#Afab reader

[valentine-cafe]

Zhao Talisen 781, the sadistic poet

[Afab reader]

Just thinking about Talisen spanking your ass all sore!! He loves the way you cry and jerk under his hold. Loves to see his hand prints forming on your ass!! Loves to wipe your tears after too!

-🍄

🍒 𓂃 𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑬𝑹 𝑼𝑷 : special order !! . . . vampire prince ⊹ afab reader .

. ᘛ 𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡​​​​​​​𝑢​​​​​​​𝑟​​​​​​​𝑖𝑛​​​​​​​𝑔﹕verse 781 ꮽ  vamp zhào talisen

 𐔌𖹭 ˖ ࣪  who's that ?⠀﹕a poetic vampire prince. eloquent and graceful, but cruel

ּ  ֗ recepit ℘ ... your prince decides to give you some sweet punishment ⊹ cw ٬٬ spanking.

"Oh, you whine far too loud, my darling." How can such a tender voice wield such a cruel hand? It's a paradox you have no time to ponder on. Not with the next sting to your poor, raw flesh.

This time his long, cold fingers relent. They slip to your slit. A sly thumb nestles between your folds and strokes from the base of your slit to your pulsating clit. A wet streak smears with the motion as he swirls the pad of his thumb over the sensitive bud.

Spill would be an understatement. No, you gush for prince. Trembled hands fist at dark pants legs. The same material you whimper into with his new objective on your leaking pussy.

"M-My prince . . ."

"There we go. Do you see? Your tears are sweet for nothing." Talisen cranes his head down. Like a winter's snake, his tongue slithers over your streaks of tears. Once more, the gentle gesture outweighs his mean fingers. So eager to milk you for your sweetness in another way. Since you wish to whine over his spanks so much.

When you squirm, he clicks his tongue. Your walls clench around the shove of fingers and, for a being so elegant, he messily pumps his digits. Curls to your sweetspot to halt your fruitless whines. Or make them worse.

"So ungrateful. Maybe I should leave you to one of my brothers instead." He clicks his tongue. "Since my fingers feel like fire." They certainly do when pistoning against your g-spot, forcing you to cream.

꒰ ۪ ˖ ࣪ 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑢 ... info ꮽ mlist ꮽ verse ꮽ wiki . 

[rain-water-flowers]

After Hours

dom!minho x sub!reader

WC: 1384

Synopsis: After finally asking out the cute bartender at the coffee shop, y/n finally gets what she wants

Warnings: unprotected sex (idk why I keep doing this), breeding kink, I must be ovulating or smth..., begging, slight overstimulation, slight fluff if you squint at the end, slight name calling, the smut isn't super detailed soooo my bad?

A/N: Writing these are so much easier than finishing my series I'm ngl, so sorry. Thanks to my beta @midnighthazee . I wanna write for Jeongin next...let me know if I miss any tags :))

Y/n blushed as she walked into the cafe for the fourth time that week. She wasn’t even the biggest fan of coffee, but she was a fan of the cute barista behind the counter. She even woke up early to be able to sit in the shop and stare at him before she had to head into work.

Minho was everything she wanted in a man – muscular, charming, eyes that she could get lost in, a smile that made her want to tackle him across the counter, and a cat lover. 

She showed up more frequently so that she could hopefully catch his attention, but it didn’t seem like she ever did. Y/n had never had the courage to actually walk up and talk to him, let alone get his number. 

Little did she know, today was going to be the day she asked him out. 

“Good morning,” Minho said warmly as y/n approached the counter, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine. “What can I get for you?” 

Y/n fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, feeling suddenly shy. “Uhh, just a coffee please,” she mumbled. “Black.” 

Minho raised an eyebrow but didn’t press her any, simply ringing up her order and handing her the steaming cup. Their fingers brushed as she took it from him and y/n felt a jolt of electricity at the contact.

“Here you go,” Minho said with an amused smile. “Let me know if you need anything else.” 

Y/n nodded, retreating to a corner table with her coffee. From here she had the perfect view to watch him work, admiring the way his muscles flexed beneath his shirt as he prepared drinks and chatten with customers. She lost herself in fantasy, imagining him pinning her against the wall, ripping her clothes off, taking her right there in front of everyone…

Lost in her thoughts, y/n didn’t realize Minho was approaching her table until he cleared his throat. She jumped and looked up at him, cheeks flushing. 

“Sorry to disturb you,” he said apologetically. “But you’ve been here for a while and I noticed you haven’t touched your coffee. Is everything alright?” 

Y/n swallowed hard, trying to find her voice. “Y-yeah, it’s fine. I was just…admiring the decor.” 

Minho looked around at the rustic wooden tables and shelves lined with mismatched mugs. “It’s nothing fancy, but I like to think it has a certain charm,” he said with a smug smile and a shrug of his shoulders. “Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you were enjoying your coffee. Let me know if you want a refill or to order something else.” 

His eyes lingered on her for a few seconds, a look in his eyes she couldn’t distinguish. He turned to leave and y/n blurted out, “Wait!”

Minho paused and looked back at her curiously, one eyebrow raised and a slight smirk on his face. Y/n took a deep breath, gathering her courage. 

“Actually, I was wondering…” She hesitated, then waited a few seconds to build her confidence more. “Would you maybe want to grab dinner sometime? With, uh, with me?” 

Minho’s eyes crinkled as he let out a smile so bright, y/n thought she’d be blinded. He took a few steps closer to her, smile persisting. “I thought you’d never ask,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for you to be brave about it. I’d love to have dinner with you.” 

Y/n beamed, feeling giddy with excitement. They exchanged numbers and planned to meet up later that week. As Minho walked away, y/n couldn’t stop smiling. She’d done it – she had actually asked him out. 

— — — — — 

Their first date was magical. Minho took y/n to a charming little Italian restaurant where they laughed and talked for hours over delicious food and wine. By the end of the night, y/n was head over heels for him. When they said goodnight outside her apartment, Minho pulled her in for a deep, passionate kiss that left her knees weak, and her panties wet. 

From that moment on, they were inseparable. They saw each other every day, going on cute dates and falling more in love with each passing moment. But beneath the sweet exterior, y/n sensed a darker, more dominant side to Minho. And she couldn't wait to uncover it.

— — — — — —

“Beg me to fuck you.” Minho growled, tone demanding and leaving no room for disobeying. 

Y/n remembers when their relationship moved from sweet kisses and cuddles to hot, steamy sex. Minho was an incredible lover, aggressive and demanding but also unbelievably tender and caring. He would pin y/n down and ravage her with his mouth, hands, and cock until she was sobbing with pleasure, then cradle her in his arms afterwards and whisper how much he loved her.  

Tonight, Minho had buried his face between y/n’s thighs and brought her to a screaming orgasm, yanking her legs over his shoulders and plunging his tongue deep inside her spasming pussy. Y/n wailed and clutched his hair as he fucked her with his mouth, driving her wild. 

When she finally came down from her high, Minho was kneeling between her legs, looking strong and commanding – his cock rock hard and leaking. 

Which led her to this current moment. 

Y/n was snapped out of her memories upon feeling a light smack to her face. “I said beg me to fuck you, baby. Don’t make me ask you again.” He said, tone stern and eyes piercing through her.

"Please!" y/n cried, tears streaming down her face from the intensity of her orgasm, not ready for another one so soon. "Please fuck me..breed me, fill me up, please. I need your cum!" 

Minho groaned and pushed into her, stretching her slick walls around his thick cock. He pumped into her hard and fast, slamming against her cervix with every thrust.

"You're mine," he snarled, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise. "My perfect good girl, baby. I'm going to fill this tight cunt with my cum and watch you grow round with my babies."

Y/n cried out and wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. "Yes! Yours! Fuck me harder, please give me your baby!"

Minho pistoned into her ruthlessly, his heavy balls slapping against her ass. "Take it," he grunted. "Fucking take it all like a good little slut."

"Come for me," Minho ordered, adding his thumb to rub tight circles on her clit. "Show me how much you love being used."

With a wail, y/n obeyed, spasming around his cock as her climax crashed over her. Minho continued to fuck her through it, drawing out every last second of bliss.

But before she could come down, he began slamming into her oversensitive pussy with multiple hard thrusts.

"Ah-ahh! Too much!" y/n shrieked, trying to squirm away from the intense stimulation. But Minho grabbed her hips, pinning her in place as he began to pound into her.

"You'll take it," he growled, hips snapping brutally. "You'll take every inch until I've fucked another load into this greedy cunt."

Y/n could only sob brokenly as Minho used her ruthlessly, his heavy balls slapping against her ass with every thrust. She felt like she was being split open, her pussy stretched around his enormous cock.

"Scream for me," Minho demanded, reaching down to circle her clit. "Let everyone know who this cunt belongs to."

Y/n wailed his name loudly as her orgasm hit her again, vision whiting out from the sheer force of it. She felt Minho swell inside her and with a loud groan, he came, pumping what felt like too much of his cum deep into her womb.

Afterwards, they lay tangled together in sweat-soaked sheets, hearts pounding and bodies trembling with aftershocks. Minho stroked y/n’s hair and pressed soft kisses to her face.

"I love you," he murmured tenderly. "I want to marry you and have lots of babies with you." 

Y/n giggled breathlessly and cuddled into his chest. "I love you too. I want that too."

They fell asleep in each other's arms, planning to go get tea in the morning at a new coffee shop that opened around the corner.

[chososrightnipple]

❝𝗷𝗷𝗸 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 + 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀❞

a/n: i'm going insane guys anyway love u all mwah <333333 afab body but no gendered language btw!

part two.

── დ ──

. *. ⋆ GOJO SATORU

▸ creampies. please just let this man cum inside of you omg he'll go insane. seeing the way his release leaks out of you afterward has him ready for another round almost immediately.

▸ dacryphilia. "you crying'?" says it all right there. he'll coo, a bit mocking, and wipe at the tears running down your cheeks.

▸ size difference. he's so big compared to you. his height, his hands, his dick. he gets off on it so hard seeing you have to look up at him :(

▸ praise (giving + receiving). he'll charm your panties off if you really want, just make sure to let him know how good he's fucking you, too.

▸ overstimulation. hand in hand with dacryphilia. he's not done with you until he's shooting blanks and you're a weeping mess below him.

▸ breeding. listen.. he needs an heir for the gojo clan. he'll fuck you into the mattress for hours on end- he just wants to make sure his baby takes, that's all.

▸ orgasm denial. he's a cocky man, and he knows it. he loves the exhilaration he gets controlling your orgasm, making you beg for it before he gives you any satisfaction.

▸ pussy/thigh/boob jobs. he wants to put good use to all of your body.

. *. ⋆ GETO SUGURU

▸ choking. the feeling of you swallowing as his large hands cusp at your neck is like a drug to him.

▸ begging. seeing you so compliant under him as you plead and cry for his touch... those pretty little eyes and wobbling lip. it's mean, he knows that. he just couldn't care less.

▸ sense deprivation. tying you up and blindfolding you, giving him all that power? he goes crazy for it.

▸ degradation. you wanna be fucked like a slut, he's gonna treat you like one.

▸ edging. when he's feeling really mean, he'll edge you for hours. until you're shaking and whining and the only word you can get out is a broken moan of his name.

▸ impact play. he loves waking up and seeing the red imprint of his hand on your ass oh my godddd don't get him started.

▸ hair pulling (receiving). he wants you to tug at his hair, card your fingers through it, pull it as you're riding his face!!!

▸ sadism. pretty much hand in hand with everything above. he's such a mean boyfriend but he knows how much you love it.

. *. ⋆ CHOSO KAMO

▸ biting. your shoulders, neck, and thighs are full of his teeth marks, almost perpetually. and of course he's not gonna complain if you leave a few bites, too.

▸ begging. show him how much you want him, how badly you need him, and he'll fuck you as much as you want. you just gotta put in a little work first.

▸ worship (giving + receiving). seriously this man worships the ground you walk on from the moment you wake up to the second you fall asleep. he just asks you worship his cock the same

▸ overstimulation. he's fuckin you until his legs are giving out from under him and you're nothing but a fucked out, drooling mess being pressed into the bed.

▸ blood play. i mean... i think this is a given.. will purposefully bite down too hard just to lick the blood clean as an apology.

▸ orgasm denial. he knows once you cum, it's over, and he just wants to stay sat in your pretty pussy a little bit longer- you understand that, right?

▸ somnophilia. his favorite breakfast is in between your thighs. besides, you don't think there's any better way to wake up, anyway.

▸ voyeurism. pleaseeee pleaseee pleaseee let him watch you masturbate it's all he needs in this world !!!!!

. *. ⋆ SUKUNA RYOMEN

▸ anal. he needs to claim every hole your body has to offer. plus true form sukuna is a slut for his double penetration just saying

▸ choking. hearing your choked gasps as he squeezes your throat could make him cum on the damn spot. watching your eyes roll into the back of your head as each second passes on.

▸ exhibitionism. no, he doesn't care that there are other curses around and no, he doesn't care if they can see. you're his, and he'll fuck you anywhere he wants to.

▸ extreme bondage. watching your poor, writhing little human body tug at your restraints uselessly is something he'll never get tired of.

▸ collaring. he'll even get his name custom engraved, just so everyone who looks at you know exactly who you belong to.

▸ degradation. he's a mean thing, but you seem to enjoy that for some reason. he savors in the way you clench around him every time he calls you a whore.

▸ edging. you're not allowed to cum until he's says so, and anything before that? you're in for one hell of a night.

▸ predator/prey. let him chase you through the woods as foreplay. he'll inevitably catch up, of course, but seeing you attempt to get away is so cute to him. especially when he's had enough of the teasing and is pinning you against the nearest tree.

[ewusernamessuck-offical]

STEVENN😍

— – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – -

Call me something

Fic type -> NSFW + Drabble

Warnings -> Degrading kink, sub Steven, just jerking Steven off 🤷‍♀️, cum eating too

Word count -> 972, three or four book pages

Please check out my other drabbles either on here or on my AO3, the link is at the end <3

~Masterlist~ / Drabble I made alongside this one

— – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – -

“Shit Steven…”

You feel his boner through his jeans as you half-straddle one of his legs on his bed, your knee pressing up against it.

“Ah, um, sorry love…”

He looks down, or to the side, wherever you’re not which isn’t anywhere really since you’re so close to his face.

“No no no no no, it’s cute how you’re all hot and bothered for me already.”

You say with a playful smirk as you place one of your hands on his waist and the other under his chin to lift his flushing face up to meet yours. He can’t seem to help but give you those doe eyes as he finally looks at you.

“I love how fucking sensitive you are, any little touch I give you drives you up the wall.”

Steven’s lips part as if to say something, a small exhale is let out onto your skin instead. He furrows his eyebrows as he presses his lips shut and tries to look away once more.

A spark of worry is sent through you from his reaction.

“Shit ‘m sorry Steven, I didn’t mean it like that…”

A beat of silence passes through, Steven finally says something beating you to it.

“No I… you… I-I’d like it if you meant it like that…”

You bite the inside of your lip as less-than-appropriate situations flood your mind, you lean in so your lips are nearly touching. He looks back at you with those same doe eyes.

“How far can I go?”

You trail the hand on his waist down to his hips.

“U-um, just whatever- whatever comes to mind…”

You crash your lips together in an instant, finding a rhythm quickly. Steven moans into the kiss as your hand moves to grip his hardening cock through his jeans, pressing your palm into it making his arms fly up to hug you closer.

You pull away and start kissing down his neck, sucking hickeys all down the length of it.

“Y/n-“

He involuntarily jerks his hips up into your hand, applying more of that sweet pressure he craves.

“So desperate. You’ve no patience.”

You mutter against his skin. Steven squeezes his eyes shut as a moan catches in his throat, feeling your hot mouth against it still.

A smirk forms on your lips as you realise the sheer effect your words are having on him.

You hastily unbuckle his belt and undo his jeans to reach down into his boxers.

“I c-can feel you grinning, you-you smug bastard.”

“I wasn’t tryna hide it”

His dick in hand you start to slowly stroke him, teasing the tip with your thumb.

“Oh-“

Steven lets his head fall forward into the crook of your neck, his hands sliding up your back under your shirt holding you close to him.

“You’re clingy too…”

You feel him sigh into your neck, then his breathing gradually getting faster and heavier as you speed up your hand.

“Don’t you- don’t you want me to do something?”

“No, I like seeing you like this. God I’m only jerking you off and you’re holding onto me for dear life.”

He groans and gasps slightly as you tease around his slit, massaging that sweet spot just below the head.

“C-call me something-“

“What?”

A moan interrupts his line of thinking.

“Just- just…”

“You have to know how pathetic you’re being Steven, getting off on me calling you things.”

It may just be something off the top of your head but his thighs flex nonetheless, almost closing in around your hand. He lets out a shaky breath against your shoulder.

“‘m close…”

“Of course you are, fucking slut. It barely takes anything for you to cum.”

“God-“

His grip on your back tightens as he arches his back into you, there’s sure to be marks left behind. Spurts of cum litter his abdomen and your hand.

Steven lets his head fall back on the pillow as he catches his breath, little moans weaving their way out as he comes down from his high.

All you feel you can do is look at how worn out he already is.

“You really enjoyed that didn’t you?”

“Well yea, I… I guess so.”

You chuckle quietly as you move to lay down next to him.

“I still have your cum all over my hand.”

He furrows his eyebrows.

“What d’you want me to do about that?”

He turns his head to look at you, not expecting the lusty stare he’s met with.

“You know you wanna.”

You smile as he looks at your hand held in front of him, then back to you. He purses his lips and can’t help but look back at your hand once more.

“Come on, I can practically hear you thinking it.”

You swing a leg over his waist and hold your fingers to his lips. He opens his mouth and starts to lick his cum off of your hand.

“That’s it, clean up your mess.”

He looks up at you as he licks a fat stripe up your wrist to the tips of your fingers, then going back and gathering the rest of it up. You can feel his breath against your hand, and how he clings onto your forearm so tightly preventing it from moving anywhere.

You reach down to him with your other hand and thread your fingers through his unkempt hair.

“Don’t waste any of it Steven…”

You narrow your eyes, he groans against your hand and both of you furrow your eyebrows.

He finally gets all of it off your hand, sucking a bit on the ends of your fingers just to tease.

“There…”

Barely a murmur out of him and he lets your arm go, awkwardly placing them at his sides not being entirely sure what to do with them.

You tighten your grip on his soft curls making him tense up beneath you.

“My turn.”

— – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – -

My AO3

[taintandviolent]

Rough ; Roman Godfrey x secretary!reader

summary: PART THREE TO LITTLE MOUTH! [PART ONE HERE] & [PART TWO HERE]! Roman's vague and horrible as always, but at least his instructions were clear; wear a dress. It's the night of the investor banquet for Godfrey Institute, and you're feeling out of place. You're on your period, so everything is getting under your skin. Unfortunately for you, Roman has a very specific appetite tonight.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 2.6K | female reader, smut, unprotected sex, kissing, choking, rough sex, manhandling, period sex, cunnilingus, blood consumption, bloodplay, blood drinking, mentions of tampons, mentions of alcohol, neck kissing.

a/n: AHEM. I've been asked for a part three to this for a looooooong time, so here we go. not beta-read, so any mistakes are... y'know. just ignore them. banner by @/strangergraphics!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / playlist here / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

Roman was a bizarre boss. Not just that, he was a manipulative, degrading asshole. So, why were you so interested in him? You’d fucked him twice and suddenly he had you under his thumb like some desperate floozy. Sickening to your intrinsic feminism.

You hurriedly sweep the brush over your lid, blending out the powder you’d just put there. The motivation behind Roman’s vague instructions might’ve been unknown, but at least he’d texted you early that morning, reminding you that it was the night of the investor visit and banquet. You’d been reminding him about it for weeks, and suddenly you were the one who had forgotten. You chalked it up to the fact that you hadn’t planned on going, because really, who brings their secretary to a weekend event? 

Leaning away from the mirror, you take a moment to survey yourself. You’d chosen a slinky white dress that hugged your curves as though it had been tailored to you. It hadn’t – you had impulse bought it online a few months back. Your hair fell in delicate waves around your shoulders. You swat away your nagging insecurities, knowing that your mind was playing tricks on you – you looked fine, and it didn’t matter, because Roman was going to be there any minute. 

He doesn’t even bother to knock – just texts you that he’s outside. You grab your purse, and rush down the stairs and out the door. It’s raining when you open your front door. 

There he is. Even from here, even with the rain spattered windshield, you can see his plump lips, eternally pouting. You can see the harsh angle of his jawline, and his piercing green eyes as they watch you, impatiently. Your purse hangs from the crook of your arm, swaying gently as you stride over to the passenger side, your heels clacking against the wet pavement. With a sigh, as though you’re prepping yourself, you open the door.

“Hi,” you say, settling in. You shift in your seat, reaching for the belt.  

He simply nods at you, and puts the car in reverse.  Great. There’s something so wretched about the way he fucks you one day, and treats like you nothing the next. You hate it. Anger roils in your stomach like an angry serpent trying to devour itself, and you ease back into the seat, crossing your arms over your chest. You know you’re sensitive right now, but it’s really doing wonders for your self-esteem that he is the way he is. 

The ride there is a quiet one (unsurprisingly), and Roman hardly says a word, though you catch him as he keeps stealing glances.

“You look good,” he says abruptly when you’re only a minute or two away. 

You turn your head, your eyes climbing from his hands on the wheel to his stoic face. “Thanks.” 

Once you arrive, the Institute is filled with suits and ties. You recognize a few faces, but not enough to make you comfortable. You aren’t sure what your purpose is here, and without your folders and notepad, you feel naked around these people. Not to mention, you’re dressed in a way that will inevitably give them a different opinion of you, because they never see you like this. 

Roman immediately is overtaken by people who want his attention, want his approval, and you’re almost thankful for the reprieve of his hot and cold attitude.

“I’ll take one of those,” you say politely, though determinately. Your fingers wrap around the delicate flute as the waiter breezes by, and you bring the effervescent liquid to your lips. God bless alcohol. Truly. 

You feel a particular and sudden gush between your legs and your eyes widen, pupils swallowing your iris. Shit. Had you really bled through your tampon already? 

Turning on your heel, you make a beeline for the bathrooms, which are from where you are, is a decent walk. You take each step carefully, praying and hoping that crimson hasn’t saturated your beautiful silk gown.

You make it to the bathroom and shove the door open hard. There’s no one inside, thank god, because you’re about to unleash a string of expletives if you’ve bled through your dress. After locking it behind you, you take a deep breath and step in front of the mirror, before turning around slowly. 

The dress remains pristine. You’ve caught it in time. 

You set the champagne flute on the counter top. Throwing yourself towards the toilet, you hike your dress up around your hips and sit down. You reach into your small purse, thankful that you brought an extra one, even though you hadn’t planned on using it so soon. Just as your fingers inch between your legs, you hear someone knock on the door. 

You wait. 

The knock doesn’t repeat, and your fingers twitch back to life, blindly searching for the string.

A few seconds later, his muffled voice comes from outside. 

Did he just tell you to open the door? 

“Just a second!” You shout. You can hear Roman’s impatience through the wood, but for God’s sake, you’re changing your tampon. 

“Open the fucking door! What, you think you can hide in there?” 

Now feeling rushed, you wrap the used tampon in tissue. Frustrated, you get to your feet, pull your underwear up around your hips and hurry to the door, opening it just a crack. You toss the tissue into the trash and peek through the slit. Roman stands there, in his stupidly attractive suit, with his pink, pouted lips and intense gaze, like he was trying to burn a hole through the door. 

“What are you doing?” 

You hesitate, drowning in the awkwardness of the situation. “....I’m dealing with something, if you don’t fucking mind.” 

“I do, actually.” His chest fills with air as he takes a deep breath. His nostrils flare and his eyes widen, looking animalistic. “I need you.” You furrow your brow as you watch him – what was he doing? The term need could refer to a multitude of things from him – you weren’t sure which it was. All of the options were terrifying, considering you were now free-bleeding into your panties.

A few seconds pass, and you get your answer. His fingers splay out on the wood as he pushes the bathroom door open, forcing you to take a few steps back. It happens quickly, but he crouches in front of you, just enough to hoist you up over his shoulder. Your feet leave the floor, and you can do little but flail in his grip, trying to reach for the door jam as he turns, striding out of the bathroom. 

“Roman! Roman, stop–!” 

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up. Be grateful that I didn’t wait for you to come back and make you suck my dick in front of everyone.” 

I kind of wish you would have. Your core twinges with heat at the idea of ruining your reputation in such a way. 

He carries you, your vision bouncing with his steps, until he comes to the large glass doors of the main conference room. He pushes his way through them, and takes long, determinate strides until he gets to the wooden table in the middle of the room. 

Your back meets the wood before you can protest again. 

His hand comes to your neck, gripping it softly. You whimper, stretching your neck away from his grasp, to which he hums, satisfied. You suck in a deep breath as his hand trails down further, along your decollete. 

“I can feel your heartbeat.” His palm ghosts over your chest, fingertips grazing the exposed skin between the fabric. “You’re nervous.” 

“Yeah, because I don’t know what you’re doing.”

Roman says nothing, only continues touching your body, trailing his hands along the slinky fabric of your gown. You look around the conference room passively. It’s a room that you’ve been outside of many times, holding the door for Mr. Godfrey while passing him a file folder of bullet points to talk about and things to address. You never join him in the room, so you’re never sure if he actually does go over them. You assume not.  

“You’re bleeding, aren’t you?” The question is asked as he’s gathering your dress up around your hips. You lift your hips up, and he pushes the fabric underneath your ass, into the small of your back. Thoughtful. Surprisingly. 

“I can smell it,” he adds.

You swallow, uncomfortable. “Y-yeah. I am. And you interrupted me from fixing that. So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to put a tampon back in and go back downstairs.” 

“Hm…” Roman says, one hand on either knee, spreading your legs apart. “Why the fuck would I let you do something stupid like that?” 

You saw Roman guzzle blood straight out of a bag. That, somehow, didn’t come as a shock to you. What does come as a shock, is that he’s kneeling between your legs, his hot mouth nearing your even hotter center. He runs a single finger along your panties before hooking them around his index finger and yanking them down over your hips. 

“Ro– Roman… what… what are you doing? What if someone sees us? Are you insane?” 

He straightens up and his gaze bores into yours, iron-locked and deep.

“Shut up!” His hand snakes up between your legs and grips your jaw tightly, your expression tightening up into a wince. “Stop talking for once. Stop asking me stupid fucking questions.” 

That haze returns and you happily don’t say another word. The first time he did it to you, it frightened you, made you feel like you were losing grasp on reality. At this point though, you’re almost comfortable with that feeling. You’ve come to crave the feeling of relinquishing control, the way your limbs buzz with compulsion, the way your mind goes blank for a fleeting moment before you enact whatever he told you to do. It’s much easier than thinking.

A single drop of blood descends from his nostril, and he reaches back to wipe it away. 

His flattened tongue presses against your cunt and your eyes roll back in your head, lids fluttering desperately. It feels so good. So fucking good. You’d heard that sex on your period was incredible, because you were extra sensitive, but no one ever warned you about being eaten out on your period. Where did you even start with this? 

The fucking smell that fills his nostrils has his muscles tensing with hunger. You notice the change in him; the darkening of his eyes, the way he seems to loom between your legs and the way the muscles in his jaw flutter as he clenches it. Flattening a hand on your hips to keep you in place, to keep you from moving too much, he growls deeply against your folds before opening his mouth further on her, his tongue lapping at your clit. 

To you, it’s something to be discarded, something annoying. To him, it’s a sweet, heady nectar to be devoured and appreciated. Your head lolls back, heavy, and thuds against the wood as a shaky repetition of oh my god and fuck tumbles from your open mouth. Roman goes at your cunt, hungry. You can hear him sucking and slupring at your fluids and you spread your legs farther open, exposing everything to him. His large hands stroke up and down your thighs, kneading the flesh in some places, and you whine, arching your back. You’re a slave to his touch, even if deep down, you resent that. 

After a particularly loud gulp against your cunt, he inserts a single, long digit and curls it upwards to the spongy flesh within you. You cry out, feeling weak and heading straight to your first earth-shattering orgasm of the evening. He pulls his mouth away just before you come, and when he does, you lift your head. His lips and chin are covered in a glistening sheen of crimson. You experience a violent whiplash of arousal and disgust at the sight, unsure of which one you should pluck out and hold onto tight to. He pulls his finger out of you, and brings it up to his mouth. Making ferocious eye contact, he brings it to his mouth and swipes his tongue along it before dragging his palm upwards on his chin, bringing the rest of the blood and cum up into his waiting, hungry mouth. You find yourself clenching your teeth, watching him silently as he undoes his belt. 

Still, you say nothing. 

“Such a good little secretary.” He hums before hinging at the waist, bending over top of you. His hands are splayed out on either side of your head, locking you into his atmosphere. You’re shivering helpless, charmed. There’s nothing else to do besides dissolve into his gaze. “So good for me, keeping your little mouth shut and not asking questions.” 

His green eyes drop to your lips and he leans in. Filled with immeasurable disgust, you wrench your head away from his grip and scowl, unable to withhold the next words that claw their way out. “Don’t. Don’t kiss me. Please.” 

Roman breathes out a laugh and reaches in between your bodies to line his aching cock up with your entrance. “Fine,” he says. Your stomach ties itself in knots at the thought that follows. Was he trying to be tender? To be romantic? And was it so easy for him not to be? Most guys would feel offended, dejected. But Roman was seemingly happy to not have to bother with the frivolous foreplay of kissing. 

No warning. No preparation aside from the few seconds that his hot cockhead nudges your slit, finding its way. He bottoms out in one thrust, pressing his hips tight against yours. Your jaw drops at the feeling; muscles clench and relax and the added lubrication of your blood has him reaching a depth that makes your toes curl within your high heels. 

He jerks his hips hard once, the fat, leaking head hitting your cervix. Then, he pulls his blood soaked cock from you slowly… so slowly. It’s almost tender, like he’s trying not to hurt you – but you know hurt is the last thing on his mind. 

“I’m gonna’ fuck you now.”

“Yeah, Mr. Godfrey. I know you are.” 

His cock buries itself inside you again, twitching as he finds a bullying, cruel rhythm. He fucks every inch of you, watching you as he does. Above you, he’s grunting, his plump lips open, jaw hanging slack. His perfect hair is now shaggy, strands hanging in front of his face. His expression is blissed out, and you know that the blood feels just as good to him as it does to you, if not better. 

Your orgasm washes over you, waves of pleasure drowning you and leaving you gasping for breath. 

“You like that? Huh?”

You nod and reach your hand up to make a fist in his hair. Roman immediately responds by gripping both your hands and yanking them harshly above your head in an act of dominance. He presses them against the cool wood, using the position as leverage for his deep, harsh thrusts.

His cock doesn’t stop, fucking into you hard and fast, and it isn’t long before he tenses up above you. His breath rushes out through clenched teeth, and his grip tightens on your hands. 

“FUCK!” 

He pumps himself into you, rutting his hips hard against your center. Every last drop mixes with your own fluids, and Roman makes sure that none of it seeps out until he’s ready. He looms over you, chest heaving and green eyes scanning over your fucked out features. 

Eventually, he withdraws his cock with a slick, wet sound.  Back to the cold, cruel exterior. You roll your eyes.

“Clean yourself up. You’re a mess.” 

He tucks himself back into his slacks, hiding the bloody evidence within the fabric.

“And when you’re done, come find me. I have a few things you need to do.” 

You want to bite back, snark at him with something defiant. Write your own notes. Schedule your own shit. 

“Yes, sir.” 

[sunnypopoki]

YANDERE STORY REC ⬇︎

Do you like yandere stories? Well I got the story for you! Check out DEAD & DONE. It’s a new YANDERE REVERSE HAREM X FEMALE READER that can be found on Wattpad and Quotev. It’s going to be updated weekly on every Friday or Saturday. If you enjoy hitmen, forbidden love, gangs, and organized crime—you’ll love this story.

SYNOPSIS: Beaten and broken, the man choked out two words that would change Y/N's world forever. Red Lions. Those two words were the explosion that set off her spur of bad luck. Because who would have thought that her victim would also be the heir of the Red Lion Gang; an organization of crime, drugs, and murder. Now with her life on the line, she knew what she had to do next... survive whatever onslaught of terror they drag into her life. It's either be killed or kill them.

TAGS: reverse harem x reader, yanderes x reader, yandere x reader, gangs, organized crime, morally grey MC, female MC, horror, thriller, foul language, sexual content, violence and gore, murder, yanderes, male yanderes, etc.

[fujoshirat]

I am absolutely INLOVE with how you write Shouto! It suits him so well that he has a big family 😭🤧

There is something I am curious about. How do you think would he be as a new dad? Especially when he found out he was having twins for the first time.. could you write a fic/scenario about this? and would he gain more confidence with his dad skills as time goes by? Thanks for reading this req 😇🫶

Aww! I’m so glad that you enjoy my writing and headcanons!! Tysm as well for asking, if you couldn’t tell, I LOVE writing about domestic Shouto </3

Also sorry that I couldn't respond immediately! I wanted to make sure that I answered all that you asked in the request ><

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’m pregnant.”

The moment you uttered those two words, Shouto’s jaw dropped. It closed a few seconds later, then opened, then closed. If not for the tense, life-changing situation, you would have laughed.

But this was not a joke.

After almost 5 minutes without a response from your husband, you sigh and turn around, ready to retreat to bed to cry. However, as you turn around, a strong arm grabs your waist and pulls you to him. The young hero buries his face in your lower back, breath shaky.

“Shou?” Your voice came out quieter than you wanted, but you were nervous too. Before you could continue, he began to speak.

“Y-You’re pregnant?”

Swallowing hard, you nod and turn to face him. Your hands gingerly cup his face, feeling the smoothness of his cheeks. “Yes, Shou,” you say breathily. “I’m pregnant.”

And with that affirmation, Shouto nodded wordlessly, stood up, and hugged you. Through the silence, you could feel your shoulder getting damp, and that was all you needed to feel to know how he felt.

I’m scared, but I’m here for you and our child.

A very Shouto Himura Todoroki response, perhaps too nonchalant or emotionless for other women, but this was your man, your husband, your love.

The second time Shouto had a very Shouto response was a week later. Laying on the flimsy parchment paper of the private room of the clinic, you anxiously squeezed your husband’s hand. The doctor was so gentle and sweet, a smile on her face as she did the ultrasound.

“Ah, there we go! Now, as you can see, Todoroki-san, there is a little head right here and-oh! I see another one~!” The young doctor turns to Shouto and smiles. “Congratulations, Todoroki-san, your wife is having twins!”

Right as those words tumbled out of the doctor’s mouth, your husband’s eyes widened and his fingers almost slipped through your grasp. You gasped, clutching his hand, earning a worried look from the doctor. “T-Todoroki-san!?!”

Ah yes, your husband, the one that will NOT be giving birth, almost fainted after hearing the fact that you were carrying twins—no, his twins.

Twins? Twins!?! He hasn’t even had experience with one kid yet, and now she’s telling him that there's two?!?

Another very Shouto Himura Todoroki response, a little worrying but hey, your man is okay and here to support you, no matter what.

It has been almost 4 weeks since you left the hospital, and Shouto feels like this is the hardest exam yet.

Your husband being on paternity leave is a huge help, but sometimes it feels like even your husband needs babysitting.

Right now is one such moment.

It was peacful a few minutes ago, you swore. You put the twins down on his lap before going to the bathroom, so why was there suddenly a ringing, crying noise from downstairs? You groan internally, exhausted and clearly needing an extra 12 hours of sleep, and you descend down the stairs. “Shouto? Is everything alright?” Following the sound of the wailing, you enter the living room and see him awkwardly trying to soothe the crying infants.

“What happened?!” You have to half-shout just to make him hear you.

“I-I don’t know, angel! I tried feeding Aki the bottle and-!” Oh bless this man’s kind heart, but he did not know ANYTHING about carrying for babies. Sighing, you take both Aki and Haru in your arms and shush them by putting their pacifiers back in their mouths. Like magic, their harmonious crying stopped, replaced by the sound of soft sucking. You chuckle at the twins before looking up at your husband, a shy, disappointed look on his face.

“Sit down, Shouto.”

He nods and sits down, watching you sit down next to him. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, love—I don’t even know what I’m doing!” You sigh and smile softly.

“Hey, it’s alright. We’re new to this and we’re still figuring this out.”

“I know… but I feel like I’m doing everything wrong. You’re so good at this, and I’m not.”

You frown at his words and reach out to hold his hand.

“Hey, don’t say that. You’re doing amazing and the damn-best job ever for a first-time father! And I’m flattered that you think I’m so good at this, but even I mess up too!” The way that your husband sulks is too cute, and a soft laugh escapes your lips.

“As we continue navigating parenthood, we’ll get even better, okay? But don’t beat yourself up about this baby. You’re doing your best, and that is all I can ask for.”

Shouto nods slowly, still unsure about everything, but he understands where you are coming from. He can’t be perfect the first time, but he’ll continue doing his damn best for his family.

And pro hero Shouto Todoroki never does a half-assed job.

Parenthood and the 9 months of your pregnancies are a rollercoaster, but it is Shouto’s favorite job.

He’s definitely gotten more comfortable with the twins and definitely knows better about babies. There are so many ups and downs to being a pro-hero parent, but he’s ready to accept every day with an open heart. He still uses what he learned at U.A. and his hero skills: spidey-senses activating when he sees Yueru bravely climb out of her crib and almost landing on the rug if it weren’t for his reflexes, knowing how much baby formula to make per bottle when you’re taking a nap and the twins are hungry, patiently teaching Haru how to do his hiragana characters when all he wants to do is color the animals on the edges of the worksheet.

One could say that your husband is a professional father already, and you couldn’t agree more. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

urgh I'm dying from cuteness overload (๑ > ᴗ < ๑) I hope this answered your request, anon! TYSM once again for your love and support ❤︎❤︎

[yanderestarangel]

♡˚₊‧⁺˖ headcanons arcane — sevika x reader

— tw: soft!dom sevika, fluff, wife sevika, soft sex, praise kink, biting kink, hexstrap, fingering, dirty talk, marriage, mommykink, oral fixation, afab reader, eat out, dp, vibrators, breedkink, smut, anal, sub!reader, no pronouns used.

♡⁠┊Sevika is a caring companion, and even though her behavior is different when she is Silco's henchwoman, she has a soft spot for you and the life you two have built together. It wasn’t easy for her to accept her feelings for you. In the beginning, you two were just friends with benefits, and Sevika only enjoyed the sex you had. She would get bored and think. "At least I don't have to pay for someone else at the brothel." She knew it was a horrible thought and was ashamed of having such a selfish mentality. This would be a secret she would keep forever and take to the grave—she would never hurt you by admitting what she thought before developing feelings.

♡⁠┊ As time went on, she gave in to the feelings that persistently warmed her heart and soul. Your smile was the first thing to make her blush—and she hadn’t even thought that was possible. She had always been so controlled and objective that it genuinely shocked her to feel the overwhelming need to have you by her side 24/7. Soon, the word "passion" echoed through her mind like a haunting melody. She found you more addictive than the nicotine that coursed through the cigarettes she smoked.

♡⁠┊Before long, what started as "friends with benefits" naturally evolved into "lovers."

♡⁠┊There was a Sevika before you and a Sevika after you. She had never been the kind of woman who worried about getting home or keeping track of dates. Her life revolved around late nights in the casino’s accounting department, playing poker, grabbing meals from nearby vendors, and caring little about commitments that didn’t involve Silco.

♡⁠┊But after you came into her life, she started making an effort to be an acceptable girlfriend. At first, the change in routine felt strange to her. The loud music she once thrived on was replaced by soft conversations with you about each other's day, accompanied by chaste smiles. She even found herself helping you in the kitchen—passing ingredients and stealing glances at you, looking so adorably domestic to her. Adorable as hell, she’d think, trying to hide the silly smile that crept onto her lips as you continued chatting about your day while she was at work.

♡⁠┊Everyone noticed how much the "big mama" had changed. She was still the tough, no-nonsense woman everyone knew, but there was a new spark to her—a contentment, as if she were finally 100% happy with herself. She began taking better care of herself, and though she wouldn’t admit it outright, she loved when you noticed the little changes she made. A new hairstyle, a fresh haircut, a different lipstick or gloss, or even a change in the eyeshadow she wore—your compliments made her day. "Do you like it? Thank you... I decided to look prettier for you, baby." she’d say with a soft smile, handing you a bouquet of your favorite roses before pulling you into a tight hug. She’d carry you inside, ready to spend hours talking with you, only for the evening to melt into passionate kisses on the couch.

♡⁠┊Sevika expresses her love through acts of service and heartfelt compliments. She’ll do anything to make you comfortable. Though she never imagined sharing her home with anyone, she started taking better care of the space for your sake. When you can’t handle the household chores, she steps in without hesitation—bringing you breakfast in bed and lingering for a moment to make sure you’re okay—"Let me know if you need anything; I’ll come running." she says protective, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead and giving you one last look before leaving the house. Her presence is felt throughout the streets in her actions and reputation, but no matter where she goes, her mind always drifts back to you.

♡⁠┊The marriage proposal came naturally to Sevika. You two had been living together for a while, and she knew without a doubt that you were her great love. At forty, she had no patience for games anymore—it was all or nothing. You were lying in bed when the moment came. "We've been together for a while, right? How about we make things official? Me, you, a nice wedding..." she began, her words a little hesitant as she reached into the drawer with her mechanical arm, pulling out a beautiful red velvet box. She opened it quickly, revealing two rose gold rings. She had carefully chosen a design that suited both of you, seeking help to find the perfect pair. In the end, the cost didn���t matter—it was worth every penny. "You know I love you more than anything. Will you marry me, angel face?" Sevika finally asked, her voice filled with sincerity as she held the ring engraved with her name and gently slipped it onto your finger. It was a simple proposal, shared in the intimacy of your bedroom on an ordinary weekday. Yet, for Sevika, it became an extraordinary moment—a day that would forever hold a sweet place in her heart, the day you said yes and accepted her as your wife.

♡⁠┊Your wedding was simple, just as Sevika had suggested. Money was tight, so she proposed a civil ceremony at the registry office, followed by a quiet picnic in the park where you could spend the day together. She wore a black suit, sharp yet understated, and happily let you make flower crowns for both of you to wear. Lying with her head resting on your thighs, she spoke softly about your future plans, weaving dreams of the life you’d build together. She promised that once your financial situation improved, she’d throw you a grand ceremony—regardless of whether you told her it wasn’t necessary.

♡⁠┊ "Don’t talk nonsense, sweetie. Just wait until I have some good money, okay? Mama's here will give you everything you deserve. Those weddings for rich people are really expensive." she’d say with determination, her voice firm yet tender. As you played with her hair, she smoked leisurely, her gaze alternating between the sky and you. "Just wait for the money to come in, okay? I promise things will get better for us, one day..." she murmured, exhaling smoke through her nose. Sevika didn’t know exactly when things would change for the better, but she held tightly to hope and faith. Until then, she gave you all the love and support she had, pure and unwavering. For her, it wasn’t about the money—it was about showing you, in every way she could, just how much you meant to her.

♡⁠┊And this romanticism transforms into touches of heat on your honeymoon. Sevika adores you as if you were a deity, laying you down on the bed and kissing every inch of your skin. She gently removes the clothes you wore at the wedding, whispering sweet words that send shivers through both of you: "I've waited so long for this, honey... I love you so much it hurts." She kisses your belly, trailing down to your intimacy, leaving soft kisses over your still-clothed pussy. Pushing aside the already damp fabric, she presses her nose against your clit.

♡⁠┊"I will always adore you. You are my world, my most precious thing in this life..." Her green eyes shine as they meet yours, and she carefully removes your panties, returning to kiss the inside of your thighs. Finally, her full lips meet your cunt, a hoarse grunt escaping her as she closes her eyes, savoring your taste. It doesn’t take long for her to lose herself in you, a comfortable heat blooming within her as you pull her hair and rub your hips against her face. Both of her hands hold you firmly in place while the older woman pushes her tongue into your hole, fucking you slowly and savoring every moment of your essence.

♡⁠┊She would slide two fingers inside you, making you feel every inch as they filled and caressed your spongy walls, drawing you tighter around her touch. "Do you want a third finger, darling? Are you that needy, huh? You're making me so proud... Taking me so well." she whispers with a teasing grin. When she adds a third finger, the sensation is overwhelming—you've never felt so full in your entire life. Her tongue lavishes attention on every inch of your bundle of nerves, her lips and tongue working in harmony to send waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your wife becomes utterly pussy drunk, grunting in excitement as she urges you to give her more of your juices, moaning for you like it’s her greatest pleasure. She doesn’t stop until she makes you squirt, her relentless mouth and fingers ensuring her face is soaked. "Fuck... Holy hell, my angel. You should see your face right now, you know?" she murmurs with satisfaction, wiping some of your wetness from her face with the back of her hand. Her fingers drip with your essence, the sight so erotic it leaves her wet and desperate to make you cum over and over, determined to keep you crying out for her all night long.

♡⁠┊She quickly searches for the strap-on she bought especially for that night—one designed with two attachments for double penetration. The second dildo was crafted for anal play, a vibrating device made of the same material as her mechanical arm. Sevika chose this because she didn’t want to use her arm directly on you, knowing its hard, metallic structure might hurt you. Instead, she always finds creative ways to surprise you, just like tonight.

Carefully, she prepares your body. Her skilled fingers, warm tongue, and plenty of lubricant ensure that both your holes are ready for her. Once you’re comfortable, she lines up the dual-function strap-on, slowly impaling you with precision and care. Her hips move in tandem with the vibrations from the anal dildo, creating an overwhelming wave of pleasure you’ve never felt before.

"Shit, baby, look at this—wet as fuck... You're so greedy, always asking for more. My fuck toy holes are never satisfied, huh?" she teases, her voice low and dripping with desire. She slides two fingers into your mouth, coaxing you to suck on them while she fucks you slowly, savoring every moment. Sevika holds back her own orgasm, her pussy aching and dripping between her muscular thighs as she watches you, beautifully open and writhing for her. Her restraint only heightens her desire, every movement and sound you make driving her wild as she focuses on bringing you to heights of unimaginable ecstasy.

♡⁠┊Sevika activated the function to release a hot liquid from the strap-on, similar to semen. It was a type of hot, translucent lubricant designed to stimulate you and feed her fantasies of shaping your body. "That's it... love, I want to get pregnant so much, you know? You're going to look so beautiful full of my cock. Moan for mommy, moan loudly." she moaned hoarsely, biting your shoulder and making you bite hers too. It was a fair exchange; you would mark her, and she would do the same. She slapped you hard on the ass, moving her hips back and forth quickly while holding your neck and joining your lips in a kiss that mixed your moans. Her breasts pressed against yours, making both your nipples hard as she went harder, finally making you squeeze the silicone cock as the hot artificial liquid rewarded you, leaking from your holes and leaving you dizzy with the specially made substance. "I love you so much... you are mine forever..." Sevika gasped, resting her head on your breasts, kissing the soft flesh and biting gently as she pulled out of you.

♡⁠┊After the mess, she will clean you up and give you a bath, along with herself, not letting you fall due to your legs being weak from the orgasm. She dresses you in one of her loose blouses and puts clean sheets on the bed, placing you to lie in her strong arms, giving you a kiss on the forehead, sighing, also tired, but satisfied. "Go to sleep, so when you wake up, I'll still be here to enjoy our honeymoon." Sevika promises, calming you down as she waits for you to fall asleep so she can rest peacefully. It was a small new beginning among so many others, but she swore to herself to always make you happy, and the moon was the witness to that, bathing the two of you in silver on that night of peace and love—everything you needed, everything she needed, and now, there was you."

★ ! yanderestarangel©

[hellinistical]

4:35

Well.

This was certainly a problem. You and Caleb were only supposed to be hanging out while it rained. That meant reading, building model planes, maybe making soup...

Not...this.

Not sitting with your back against his chest and his hands under your shirt, head on your shoulder watching some movie series on TikTok you randomly found. He hums, making some comment about the protagonist and how they should have done something some other way. You had stopped paying attention a while ago.

You didn't even remember its title.

His hands cupped your breasts, under your bra, kneading them lightly. Occasionally, he would offer a firm squeeze here and there.

"Mm, next part please,"

You blink, your back going stiff for a moment. "Eh?" "The next one, pipsqueak- please." "Oh- oh, right."

Your thumb scrolls up to go down to the next video, but it moved on to some reddit story. You'd have to find the rest of the movie somewhere else.

Caleb sighs, pressing against you, absent-mindedly rolling your nipples between his fingers. "A shame. I was enjoying that." He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek, his hands slipping away from your tits as he gets up to go make lunch. Yeah... a shame.

[sashiavi]

SashiAvi's 2k Follower Prompt Event #2 - CatHybrid!Sebastian - Begging & Cunnilingus

Warnings : 18+ Smut | Cat Hybrid Sebastian - Kemonomimi Ears & Tails | Mentions of ruts, heats and other animal/hybrid tendencies | AFAB Reader | Power Switch | Domish to Sub Reader | Begging | Oral | Dirty Talk | Sebastian has a rough tongue <3 | Word Count : 3.6k

•··········•··········˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖··········•··········•

It starts with a nudge to your knee. A scruffy head of dark hair rubbing an affectionate push against your skin, soft feline ears flattening with the nuzzling movement.

A beat skips. Only a huff cutting through the air as another bullying head bump presses further, now a nose adding to the mix as your pushy cat boyfriend attempts a nip to your inner thigh. His cool eyes silently glare up at you, a pout pursed into his expression, fangs pressing a subtle intent into the plumpy plushness of the skin.

"Yes?" You acknowledge him, turning your attention away from your phone screen, a hand coming down to scritch and massage into his ears. Despite the rumbly-soft purrs that bubble up his throat, Sebastian keeps the tight squint of his eyes on you. His tail flicks behind him, a swift swish curling right at the tip, a rhythmic little movement.

He doesn't verbally reply to your question, instead opting to nose further against the inner of your thigh, lips pressing a warm kiss into the skin before he stops short and looks up at you again. A silent plea shining a glitter in his eyes, glinting against the cool grey-blue of his iris. His hand brushes up from your knee, smoothing his palm over your tender-soft and sensitive skin, giving a gentle squeezing grope. A wave of warmth bubbles from your chest, the intentions of your needy cat-like boyfriend clear in the air.

You give a sly side-glance, petting his ears, forcing them to plane down with each brush of your fingers, your legs carefully readjusting into a more modest position.

"What's up, Baby?" You try again, feigning innocence, playing dumb at Sebastian's quiet advances - He had a voice, and you think he could use it more often.

"Mrmmm.." Sebastian trills sound, face morphing into a pouty frown, cheek squishing as he presses his face against your hip- Your legs now properly closed, hindering his advances. His arms wrap around the thick of your bent legs, around the muscle of your thighs, snaking his fingers between them in a careful attempt of prying into the warm squish of flesh. You look at him expectantly, unmoving and unwilling to budge on the matter, waiting for Sebastian's words- Despite the subtle throb between your legs aching at all the ideas of what he could possibly want with you.

"Please.." It's all you get- Barely even phrased as a question, the statement layed out from his tongue with another nip of his teeth. His tail swished side to side, pupils blowing darker with excitement- some monologue running in his brain making him react in such a way.

"Please what? I can't understand you~" Your voice sings, a playful and scruffy pat to his hair coming next, messing up the fur of his ears. Sebastian scowls, more purrs rumbling from his chest, his touch becoming handsy - Gropey and squeezy, a gentle attempt to pry your thighs open. "You have to properly ask, y'know." You both knew he didn't actually- You being more than happy to let him take to you any other time; Fingers stuffing under the fine grip of your shorts waistband, bending at the hip over the Saloon pool table so his greedy cock could slide between your thighs- Heck, even the quick bouncy ride on his lap while Sam ran off to the bathroom during a session of Solarian Chronicles.

But this was fun, you were having fun. Teasing him, urging him to ask and plead- Yoba to beg, even.

"You smell nice.." His words are vague, actions telling you more than what he was dropping. Nice - A simple descriptor, sweet even, if it weren't for the way his nose presses against your skin, nuzzling in an attempt to get closer between your legs.

"Do I?" You tease, a hand coming to carefully scratch under his chin, fingers curling as if you were petting a real Kitten, yet instead of soft fur, you're met with the barest grain of his shaved face on his otherwise smooth and clear skin. It still earns you a tilt to his head, his melty reaction making your heart feel oozy with gooey affection. "How nice?" You were probably playing a dangerous game, poking back at Sebastian with a smugness stuck to your tone, prompting him with your teasing.

"So fucking nice.." He breaks a little with that hot taint of profanity, ears twitching, fingers groping a squeeze into your flesh. His tail swished with his words, flicking a rigid motion before its back to that lazy sway. “God- Gonna make me spell it out?”

“Hmmn.. I just think it’d be cute if you begged.” You bite into your lip, a feeble attempt at stifling your teasy smile.

He bristles at that, hairs standing on their ends, the fur of his tail and ears puffing up as a shiver surely crackles down his body. A sigh leaves his lips, breath trickling out until it forms into a soft pur, his head tilting up at you with a dazzly sweetness in his eyes-

-

“Please- Fuck.. hahh... Seb- Baby, please-!” Your own sobby pleads tumble from your throat, lips stuck in a perpetual frown, fingers tangled through Sebastian’s murky black hair as his tongue attacks the bud of your clit.

Sebastian's ears twitch with a mock flick of annoyance before he's coming up for air, sinking the dagger point of his canines right into the sensitive tendon connecting your thigh to your drooly cunt. You can’t help the whimpery noise that keens up from your throat, a high and shaky sound, stuttered and long as you breathe out. The hybrid dares to purr, nuzzling his nose into your bare skin as he marks you up, suckling a hot bruise, breaking those delicate blood vessels into a stingy bloom of a mark.

His pink tongue peeks out to soothe the area with licks - like it does much; the roughness of his tongue born up from his secondary feline species making your body tense with a sickly sweet sting, his lapping reminiscent of a milk-starved Kitten. Yoba, don't even start on the bar lodged in the flesh of the muscle, the metallic ball of a tongue piercing shining a soft glint in the low-light. Bites turn to licks, nibbling suckles agitated more with the grate of his kitten tongue, paired with those deep, sharp eyes of his, angled up to look at you with a glint of cockiness. 

“Sebbyyyy..” You give a whine, already missing the hot warmth of his lips wrapped around your clit, all cold and twitchy as he hums back at you, mocking a sobby noise of complaint as he sinks his teeth into the ever so sensitive skin of your inner thigh, leading away from where you needed him. He calls your name back to you, all muffled and slobbery, mimicking your drawn out cry before he suckles another mark - Pinchy, stingy, only making your poor pussy drool more of a mess. “Y-You’re mean.. Come backkk-” You whine at him, lips pouty when he shakes his head ‘No’, popping off of the fat of your thigh to admire the bruise he'd suckled into your skin. “Why?” You give a bratty huff, just wanting to feel the passions of Sebastian's tongue, how eager he was minutes before, rubbing up against you with his purring and nuzzles.

“I just think it’d be cute if you begged” He parroted that same sentence that had started it all, once spouted so cockily from your own now trembly, wobbly lips. The bar in his tongue knocks against his teeth as he plays and fiddles with it, those canines pointed with the beginnings of a cat-like grin, completely amused with his teasing. You sniffle a pout, fingers curling to give a tug to Sebastian's hair, pulling at his delicate ears, making his tail twitch and puff with a shudder. Another nip, one meaner and laced with a warning; “Words, Princess.” Another sharp flick of his eyes, hypocrisy dripping off of him, as if he hadn’t wordlessly poked at prodded around you to get you like this.

“I..” You breathe a frustrated sigh, a prick of tears starting to sting right at the inner corners of your eyes. You gasp into a swallow, a permanent pout tugging at your lips, “-Can’t think of words..”

“Nawh..” You know the sound is something completely faux, the tut of Sebastian’s tongue kissing his teeth just another mean thing to add on to the pile. He presses a warm kiss to the bloomed up hickey he’d bitten into your thigh, dragging his lips over the tender spot before he speaks, “Guess you should find some words then, hm?” His tail flicks, eyes flicking to a sickening slit before they bloom into those blown out, kitten-sweet excitable pupils.

You’re sure you’re one more tease away from a genuine sob; Something pitiful and entitled, so tired of Sebastian giving you a taste of your own medicine. God, you should give in- Plead and beg with the meany between your legs, play sweet and nice and ah! Another sink of his pointy teeth in your flesh, making you squirm and frown, molars digging into the inside of your cheek with frustration- 

“Please-” Your cry is short and wincy, “I need you, Sebby..” You baby at him, voice pitched higher as your pleadings begin.

An eyebrow raises, a soothing yet spiky lick lapped over the skin of your thighs, edging just a smidgen closer to your core. He hums a long ‘Mmhmm?’ of acknowledgement, urging you on with a slight grin twitching at his lips. 

“Really want you.. Need you back…” You glance down, biting into your bottom lip.

You’d at least earned something with the sweet tone of your begs - It was a start, Sebastian licking a fat, performative stripe up your cunt, gathering the creamed up slick that weeped from your hole. The action was near pornographic; Pretty and pink, covered in slick, that metal ball of his piercing coated and glinting with a sick mix of spit and cream - God, you twitch against him, clit jumping as the grate of his tongue brushes over the neglected bud, your fluttery entrance joining in, throbbing with a stingy pulse of arousal. His eyes are on you, behind thick lashes and his dark brow, those fangs of his glinting as they just poke from behind his upper lip. It was a taste; For both you and him, a teasing ease of what was to come and a milk-sweet treat he could savour as he smacks a kiss to your clit. 

He looks at you expectantly, those sharp pupils blown wide and black as his nose nuzzles at your mound, ghosts of his breath brushing warm kisses against your poor pussy. Your breath hitches right at the back of your throat, hiccuped a spike of adrenaline thrumming through your arteries, your lips dare to wobble, mouthing around the syllables of his name in a pitiful little “Sebby..”

“Hmnn?” He sounds almost nonchalant, as if he were completely unaware of the effects he had on you, playing into something cool and collective- Mean, that's what he is, a big meany messing with you, threading the beads of your desperation through threads of arousal that had your thighs twitching a flexing fidget. 

“Fuck- Sebby, please.. I need you, need you so bad I’m-” The pointed look he gives you tells you, you’re not quite close enough. Specifics were what he was after. 

Humiliation twists in your tummy as you string out a pathetic whine of pleas; “Need you b-back on my..” Your cheeks flush hot, unable to properly get your mouth around the dirty words he wanted you to speak - “Don’t wanna say it..”

“Nawhh.. But… You have to if you want me to eat you out, Silly.” His words roll off of his tongue easily, a scrunch to his nose and a twitching grin pulling at his lips as they speak against your warm skin. His tail sways behind him, cheeky and amused, a tell-tale sign that he was finding enjoyment out of all of this.

You try again.

“Please- Use your tongue on me.. ‘Wanna feel good- Tease me n’ make me all needy n’ squirmy I don't care-!” You suck in a breath, exhaling with a wobbly frown, “Just want your mouth- Mouth n’ fingers and whatever you wanna do t’me..-” You hum a long sound, all sweet and frustrated.

Ahh, Third times the charm, right?

“Sebby.. P-Please eat me out-” It burns to say it out loud. “I just- I need your tongue on my clit..” You can’t help the internal cringe, a tight squeeze vice-like and shuddery, something coursing a dangerous chemical of embarrassment-turned-arousal, sending a flinch to your dribbly pussy. “See? Need you.. Want your mouth on my c-cunt..” You’d surely lost it, that last ounce of sensibility that rested in your gut, forgotten with the way you part your legs wider, biting your teeth into one of your fingers to ease the nerves, your free hand coming down your tummy to barely brush above your heat, as if to direct Sebastian right where you wanted him.

Finally, he seemed satisfied, ears perking up on his head, through the moppy strands of sable-black swept hair, a pur rumbling from the depths of his throat before he gave you what you needed. He was practically pouncing on to your pussy, with his palms against your thighs going in for the attack – Once crescent eyes blown wide and ink-jet black, tail swishing in absolute satisfaction – That rough tongue of his laps messily against your folds, purposeful in movement, thrashing meanly against your clit-!

“Ahhn- Hahh, Seb-!” You can only cry out, muffled by your fingers as you hide your face, finding comfort in your knuckles pressed against your frowning lips. Your eyes flutter closed, a crease forming between your brows, a tight-knit scrunch of pleasure washing over your face accompanied by the hot sting of a blush flushing against your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose. Sebastian huffs a sloppy chuckle against your core, breath sucked back in with a slurpy lick through your folds.

“Hmnph.. C’mere-” Sebastian’s voice muffles, a grumble to his timbre that wasn’t truly something of frustration – Completely laced up with a mockingly hot purr of endearment. The comfort of your hands are yanked away, fingers threading through his own, all long and grabbable- Perfectly moulded to engulf and grab, urging your fingers to brush strands of hair up and out of the way of his eyes, of his tongue, showing off the bridge of his nose and thick, dark brows behind the mound of your cunt as he laps and feasts. Your fingers twitch a pull, tight against the roots of his hair, making the man let out another low purr, “S’ better- Hmmnh?” His tongue cuts up his words, lulling through his speech pattern as his affections continue. Ahh, you could see him now, relish in the view of him between your legs, strands of hair escaping your fingers to lace over his forehead, those sharp eyes right on you.

He lets the bead of his tongue stud jab into your clit, swirling around and around hoping that little metal ball glints with the light, sparkles with the mix of his saliva and the addicting juices of your cunt. His fingers massage and sink into your thighs, giving little stingy nail-tainted squishes as a reminder to Keep. Watching.

Watch the flutter of his tongue and nipping suckles he makes into your clit, look into that subtle swirl of blue in his eyes as he laps a long, strong lick on your cunt right before he musters up a hot glob of saliva to spit onto the twitchy bud of your clit. All bubbly and thick on his tongue as he lapped it right back up before you could start whining up your complaints again. You had begged enough for him, right? Spilled those filthy wants and desires out for him, dealing with the residual ache in your chest, all flushed from embarrassment – Fuck, could you even breathe? With that constant string of breathy whines that fall from your lips as his tongue abuses your cunt, thrashing and jamming meanly while those pointed canines carefully sink into your flesh as he suckles a mess.

He was practically making out with your pussy – Tongue filled kisses all swirly on your clit, venturing further to sink into the supple clench of your hole, feeling each and every twitch on his tongue and flex of your bud against his nose. He looked a mess – Spit and cream dribbling down his chin, smeared up on his nose, lips pursed and plump with use, face surely sticky with your essence- Ohh, but he didn't seem to care. Sebastian relished in your sticky-sweetness, indulging in your pretty scent, happy to make a mess of himself if it meant you were whining, tugging on his hair and petting at his ears, praising and hiccuping begs of “Don’t stop don’t stop-!” Fueling up his ego as he shakes his head against your cunt in indulgence. 

How could he stop now? Fucking the fat of his tongue against your weepy hole, lapping up all the cream you drooled up for him - All wet and mushy, the press of his tongue against your cunt earning up a string of slick and clicky noises, hot spit he can’t help but salivate up adding to the mess between your legs. His licks are rough, spiky in pleasure, moulded around the smooth relief of his piercing, the repetitive sensation bringing you closer and closer, nearer to the threat of your release, and he hadn’t even begun the abuse of his fingers-

It's easy to jam two deft fingers into your cunt with how dribbly-drooly you were for him, sweetly creamy like milk pooling around his knuckles, combined with his bubbly spit to make a filthy mess. Your fingers card through his hair to gain a new fistful of something to ground you, tugging the sensitive strands that laid by his silky ears, the fur tickling up against your wrist. Sebastian’s precision was a deadly thing – Knowing exactly where to curl the pads of his digits, hitting that sweetly spongy spot inside of you that had your hips craning, arching to meet with the suckle of his lips and the slow, fucking curls he makes in your cunt.

Your sweetness wraps around him, the ring of your stuffed hole twitching kisses against his knuckles, taught and squeezy with every fuck he makes. It only makes you dribble more for him, squelchy and wet, more of a mess for his tongue to mop up with a loud and obnoxious lapping suckle.

“Sebby- Seb, Seb- R-Right there- right there rightthereplease-!” You have to gasp to catch your breath, feeling the quick build of your threatening orgasm. Sebastian moans, his hot breath and warm purring doing wonders for your arousal. His eyes catch yours, seemingly just as desperate as you were, looking like a milk-drunk kitten who’d nearly had his filling, greedily smushing his face into your cunt, the tip of his nose crunching with the motion, fingers squelching in your wetness with a newfound fever.

“Ohhh~ M’cummin- cummingcummingcumming-! Seb, ohmygod!” You don't mean to slur your words but God-! Sebastian was just too good. 

Your hands clench in his hair, tugging the strands right at his scalp, thighs jerking with an aching hard twitch, snapping Sebastian into a snuggly trap as you finally let go. You squeeze on his fingers, pussy fluttering quick pulses as you cum, clit jumping against his tongue while he drags out his licks, coaxing you through the hot brunt of it all. Fuck, you makes a mess – A pretty and wet orgasm gushing against his rough tongue, enough to bring up a prick of tears at the corner of your eyes, accompanied by a silent plea barely piping up from your throat. Sebastian’s free hand soothes the outside of your thigh, carefully bending your leg at the knee to free himself all while he peppers sweetly soft kisses against the wet of your cunt.

“Hahh..S-Seb-” You mouth a silence swear, voice whining in your throat as he keeps playing even through your high – Milky-wet kisses pressed into your twitchy core, a string of dribble and slick connecting his plump and pinkish lips to your folds, that rough tongue of his licking up the mess, the ball of his piercing glinting as he licks his lips clean. The man chuckles soft, hearts in his eyes as he looks up at you, more and more of those teasy sweet kisses landing around; To your mound, inner thigh, that sensitive tendon he’d bitten mean kisses into, right against the soft of your tummy. He was nuzzling like a cat, tail swaying in a happy manner, ears folding around the clumsy pats you make to them, hums purring up his throat as he slinkily climbs up.

The rough denim of his dark-washed jeans presses against your wetness, surely forming a decent patch of slick and spit into the fabric, your breath hitches, chin tilting up as Sebastian nuzzles his nose right below your ear;

“Beg for more?” You shiver, and he huffs a breathy chuckle. 

Who were you to deny him?

•··········•··········˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖··········•··········• Number 2 for my prompt event ^^ I struggle a bit with Sebby, I hope my next ones come out way sooner!!

I'd love to know if you enjoyed! Reblogs, comments and asks are an amazing motivator ! Thank you so much for reading <33 •Property Of sashiavi - writing & banners created by me

[tojisun]

i feel like simon loses it when you murmur, “like this?” every time you ride him.

it’s not even the first time that you’ve ridden him—and he sure as hell would make sure that it wouldn’t be the last—but there’s always something so sweet at the shy curl of your question, your watery eyes peering up at him like simon isn’t ravenous for every inch of you; your scent, your taste, your touch—he’s hungry for everything that you are.

so when you ask him—

like this? timid and achingly soft;

like this? heart stutteringly quiet and meek;

like this? overwhelmingly intoxicating—

simon buckles and wraps his arms around you because, “yeah,” simon replies, voice rumbling in a ragged rasp. “jus’ like that, love.”

his cock twitches, pulsing, and he has to bite down at the inside of his lip to stop himself from reaching his euphoria. it’s too soon, almost embarrassingly so, but he can’t help himself. it’s like your meek question is a trigger for him, unravelling his body until he feels like he is left as mere threads of his ecstasy, stroked to its tipping completion.

yeah, simon repeats to himself, his thick hands planted on the fat of your ass, squeezing greedily, before hoisting you up to feel the delicious press of your walls drag along his cock. it is such an enveloping warmth; all feverish and soft.

how could you even ask him anything like he isn’t being unmade?

you hiccup, breathy and hitching, as you curl close to him. simon chuckles.

“that’s right,” he says, fucking you back down his length. “s’good, huh?”

all he gets is that familiar thrum of your muffled hum, and simon coos because he knows he’s hit that threshold that renders you nonverbal.

see? such a sweetheart for him.

[chososrightnipple]

❝𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 + 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨)❞

a/n: almost four hundred followers omg.. i love all you freaks mwah!! here is part two as promised. included some requests for characters. aged up! megumi and yuji of course. might do a part three maybeeee? afab body w/no gendered language as usual.

part one.

── დ ──

. *. ⋆ TOJI FUSHIGURO

▸ panty stealing. he thinks of it as memorabilia. snatching your panties from the floor before you have the chance to put them back on- just something he keeps to remember you bye.

▸ daddy kink. we all saw this coming, right? you call him daddy once and it's all he needs to fuck you into the bed for the rest of the night.

▸ thigh riding. seeing you frotting against his large thigh, desperate to cum, pussy practically drooling for it... his favorite foreplay 100%.

▸ cum play. this man will cum anywhere and everywhere and he'll love it. let him cum on your face, your ass, your chest, your back, down your throat, etc etc.

▸ hatefucking. angry sex after an argument where he takes out all of the stress you caused him on your poor holes :(

▸ breeding. you can give him another baby, can't you? you can make him a daddy all over again, right? just let him cum inside of you as much as he wants, he'll make it happen, he swears.

▸ exhibitionism. you grind against him once on the bar floor and next thing you know he's dragging out to the empty alleyway and pressing you against the nearest wall.

▸ size difference. he's so large, so big, every single part of him practically overtaking you. and he gets off on that fact so fucking hard!!

. *. ⋆ NANAMI KENTO

▸ cockwarming. seating himself inside your warm pussy while he's stuck doing all kinds of boring paperwork. he'll fuck you, he swears, you just gotta sit pretty on his lap for a little bit, okay?

▸face fucking. he loves taking out all of his stress on you. gripping your hair as he uses your mouth mercilessly, bullying his cock down the back of your tight throat.

▸blindfolding. silk ribbons in a variety of colors that he matches to the underwear you're modeling for him. only the best for his lover <3

▸ thigh riding. there's no better way to put him in the mood than pathetically grinding yourself against his thigh, using his body selfishly for your own pleasure.

▸ hair pulling. y'all know that one scene... he pulls at your hair exactly like that. fingers going white with how tight he's tugging at you, manipulating your position until you're face to face with his scowl.

▸ spanking. makes you count for every slap and if you miscount, he's starting all over again. pay better attention to him next time, yeah?

▸ semi-public. yes, he will bend you right over his desk, no he doesn't care there's a meeting going on next door. or better yet, against the window of the fourth floor, overlooking the busy street below it.

▸ phone sex. it really isn't any problem that he's across the country on a mission. even just the sound of your whines over the phone is enough to get him off.

. *. ⋆ MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

▸ panty stealing. he would say he feels bad about it, but he doesn't. you looked so good in the lacey little things, he can't help but want to keep them for later. even has his own little drawer for them.

▸ masochism. the stinging pain of your nails running down his back is utterly euphoric. and don't get him started on how harshly you tug at his hair when he's eating you out- he can cum in his boxers just from that alone.

▸ breast play. massaging at the skin, feeling the plumpness under his fingertips. sucking at your nipples and leaving a trail of kisses down the valley of your breasts. he's obsessed.

▸ edging. leaving you just on the brink of release over and over again, until tears are streaming down your face. he'll let you cum eventually, you just look so pretty this worked up for him.

▸ marking. oh my goddd do not get megumi started on this. he doesn't know why it gets him so worked up- seeing you covered in the hickeys and bite marks that he's left on you- but it does.

▸ cunnilingus. eats you out like a man starved, like he'll never eat you out again. pulling him away from your poor pussy is next to impossible if he's not yet done with his meal.

▸ mutual masturbation. sometimes you both just need to relaxation of release and nothing more. sitting across from each other on the bed, or maybe side by side, listening to the moans of the other as you both touch yourselves.

▸ dacryphilia. like adoptive father like adopted son. seeing your eyes brim with tears from how good he's fucking you drives him crazy.

. *. ⋆ YUJI ITADORI

▸ ass play. we all know he's an ass man i mean come on?! doggy style is his favorite position just because of it. seeing how the fat of your ass moves with every slap of his hips is fucking addicting.

▸ praise kink. tell him how good he's fucking you and how much of a good boy he is pleaseeee!!!!

▸ toys. he didn't realize how much he would love bringing toys into the bedroom until he sees how hard you can cum around him while he holds a vibrator to your clit.

▸ raw sex. he knows it's stupid, fucking you with no protection. you're pussy just feels so good, so warm, he needs to fuck you raw.

▸ face riding. please sit on his face, suffocate him, he doesn't care. it's his favorite position to eat you out.

▸ overstimulation. poor baby doesn't even mean to overstimulate you half of the time- he just has so much stamina, you understand that, right? and seeing you so flushed and fucked out under him has him so horny. just one more round, yeah? you can do that for him, right?

▸ dirty talk. yuji is a yapper and that doesn't stop when he's fucking you. the filth that comes out of his mouth has you wet just thinking about it.

▸ dry humping. the tension, the intimacy, the panting, the friction?? all of it, it's like a drug to him.

[earlgreylatte]

Hello, You

(Invincible Variants x Reader) Of course he would come to see you. You’re the reason he’s here, after all.

After hearing the news to stay inside as the attack of Invincible copycats decimated cities across the globe, you hid under your blanket, the light from your phone illuminating your face as you watched the broadcast for any sign of your Mark.

You could only hope that he was alright, that he wasn’t blaming himself, that he knew you were waiting for him to come back safe. He already has enough problems as is.

Your distress is momentarily tempered when you hear your window slide open and your floorboards creek. When you don’t hear Mark immediately greet you or tease you for being bundled up, any concern you felt for Mark becomes overshadowed by fear for yourself as you hear footsteps near your prone form.

You can only tremble, clutching your blanket close to your body until the room goes silent. You shakily exhale, becoming confused when another quiet beat passes. When your breath returns to normal, the blanket is ripped off of you, eliciting a scared yelp.

For a moment you only stare in confusion at the sight of your boyfriend’s estranged father before realizing it’s not Nolan Grayson that stands before you, but Mark clad in a costume similar to his father’s. His face is impassive, mouth a firm line, so unlike the expressive nature of your Mark.

He calls your name. Quietly, yet there was something heavy in his tone. Something you could almost delude yourself into thinking was longing.

His hand brushes against your cheek, moving down your face before resting on your shoulder, a finger pressed against your pulse.

“You sound healthy,” he comments, deceptively neutral in his delivery, but even behind his goggles, you could feel his gaze burning into your face, “In my world, you had cancer. By the time the Viltrumites reinforcements had arrived, it was too late. All that talk about life changing technology and medicine, but it ended up being utterly useless to me.”

Your breath hitches, but he continues, “But here there’s a me that rebelled and an you that never got sick. That got to live past high school. That’s just the way it goes, I suppose.”

His hand travels lower, brushing past your collarbone before resting on your breast, your heart hammering beneath his palm.

“Do you know why I came here?” He wonders, his free hand planting itself on your bed, as he moves his body to hover above yours until the only thing you can see is him.

“No,” you whisper, staring into black lenses.

“Because even after all these years, the only heart I wish to know, to hold, and to cherish is yours. I was willing to play human for you, to tolerate the presence of the idiots that breathed the same air as us, but then they all had the audacity to outlive you. And I can’t move on. So the selfish man that I am, I’m here to take you. To have you by my side again, no matter how much blood I have to spill,” He declares before pressing his lips against yours, muffling your gasp and cries, gripping your wrist when you try to shove at him.

He only pulls away when you start to feel lighthearted, looking down at you as you struggle to catch your breath.

“You can cry and protest all you want. You loved me once, you can do it again,” he asserts, bring your wrist to his mouth, leaving a kiss against your pulse point. “This world was doomed the moment your Mark decided to rebel. I won’t let you die because of his delusions.”

“…I’m not her,” you speak up. “I don’t know you, not really.”

“I know,” he responds, “but every inch of my body is crying out to you, and I’d rather kill everyone on this planet before I let you go again.”

He releases your wrist, instead sliding both hands under your shirt, gloved hands savouring the feel of your skin, your warmth seeping through the fabric.

“…you’re shaking,” he notes, throwing a glance at your discarded blanket on the ground, “I’m sorry, I’ll warm you up. I promise.”

“Mark,” you say, out of instinct more than anything else, your mind coming to a blank.

“Shh,” he hushes you, voice gentle but firm, “Let me take care of you. Like I always do.”

A part of you is relieved that he hasn’t taken off his cowl because you knew you’d crumble under the emotion that would undoubtedly be in his eyes. The same eyes that always held so much love and adoration towards you.

His lips press against yours again, more demanding and heated, as hands travel higher and higher until—

“Looks like I wasn’t the only one that thought to come here,” an amused but familiar voice drawls out, the Mark on top of you pulling away, body covering yours protectively.

Another Invincible sat at your window ledge, black and yellow costume starkly contrasting the rest of your room. He smiles at you when you peak around Mark’s arm.

“Honestly, you were acting so high and mighty earlier, but you’re pretty desperate, huh?” He mocks as the other Mark’s face becomes stonier. “But, really, you should fuck off somewhere else because that’s my girl you’re feeling up right now.”

Before he can respond, another voice interrupts him as you notice yet another Mark, floating behind the one at your window.

“Fucking seriously? How did you even get here before me? I bet you halfassed your locations,” The Mark with a mohawk that has you raising your eyebrow complains, “I literally called dibs on this one! Find someone else!”

Feeling the tension build up, you only hope that Mark checks in and saves you from the bullshit you’re witnessing as they begin to snarl and yap at each other like feral dogs.

Why me, you lament.

Shiesty Mark: hey, babe, it’s Big Dick Friday—why the fuck are you all here??

Why is there no Omni Mark content, he and that shiesty mark were my favourite…

I feel like omni mark is the definition of ‘quite literally hates everyone but you’

Masterlist

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

Wolf hybrid pack that was supposed to eat chubby bunny reader but instead take you in and use you as their little breeding toy.

They just kind of adore you, spoiling you with freshly picked fruits and vegetables, doting on their sweet little bunny as much as possible.

You want snuggles? They’re making a cuddle pile immediately, and you’re at the center. You’re hungry for something sweet? They’re ransacking the nearest village and bringing back every sugary item they can find.

They get into a lot of fights over who gets to breed you first once mating season comes around. You’re a bit afraid, seeing all these tall, needy wolves circling you like you’re a slab of meat.

It’s the first time they’re ever rough with you, pushing your soft body down and holding onto your hips as they rut into your fat pussy until you’re knotted over and over again.

Once they’ve all had a turn, they’re back to purring and cuddling into you, giving you little mating bites and cleaning you up.

You decide it’s worth it to get fucked out of your mind every once in a while if it means you’re treated like the pack’s princess. After all… it feels way too good being all full of cum and being bounced on one knot then another…

Being adored by an entire pack of wolf hybrids isn’t easy, but you’re a horny bunny, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljr @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68

[sunnypopoki]

— MUZZLE : P.7

(Yandere Mafia Husband x Female Reader)

SYNOPSIS: Your husband has been suspicious lately. Going out for days on end, answering suspicious phone calls, being extra clingy when he can... is he cheating on you? Little do you know, it's nothing like that. The world of the mafia is unforgiving.

TW: INSECURE REALISTIC FEMALE READER, FOUL LANGUAGE, MARRIED RELATIONSHIP, YANDERE CONTENT, MATURE THEMES, OVERTHINKING READER, AFAB READER, ETC.

THIS STORY HAS YANDERE CONTENT. THAT MEANS THERE WILL BE MORE MATURE CONTENT. THIS IS IN NO WAY A STORY MEANT TO ROMANTICIZE YANDERES, SO PLEASE DO NOT DO SO EITHER. PLEASE DO NOT COPY THIS STORY. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED TO POPOKI ON WATTPAD, QUOTEV, AND TUMBLR.

P.6 / P.8

Promises were said to be sacred, but after the following days, you gave up on thinking on such a childish claim. You were walking on a tightrope and before you knew it, you finally started to hear it withering below.

Kieran did his best to stay true to his word but in the end, it was nothing more than a fruitless dream said in the heat of the moment. He ended up picking up his phone calls and you ended up sleeping alone. You were losing the energy to care even if your heart throbbed at the thought.

Stepping off the bus, you pulled your bag up your shoulder and sighed. Kieran took the car that morning to work and so you were forced to take the bus to get to college. If he knew, he'd most likely apologize over and over again, and then never let you ride the bus again. He was always finicky about public transport.

You hopped around the puddles left from the early morning rain.

Ever since the breakdown in the car with Kieran, even to go as far as snapping at Danny, you've done a lot of self-reflection. And you mean a lot. While you were going to school for psychiatry to become a therapist, you weren't the best at regulating your own emotions. It was easier to point out other people's issues rather than pointing out your own.

Maybe I do need to look into seeing a therapist, you thought. It would be better than snapping at people.

Because in truth, you felt guilty. Very guilty. Not about everything else that's going on—but because of how you treated Danny. Everyone knows that it's easier to look back on your mistakes after they pass, and now that you were looking back on that lunch, you saw a lot of things that you could have done differently.

Like the fact he actually did care. Sure, you didn't realize it then, but now you could. How he tried to comfort you when you were spacing out, how he asked how you were doing, telling you that he trusted you enough to want you to work with him.

"He probably wouldn't have told me about my dad if he was working for him," you mumbled under your breath. "He wouldn't have even brought him up. If he wanted to manipulate me, there was no reason to bring up my father."

You assumed the worst. You assumed Danny was just like your dad, just because he happened to be a businessman too. How sad, right? You were so stuck in the past that it was hard to appreciate the love you had now.

Danny wasn't a bad man but you were so quick to assume he was even though you hadn't seen him in half a year. You acted just like how your father treated you; cruel, judgmental, selfish. You didn't take into account what Danny felt. Maybe he was just as anxious as you, he always did have social anxiety in school, even with his good grades.

For someone who wants to become a therapist, you were pretty quick to judge an old friend just because they talked about a topic that made you uncomfortable. How would Danny know it made you uncomfortable? It wasn't like he could read your mind. He hadn't seen you in six months and you expected him to still know everything about you?

You bit your lip. Damn it. Why did a throw a tantrum like that? I even yelled at Kieran.

Guilt was like a sword doused with poison. The moment you realized what you did after some self reflection, there was a sharp pain in your chest like a blade plunging into your heart. Then there was the creeping sensation of nausea each time you thought about what you did, getting worse and worse with each day that passed.

You hopped over a pothole on the sidewalk, narrowly avoiding pedestrians walking down the street. "...Should I message Danny and apologize? What if he doesn't want to hear it though?"

It was hard not to run away. It would be easier to pretend it never happened, to act like he was in the wrong, but in truth—both of you said things that weren't nice. Both of you hurt each other. It wasn't black and white and you realized that, but in that moment, you were selfish enough to think that you were the good guy and he was the bad guy.

"If I don't apologize, I'll continue to feel bad... but he might hate me now. What if he hates me? What if he'll hate me either way?"

Oh yeah. You needed a therapist.

Sorting out your brain was like an impossible puzzle. It was hard to see all the pieces when you didn't have a full view of the table, but with a therapist, they could help sort it out. And maybe they could help sort your thoughts about Kieran too. You slowly wrapped your arms around yourself and frowned.

Each time you had a bad thought and you tried to push it away, it came back ten times more forceful. It was hard to stop thinking. Maybe you had OCD... or just extreme anxiety... or some other undiagnosed mental illness?

I don't want to think about this.

But here you were, continuing to think about it.

You looked over when a dog caught your eye. It rolled over in a patch of grass on the side of the road in front of a storefront. Its hair was soaked with damp grass and dirt, speckled with crunched leaves and twigs. It was having the time of its life. Tailing wagging and panting loudly, you smiled softly when it started rolling over again.

You know what? Maybe a pet would help you sort out some of your issues. Going to bed in a cold bed would be impossible with a puppy cuddled up next to you. Taking care of something would help you distract yourself from all your thoughts too. Like an emotional support animal.

What type of dog would Kieran like?

Your jaw clenched up. Danny made you feel bad, but how you acted with Kieran made you feel sick to your stomach. You yelled at him. You yelled at him like your dad used to yell at your mom. Did he get scared? Is he hurt? You didn't know, since you avoided him ever since then.

You weren't a good friend and you weren't a good wife either. You yelled at him just because you were emotional, fuck, there was no reason to raise your voice but you did. So what if Kieran was distracted at that moment? That didn't give you the right to scream at him.

Maybe I'm turning into my dad? The thought made your blood turn cold. What if I picked up some of his traits with how he treated Mom?

Your father was an abuser. Not only towards you, but his wife as well. You were a child she didn't want, but he forced her to have one nonetheless; being a child of rape didn't help the family bond at all. The moment you were born was the moment everything went downhill. Your father wanted a boy but you weren't one, so he blamed and hit your mother for it, taking his frustrations and cruelty on you when he wanted to.

Your mom didn't love you. Over time, even if it was hard, you realized that you didn't blame her.

Imagine how hard it would be to bond with someone knowing that they shared the same blood as the man who abused you.

You stomped down the streets. The world was spinning, your throat closed up. What if you were abusing Kieran and didn't realize it? What if you were neglecting him? There was the possibility you weren't doing everything subconsciously, right? You yelled at him. You doubt him. You sneaked to look at his computer when he wasn't home.

You were the walking, breathing, sighing incarnation of your father.

No, no, no. Don't spiral, (Y/N). You know that you're spiraling so stop it! You mentally scolded yourself, clutching your bag tighter to you. I need to find a therapist, someone who can help me.

The city was blaring and it was hard to hear your own thoughts. Therapists were always hard to find; either it's because they were too expensive, or too booked, or too far away. You personally weren't a big fan of doing therapy through video. You were more of an "in-person" type of person, if that made sense.

Maybe if you were lucky, you'll find—

"Shit!"

You had only a split second to look up and realize someone turned around the corner you were walking past. Only a split second to dodge. But that was impossible, you weren't Superman. Your nose slammed into his chest and your feet stumbled back, barely managing to catch yourself so you didn't fall to the ground.

The man's hands were full and he struggled to balance himself. Your arm shot out to catch him, or maybe just grab something out of instinct, but it was too late—he crashed. His coffee splattered all over and his sunglasses skidded across the cement.

Realization hit you like a truck.

"Fuck! I'm so sorry!" you fretted, quickly helping the man up from the sidewalk. Cold sweat made your palms damp and your cheeks were burning hot. "I wasn't looking where I was going, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

Just as quickly as he fell, the man hopped back up with ease. He grumbled curses under his breath in another language, fixing his orange and red sweater, while he put his sunglasses back on. Luckily those weren't cracked, they looked expensive. No way would you have been able to pay those off.

You bent down to grab the empty coffee off the ground. Talk about guilt, you felt extremely guilty now. How did you not see him?! You should have been paying attention, not absentmindedly walking down the streets like a doofus! Now look at what you did; knocked down an innocent bystander because of your stupidity!

"I'm so sorry! Uhm, I can—I can buy you a new coffee," you stammered.

He whipped back around. You could barely see the heated glare behind the tinted lenses, his Italian accent harsh. "Bitch, fucking watch—"

He froze when he saw your face. For whatever reason, he looked like he had a scary realization of impending doom right when he saw you. Like the music for Jaws just started playing and he was looking down the mouth of a great white shark. The blood on his face drained to his feet and he licked his chapped lips.

You, on the other hand, took his expression as unbridled anger. He had every right to be angry. You'd also be pissed if someone knocked into you and made you spill your coffee and all your belongings. Especially since he looked all out together nicely, you probably just ruined his cool 'vibes'.

His dreadlocks were pulled into a pretty bun. You noticed the silver charms in his hair, matching the designer watch on his wrist. Even his orange-tinted sunglasses matched his orange and red sweater. He looked like he took an hour to organize his outfit for the day. Thank god the coffee didn't get all over the front of him. You hadn't a clue how much his sweater and pants cost, but based on that watch, you didn't want to look at the price tag.

If only you had a hole that you could jump and hide in forever. "I'm so sorry! Wait, here, let me..."

You turned out your wallet and pulled out twenty dollars. That had to be enough for coffee and a little something extra from the cafe nearby, right? You'd be fine. Ten dollars being left in your wallet was enough to buy a small sandwich on campus for lunch. It was your fault for forgetting your debit card back at home.

"Here, sir! Uhm, please take this. You can get yourself another coffee and something extra from the cafe nearby. I am so sorry."

The man rubbed the back of his neck, not reaching for the money. He didn't even glance at it. "Oh—uhm—It's okay. I don't need it."

"No, please, take it. I won't be able to forgive myself if I just ruined your morning like this," you confessed. "I wasn't watching where I was going, I'm sorry."

He was hesitant. You weren't dumb, you could tell he looked uncomfortable around you. There was the possibility that he was so angry that he was trying to hold it all back, making his movements almost robotically evasive. With muscles like his, he could easily hurt you if he wanted, but instead, he was acting like he'd get seared if he looked at you.

You prayed to god that he didn't explode and scream at you. You didn't think you'd be able to handle that this morning.

"I don't need the money. Ah... it's just—uhm, it's just a mistake. We all make mistakes."

But I'll feel like shit if you don't take it.

His complete 180° attitude was jarring. One moment he was glaring at you and calling you a bitch, now he was saying it was a mistake. Was he just trying to keep face?

You caught a glimpse of something black in the corner of your eye. Turning around, your face drained when you noticed his phone on the ground. His phone was cracked. Your mouth opened in horror and you choked, noticing that it was a newer brand.

How much were those phones? 2,000 dollars? You'd have to sell your soul to get him that type of money.

"Oh my god! I'm so fucking sorry! I didn't realize I broke your phone!"

He blinked. "Huh?"

Looking down to where you were staring, he finally noticed that his phone was on the ground, the screen destroyed. It stared back at him with cracked glass and a chipped case. It was just a small tumble! Why did it look like it went through the Himalayas?!

There was a long pause. The man cleared his throat, rubbed his face, bent down, and grabbed his phone. He tapped at the screen but it didn't come on. Again, it didn't turn on. And again, nothing. He didn't look as angry as you thought he'd be, but that didn't smooth your nerves.

"...uh, It's okay. I can—"

"It's not okay! I'll—I'll pay for it. Uhm, I don't have the money with me now, but uhhhh..." you pulled out a notebook from your bag and tore a piece of paper, "please email me here, since your phone is decimated. Fuck, I am so sorry. I'll pay you back I swear. Promise."

He didn't take the note or say anything. He stood there awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, muttering something under his breath. He looked fed up. Oh no. You screwed up big time. You made him fall, lose his coffee, and crack his super duper expensive phone.

"...do—do you not have an email? I can uh, I can give you my phone number if you have another phone to reach me," you asked, clutching the paper tight in your hands. "I—I don't have the money now but I swear I'll get it! How much was it? 1,500? 2,000?"

The man cleared his throat. There was another long pause before he hesitantly glanced at me. "I'm not upset. I just have a question. Are you... uh, (Y/N)?"

If there was a magic word to put all your defenses up in a heartbeat, it would be your name. It wasn't like a lot of people knew it. You didn't flaunt it on social media and you weren't famous, you didn't have a lot of friends either, so it wasn't like it was normal for a random person to know your name on the street. Your muscles wound up. Maybe this man worked for your father? It wouldn't have surprised you if he sent someone to stalk you.

You glanced around. There were no suspicious fancy cars on the street, or suspicious people that looked like they were watching you.

Repaying the phone didn't seem to matter all that much anymore.

"...yes? How do you know my name?"

He bit his lip and glanced around as if he was scared some monster would come out of the shadows and attack him. He looked more paranoid than you did. "Uh... sorry for randomly asking that. However, I'm a friend of your husband, Kieran."

Your eyebrows furrowed. You've never heard of him or even seen this guy before. Maybe he was a client of Kieran's? A writer or journalist? A fellow editor? If you had to put it nicely, the man in front of you didn't look like he had the patience to sit down and edit written work. With bulky muscles like that, you'd expect him to be a wrestler or full-time bodybuilder.

The man cleared his throat and pushed back the money you gave him, along with the torn paper. "As Kieran's friend, I can't take his wife's money. I can buy some coffee and a new phone easily." 

Seriously? Easily?

"But if you don't mind, I'd like to talk to you about something," he straightened his back up and there was a spark of confidence in his eyes, along with some determination as if he made up his mind about something. "Could you sit with me at the coffee shop now? I have concerns about Kieran."

This was weird. This entire ordeal was so weird that it almost didn't feel real. Let's put it into perspective; you bump into a man and he calls you a bitch, then changes and starts saying you made a mistake, asks for your name, claims to be your husband's friend, and then asks to talk to you over coffee? So yeah, weird.

You were about to say no, but then stopped yourself when you remembered you were in his debt. You just broke his phone and made him spill his coffee, the least you could do was pay for his coffee while he talked to you about something.

Even if it was weird, it wasn't like you were going somewhere where it was just you and him alone. He couldn't possibly kidnap you inside a coffee shop next to a busy street in the city. You examined him head to toe. He didn't look like he had any weapons, and if he was a friend of Kieran's, you doubted he'd harm you.

Your college class could wait. Luckily your professor was kind enough to know you weren't the type to ditch class willy-nilly.

"Okay, but I'll pay for your coffee. It's the least I can do," you stuck your hand out for a polite shake, "what's your name?"

The man took your hand. "Mathew."

"Nice to meet you then."

It was awkward, so you didn't say a thing as he started to blabber and lead you to the coffee shop that was close by. You didn't know what to say. Should you compliment his clothes? Ask how he knew Kieran? He'd most likely elaborate over coffee.

You had so many questions you wanted to ask him. Just why was he wanting to talk to you was the big question. It wasn't like you were a super genius and you didn't know a lot about Kieran's schedule, so he could ask about that. You doubted this man knew anything at all about you except your name.

The walk to the coffee shop was a long one. Well, it was realistically only two minutes of walking, but the mental time there was forever. The man blabbered about random things to pass the awkward wall there; the time, the weather, the news. He didn't mention anything about the most recent murder case which you were grateful for. You already had so many things on your mind, you didn't want to think about that.

The door to the coffee shop chimed when the both of you walked in. A young waitress perked up from where she slumped against the counter and quickly rushed to give us a booth.

Finally, things are moving along.

Mathew slipped inside his seat. Unlike the restaurant you ate at with Danny and Kieran, this place was cozy and right up your alley. The smell of coffee beans filled the room and the rays from outside poured through the window, warming up the table. He ordered a black coffee and you ordered an iced caramel latte. You didn't even like lattes all that much, but it was the best thing on the menu.

Mathew smiled. "This coffee shop is very cozy, don't you think?"

"It is."

"It's perfect for a date. Have you taken Kieran here before?"

"No, I have not."

He didn't seem bothered by your robotic responses. It was like he already knew how you'd react to him. He didn't push for any more questions, instead, he waited for you to ask the question you've been dying to ask ever since he told you he was Kieran's friend.

"...So, Mathew, how come has Kieran never told me about you before?"

Mathew tapped his fingers against the table. He had horrible posture, leaning back with a nonchalant air surrounding him. He didn't seem angry or nervous anymore. Maybe it was just possible that he had mood swings. That made more sense than whatever weird explanation you could come up with inside your head.

"I helped raise him, I met the kid back in Russia," he stated and your eyes widened. So he's a very old friend of Kieran's.

"Wait. So you know his family? His parents as well?"

"Yes. Mr and Mrs Morosov helped me back before when I lived in Italy. I became a close friend to them and grew up with Kieran, even though me and him aren't close in age at all."

You squinted. "But you look his age?"

Mathew blinked. His lips curled into a charming smile, his eyes crinkling around the edges when he laughed. "Oh really? It's always flattering to hear a pretty woman compliment my youthful appearance. Thank you, but I'm twenty-nine."

Your cheeks warmed up. He really did look young, as if he drank from the fountain of youth itself. His face was incredibly smooth (more so than yours) and you wouldn't be surprised if he suddenly told you he was an actor forced to play younger roles in movies. It was always heartwarming to see someone smile so genuinely. It was a good thing that he took that comment as a compliment, you didn't want him calling you a bitch again.

"I think that's why he hasn't told you about me," he confessed and shrugged his shoulders. "We aren't close in age, our interests are different, and he's a married man. I'm too much of a partygoer for him to hang out with me."

That made sense. Kieran has never been a party man of any sort, especially not when he was younger. Sure, he was reckless and a troublemaker, but his trouble wasn't extroverted. He'd much rather sing to himself in the shower than go to karaoke and drink with buddies. He was a risk taker who avoided risks that meant talking to others.

"I see... and I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I'll be blunt, why do you want to talk to me?" You asked, crossing your hands on the table. For some reason, you felt anxious.

Mathew's slowly smile fell. He cleared his throat and fixed up his posture. "Well, it's about Kieran.”

"Oh."

This could be one of many things. Mathew could be here to snitch on Kieran about all the things he has been up to behind your back. He could tell you about a secret mistress, he could tell you about being in a gang, he could tell you about any secret that you didn't know of.

The dread you've felt this entire time trampled over you. Was it finally time? Were you finally going to get all the answers you wanted? Did you even want to hear it now? Bile rose in your throat.

"I need for you to talk to Kieran about something. He's been acting weird lately, and he trusts you more than me, so—" Mathew cut himself off when he saw your blanched-out expression. His lips pursed into a thin line. "Spit it out. You're thinking about something already."

Perceptive people always unnerved you. Swallowing down your thoughts, you wondered if he was trustworthy enough to share your worries with.

The waitress came back with the drinks. A mug was pushed in front of Mathew and he took a greedy gulp, while you nervously played with the rim of your cup. You watched the ice tilt in the coffee.

"Well?" he raised an eyebrow, "If you're thinking about Kieran, we might have the same concerns."

That was true. This man was a friend of Kieran's, and you trusted that without a doubt. He even knew his parents. Maybe this was the leap of faith that you were waiting for. Even if you were nervous, you had to be at least a little brave. It wasn't like you were speaking to Kieran right now.

"...you promise you won't share any of this with Kieran?" you asked.

"Swear on my heart."

"Okay, good," you ignored the trembles in your fingers and quickly took a sip of your coffee. It wasn't that good. "Uhm, well... my concerns are—uh how do I say this?"

Mathew deadpanned as he took a huge swig of his drink. "Bluntly. Always works for me."

I hesitated. "Well then, okay, uhm—I think he might be cheating on me with someone named Sam."

He coughed. "What?"

It was like magic. The moment the words left your lips, you were spilling out your guts to him. Laying out every worry, every secret, every insecurity for him to see. Screw a therapist, now a stranger could see all the puzzle pieces on the table. You couldn't stop yourself.

"I know! I saw on his computer that he was talking to someone called Sam. Like, it could be a boy, but it could also be a woman. I know, it's bad and a shitty thing to do as a wife, I feel bad for snooping but he kept being weird and so—"

Mathew raised his hand and you buffered, but before you could blabber some more, he said, "Slow down. What are you saying?"

"I—uh.. well, I think Kieran is cheating on me with someone named Sam, and I feel bad because I snooped through his laptop—"

"You don't have to feel bad. I'd do the same if my partner or spouse was acting weird and not sharing things."

Your jaw dropped. "...you would?"

Mathew wasn't as judgmental or disgusted as you thought you would. He looked normal, like you didn't do anything wrong. He shrugged.

"Yeah? It's normal. I mean, it's not like you're suspecting him without evidence," he shrugged. "Have you asked him about it? Bluntly? You know, communication is key, or whatever the fuck therapists say."

He was right. Communication was key, that was how so many healthy relationships prospered, but in this situation—communication was scary. You didn't want to think about all the times when not communicating led to toxic situations. You running from the store out of spite, you yelling at Kieran, and you avoiding him. God, there were so many things.

You swallowed the bile in the back of your throat. You felt like vomiting. Why did you have to think about this right now? All you wanted to do was go to your lecture peacefully and come home.

"I'll take your silence as a no. Why haven't you?"

His words felt like a slap. "...I mean... like, what if he... is?"

Mathew was silent for a bit. He stared at you, examining your expression, doing his best to read what you were thinking. Finally, he let out a long sigh and motioned at you. "Then he is. It's shitty, it's fucked up, and he's a douchebag."

Damn, he wasn't lying about being blunt. You held back your excuses. You weren't sure why you immediately wanted to make defenses for yourself and Kieran. If Kieran was cheating then yeah, he was a douchebag, so there was no reason to form up a defense for him. So why did you want to?

"Well..."

"Listen to me, kid. Whether you ask him or not, nothing is going to change unless you confront him about it. If he's cheating, and I'm saying if, then he's gonna cheat whether or not you ask him. That's how cheaters are. Wouldn't you want to know either way?"

"I..." you were at a loss for words.

You didn't like the fact that he was right. He was staring at the most obvious things, but they felt so new and fresh compared to what you normally thought. Like he was shoving a cold drink in front of you and forcing you to chug it down, it was numbing to the brain.

Mathew rubbed his face and waved his hand around, trying to get his point through your thick skull. "I don't think he is, if you're going to ask for my opinion on the matter. It's just, that he has had some... issues lately. To put it lightly."

You frowned. Concern shoved the negative thoughts out of the way.

"Issues? Is he in danger? Or trouble?"

He shook his head. "Family issues. Papa Morosov has been gunning for his ass."

That didn't explain the constant disappearances from the house in the middle of the night. Especially for those long multiple-day trips he always took. But maybe it explained the cuts and busted knuckles? You hadn't a clue. Mr. Morosov wasn't in the States, was he? Mrs. Morosov would most likely want to see you if he was since the two of them always traveled together no matter what.

But you were confused. Mr. Morosov was a kind man, so why was he gunning after Kieran? And what for?

You didn't know much about Kieran's family life. He didn't talk about his experiences in Russia all that much, or London, and you now had a gut feeling it was because of his parents. You just prayed they weren't using him. They didn't seem like the type, but now the thought was there, and that meant it would go away.

"I see..." you drawled, looking down at your hands. Your nails picked together. This day started weirdly and you weren't sure what to feel about it.

There was some closure knowing that Mathew didn't think Kieran was cheating on you. If it was about his father like Mathew mentioned, would that make you feel better? You wanted Kieran to feel better, to pay attention to you, and to be happy. If his father was getting in the way of that, what would you be able to do to keep him safe? What would you be able to do to keep him sheltered from all that?

You couldn't make decisions for Kieran. That was impossible.

But, but, if he was truly getting targeted by his father for things out of his control, you'd have to do something. Use your influence as his wife to help him in some way. Then there was the other option of him cheating on you... you'd rather think about the other.

"Can I give you a piece of raw unfiltered advice?" Mathew blurted.

You looked up. "Go ahead."

"Avoidance isn't a cure to hard situations. Whether or not you're there, it's happening. The world doesn't stop just because someone pretends it is," he pointed at you and you felt your body run with chills. "It's time for you to stop avoiding, (Y/N). Time doesn't stop for you and Kieran just because you want to stay in a time when things were easier."

Your body locked up. He stared deep into your eyes, harsh and unsettling, but you supposed the truth always looked like that no matter what form it took.

A small bell went off in your head. So that was what you were trying to do. You were trying to stay in the past when things were easier, when you were a kid. You did it with Danny too. You compared Danny to his past self, but how many times have you compared Kieran to his past self as well?

"You just need to realize that relationships don't stay the same. You aren't teenagers anymore, you're adults, you're married, you have your own house. Understand?"

"...yes," you nodded slowly, ignoring the burn in your eyes. "Thank you. But let's say I do confront Kieran about... everything. I don't know—where should I—well, what I'm trying to say is, how should I talk to him?"

Mathew looked at you like you had three heads. "Just talk? Don't beat around the bush for his feelings."

You scratched at your head. "Well, I know that, but I mean—how should I bring up with him? Without hurting his—"

"What did I just say?" Mathew huffed, crossing his arms over his broad chest. You flinched. "He's been neglecting your marriage, leaving at night, and you're worried about him being hurt about the consequences of his actions? If he gets his feelings hurt, then boo-hoo. He's a grown man neglecting his wife, he can fucking handle it."

Your lips zipped shut. "But—"

"Ask him, 'Are you cheating on me?' That's it. Five little words that form a little sentence."

It was easy when he put it like that, but each time you tried to say those 'five little words' in the past, you always clamped up. Every. Single. Time. You were starting to believe that you couldn't say that at all, maybe you were cursed and you weren't allowed to say that sentence at all.

Mathew watched your expression and his lips quirked into a goofy smile. "You rambled to me after you bumped into me, you can ramble to him. Just don't break his phone."

Your face turned hot. "I'm still so sorry—"

"Geez woman. It was a joke," he snorted and stretched his arms behind him on the booth, his smile growing. His orange sunglasses lowered on his nose and you watched his dark eyes spark with mischief. "I'd suggest joking with him when you confront him. He won't be able to lie when he hears how uptight you are."

You gaped. Did he just call me uptight?!

"Well excuse me! I'm just responsible."

"Oh? You are?" he grinned, "responsible enough to walk in a straight line without bumping into someone?"

He was quick-witted. He shot out comebacks without thinking, teasing you without a care in the world. He reminded you a lot of Kieran in that sense, only Kieran was a lot softer when it came down to teasing you. Mathew was a lump of coal, Kieran was a lump of charcoal; similar but not the same at all.

"Oh shush! I said I was sorry," I crossed my arms. "Plus you called me a bitch at first so I have every right to be uptight."

"Well, you are one."

"What?!"

He burst out laughing. His head flew back and he cackled like a madman, slapping his leg under the table. People in the coffee shop glanced at him, but he seemed to ignore all the attention, wheezing between words. "I'm kidding! My god kid, your face was glorious. Swore a fly almost flew into your mouth with how fast that jaw dropped."

Your face was burning. People always said that older brothers teased their sisters like this, and it honestly felt like it. It made sense. He was like an older brother to Kieran in a way, and now he was meeting someone who was technically like his sister-in-law. Your lips twitched up into a smile.

"Shut it. People are staring at you, I hope you know," you rolled your eyes.

"Let them. They all want me anyway."

You snorted. Mathew finished the rest of his coffee and glanced at his clock, smiling ear to ear. There was a sense of smugness around him.

"Ah. It seems I have to go. I don't want my boss beating the shit out of me for being late," he snorted. It looked like he actually believed his boss would beat the shit out of him. "Don't worry about the money, kid. I'll handle it. I'll pay for your coffee as well."

"Oh no, I can pay for my own stuff!"

"Nope!" he popped the 'p' and slid out of his booth, jumped on the balls of his feet, and rolled his shoulders back. "Now what do you say to people after they make you feel better after a depressive episode?"

So that was his goal for teasing you. It worked, you didn't feel as glum and beaten down as before. There was this sense of relief hanging over your head; with all your worries laid out, and some advice that helped you realize your own thought processes, and his abusive teasing, you felt a little better.

Not perfect; but lighter.

"I—thank you," you smiled softly. "Truly. You've helped a lot."

Mathew snickered. He said nothing before waving nonchalantly and skipping away as if talking to you made his day ten times better. How did we get from him calling you a bitch to him skipping away with a smile? It was like he came out of an old cartoon and he was the trouble-maker coyote.

You looked down at your cup. The ice was melted and the table was still warm. You failed to realize that Mathew never had a chance to share what he originally wanted to talk about. Your smile slowly fell and you took a deep breath, steadying your thoughts.

Maybe you'd talk to Kieran later.

Just maybe.

Check out my new story, DEAD & DONE!! It’s a yandere reverse harem x female reader. If you like this story, you might like this other one. It also has organized crime, gangs, and shady stuff.

Links: Wattpad, Quotev, Buy Me A Coffee, Discord Server.

I’ve thought about opening writing commissions; what do yall think? Tell me in the comments.

[soapcloth]

CW: 18+ MDNI, loan shark!price x reader part 1, fem!reader, afab!reader, noncon elements, manipulative price, implied violence (not reader), petting, almost(?) fingering - 3K words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune massive thank you to @pricetagged for keeping me sane writing this

“Mr. Price-” you spoke up, fingers massaging into your temples. 

“Said you can call me John, Sweetheart.” the man interjected with a serious look. 

He was currently hanging your entire life over your head and he knew it, you most certainly were not going to call him by his first name. Noticing your reluctance, he shrugged and leaned back into your dining room chair.

“Look, I’ve been as kind as a man like me ought to be. Don’t know how much longer I can shoulder the loss, and I don't know how much longer you-” He sent a condescending look of concern your way, a hand fishing into his pocket. “-can take the fees. I’m playing the good guy here, y’gotta pay up, lovie.” 

“No smoking inside.” you warned, voice less confident than you would have liked it to be.

His hand paused in his coat before slipping out and up in a sign of surrender.

There was a buzzing silence between the two of you, only interrupted by the occasional tick of your kitchen clock. It was hard to meet his gaze, eyes rooted downwards towards your table under the weight of your rising debt to one of the most notorious men in the city.

“Right then.” he huffed, palms coming down to rest on the table before twitching upwards. “So?” 

“Give me another month to pull something together.” you spoke, wincing when you caught the way his eyebrows quirked in surprise. “-Please?”

There was no telling a man like John Price what would be happening. He was the shot caller, the unequivocal card dealer, it was only by some higher grace that he let your ill manners slip. 

He grumbled for a moment before looking up. “I respect what you’ve got going on in the shop, I do. Lovely place, good atmosphere—we’re both the entrepreneurial type, so to say I’ve got a bit of a soft spot for you-” the thought that he’d lump your small shop in with his exploitative business made your stomach turn. “-but this is a bit much, yeah? Let’s give it up, sweetheart.” 

Your face twisted into a sharp grimace, but that was all you could do—what right did you have to tell the man whose money you were living off of to get out of your house? Even worse, you hated that he had a point; you were so tired of your lackluster sales and mounting bills, but-

“I’m not the only owner, I-I can’t just make decisions like that.” you reasoned.

He looked incredibly unimpressed, nostrils flaring with a dissatisfied huff. “Right, your business partner.” 

“H-he-”

“If it’s what you want, m’sure he’ll understand,” Mr. Price hummed, eyes narrowing. “I think you’ll find my men and I can be quite persuasive.” 

Registering your cautious demeanor, his lips curled upwards.

“Where is the bloke anyway?” John asked in faux-disinterest, disapproval blooming from his tone. “Always sends you to talk to the big mean lender. S’not right.” 

He shook his head and sighed.

“-Seen this play out before, love. He’s throwing you under the bus.” 

Your mouth shut, hard set into a frown—you knew he was right. Your business partner was most likely enjoying his morning in peace knowing it was your apartment above the building—your life about to be uprooted if it all went tits-up. It was hard not to feel played.

Mr. Price’s gaze glimmered in recognition, and slowly, like a languid predator, he was leaning across the table with a large hand over your own. 

You studied the sparse dusting of translucent hair on his fingers, the trimmed nails at the ends of his stocky fingers, his nice, expensive-looking watch—anything not to meet his eyes. 

“S’not worth it,” he urged softly. “spreading yourself thin like this.” he paused to think. “My advice? Liquidate, I'm sure you and I can work something out in the long term.”

You swallowed, throat feeling impossibly dry as you focused on the twitch of his thumb.

“I’ll think about it.” 

“I don’t want to be the bad guy, but business is business, sweetheart—I’m offering you a hand, it’s in your best interest to take it.” he spoke, palm patting over your digits before withdrawing into his pocket. There was a deep breath drawn in through his lips. “Right, I’ll be off then—Unless you want me over for lunch?” 

He chuckled deeply in solus as he stood, reminding you of a proud and awful beast. “Maybe another time then, love.” 

Ideally not.

-

The shop had closed on another unnoteworthy day, only serving to further hammer in Mr. Price’s point. With defeated footfall on the stairs up to your flat, you nearly slipped, shocked by a fist beating on the front door frantically. You slowly turned around, heart pounding from the sound.

“-Christ! Let me in!” Ewan, your business partner cried out from the other side of the threshold.

You hurried to the door; pushed aside as soon as the lock had released.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” you scolded over the shop door’s welcome chime. You were met without response while the man darted for the till. “What are you-”

“Not now,” he growled. “we need to get out of here.” 

Studying him closer, you realized one of his arms had been held up by a makeshift sling, tucked neatly beneath his quilted coat.

“W-what are you talking about?”

He paused, looking up. 

Your eyes widened when the light from the street outside washed over his face. 

“What happened to you?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” he snarled, freshly dried blood crusting at the movement. His head dipped down as he popped open the till. “Price and his dogs want our heads.” 

“I just spoke to him this morning-” 

“Things change—may have pushed our luck a little too far. We’ve got to get out of town.” 

You frowned “I-I can’t just-” 

“Suit yourself.” he snapped, voice dropping to a mumble while his fingers grabbed at whatever they could, stuffing it into his coat pocket haphazardly. “-Sitting duck.”

“Wait—that's our money.” you balked, watching the empty register drawer shut. He offered you a bloody, tight-lipped smile as he sped past you towards the door; in and out like a typhoon.

“Good luck.”

You were stuck where you stood when the door swung shut, absolutely beside yourself in shock as you watched his figure disappear from view into the night. Looking around your shop, it was just as it had been when you closed up, but the knowledge that you were sitting on an empty till, all alone with the looming threat of a less-than-savory money lender finding out you were back to square one for your upcoming payment was not kind as it crashed into you. 

After a sobering moment, you hobbled over to the point of sales, turning the drawer’s lock tentatively. Of course, the tray was as empty as the day you had bought it, save for a spare coin roll shoved into the side. You stared down at the dark plastic, hand clumsily digging into your pocket for your phone. Swiping at the device, you paused, debating for a moment over whether or not to open the banking app; you already knew what you’d see if you did.

Confirming your fears, the log showed a hefty transaction at the branch earlier that day. The account had been emptied right before the banks closed. 

You had nothing to give John Price.

It was all gone.

You stared at your feet while it sunk in. Slowly, you regained the ability to move, making your way over to the shop door and locking it back up before spinning on your heels. The trip upstairs was eerily silent as you slipped into your flat, legs wobbling as you ambled into your washroom and stepped under the hot stream from your showerhead. You let the water run over you for far longer than necessary, only stepping out onto the frigid tile once your fingers had pruned. 

The dinner prep that followed had gone surprisingly smooth, serving as a vessel to pretend the foundation of your life wasn't crumbling away. You replayed comforting thoughts, words passing through your mind like a liferaft just out of reach– you knew Mr. Price, he always spoke gently to you, he would understand, he-

A fat tear fell onto the hand that braced you over the stove, watching the bubbling pasta through bleary eyes. With a shaking grip, you drained the water and slipped the noodles into your saucepan, stirring and sniffling lamely.

You made too much—you had nothing to give and you had made too much. Typical.

Sitting at your table, you ate in near-silence, listening to your clock’s soft ticking as you tried to ignore the afterburn image of Mr. Price across from you where he had sat that morning.

Your fork paused mid-air when the downstairs shop chime rang out. 

Had Ewan come to his senses? 

You closed your eyes and waited for him to call up to you. 

The stark sound of heavy footfall bustling around the lower level was the first thing to alert you to the intrusion—too much noise for one man. Setting down your fork, you stared owlishly at the door to your flat as if it was the last line of defense between you and whatever was happening down there. Through the muffled commotion, you could faintly make out the creak of your stairs getting louder—closer, you watched helplessly as the knob slowly turned.

The door opened a fraction, a thick hand curling around the side to brace it against the three thunderous knocks that echoed throughout the room.

“Come in.” you spoke up once your heartbeat had evened out, blinking as Mr. Price emerged from the dark stairway.

“Mmh, you’re here.” he stared down at you, a pleased rumble rolling around in his chest. “‘Course you didn’t skip town, smart. Good girl.”

He kicked his boots off and drifted through your kitchen; cabinets and drawers clattering behind you while he whistled breathily, dishing up some pasta as if you had made it for him—you do suppose he had every right to, though. 

Your whole body tensed as a palm ghosted across your back. The plate was set down, and the chair beside you was tugged out from beneath the table. 

Your eyes darted to his dish where it sat, steam trailing fragrantly. Mr. Price tucked in, humming lowly despite his tense demeanor. 

“S’good, Love. eat up.” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and grabbed your fork, gaze falling back to your dish as you picked at the food, appetite long gone. Once again, it was you, Mr. Price, and the sounds of your kitchen—an unwelcome sense of Deja Vu creeping in. 

“Your money’s gone.” you whispered, unable to stand the silence.

He reached towards you, grabbing your napkin, and patting his mouth. “I know.” he scratched at his beard idly. “My boys are dealing with that.” 

You paled, trying not to think about what would happen to your business partner as you watched Mr.Price fuss with his fork, leaning in to take another large bite; a nauseated feeling washing over you. 

“What's going to happen to me?” you murmured, eyes downcast. 

His fork clattered quietly against his plate as his hand came to rest on the back of your neck, thumb petting at your nape. “That’s what I'm here to sort out, sweetheart.” 

Sort out. It was ugly, spoken as if you were just one of his assets. You nodded; compliance met with a soft, affirming squeeze. 

“We can work something out.” his hand traveled downwards, grazing your arm before landing on the meat of your thigh. “I don’t have to be the bad guy.” 

“Mr. Price..” you spoke after a sharp breath, tears threatening to well up. 

You missed the way his eyes crinkled at your weepy tone, thumb brushing your thigh in comfort. 

“I’ve had my eye on you, love—Would have never lent you as much as I did if I wasn't sweet on you. Thought maybe I’d be able to charm my way into your life but it seems like I only see you when you’re late on a payment.” he laughed hoarsely. A knee knocked into yours as he stood; his chair scraping beneath him. The floor creaked under bulk, two large hands coming to rub at your arms with hot breath and trimmed beard tickling at your ear. “-I’m a hopeless romantic, y’see.” 

“Price!” a voice hollered up, causing the man to straighten with a low growl. 

“What?” he barked, voice aimed downstairs.

“Trucks loaded up, gonna head back to the office, yeah? See if Simon needs any help retrieving the cash.” 

His hands flexed around your shoulders. “Good, lock up behind yourself. I’ll be a bit.”

You froze, looking up to see the looming shadow of a man; profile distinct in the low light. He turned to you, offering a tight grin while a wayward hand trailed from your arm to your neck, caressing the skin as he exhaled deeply behind you, resting your head against his abdomen. 

“It’s okay to give in, love.” he cooed. “Let me take care of it all.” 

You had nearly folded when that little prey animal in your brain stiffened, hackles raising. You stood carefully, sidestepping his grasp.

“No, I-I… I couldn’t impose… It’s alright.” you silently begged for him to understand your polite refusal.

“S’not imposing,” he challenged, glaring down at you. “imposing would be the number of zeroes on the sum you owe me—now you care about my burden?”

“That’s-”

“That’s not how this works, sweetheart.” he laughed. “Now, sit back down.”

You complied, lowering back into the seat shamefully.

“Good.” he exhaled, crouching beside you with hands knotted together. “I always collect what’s owed, that’s one thing you need to understand.” 

You nodded.

“-But I’m not opposed to shouldering burdens where personal interest is involved.” His eyes searched your own desperately, palms unfurling to rest back on your legs. “You understand what I'm saying, yeah? You’ll never pay it off alone, let me help. I could take care of you.”

Overwhelmed, you turned away; the grip on your thighs tightening in response as he braced himself, standing up. A warm hand cradled your cheek as he drew your gaze upwards, free hand looping around your back and lifting you to stand against him like a marionette. 

“I don’t know what to do…” you sniffled as his big palm had begun to rub circles into your back. 

He shushed you. “-It’s okay, love. I can handle it, It’ll be okay.”

You nodded, turning and rubbing your face into his shirt as he comforted you. The entire situation was a disorienting experience. Had you done something so wrong to get here?– had it been a crime to want to live a gentle and quiet life in your shop? 

It was hard to care much for your sense of conviction when the root of your problem looked more like a finely woven cradle; what did it matter if you were to bend the knee to your devil’s appeal at this point? 

Still, it felt as if you were teetering on the edge of a cliff.

“I’m scared.” your lips settled for, hiccuping the words into his chest. 

He hummed thoughtfully, the noise buzzing around the walls of your head as his thick arms hooked around your neck, pulling you in deeper—a trap set without any fuss. 

“It’s okay for you to be scared,” he pressed a kiss to your crown. “There’s no way anyone was getting out of those rates you agreed to, love. Let me help you.”

You stiffened, head raising slowly to look at him. He smiled down at you.

“You definitely won’t be taking care of our finances, yeah?” John joked, letting out a deep, phlegmy laugh before he pecked your nose, pulling you back into his chest and rumbling against your head. “Enough nonsense. You’re tired, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

It was all so domestic—like he hadn’t just shown you his rows of jagged, shark-like teeth. 

His grip relented as he patted your bum. “Go on and get into bed, let me clean up dinner.”

-

So you did, brushing your teeth and feeling incredibly confused as to why you were readily complying. What truly got to you was how tender it felt—had you been so oblivious to his vying interest? You had just assumed he was a rare good-natured lender; though, you suppose neither of these had been true.

John Price was not a good man; although it was a recent revelation in the grand scheme of things, you knew this as a fact now. The other fact of the matter was that it seemed you were most likely the real collateral in the vulturine deal. Had he been playing the long game?

You could hear John floating around in the other room as you pulled an old shirt over your head to sleep in—the kitchen faucet running as you slipped into your bed. It all felt so wrong. 

Your eyes shot open when the bedroom’s aged floor creaked, deer-like paralysis keeping you snapshot-still as the ring of his belt buckle filled the static air. Was he—The rickety bed dipped behind you under John’s added weight, bedframe crying out with every shift of his body that came with tucking himself against you; achy grunts blowing out from his lips.

“Not as limber as I used to be.” he laughed modestly. “Still gets the job done though, I reckon.” 

He breathed for a moment before his nose dipped into the hair at your nape, sniffling around. 

“-Better than I imagined.” he grumbled contently.

Thick hands dipped under your shirt, massaging at the skin momentarily before slipping into your panties, tugging them out of the way. 

“Mr. Price.” you winced, feeling his cold hand on the sensitive skin.

his hands paused as the large man thought for a moment.

“Mrs. Price…” he chuckled after a beat, the hairs on your neck standing up in response. “-See? You don’t like it much, either. Now, what’s my name, love?”

“John.” you mumbled quietly, eyes darting around through the dark of your room.

“Mmh. good girl.” he hummed, hand cupping your cunt and thumbing at it absentmindedly. “Sleep, love. Big day tomorrow, yeah?”