#Air Conduction Sound

[crazydiscostu]

Soundpeats Runfree Open Ear Headphones

The IPX4 coating gives me the impression that these headphones could take some significant punishment between sweat and weather abuse.

Today we’re going to delve into the key features, design, comfort, battery life, and sound quality of the Soundpeats RunFree Open Ear Headphones, showcasing why they’re a valuable addition to your active lifestyle. Product supplied for review purposes The Soundpeats RunFree Open Ear Headphones have achieved the prestigious Red Dot Design Award, an accolade that recognizes exceptional design…

[flowersforbucky]

delirium

bucky barnes x reader (sex pollen trope)

summary: stranded in the middle of the alaskan wilderness with no means of communication after being exposed to a foreign drug, you're reluctant to accept help from the one person who has a shot at saving you.

warnings/tags: sex pollen, dub con, unprotected sex, oral, masturbation, angst, descriptions of physical pain, language, friends to lovers, avenger!reader, no use of y/n, reader is afab, 18+ only

word count: 4.1k

flashbacks are in italics

Sometime in the near future, there would be a case study conducted on how long a human being could burn from the inside without dying.

They would refer to you as exhibit a.

Doctors and scientists would lay your cold corpse on a colder table and use a scalpel to cut you from your thorax to your belly button. They would scribble notes about how your lungs had turned to ash and your esophagus to molten lava.

They wouldn't say it, but they would think it's a shame, because your driver's license states that you were an organ donor.

A harsh gust of wind snaps you out of the twisted fantasy and back to your reality - standing barefoot on the rickety front porch steps of a small cabin in Sitka, Alaska. You've only been outside for a few minutes but the snow is pouring down at a brutal pace, already covering the tops of your exposed feet.

The razor sharp chill of the ground below you and the air that surrounds you are the only things tethering you to what little remains of your sanity.

You never thought that you would be so thankful for your feet to be going numb, but after feeling like every fiber of your being is getting melted with a hot branding iron for - what? Ten? Twelve hours now? You had to resist the temptation to submerge your entire body in the multiple feet of snow that had accumulated since nightfall.

You hear the front door of the cabin creak open from behind you. You don't have to turn around to know that he's standing in the doorway with the same look of pleading desperation that he's been giving you since the two of you had realized what was happening.

“You need to come back inside,” he says delicately. His voice is muffled by the roar of the snowstorm, but right now with heightened senses, you hear him just fine. “You're going to get hypothermia.”

You don't respond. The mere sound of his voice makes you grit your teeth together so hard that you're surprised the tiny bones don't shatter.

He keeps to the doorway, scared that if he takes one step closer, you'll flee into the miles of thick woods that surrounds you in only a pair of old sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. He murmurs your name in a tone that begs you to come in from the below freezing temperatures.

“What time is it now?” You barely recognize your own voice - low and strained, it sounds like you haven't had anything to drink in days.

You clear your throat, though you doubt it'll make any difference.

“Just after four o'clock.”

Eleven hours into this hell, then. Best case scenario, another half a day of this. Worst case scenario, close to two.

Either way, you knew that these symptoms had yet to hit their peak. This would undoubtedly get worse before it gets better.

You stare out into the endless thicket of snow covered hemlocks and spruces. The illumination from the full moon makes the white powder on the branches glisten in the darkness.

Daylight was still hours away, and with it, hope for some means of communication with the rest of your team back in New York. The snowstorm had brought a widespread power outage across the city. Cell phone signal was nonexistent right now.

“Go on back to your room,” you tell him. “I'll come back inside in just a moment.” You continue to watch the blizzard before you, knowing that he's still just a few feet away from you. “I promise,” you add, hoping that he’ll believe you and return to the bedroom you'd been forcing him to keep to.

The drug coursing through your veins had amplified every one of your five senses. Even with him behind the closed door of the bedroom, you could still smell faint traces of the earthy musk of his deodorant and something warm that is uniquely him.

You wouldn't chance coming back into the house until his scent has dissipated from the entrance - not unless you want to feel as though all air is being stripped from your lungs.

Even simply standing here, with him behind you and the wind blowing his scent in the opposite direction, is nearly intolerable.

You hear footsteps retreat into the house, growing quieter and quieter as he makes his way back down the hallway, until you finally hear the click of his bedroom door. You exhale a breath that you weren't aware you had been holding in.

You have no doubt that he'll try to drag you back inside by the ankles if he has to, so you make good on your promise and return to the sweltering interior of the six hundred square foot log cabin.

A sharp, stabbing pain radiates from the center of your body at that thought - the exact kind of thoughts you were actively trying to avoid having. Thoughts of his hands digging into your thighs, his wet mouth on your throat, his bare chest pressed against yours as he fucks you into the likely thirty-something year old couch - those thoughts. Dangerous territory thoughts - the kind you didn't trust yourself not to act on if dwelled upon for too long.

Apparently, the thought of him putting his hands around your ankles and dragging you kicking and screaming falls into that category.

You settle onto the couch, pulling your knees up to your chest in an effort to alleviate the ache in your lower belly. You notice that Bucky has crammed more wood into the fireplace, which currently serves as the main source of light for the cabin, save for a few candles that have been placed sporadically throughout the small space.

Sweat begins to bead across your skin within seconds of sitting down in front of the fire. You know that Bucky is just trying to keep the temperature of the house from dropping below zero while also providing enough light to see during the middle of the night while you are in too much discomfort to sleep, but you feel like you are locked in a sauna after running five miles.

You think back to all of the times that you've given Sam shit for taking ice baths after his workouts. Now nothing sounds better than an ice bath.

Almost nothing, anyway. The only thing that could possibly feel even better is laying down behind a closed door less than twenty feet away.

And he'd offered - begged, actually, to take this pain away from you.

“Please,” he whispers, kneeling on the ground next to the couch, where you sit hunched over in pain. He's so close to you and it's fucking suffocating. He places his hand on your knee and you have to dig your nails into the suede upholstery to keep from whimpering. He notices the reaction and retracts his touch.

“Sweetheart, look at me,” he says louder, the pet name finally getting you to meet his gaze for the first time since you dropped the glass jar of the firetruck red powder in the former HYDRA warehouse two hours ago.

Big mistake. Looking at him is a big fucking mistake. From the way his blue eyes bore into yours with sincere concern to the way that his plump, pink lips are slightly chapped from the cold weather -

“No,” you say firmly, shaking your head into your hands. “I can't ask that of you. I can't make you do that. I would never forgive my–”

“You wouldn't be asking or making me do anything,” he tries to reason with you. There's sincerity in his voice but you're too delirius to hear the truth of his words. “I'm offering. Because I care about you. Because I don't want to see you in any kind of pain if there's anything I can do about it. Because I think you'd do the same for me if the situation were–”

“Bucky,” you cut him off in a strained gasp. “Your voice is making this so much worse right now.”

“Then let me help you. Let me make you feel good.”

His words alone are enough to have you clenching your thighs around nothing but the thick material of your sweatpants. You can feel your cotton panties becoming more drenched with each word he speaks.

“Not like this.” You're on the verge of tears - from pain, from anger at the entire situation, from how goddamn badly you need to feel him inside you. “It can't happen like this. I never wanted it to happen like this.”

His features soften, a look of understanding spreading across his face.

“When we fuck, I want it to be because we want to fuck,” you say as you jump up from your position on the couch, desperately needing to distance yourself from him before you do something you can't take back. “I don't want it to be because we feel like neither of us have a choice in the matter.”

“But we do have a choice,” he murmurs from where he's still kneeling on the floor next to the couch. “And I'd choose to go back to that HYDRA facility and infect myself with this shit, too, if it means you'd feel a little less guilty about saying yes.”

Your answer to that was, of course, a big, giant absolutely fucking not. The snow started pouring down shortly after, making his irrational proclamation an impossibility, anyway.

Almost half a day later, here you are. Surrounded by miles and miles of snow and ice in a town with no power or semi-functioning cell phone towers, just trying to endure the fire coursing through your veins until the effects of the HYDRA made drug have worked through your system.

You're coming up on the twelve hour mark now, and there's no denying that you're desperate for relief in one way or another.

Worth a fucking shot, you think.

You prop your feet up on the glass coffee table in front where you sit on the couch, spreading your thighs apart by a few inches.

You hesitate for a moment, listening for any kind of indication that Bucky's no longer in the confines of the cabin’s singular bedroom.

Dead silent, except for the crackling of the wood burning in the fireplace.

You snake your hand down the front of your pants, past the waistband of your underwear and to your center that's been aching for hours now.

You stroke your fingers up and down your folds, stopping at the apex of your core to massage your clit in circular motions.

Your head rolls back on the couch at the sensation, immediately feeling the slightest sense of relief. You dig your teeth into your lower lip to keep from moaning - hard enough to draw blood, the taste of iron flooding your mouth.

You slip two fingers past your entrance, not requiring any foreplay to plunge them to the hilt. It feels good - the way you're working yourself with rapid scissoring motions. Really fucking good, actually. Better than fingering yourself has ever felt.

But only a mere minute into the ministrations, you fear that it won't be enough to satiate you in the way that the drug requires.

Still, you try. You yank your t-shirt above your tits, bringing your free hand to paw at your breast as you continue working your pussy with your fingers, the heel of your palm putting pressure against your clit.

“That's not going to work, you know.”

You yank your hand out of your pants, snapping your head to the side to see him leaning against the frame of the small hallway. You had been so immersed in attempting to find some amount of relief that you hadn't heard him exit the bedroom. He's looking at you with sympathy and concern, not judgment - you don't think you'd be able to find it within yourself to feel embarrassed even if he were. Not in your current state of discomfort.

“How do you know that?” Frustration is evident in your voice. You look away from him, back to the fire in front of you as you pull your shirt back down. The floor creaks as he steps out of the hallway and makes his way over to the opposite end of the small couch. He sits a foot away from you, close enough so that his scent and warmth invades your senses, sending a fresh wave of arousal to your core.

“Because I've been through what you're going through right now.”

Your eyes break away from the ember that you've been staring at, your gaze snapping to him. You don't know why this comes as a surprise to you. It shouldn't, not with every other form of torment that HYDRA had inflicted upon him for over half a century.

“Why didn't you tell me?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I was embarrassed,” he answers with a small half-shrug, breaking your stare. “I didn't.. handle it as well as you are,” he continues, shame in his voice and cheeks rosy. “You’re doing everything you can to fight something that you didn't ask for. That's more than I can say for myself.”

“You were brainwashed, Bucky,” you remind him delicately. It's a risky move that makes your skin burn and belly clench, but you scoot closer to him on the couch - your outermost thigh brushing against his knee. If the two of you weren't both wearing sweatpants, the minimal touch might even aid in bringing you some relief. Instead, you’re left feeling desperate for more of him.

But you push the feeling down, wanting to do what little you can to comfort him - wanting him to know that you don't think poorly of him for what was forced onto him, and what is now being forced onto you, too.

“I would never judge you for anything they made you do,” you assure him.

“I know you wouldn't,” he murmurs, turning to face you again. His blue eyes glow in the low lighting of the fire. The closeness between the two of you is dizzying, and electrifying, and -

“And I want you to know that I would never judge you for giving into this torture,” he adds.

You snort a laugh. “I'm starting to think you want me to give into this.” You mean for the statement to sound light-hearted, but a sharp pang in your gut makes you wince in pain and your voice goes shrill. You clutch your lower belly, hunching over at the pain.

He leans in closer, putting one hand on your lower back and one on your thigh. You whimper at the pressure of his fingers against your spine and inner thigh. Even through your clothes, the contact feels like heaven compared to hell you've been enduring for the last twelve hours.

You lean into his touch - you don't even think about it, you just do it. You rest your head in the crook of his neck, your forehead nuzzling the warm skin of his throat.

You take a deep inhale, attempting to steady your breathing, and you realize quickly that is a mistake - his scent is so euphoric, it feels like inhaling flames.

“Would it make it easier for you if I said that I do want you to give in?” His voice is low, his breath fanning across your face from his position above you.

“Fuck, Bucky, you can't say that to me right now,” you whine. You fist your hands into the fabric of his t-shirt, your eyes squint shut.

“Look at me,” he commands. You force your eyes open, pulling your head back enough to look up at him through your eyelashes.

“I want it to be your choice.” He brings a hand up to cup your jawline. His thumb skims the outline of your bottom lip. “But I would be lying if I said that I'm not relieved that I'm the one here with you, or that I wouldn't enjoy every second of helping you feel better.”

He brings his hands to yours, pulling them away from where they still clutch his shirt. You release your grip, allowing him to hold you by your wrists. He pulls your right hand up to his face, stopping just under his nose. Your brows furrow in confusion, until it dawns on you what it is he's doing.

He inhales deeply, then lowers your hand to his parted mouth. He slips the tips of your index and middle fingers past his lips, and then swirls his tongue around the two digits.

The exact two that had been inside your pussy not even five minutes ago.

Right now, you think you could come from him sucking on your fingers and nothing else.

You don't even try to stop the groan that slips past your lips as you shove your fingers deeper into his mouth. He moans around them as he finishes cleaning them off, the sound sending vibrations up your arm and throughout your body.

You pull your fingers from between his lips and immediately crush your own lips to his in their place. You feel the drug surging through your veins, but this time it's less excruciating - it now feels like pure adrenaline bubbling under your skin, spurring you on.

He opens his mouth to you, your lips and tongue moving with his in synchronicity. It's hurried and messy, and maybe not as romantic as you had imagined it in your head before this night - but it's exactly what you need right now.

He maneuvers you so that you're laying down on the couch, and nestles himself between your thighs. You can feel the hard outline of his erection through the thin material of his sweatpants. He ruts against you, dragging the bulge across your clothed center as he yanks your t-shirt up and over your head. He tosses it somewhere behind the couch before attaching his mouth to one of your nipples and palming the other with the cool metal of his left hand.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling the full weight of his body down against you. You stick your hands up the back of his t-shirt, scratching your nails down the skin of his back.

“I need more,” you gasp out as he pinches your nipple between his teeth, rolling it in his lips. The clothing that separates the two of you feels like a prison. “I need to feel you.”

He pulls away, leaning back to perch on his knees between your legs. Your eyes roam down the chiseled planes of his chest until they land on the defined “V” shape that disappears into the waistband of his low-hanging pants.

He hooks his fingers into your sweatpants and underwear and tugging them both down past your ankles, then throwing them somewhere across the room with both of your long-forgotten shirts.

His eyes trail your body from your breasts to your thighs, his pupils dilating in the firelight. He splays his hands across the meat of your inner thighs, pinning your legs open wide for him. He lowers himself back down on the couch, belly down so his face hovers just above your pussy.

“Bucky, I swear if you don't put your mouth–”

He laughs, a deep, throaty chuckle before his tongue slips between his lips. It darts to your hole, licking a soft strip up to your clit. You exhale a sharp hiss of pleasure, your hands shooting to lace your fingers through tendrils of his hair. You arch into his touch, meeting the thrusts of his tongue with thrusts of your hips. He eats like you're the best thing he's ever tasted - like he's wanted this for way longer than this drug has been in your system.

You're coming on his face in an embarrassing amount of time, really. Thanks to the influence of the pollen, you currently have the stamina and endurance of a teenager losing their virginity. Your thighs are clenched around either side of his head, writhing above him as you ride out your orgasm on his face.

The relief that you feel as you come down from your high feels like years of pent up frustration leaving your body all at once.

You don't quite feel entirely like yourself - there's still a dull ache in your core, and your skin’s still feverish - though that could be due to the fire that the two of you are just feet away from. But you're now able to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

“Come here,” you whisper, your voice low and honeyed. He crawls over you, his chest brushing against yours as he centers himself above you. His skin shines with a thin layer of sweat that mingles with your own. You reach a hand between your two bodies, palming his erection through the sweatpants that he has yet to shed. You keep your eyes locked on his face, watching as his eyes roll back into his head and his teeth clamp down on his bottom lip as you massage him through the fabric. Your other hand juts down to the waistband of his pants and you tug them downwards, far enough to help him shimmy them down to his knees.

His cock springs forward and he takes himself in his flesh hand, pumping his length several times before teasing your folds with his tip. He collects your slick along his length, lubricating himself before nudging his head just past your entrance.

You're more than ready for him - hours of desperation in addition to already having come on his face leaves you needing no further preparation before he's filling you up with his impressive length and girth. There's a slight burn at the sheer fullness of it, but there's also a wave of relief that your body has been craving for hours.

He pulls out halfway, then rocks back into you. He starts slow - trying to hold back for his own sake or for yours, you're unsure. Gradually, he increases his speed, hitting your cervix at that sweet angle that not everyone knows how to work. You lean forward, raising your head enough to capture his lips in yours once more.

You taste yourself on him - a dichotomy of sweet and salty mixed with something entirely unique. He brings his flesh hand in between your bodies, lowering his fingers to your clit where he begins rubbing pressured circles. You moan his name into his mouth and he responds by biting your lip between his teeth, his movements becoming messier.

“You gonna come on my cock?” he asks in a low growl when he feels your pussy clenching around him. “Gonna fill you up and make you feel all better.”

His words send you tumbling over the edge for the second time - that telltale warm coil in your belly bursting at the same time that he begins spilling his warmth into you.

He collapses, pinning you between his body and the couch beneath you. Starting at your shoulder, he peppers kisses along your collarbones and up your neck until he’s finally eye-level with you.

“We can do that again,” he says in a breathy voice, still inside you. “If you need to, that is. Or if you just want you.” There's a mischievous grin spread across his face and a twinkle in his eyes. It's the most carefree you've seen him since the two of you left New York to come here for this mission. You put your hands on his chest, jokingly attempting to shove him away from you.

“Oh, I don't think I need to,” you jab at him. “I'm feeling pretty great now, but thank you for your services.” He laughs, pulling out of you and sitting back against the couch. He pulls you up with him, wrapping his flesh arm around your waist and tucking you into his side. “But I think I might want to again. You know, now that I'm no longer in excruciating pain.” He hums in agreement, stroking his flesh fingers across the side of your stomach.

“I'm glad you were the one here with me too, Bucky."

thank you for reading! i know sooo many people have done this trope, especially for bucky, but it's truly one of my all time favorites and i just needed to get this out of my system so i hope you all enjoyed

comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!

other works by me: oil & water • down bad • acquainted •

[augustinewrites]

a/n: bcs childe would absolutely benefit from dating a lawyer (also a repost from one of my other accs!)

“finally!” childe exclaims, fist-pumping the air as he hops to his feet. “i was starting to think you’d all forgotten about me.”

tartaglia aka the eleventh harbinger aka childe had been the subject of multiple meetings you’d attended in the last few days. with him finally in custody, immunity void, everyone wanted their pound of flesh.

you roll your eyes, nodding your head for the guards to open the cell. “you’ve only been in holding for three hours.”

“three very long, very boring hours.” he briefly stretches his arms above his head, rocking on the balls of his feet as he blinks down at you. “so i take it you’re my lawyer?”

“that's correct,” you confirm, telling him your name and stepping back as the guard cuffs his hands, shoving him forward as his partner leads the two of you down the hall. you pretend not to notice as the harbinger studies the manacles, smirking as if he’s already figured a way out of them.

normally, you preferred to stay as far away as possible from the fatui— especially one as dangerous as a harbinger. as the liyue qixing’s main legal advisor, you’d already had a handful of run-ins with the snezhnayan “diplomats,” as they called themselves. while pantalone hadn’t been as cutthroat as childe in the literal sense, his wit and business savvy were just as fearsome.

yet here you were, actually representing a harbinger in court. a major conflict of interest, yes, concerning your current affiliation, but with the harbor temporarily closed for travel and public defenders up to their knees in (fatui) clients, they’d had no choice but to have you take him on as a temporary client.

a gesture of goodwill, lady ningguang had called it. so her majesty knows we gave him a fighting chance in court. our best for her best.

so yes, there was that, and there was the fact that no one else wanted to represent him.

you’re led into the interrogation room, childe moving to pull your chair out for you. “c’mon,” he urges when you hesitate, setting your bag on the table. “i may be a criminal, but my mother taught me my manners.”

you pull out the chair next to it, sitting down and leveling him with a stern look. “pulling out a chair does not cancel out the multiple felonies you’re about to be charged with.”

“please,” he laughs, taking a seat himself when you opt to drag another chair to the table. “you’re giving me way too much credit, babe. i only committed maybe one or two.”

—

“gross negligence, disorderly conduct, destruction of property–”

childe clears his throat loudly, ignoring the glare you send his way. the one that says i told you so.“technically it was lady ningguang that threw the jade chamber at osial, not me. i wasn’t even there.”

the butt of xiao's weapon hitting the floor makes a terrifying sound. that's all it takes to silence the harbinger as ganyu turns the page.

“–desecration, assault, and attempted murder. these are the charges that can be brought against your client by the liyue qixing and the liyue adepti.”

childe pushes out of his seat, slamming his palms onto the table. “attempted murder?”

“please sit down,” you urge, but your attempt to placate him is unsuccessful as he shakes off your hand. “you haven’t been found guilty yet–”

“that makes me sound weak. i got way farther than just an attempt!” he exclaims, ignoring you completely.

“archons, help me,” you mutter, averting your gaze to the heavens for strength. “ganyu,” you interrupt before your client can further incriminate himself, yanking his arm until he sits back down. “could i please have a moment alone with my client?”

“i will give you one minute,” she agrees, but while she turns to leave, xiao remains stubbornly rooted in place.

you smile sweetly at the adeptus. “xiao, if you hear me scream, you can come in here and do whatever you want to him.”

the adeptus chuckles at that (albeit very slightly) as he flashes out of the room, and childe makes an offended noise. "hey, aren’t you my lawyer? you’re supposed to be protecting me!”

your sweet smile immediately drops from your face. “i'm only here because of your right to an attorney, and because almost all of liyue harbor’s public defenders are busy representing your subordinates. ganyu only agreed to meet with us before your arraignment because she owes me a favour, so be nice.”

“well, you’re all wasting your time,” childe shrugs, alarmingly calm for someone in his position. “because i’m a snezhnayan diplomat. i have rights!”

“do you?”

“uh…i think i have rights?”

“you had rights,” you correct sharply. "you forfeited diplomatic immunity the second you decided to commit multiple, very serious criminal offences. so shut up and stop incriminating yourself further so i can do my job.”

“and you could argue that i was just doing mine,” he quips, drumming his fingers against the tabletop. “hey, how long do you think it’d take me to break out of a prison here? ‘cause i’m thinking a week at most.”

cocky bastard.

rubbing your temples, you make a mental note to never agree to represent a fatui harbinger again, even if the pay is as good as it is. “are you really looking to add felony escape to your rap sheet?”

he winks, and you question all your life decisions. “it's only felony escape if i get caught.”

“you will get caught,” you deadpan. “do you seriously think that xiao or the other adepti will let you live if they see you in anyplace but a jail cell?”

“so what? i can fight.”

they might as well convict him now.

you send him one last warning glare as ganyu and xiao return, the latter looking more disgruntled than usual as ganyu says,

“the charges against you have been dropped.”

both you and your client are silent for a moment, because—

“what?”

“holy shit,” childe exhales, nudging your shoulder with his. “you're pretty good.”

you are good, yes, but not this good. “ganyu—”

she holds up a hand. “mr. zhongli sends his regards. you'll be compensated at double your current rate for your time.”

that shuts you up, and the room falls silent at the consultant’s name.

(you wonder if childe knows. it was his purpose, wasn’t it? to draw rex lapis out and steal the gnosis.)

the awkward silence is broken when xiao clears his throat. “while it’s been maintained that the charges be dropped, the qixing and adepti agree that community service and a hefty fine shall suffice in place of a conviction.”

“sounds fair to me,” you agree, because there’s really no better deal than this. you take the contract that the adepti hand you, giving it a quick read before sliding it over to your client. “mr. tartaglia?”

childe simply hands his cuffs to a stunned guard next to him, grinning as he takes the quill from your hand. “where do i sign?”

__________

the relatively peaceful stroll back to your condo is interrupted by the sound of quick footfalls behind you. you don’t have to turn around to know it’s childe, here to make your night even harder.

“don’t you have a community to serve?”

childe bounds up next to you, an annoyingly pretty smile curling on his lips. "can’t i start with taking a pretty lawyer to dinner?”

you hope the heat you feel creeping up your neck stays hidden by your shirt collar. “it’s two in the morning.”

he grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "ah, right. how about a drink then? i know the owner at third-round knockout.”

your pace slows as you glance toward chihu rock. the idea of going home to have a nice, long soak in the tub tugged at you, but you could use a strong glass of, well, anything after this absolute shitshow of a week.

“alright, fine,” you agree tiredly (partly because he doesn’t seem like the type to take ‘no’ as an answer). “just one drink, tartaglia, and only if you’re paying.”

_____

childe liked to watch people.

not in that way, mind you. bold and battle-hungry as he may be at times, he had always preferred silence, and by proxy, silent observation. he was never one for the long-game, but sometimes sitting back to watch and listen to those around him simply proved more beneficial. it was fun to see how people reacted to certain things, especially if the catalyst was an event he’d manipulated.

his people-watching made him an expert at reading between the lines to discern one’s true nature. he tries to apply it here, sitting with you. he doesn’t sense anything particularly hostile (other than your understandable passive aggressiveness), but your silence is heavy with distrust, and the slight the crease between your brows is marring your pretty face.

you’re hiding something. or maybe you think you are.

“stop staring at me,” you mutter without so much as a glance in his direction, the corners of your lips downturned as you sip from your glass.

undeterred, childe leans in, amused when you immediately lean away. clearly you have a good sense of self-preservation. “i’m not staring. i’m…gazing.”

“well, stop,” you warn. “it's creepy.”

a grin curls on his lips. “you like it.”

the noncommittal noise you make isn’t a ‘no,’ so childe decides to take that as a win.

“so…” he starts slowly, a finger tracing the rim of his glass. you’ve had three glasses of liquor by now, definitely not enough to warm you up to him, but hopefully enough that you’ll accidentally tell him what he wants to know in an effort to prove him wrong. “how do you know mr. zhongli?”

instead of answering, you immediately pivot with, “how do you know mr. zhongli?”

“work,” he replies with a click of his tongue. “how does a lawyer become acquainted with a funeral parlour consultant?”

“how does a harbinger become acquainted with one?”

the smartass answer would simply be to gesture to himself. death was his business, his trade, his currency— just like a funeral consultant's.

but he has a feeling the smartass answer won’t earn him more than a smack upside the head so instead he settles for, “like i said, work.”

whatever you mutter under your breath is accompanied by a roll of your eyes, so childe guesses it’s an insult. he scoots his seat closer to yours anyway. “you're from around here. what do you know about him?”

“that depends,” you shrug, swirling the amber liquid around in your glass. “i can’t tell you what i know unless you tell me what you know.”

“and i can’t tell you what i know unless you tell me what it is you know."

"hm. then i guess neither of us will know what the other knows.”

childe knows that you know (he doesn’t really, but he has a very strong feeling that you do). he doesn’t even really care if you’ll admit it or not. he just wants to find your line and see what it’ll take to get you to cross it.

which brings him to his next endeavor.

“anyway, are you single? if you are, then great! If you aren’t, i can definitely take ‘em.”

he’s not sure why you choke on your drink like you’re shocked.

“seriously, childe?” you ask, shaking your head slightly.

“why not?” he shrugs, gesturing to his mussed-up hair and scuffed clothes. “are you really saying you wouldn’t take a run at all this, given the chance?”

if looks could kill, you’d definitely be the one being charged with attempted murder. “i wouldn’t even take a walk at it."

something stirs in his frostbitten heart because, archons, you’re mean.

he’s so into it.

“i’ll grow on you eventually,” he assures you, surely almost losing a few fingers as he plays with a strand of your hair. “especially if you come work for me. i’ll double whatever the liyue qixing’s paying.”

he’d get pantalone to sign off on it somehow.

you wrinkle your nose with distaste. “work for the fatui?”

“no, no. you’ll have your hands full with just me. i commit so many felonies that you won’t have to take on another client ever,” he corrects, leaning in until his lips brush your ear. “and honestly? i don’t like to share.”

“not interested,” you say, and he laughs when you shove him away, downing the rest of your drink. “i’ll meet you tomorrow morning to get your community service hours sorted. goodnight, childe.”

all right, you're playing hard to get, childe thinks to himself as he turns back to his drink. but that's okay. the only thing more satisfying to him than catching his prey is the thrill of a good chase.

if you notice him flinch slightly when you pat this hand, you don’t notice, rising from your stool to leave. you can’t leave yet! he hasn’t weakened your defences with his wily charms and roguish good looks. “hey, wait—”

it's embarrassing how long it’d taken him to realize his hand had been stuck to the bar.

frozen to the bar, to be specific. it's even more embarrassing that he hadn’t noticed the cryo vision sitting just above the curve of your ass.

he stares at the ice cocooning his hand in genuine shock and awe. It’s crystal clear, free of any cloudy impurities. he’s from snezhnaya, he knows his ice. “this is— this is hard to do. you’re really good.”

he wonders, briefly, if you’re any good with a blade. he pictures it (fantasizes, actually), but quickly snuffs out the vision because he’s starting to get a little turned on.

but super hot, slightly homicidal guys must not be your type, judging from the way you brush off his compliment and turn on your heel, leaving him with a two-fingered salute.

“see you tomorrow, harbinger.”

he may not be your type right now, but, yeah, he’s definitely gonna change that.

a/n: if you found this on ao3 then congrats! you found my ao3. also if you made it to the end!! pls tell me what u think childe would do for community service in liyue LOL i would love to discuss

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Quid Pro Quo | Michael Gavey x fem!reader

Summary: After being ditched by her friend at the Trinity College Christmas Party, she finds herself enthralled with learning the language of Michael Gavey | Word Count: 3.8k~ | Warnings below the cut!

Part Two: Carpe Diem Part Three: Veni, Vidi, Vici

warnings: virgin michael, semi-public sexual conduct, oral sex (m receiving), heavy petting

If she has to listen to Professor Wardon swoon over Ancient Greek and how it ‘drove him to pursue his dreams in extending his passion to other students’, she thinks she might actually fall asleep.

She's in a good spot to do so, nestled between two other students, the one on her right seemingly just as bored as her, and conveniently hidden behind a tall, lanky first year, who sits straight, with his head perfectly obscuring hers as he fixes his posture regularly.

Several times throughout, she's checked her watch, and yet the second hand never seems to move an inch.

Professor Wardon is just about to go on a lovesick spiel about Homeric Greek when the lecture concludes with a heaved sigh from every student as they sling their hefty bags over their shoulders.

“Remember I want 2,500 words on Les Liaisons dangereuses in my pigeon hole by next Thursday, before your Christmas parties!” 

“Oh joy,” she sighs with a grin to the girl walking shoulder to shoulder beside her as they leave, feeling noticeably lighter knowing that that's their last lecture before Christmas break.

“Christ, you're telling me. I can't be arsed to even right my own name at the moment, nevermind read 18th century fucking French.”

She gives a snort in reply, “Merry Christmas to us, eh? Should do what the French do and have a revolution or something.”

“Yeah, eat our lecturers or something.”

“Alright, I wouldn't go that far.”

“Anyway, I'm off to T Library, see ya, have a good Christmas and don't do anything I wouldn't!”

She waves her off as her friend disappears, the cold air of the outside nipping at her skin that manages to sneak beneath her coat.

Oxford University is not what she imagined at all. She came here very much feeling like an outsider, like there'd been some sort of paperwork mistake and it was supposed to be someone else in her place. 

The imposter syndrome seemed difficult to shift, but she'd at least managed to make a couple of friends since starting in September.

Languages had always found her well, and seemingly the only thing she managed to actually understand. People were inconsistent, cruel and fickle. Languages, though they shifted and changed, were firmly rooted in reason and understanding. 

As sad as it sounded, conjugating verbs, vowel shifts and rare dialects were the one thing she found herself itching to discover more about. The idea that there was more to uncover seemed exciting and scary at the same time.

And Oxford University was the best place she could be to do that.

All that said, her eagerness to get involved with her studies had left her social life with much to be desired.

In the first two weeks of university alone, she'd gained one friend and lost a boyfriend. And while they were drifting apart anyway, it was still a relatively large blow to her self-esteem and her confidence to actually get out there, socialise and make the most of her first year of freedom.

The only friends she'd made were those on her course. Priya, who'd just abandoned her to stick her nose in books about the Great Vowel Shift, and Anya, who…to be honest, rarely left her room. Seeming more like a ghost than anything else.

It was a wonder she was still a student, with how often she missed classes.

What Anya does do best, is manage to somehow rise out of her pit to drag her to Christmas parties that aren't even run by their college.

Which is why she finds herself somehow at Trinity College campus, where she eyes several scantily clad women wearing revealing Santa costumes adorned with itchy tinsel.

Anya is the sort of girl who, well, every girl kind of wants to be. So much so she sort of wonders why she hangs around with her. She's pretty, fit and fucking clever. Her only downfall is her taste in men, so often being Oxford pretty boys.

So it is absolutely no surprise at all, when two jägerbombs in, Anya has somehow slipped into the arms of one aforementioned Oxford pretty boy, seeming in every way a clone of the previous, with the exception of the way he pairs his Ayia Nappa top with his low rise jeans and the only effort to conform to  theme, is a pair of plastic reindeer antlers on his head bobbling side to side.

She grimaces as she watches them suck each other's faces off in a dark corner of the room, ‘Stay Another Day’ by East 17 blaring with a cheap crackle through the speakers as she makes her way through the bodies to somewhere quiet.

She sighs, nursing the rum and coke Anya had sloppily poured her in one hand as she closes the door behind her, shutting out the drunken squeals and cheers for the peace of a quiet common room.

It's still decorated, she notes, but empty. Maybe she could lurk here until Anya is done, if she ever will be.

The deep clack of a pool ball being sucked into a socket makes her jump, realising perhaps that she was not actually alone, as she'd previously thought.

The cool light hung above the battered pool table illuminates his deep red jumper, and the first thing she sees is the way he leans on one leg, standing straight as if he was imitating the rigid pool cue leant before him. The yellow lined detailing around the cuffs highlights his small wrists and big hands that stretch from it as he rubs blue chalk onto the tip.

Her eyes trail up the back of his neck, past the lazy waves of dark blonde hair, clearly due a trim at some point, and to his face, even from this angle able to see how his features sit. With a sharp nose and jawline, and black skinny glasses perched above his cheekbones.

She almost laughs at the way he's almost as tall as the light that illuminates the table, half-thinking that she might never have seen such a strange and yet interesting looking guy.

“Didn't fancy the party?” she finally says, alerting him to her presence.

She doesn't quite expect the way the light bounces off his sharp features, sinking his blue eyes in shadow as his head turns to her with an expression of boredom.

“Not particularly, no.” 

His voice is lighter than she thought it would be and part of her wonders if he's putting it on. He presses his glasses further up his nose before assessing his next shot, stalking around the table.

“Why's that?”

This time, when he answers, he doesn't look at her. He simply leans down, and aims.

“Not. Fucking. Invited,” he replies bitterly, missing a yellow, “that's why.”

Her fingertips moisten against the glass as the ice begins to melt, but she pays it no mind.

“So you're lurking about in here instead.”

He plays with the cue in one hand, barely sparing a second glance, a bitter, quiet laugh escaping him.

He misses another red before he heaves a sigh, straightening to look at her again.

“You here alone as well?” he asks dispassionately.

She smiles lazily and shrugs.

“My mate is…a bit preoccupied, if you know what I mean,” she replies, taking an awkward sip of the now watered down drink, “like you, I don't really think these are my thing either.”

He seems to consider her statement for a moment.

“Why come then?”

She shrugs again, “trying to be sociable.”

“With those vapid cunts? Good luck getting any intelligent conversation out of them.”

She watches as he picks up the blue chalk again, applying more when he doesn't even need it in sort of a nervous gesture, his blue eyes averted and pretending to assess his next move.

There's something about him. How judgemental he is and how he forms his words. Perhaps she hadn't expected this sort of guy to be so outwardly honest with his opinions, and for the most part, she can't say she disagrees with the message, just the way in which he said it.

“Can I play?” She asks, leaning over to put her drink down.

“What are you reading?” He asks so suddenly, and out of context, that she does a double take.

She raises her eyebrows, smiling, “Does my answer depend on if I get to play or not?”

There's no answer from him. Shocker of the century.

“Modern Languages.”

“Fucking hell,” he groans.

She's a bit too happy and dizzy on rum to get defensive.

“Is that one of those subjects that sounds way less interesting than it actually ends up being?”

She gives a breathy laugh, “just like languages.”

He hums, as if the answer didn't impress him, “more of a science and numbers man myself, obviously.”

For a moment, it's lost on her why it's obvious.

He takes a sip of his, no doubt, stale beer, wetting his lips after, “Your name is?”

She narrows her eyes teasingly, smiling as she leans against the table, “quid pro quo.”

She enjoys the brief confusion on his face, before he realises what she's said.

“Okay, okay, Michael.”

She smiles, “See? You know what that meant. Who says you're not a languages man?”

It's the first time he seems to duck his head, hiding a blush she's barely able to see.

“I don’t think the Ancient Roman idea of fair exchange warrants the title of ‘languages man’.” 

The blue chalk comes off on his hands as he fiddles nervously with it.

“So, am I bestowed the privilege of playing?”

He raises his head, and she can tell he's trying his damndest to not let a little beer-induced smile pass his lips.

“I suppose I could allow you to embarrass yourself in front of me for a bit, if you insist. We'll have to share a cue though.”

She doesn't have the heart to tell him her uncle was a pool player, and so by extension, has played pool for most of her upbringing. Rather, he finds out himself when she pots three yellows in a row.

It's either the alcohol or pity that kicks in when she misses the fourth, holding the cue for him to take.

“You being good at pool wasn't on my bingo card,” he mutters with some nervous teasing in his voice.

They go back and forth for a bit, missing some, potting some, with interspersed conversation between. 

“Thought you might have been a Norman-no -mates, like me,” he says quietly as he watches her assess her next shot. Bending to aim.

“You're not far off,” she replies, “first fortnight I was down a boyfriend. Since then, I've only been up two friends and one of them is in the other room  having ditched me for the shag of a lifetime.”

She doesn't see it until after she takes the shot, the way his eyes flit back to hers quickly as she rights herself to stand.

Was he checking me out?

As if he was lagging, he only laughs now at what she's said.

“What about you?” She asks, “no girls, or boys, on the scene?”

He blushes a lot when she asks that. And she can't help the fluttering in her chest she feels that someone might find her attractive.

“Can’t say there is.”

She stands close, passing the cue to him, electricity warming her fingertips as she grazes his.

“And why not?”

He scoffs bitterly, “have you seen me?” he mutters, wandering around the table, suddenly unable to shake the feeling of her gaze, “Not too many girls out there looking for the stereotypical nerdy math boy, really.”

“Hm,” she hums, “how unfortunate for them.”

He sinks a red, picking at his red jumper.

“Yeah, they're clearly missing out, huh?”

The bitter and self-deprecating tone of his voice makes her heart sink a bit. He's not a bad looking guy, she thinks. His style, glasses, hair, she would almost say look actually quite cute.

Maybe that's the thing he doesn't like.

“No interest? Or is maths the only one for you?”

He misses the next shot and sighs, holding the cue for her to take, “clearly, the only one I need.”

She steps close to retrieve, taking her time, looking up at him as she does. At this proximity, Michael sucks in a breath quietly, his lips, which she can't say she'd noticed until right this moment, parting and his Adam's apple bobbing as his eyes flit rapidly down her.

A warmth swirls in her gut at that.

She circles the table, “what about in the past?” 

He leans against the other side, his hand on the cushion, long fingers splayed on the green fabric. She has to shake her head to break her own trance.

“Can’t say my love life has exactly been a roaring success, honestly.”

The way he says it.

She wouldn't be surprised if he was…

Oh.

“So what? You're focussed on your studies?”

She misses. Too set on the conversation rather than the game.

He gives a mirthless laugh, “Sure.”

She rounds the table, holding the cue for him to take, but when he reaches for it, she pulls back with a smirk.

“So we've established you're not one for languages,” she starts, and Michael furrows his brows in confusion, “have you ever really asked for what you want? Ever?”

He seems to miss what she's trying to say.

“Have you been with a girl?”

At that, his eyes widen slightly, a blush crawling up his neck to the tips of his ears, cheeks near matching his shirt.

She knows she has her answer.

“Well…I…no, I haven't…”

At chest height, she can see the way his breathing elevates.

“And, hypothetically, if a girl expressed interest. What would you say?”

His lips part for a good few seconds before he gives a reply, “I’d…I um…I guess it depends who…”

It's like he's afraid she'll make fun of him for it. 

“What about, if it was me?” She asks, her voice lowering as she reaches out to pick some lint off his jumper, like it's the most normal thing in the world. His body goes all rigid as she does.

This isn't normal in his world.

Michael swallows thickly, “you're not taking the Mick out of me, are you?”

She shakes her head, “I just want you to feel comfortable asking for what you want.”

For someone who had so often thought about it, now when faced with the situation, he feels as if he doesn't know what to do or say.

She's still stood with the cue in one hand, close enough so that when she shifts her weight from foot to foot, her knee grazes his leg. It's interesting to watch him think so deeply about it. Convinced he's probably never thought of anything so much in his life.

“What if what I want is…you?”

The tension deepens like the tone and volume of his voice. And without effort, a smile finds its way to her face when she looks at his expression. He's frozen stiff, for once, not knowing what to say.

So nothing shocks her more when he grabs the pool cue as a means of pulling her to him, and he has to duck considerably to press his lips clumsily to hers. He's eager, that much is true, but it's clear he's inexperienced. But instead of causing discomfort, she thinks it's quite endearing.

The pool cue clangs to the floor as she braces her hands on his shoulders and chest, guiding his lips with her own in a slower, more careful movement. She feels the edge of the pool table bite into her lower back when he presses her against it, clearly excited, if the hardness that's flush to her stomach is anything to go by.

The hands she had been staring at not half an hour ago are bruising as they trace her waist and hips, with a grip tight enough to tell her exactly how much he's enjoying the experience.

For a moment, they're not in a common room alone, against a pool table, with ‘Cheetah-licious Christmas’ playing in the room over, the bass of which rumbles through the floor and into their chests.

The kiss lasts a long while, and she has a feeling he wants to savour it as if it's the last time he will ever be able to do it. 

One of her hands snakes its way to the back of his head, fingers gripping at his hair to pull him closer as either of them tilt to aid more contact between them. And at the little amount of tugging, Michael whines into her mouth, prompting him to pull away.

He looks halfway between mortified and pleased, his glasses having skewed to one side with the eagerness of what they'd done. And she laughs a bit, reaching up to fix them, which seems to make the mortification fade somewhat from his face.

Michael looks down between them, where his obvious erection is pressed to her, and pulls away slightly with a scarlet blush.

“Shit - sorry-”

“It's fine,” she reassures, “no need to be embarrassed.”

The words alone would be enough, if her hand hadn't snaked between their bodies to brush her palm over him. And if it were possible, his flush spreads to his neck, words failing him once more.

Her eyes flicker up to his, their lips all kiss-bruised and swollen.

“If you don't want to-”

“No, no, I want to…” he says, immediately embarrassed about how quick it was.

She smiles, one hand palming him through his jeans and the other trailing up his chest, “Sit down.”

He backs up to sit on a nearby sofa, watching with a kind of adoration as she makes space between his legs, her eyes glimmering at him as she slowly undoes his belt.

“If at any time, you need to stop, tell me.”

He gives a nervous laugh, his stomach muscles tightening, wondering probably if this is really happening to him, “Not sure I will want to…”

She smiles reassuringly, watching as his lips part as she palms him through his boxers, trying to suppress how impressed she is with his size.

It's always the skinny white guys.

“Well, the offer's there.” She smirks, pulling him from his boxers, Michael gives a suffered breath, feeling her touch on him and also her breath so close. He almost feels dizzy. The thought of this happening in this situation, with a party going on next door, is dangerous and exciting in equal measure.

She knows he has very limited experience, so decides not to tease him too much.

Michael gasps softly as she licks at the base of him, drawing a wet line with her tongue along the vein underneath, all the way to the tip. She concentrates her efforts slightly on the sensitive spot there before closing her mouth over the head of his cock, sucking gently.

She feels the way his thighs tense, and the blue disappearing as he closes his eyes. His fists are tight beside him, knuckles white, like he doesn't know if he should touch her or not. All he knows right now is that this feeling is brand new, and the sensation is so much already.

She pulls herself from him to run her tongue over his length, one hand moving to his hand, to encourage him. His blue eyes crack open just a bit, to understand what she's trying to tell him.

And she fights the urge to smile as his longer fingers swipe across her temple into her hair, his touch tender, soft and unsure as he holds her by it. 

Her lips wrap around him once more, pushing him further into her mouth, taking him steadily and slowly at first. Michael's hips move barely, chasing the friction that he's getting on his cock when she bobs her head on him and hollows her cheeks.

He watches with parted lips and warm cheeks, moving her hair away so he can watch himself disappear into her mouth over and over. Her hand massages the rest of him, giving him two unique sensations in one, something that earns her a deep, throaty moan.

When her eyes open to look at him, he thinks his heart stops in his chest for a split second. He closes his eyes, not able to bear the way she looks with his cock in her mouth if she looks right at him, feeling that if he did any longer he wouldn't last.

The sounds he emits don't stop there as she increases her pace on him, pressing her tongue to the underside of him and taking him deeper into her throat, humming around him at the heady scent of his skin.

It's only when she takes him as far as he will go, working hard to control her gag reflex that he gives the first genuine buck of his hips, tightening in her hair and a far-too-loud moan. If anyone in the next room were quiet and paying attention, they'd likely know exactly what was going on.

“Fuck-”

It only serves to spur her on as she pulls back, moving in a more steady, quick rhythm, that she is sure Michael is loving judging by the rate of his moans and the way he chokes out his words.

His stomach clenches and unclenches, his high creeping up on him as her mouth tightens around his length. 

“Shit - you need to - I'm gonna -” he chokes, weakly tugging her hair in an effort to pull her mouth off him before he cums.

If she didn't have his cock in her mouth she'd smile.

Her hand squeezes the base of him, and Michael throws his head back slightly, a long shuddered and choked moan reverberating through his chest. She swears she feels his thighs shake as she stills, warm ropes of his cum taste musky at the back of her throat.

His loud moan is followed quickly by more softer ones as her throat contracts to swallow as much as she can, briefly increasing the tension and friction around his sensitive length.

When she pulls off him with a pleased sigh, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Michael sits up slightly, having to gather his breath.

“Fucking hell…”

She takes it as a compliment and rises to her feet, her hands smoothing her skirt back down.

And she squeaks in delight as Michael quickly tucks himself away, barely doing up his jeans buttons before backing her up to the pool table again, kissing her fervently.

“What about you…do I…” he starts when he breaks away, panting softly. She smiles at the notion but shakes her head. This experience was for him alone.

“Not right now, don't feel inclined to,” she reassured, her hands on his chest, feeling the way his heart is beating rapidly beneath it.

“Right now?” he asks with a quiet, unsure tone, “does that mean…there's gonna be a next time?”

His tone is careful, and yet, she is able to detect something like desire there. An excitement for more, without seeming too eager so that he's not let down if she says no. Something that makes it clear he is 100% on board.

She bites back a grin.

“Quid Pro Quo, Michael.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorsky @fan-goddess

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Twenty-Six

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: smut (I finally wrote it y'all), fluff, *minors! DNI*

To skip this chapter, click this link to go immediately to Chapter Twenty-Seven

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Azriel had no shortage of secret hiding places scattered across Prythian — apartments paid for under alias names, safe houses in towns where everyone minded their own business, hell there was even a residence in the countryside he’d help build with his own two hands. 

But he didn’t bring you to any of those. Those places were either in dangerous territory, tainted by the work he conducted as a Shadowsinger and Spymaster, or touched by the hands of lovers he couldn’t even remember anymore. For you, he wanted someplace new. Someplace special. 

He grinned with excitement, squeezing the flesh of your thigh as he held you close and trekked through the forest.

“Where are we going?” You kissed the curve of his ear, peppering his skin with kisses wherever you could reach. 

“Why are you whispering?”

You shrugged, smiling against his neck as he continued. The mountain woods were silent save for the rustling of cicada wings and the wing beats of owls as they hunted in the night. Moonlight blinked through the foliage, scattering the ground with salt and starshine. 

It was calm here. Peaceful. 

Shadows covered your eyes and flicked away low hanging branches so they wouldn’t snap on your dress or get tangled in your hair. You heard the rustling of the branches whenever they were moved aside and couldn’t help but flush at the shadows’ politeness. 

“Just a little further now.” 

You could hear the anticipation growing in Azriel’s voice. His hands were becoming greedy, slipping beneath your dress when it shifted and leaving molten fingerprints wherever he touched. He shivered when you sighed against his neck, washing his skin with a warm breeze. 

There was a fire burning close by. You could smell the chimney smoke in the air and the fragrant smell of flowers.

You shifted in his arms, prepared for him to let you back down to your feet, but Azriel didn’t let you go, nuzzling his face into the soft skin of your neck as his shadows finally dissipated. 

“Welcome to our new home, my love.” 

You gasped softly—a sound that had Azriel’s tongue darting out to feel your pulse as you caught your breath. 

High in the mountains and deep in the woods, a clearing had been cut out and the ground turned over. Star magnolias lined the edges of the clearing, their white blossoms clinging to their branches like freshly fallen snow. Grass grew soft and unencumbered, the occasional flowering weed adding drops of color onto the rolling, green canvas that brushed against Azriel’s ankles. 

But the cottage… oh, the cottage was a beauty. Cream-white windows bright with firelight peered out from walls made of pale brown stone. Blue curtains hung in the windows like eyelids and an ironwood door made up the cottage’s mouth. The door was nestled between two hanging lamps and they poured their light onto two wicker chairs, a table, and a hanging daybed on the porch. Blue wisteria crawled up the porch columns onto the stone walls, lit up by moonlight until they glowed stronger than the stars in the sky. 

“This… this is ours?” You breathed in disbelief. 

“It’s ours.” 

Azriel made a subtle point of stepping over the threshold with you in his arms before quietly letting you down to your feet. It felt like the right thing to do. 

You walked through the cottage in a daze, the roaring blood in your body momentarily forgotten as you moved through the front room to the living room where a cream-colored sofa with plush blue pillows and two armchairs surrounded a flickering fireplace. A bay window looked out over the front lawn arranged with cushions and a small bookcase so you could read. The adjacent kitchen hummed with quiet energy, and you knew that whatever magic touched the House of Wind and the River House also lived here. 

It was a fairytale cottage come to life, clean and cozy with its cream-colored walls and exposed wood beams. 

There was also a conservatory at the back of the cottage you hadn’t seen from out front and its domed, glass roof reminded you of the Day Court athenaeums — a piece of home away from home. Already plants flourished along the windowsill — courtesy of Elain — and green strings of pearls spilled out of white hanging planters like miniature chandeliers. 

“We’re still in the Night Court,” Azriel explained. His hands drifted up to your shoulders as you stood transfixed in the conservatory. “In the mountains along the western coast ten miles from the Day Court border. I figured it would allow us both to be close to home… and far enough away for some peace and quiet.” 

Since coming to the Night Court — since meeting Azriel — there had hardly been time or space to breathe. The River House and House of Wind bubbled with talk, constantly moving as people came and went more frequently than the tide. 

But here it was just you two. 

You were here… alone.

Rooms remained unexplored in the cottage, but all thought of them flew out the window as you turned in Azriel’s arms and took in his burning, hazel eyes. You flung your arms around his neck, fingernails gently dragging through his hair as you kissed him dizzy.

You stumbled up the staircase, still lip-locked with Azriel groaning against your mouth as the buttons of his shirt were ripped off and trickled to the floor like raindrops. 

“Which one’s the bedroom?” You murmured as you staggered down the hallway. You were vaguely aware of some beautiful portraits hanging along the wall, flashes of blue, black, white, and gold paint expertly melted onto canvas, but admiring them was for another day. You had other, more important, things currently on your mind — like finding a gods-damned bed to fall into. 

You reached the very last door of the hallway before Azriel gasped out, “Here,” and grappled at the door handle, his other arm wrapped tightly around your waist like you were at risk of floating away. 

You and Azriel all but fell through the handsome wooden door engraved with some Illyrian markings you couldn’t make out and a large symbol of the sun. 

The fireplace roared to life, spurred on by the Cottage’s magic as Azriel dropped to his knees and started undoing the ties of your shoes. He looked radiant even while on his knees. His wings flared out from his back burning gold and orange as the firelight seeped through the thin, delicate membrane coloring his tan skin even more vibrantly as he looked up at you with hungry reverence. 

Blue velvet ribbons fell to the floor and your shoes came with them. They were the first piece of clothing discarded as Azriel gripped your ankles and began trailing kisses along your calves.

 He threw off his mating crown and it skittered along the floor, disappearing somewhere beneath the dresser. 

His lips moved up to your knees. Then further still. 

“Azriel.” You breathed your mate’s name. 

A four-poster bed took up most of the far wall, bracketed on both sides by wall sconces shaped like roses and mahogany nightstands. Gauzy curtains fluttered in the open windows, allowing inside a cool wind that smelled of petrichor and pine. 

You were never more grateful for a bed and a breeze as Azriel’s head disappeared beneath your dress. 

You gripped the bedpost, soft sighs turning to breathy moans as feather-light brushes of lips over skin turned to hungry, open-mouth kisses along your thighs. No one had ever kissed you like this. 

Azriel’s fingers dug into the flesh of your hips as he groaned. 

No one had ever touched you like this. 

You felt the air move between your legs and gasped. 

You scrambled to bunch your dress in your hands, revealing Azriel’s dark head of hair and his hazel eyes, pupils blown so wide they were nearly black. 

“Where did these come from?” He groaned, tucking his fingers into the waistband of your lacy, dark blue undergarments. 

“Sloane’s,” You said, chest heaving. It was a miracle you could speak at all. 

You’d never been with a male. Hell, you’d never been with anyone. Azriel had been your first for everything that mattered, and he would remain the only one who had you in this way. 

Azriel stilled as if the same thought had passed his mind. A shadow curled around your chin, tilting it down ever so slightly at the same time his eyes drifted up to yours, soft and vulnerable and golden. Your cheeks were flush with color, excitement and anticipation written in every muscle of your body. 

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he promised.  

You swallowed thickly and nodded, but you didn’t think you’d ever want him to stop. 

Your head hit the bedpost with a dull thud, mouth open and panting as Azriel pushed aside the lace and tasted you. 

You weren’t oblivious to what happened during sex. You were a grown female with access to just about any book on any subject in the entire world. You knew what happened during the frenzy — had been imagining it far too often the last few days— but experiencing it was another thing entirely. 

Every time Azriel moved his tongue — every time he so much as breathed — your hips were jolting, fingers twitching as you buried them in his hair and shoved his face closer. He was strong beneath you, breath and tongue hot and wanting. 

Azriel let out a strangled noise when the first thrust of his tongue had you tugging on his hair. Hard. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you hissed, squeezing your eyes shut. But Azriel grabbed your hand before you could bury it in the folds of your dress and brought it back to his head. 

“Do it again,” he all but growled and dove back in between your thighs. 

In the beginning, you tried to contain yourself — to drag out this moment that had been ages in the making. You bit down on your lips and stifled your moans in your fist until Azriel’s shadows came to pin your hand to the bedpost. 

But then he slipped his fingers between your folds, pressing and twisting and testing you until he’d sunk in knuckles deep. Then there was no stopping the pressure building between your legs and within your core. 

“Az,” you moaned, hips bucking against him. You couldn’t see his face, but you could feel his smugness and pride as he brought you to the edge. “Oh… oh gods, Az! Fuck!”

You came around his fingers, thighs clamping down around his head as you shivered and moaned, but he didn’t stop, not even when you began to whine and jerk from the overwhelming feeling. You thought he would stop. 

“Az,” You gasped, tugging at his hair. “Az, stop.” 

Azriel snapped back from your core, eyes glazed over in a drunken haze. His mouth glistened and he swallowed, standing up and sliding his leg between yours so you wouldn’t fall on shaky legs. 

You stared at each other, taking in the sight of flushed cheeks and wet lips and unruly hair. He licked his lips, then slowly wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. 

“Was that alright?” He asked seriously. 

You sprang forward, lips colliding with his as you pulled at his jacket. You undid the buttons that closed up the slits beneath his wings and in less than a second Azriel had it pulled off and thrown across the room. The buttons of his shirt were mostly undone, but he didn’t hesitate before ripping it open and scattering the tattered silk across the floor. 

You’d seen Azriel shirtless plenty of times before. It was how he preferred to sleep. And many hours had been spent awake in bed tracing the tattoos that swirled across his chest and shoulders with your eyes and with your hands. Now you traced them with your lips, sucking gently at the hollow of his neck where one of the dark marks curled. 

Azriel closed his eyes and sighed. 

He was much gentler with your dress than with his shirt. There was no tugging or tearing. He simply buried his face between your breasts while loosening the corset ties at the back, then slipped the dress off your shoulders. The dress fell to the floor with a whisper and you stepped out of the pool of silk.

Azriel took a step back and went completely, utterly still. 

You shivered beneath his unflinching gaze, resisting the urge to bring up your arms and hide yourself. It was a knee-jerk reaction, but one that you no longer needed. This was Azriel standing in front of you — beautiful, kind, and loving, Azriel, who already knew things about you more intimate than your body. 

Your lace underthings did little to cover you — a very intentional choice — and you found yourself flushing the longer Azriel went without saying or doing anything. 

Finally, he broke the silence and breathed in awe. “You’re beautiful, Y/n.” 

Emboldened by his words, you crawled onto the bed, holding out your hand for Azriel to join you. He hovered over you as you reached for his belt buckle, undid the buttons of his trousers, and slowly slid them far enough down that Azriel could kick them off. His shadows took his shoes. 

You watched carefully as Azriel leaned you back on the bed and placed his elbows on either side of your head. Every ripple of muscle, every stretch of skin, did not go unnoticed by you. Azriel was your mate and you were desperate for the sight of him. 

You slowly moved your hand between his thighs, experimental strokes setting his lungs ablaze as he groaned. The sound sent a new wave of heat between your legs and confidence through your bones, especially as Azriel fisted the sheets by your head, brows furrowed in concentration. 

Without warning he tore your undergarments off you, exposing every inch of your skin to the cool wind that blew through the windows. Nesta was right — the blue lace did not survive the first night of the frenzy. 

“I’ll… I’ll buy you more.” He promised, leaning down to smother his moans against your lips as you kept stroking him. 

“It doesn’t matter.” You whispered and drew him close to you. So close he could feel the wetness that had gathered below. “I want you to see me, Azriel.” You kissed the corner of his mouth before moving your lips to his ear. “I want you to touch me. All of me.” 

And who was he to deny you? 

His hand took over yours and you gasped when he finally slid inside you. Moans slipped into the open air, interrupting the rumble of storm clouds as they gathered close by. 

Azriel breathed heavily against your lips, right hand moving to reposition your legs so they wrapped around his waist. “Are you alright? Are you in any pain?” 

You shook your head fervently. You’d worried it would hurt the first time, and certainly there was an odd, but not unwelcome, tightness where you and Azriel met, but all you could focus on was the roar of the bond in your chest and the flutter of Azriel’s wings as he buried his face in your neck. 

Inch by delicious inch, Azriel pushed forward, always waiting for your permission to continue until his hips were pressed flush against yours.

You both panted for breath as your bodies molded to fit one another in this new way and Azriel swore there was a faint, otherworldly glow to your eyes as you stared at him and smiled. 

You dragged your nails down his back, reveling in the strangled noise that came from deep in Azriel’s throat. A noise that grew louder when you gave a small roll of your hips, testing the waters and loving the pleasure that shot through you. 

Azriel’s hands flew to your hips, clamping down and stopping your movements as he struggled to catch his breath. 

“Az.” You moaned his name and your core tightened around him.

“Don’t move,” Azriel choked out. “Just… just give me a moment.” 

He would never live it down if he came inside you now. 

You lifted your head from the pillow, wide eyes staring down at him as he squeezed his eyes shut as if in pain. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything, then he wouldn’t have to deal with your shuddering walls clenching around him as you stifled your giggles. Who would have thought the Shadowsinger would be so easy to bring to the edge? There was a thrill that shot through you as you realized, once again, just how much he loved you — just how much you drove him wild. 

One sharp snap of his hips was all it took for your laughing to turn to whines, hands reaching up and bracing against the headboard. Azriel began slowly, methodically, timing his thrusts to your breathing so he could draw those sweet noises from your lips like music. 

“Mother save me, Y/n,” he groaned, capturing your breast in his mouth and swirling it around his tongue.  

He flung open his side of the bond and you did the same, drowning in dual pleasure as his thrusts sped up. You thought your heart might explode in your chest. 

Azriel kissed his way up to your temple and pressed his forehead against yours, hot breath fanning over your cheeks as he tangled his fingers in your hair. He wished he was an artist so he could capture the sight of you beneath him. Your flushed cheeks and glowing eyes. The stretch of your neck as you tensed. The hot, fervent press of your breasts against his chest as your back arched off the bed. 

I love you, Azriel. Your words flowed across the bond, carried on waves and waves of pleasure as you jolted up and let out a choked cry. 

That sound. Azriel wanted to hear it every day for the rest of his life. He didn’t stop his thrusts, rolling his hips forward and chasing after his own release as one hand slipped between your bodies. You squirmed beneath him, hips bucking up wildly as he urged you on. 

“I’m here, Y/n. I love you so much. Keep making those noises for me. Please.” Azriel clasped his hand in yours, chanting your name as he felt that coil of pleasure tighten further. 

Illyrian wings are one of the most sensitive areas of the body, evolutionarily adapted to sense even the smallest changes in air pressure and wind speed. The apex of their wings alone contain nearly 3,000 nerve endings. 

Even through the daze of pleasure, you eyed the curve of Azriel’s wings with curiosity. 

Do it. Azriel begged. Please. 

You squeezed your legs around his waist, mind cloudy with pleasure as you dragged your fingers along the membrane just below the talon. 

This time you shattered together, hips slapping and cries of each others’ names spilling out into the night sky for all the stars to hear. Shadows burst forth from Azriel and mixed with the blinding rays of sunlight that exploded from your chest. Together, your magic blew out all the windows in the cottage and sent a roll of thunder so far over the mountains that Rhysand, Feyre, and even Helion felt a disturbance along the border. 

The hand you’d caressed Azriel’s wing with shot upward as you came for the second time in a row, slamming into the headboard and punching a hole through the solid wood. You held onto the ruined headboard as every tense muscle in your body slowly loosened with a twitch, spreading warmth and ecstasy across your skin and through the bond. 

Azriel collapsed onto your chest sweaty and spent. He could hear your heartbeat within your ribs running faster than a jackrabbit. You breathed heavily, blinking the fog from your eyes as you stared up at the ceiling. 

You brought your hands to Azriel’s back, holding him tight as you gathered your breath and tried to calm your racing heart lest it decide to fly out of your ribcage. 

“Did you…did you just break the headboard?” Azriel breathed out after some time had passed and neither of you were trembling anymore. 

“......No.”  

Azriel peered up first at you, and then the fist-shaped hole in the maple bed frame. He burst out laughing. The noise was brighter than sunlight and you couldn’t help but join in. 

“Are you hurt?” He grinned. 

You shook your head. Laughter spilled out of your lips so brilliantly they were more gasps for air than anything else. He kissed your knuckles, smooth and unharmed. Then, he attacked your neck, leaving gentle bites that tickled as you squirmed and sighed. 

“Shall we try and break the bed again?” Azriel offered, still smiling. 

“I think we can do more than try.” You grinned mischievously. You rolled over top of Azriel, tracing the smooth skin of his chest before bracing your hands over his heart. 

And so the frenzy began. 

6 weeks later

You leaned forward, chest pressing against Azriel’s as you gave him a drowsy, content smile. Steam coated the bathroom mirror in a film and condensed on the bottles you’d carefully arranged alongside the bathtub. One of the bottles was empty. It had taken that much to fill the Illyrian-sized tub until you and Azriel were both comfortably submerged in bubbles that smelled of sea salt and lavender. A platter of food — courtesy of the Cottage — gleamed on the low-rise table beside you, cheese, nuts, and cuts of meat half-eaten. 

Azriel tore off a piece of bread, dipped it in honey, and placed it on your tongue. He tilted his head back in thought. “The first floor bath?” He suggested. 

“The first floor has a bath?” 

Azriel smiled and you heard the scratching of pen on parchment as his shadows wrote down the room. 

Just this morning Rhysand had gently knocked on the doors of your mind, asking if you and Azriel would ever come back home to Velaris or if they should consider themselves abandoned. The prospect of hiding away in the Cottage forever was tempting, but you and Azriel had agreed on a flexible deadline — you’d both return to Velaris once you had… hmmmm, marked each room of the Cottage. 

“We haven’t done it outside.” You offered, looking out the window. The mid-afternoon sun hung lazily in the sky, rendering even the birds and insects drowsy. 

“We agreed the porch counts, remember?”

“Since when?” You sat up straight, water sloshing around your waist. 

“Since the last time we slept there two weeks ago.” 

You rolled your hips down, resting your head on his shoulder and peering up with a look that would have put him on his knees if he wasn’t already on his back. 

“We’ll add it to the list.” Azriel breathed out tightly. 

There was more scratching of pen on paper. 

You decided that of all the rooms in the cottage, you liked the conservatory the best. When Azriel was making those beautiful noises against you, arms wrapped around your back and pressing you into the floor, you could watch the stars as they moved in the sky and drew close to the Shadowsinger. When it rained you could feel the electricity splinter through the sky, almost in tune with your body. 

Azriel was partial to the library in the second floor’s west wing. You’d spent days there propped up on every wall and bent over every piece of furniture until you could name over a dozen species of wood. 

You blushed just to think about it as you sank beneath the bath bubbles. 

Azriel sat in a chair beside the tub, damp hair curling over his forehead as he read aloud from a book you’d stumbled upon during your… activities. 

The frenzy had finally burned its way through your system, leaving you sore in places you didn’t know possible. It had taken you and Azriel two days just to sleep off the exhaustion, tangled up in bedsheets heavy with your scent. 

You leaned your head against his shoulder, breathing in the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar. Azriel wordlessly kissed your temple, slipping his hand into your hair and dragging his nails along your scalp until you were sighing in contentment. 

This… this felt right. You wanted Azriel to know that he was everything. He was the wash of color over the world that makes things bright and safe. He was the only person you felt perfectly at home with. Someone to trust with your body and heart as much as your mind. Someone whose touch you could never dream of shying away from ever again. 

I know, my Y/n. Hazel eyes met yours, warm and soft. And you must know that you are everything to me as well. 

Everything? You smiled softly at him.

Everything. He replied.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

*insert meme* Why is it spicy?

This was my first try writing anything explicit so... hope you enjoyed it! Only took us half a year and 100k+ words to get to a spicy scene LOL

^^ this has been both my reaction, and Y/n's reaction

As always, I appreciate you immensely for reading and would love feedback/to hear what you guys think! We're nearing the end folks!

[kingkatsuki]

I’m not entirely certain I’m the best person to be writing for Suo, but one of my favourite people @m-ete0ra is in love with him so I had to try.

It shouldn’t have been this easy to gain the trust of the notorious Bofurin, but you’d practically been welcomed with open arms. But Suo Hayato had always been far more skeptical than the rest of his friends, and he was determined to reveal your true intentions.

Pairings: Suo Hayato x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, dubcon, mean!Suo (but honestly he’s borderline obsessed/possessive/jealous of you), reader is hinted to be part of a rival gang, Suo restrains you, marking, nipple play, public sex, praise, degradation, forced creampie.

Word Count: 4.4k.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this, my love.” You froze in your tracks when you heard Suo’s charming voice sound from behind you, shoving your hands into the pockets of your open hoodie as you turned to face him with a glare.

“Well if you’d stop following me, we would.” You cocked a hip out as he took a step closer, the same coy smile on his face as though he was greeting an old friend, “And stop calling me that.”

It was a dangerous game of cat and mouse that you both played, and it was certain that no matter where you were in Makochi Suo wouldn’t be far behind. Always a man who kept his cards close to his chest, never ever revealing his hand as he left you trying to decipher his next move.

“Don’t act like you give me a choice.” There was a dangerous undertone to his voice that betrayed the innocent smile that graced his face, his eye darkening as he took another step closer. The leather eyepatch he wore made him seem even more intimidating as he glared across at you, serving as a further intimidation tactic as he silently challenged you to run.

“There’s always a choice.” You shook your head, crossing your arms across your chest as you noticed his brows furrow. A dangerous air surrounded him, as though one wrong move would leave you backed into a corner and unable to fight.

“Not when you’re on Furin ground.” There was a menacing gleam behind his eye that had the unfamiliar sensation of fear blooming inside you.

“Your friends didn’t seem to mind much.” You gave him a sly smile as you remembered how kindly Umemiya had welcomed you, as though you were a sweet inconspicous lamb that needed protection from all the hungry wolves in the world, “I think they quite enjoy having me around.”

“You might have them falling for this cute and innocent act, but not me.” You could hear the warning tone in his voice as you felt your knees quiver, “I can see right through you.”

“Oh?” You hummed, smiling softly as you shifted from toe to toe, “Like the act that you put on too? Don’t tell me that you’ve got every one of your friends falling for it.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Suo gave you the same closed-mouth smile that he gave all his friends that oozed faux sincerity, but it was the subtlest lock of his jaw that gave him away.

“Yeah, sure you don’t.” You rolled your eyes as you turned to leave, “I wonder what they’d do if they found out about the real you.”

“Don’t walk away from me.” Suo reached out to grab your arm and you felt a surge of electricity conduct through you, pulsing through your veins as he kept his grip gentle but firm as he stopped you from leaving so soon.

“Don’t touch me.” You shot back while attempting to tug your arm out of his grip, but Suo was stronger. His hold tightened as you felt his nimble fingers squeeze your arm, blunt nails dug into the supple flesh as you gasped in a mixture of pain and surprise as he twisted your arm behind your back with trained precision. 

He always seemed to manage to back you into a corner, like a skittish doe who would startle at the faintest sound. Anticipating your next move so that he could ensure he was three steps ahead to stop you in your tracks, indulging in the thrill of the chase. 

“Get off me, Suo.” You moved to kick him, and one of your heavy boots managed to make contact with his calf but Suo was more instantaneous. Using his grip on your arm to pin your chest to the wall, his other hand pressed directly to the side of your neck against your pressure point. 

The impact spot that could kill.

“I don’t think you’re really in any position to be giving me orders,” Suo shook his head before letting his fingers stroke along the column of your throat, his lips pressed against the shell of your ear as his tassel earrings tickled your shoulder, “Especially when you seem to know what I’m capable of.”

You’d made a promise to yourself that you’d never run from a fight, especially not with a man from Bofurin. But the harsh grip that Suo maintained against you was almost frightening, as you instinctively began to struggle against him. You’d managed to weave your way into the inner rankings of Furin, befriending Umemiya and Sakura as though you were just another damsel in the town that needed to be protected, that needed a knight in shining armour. A role that they were far too happy to take on–

But Suo seemed to be the only one to see through the sweet, innocent role you’d tried to play in front of others. Perhaps, because he was also acting himself— trying to maintain a persona that was nothing like the real him, and in this game of cat and mouse it would come down to whoever was caged first. 

“Let go of me,” You growled, trying once more to struggle against his grip as you pressed your chest against the wall to give yourself more power as you pushed back against his firm body, “Now.”

“Ah, don’t be like that,” Suo cooed against your ear as you felt his teeth graze your helix, “I seem to recall you quite enjoyed being in this position.”

Your mind immediately went back to the nights he’d spent above you, watching those same tassel earrings swing as he fucked into you. And now you were standing in front of him like this, you wondered if that had all been part of his act too.  

“That was before I knew what a dick you were.” You sneered. 

“How vulgar,” He chuckled, a delicate rasp to his tone as he eased his hips forward to press against your lower back. Feeling the evident bulge beneath his pants as you found yourself increasing the pressure against it on pure instinct, “I think you’re getting me confused with someone else, sweet girl.”

His hand began to stroke against your hip as he followed the curve of your side up towards your chest, his lips now pressing scorching, open-mouthed kisses against the apex of your neck as his fingers settled beneath the swell of your breasts, “Because I seem to recall you rather enjoy my dick.”

Suo rut his hips forward, letting you feel his desire for you as he pressed your chest harder against the cold brick wall. Your cheek grazed against the surface as he kept you pinned beneath him, the musky scent of bergamot and sandalwood invaded your senses and made it difficult to breathe. 

“Is that why you’re not even trying to fight back?” Suo continued, deft fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt to press skin against skin. Leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake as he pushed the fabric of your top up around your chest, “I know you’ve got more bite than that.”

He had you feeling vulnerable, and not just because of your precarious position. Suo had taken the time to study you since your time at Furin, to try to discover more about you and the reasons that you had ended up on their turf. While everyone else had let their guard down around you, Suo had kept his up. Maintaining a facade of pleasantries while he sought to discover everything about you, keeping his friends close and his enemies closer–

“Shut up,” You growled, struggling in his arms as you moved one of your legs to try and hook behind his knee to take him down. A move that seemed to delight Suo as he chuckled darkly behind you, taking the opportunity to shove one of his thighs between your legs as he pressed the flat of it against your clothed sex.

“I always did love how feisty you are,” Suo pressed a kiss against your pulse point before biting down hard, pulling a desperate whine from your throat as you instinctively ground yourself down on his thigh. His tongue slipped out to salve the mark he’d left on your skin as he pulled back to admire his work, pressing a lingering kiss to the bruise as his cock twitched with satisfaction.

In his mind, you’d always be his.

Suo kept your arm secure behind your body as he reached forward to palm one of your breasts, massaging it through the sheer fabric of your bra before pulling the cups down to watch them spill out for him. The thought that anyone could walk by and see you in such a debauched state had your clit throbbing beneath your panties as you continued to chase the desire for friction as you ground yourself against him.

“The marks I left on these are almost gone,” He murmured, “I’ll have to give you fresh ones.”

His fingers were rough as they massaged your naked breasts, pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger as he felt them stiffen beneath his touch. Rolling and twisting them as he pulled more pretty sounds from the back of your throat, salving his tongue against the darkened mark he’d left on the column of your neck as he felt the pretty sounds vibrate against your skin.

“It’s quite amusing how turned on you get just from me playing with your nipples,” He groped your breast for emphasis as you mewled at his touch, “Bet I could make you cum from this alone, hm?”

You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of an answer as you tried to push back against him, the rough brick grazing your skin as you tried once again to struggle out of his grip or at the very least turn yourself to face him. But it was futile – Suo had you completely at his mercy.

“I don’t know why you keep fighting it,” Suo pressed, moving to give your other breast the same attention as he pressed his knee against the wall so that your body was practically held up by the flat of his thigh against your covered cunt, “When you make it so obvious that you’re enjoying every part of this.”

Your body betrayed you as you leaned into his touch, practically mewling when his fingers tugged and teased your pert nipples with honed practice. Arching your back to give him better access he pressed a trail of kisses along the exposed skin of your neck, swiping his tongue against your pulsepoint.

“Do you forget how many times I’ve made you cum, sweet girl?” He laughed, low and throaty as his hand ventured lower, “How many times you’ve creamed my cock?”

“The same number of times I could’ve made myself cum.” You spat back, struggling again as Suo shook his head.

“You’re doing everything you can to be defiant,” Suo pressed a lingering kiss to the side of your cheek as his hand smoothed along your tummy, slipping beneath the hem of your skirt to cup your crotch. Feeling the soaked fabric of your panties beneath his touch as his lips curled into a smug grin against your skin, “But at least your body is honest, isn’t she?”

“No.” You groaned, lashes fluttering as you felt Suo begin to press his fingers against your neglected clit through the thin layer of fabric, circling the sensitive nub as you writhed against him.

“No?” He tugged the material to the side roughly, feeling it dig into your skin as he exposed your slit, “Then why are you dripping all over my thigh?”

Suo’s fingers dipped into the seam of your cunt, collecting your slick against them as he pressed against your tight entrance. Feeling the way your body reacted to him your inner walls fluttered around the calloused pads, desperately trying to coax him deeper as he let out a soft groan against your cheek. Gathering more of your slick as he dragged it through your sloppy folds and pressed two fingers against your needy clit, rubbing slow persistent circles against it that had you crying out for him. His palm splayed against your pelvis, increasing the pressure as he nuzzled your cheek. Every saccharine sound he pulled from your throat had his cock throbbing beneath his pants as he imagined burying himself inside you and filling you with his spend. 

“If you weren’t so much of a brat we could’ve done this privately,” He continued talking as he circled your clit, “Instead you’d rather I have you spread out like a whore for anyone to see.”

You were far too acutely aware of your position, pressed against a dirty wall in a throughway in town. Dangerously close to the cafe that most of Furin liked to frequent, a sure sign that anyone could walk by and catch you in such a precarious position. Your skirt bunched up around your hips and your tits out for anyone to witness, a thought that only seemed to heighten the pleasure that rippled through you.

“Perhaps that’s what you want though, isn’t it?” Suo’s voice did nothing to alleviate the tension between your thighs as you felt yourself hurtling towards your climax, your toes curling inside your heavy boots as you teetered on the cusp of release, “For everyone to see that you’re a whore for Furin.”

The sinful husk of his voice had your cunt clenching around nothing as you let out a desperate whine, your body reacting to his touch as you felt your orgasm surge through you as you came hard.

“That’s it,” He cooed gently, “Just like that.”

He kept his fingers persistent against your clit as he trapped your body against the wall, his grip bruising against your arm whilst watching intently as you rode out your climax. Suo always seemed to know your body better than yourself as you lay your cheek against the wall. Allowing him to lean forward and capture your pouty lips in a languid clash of tongues and teeth, swallowing your moans in his throat as he moved his fingers lower towards your tight entrance to feel your walls trembling in the aftershocks of your orgasm as they clenched at the intrusion.

“Doesn’t it feel much better to be obedient?” Suo grinned against your lips as your brows furrowed in a tired frown, feeling you begin to struggle against him again, “Ah, don’t be like that– you know I’m right.”

Suo shuffled behind you as he pulled his pants down just enough to free his throbbing cock, fisting himself at the base as he pressed the drooling tip against your slick folds. Stroking himself through the mess between your thighs as he coated himself in your slick, the swollen tip nudging your tight entrance with each steady rut that had you instinctively pushing back into him. 

“You know something that I’ve learned about people who try to be deceptive,” Suo murmured as pulled back to see the euphoric desperation on your face as you shamelessly ground yourself back against him, his mahogany eye focused on the way your thick lashes fluttered as your eyes rolled back into your skull at his touch, “They can never deny the bodies instinctive desire to seek pleasure.”

You gasped when you felt Suo line himself up with your tight hole and snap his hips forward in one quick thrust, feeling the dull ache of the stretch surround you as he bottomed out inside you. Stealing the air from your lungs you choked back a debauched whimper as he pulled back enough to watch you completely lose yourself to the pleasure. He remained still inside you as he cherished the sensation of your walls clamping down around him, his lips curling into a sly smile when he felt your feeble attempt to fuck yourself on his cock. 

“So are you going to blame your body for this reaction?” He murmured as his lips hovered inches from your face, “Or are you going to admit that you like me using you like this?”

“Fuck.” You felt lightheaded as you leaned your temple against the wall, trying to stop your legs from giving out as Suo slowly began to unsheath his cock from your velvety walls. Immediately despising the empty sensation as he moved until only the tip was still buried inside your wet heat, smoothing his hand along the curve of your ass as he glanced down at the length of his cock completely coated in your slick already. 

“Tell me.” He persisted as you whined, your free hand reaching around to try and grab his cock but Suo’s reflexes were faster as he held both your arms behind your back now. Grasping your wrists in one large palm as he tutted, “Why do you find it so difficult being good for me?”

“Suo.” You choked back a sob that threatened to wreck through your body as the fire inside you blazed like a raging inferno, the scorching heat almost too much as you sought to extinguish it.

“Say it,” He pressed, reaching around to knead your breast roughly between his fingers, “Say the word and I’ll give you everything.”

You didn’t want him to think he had won– especially not this kind of victory. Your body begged for relief but your mind tried to fight through the salacious haze that shrouded it, you couldn’t deny the way you felt for him. The irrefutable ache that lingered inside you at the thought of having him, of keeping him.

“She missed me didn’t she?” He continues, watching you eagerly grind yourself against him, leaving messy glistening lines of slick against his pants as you seek out the delicious friction, “Look at the way she’s grinding against me.”

“Oh my god,” You whimpered, “Please.”

The continuous throb that pulsed in your core felt almost unbearable as you willed something, anything to soothe the ache. Unable to close your legs to try and satiate yourself with Suo’s muscular thigh trapped between them as you tried to rock your hips to give yourself even the slightest ounce of friction to help quell the incessant desire that emanated inside you.

“What was that?” He hummed, “I’m not quite sure I heard you–”

You hated how he knew exactly how to push your buttons, deliberately trying to garner a reaction from you as you could feel the satisfaction seeping through his sickly sweet undertone. Suo knew exactly what he was doing to you right now, and how much your body craved him.

He just wanted to hear you say it– to submit to him so he could claim another useless victory over you.

But to him, this victory was far from useless.

“Hayato, please–” You choked back a sob, “Please fuck me.”

“That’s what I thought.” He didn’t even give you a moment to respond before he was forcing his hips forward and burying his cock back inside your tight hole, starting a brutal pace that had you pressed against the wall. Fucking into your pliant body as he set a steady pace, the slap of skin against skin echoed around the alleyway, positive that it could raise enough attention to have anyone in the vicinity investigating the sound. 

“I don’t know why you insist on being insubordinate,” Suo growled against your neck, “When I know you’re fully aware that no one else will ever make you feel this good.”

Your tight cunt always took him so well, clenching around him as he fucked you back into the shape of him. Pulling more desperate whines from your throat as he used his grip on your wrists for leverage, forcing you back on his cock as he buried himself deep inside your walls. The blunt tip of his cock speared against every inch of you as he carved a path towards your cervix, bruising it with each thrust as he felt your entire body quiver from the force of his movements. 

“Do you think Sakura could fuck you this well?” He murmured, a stark contrast to his brash movements, “You think he would make you feel this good?”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” It was the only word you could manage as it left your lips in a dull mantra as if reciting gospel as Suo continued his rough pace. Trying in vain to roll your hips back against his in a feeble attempt to match his thrusts as he moved his fingers lower, pressing them against your clit to rub sloppy circles against it. Trying to get you to come undone before he reached his peak, already shamefully close to his own end with the way your body reacted to him. His balls were already tight and heavy with cum as he began to think about filling you up with his spend and watching it leak from your abused hole that he had fucked into the shape of his cock.

“You know deep down that no one will make you feel this good.” Suo threw his head back in a duplicitous laugh.

And he was right. No matter how many times you rubbed your clit raw or fingered yourself to a pitiful climax, it would never compare to the way Suo’s cock felt inside you. The way his body felt against yours as you found yourself leaning into him, seeking out the warmth of him pressed against you it willed your mind to give into the pleasure. 

“Come on, pretty girl.” He whispered against your cheek, the tassels from his earrings swinging from each rough thrust as they tickled your skin, “I know you want to cum.”

“You may think you can lie to me,” He chuckled darkly, pressing down on your pelvis as you felt everything become tighter as you let out a debauched whimper, “But your body always gives you away.”

You didn’t want Suo to feel like he had won, although you were almost certain that he already did.

“I know you’re close,” He teased, letting his fingers continue a trail to where your bodies were connected to press precise figure of eights into your puffy clit, “Come on, just let it happen.”

You tried to stop yourself from obeying his commands, trying to ignore the way your clit throbbed from the dark timber of his command. Your teeth gnawed your bottom lip to try and stop yourself from moaning out loud as he persisted.

“I want to feel you cream my cock.” He kept his rough pace as the added pressure to your clit had your cunt pulsing around him, his cock hitting that same spot inside you with each forward rut of his hips had your climax surging through you in harsh waves, the coil inside you snapping harshly as you came undone with a debauched cry of his name.

“That’s it,” Suo practically cheered, “I knew you’d give it to me– good girl.”

Suo let go of your arms, and the shift in position almost had your face slamming into the brick wall, barely managing to press your palms against the rough surface before his hand was weaving around your throat to pull you back against him. Using your body for his pleasure he kept thrusting into your pulsing walls as he pulled you into a sloppy kiss, his tongue sweeping across your lips to taste the artificial strawberry that glossed your lips.

“I’m gonna–” Suo groaned, his fingers digging into your hips almost painfully. You braced your hands on the wall to prevent yourself from falling to the ground as his heavy balls slapped against your clit. The rough brick scratched your palms as you fought to keep your balance, your head lolled and your chin knocked against your clavicle. 

“Not inside.” You gasped.

“Ah, but who am I to deny her what she wants–” Suo grinned, using his grip on your ass to slam you onto his cock as he lingered on the edge of his bliss, “I can feel her squeezing me.”

Your greedy cunt clamped down around him in an attempt to milk him of his own release as he moaned against your lips, his tongue brushing against your teeth as he followed you into bliss with a final harsh cant of his hips. Spilling ropes of warm cum inside your quivering walls as he coated them with his release, giving a few more messy rolls of his hips to ride out his pleasure as he fucked his cum deeper inside you, smearing it against your cervix.

“I don’t know why you always insist on fighting it,” Suo cradled your body as you both came down from euphoria, his fingers pressing into the indents he’d left against your wrists as he held your arms behind your back. Gazing up at him through half-lidded eyes as you tried to blink back the pearly tears that clumped in your lashes, feeling his cock begin to soften inside you as you whined when he pulled out, “When you know you will always be mine.”

His eye immediately shifted to the mess he’d left between your thighs as he pulled your panties back into place, patting your covered crotch gently as your fluttering walls continued to push more of his cum out of your hole and onto the ruined fabric. 

“Now,” Suo’s hand was rough around your neck as he held your back against his chest, his grip the only thing preventing you from falling to the ground on shaky legs, “You’re going to tell me exactly what you’re looking for with Sakura.”

“What makes you think I’m looking for anything to do with him?” You feigned innocence, which only had Suo’s palm tightening around your throat.

“I thought we’d been over this,” He heaved a sigh against your cheek as he shook his head, “And you were going to tell the truth.”

You could feel him stealing the oxygen from your lungs as his fingers flexed around your throat threateningly.

“It isn’t wise to play these games with me, pretty girl,” He cooed against your ear, “All I want is to protect Furin, and you should already know–”

His voice darkened as he exerted more pressure against the same specific point in your neck, your eyelids starting to feel heavy as you felt your body start to become lax in his grip.

“I’d do anything to protect it.”

[natsaffection]

Mafias Mistress pt. 6 | N.R.

MafiaBoss!Natasha x CivilianYounger!Reader

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Age gap (Natasha is 32 = reader ist 22) Fingering, begging, strap on use (r receiving), rough sex, dirty talk,

Word Count: 6,8K

A/N: It’s overrr. Thank you for all the support on this story! I really liked it to write and see talk reactions on it🫱🏼‍🫲🏻 As with all my other series, requests are of course welcome for this story! 🫶🏼

The room was silent except for the gentle sounds of Natasha's movements as she carefully tended to you. The air was filled with a mixture of lingering tension and the soft light of early dusk filtering through the curtains. You lay on the bed, your body aching from the intense punishment you had received, but the warmth and care in Natasha's touch brought a sense of comfort you hadn't expected.

Natasha gently cleaned your marks, applying soothing ointments and massaging where necessary. Her movements were delicate, almost reverent, as if she was trying to ease the pain she had caused.

Your eyes fluttered open, your voice barely above a whisper. "Why are you doing all this..."

Natasha paused for a moment, her eyes filling with a mixture of regret and determination. She took a deep breath, her voice soft and firm as she considered Maria's words.

"Talk to her. Help her understand."

"I... was born into a world of chaos..." she began, "My parents were involved in organized crime, and it was only a matter of time before I got sucked in, and before that happened, I ran away... I lived on the streets for 2 years, struggling to get by. Until a powerful organization took me in and from then on I regretted my first decision. They saw potential in me, potential to be more than just a foot soldier."

She sighed, her expression pained. "They trained me to be an assassin, ruthless and efficient. They taught me how to kill, how to manipulate, and how to use every tool at my disposal, including my own body. Part of that training was.. using control and dominance to get what I wanted. It became a part of who I was, a way of surviving in a world where weakness meant death.”

You listened, your mind forming a picture of the girl Natasha had been, forced into a life of violence and manipulation.

"But I didn't want to be just another puppet for anyone, because then I might as well have stayed with my father," Natasha continued, her voice growing firmer. "I wanted more. I wanted control over my own destiny. But leaving wasn't easy. I made a plan. I began gathering information, building connections, and identifying those within the organization who were dissatisfied. It took years, but eventually I had enough support to make my move. I staged a coup. It was bloody and brutal. I had to be ruthless. There were no second chances. Those who supported me joined me, and those who didn't... didn't survive."

She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper. "That night changed everything. I became the head of my own group, but it came at a cost. I lost friends, allies, people I cared about. But it was the only way to take control and build something new.”

Natasha's expression softened as she turned her gaze back to you. “I didn't want to run an organization like the others. I wanted to be different, better. I set up rules and codes of conduct. We still operated outside the law, but we had a sense of honor. We protected the weak, fought against those who exploited the weak. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than what I knew.”

She turned her gaze back to you. “And then I met you. You were different from anyone I'd ever known. You were kind, innocent, and full of life. You saw something in me that I didn't see myself. You didn't know who I was, and you treated me like a normal person. For the first time in my life, I felt something other than anger or fear. I felt...love.”

She continued, her hands now calm as she looked deep into your eyes. "I tried to keep you away from this life, to protect you from the darkness that surrounds me."

You felt tears well up in your eyes, touched by Natasha's words. "I didn't know that."

"how were you supposed to know?" Natasha looked into your eyes to see a reaction, "But you still had secrets from me," you said, your voice shaking.

Natasha nodded, her expression pained. "I know. I remember seeing you in the hangar for work. You were there, so focused and determined, and I couldn't take my eyes off you. I invited you to my house under the pretense of work, but in truth, I just wanted to be near you. I didn't just want you physically, I wanted you in every way. You were the only one I thought about, even when I was with someone else. I know that's hard to hear, but you have to understand that you changed everything for me."

She continued, her voice softening as she remembered those days. "Every time I saw you, my heart raced. You were a light in my dark world. I knew I was falling in love with you, and that scared me so much. I tried to keep my distance, but I couldn't stay away. When I finally confessed my feelings, I was terrified. I had never been so vulnerable in my life."

Natasha's face darkened with anger and fear. "And when I saw Viktor in your apartment, my heart stopped. He was sent by the former mafia to hurt you, to get to me. The moment I saw him, I knew I had to act. I couldn't let him hurt you. I would do anything to protect you, even if it meant becoming the monster I so desperately wanted to leave behind."

She took your hand and squeezed it tightly. "I know it was awful, and I'm so sorry you had to see that. But I would do it again if it meant protecting you. I love you more than anything and I can't lose you."

You felt a mix of emotions - anger, fear, sadness and love - swirling inside you. "I understand..." you said quietly, your voice full of emotion. "I understand why you did what you did. But that doesn't make it easy though."

Natasha nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I'm so sorry for everything, Y/N. The secrets, the punishments, the fear, the isolation, everything I've caused you. I promise I'll be honest with you from now on. No more secrets, please... I...I don't want to lose you..."

You reached out and took Natasha's hand in yours. "Okay." Natasha looked at you in surprise, a genuine smile full of hope and love. "O-Okay?"

"Yes." You looked at her with a gentle and serious look, "I'll try. But no more lies! No secrets, I want you to talk to me about everything that happens here. Both you and everyone else here."

Natasha's eyes filled with tears that she tried to suppress, she nodded frantically, "Yes...Yes, I promise you." You looked at her and saw how serious Natasha was. You nodded and Natasha got up to leave, to give you some rest. But as she wanted to turn away, she felt your hand holding hers.

Natasha understood immediately and lay down next to you. She gently pulled you into her arms and stroked your back soothingly. "Sleep now. Tomorrow will be a new day, okay?" she whispered, calming you in small, circular movements.

You sighed softly and gave in to the pleasant exhaustion that Natasha's presence brought you. Just before you fell asleep, you heard Natasha whisper softly, "You are the most important thing in my life."

But you were too tired to fully understand the words. You fell asleep in Natasha's arms, and Natasha stayed awake, her heart filled with a mixture of love and guilt, determined to do anything to regain your trust and protect you forever.

The sun shone through the large windows of the property in Spain, filling the rooms with warm light. You woke up in Natasha's arms, your bodies still close together. The closeness, the warmth and the calm of the morning made the events of the previous night seem almost like a dream.

Natasha was already awake and watching you with a gentle smile. "Good morning," she whispered, her voice soft and reassuring. You blinked sleepily and returned the smile. "morning."

After breakfast, while you were sitting together in the garden, Natasha took your hand and looked at you with a mischievous smile. "I have a surprise for you."

You raised an eyebrow and smiled curiously. "I'm afraid of your surprises..."

"I want to invite you to a ball tonight," Natasha said. "It's an important social event and I want you to be by my side." You were surprised, but also excited. "A ball? I've never been to a ball before. I don't even have anything suitable to wear."

Natasha just grinned. "Don't worry. That's already taken care of."

A little later, you were in your room and were amazed when a group of stylists arrived with a variety of beautiful dresses. The stylists, who had a wonderful sense of humor and fashion, immediately brought life into the room.

"Oh my God, darling, look at this beauty!" exclaimed one of the stylists, a tall man with perfectly styled hair, when he saw you. "She's like a canvas waiting to be painted," agreed another, a shorter man with lively eyes and a wide smile.

The stylists immediately began to attend to you. Your hair was artfully pinned up, strands carefully curled and arranged in an elegant hairstyle.

"Turn around, love," one of the stylists said, gently turning you to look at your hair from all angles. "We want to make sure you look perfect from all angles."

As they worked, they chatted happily, making you laugh over and over again. "Did you hear what happened on the red carpet last week?" asked the short stylist, telling a funny story that made everyone in the room laugh.

After the hair was done, one of the stylists brought in a selection of dresses. "We have a selection here that would make any princess jealous."

You tried on several dresses while the stylists helped you and gave you tips. Natasha watched carefully the whole time and occasionally gave her opinion. "This dress makes her eyes sparkle," Natasha said, looking at you in an emerald green dress.

"Ms. Romanoff is absolutely right," the tall stylist agreed. "But I think the blue dress would look wonderful on her too." After several fittings, you found the perfect dress - a stunning floor-length dress in a deep shade of red that perfectly accentuated your figure and made your skin glow.

"Oh my God, you look like a goddess," the short stylist said, stepping back to admire you. "Ms. Romanoff, what do you think?" Natasha had to hold back from letting her mouth drop open in admiration. "She looks incredible," Natasha said, her eyes sparkling with pride and desire.

The stylists set about perfecting your makeup. They chose subtle but effective colors that emphasized your natural beauty. "A touch of blush here and some shine there," the tall stylist murmured as he carefully applied brush strokes. "Perfect."

Meanwhile, two other stylists came over and began choosing your accessories. They chose delicate earrings and a matching bracelet that complemented the dress perfectly.

At that moment, there was a knock on the door and Maria entered. She stopped and her eyes widened in surprise and admiration. "Wow, she's beautiful.." Natasha had to smile.

The evening arrived, and you and Natasha drove to the ball in an elegant car. The magnificent estate where the ball was held was decorated with lights and flowers, and the guests wore the finest dresses and suits.

As you and Natasha entered the hall, many heads turned to look at you. Natasha, in her elegant smoking, held your hand tightly and confidently led you through the crowd.

You felt a little overwhelmed at first, but Natasha's presence calmed you down. You introduced yourselves to various high-ranking guests, and Natasha made sure you felt comfortable and included.

Back in the ballroom, you and Natasha danced to the soft music played by the live band. But suddenly an elegant woman in a black dress approached you. She had an aura of confidence and a clear aura of past intimacy.

"Natasha," the woman said, placing a hand on Natasha's arm. "It was a long time ago." Natasha turned around and immediately recognized her ex-girlfriend, Elena. "Elena," she said coolly and pulled her hand back. "What are you doing here?"

You watched the scene and felt a slight uncertainty rising. But Natasha quickly made it clear where her loyalties lay. "Y/n, this is Elena. An old... acquaintance."

Elena smiled charmingly, but her eyes flashed with curiosity. "Oh, and who is this charming woman at your side?"

"This is Y/n,” Natasha said firmly and pulled Y/N closer to her. "My partner." Elena raised an eyebrow, "Well, I see you've finally found someone who makes you happy. Good luck to you both."

Natasha nodded just a little and then turned completely to you again. "Let's keep dancing," she said and led you back to the dance floor without even looking back at Elena.

Suddenly Natasha felt her cell phone vibrate in her pocket. She took a quick look at it and saw that it was an urgent call. "I have to take this call," she said apologetically to you. "I'll be right back."

You nodded understandingly. "Okay, I'll go to the bathroom in the meantime." You looked at your reflection in the mirror. How did Elena convince Natasha back then? Was she just one of those girls? Or something else?

You couldn't help but let your mind wander until you felt Natasha's hands on your shoulders again. "I can see something is going on. Please don't tell me it's because of Elena." You turned around. "And what if it is? How long has it been between you?"

Natasha studied your gaze until she had to grin. "Is someone jealous?" Your eyes stayed on hers, but she could see the frown. "It was over with her years ago. Don't worry about it... I only have you on my mind." Her hands ran down your arms.

Her lips met yours in a hungry kiss, tongues mingling and swirling in an intimate dance. Your heart pounded against your chest, an artesian well coming to life inside you. Natasha slipped her hands under your dress and caressed your bare back. You couldn't help but laugh “seriously? Here?”

You leaned your head back and bared your neck, your breasts rising and falling rapidly as you gasped for air. "S-S-Shit, Natasha.."

She pushed you against the cold tiled wall, grabbing your face and lifting it up so your eyes met. She kissed you again, this time slowly and deeply, your tongues wrestling and exploring each other. The heat between you grew steadily, your breaths mingling and fueling the fire that burned within you.

Slowly, Natasha's skilled hands began to wander, moving down your front and caressing the soft fabric stretched tight over your nipples.

"I want to feel every inch of you."

You fluttered your eyes shut, your body melting into the intimate embrace. Natasha seemed to embody that very quality, her firm grip and commanding presence sending shivers down your spine.

"What do you want, baby?" Natasha asked, kissing your jaw. "Do you want me to touch you? Taste you?"

"Yes," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper, your breath catching as Natasha's fingers danced tantalizingly close to your aching breasts.

Natasha grinned, her eyes shining with desire as she traced a trail of wet kisses down your neck. Her hand finally slipped under the fabric of your bra and roughly cupped a breast.

"Oh god," you moaned, your fingers clenching in Natasha's hair as the nipple hardened under the older woman's touch.

"You're so sensitive," Natasha whispered against your flushed skin. "And I'm just getting started." She teased the sensitive tip with her thumb, drawing a helpless gasp from your lips.

Then she quickly unclasped your bra and let it fall from your body, exposing your bare breasts. Instantly, your nipples tightened even more under Natasha's heated gaze. Without a second's hesitation, Natasha leaned down and took one of your nipples into her mouth.

"Oh, f-fuck!" you cried. You couldn't believe what was happening. Every thrust of Natasha's tongue, every flick and swirl sent sparks of pure ecstasy through your veins. You moaned loudly, your hands tightening in Natasha's red hair, urging her on.

With a growl of pleasure, Natasha sucked harder on your nipple, pulling it deeper into her hot, wet mouth, then released it with a pop.

"God, you taste amazing," Natasha gasped, turning her attention to your neglected other breast. Her fingers slid down your waist, exploring the soft skin of your stomach before dipping under the waistband.

Natasha's touch was electric, and you couldn't help the tremors that shook your body as your desire grew stronger. You writhed in pleasure as Natasha expertly teased your aching tips, each tug and pull sending waves of scorching heat through you, igniting your nerve endings.

Her other hand dipped beneath the elastic of your panties and she slid her fingers through the silky auburn locks that protected your core. Her fingers penetrated deeper, sliding over your swollen, wet folds as she sought and found your weeping entrance.

Natasha's touch was masterful and she knew exactly how to control your body. She slid her skilled fingers through your dripping slit and ran a deft finger over your sensitive clit, making you buck against the wet, warm invasion.

Natasha breathed heavily and slid her fingers deeper inside you, her touch slippery as she curled her fingers and caressed that inner spot no one had discovered inside you before.

Your moans intensified, the world spun around you. She began a rhythmic, relentless pace, driving her fingers in and out of your wet heat, your bodies melding in an intimate dance, an erotic ballet of pleasure. Natasha's lips found yours, consuming your moans and whimpers in a lingering kiss.

"You like this, don't you?" Natasha asked, her words hot and labored as she broke the kiss, leaving you breathless and trembling.

You nodded, unable to find your voice.

All that escaped your lips was a hungry moan as Natasha curled her fingers into your wet folds again. With each thrust, you thought you might just fall apart, that the wave engulfing you might finally crash over you.

"Oh, how you love this," Natasha whispered in your ear, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "You're so fucking wet for this, you need it."

You gasped, unable to deny the truth of those words. Despite everything, you couldn't help but squirm and moan as Natasha continued her skillful assault. Her talented fingers moved in and out of your sweltering wet heat, rubbing at that inner spot that made you see God and stars alike.

"You know what to do," Natasha said, her breath hot against your ear. Her fingers continued their relentless assault on your quivering core.

Your mind swirled, overwhelmed by a whirlwind of pleasure. You felt yourself slipping deeper into blissful oblivion with each thrust of Natasha's talented fingers.

"Please!" you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... want... Please let me come!"

Natasha's lips curved into a wicked smile. "Good girl," Natasha murmured, her voice deep and sexy. Seeing your flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes, she knew she had you on the edge of arousal. She pressed firmly against your clit with her thumb and forefinger, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive you wild.

With a final flick of her wrist, Natasha slid a third finger into your wet heat, filling you completely. You gasped and arched your back, your head resting on her shoulders.

Natasha slid her other hand ne hind your back, holding you firmly against the sink as she rhythmically plunged her fingers deep into your tight channel.

Your breathing quickened, your chest rose and fell in irregular patterns as your orgasm approached a painful climax.

"Don't hold back, Detka. Let me feel you." Natasha coaxed you, her commanding tone urging you to let go. Her movements became faster, almost frantic.

"Come on. Don't fight against it. Fall apart for me." With a strangled moan, you succumbed to the delicious burst of pleasure that coursed through your body.

Legs shaking, orgasm washing over you like a flood, your nerves tingling with the sheer force of your release. Your body spasmed as wave after wave of euphoria enveloped you, each trembling contraction pushing you to the edge of a deep abyss that threatened to swallow you whole.

And Natasha watched with wild satisfaction, her fingers never trembling as she pounded relentlessly into your wet, throbbing core.

After your intense moment, Natasha helped you compose yourself. Her eyes were still full of intensity, but also of something else. "Y/n," Natasha said seriously. "There's a plane waiting for you tomorrow. It will take you back home."

You looked at Natasha confused. "W-What? Why?" Natasha took your face in her hands. "I love you. But I don't want you to be in danger. Dreykov is here in Spain and I need to take care of him. It's safer for you if you go home."

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. "But you brought me here? Why should I leave now?" Natasha sighed "My team set a trap for Dreykov. He's here in Spain now and I need to make sure he's no longer a threat. I can't leave you here while that happens."

You nodded slowly, your tears streaming down your face. "But I don't want to leave you." Natasha kissed your forehead gently. "I'll come as soon as possible. I've booked an apartment for you where you'll be safe. It's only for a short time."

In the morning, you sat quietly in the car and looked out the window. The Spanish countryside rushed past you, but your thoughts were on Natasha. You felt empty and confused, not sure what the future would bring. Maria sat next to you, concentrating on the road, but she too seemed to be deep in thought.

Suddenly Maria's phone rang. You noticed the urgent expression on Maria's face as she answered the call. "Yes?" Maria said curtly.

You looked over at her curiously, and Maria quickly changed to a serious tone. "Stop the car," she suddenly said to the driver. "Right now."

You looked at her worriedly. "What's wrong?" Maria turned to you, her eyes full of determination. "Y/n, you have to stay in the apartment, am I clear?"

Y/N nodded hesitantly. "Yes, but What happened? Maria got out of the car and looked at you with a serious look. "I can't explain it to you now. Please, trust me. Stay in the apartment and wait for Natasha.”

You nodded again, although you still felt uncertain. Maria got into another car that had suddenly appeared and drove away quickly. The original car continued its journey and you looked out the window thoughtfully.

Back in your country, you entered the luxurious apartment that Natasha had booked for you. It was breathtaking. large windows offered a breathtaking view of the city, the decor was modern and elegant. But despite the beauty of the place, you felt lonely and abandoned.

You tried to call Natasha, but every time only the voicemail answered. “Hey, Natasha. Please call me as soon as you can. I'm worried,” you said into the voicemail and hung up with a sigh.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you decided to visit your best friend Sarah. When you stood in front of Sarah's door and rang the bell, it didn't take long for her to open the door. Sarah's eyes widened in surprise and relief when she saw you.

"Oh my God, Y/n!" Sarah exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug. "Where were you? I thought you'd been kidnapped or worse!"

You smiled weakly. "It's a long story. Can I come in?" Sarah pulled you into the living room and sat next to you, worried. "Tell me everything. What happened?"

You began to tell your story, leaving out the dangerous details and Natasha's criminal activities. "I met someone, Sarah. Her name is Natasha. She took me to another world, and it was... exciting and scary at the same time."

Sarah looked at you with wide eyes. "You just disappeared! We were so worried. Tell me about her if she's so important that you'll drop everything!”

You smiled and nodded. “She's... special. She always knows what she wants. She makes all my sexual fantasies come true... And she's just... perfect. This woman has no fat, no spots, everything... just gorgeous.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow. “And what does she do for a living?” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Her family... is very rich and they respect traditions... and stuff.”

Sarah shook her head. “You also think I'm the last pea, don't you? Truth, now.” A few minutes later, you and Sarah were sitting there with a bottle of wine. After all, you had told everything - about the death of the man in your apartment, Natasha's connection to the mafia and the reasons why Natasha had sent you back.

Sarah looked at you, shocked and worried at the same time. “That's... How are you??” You sighed deeply and took a big sip of wine. "I don't know. She showed me that she would do anything for me. But it's also scary how far she would go."

Sarah put a hand on your shoulder. "I understand now why you're so in love, but also why you're so scared. What are you going to do now?"

You looked out the window and thought for a moment. "I don't know exactly. I just have to trust that Natasha will come back and that we'll somehow find a way to get through all this."

After thinking about it for a while, Sarah leaned forward and smiled mischievously. "I have an idea. Why don't we have a real girls' day today? We'll go for a massage, to the hairdresser and to a club in the evening. What do you think?"

You hesitated for a moment, but then you nodded slowly. "That actually sounds pretty good. I could really use a distraction."

Sarah beamed. "Perfect! Let's get started."

Sarah dragged you from one place to another. First, you went to a spa where you treated yourselves to a relaxing massage. You could feel the tension in your shoulders slowly easing away and you sighed deeply in relief.

"This is heaven," you murmured as the masseuse skillfully eased your tension. After the massage, you headed to a fancy hair salon. There, you got your hair cut and styled while Sarah got a new hairstyle as well. You laughed and chatted with the stylists and enjoyed the pampering treatment.

In the evening, you dressed in fancy dresses and headed to an exclusive club that happened to be near your apartment. The club was located in a wealthy area of ​​the city and was known for its elegant atmosphere and high-profile guests.

Sarah and you entered the club and were immediately greeted by the lively music and sparkling lights. You danced and laughed, leaving the worries of the day behind you and enjoying the moment.

Towards the end of the evening, as you were making your way back to the apartment, you noticed a man following you. He was charming and chatting to you, but you could see the underlying intentions in his eyes.

"It really was a great evening," the man said as you arrived at the entrance to your apartment. "Perhaps we could extend the evening a little longer?"

You smiled politely but firmly. "Thank you, but I think it's better if I go home now." The man didn't seem to accept that and took a step closer. "Come on, just one last drink."

Suddenly you heard a familiar, icy voice behind you. "I think she said no." You turned around and saw Natasha standing in front of you with sparkling eyes and a determined look on her face. The man backed away, startled.

"I think you should go now," Natasha said threateningly. The man didn't hesitate for long and hurried away. Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked at Natasha.

Your relief quickly turned to anger. "Where were you? Why didn't you answer my calls?!"

Natasha sighed and stepped closer. "I couldn't answer the phone. I'm sorry." You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. "You have no idea how worried I was. And now you just show up here like nothing happened?"

Your shoulders sank and you felt your anger slowly subside. "I was really scared, Natasha. I thought something had happened to you." Natasha pulled you into a tight hug, her voice soft and soothing. "I'm sorry for making you so worried..."

Finally, you let the tears flow freely and clung to Natasha. "Promise me you'll never make me so scared again." "I promise," Natasha whispered, holding you tightly in her arms. When the embrace broke, the two looked at each other. Natasha's face spoke volumes.

Your legs wrapped around Natasha's thighs and you forced your hips against hers. Natasha's lips curved into a smug grin before throwing you onto the bed.

With a playful glint in her eyes, she took off her shirt and tossed it aside. She leaned over you and ran her hands down your body to your waist, and with a deft flick of her hips, removed the remnants of your clothing. You lay before her in all your glory, your eyes wide with desire.

"You are so beautiful," Natasha purred, her voice deep and heavy with desire. You felt another surge of heat in your core as Natasha's eyes roamed over your naked body, lingering on every curve. Natasha hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her own pants, slowly sliding them down inch by inch, revealing her proud strap-on.

You looked up at the sight, suddenly fearless and excited. The very thought of taking something so impressive inside you was intoxicating and terrifying in equal measure, but you didn't hesitate for a moment. You wanted it, no you needed it so much that you would risk your dignity just to get a glimpse of what this could offer you.

You stared at Natasha, your eyes fixed and full of desire. You nodded slowly, a silent expression of your approval. Natasha's grin widened, her eyes shining as she leaned in to whisper in your ear. "You don't know how much I've wanted this."

Her breath tickled your ear, making you shiver as Natasha's teeth gently bit into your earlobe, ripping a gasp from your lips.

"Is this what you want?" Natasha growled, framing your face with her strong hands and guiding you to look up at her with deep, mesmerizing eyes.

With a pinch of her lips and a roll of her hips, you forced Natasha to take the initiative and do what she wanted with you. Overcome by your lust, Natasha didn't hesitate - she took your mouth and pressed her lips roughly to your own. Your tongues met and mingled, your mouths opening wide as you pressed against each other, your wet bodies tangling.

You sucked in a sharp breath as the tip of Natasha's cock entered you, stretching you wide. Your legs tightened around Natasha and you gasped and moaned, unable to control yourself. Your skin felt like it was burning with pleasure, electric currents radiating from where they were, combining with an ache in your chest as she pushed further and further.

Natasha was all muscle and strength as she took your hips and lifted them up to her. Your throbbing clit was pressed against Natasha's hard pelvis, the dual sensation of penetration and friction sending an escalating wave straight to your soul and making your body tremble.

Your legs tightened around Natasha's waist, pulling her in deeper, urging her to take your body all inside her. The slick grip of your hip made Natasha moan as she plunged deeper into oblivion, sweat pouring down her brow. She was almost all the way inside you and the sight of your flushed skin and swollen lips made Natasha's heart race with desire.

"Please! Oh God, y-yes!" you screamed, your fingers digging into the bed sheets. Somehow the older woman managed to find even more energy, increasing her pace and grinding hard against your throbbing core until every last shred of her restraint was broken.

"F-fuc-k…!!!!" you begged, your body writhing and grinding against Natasha. She did not disappoint. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she pushed deeper and faster, determined to send you over the edge of pleasure.

As your body twitched and shook beneath her, Natasha gripped your ass and drove every inch of her rock-hard fake cock into your quivering hole as if she was trying to pierce the earth's core.

Without a moment's hesitation, Natasha wrapped her arms around your trembling thighs and held you tight as she moved in and out of your body like a piston at a dizzying, relentless pace. The wet, slick sounds of your bodies touching echoed through the small room, punctuated by your cries of delicious pleasure.

Fingernails scratched and clawed at flesh, your bodies contorted in Ecstasy. You clung to Natasha, your legs wrapped tightly around her waist as Natasha impaled you over and over, going deeper with each thrust.

“S-Soo..rough!! Fucki-ng..”You cried out between labored gasps, a string of throaty curses escaping your lips as Natasha worked your body raw. With each invasion of that glorious phallus, inch by delicious inch, your mind reeled.

The thickness, the length you could feel inside you, filled you with an intensity beyond pure pleasure. Every thought, every doubt vanished in the heat of your lust. All you knew was that you never wanted it to end.

Natasha was insatiable. Her body moved like an unstoppable machine, thrusting in and out of you with a passion that made you both feel like you were losing your minds in that moment of exquisite sensation. Sweat dripped from her skin at the intensity of your contact.

Her hips bucked wildly as Natasha thrust deep inside you, drawing a throaty gurgle from your half-open mouth. "Oh, fuck yes..!" She cursed, unable to hold back.

Your climax was building, your whole body shaking with the intense pleasure that threatened to overwhelm you. A sheen of sweat covered your body and your breathing became shallow and ragged as you felt the walls of your pussy tighten around Natasha's thrusting shaft.

You threw your head back, releasing a dull mixture of pain and pleasure that only made your impending orgasm more intense.

Natasha's pupils were wide as her fingers found your swollen clit, pinching it between her thumb and forefinger.

Your back arched, your moan an uncontrolled scream that echoed off the bathroom walls like a wounded animal.

"You're going to cum, aren't you?" Natasha growled, her voice dropping an octave with each word, sending shivers down your spine.

Your legs trembled and your teeth clenched like vices as you stared into Natasha's piercing eyes. Those eyes followed every breath, every gasp, every fluttering eyelid.

"I - Natasha! I'm close... so fucking c-close!" you whispered hoarsely, your bucking hips rolling in time with your partner's relentless thrusts.

Your nails left flesh-red streaks on Natasha's back, each stroke capturing your lover's primal animal essence. Intense musky scent bloomed from your wet connection, smearing your pierced skin as the steady rhythm swelled to a crescendo.

With a strangled cry, you reached the edge. Your entire body shuddered as waves of pleasure washed over you. Natasha's hand, expertly placed on your clit and synchronized with her thrusts, brought you over the edge.

Your body tensed, then convulsed as you exploded in a shudder of ecstasy. Your scream echoed off the tiles and reverberated through the bedroom.

Natasha watched with satisfaction as your orgasm ripped through you, her eyes half-lidded in lust. The animalistic quality of the woman before her had ignited something deep within her.

With one final eruption, Natasha thrust into you with an intensity even she hadn't expected. "Ah, s-shit... almost-" Her head fell back, the feeling of dominance an exquisite aphrodisiac. She thrust one last time , “Yebat (shit), I'm coming!" Natasha cursed with a low growl.

Natasha bucked violently, her body tensing, and she surrendered to the orgasm that had developed into a feverish frenzy. Her thrusts gradually slowed as she breathed in unison with you, still intimately connected to you.

With a deep mixture of pleasure and agony, she felt herself collapsing against your chest, her vision blurring as the powerful aftershocks pulsed throughout her body.

You remained fused together, trembling in the aftermath of your shared orgasm. Your mingled breaths came in short, sharp gasps.

The silence that spread after the stormy night was soothing and filled the room with calm. "Will you marry me?" she asked, her voice rough and serious. You blinked in surprise and looked at Natasha as if to make sure you heard her correctly. "Are you serious?" you asked, your voice quiet and trembling.

Natasha nodded and took your hand in hers. "Dreykov is gone. He's history." she said, looking you deep in the eyes. "I let half of my team go. I closed my last deals. The house in Spain is empty now, and we could-"

"Yes," you said quietly, then louder and more determined. "Yes, I want to marry you."

Natasha smiled, "Say that again..." Natasha said, making your heart beat faster. "I want to marry you," you whispered, pulling Natasha into a hug. You leaned into Natasha and felt the relief and joy wash over you.

Later that morning, you prepared breakfast together. You laughed and chatted, enjoying the normality and simplicity of the moment. The threat of Dreykov had disappeared, and you could finally live in peace.

Natasha continued. "... and those who are still here will take care of legal business. My last big business deal is done, and I have everything sorted out so we can live without worries."

You looked at Natasha admiringly. "You really thought of everything." Natasha nodded and smiled. "Yes, I wanted to make sure everything was perfect."

A few weeks later, you and Natasha were seen at a home decor store, choosing furniture and decorations for your home in Spain. You laughed and discussed colors and styles, Natasha letting you make many of the decisions.

"What do you think of this one?" you asked, pointing to a sleek but comfortable looking piece. Natasha smiled. "I think it's perfect."

Back at the house, construction workers were working on implementing the changes you had planned. You and Natasha walked through the rooms together, discussing the progress and enjoying the changes.

"I want you to feel as at home here as I do," Natasha said, squeezing your hand. You smiled happily. "I already do. Thank you for including me so much."

Meanwhile, Maria was seen still in charge of the security staff. She glanced at the screens and gave instructions, but her expression was calmer than before. The danger was over, and she could focus on ensuring safety in more peaceful times.

In the evening, you sat together on the terrace of your house, the sun slowly setting, bathing the surroundings in a warm, golden light. You held hands and enjoyed the silence and calm of the moment.

"I can't imagine anything better than this," you said quietly, leaning your head on Natasha's shoulder.

"Me neither," Natasha replied gently. "We got through everything, and now we can really enjoy our lives."

Your love was stronger than ever, and you knew that as long as you were together, you could overcome any challenge. The future was bright, and you looked to it with hope and confidence.

The End.

:)

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🏷️ TAGLIST

@kipitou @thalia-is-not-ok @queen2234 @sgm616 @dorabledewdroop @natsxwife @natashaswife4125 @loneliestafterparty @jenniferjareauwife @maggieromanov @doveromanoff @agent99galanzo

[magical-oppas]

How to find your favourite driver

Nico Hulkenberg: Kindergarten drop off

Kevin Magnussen: FIA jail cell

Zhou Guanyu: A photoshoot for a fashion magazine

Valtteri Bottas: Go somewhere where you wouldn't expect people to have their whole arse out. He will show up

Yuki Tsunoda: Go to the highest rated restaurant you can find. He will come.

Daniel Ricciardo: Texas

Logan Sargeant: Underneath an amreican flag

Alex Albon: Become a cat, let him come to you

Esteban Ocon: In an alley somewhere making tiktoks

Pierre Gasly: COD lobby, most probably beefing with a 14 year old so you will have to wait your turn

Fernando Alonso: Conduct some questionable business, eventually he will give you a call

Lance Stroll: You wont find him unless he wants you to

Oscar Piastri: Sorry, he only spawns at tracks during race weekends

Lando Norris: Top step of the podium *air horn sound**air horn sound**Sunglasses emoji**fuckboy emoji(you know which one I mean)*

Carlos Sainz: Just stand on the side of any bike trail, he will turn up eventually

Charles Leclerc: A high end designer boutique for dogs

Lewis Hamilton: Any red carpet event of your choosing

George Russell: Outside Buckingham Palace

Sergio Perez: Locate Helmut Marko, now locate the furthest point away from him. Voila, you have found Checo

Max Verstappen: Start sim racing. What? You thought you could meet him irl? Don't be ridiculous

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Cleantech has an enshittification problem

On July 14, I'm giving the closing keynote for the fifteenth HACKERS ON PLANET EARTH, in QUEENS, NY. Happy Bastille Day! On July 20, I'm appearing in CHICAGO at Exile in Bookville.

EVs won't save the planet. Ultimately, the material bill for billions of individual vehicles and the unavoidable geometry of more cars-more traffic-more roads-greater distances-more cars dictate that the future of our cities and planet requires public transit – lots of it.

But no matter how much public transit we install, there's always going to be some personal vehicles on the road, and not just bikes, ebikes and scooters. Between deliveries, accessibility, and stubbornly low-density regions, there's going to be a lot of cars, vans and trucks on the road for the foreseeable future, and these should be electric.

Beyond that irreducible minimum of personal vehicles, there's the fact that individuals can't install their own public transit system; in places that lack the political will or means to create working transit, EVs are a way for people to significantly reduce their personal emissions.

In policy circles, EV adoption is treated as a logistical and financial issue, so governments have focused on making EVs affordable and increasing the density of charging stations. As an EV owner, I can affirm that affordability and logistics were important concerns when we were shopping for a car.

But there's a third EV problem that is almost entirely off policy radar: enshittification.

An EV is a rolling computer in a fancy case with a squishy person inside of it. While this can sound scary, there are lots of cool implications for this. For example, your EV could download your local power company's tariff schedule and preferentially charge itself when the rates are lowest; they could also coordinate with the utility to reduce charging when loads are peaking. You can start them with your phone. Your repair technician can run extensive remote diagnostics on them and help you solve many problems from the road. New features can be delivered over the air.

That's just for starters, but there's so much more in the future. After all, the signal virtue of a digital computer is its flexibility. The only computer we know how to make is the Turing complete, universal, Von Neumann machine, which can run every valid program. If a feature is computationally tractable – from automated parallel parking to advanced collision prevention – it can run on a car.

The problem is that this digital flexibility presents a moral hazard to EV manufacturers. EVs are designed to make any kind of unauthorized, owner-selected modification into an IP rights violation ("IP" in this case is "any law that lets me control the conduct of my customers or competitors"):

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

EVs are also designed so that the manufacturer can unilaterally exert control over them or alter their operation. EVs – even more than conventional vehicles – are designed to be remotely killswitched in order to help manufacturers and dealers pressure people into paying their car notes on time:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

Manufacturers can reach into your car and change how much of your battery you can access:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/edison-not-tesla/#demon-haunted-world

They can lock your car and have it send its location to a repo man, then greet him by blinking its lights, honking its horn, and pulling out of its parking space:

https://tiremeetsroad.com/2021/03/18/tesla-allegedly-remotely-unlocks-model-3-owners-car-uses-smart-summon-to-help-repo-agent/

And of course, they can detect when you've asked independent mechanic to service your car and then punish you by degrading its functionality:

https://www.repairerdrivennews.com/2024/06/26/two-of-eight-claims-in-tesla-anti-trust-lawsuit-will-move-forward/

This is "twiddling" – unilaterally and irreversibly altering the functionality of a product or service, secure in the knowledge that IP law will prevent anyone from twiddling back by restoring the gadget to a preferred configuration:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/twiddler/

The thing is, for an EV, twiddling is the best case scenario. As bad as it is for the company that made your EV to change how it works whenever they feel like picking your pocket, that's infinitely preferable to the manufacturer going bankrupt and bricking your car.

That's what just happened to owners of Fisker EVs, cars that cost $40-70k. Cars are long-term purchases. An EV should last 12-20 years, or even longer if you pay to swap the battery pack. Fisker was founded in 2016 and shipped its first Ocean SUV in 2023. The company is now bankrupt:

https://insideevs.com/news/723669/fisker-inc-bankruptcy-chapter-11-official/

Fisker called its vehicles "software-based cars" and they weren't kidding. Without continuous software updates and server access, those Fisker Ocean SUVs are turning into bricks. What's more, the company designed the car from the ground up to make any kind of independent service and support into a felony, by wrapping the whole thing in overlapping layers of IP. That means that no one can step in with a module that jailbreaks the Fisker and drops in an alternative firmware that will keep the fleet rolling.

This is the third EV risk – not just finance, not just charger infrastructure, but the possibility that any whizzy, cool new EV company will go bust and brick your $70k cleantech investment, irreversibly transforming your car into 5,500 lb worth of e-waste.

This confers a huge advantage onto the big automakers like VW, Kia, Ford, etc. Tesla gets a pass, too, because it achieved critical mass before people started to wise up to the risk of twiddling and bricking. If you're making a serious investment in a product you expect to use for 20 years, are you really gonna buy it from a two-year old startup with six months' capital in the bank?

The incumbency advantage here means that the big automakers won't have any reason to sink a lot of money into R&D, because they won't have to worry about hungry startups with cool new ideas eating their lunches. They can maintain the cozy cartel that has seen cars stagnate for decades, with the majority of "innovation" taking the form of shitty, extractive and ill-starred ideas like touchscreen controls and an accelerator pedal that you have to rent by the month:

https://www.theverge.com/2022/11/23/23474969/mercedes-car-subscription-faster-acceleration-feature-price

Put that way, it's clear that this isn't an EV problem, it's a cleantech problem. Cleantech has all the problems of EVs: it requires a large capital expenditure, it will be "smart," and it is expected to last for decades. That's rooftop solar, heat-pumps, smart thermostat sensor arrays, and home storage batteries.

And just as with EVs, policymakers have focused on infrastructure and affordability without paying any attention to the enshittification risks. Your rooftop solar will likely be controlled via a Solaredge box – a terrible technology that stops working if it can't reach the internet for a protracted period (that's right, your home solar stops working if the grid fails!).

I found this out the hard way during the covid lockdowns, when Solaredge terminated its 3G cellular contract and notified me that I would have to replace the modem in my system or it would stop working. This was at the height of the supply-chain crisis and there was a long waiting list for any replacement modems, with wifi cards (that used your home internet rather than a cellular connection) completely sold out for most of a year.

There are good reasons to connect rooftop solar arrays to the internet – it's not just so that Solaredge can enshittify my service. Solar arrays that coordinate with the grid can make it much easier and safer to manage a grid that was designed for centralized power production and is being retrofitted for distributed generation, one roof at a time.

But when the imperatives of extraction and efficiency go to war, extraction always wins. After all, the Solaredge system is already in place and solar installers are largely ignorant of, and indifferent to, the reasons that a homeowner might want to directly control and monitor their system via local controls that don't roundtrip through the cloud.

Somewhere in the hindbrain of any prospective solar purchaser is the experience with bricked and enshittified "smart" gadgets, and the knowledge that anything they buy from a cool startup with lots of great ideas for improving production, monitoring, and/or costs poses the risk of having your 20 year investment bricked after just a few years – and, thanks to the extractive imperative, no one will be able to step in and restore your ex-solar array to good working order.

I make the majority of my living from books, which means that my pay is very "lumpy" – I get large sums when I publish a book and very little in between. For many years, I've used these payments to make big purchases, rather than financing them over long periods where I can't predict my income. We've used my book payments to put in solar, then an induction stove, then a battery. We used one to buy out the lease on our EV. And just a month ago, we used the money from my upcoming Enshittification book to put in a heat pump (with enough left over to pay for a pair of long-overdue cataract surgeries, scheduled for the fall).

When we started shopping for heat pumps, it was clear that this was a very exciting sector. First of all, heat pumps are kind of magic, so efficient and effective it's almost surreal. But beyond the basic tech – which has been around since the late 1940s – there is a vast ferment of cool digital features coming from exciting and innovative startups.

By nature, I'm the kid of person who likes these digital features. I started out as a computer programmer, and while I haven't written production code since the previous millennium, I've been in and around the tech industry for my whole adult life. But when it came time to buy a heat-pump – an investment that I expected to last for 20 years or more – there was no way I was going to buy one of these cool new digitally enhanced pumps, no matter how much the reviewers loved them. Sure, they'd work well, but it's precisely because I'm so knowledgeable about high tech that I could see that they would fail very, very badly.

You may think EVs are bullshit, and they are – though there will always be room for some personal vehicles, and it's better for people in transit deserts to drive EVs than gas-guzzlers. You may think rooftop solar is a dead-end and be all-in on utility scale solar (I think we need both, especially given the grid-disrupting extreme climate events on our horizon). But there's still a wide range of cleantech – induction tops, heat pumps, smart thermostats – that are capital intensive, have a long duty cycle, and have good reasons to be digitized and networked.

Take home storage batteries: your utility can push its rate card to your battery every time they change their prices, and your battery can use that information to decide when to let your house tap into the grid, and when to switch over to powering your home with the solar you've stored up during the day. This is a very old and proven pattern in tech: the old Fidonet BBS network used a version of this, with each BBS timing its calls to other nodes to coincide with the cheapest long-distance rates, so that messages for distant systems could be passed on:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/FidoNet

Cleantech is a very dynamic sector, even if its triumphs are largely unheralded. There's a quiet revolution underway in generation, storage and transmission of renewable power, and a complimentary revolution in power-consumption in vehicles and homes:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/12/s-curve/#anything-that-cant-go-on-forever-eventually-stops

But cleantech is too important to leave to the incumbents, who are addicted to enshittification and planned obsolescence. These giant, financialized firms lack the discipline and culture to make products that have the features – and cost savings – to make them appealing to the very wide range of buyers who must transition as soon as possible, for the sake of the very planet.

It's not enough for our policymakers to focus on financing and infrastructure barriers to cleantech adoption. We also need a policy-level response to enshittification.

Ideally, every cleantech device would be designed so that it was impossible to enshittify – which would also make it impossible to brick:

Based on free software (best), or with source code escrowed with a trustee who must release the code if the company enters administration (distant second-best);

All patents in a royalty-free patent-pool (best); or in a trust that will release them into a royalty-free pool if the company enters administration (distant second-best);

No parts-pairing or other DRM permitted (best); or with parts-pairing utilities available to all parties on a reasonable and non-discriminatory basis (distant second-best);

All diagnostic and error codes in the public domain, with all codes in the clear within the device (best); or with decoding utilities available on demand to all comers on a reasonable and non-discriminatory basis (distant second-best).

There's an obvious business objection to this: it will reduce investment in innovative cleantech because investors will perceive these restrictions as limits on the expected profits of their portfolio companies. It's true: these measures are designed to prevent rent-extraction and other enshittificatory practices by cleantech companies, and to the extent that investors are counting on enshittification rents, this might prevent them from investing.

But that has to be balanced against the way that a general prohibition on enshittificatory practices will inspire consumer confidence in innovative and novel cleantech products, because buyers will know that their investments will be protected over the whole expected lifespan of the product, even if the startup goes bust (nearly every startup goes bust). These measures mean that a company with a cool product will have a much larger customer-base to sell to. Those additional sales more than offset the loss of expected revenue from cheating and screwing your customers by twiddling them to death.

There's also an obvious legal objection to this: creating these policies will require a huge amount of action from Congress and the executive branch, a whole whack of new rules and laws to make them happen, and each will attract court-challenges.

That's also true, though it shouldn't stop us from trying to get legal reforms. As a matter of public policy, it's terrible and fucked up that companies can enshittify the things we buy and leave us with no remedy.

However, we don't have to wait for legal reform to make this work. We can take a shortcut with procurement – the things governments buy with public money. The feds, the states and localities buy a lot of cleantech: for public facilities, for public housing, for public use. Prudent public policy dictates that governments should refuse to buy any tech unless it is designed to be enshittification-resistant.

This is an old and honorable tradition in policymaking. Lincoln insisted that the rifles he bought for the Union Army come with interoperable tooling and ammo, for obvious reasons. No one wants to be the Commander in Chief who shows up on the battlefield and says, "Sorry, boys, war's postponed, our sole supplier decided to stop making ammunition."

By creating a market for enshittification-proof cleantech, governments can ensure that the public always has the option of buying an EV that can't be bricked even if the maker goes bust, a heat-pump whose digital features can be replaced or maintained by a third party of your choosing, a solar controller that coordinates with the grid in ways that serve their owners – not the manufacturers' shareholders.

We're going to have to change a lot to survive the coming years. Sure, there's a lot of scary ways that things can go wrong, but there's plenty about our world that should change, and plenty of ways those changes could be for the better. It's not enough for policymakers to focus on ensuring that we can afford to buy whatever badly thought-through, extractive tech the biggest companies want to foist on us – we also need a focus on making cleantech fit for purpose, truly smart, reliable and resilient.

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/26/unplanned-obsolescence/#better-micetraps

Image: 臺灣古寫真上色 (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Raid_on_Kagi_City_1945.jpg

Grendelkhan (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Ground_mounted_solar_panels.gk.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Ten-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, SMUT, Throat Fucking, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Dirty Talk, Toxic Behaviour, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Jealousy, Possessive Behaviours, Manipulation, Humiliation, Begging, Gagging, Oral (f & m rec), Spanking/Belting, Sexual Punishment, Sexual Aggression, CNC, DubCon.

****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

Dread gripped your insides, twisting like a coiled snake ready to strike. The weight of the impending confrontation pressed upon you, a leaden heaviness settling deep in your stomach. Last night had been sleepless, the weight of Mattheo's threat lingering in your mind like a haunting spectre. It wasn't necessarily fear that gnawed at your insides, but a potent blend of anxiety and worry.

The mere thought of Mattheo retaliating against last nights events, potentially drawing his brother Tom into an even deeper tangled web of suspicion, sent shivers down your spine. You knew Tom was already suspicious, already clearly had some sort of inclination about what was going on between you and his brother, and fear sunk its talons into your neck just thinking about what could happen if Mattheo lashed out at him again after last night. The timing would just be all too convenient to happen twice in a row like that.

In the hushed confines of the empty classroom, as you awaited Mattheo's attendance for Wednesday's tutoring session, every second seemed to stretch into eternity. The air hung heavy with anticipation, your breaths shallow and hurried--every creak of the floor beneath your restless pacing echoed like an ominous drumbeat. Your heart thudded in your chest, its frantic rhythm reverberating in your throat, each pulse a reminder of the impending confrontation. Fingers, usually steady, now trembled with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation, tangible proof of the mounting tension in your chest.

But then, before you could even process it, the door creaked open, the sound slicing through the heavy silence in the room like a warning. You turned, your heart skipping a beat when you saw Mattheo's disheveled figure framed by the dim light filtering in from the corridor. His white dress shirt was stained with patches of blood, his appearance marred by the evidence of a recent altercation. His eyes, normally sharp and piercing, were now ablaze with a fierce intensity, burning with emotions that he kept tightly concealed.

As he stepped inside, the atmosphere seemed to shift, the air growing thick and suffocating. Each movement he made was deliberate, calculated, as if he was conducting an unspoken symphony of power and control. With a fluid motion, he started to loosen his tie, his hands moving with a grace that contrasted sharply with the aggressive energy radiating from him. The room seemed to shrink in his presence, the walls closing in as if acknowledging his dominance.

You stood frozen, your gaze locked onto his, unable to tear yourself away despite the unsettling mixture of emotions that gripped you. Mattheo's gaze bored into yours, his eyes holding a storm of emotions--anger, frustration, and something deeper, something you couldn't quite pinpoint. The weight of his unspoken words hung heavily between you, the silence ringing in your ears like a deafening roar, suffocating the space and leaving you feeling like you were standing on the edge of a precipice.

With each step he took toward you, the energy in the room grew more electric, his presence overwhelming. The intensity of his stare made it hard to breathe, as if he could see right through you, peeling away layers until your soul lay bare before him. It was a confrontation without words, a battle fought in the silent language of unspoken emotions, and you stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to break free from the magnetic pull of his furious gaze.

Your voice quaked. "Mattheo-"

"No," he said, cutting you off, his voice slicing through the air like a blade. "No talking, Raven, not tonight."

You felt a lump forming in your throat, a mixture of frustration and confusion bubbling within you. You clenched your fists, trying to suppress the words that begged to spill out, but his resolute demeanor silenced any protests before they could escape your lips. As Mattheo came to a halt directly in front of you, his bloodied emerald Slytherin tie sitting loosely around his neck now--he wasted zero time before he seized your hips with a motion as swift as a striking snake, his grip so strong it felt like your bones might shatter within his grasp.

Every muscle in your body coiled like a tightly wound spring, bracing for whatever the fuck he'd do next, but nothing could prepare you for the feeling that would erupt through you as he leaned in--inhaling a sharp breath, his exhale hot against the sensitive skin of your neck. The sharp scent of alcohol wafted from him, swirling around you, adding to the already charged atmosphere.

His head dipped, finding the hollow of your shoulder, his dark, curly hair grazing your skin like a whispering caress. A shiver traced the length of your spine as his proximity engulfed you, leaving you both exhilarated and trapped in the potent grip of his presence. You swallowed, trying to steady your trembling fingers that hung limply at your sides.

"You're drunk..." you managed to utter, your voice barely audible in the charged air around you. It was fucking Wednesday. "What happened to exercising your demons, Mattheo..."

"Oh, I am," Mattheo murmured against your neck, his lips brushing your skin in a heated caress. "I got them running around the castle right now, doing laps...."

Despite his effort to suppress his fury with cunning sarcasm, the energy radiating from him was palpable, a stormy intensity that crackled in the air around you. His voice was low, almost a growl, and you could feel the weight of his words settle on your skin.

"I...you..." you stammered, your voice barely audible, your mind a chaotic whirlwind of emotions. His proximity was overwhelming, his strange demeanour leaving you entirely at a loss for words--yet there was one thought that seemingly wouldn't leave your mind. "Matt...please tell me this blood isn't from Tom..."

"I said no fucking talking, Raven..." Mattheo's fingers dug into your skin, a painful pinch that threatened to draw a cry from your lips. A sharp gasp escaped you as he swiftly maneuvered his hand around your back, his fingers asserting a firm, possessive hold on your ass. "That mouth only has one fucking purpose tonight...it's been far too long since I've had those pretty lips around my cock..."

Mattheo's presence was a blazing inferno, searing heat that enveloped you entirely, making your skin prickle with anticipation. He maneuvered you both with an unyielding force, guiding you until the edge of the desk met your ass, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips. Both of his hands, firm and possessive, found their place on your backside, pulling you snugly against his muscular frame. A sense of foreboding settling deep within your lungs, a weighty anticipation that gripped your every breath.

Despite the palpable tension, you couldn't resist the compulsion to probe further, pushing his boundaries even as the atmosphere crackled with escalating intensity.

"Mattheo, please..." your voice brushed against his cheek like a gentle breeze, your fingers winding into his hair, pulling on the tousled strands in an urgent plea to lock eyes, your heart racing with anxiety. "Please just give me an answer...Tom was skeptical-"

With a sudden, unsettling intensity, Mattheo's demeanor transformed--whatever restraint he was previously maintaining had now completely vanished as he swiftly pivoted you around, his hands unrelenting as he pressed your hips forcefully against the desk. The cool wood bit into your skin as he loomed behind you, his body molding to yours with possessive insistence. One hand coiled around your throat, pulling you back against his chest, while the other traveled up the front of your body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

"Say his fucking name again and I will not hesitate to bend you over this desk and fuck you until the only name you remember is mine..." he pulled you impossibly close, his breath a sultry growl against your ear. "You'll be so fucking full of me, Raven...you'll be so fucking full of my cum you'll feel fucking empty without it...you'll fucking crave my cock...you'll be begging for me to get inside you..."

His free hand explored your body, its fingers skillfully finding every contour, moving purposefully to your tits, caressing and squeezing once he'd reached them. He pulled you tighter, hugging you flush to his front, his insistent erection pressing tight against your ass. A delightful buzz tingled on your skin from his grip around your throat, rendering you utterly helpless, and all that escaped your lips was a soft, pathetic whimper, surrendering to his control.

"Do you feel what you do to me?" He murmured, the alcohol on his tongue swarming your ear. "You're all I can fucking think about."

The words brought a wave of heat crashing over your body.

"Matt-" you said, fighting against his hand, his name hiccuped between your gasp for air when he increased his grip. “-thèo..."

"You fucking haunt me," he said, jerking his hips into your ass, his painfully hard length jamming into your backside. You whimpered as the force of his pelvis drove you harder against the desk. "I've made myself cum to the mere thought of fucking you so many times, Raven...fuck, if you were any other slut I would have fucked you stupid by now..."

His voice was dark and deadly, so quiet that you were almost certain you weren't hearing him correctly, the pounding of your heart drowning out the edges of his syllables, his hand working to untuck your blouse from your skirt before slipping underneath it--igniting goosebumps on your flesh as he went.

"Oh..." the word was a moan as it left your lips, his fingers brushing over your stiffening nipple. "Shit-"

The fingers at your throat increased their pressure, choking your words. "I told you I have a clamouring fucking desire to ruin you...and believe me, I do...but it's not enough to just ruin you, Raven...It's like I need to fucking own you, possess you...there can't be anyone else..."

In defiance of your good judgment, you clenched, a shiver of longing fluttering over you. Mattheo's large palm squeezed your other tit now, kneading it in his hand until he could feel the peak of your nipple. His thumb brushed over it, and you held back a whine, wriggling against him.

"Mattheo-" his name left your lips like a breathless sin, as though it was the only word your pathetic, lust-filled mind knew how to say.

"You know I could be with any girl I fucking want, Raven...any single fucking one..." he murmured, circling the hardening point with the pad of his finger, sparks of pleasure lingering in its path. "I seen your little friend looking at me the other day...what's her head like, hm?"

Ignoring the squirming in between your thighs, you rolled your eyes, a flutter of uncontrollable irritation flowing through you. "Go to hell-"

He answered your snark with another harsh jab of his bulge. "Yeah, you don't like that, do you..." the hand on your throat slid up to pinch your jaw open, two fingers shoving past your teeth and depressing your tongue. You caught a gag when he reached toward the back of your throat. "You wouldn't like it if there was another girl kissing me good night, would you? Another girl sucking me off...swallowing my cum..."

You tried to call him an asshole, but all that came out was, "Ah-houh."

"Mhm, I know..." he snickered, pressing further into your body, hunched over you like you were his next meal. "You're going to fix that situation with my brother, or else I will...you have one fucking week..."

Your heart hammered, your pulse flying, your body trembling against him. His teeth nipped your ear, your head spinning with the onslaught of his power.

"Because this..." this hand on your breast made a path toward the band of your skirt, and you shuddered, bucking away from his touch when he skimmed the sensitive skin of your belly.

"...little cunt..." his hand slipped under the seam of your panties, long, thick fingers easily reaching the warmth of your slit, resting on the outer folds, and you whimpered, wiggling your hips as you sought out his touch.

"...is mine..." one finger parted your lips, slicking itself on your wetness, dragging and catching over your swollen, stiff clit and pulling a low moan from your throat.

You were gelatin in his arms. All you could do was bob your head against his grip, tongue writhing to speak.

"Yeah, that's fucking right..." he said, tracing tiny circles around your clit while his length pressed against your ass. "This tight little pussy wants to cum for me, doesn't it?" You groaned--louder than you wanted--when he sped his pace on your nub, and he squeezed your jaw, voice a deep growl against your ear. "Then you better prove you deserve it."

He relinquished his hold on you, his fingers slowly sliding away from you body as he took a deliberate step back. This subtle retreat granted you just enough space to pivot back towards him. In the dim light, his eyes appeared as profound as the obsidian night, their intensity softened by an unexpected vulnerability. It was a facet of him you had never glimpsed, hidden beneath the layers of his usual overbearing arrogance.

A hushed tension hung in the air as his gaze descended to trace the contours of your lips, a magnetic pull drawing him toward you. His own lips, parted with anticipation, met yours in a tender yet fervent kiss--a languid grace encompassing the way he explored your mouth, a delicate dance that left you breathless. The lingering taste of alcohol on his tongue only heightened the intoxicating sensation, sending your senses reeling as he skillfully slipped past your teeth, all before pulling away again.

"Get on your knees for me, pretty girl..." he murmured, his hand finding your hair and directing your head down, a huff of exasperation leaving his nose as you did what he said without question. "There we go...so good for me..."

As you knelt before him, your heart thundered in your chest, its beats so forceful you feared it might shatter your sternum. Perplexed, you couldn't pinpoint the source of your unease. It wasn't the first time you'd assumed such a position for Mattheo Riddle, yet an unfamiliar tension hung in the air tonight. His unpredictable demeanor had your entire body on edge, amplifying your nervousness to an unprecedented level.

"We're going to do things a little different tonight..." he purred, his hand in your hair pulling away to stroke your cheek with two rough fingers as he peered down at you, dark eyes burning wounds into your skin. "Unbutton your shirt for me."

Your heart skipped, your senses reeling, but with trembling fingers, you immediately did as he said, as though you were being controlled by a remote in his hands. Mattheo hummed in approval as you got down to the last few buttons, his eyes never once leaving yours, the muscles in his jaw clenching and his throat bobbing as he swallowed. When you were done, you met his eyes again, the intensity making your thighs clench in need, and a smirk teased his lips as he reached for the tie sitting loose around his neck; holding it between his battered fist.

When he spoke again, you almost fainted. "Take off my belt, princess..."

A visceral tension gripped you, twisting your stomach into a knot so tight it felt like your insides might unravel. Your hands trembled like fragile autumn leaves in the wind as you reached for the metal latch on his sturdy leather belt. With cautious fingers, you tugged, undoing the buckle carefully and pulling on it until it slithered free from around his waist. Gripping it tightly in both hands, you met his gaze once more, your eyes locking, accompanied by enough force to shatter glass.

Mattheo delicately lifted the tie, guiding it towards your mouth with a gentle touch, your lips parting in a silent understanding. He skillfully threaded it between them, the smooth fabric caressing your skin. With practiced hands, he wrapped it around the back of your head, the silk cool against your skin. With a deft motion, he fashioned it into a comfortable knot, ensuring it held securely, before he bent down and gripped your arm, pulling you back up to your feet.

"Bad girls get punished, Raven..." he murmured, his lips grazing your jawline, one hand on your hip, the other reaching for the leather seated in your hands. "Take your punishment like the good girl I know you are, and I'll reward you..."

As the leather slipped from your hands, Mattheo pulled back, something flickering behind his eyes that made your stomach leap up into your throat. He met your gaze, searching your face for any sign of hesitation or fear, before he urged you to spin around.

"Bend over the desk," he husked, running his hand up your back, the gentle touch igniting flames on your flesh as he urged you down against the desk, the cool chill of the wood igniting a shudder through your entire body. "Down on your elbows...there we go..."

Mattheo groaned, low in his chest, the sound reverberating through the quiet room. Drool was already threatening to spill from the sides of your lips, the taste of blood lingering in your mouth as the bloodied tie sat tightly between your teeth--your breath hitching in your lungs as you felt two large hands run down the sides of your body, tracing your curves with determination as he positioned himself behind you, pressing his bulge against your ass until his hands met your hips and he pulled away; finding the hem of your skirt and slowly flipping it up to expose your backside, wasting absolutely zero time at all before his hands found the plump flesh, squeezing and groping like his life depended on it.

"Fucking hell, Raven..." he groaned, his voice tight and hoarse with need. "You look so fucking good bent over...I wish I could keep you here, just like this..."

You moaned involuntarily, a tornado of emotions swirling inside your brain. You felt as though you were in sensory overload, so many firsts happening at once.

"Spread those thighs," a calloused palm dipped between your legs, urging them further apart, your fingernails digging into the skin of your palms, your entire body trembling as the heat of Mattheo's power turned suffocating. "Good fucking girl..."

Your breath hitched, feeling his thumb grazing dangerously close to your cunt, resisting the urge to buck toward his hand--desperate for connection. The heat between your thighs was insatiable at this point, and the teasing was driving you insane. Snapping you from your thoughts, there was a jingling of a buckle, followed by a loud, sickening crack--and you shrieked, heart thumping in your throat, squirming with force to attempt to get away from what was to follow.

"Ah, ah," Mattheo huffed, pressing a palm down on your lower back, holding you firm against the desk. You felt the smooth leather being dragged across your flesh, the sensations making your entire body flinch.

"I'm going to bruise this beautiful ass, and you're going to thank me for it, because that's what bad, filthy girls deserve..." he paused, as though waiting for your protest, and when it never came, he shifted his body, looming over you. "Do you understand me, princess?"

Do you understand? Do you fucking understand? No, any sort of understanding eluded you entirely. In truth, the unfolding scenario baffled you--you didn't know how the fuck you'd gone from being his tutor, someone who could barely tolerate his daily presence, to this precarious moment--bent over the fucking desk, about to be belted by him for an issue involving his own brother. You didn't understand any of this, and yet, not one single part of you wanted to stop it.

In response, you nodded, and Mattheo hummed, seemingly satisfied.

A heavy silence settled around you, in wake of his voice. Every sinew in your body tensed with anticipation, your eyelids squeezed shut in grim expectancy. The air hung heavy, pregnant with the impending storm, while inside you, tension wound tighter than ever, prickling your skin like sharp thorns digging into flesh. Then, like a sudden lightning strike, a searing bolt of pain cracked across your backside, tearing a scream from your lips. Despite the muffling effect of the tie clenched between your teeth, the sound reverberated through the room, shattering the silence.

Mattheo, his grip firm, yanked your hair, pulling you forcefully against his chest--his lips brushing against your ear.

"Do that again and I'll give you something to really fucking scream about, Raven..." he snarled, his fingers pinching your scalp. "Shut up and bite the tie. To five."

In a swift, unyielding motion, he thrust you back onto the desk, his hand firmly grasping your head, forcing your cheek against the chilling surface of the wood. You squirmed beneath his unrelenting hold, your eyelids clenched shut as you awaited the searing sting, but Mattheo didn’t make you wait for very long before the smooth leather of his belt cracked against your skin, leaving behind a trail of fiery agony that surged through your limbs.

Instinctively, your teeth sank into his tie, muffling the primal scream that threatened to escape your lips. An electric jolt of pain rippled through you, yet amidst the torment, a strange sense of resilience emerged. Inhaling sharply, you found the strength to steel yourself, your body absorbing the pain while your spirit endured the storm.

"Mm." Mattheo hummed, running his rough palm over the red, sweltering skin, squeezing a cheek in one of his big hands, soothing the welts. "I gotta say, I fucking love watching you squirm, princess..."

Your face reddened, a pang of an unknown emotion in your chest, eagerly squeezing your eyes shut as he pulled his hand off your flesh, the lack of movement and audible sounds in the room driving your nerves into a panicked frenzy. And then, before you could process it, you felt it again--the pain forcing a choked cry to leave your throat.

"Such a shame I have to ruin this perfect ass--" crack.

Your cunt twinged at his words, fire flashing your flesh, and he he struck you again, swift and merciless, leaving no room for a response--only a ragged, involuntary squeal escaping your throat in response to the searing pain.

"Such a shame I have to remind you of your place--" crack.

You whimpered, your body trembling with a mixture of pain and bewildering emotions. A twisted cocktail of sensations engulfed your mind, leaving you conflicted. You cursed your own body, disturbed by the inexplicable response, your senses entangled in a blend of desire and humiliation. Your core pulsed with an insatiable need, aching for attention, craving release despite the twisted circumstances.

Confusion swirled in your veins, leaving your head spinning. How could you find arousal in something so humiliating? The paradox gnawed at your thoughts, yet an undeniable part of you craved the intensity, leaving you inexplicably craving more.

Above all else, this was degrading. Yet, you were fucking throbbing for it.

"...remind you who you fucking belong to--" crack.

With the final, brutal crack of the belt, the metal buckle seared into your skin, imprinting its icy mark. The sharp, biting sensation wrenched a primal groan from your throat, your body convulsing in response. Drool spilled from your lips, tears welling in your eyes--and the room reverberated with the metallic clatter as Mattheo discarded the belt, his hand moving swiftly to find the inflamed skin, fingers grazing the wounded area with a mixture of tenderness and possessiveness.

His thumb traced the path where you were certain blood had been drawn, a deliberate gesture that seemed to collect the evidence upon his skin. In a sudden, commanding movement, he pulled you away from the desk, forcing you to face him. Within the depths of his gaze, you glimpsed a twisted satisfaction entwined with something infinitely darker. His grin took on a sinister edge as he sucked his thumb into his mouth, the taste of your blood lingering on his lips. It was a macabre ritual, sending shivers down your spine, as if he had claimed a piece of you in a way that transcended the physical realm.

With a deliberate slowness, he withdrew his thumb from his mouth, his unyielding eyes locked onto yours, a challenge simmering beneath the surface. His fingers traced the path of the tie between your teeth, pulling it down methodically until it hung around your neck. Gently, he wiped the drool from the corners of your lips, his touch meticulous and strangely intimate. His eyes scrutinized your face with a depth of focus that both unsettled and intrigued you. There was an enigmatic intensity in his gaze, a complexity that left you partially terrified and yet undeniably aroused.

In that moment, you found yourself entangled in a labyrinth of emotions, your mind racing to comprehend the enigma of the boy standing before you.

His voice was a hoarse whisper. "What do you say, Raven..."

You swallowed, throat more arid than the desert, heart still pounding like a base drum. "Thank you, Mattheo..."

Mattheo's hands found their way to your face, his touch firm yet strangely gentle as his fingers slid sensually through your hair. Without a word, he crushed his lips against yours, a hungry and urgent kiss that left you breathless. His mouth dominated yours, his tongue probing with a rough insistence, exploring every corner of your mouth, caressing your own tongue in a dance of desire.

A low, needy moan escaped your lips, muffled by the intensity of the kiss, while your fingers clenched his shirt, desperately seeking an anchor in the whirlwind of sensations. With a commanding strength, he urged you backward, his grip on your hips unwavering as he effortlessly lifted you onto the desk. A soft whimper slipped from your throat as the supple flesh of your backside met the unyielding surface of the wood.

He moved down your neck, his plush lips leaving a hot trail of kisses down your chin, jaw, licking and sucking at the every inch of skin he could, creating planes of goosebumps across your flesh. His tongue drew a line across your collarbone, and he fell to your breasts, tugging down your bra and taking one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling it. You moaned, meeting his gaze, and he rolled his tongue around the hardened bud, sending shivers through you, straight to your clit.

Exasperated, he pulled away--dark eyes scanning your heaving, lust-possessed form.

"You're beautiful," he breathed.

You were speechless, beginning to tremble, and Mattheo Riddle dropped to his knees between your legs, urging your thighs further apart on the desk, long fingers clutching your hips. Your cunt clenched in anticipation, but your teeth were clacking from anxiety, and he met your eyes.

"Relax," he said.

You made an attempt to nod, but your chin quivered despite your resolve. It wasn't an issue of trust, nor were you overtly frightened. Yet, the sheer intimacy of his presence, hovering intimately close to your most vulnerable parts, left your nerves frayed and your composure on the edge of unraveling.

"Raven." Mattheo glared at you, gouging the flesh of your hips hard enough to leave bruises. "Relax. You're safe with me..."

"I-I know..." you whimpered.

You shut your eyes tightly and drew in a slow breath through your nose, holding it in an attempt to steady the quivering in your body. You waited, holding onto the breath, until the tremors subsided before finally exhaling, releasing the tension that had gripped you.

"Good girl," he said. "Now look at me."

You opened your eyes, and his gaze locked with yours as his warm mouth started to suck at the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, extracting a mewl from you. He smirked against you, moving closer to your center, and you bit your lip, walls contracting again with desire. As he drew closer, the curls of his messy hair tickled your skin, and then he shifted a hand, urging your panties to the side before he skipped his tongue across your outer folds, making your hips buck toward him.

"Filthy thing," he said, and pressed his full, soft lips to your pussy, dragging his flat tongue along the slit.

“F-fuck," electricity shot through you, wriggling within his grasp, your fingers clenched tightly, entwining in the disheveled tangle of his hair.

Riddle muffled a laugh with your flesh, lavishing your cunt with deep, slow kisses, tongue sliding inside of your folds, lapping the juices at your core, teasing your outer lips with languid licks. He moved away from your center, his mouth back to crawling along your thighs, and you complained with a grumble. In response, he took the tip of his tongue and flicked your clit.

"Shit..." you moaned, rocking your hips toward him. You stared at him with shining, pleading eyes. "Matty...please, please..."

"There's my girl..." he purred, "I love when you beg for me, Raven...you've been so fucking good for me..."

Before you could response, he growled and sucked your clit into his mouth, and you cried out, body jerking, but he held you fast, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub. A moan left you as you gyrated your hips, warmth spreading out across you, fingertips and toes buzzing with bliss. Mattheo played his tongue against your swollen clit, your walls throbbing as your pleasure continued to build.

"Oh, fuck," you said, head hanging to the side. "Oh, Gods...Matty..."

The vibrations of his moan reverberated through your pussy, and he sucked harder, his unyielding stare never wavered, his golden-brown eyes digging into the depths of your soul. Each breath came faster, a delicious surge of pleasure coursing through your veins, building an exquisite tension that carried you higher and higher, inching you closer to the precipice of bliss. Mattheo buried his face into your cunt, lips tight on your clit, tongue batting the bundle of nerves.

Incessant moans escaped your chest with every ragged breath, jaw hanging open, gripping his hair like you could pull it from his scalp. "I...holy fuck...Mattheo..."

"That's it," he purred, the praise in his tone sparking heat in your lungs. "Cum for me, baby..."

A tidal wave of euphoria crashed over you, the walls of your senses pulsating, your body wracked with the convulsions of a long-delayed orgasm. Your vision blurred into white nothingness as you threw your head back, a crescendo of unintelligible curses escaping your lips in a primal symphony. Mattheo held onto your spasming legs, his ministrations expertly guiding you to the pinnacle of your pleasure, drawing out every last exquisite tremor, tip of his tongue sliding up your slit to your mound as you finally returned to reality. Your chest swelled as you caught your breath, refocusing on Mattheo's glistening face.

Your head rolled, lids fluttering open, hands petting at his hair. "Fuck, Matt-"

"Shh." He licked his lips, gaze liquefying your centre. "We aren't done yet, princess...keep being good for me..."

Entirely speechless, you nodded, unable to peel your eyes from his as he pulled you off the desk, dropping his hands from you as he moved to the buttons on his trousers, swiftly undoing them before pulling them down his thighs along with his boxers--his thick, throbbing cock springing free, tip glistening with precum, his head falling back in relief as he wrapped his fist around its girth, stroking slowly as you instinctively gathered yourself in front of his feet.

Something was swirling inside you, something primal, something hungry--and your hands found his thighs, slowly trailing up, peering up at him with a wide-eyed gaze; your voice alien to your own fucking ears.

"Please, Matty..." you purred. "Please let me suck your cock...please let me swallow-"

"Fucking hell..." Mattheo seized your hair, his actions driven by a raw and primal intensity as he directed his cock toward your lips. "Show me what that filthy mouth does, baby..."

You parted your lips, and Mattheo's grip on your hair tightened, pushing himself into you. Without thinking, you groaned on his length, legs writhing with arousal as he inched himself along your squirming tongue. Mattheo was biting his lip, watching your own lips stretch around his dick, watching you stare up at him with large, obedient eyes. He throbbed in your mouth, and you swallowed, the pool of your spit mixing with pearls of salty pre-cum.

Mattheo grunted, pulling out and thrusting back in, and in and out again, lips parting while you whimpered and choked on the size of his cock.

"Poor thing," he sneered. "Am I too big for your dirty little mouth?"

Nodding, you attempted to groan your agreement, but found yourself muffled by a deep thrust into your throat. You retched, trying to get off of his length, but another hand seized the back of your head, holding you there, tears and drool sliding to your jaw while he rocked into you. Every noise from your chest was a stifled whimper, gagging with every deep thrust, but he was ruthless, fingers burrowed into your face, cock fucking hard into your throat, and when you squeezed shut your lids, he growled.

"Look at me, Raven." he ordered. "Look at me when I'm throat fucking you. Know whose cum you're about to taste.

You complied, locking eyes with him through a haze, your throat raw and tender, lips and tongue going numb with his brutal thrusting.

"Good girl," he moaned, "so good...fuck..."

Riddle shifted, craning your head back, plunging deeper into your neck, seething in pleasure when you whined on his cock. His breath was coming fast, his dick pulsing urgently in your mouth, and then he was cursing, hissing your name, hips jerking in sloppy thrusts. He pulled out, fisting his length.

"Open."

You did, and he growled, shooting hot ropes of white onto your mouth and eyes, hips still rolling while he fucked his hand through the end of his climax. As he caught his breath, he looked down at you, your jaw jacked open, his bitter cum collecting on your tongue and sticking one of your lids shut.

"Go on," he huffed. "Swallow it."

Groaning, you swallowed, eye twitching as it opened despite the pull of his release on your lashes. Gasping for air, your head hung low as Mattheo released your hair. His eyes never wavered, attentively watching your every move as you gradually pulled yourself up from the floor. Meanwhile, his hands deftly moved to adjust his pants, restoring a semblance of decency.

Your own hands trembled as you fumbled to button up your shirt, a sense of vulnerability lingering in the air. Mattheo closed the distance between you, his tall figure casting a shadow over you in the charged silence. With a slow, deliberate movement, he used his finger to sweep away any traces of his release from your face, his eyes smoldering with intensity and a smirk playing on his lips as he directed his finger toward your parted lips.

Without hesitation, you welcomed it between your teeth, your mouth enveloping it with a mix of compliance and desire. Holding his gaze, you sucked gently, the unspoken tension crackling between you. He watched, his lips parting slightly, as you willingly took his finger into your mouth, the connection lingering until he slowly withdrew it, the intensity of the moment hanging between you like a charged current.

"Shit..." he murmured, glimpsing your lips.

"Shit." You repeated, glimpsing his.

The charged silence hung heavily in the air, enveloping both of you as you stood there, locked in a wordless exchange. Countless unspoken words seemed to swirl between you, filling the space with their weight, yet neither of you dared to vocalize them, opting for the sanctuary of silence. After what felt like an eternity, Mattheo finally exhaled, the sound carrying the weight of the unspoken. With a resigned gesture, he moved towards his chair and sank into it, the weariness evident in his posture.

You followed suit, collecting yourself, and Riddle finally broke the silence.

“This isn’t his blood.” He said, and relief almost immediately flooded you. "One week, Raven."

————————

Find chapter eleven->

[ssahotchnerr]

I saw your request for aaron hotchner valentine’s day! maybe an aaron hotchner x bau wife reader and they are all away on a case and they’re still there on valentine’s day and it’s been a rough case and y/n has been extremely stressed but Aaron makes sure she still feels special and treats her to a nice dinner and surprises her with flowers

too married

happy vday pt 2!!! cw; fem!reader, your usual cm case descriptions, mentions of food/alcohol, fluff <333

"it's disheartening, isn't it?"

aaron hummed from in front of you, fiddling with the key to grant the two of you access into your hotel room. "hm?"

"that we're here. on valentine's day." you could laugh if pushed, your voice sharp and inches away from wavering.

no matter how little the inflect, and even if you hadn't shown it at all, aaron still noticed it. he paused and turned back to you, a forlorn expression on his face. "sweetheart-"

"it's fine." you brought your hands to your face, frustratedly and tiredly rubbing your eyes for a moment. "sorry, i'm just looking for something to complain about. it's been a long day."

"a hard day." aaron added in your regard, reaching out to touch your arm soothingly.

your current unsub clearly hadn't felt the universal love within the air; he's been most brutal the bau had endured in a while. full of mutilation, a sickening signature, devolving by the minute.

truthfully it had gotten to you; you were finding it extremely difficult to compartmentalize, and spending most of the day staring at the graphic crime scene photos didn't help. at one point you couldn't bring yourself to look at the pictures, lowering your head down to the table and wanting nothing but to cry into aaron's shoulder.

but he was nowhere to be found, you've barely seen him. he had spent a good portion of the day conducting interviews, off following leads that only resulted in dead ends.

you did see him at lunch, but ignored his occasional, concerned glances. if you were to make eye contact with him, and despite how tempting that was, you would have lost it. in addition, the fact it was valentine's day, made it kind of worse.

sure, it was partly a hallmark, commercial holiday, but you couldn't help but yearn to be out to dinner with aaron - eating ridiculously priced food in a restaurant you could barely see him in, giggly and warm from the wine, serial killers being the least of your concerns.

and rather than going to bed to continue the night, you were going to bed to get a few hours of shut-eye if you were lucky - given the late hour and horrors of the day to keep your mind awake. before it was right back to where you had left off.

"besides, we're also too married to do anything too special, right?" you forced a laugh, the sound sounding foreign in the empty hallway. aaron internally winced, the strain and exhaustion in your voice tugging sadly at his heart.

you continued, "and if we were home, it'd be a quiet night-in wouldn't it? maybe we'd get take-out, watch a movie, go to sleep early."

a lie, but anything to make yourself feel better.

but, that's where aaron, without fail, always stepped in.

"well," he started, but didn't finish his thought - finally managing to get the room key to cooperate and pushing the door open, entering with you at his footsteps.

his back constructed your view, but once he sidestepped towards the bathroom to your right, he revealed a bouquet of red roses, chocolate covered strawberries, accompanied by a card waiting on the desk.

"i know it's not much." aaron explained as you froze, his hand finding the small of your back. "and it's not everything either, i do have more planned for once we're home but-"

maybe it was the near delirious exhaustion, the day you had, him, or all the above, but you only had one means of responding.

you grasped onto the lapels of his suit jacket, bringing him to you and kissing him so forcefully he nearly tripped up against the wall. aaron laughed gently in your mouth, but the kiss was long and deep, the two of you melting into each other.

not enough? it was everything, and the kiss alone silently proved that.

"thank you." you whispered once the two of you separated. your palms were resting on his chest, the fabric of his shirt soft under your fingers.

aaron smiled, the kind that caused the ends of his eyes to crinkle happily. "i love you. and although today wasn't how it should've been, and i would've loved to have spoiled you endlessly, and jack would've definitely been staying at jessica's for the night." his lips turned upwards into a light smirk, a wicked glint in his eyes before turning to their softness. "just like any day, i'm reminded how lucky i am you're my wife. whenever i'm with you, wherever we are, i'm home."

you blinked at him, in utter bafflement and awe. "how do you always know just what i need to hear?"

"because you're my beautiful wife, and like you said, we're too married." he teased, but his playful demeanor sobered, his voice lowering to a whisper. "i'm sorry you had a bad day."

"it's okay. it's better now," you answered just as softly as you looked into his eyes, stroking your thumb along his cheek before turning back to your surprise, "and when did you manage to do all this?"

"i can't reveal all my secrets, can i?" aaron quipped with a smile, pulling you in for another kiss. you reciprocated, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"happy valentine's day darling. and to many, many more."

[satorusugurugurl]

hiiiii!!! I love your work💗💗💗

Could you do giving the JJK men a honey pack lol

I keep seeing it on my fyp😂

JJK Men: It’s Just Honey—Right?

Summary: JJK Men are given a honey pack, an aphrodisiac, and a male enhancer! What could possibly go wrong?

Characters: Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna(Modern AU), AFAB!Reader

Warnings: aphrodisiac use, smut, public play, language, degradation, unprotected sex, choking, oral sex (F receiving), prone bone, multiple positions, multiple orgasms. Somno

Word Count: 8.7K

A/N: Nonnie, sorry this request took so long! It just sort of took on a mind of its own! I hope you enjoy it. I know I did! 🥴💚

Geto Suguru:

“Does stuff like this even work?” You asked as you lay on the bed in the love hotel you were stuck in.

You and Geto had gotten stuck in a typhoon, and instead of risking one of the assistant supervisor's safety, to come pick you up. You both decided staying in a hotel for the night would be best. The only problem was that the only hotel with rooms was a love hotel. Which, of course, wasn’t an issue for you both, seeing that you were dating happily but were stuck in a love hotel to see all sorts of exciting things.

A majority of the things you saw were related to sex, from sex toys, videos, and male enhancers. You have heard about more common ones like Viagra. But you had never seen one as a pack of honey before. You tossed it up in the air, catching it in your palm before tossing it back into the air, watching the foil package flip before landing back into the palm of your hand. Your boyfriend looked at you from his chair across the room with an amused smile.

“Is this your way of asking if I’ve taken enhancers in the past before?”

“What, no, never! I was just wondering if they work. I’ve never taken one before. I know they make some for women. I’m just lucky enough that I’ve never needed it.”

“Well, I can assure you that I’ve never needed to take one before myself.”

“Oh, trust me, I am well aware of that.”

Suguru placed his book down before taking a long look at you. You were nothing but booty shorts and his T-shirt. You looked good enough to eat right now, and your curiosity had piqued a curious interest of his own. No one was coming for you both until the morning, which meant you had time to kill—or better yet, time to screw each other‘s brains out.

“Hey, can I see that for a second?”

Not thinking much of your boyfriend’s request, you threw the package at him, your eyes glued to the ceiling before you heard a ripping sound. For a second, you thought maybe it had been your imagination. There was no way your boyfriend, who was very logical, ripped open the aphrodisiac honey, but there was the only way to be sure that he hadn’t done something like that; slowly, you turned your head as your boyfriend squeezed the entire package into his mouth, violet eyes watching you as he did so there was a dark, mischievous glee behind them as he stuck his tongue out, letting the honey drip all over his tongue.

You sputtered and blinked before opening and closing your mouth in disbelief. ”S-Suguru? What did you do?” Suguru’s pink tone darted out slowly, trailing over his bottom lip. Not once did his eyes leave yours.

“I’m conducting an experiment.”

“An experiment?”

“A majority of the time, stuff like this doesn’t work. It’s mostly for show, like a placebo for the brain. So we want to know if it works, so let’s put it to the test.”

It was safe to say that Suguru’s initial theory was wrong. The honey packet that he ingested was, in effect, a very real aphrodisiac. He was fine; one second, and the next, his cock was as hard as a diamond. Regret settled in his bones as he glanced back at you, who had taken notice of the tent in his pants. You didn’t say anything; instead, your actions spoke volumes. You took your shirt off by throwing it in his face, followed by your shorts and your underwear.

He swallowed, cheeks flushing, a dusty rose before he was up in on you like green on grass. The normal foreplay and preparation he always carefully took was the furthest thing on his mind. All he could focus on was how hard his cock hurt. It throbbed painfully as he tugged his pants down, freeing his erection—the tip red with rage as he spit into his hand, lubing it up.

“Need you.” he snarled, “I fucking need you.”

Suguru didn’t even give you a chance to respond to him. Because the second you opened your mouth, he had flipped you over onto your stomach while he laid flat on top of pressing the head of covk against your tight entrance. You shuddered, gripping the sheets as he slammed into you, gritting his teeth as he buried his face in the space between your shoulder blades. The sensation of his hot breath against your cool skin sent shivers throughout your body, causing goosebumps to rise in their wake.

Your boyfriend had lost it. He had entirely completely and irrefutably lost his composure. And you weren’t at all upset about it.

“Fuuuck!” You cried out as he set a brutal pace. “S-Sugu—-!”

“Need you.” He repeated in an almost primal growl. “I need all of you!”

You squeaked out a whimper as he sank his teeth into your shoulder before leaving a trail of kisses and hickeys all along your skin. He was marking you up, claiming you as his and his alone. The need that seeped out of his being through his actions and words left you feeling dizzy.

“S-Sugu!”

“Ahhn! Fuck! Princess.”

Watching him lose control like this, feeling him pressing against you in the rawest way, had your eyes rolling back as he forced himself inside. Your muffled moans left Suguru's cock throbbing so hard inside of you that he was afraid he would cum right then in there. He wasn't sure if it was the honey, or his own desire, but he was losing himself at the feeling of being inside of you. You were so wet and tight, and god, you smelt heavenly.

This new-found lust, the desire, had him digging his hands into the sheets underneath you. The earthy musk had your head spinning, fueling your desire as if you had partaken of the honey yourself. You cried out as Suguru continued littering your skin with bites. It was so raw, so hot, and you were already on the edge.

“S-Sugu!” You cried out, feeling your walls clamping around him, squeezing him for all that he was worth. “Suguru I-I—!”

You didn't need to say those last few words as a curtain of dark hair fell around you. “I know,” Suguru grunted, pulling all the way out before slamming into you, making the bed creak under your combined weight. “I can feel it~ feel your tight walls convulsing; I feel you trying to hold back.” His lips pressed against your cheek, breath hot against your sweat-sheened skin. “Don't do that, baby~ I wanna feel you~ wanna make you feel good with my cock.” Your hips rolled shamelessly back against Suguru’s cock, his words egging you.

“C-Close—”

“Yeah, it feels good, doesn't it, Princess~? My thick cock stretching you out, making you feel so good?”

“M-Mhmm!” Your toes curled, breathing quickening as Suguru used all of his strength to fuck you into the mattress. “F-Fuck! I-I’m gonna! Gonna!”

“Yeah— cum for me, baby! Cum all over my cock.”

His words alone, dark and needy, sent you tumbling over the edge. You screamed into the pillow, crying tears of ecstasy as your orgasm was ripped out of you. It was violent and oh-so-tucking good, leaving you a convulsing mess underneath your boyfriend, who shuddered, cock throbbing inside of you. Warmth flooded your pussy as he came, the hot spurt filling you, but not once did Suguru stop. He kept going fucking into you like a crazed animal, stopping you as you weakly tried pulling away.

Once he stopped, you shakily lifted your head out of the sheets, crying out softly as his still-hard cock twitched inside of you. It seemed as though the package wasn't lying about enhancing male performance. Your boyfriend had just filled you up and was raring to go for another round, which was both alluring and terrifying at the same time.

“You okay?” Suguru questioned, voice gravely in your ear as he gently peppered your skin with kisses. You swallowed hard, trying to alleviate the burning in your throat. “Good.”

Without a warning, Suguru slowly began thrusting in and out of you. He kept his pace soft and sweet to not overstimulate you. But before you knew it, those soft, slow thrusts were replaced with the mean, bullying backshots he had just given you. He kept that pace up for over an hour. Face down, ass up on the mattress. His cock had been so hard that it hurt, and no matter how many times he had cum inside of you, it didn't feel like it was enough.

Until he was the one suffering from the overstimulation. He was panting and crying against your lips as his cock throbbed inside of you, draining the last of his cum inside of your wet and willing hole. Both of you were completely gone at that point. Nothing more than a heap of twitching muscles as Suguru lay down, staring up at the ceiling in a daze.

“Y-You good?” You asked in between gasps.

Suguru swallowed hard, reaching for a water bottle on the side of the bed and handing it to you. “S-So fucking good—“ Suguru sighed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you tight against his side. “I-I think that e-experiment was a success.” You swallowed the last gulp before handing the half bottle to your boyfriend.

“A success indeed.” He slowly reached for his phone, texting on the screen with a lazy smirk. “And it’s an experiment gonna get me out of some paperwork.”

“Huh?”

“I’m gonna tell Satoru about it. Get out of some work for a while.”

“Oooh, texting your ‘boyfriend’ after you just put me in ninety-nine positions?” There was a joking tone to your teasing, but your boyfriend scoffed, sitting up to hover over you.

He pressed a gentle kiss against your lips. “I’m texting my best friend this so I can get out of extra work and spend that free time with you—” he reached for the nightstand waving the other honey pack in your face. “and the honey pack.”

“Well, what the hell are you waiting for? Text him!”

Gojo Satoru:

You had been minding your business, watching some trashy reality TV show, when a box was tossed on the coffee table. You pull your eyes away from the screen long enough to watch a flash of white blur before Satoru plopped down on the ground. Something was going on, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to participate. He snickered, rubbing his hands together as he looked the box over. Something was going on, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to participate.

But your curiosity got the better, urging you to find out why your boyfriend was in such a good mood. “What are you up to, Toru?” Your body almost moved as you kicked your blanket off, sitting on the floor beside him.

“Suguru and I made a bet.”

Yeah, if it were a bet between the two idiots, you definitely would not want to participate in this with them.

“What is with the two of you making bets against each other?” Satoru lost his hearing when it came to that comment. “Baby, what even is this?”

To answer your question, he ripped the tape off the box opening it up. Reaching his hand inside, he pulled out a pouch. The words ‘Honey Package’ were written in red, with hearts surrounding it. Before you could even begin telling Gojo, you had no intentions of taking whatever was in it. He flipped it over, resting it against the palm of his hand, revealing the clear backside of the package. Inside was a thick amber-colored liquid, which looked just like honey.

“This is like Viagra, but in honey form.”

“Satoru, keeping up with your stamina already is nearly too much. There’s no way you need to take one of those!”

“Ooh, please, you love my stamina. It keeps up with your sex drive.” He wasn't wrong about that at all. “Besides, there’s no way this shit works.”

Oh, well, this conversation took off in a completely different direction. “Huh?” You blinked, eyeing the package as Satoru squished it in his hand, using it like a stress ball. “Wait, you don’t think it’s gonna work?” Cerulean eyes almost glimmered with annoyance as they darted in your direction.

“Baby, these aphrodisiacs never work. What happens is you eat a bunch of strawberry chocolate, and you think that it’s an aphrodisiac urging you to fuck. This right here.” The foil packaging crumpled slightly. He ripped up one of the corners. “Is some rich assholes gimmick to try to make a bunch of money. These Influencers get a free sample and act like they fuck all night. They make a commission off of it. So yes, I don’t think it works.”

“But Suguru does? I thought for sure it would be the other way around.”

“Yeah, this is gonna be the easiest bet I’m gonna win.” You hummed, watching as Satoru squeezed the honey into his mouth. “I’m going to make him every single dessert from the many of the newest cafés downtown.”

“And what does he get if you lose?”

“Bragging rights, and I would have to do all his paperwork for an entire week.”

Satoru sighed constantly at the thought of syncing his teeth into some delicious sweets as he tossed the empty package onto the table before kicking his feet out in front of him, placing his hands behind his head. He had this in the bag, no doubt about that.

It only took thirty minutes to pass.

You were the first to notice something wasn't quite right with your loving boyfriend. He looked flushed; his hands gripped the sofa cushions for dear life, and sweat began to bead on his forehead. You decided it would be best for you to keep an eye on him in case he had some kind of reaction to the honey. It could be dangerous to take enhancers like that, not knowing what sort of effect they would have on the person. The last thing you wanted was for him to get sick.

Another ten minutes passed, and Satoru threw his jacket off along with his pants, leaving him in nothing but his T-shirt and boxers. Although he had put himself in this state, you hated seeing him in such discomfort. With a heavy sigh, you got on your knee and pressed your hand against his forehead. He was hot to the touch, and you needed to lower his temperature.

“Toru, sweetie, let's get you in the shower, okay?” He panted heavily, cloudy crystalline blue eyes meeting yours. “We'll take a cool shower to get your temperature down.”

“I—-need—”

You frowned, leaning closer toward his mouth. “What was that? You need what?” Satoru's pretty lips quivered before his hand flew up, grabbing you by the arms and pushing you against the sofa. “T-Toru.” Your boyfriend towered above you, panting heavily as he looked you up and down with a growl, his erection throbbing in his boxers.

“I need you.” He growled, his hand reaching down, squeezing his cock. “I need you so bad; it hurts, baby. Please, please, I need you.”

Two things were clear to you at that moment. One, your boyfriend would be doing a ton of paperwork for the next month, and second, you were in for a fight for your life. The logical part of your brain told you to run; he had put himself in this situation so he could deal with it on his own. The other more empathetic part of you once against hated seeing him suffering.

Against all logical reasoning, you sighed, reaching down and tugging your shorts and panties off.

“You're not ever taking this shit again.” You Pulled him up, heading to the bedroom, where you shoved him down on the bed. “This shit has you all hot, chemicals and stuff.”

“It’s all organic.” He barked out, pulling you down onto the mattress with him. “It’s not so much bad as it’s well—” he trailed his fingers up the curves of your breasts. “It’s different,” Gojo finally whispered, his hand mimicking slowly moving up along your collarbone, sliding down the swell of your breasts. Your breath caught in your throat as he began massaging them, “And different isn't always a bad thing.” he nipped at your ear.

Gojo’s fingers slid further down, tracing circles around your nipples. They hardened automatically, causing you to arch your back at the sensations. Perhaps he was right—maybe this wasn't as bad as you thought it was going to be. You moaned, running your hand over Gojo’s crotch, palming at his already throbbing erection. Your moans and Gojo’s growls of pleasure began mixing, making it sound as though there was a promo playing in the background. But there wasn't; it was just you and your very hornh boyfriend.

“Fuck I need to touch you, Sweetie.” He said in a barely audible tone against the crook of your neck, “God, I need to. Need to be inside of you.” His hand slid further down, teasing your mound with careful fingers. As he did, he nipped and sucked on your neck, leaving you whimpering as you straddled him. You bucked your hips into his hand, craving more of his touch, wanting to feel his skin on your intimate parts.

“Toru, don’t tease me.” you begged through moans as you slid your hand into his boxers, “touch me baby.” Satoru hisses as you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and stroke him up and down. The contact had Gojo growling like a wild beast, thrusting into your hand, his fingers slipping further down until his entire hand was cupping your dripping sex.

You felt as though you were high off the honey as you inhaled sharply when his fingers slid up and down the lips of your pussy. “Holy shit, Sweetheart,” he growled lustfully in your ear, “you’re so fuckin’ wet.” Those long sinful fingers of his rubbed circles around your clit, causing you to gasp, “Mhmm, and it’s all for me.”

“And you’re so hard, Gojo,” you managed to whisper, “n-not that you aren't hard all the time. But you're fuck, you're so hard!” You began rubbing the pad of your thumb over the slit of his cock, “So fucking hard.” Pre-cum smeared over the sensitive head, leaving him moaning loudly as he dipped his fingers inside of you, pumping them. He watched as you peered up at him, moaning, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer.

Your boyfriend pressed his forehead against yours as he kept pumping his fingers. The fucking honey was enhancing everything he felt. The adoration for you, the lust, fuck he had never been this horny in his entire life. He let those feelings fuel him, helping him move as the two of you worked each other towards extraordinary mind-blowing orgasm.

Gojo curled his fingers, brushing them across your g-spot. You gasped loudly, squeezing his cock, causing him to growl loudly, pumping faster and harder against that sweet spot. You did your best to hold out as long as you could; you didn't want to cum too soon.

“Sweetheart,” Gojo licked your earlobe, nibbling it between his teeth. “Cum for me.” When he told you to do so, that was a different story.

You came hard, rocking against his fingers. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you as Gojo kept moving his fingers, extending your orgasm. Your toes curled into the sheets as you arched your back, pressing your bare breasts against his chest. Gojo kept moving, not stopping until you were panting, basking in the afterglow of your release. When you finally opened your eyes, you met the lust-filled cerulean eyes of your boyfriend. He was staring at you, stroking your mound lazily.

“Toru,” you tugged at his shirt, “I need you to fuck me right now.” He was happy to oblige, stripping his shirt off and throwing it on the side of the bed before Gojo rolled, pushing you back against the mattress and hovering over you. He looked like he was seconds away from cumming, so you decided it would be best for you to take control, so you quickly rolled, flipping him back over so you were straddling him.

“Fuck, Sweetheart,” His voice was as grave as he groaned, gripping your hips as you lowered yourself onto his impressive cock. You shivered, resisting the urge to start riding him right then and there and opting to enjoy the feeling of him stretching you out. “Sweetie,” Satoru groaned, squeezing your hips. “Nngh!!” the honey had him desperate, wanting to fuck, so for you just to sit there, not moving, was literal torture. “Holy nngh! Fuck please, ride me already. You’re killing me here!” He thrusts up, causing you to gasp, making you bounce up and down. “That’s more like it.”

You nodded, grabbing your boyfriend's hands and sliding up the curves of your body before placing them on your breasts. Understanding your silent request, Satoru massaged and kneaded them, brushing his thumb and index fingers over your sensitive nipples. You whimpered, rocking your hips, his cock hitting your g-spot with every rock of your hips. Gojo sat up, thrusting eagerly to meet your rhythm.

You dig your fingers into Gojo’s fluffy tufts of pristine white hair, pulling him close to your breasts. He took the hint, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, tugging, sucking, and nipping at it. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his body. His fingers dug into the small of your back; you were pretty sure you were going to have bruises there tomorrow.

With each thrust from Gojo, you grew closer and closer, chasing your orgasm. Gojo's mouth continued to assault your nipples, teasing them ever so slightly. By this time, you and Gojo's moans groans, and growls of pleasure flooded the room. The two of you were so loud you were positive the neighbors would file a noise complaint against you.

But you didn't give a fuck about that.

All that mattered was how good Satoru felt. How your nails dug into his back, scratching at his flawless skin as he thrusts deeper and harder inside of you. You let out screams, digging your nails deeper into his skin as he flips the two of you over. Gojo stares at you before slamming his lips on yours. His tongue is fighting against yours for dominance. He growls, thrusting faster and deeper inside you.

“Toru, I’m gonna cum!” You gasped, gripping his hair and staring into his stunning eyes. He stares back into yours; he smirks, pressing his forehead against yours, kissing your lips softly.

“Cum for me, sweetie,” he mutters against your lips, “Haaah~ fuck yes, cum for me, cum with me.” He pounded ruthlessly into you, gripping the headboard and slamming into your g-spot.

You wrapped your legs around his digging your heels in his ass and pulling him deeper. And it sends you over the edge, you gasp, your orgasm rippling through you. You tighten around Gojo, and he groans, burying his face in your neck as he thrusts a few more times before following you over the edge, cumming inside you.

You lay there, Gojo’s weight crushing you, but you don't mind. After taking a second to catch his breath, he chuckled softly, pulling out of you before laying on his back, placing you flat on his chest. He took a deep breath, running his finger through your hair. You turned your head, resting it over his heart with a dorky smile.

“That was—”

“Amazing,” Gojo finished for you. That was amazing.” You giggled, nodding in agreement.

“Beyond amazing.”

“Mhmm.”

“Hey Gojo?” He lifted his head, staring into your eyes.

“Yeah, Sweetheart?” You bite your bottom lip, kissing up his chest.

“Do you have any more of that, honey? I wanna try some with you.” You felt him tense. He grinned quickly, placing you on the side before he stood up, running out of the room and grabbing a package off the counter.

“Have as much as you like!” as you ripped the package open with your teeth, Satoru lifted your legs placing them over his shoulders as he kissed your inner thighs “Sit back and relax while you wait for it to kick in.” You swallowed the sweet liquid in your mouth before reaching down and running your hands through Gojo’s soft tufts of hair as he dragged his tongue up your slit. “I can keep myself entertained for now.”

Nanami Kento:

With Nanami working so many hours and you staying home caring for your daughter. You and Nanami hardly have any time alone anymore. Sure, you were able to sneak a date here and there—a quickie in the morning before he had to go to work. The romance, sex, and relationship were planned now. But Nanami missed the spontaneous sex; he missed laying in bed with you, hearing your gasps and moans. Feeling the way you would clamp down on him when you came.

God, he missed the sex.

Nanami sighed, running a hand over his face as he unlocked the door to your house. All the lights were off, meaning you had most likely put your daughter to bed, seeing that it was close to three in the morning. Kento dropped his keys and messenger bag on the entry table before heading into the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

Sitting on the counter was a loaf of homemade bread and a package of honey. Kento cocked an eyebrow as he approached the treat that had been left out for him. A sticky note with your handwriting on it was next to the bread.

‘It must have been a long day~ enjoy this aphrodisiac honey, and wake me up in the sweetest way you can. You have his full consent even if I’m asleep. Much Love— your wife!’

Kento reread the note several times before eyeing the honey. Aphrodisiac honey? He had heard you mention it before. You suggested trying one of these weekends when you both had time together, which might be a fun treat. And he was tired and stressed from a long day. He couldn't deny how his pants tightened at the thought of waking you up horny and completely needy.

Kento sliced himself a piece of bread without much thought before smearing it with the honey. It was surprisingly good. Most aphrodisiacs he had heard of had an odd taste to them. This tasted like honey bread. And that in itself was dangerous.

Kento managed to eat two slices of honey bread before he began feeling the effects working its way down to his cock. He wanted you, and seeing that you had given him your consent, he planned on having you. Not wanting to waste any more time, Kento headed up the stairs, gripping the railing. He quickly stopped into the nursery next to your bedroom to check on your daughter, who was sleeping peacefully. Nanami smiled, brushing back a cur of her hair before leaning down and kissing her forehead before heading into the master bedroom.

The lamp on your side of the bed was still on. It looked like you had fallen asleep while reading a book, and now you are resting on your chest. Kento leaned against the front of the bed, watching his wife sleep peacefully. Your chest moved up and down as you dreamed away. Your beautiful hair was sprawled against the pillow as the low light of the lamp illuminated your beautiful body. Your soft skin was complimented by your navy nightgown that hugged your curves perfectly. God, he was so lucky to have you in his life.

You muttered something, moaning softly as you dreamed. That sound had Nanami’s cock twitching as you rolled on your back, completely exposing your body to him. The honey seemed to take over his body. He had to have you right now. With a glance back at the nursery, Nanami decided to go through with his horny desires. He made quick work of shedding out of his clothes. If he was quiet enough, maybe he could get away with a midnight snack before he went to bed without waking your daughter.

Kento crawled under the sheets and comforter, slowly making his way up the bed. He listened to his wife for any sign that you had woken up, but you were still fast asleep. When he finally reached your feet, he began placing kisses on both of them, gently spreading your legs open as he made his way closer and closer to her pussy. Nanami nipped and sucked at your inner thighs, dragging his slight stubble on his chin over your soft skin.

He could never get over how soft your skin was. Or how you shivered under his lips, How you were wet with the slightest touch of his hands and lips. The honey was making his head whirl as he finally met your cunt. Ever so slowly, Nanami dragged his tongue along the folds of your pussy, moaning at your sweet taste. You were sweeter than the honey he had eaten. You were wet and delicious, so of course, he found himself reaching up and grabbing your hips as he pulled himself closer to your pussy, desperately wanting to taste more of you against his tongue.

“Mmm,” you whimpered in your sleep, moving slightly under his touch. That slight movement left Kento licking faster, taking your clit into his mouth and sucking in it hard. Your hips buckled slightly as he swirled his tongue around the bundle of nerves, flicking his tongue against you. “K-Ken.” you exhaled softly, rocking your hips roughly as you dreamed.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered against your folds, sliding two fingers inside of you. When he breached the tight ring of muscles, he began pumping them, and suddenly, the sheets flew back. Nanami looked up at you, seeing flushed cheeks as you propped yourself up on your elbows, staring down at your husband.

“K-Kento, what are you doing?” you whispered between moans as he pumped his fingers faster, “Oh his God.” you groaned, throwing your head back against the pillows. Your hand reached down, gripping his hair, tugging it as he continued to kiss you. “Y-You found the h-honey!”

“Mhmm,” he moaned against you, moving his head back and forth, curling his fingers inside of you, moving them in the ‘come hither’ motion. “And it was delicious~ but my Love, you’re far sweeter.” Your hips bucked forward as you began convulsing around his fingers. Nanami could hear your breathing in fast, quiet pants as you tried to control your volume. Knowing he had that kind of effect on you had him smirking against your pussu, feeling you come undone over his slightest touches; God, the honey had already affected him, but you turned him on even more.

“K-Kento— I-I’m gon-” you could barely get out the rest of the sentence as his lips took your clit into his mouth again, and he sucked at you relentlessly. Pulling out gasps and earth-shattering moans that had him grinding against your mattress. Your hand clamped over your mouth, silencing the screams that threatened to escape. The last thing either of you wanted was to wake your daughter

Your left hand tangled in his blonde locks, tugging on it as you came against his mouth. Wave after wave of pleasure shook your body as he continued sucking; his honey-brown eyes were dull from the amount of pleasure of watching you cum. God, he fucking loved you.

You panted roughly, slowly releasing your grasp on his hair. This allowed him to pull away, licking his lips before pulling his fingers out of you with a hiss. You shivered, watching as he slowly stuck his fingers into his mouth, sensually licking them clean. The seductive act left you staring at him as if he were one of the world's wonders. Seeing the hunger in your eyes, Nanami chuckled.

“If I didn't know any better, I would think you had eaten the honey.” He popped his fingers back into his mouth, watching as you slowly licked your lips before reaching up and cupping his face. Nanami followed your needy movements, letting you bring his face down to yours, kissing you deeply while pulling him down on top of you and trapping him there, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Kento,” you whispered against his lips as he pulled away, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Need you.” You nipped your teeth at his bottom lip. He moaned, slamming his lips against you, shoving his tongue into your mouth. His tongue moved against yours, massaging it as you rocked your hips against his crotch. He was so hard; he needed more of you. Nanami trailed his hands over the curves of your body, reaching for the front of your nightgown, kneading at your breasts.

You arched into his touch as he pulled your nightgown down, exposing your breasts to him. He took one of your perky nipples into his mouth and began sucking on your breast, tugging at it with his teeth, drawing out a long, loud moan from you. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he continued to suck and nip at you. Nanami groaned as your hands slowly trailed down his back, tugging his boxers off, allowing his erection to spring free from her confinements. Your hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it with your hand softly. Kentowas already hard, but your touch made him even harder. He was eager for more, wanting to plunge into your slickened folds.

“Enough teasing,” you whispered against his neck as you trailed kisses down it, “I’m more than ready for you now.” you nipped at his skin, spreading your legs for him, “I want you, Kento.” How could he deny you? He made quick work pulling your nightgown off completely before kicking his boxers off. He hovered over you, cupping your face as he kissed you again.

“I love you, darling.” he whispered, grabbing his cock with his free hand and stroking it slightly, “Fuck, I love you so much; I missed you.”

“Show me how much you missed me,” you whispered breathlessly, staring into his honey-brown eyes. “Show me, Ken.”

As you commanded, he slowly began sliding inside of her. He groaned, feeling your juices coat the head of his cock. Kento bit down on his lip, trying to control himself. The honey had made his body overly sensitive. He can control himself. He watched her instead, enjoying the face you made. Her mouth opened slightly, and your cheeks flushed. You were such a beautiful woman. And this lovely woman had her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer towards your center.

“More,” You whispered through a moan, “I need more of you.” he nodded, kissing you lovingly as he slid deeper inside of you, his cock nestled deep inside of your pussy, hitting your cervix. “F-Fuck—” Kento paused for a moment, but only a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size before he began slamming in and out of you. “Y-Yes, oh fuck yes, Ken!.” you cried out, which was quickly silenced as Nanami placed his fingers over your lips.

“Shh, you’ll wake her up.” you mewled, nodding as you pursed your lips together as Nanami began thrusting slowly. He groaned as you lifted your hips in time with him, making his pace quicken. Your gasps and moans meddled in with the creaking bed. A symphony of pleasure that only made Nanami more eager. The honey made you look even more delicious as you arched your back, begging for more. To which he happily complied. Nanami’s hands slowly slid between your bodies. You bit down on your lip as his thumb instantly found your clit.

“Kento!” you gasped as his thumb lazily began tracing circles around the bundle of nerves. Which resulted in your bucking as he began slamming into you. Kento’d cock was painfully hard, but it didn't stop him from ramming against your g-spot with every thrust. In no time, your walls began clamping down on him.

“Fuck Love, you feel so good, baby.” He gasped loudly, thrusting deeper inside of you. His hands kneaded her breasts, his thumb and forefinger gripped and twisted your nipples, all while he trailed kisses down your neck, letting the aphrodisiac lead him. Your hands gripped his ass, gasping loudly as you whispered his name.

Kento felt the pleasure building inside his lower abdomen, like a coil tightening in his stomach. He was close. And from the way you were rocking against him, how you threw your head back, moaning softly, he knew you were close too. His fingers began rubbing your clit in faster and harder as he thrust quickly as fast as he could. Listening to the sound of you whimpering on a strangled gasp as he moved his hand to cover your mouth.

“That’s my girl, cum for me, cum all over me, baby.” you nodded, moaning loudly against his hand as you clamped down on your husband's cock. Your orgasm hits you hard, coating Nanami’s cock with your juices. Feeling you cumminf so hard left Nanami growling, burying his face into the crook of your neck, his thrusts less rhythmed as he fell over the edge following your orgasm. You could feel it as he came deep inside of you. But not once did his hips stop. They kept thrusting as your pussy milked me dry, making him spill his seed deep inside of you.

He collapsed on top of you, removing his hand from your mouth. The two of you lay there panting in the haze of our orgasms. After a few moments to breathe, Nanami looked at you, smirking as he kissed your lips gently, winning a kiss back from you.

“Welcome home,” you smiled, gently stroking his cheek. It looks like the honey worked.”

“Mhmm, you should order us some more.” He nuzzled your neck, winning a giggle from his wife.

“I couldn’t agree more.” You kissed his head as he rolled over, holding you in his arms. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Darling. God, I love you so much.” he whispered against your hair, inhaling the scent of your favorite shampoo. “I’m so happy to be home.” he muttered as you snuggled close to him. The two of you lay there in bliss before you finally fell asleep in his arms. Kento grinned, kissing your head before closing his eyes and following you into dreamland.

Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU):

“Ehem!” your boyfriend groaned, clearing his throat for the thousandth time that morning. “Fuck, my throat is so scratchy.”

You gave him a smile as he drank some water. “ I told you screaming would hurt your throat.” Sukuna narrowed crimson eyes at you, but he didn’t argue because you had, in fact, warned him about that last night at the concert. “And just so you know, water isn’t going to help with that.” this time, your boyfriend scoffed, raising a pierced at you as he placed his glass down on the counter.

“Oh, and what makes you say that?”

“Because I am medically trained, " you said, placing the kettle on the stove and grabbing a mug from the cabinet. “Hot tea will be better to ease that scratchy feeling.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

While the kettle was slowly heating up, you searched the pantry, grabbing a teabag and the honey. Only you found no honey left, well, not enough for honey tea. You would have to remember to add that to the list the next time you go to the grocery store. But luckily for you, you had luck at the bachelorette party you had gone to the weekend before. The entryway dug through your purse, pulling out the goodie bag you were given when you left. Of the goodie bag was a mixture of penis-shaped candy condoms that were too small for your boyfriend and a package of honey. Which you had assumed was reserved for food. But the food place would have to wait. Easing Sukuna’s discomfort was more important than pleasure.

When the kettle finally went off, whistling to let you know it was ready, you hurried back into the kitchen. Sukuna watched as he poured the hot water over the teabag in his mug. “Let the tea steep for five minutes and then pour this into it,” you instructed, tossing the package at him.

“Honey pack?” Sukuna asked as he caught it with ease, reading the label. He turned it over, examining the contents before shrugging his shoulder. “Alright, whatever you say. You are the medically trained one.” you fought back a laugh as you leaned over the counter, pressing your lips against his. “Have a good day at work, oh-so-well-trained-one.”

“I will dork; I love you.”

“Ditto.”

When you made it to work, you gushed to your coworkers about the concert Sukuna had taken you to the night before. He somehow managed to get tickets to your favorite band and got you VIP seating. The night had been one of the best nights of your life. You both had gotten drunk and screamed to the songs at the top of your lungs before passing out back at his apartment. It has been so much fun and you would never forget it.

“You are so in love with him.” Your work Bestie laughed as you dreamily sighed, wishing the clock would move faster.

“I am; he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You were a second away from getting up to room a patient when you heard thundering footsteps approaching your desk. Quickly, looking over your shoulder, your manager and one of the receptionists approached you. You could tell there was something wrong from the panicked look on their faces.

You pushed away from your desk, pressing back the rising fear within you. “What happened?”

“Your boyfriend is here in the lobby. He’s asking for you, saying there’s an emergency. Grab your stuff and go. I’m going to clock you out,” your manager said as you began collecting your things.

You began running through the office, slamming the doors to the lobby open. Did something happen to his brothers? Was Yuuji okay at school? Or did something happen to Choso? There were so many different scenarios that could’ve happened. You need to get out of here fast. You picked up your pace bursting through the open door finding Sukuna waiting for you. His chest was rising and falling; his cheeks were slightly flushed as if he had run the entire way to your building. When those crimson eyes met yours, he moved, grabbed your hand, and tugged you out of the office.

You held onto him, running to keep up with his long strides. He didn’t say a word. Maybe he wanted to get to a more intimate place to tell you what was happening. When you made it into the parking garage, you saw his car waiting a few rows back. You quickly opened the front door to the passenger seat, but the door didn’t open entirely as Sukuna touched it, slamming it shut.

“Kuna?”

“Get in the back.”

His voice was hoarse and full of need. A raw need that had heat pooling between your thighs. “H-Huh?” your question went unanswered as his eyebrow twitched and evident frustration.

“I said get in the fucking backseat.” to emphasize his point, he opened the door to the back, pushing you towards it.

You quickly crawled into the backseat without any other swelling as you turned your head to look at him. He was even heavier than when he was in your office. His cheeks were a darker shade of red as he growled at the side of you, sprawled against his backseat. Your eyes down his body and find his gray sweats too tight around the crotch, and that source of the tightness twitched. Did he seriously pull you out of work because he was horny?!

“K-Kun—what the fuck is happening? My boss said it was an emergency.”

You scooted back, watching as Sukuna ducked his head, joining you in the backseat and slamming the door behind him. “What was I supposed to say? hey I need you to send my girlfriend home because my cock feels like it’s going to explode.” He reached for you, tugging your scrub pants down tossing them into car's front seat. “I don’t think she would’ve been so keen on you leaving for that reason.” your underwear was suddenly his next target as they were ripped off using all of his strength.

“W-What happened to you? You couldn’t help but giggle at the desperation in his movements. “I just left like an hour ago.”

“Yeah, well, I started feeling fucking weird after you left.” He pulled his sweats down enough to free himself. His cock bounced, the tip leaking pre-cum as he pulled you into his lap, spitting into his hand, lubing up his cock. “It didn’t make a lot of sense as to why I felt so fucking horny until I put it together.”

Straddle his hips, gripping onto his shoulders. “And what did you manage to put together, Kuna?” he grabbed your hips, forcing you down onto him without so much as a warning, drawing out a gasp from you as he hissed.

“That Honey Pack you gave me is an aphrodisiac.”

Suddenly, it became very clear as to why they would include that in a goodie bag at a bachelorette party. Those thoughts,s however, were suddenly clouded with pleasure as Sukuna dug his fingers into your hips, beginning to jackhammer up into your dripping cunt. “Fuck!” You cried out, throwing your head back and leaving your neck exposed. Your boyfriend took the opportunity to bite into your neck with an almost feral snarl as his hips kept bucking up into you at a nearly inhuman speed. “O-Oh my god fuck!!”

“Mmphm~.” he pulled away, running his tongue over the Mark. He had left on your skin. The chill of his tongue piercing left you shivering above him on his lap. “You have no clue how hard it was for me to control myself, and I saw you running towards me back there. I nearly lost a little control. I had on myself and fucked you right there in the lobby.”

“O-Oooh, oooh nngh.”

Sukuna, even in his horny thoughts, felt you clench around him at his words. “Oh, what was that? Would you like that, you dirty fucking slut? Do you want me to fuck you in public in front of all your coworkers? Then they would know you aren't this innocent little medical assistant. They would know you’re my dirty fucking slut.” you clenched harder around him. “Oh my God, you would like that!”

“K-Kuna!”

“That’s not an answer,” he growled, fisting your hair, yanking your head to the side, exposing the other side of your neck. “Use your words Kitten.” his teeth sank into the other side of your neck as he bullied his cock deeper inside of you, rubbing the tip greedily against your cervix in an almost painful way, but the pleasure overwhelmed the pain.

“Yes!! Yes, I want that! I want you!”

Hearing you say that caused the last cord of strength in Sukuna to snap. He moved with a certain despite being cramped in the back of his car. Your back hit the seat, knocking the air out of your lungs as the head of his cock slammed against your cervix harder. When you looked up at him, you whimpered. Something instinctual told you to submit to the much larger predator above you. Your body wanted it to give into him, allowing him to have his way with you.

Sukuna growled, his pierced tongue slowly over his bottom lip as those dark, lust-filled eyes watched you tremble underneath him. He had to have you. And every way he possibly could. Sukuna pulled out, groaning at the feeling of your inner walls, attempting to prevent him from leaving, but they didn’t need to try to stop him because he had no intention of pulling out.

“My dirty slut.” Sukuna growled as he slammed back into using all of his strength. “Wantk g fuck him in front of your coworkers in front of a bunch of strangers.” he leaned over you, pressing his lips against yours. “Even if that were something you would want, I would never do that. Because I would kill anyone who looked at you like that.”

“N-Nnngh—oh—fuck!”

Your wall squeezed around him hugging his cock tight. “Are you squeezing down on me because it turns you on to know how I’m so possessive over you?” you weakly nodded, crying out softly as you tried and failed to kiss him. Your moans are spilling out, preventing you from moving your lips against his and the way you wanted. “Awe, Kitten~ you can’t even talk because you’re feeling so good.” another nod. “Haah~ such a good girl for me just lay back and feel good while I use your pussy okay?”

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the powerful thrusts that came next. Sukuna grabbed your hips, holding them down as he fucked into you like you were a flashlight. The car rocked with each slam of his hips. The sound of skin slapping against skin was almost as loud as the growls and moans that sounded from you both. Sweat coated your low, lower body as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Your boyfriend could feel it, too. Feel the way your nails dug into his forearms, how you’re pretty legs trembled with your building orgasm. He watched you slowly coming undone, and that sight only pressed him to go further.

All of his control vanished as he fucked into you like he hated you. “K-Kuna!” You screamed, eyes watering as he reached up, choking your eyes, shutting tight. “G-Gonna—oh fuck I-I’m gonna!” Sukuna's thumb found your clit rubbing it, giving you that final push you were needing.

“Then fucking cum Kitten~”

You came hard and fast. The pleasure hitting you in the most wonderful way. Sukuna watched from above, grunting at the feeling of you squirting all over his cock. That sensation had him lurching forward as his own orgasm hit him. His cock throbbed and twitched inside of you as he came. Your mouth fell at the feeling of his cum filling you. It was so warm, and you hummed happily, giggling as Sukuna fell on top of you, peppering your face with kisses.

“Uuugh.”

“Uugh?” You laughed breathlessly, your fingers tracing over the tattoos that were etched into his face. “That’s a first.”

“Y-Yeah fuck whatever, we need to hurry.” He whispered affectionately against your kiss-swollen lips. “G-Gonna be hard again. We need to get home.”

“Oh? Really what-aahnn—” Your question was lost with a moan as Sukuna grabbed your earlobe, tugging it roughly, teasing your weak spot. “Fuck!”

“I plan on taking you home and fucking until both of us pass out or whenever my dick stops working.” you know damn well he meant every single word. “You wanted to take such good care of me this morning. You still can. But I don’t need you to make me tea. I need to fuck you in every way I can.” You moaned, squirming in anticipation of what was to come when you got home. “But before we get home and start our fuck-fest, I need you to do something for me when we get home.”

“What do you need, Ku-nnngh!” his lips sealed around your ear, gently sucking and kissing on it.“Holy fuckin’ fuck!”

“I need you to order us some more of this honey~” he didn’t need to tell you twice. You proudly subscribe to the monthly subscription box. Because having him lose all of his composure was something you definitely wanted to experience again and again.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @msniks

[alphajocklover]

AirBoyfriendNBoyfriend

**based off an ask I accidentally deleted, but had already written a story for. I don't remember the exact words, but I'll do my best to paraphrase. Was written with the help of my friend, editor and beta reader, @innermostthoughtsartappreciation **

'My 2 straight friends and I are going on vacation together. We went to our AirBnB but things have been weird since we got here. One of my friends seems more muscular than usual? He was already pretty tall but not he's really built. And last night I swear I heard my friends talking about sex in the other room or something? And this morning I woke up with a ring on my finger? Whats happening?'

You say this all started because you and your two friends went to an Airbnb? And you woke up with a ring on your finger?

In this case, what's happening isn’t some sort of elaborate conspiracy conducted by a shadowy cabal, nor is it some nefarious scheme by one of your friends/enemies to transform you to their liking, nor is it anything else of that sort. What happened here is very simple: you guys used the wrong AirBnB.

No doubt you all know that I’ve talked about EB Jewelry before. You know the jewelry company that transforms people using their products. They’re one of, if not, the biggest name in the transformation business. Still, there are plenty of other companies out there that use transformation devices and items. Most are much smaller than EB Jewelry and try to fly under the radar when it comes to being able to transform people, but they are still out there. Including the very AirBnB that you and your friends signed up for. Air-Boyfriend-and-Boyfriend. Usually only referred to as simply AirBFnBF by those who use it, they’re often mistaken for AirBnB. You probably think they should be sued for copyright infringement, but you are entirely wrong. It is shockingly near impossible to sue a company that uses magic, and not as shockingly completely not worth the hassle and complications it would cause. For a $70 billion company like the real AirBnB to sue.

Despite their similar-sounding names and acronyms, the two companies do wildly different things and cater to a rather starkly different clientele. Airbnb lets you rent different houses for short periods and market themselves for all people to use, while AirBFnBF lets you rent out different relationships for however you wish to be in them, and usually exclusively caters their services to gay men.

Here's how it works. Just like with Airbnb, you go into the app or on their website and you choose the place you want to stay at during the duration of your trip from the list of vacant places. Unlike AirBnB however, you also get to choose the people you want to become during your trip. You can customize whoever each party member becomes, and your relationship to and with each other. It’s a way for groups of people, though usually a couple, to try out different fantasies and sexual scenarios together.

What I believe must have happened was that one of your friends earnestly mistook the AirBFnBF app for the AirBnB app, and skipped the relationship settings page entirely because he didn’t understand what it was for what it was supposed to mean. Therefore, if he did do that, the app would have gone to a random fixed preset, which there aren’t a lot of for a group of three men.

I have a friend who works for AirBFnBF, and they told me you guys have probably been randomly assigned their most popular thresome preset: A Newlywed Throuple: consisting of a Hunk, a Muscle Daddy, and a Twunk. I know it sounds strangely specific, but you’d be surprised by just how many people love to use this one Throuple in particular.

You’re going to be in for a lot of surprises during these next two weeks. Including a new body, new memories, and a ludicrous amount of hot & steamy sex with your two new husbands. None of you will remember your true- selves until the two-week vacation rental is over. So until then, enjoy yourself!

That's what you’re supposed to do on a honeymoon after all. Your friends will probably be very confused when these two weeks are over. However, on the off chance they or you all enjoy being big gay hunks and having tons of hot & steamy sex with you or together, there is a permanent settlement option you can invoke. It cost a small fortune, but with how happy, hot, and horny the three of you are all acting together now, I'd bet anything you guys will make your money back in no time

[mrskokushibo]

Just this once

Kokushibo x afab!reader

Warnings: Sex, Smut, MDNI, NSFW, 18+, Kokushibo allows the reader to be a dom for the night, pegging.

Summary: In this atmospheric, steamy dark smut, you become Kokushibo's first-ever female tsugoku, but very soon, you realise that there is more to your relationship than just sword training... He will let you discover a side of him you never knew existed...and after that, you will crave more...

Masterlist

When the word spread that the powerful Upper Moon One was searching for a new tsugoku, things became hectic at the Infinity Castle’s trial grounds, the place where all the infamous blood battles were fought between the upper ranks and where the training of new talents was most frequently conducted. The place breamed with young cocky lower ranks, strutting around like peacocks, intimidating each other with their various physical prowess.

None of them seemed to display any above-level intelligence, and only one was wearing some form of katana. You were standing slightly to the side, watching, and being watched. You were not like any of them. They were all dwarfing you physically, but you did not feel insecure. You knew you had assets none of them possessed: intelligence, cunning, and a high level of swordsmanship.

‘Line up.’ A harsh command sounded through the courtyard.

Very quickly all the aspirants were standing in a neat row, a few were still giggling and talking. But then, as if with a cut of a sharp blade, silence fell almost instantly. An intrusive, oppressive darkness began to diffuse through the warm air, a feeling as if an invisible fire was claiming possession over every particle in its range. Was this what Hell felt like? No one was left unaffected, including the lower rank of the twelve Kizuki that was coordinating the selection event. Some were beginning to cough, showing signs of their breath not coping with whatever was invading.

A few moments later, and there he was. Upper Moon One, also called Kokushibo: the source of the hellish aura that claimed everyone’s strength. He was standing at the opening of the gate, in complete silence, commanding respect and instilling fear in even the cockiest of the young demons. A tall figure in traditional attire, with a fury of black hair and six burning red and golden eyes, a demon samurai, with a power born in the deepest forges of hell.

You have never encountered a presence this ominous. Not even Muzan-sama emanated this much darkness. If you did not know any better, Kokushibo might as well be the Demon King. Slowly and majestically and without uttering a word, he made his way to the end of the row and commenced his inspection of the candidates. You did not dare look up and so you fixated your gaze on a bunch of pebbles in front of your feet. After what felt like hours, you lifted your eyes only to note that he was now two demons away from you. You could hear him speak quietly in a deep and serious voice, a quick interrogation with just one short question: ‘What makes you think that you are worthy?’

And then it was your turn. You thought you knew how to answer, you prepared yourself for ages. This was all you ever dreamt of since you became a demon.

‘Master, I simply want to be the most loyal servant that you could ever have.’

You went silent, as no more words could make their way out of your constricted throat. He stood in front of you for what seemed like a bit longer than what he did with the others. It was almost as if his terrifying gaze softened for a split second. But then he nodded and moved on to continue the selection.

As soon as he reached the end of the row, he walked back to the gate and pointed his clawed finger … toward where you stood. Immediately, the cocky demon closest to you stepped out of the line believing it was him that was chosen. But quickly, he was put in his place.

‘Not you, you fool. You.’

Kokushibo’s voice resounded and filled the courtyard with almost as much power as his aura did. His finger moved slightly more in your direction and as if in a trance you stepped out of the line without him reprimanding you. So, it was … you…

‘Training begins tomorrow. Be ready when I summon you.’ And with that, he left.

The days that followed were a blur. His training was intense with very few breaks. He was a fair sensei, but you were exhausted after each day. He did not seem to lose any of his strength or stamina no matter how hard you were going at him in the sparring. He would not speak much to you either. Apart from instructions and commands, he was short and the hours were passed in silence. He did seem to, however, soften in his attitude toward you, almost so that you could at times spot a glimpse of an occasional faint smile and a softer gaze in his six eyes.

Weeks passed like this when finally, in the middle of a tough sparring match he suddenly paused and waved you in. Without any unnecessary pleasantries, he began to speak:

‘You are progressing well and I am confident that you are ready to learn a breathing technique.’

This was beyond you, as it was only Kokushibo, Kaigaku and the human Demon Slayers that possessed that ability.

‘Will you teach me Moon Breathing, Master?’ Your eyes were still wide in disbelief.

‘No, I do not think your body could handle it. We will devise a technique that suits your physique. After all, you are a female.’ A brief, faint smile graced his face only to disappear just as fast.

He noticed, of course, how wouldn’t he? With his constant transparent world ability, he must have known all along…

The truth was, that all your life, you were uncomfortable in the body your soul was allocated to at birth. A masculine spirit that was trapped in the body of a woman. For years you were rejecting your state, training hard in any martial art you could find, just to counter what the gods threw at you. You developed a slender and athletic physique, however, remaining feminine enough to attract looks. When you became a demon, you could at least attain a physical strength that surpassed any human male. And you were content with that.

As for your looks? Well, you tried to disguise your femininity as much as it was possible, wearing a traditional gi and hakama as well as having your hair cropped short with heavy bangs covering parts of your face. This gave you a fierce look as it was only one of your narrow and predator-like eyes that was visible at any time.

You were shaken out of your thoughts by Kokushibo:

‘Before we proceed with the breathing technique, I would like to offer you an evening of respite. A small reward for your dedication and hard work. I would like to invite you to my mansion for dinner tonight. Would you like to join me?’

‘Master, anything that pleases you is my delight. Thank you for the invitation. I will be honoured to join you.’

He was studying you for a moment, just as if something else was on his mind.

‘Good, I will send a servant to get you tonight then. Be ready at the edge of Infinity Castle. Now go, you are dismissed for the rest of the day.’

As you were making yourself ready for dinner, you could not help but ponder over the true reason he wanted to invite you over to his place. But you quickly dismissed these thoughts as they were foolish and disrespectful.

When the time for your appointment finally came, you were met by a quiet demon servant of Kokushibo. As soon as you stepped on the gravel path, the heavy mist descended seemingly out of nowhere, obscuring your view to only the faint light emitted by the lantern bobbing in front of you carried by the demon leading your way to Kokushibo’s mansion. It was as if you were led by an ignis fatuus, a mysterious will-o'-the-wisp. Everything was quiet, even the sound of your footsteps felt muffled by the heavy blanket of the surrounding fog.

Your progress was slow and it felt like the trip would never end, but before excessive wariness got hold of you, the mist slowly dispersed and you could make out the contours of a wall and a large building looming behind it. Your footsteps felt loud again as you stepped on the wooden bridge leading over the moat and toward the gate. All the time you were walking you asked yourself why wouldn’t he simply teleport you to him. But soon your thoughts got distracted by what became visible to you when you stepped through the gate.

The path led into a well-manicured, large garden, with a mixture of Sakura trees and smaller, ornamental flowers and bushes. Water was pearling in a nearby fountain and warm fires set in traditional lanterns illuminated the almost magical space. Neat gravel paths cut through the garden and to your left in the distance, you could make out what seemed like a training ground.

This would not be the end of your astonishment as very soon you were being let into the mansion itself. After leaving your zori in the shoji, the servant led you through a short, dark corridor and into the room where Kokushibo was awaiting you. You did not know what to expect out of the home of a powerful demon, but definitely imagined something ominous and not overly welcoming to visitors. Instead, you were met by an inviting, ambient space.

The tatami was covered with oriental rugs, there were bookshelves on the walls and various intricately crafted decorative objects emerged from the shadows and into the amber light of the multiple lanterns scattered around the room, as you were slowly making your way toward Kokushibo.

He was already seated at the far end of the room, the contours of his noble figure merging into the space, more resemblant of a statue than a person. He watched you in silence as you approached and pointed you to your seat with a subtle hand gesture. Just as in training, he was not emanating his aura, instead, a strange sense of peace was radiating from his being.

‘You look sophisticated tonight.’ The directness of the greeting took you aback. You did indeed make the effort to look your best, replacing your masculine outfit with a flattering silken, bronze, and gold-coloured kimono. You did not, however, expect him to take notice. You just felt it was in a good tone to show respect by wearing appropriate attire.

‘Thank you, Master. You too look great, as always.’ You almost bit your tongue at your ridiculous response. His reaction was almost comical as he was apparently attempting not to laugh.

‘Well, let us eat. I gather you must be hungry.’ You nodded to this, still recovering from your idiotic and clumsy earlier remark.

He nodded to the servant waiting at the door and a few minutes later an array of fragrant dishes was placed in front of you. As you both ate, he was slowly becoming more talkative giving you more courage to ask a question that was on your mind ever since the selection night.

‘Why did you decide to choose me, Master?’

‘Well, you were the only one of that sorry lot that displayed some promise, but also because you are a female and I was curious. Not once before have I had a female in my service.’

You could not deny that ever since you started training with him, you were slowly becoming more and more susceptible to him. You never thought a male could instill such feelings in your tough, masculine heart… So, you blushed at his response. He noticed that and smirked.

‘But I must ask you. Why are you covering up the fact that you are a woman?’

Your response was long and when you were done, you felt stupid for blabbering on like you did. But he did not show any signs of annoyance. Instead, he stood up and invited you to join him.

‘Come, I have something to show you.’ He walked over to the wall where a magnificent purple katana was placed on a stand.

‘Do you see this? It is a symbol and a reminder of my own transformation. This was mine when I was still a human.’ He lifted the sword off its stand and slowly pulled the blade out of its’ saya. Instantly, you backed off. It was a Nichirin. He noticed your action and continued talking.

‘Yes, it is a Nichirin. As you may or may not know, I used to be a Demon Slayer once.’ He sheathed the katana and placed it gently back where it belonged.

‘All I am trying to say is that we all go through transformations and life is not a constant.’

He moved closer to you, his hand now touching your shoulder. He was a bit too close for comfort, but something kept you in place, you wanted him this close… It was as if he could sense your feelings.

He leaned into you and whispered:

‘Excuse my impertinence, but have you ever been with a man before?’

Whether it was the closeness or the obvious meaning of his question, either way, you started to feel the familiar fluttering in your belly accompanied by spreading warmth and wetness slowly accumulating between your legs.

‘Yes, I have, but it was never…’ You started off shyly.

‘...good...Is that what you are trying to say?’ He finished your sentence for you and you nodded in response.

‘Well, how about I show you how it should really feel like.’ His deep, warm hushed voice was sending shivers down your spine.

‘Now, Master?’ was all you managed to whisper.

‘Yes, now. I cannot wait.’

With that, he lifted you up bridal style and teleported you both to his bedroom.

He set you down on the floor in front of him, cupped your face in his large, calloused hands, and gave you the softest flutter of a kiss. His hands were soon untying your obi and once it was off, your kimono came undone and he slowly removed it from your body. He stepped back, admiring you.

‘You are a work of art…’ He moved closer to you again, his hands caressing your breasts and back. His touch was firm but gentle, no one has ever handled you this well. With skilled hands, you untied the belts of his hakama and the obi holding his kimono in place and removed the entirety of his garments. You were both naked, warm bodies embracing each other in anticipation of the approaching pleasure. He started slowly guiding you toward the futon and when you were close enough, he commanded in a soft voice.

‘Lie down, I wish to pleasure you now.’

He positioned himself between your legs, your sex straight in front of his face. He looked you deep in the eyes as he dove in to lick the outside of your folds. His gaze did not drop yours as he started to spread your slick-covered labia to grant himself better access. He held them apart with the fingers of one of his large hands and buried his face between them, his tongue lapping up your juices, pressing down firmly, and moving at a steady pace. A finger was now tracing circles around your sopping opening, only to proceed to snake its way into your pussy.

Next, you could feel two fingers scissoring inside you, small, deliciously wet squelching sounds filling up the room. He was growing harder and needed some friction to not become too pent up, thus he pushed you further onto the bed so that he could rub his hard cock on the futon underneath him. He started groaning as his manhood finally received the desired pressure and proceeded to abuse your cunt at a more ferocious tempo, concentrating on the area around your clit. You were consumed by your pleasure, unable to do anything else but arch your back and moan, giving yourself fully into the waves of warmth washing over you. Your hands were desperately grabbing and pulling his hair and as he directed all his focus onto your clit, you began to edge, tears filling up your eyes.

He noted your inner muscles clasping hard down on his fingers and your thighs being sent into small convulsions. With a few hard and fast taps of the tongue, he sent you into your orgasm, making you scream and wail. While rubbing his aching hard dick back and forth into the mattress, his face got squirted with your juices and as he was lapping up your cum, he hissed:

 ‘I can’t hold back anymore, I’m coming.’ And so, he climaxed, spraying his seed onto the sheets beneath.

His own orgasm did not seem to distract him much as within a few breaths he was back to abusing your now overstimulated clitoris. The whole area between your legs was swollen and blood-filled and he was working you relentlessly.

‘Please stop, I can’t.’

‘Yes, you can and you will.’

His eyes had a playful cruelty in them as he kept on licking and rubbing you all over. Tears were pooling in your eyes from overstimulation and your legs were shaking beyond control.

‘This is too much, please..’ You were pleading in protest with a hitching voice.

‘I will pull one more out of you, even if we will be going for hours.’

He intensified his actions, increasing the pressure and strength and very soon you were overcoming the overstimulation and heading toward another climax. With a loud, throaty moan, grabbing hold of his mane for support, you reached another release. This one turned your mind into fuzz and you were simply lying there, splayed on the futon, like a wet rag doll.

‘I am not done with you yet. I need to be inside you.’

He spoke quietly while climbing on top of you and spreading your legs with his massive, strong thighs, his voice sunk an octave lower sending you into overdrive. He was huge, everything including his perfect, large cock was as if carved out of marble. You were tracing the outlines of his muscles, wiping the small droplets of sweat that glistened sensually on his smooth skin. He lowered himself on you, nearly crushing you with his weight, and kissed you, snaking his long demon tongue deep into your mouth. You reciprocated and it was as if the two of you were trying to devour each other. The fire of your passion burning your senses up to dust.

Meanwhile, he shifted his hips and you could feel the tip of his cock press against your gaping entrance. Your core was now aching and dripping so you took him in with ease. His length was filling up your pulsing and needy pussy, your clenching muscles milking him while already on the way in. He commenced thrusting into you, slowly at first but soon increasing his speed and intensity as guided by your savage moans. You were on the edge of consciousness. What he was giving you was beyond anything you could have ever expected. It was as if he was moulding your body to his and all you could do was to allow him to become the master of your senses. The fire inside your core was now intense and you felt that anytime soon, you would climax all over again.

But before that happened you could feel him grow inside you and his thrusts became harder and deeper. And then suddenly, his abdomen muscles contracted and with one deep push into you, he emptied himself painting your velvety walls with his warm, thick cum. As if his seed was the only thing able to extinguish the fire in your core, you came almost simultaneously, squirting all over again, causing you to fill up to the brim with both of your combined juices.

You closed your eyes as you were completely spent, with him still inside and on top of you, thick white slick running out of you and down on the sheets. He was kissing your cheeks and neck softly and when a whisper left his lips, it seemed as if you were deep in a hazy dream:

‘Next time I will grant a wish that I can sense lies in the depths of your soul. I cannot make you a man, I am not God, but I can help you feel like one for a night. Come back here tomorrow and I will make it come true.’

When you woke up the following morning, your body was still imprinted with the memory of his touch. The intensity of sensations kept your flesh nearly at boiling point, despite having been granted release so many times… You moved your hand to your groin and started pleasuring yourself, moaning louder and louder the closer you were to your imminent climax. With eyes closed and thoughts invaded by him, you rode out your high and collapsed exhausted.

You had a day off as Kokushibo was on a short mission somewhere. You took the opportunity to just sleep, eat and relax. After all, tonight would bring new intense experiences… You were equally anxious as you were excited.

With the approach of the night, you were once again led through the same misty path and to Kokushibo’s mansion. This time around, you were led directly into his private sleeping quarters. Tonight, the room was filled with candles and there were wine and various snacks next to the large futon. He greeted you with a deep, passionate kiss and went over to get something from a nearby side table. When he walked over back to you and before handing you the item, he lifted your head by the chin and looked you deep in the eyes:

‘Are you ready to fulfill your wish? Do bear in mind, however, that I would not do this for anyone else but you. Do you understand? So here, I think this will help you feel more, mhm, in character.’

He handed you the object and you were perplexed. You had heard of such a thing but never saw one in real life, let alone used one. It was a fake penis, made in black, shiny, and bouncy material, strapped to a bunch of belts. You must have looked confused as he interrupted your hesitance:

‘It is a strap-on. You use it as if it was your own cock.’ He smiled playfully and winked.

‘Let us see if you are up for it. And oh, I almost forgot.’ He went over to the side table again.

‘You will need this. To make it smoother for us both.’ He handed you a small bottle of oil.

‘Well then, Master, I want you to fuck me hard.’ His lewd and playful words almost made your jaw drop.

Quickly, you regained your composure, as a chance like this, granted by no other than the powerful Kokushibo, would most likely never arise again. You manned up and walked up to him. You grabbed him by his long ponytail and yanked his head back while undoing his clothes with your other hand. You nipped his exposed neck with your fangs and whispered:

‘I will make you scream in pleasure, by the end of the night you will be begging me for more.’

As you let go of his hair, he looked back at you, a mischievous smile lighting up his face. He seemed pleased with your performance, eagerly awaiting your next step. You nearly tore his clothes off him and pushed him onto the futon. You proceeded to deliberately slowly remove your own garments. He was watching you with a hungry look in his eyes, biting his lip and cocking his head playfully. When you were completely naked you grabbed the strap on and after a short moment of inspection, you put it on, making sure it sat on properly.

‘What would you like me to do now, Master?’ He spoke in a flirtatious tone. His cock was fully erect, small pearls of precum already running down the shaft.

‘Lay flat on your stomach.’ You commanded.

*This was starting to feel good*, you thought. Your initial astoundment with being allowed to treat your sensei like this was as if washed away. Instead, you began to feel a powerful adrenaline rush ripping through your body. You grabbed the bottle of lubricant and climbed onto the futon.

You crawled on top of him, pressing his hard cock even deeper into the bed, causing him to release a deep sigh. His huge, hard glutes felt so good under your hands when you were massaging him, spreading his buttocks, and landing an occasional spank.

‘Harder, please.’ He taunted you while lifting his head up and giving you a lewd smirk.

‘No looking.’ You riposted, surprised at your sudden firmness. But you did listen and spanked him harder this time, your hand leaving a red print on his firm flesh.

‘Yes, Master.’ He chuckled out and moaned when the hard spank pushed his hips as well as obviously his dick into the mattress.

‘Please, fuck me hard.’ He kept on taunting.

‘Quiet.’ Another hard spank landed on his ass.

This time he obeyed and you could get to the main course. After you poured some oil onto his buttocks, you started spreading it around, massaging, and using your fingers to prep him before the oncoming penetration. You poured more oil into the palm of your hand and spread it all over the black dildo attached to your groin. Without a word you positioned the tip of it at his entrance and slowly, but steadily pried your way into him. There was the faintest twitch from his hips and thighs, but very soon you could see him slowly pump his hips into the mattress as you were moving in deeper. His breath was heavy and apart from that he was now completely silent. No more bratty remarks nor comments seemed to be in place anymore.

As you began pumping in and out, his hip movements followed your rhythm. You were holding on firmly to his buttocks with both your hands, the feeling of being in this position made the already strong onslaught of adrenaline completely empower you as you felt a surge of strength and aggression run through you. You gritted your teeth as you increased your pace. You could feel your cum literally run down your thighs, you have never been this aroused in your life. It was as if you were turning into a wild beast with its own pleasure as the only goal.

You saw him move his hand to his groin, grabbing hold of his cock to speed up the nearing climax. You could see his arm muscles flex as he was pumping alongside the continuous hip thrusts into the mattress. You sped up again causing him to growl and as you pumped relentlessly, stimulating his prostate, his whole body contracted and he sprayed out cum all over the sheets and his chest with a loud growl.

Cautiously, you pulled out. You grabbed a towel from the bedside table and wiped him clean, removed the strap-on, and wrapped it in the towel, dropping it to the floor.

As you climbed off him, he was lying on his side, breathing heavily, his eyes fogged up with lust and the remains of the recent pleasure. His lips were parted and he was looking at you from under his bangs.

You crawled closer to him and gently rolled him on his back. His arms fell limp to the sides and his face lit up by another lewd smirk. Without a word, but looking him straight in the eyes, you wrapped your hands around his limp cock and started stroking it until hard. It did not take long to get him erect and very soon you were straddling him, sinking yourself down onto his thick length. Your excessive wetness made it easy to do it in one swift move that made him almost gasp for air, as you seated yourself fully, he was now essentially balls deep inside you. Without hesitation, you started bouncing on him, every hard movement creating the perfect friction and making you moan in pleasure. He tried to touch your breasts, but you batted his arms away.

‘No touching. Not until I tell you to.’

You could feel the pressure inside your core reaching the point of being almost painful. Chasing your own release, you leaned over him, your chest almost flat on his, and began humping frenetically. In your mind you imagined him being your little bitch and you her master, dicking her down with your large manhood. You were humping hard and fast, almost at the limit of what your thigh muscles could take.

‘Rub my nipples.’ You hissed out and he obeyed.

When your sensitive buds ended up being rolled between his long fingers, you started to lose control. The entire depth of your inner muscle clenching and milking him relentlessly. You lowered yourself down to his neck and sank your fangs into the skin while scratching his arms with your claws. And doing this pushed you over the edge, your orgasm sending shockwaves of pleasure as you screamed your lungs out.

You kept on humping him lightly even after your climax, but your movement was slowing down as exhaustion was finally catching up with you. That is when he caught you off-guard.

‘I would like to come too, Master. Please?’ He whispered in your ear, landing a powerful thrust into you, making you almost fall off him.

You looked him in the eye and began riding him as if in a trance. He was groaning quietly as you felt his cock grow and twitch. And as you increased your pace and licked the side of his neck, ending up nibbling on the lobe of his ear, he came, growling loud and spraying you full of his cum.

He wrapped his arms around you and you remained in his embrace for the rest of the evening. You were not sure what the future held, but right here, in this moment where time stood still, you were exactly who you were meant to be.

Tagging: @horror4themasses @muzansfangs @sunsblaze

Banner by @cafekitsune

[porcelainseashore]

Darkroom

Pairing: RE4R! Leon Kennedy x GN! Reader

Summary: You're a Sunday regular at the darkroom of your local nightclub, finding liberation through sex with random strangers and spontaneous encounters. One night, you meet someone whose touch feels different, and you connect in ways you never expected.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Smut, porn with plot, implied consent, anonymous sex, group sex, public sex (nightclub), voyeurism, anal, fingering, oral (m receiving), creampie, strangers to lovers, romance, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, drug references, swearing.

Author's Note: This is my first time writing gn! reader as I would like to be more inclusive in my work. I’ve also tried to educate myself on the discourse surrounding darkrooms and hope I’ve portrayed them respectfully, as safe spaces created by the gay community.

Special thanks to @alibellerosetta and @sofmoth for beta’ing this piece—you’re simply the best!

AO3 Link | Playlist

Fingertips trailing across the concrete walls of an old wartime bunker, its labyrinthine structure causing you to navigate by adventure and curiosity when you were new, but now, you had the entire layout committed to memory. You drifted through the haze of smoke and rooms—oh so many rooms—littered with nooks and crannies to engage in the kinds of deeds one would get up to in a nightclub like this. 

Brutal, fast-paced techno assaulted your ears, but you welcomed it as you did with the throngs of party-goers passing you by, like swimming through jellyfish and seaweed, in this maddeningly beautiful underwater world. All you could hear was a wall of sound and your own breathing, teeth chattering and chest throbbing as heavy bass reverberated through your body. If you stayed any longer, you would vaporize into thin air. And so, you plunged into the lower depths, down further passageways and corridors to your final destination.

People wouldn’t understand why you do what you do. Why you treated this club like a church—the only one you’d go to religiously every Sunday to get fucked within an inch of your life by complete strangers. Strangers you never saw, and would never meet again. 

You didn’t owe them an explanation, but truth be told, you felt far safer here than in most other places you’d been to. Too many close calls and red flags left you running away from that mess. Here, you were spoiled for choice. You could be whoever you wanted to be, without labels or judgment. Fucking was freedom and creativity. Fucking was an expression of yourself. Fucking was a big fuck you to society that tried to break you, moulding you into preconceived roles, telling you what you should or shouldn’t do.

Despite that, you knew what you were getting yourself into. Your PrEP shot was up to date and you tested frequently. Nothing was a hundred percent foolproof, but it was a risk you were willing to take. You were nearly there, following the invisible wisp of a white rabbit to its lair as the sweet, musky scent of lust and arousal grew stronger.

At the entrance of the darkroom, you paused, lifting your hand as a breeze sifted through your fingers. Funny how cold it could get down in the basement. You wondered if the ghosts of soldiers past could see you now—heart racing in your chest, adrenaline flooding your veins, and butterflies in your stomach—every single time without fail as you stood in front of the innocuous opening in the wall, like a gateway or barrier to another plane. What they would think as you stepped inside, agreeing to the unspoken code of conduct, where it was hunting season, and just like everyone else, you were game.

Inside, it was pitch black, so dark that you could not see, but you could make out the distinct sounds of sheets rustling, the shifting of bodies, light moans, and squelching wet kisses as you felt around the room, slowly putting one foot forward, and then the other, like the blind leading the blind. As your eyes adjusted to the surroundings, movements blurred at the corners, amorphous shapes materializing before you like a séance you had conducted. 

Sometimes you would catch a look, a nod, a gesture—silent, yet reminding you that what you were seeing was real. Hands passed along your body, and you imagined this must be what it feels like to traverse through clouds—touching, groping, feeling every part of you that you had bared to offer. Shedding clothes like this was so easy, like peeling away the layers of skin you had adorned to protect yourself. 

Someone else’s skin. 

Someone else’s face. 

A thousand masks you reaped and sowed.

Gone, all gone—until you were stripped to the core. 

The immense desire to be naked forever and never dressed again bubbled to the surface, burning a hole in your chest and getting caught in your throat.

A sudden smack against the cheek of your ass sent you reeling forward. The beds were damp as you sank upon them on your knees, gasping in sheer delight. The sting of it was buzzing, your ears filled with white noise as your hair was yanked backwards, mouths latching onto flesh, sensitive and bruising like ripened plum under teeth.

The room was warm and humid, sweltering even, but you couldn’t complain. Heat like that never looked bad on anyone. Sweat dripped from the pores of your skin, creating a thin layer of moonlit sheen. Tongues lapped at the moisture, prickly and salty, running over areas you never knew existed until the heady rushes you felt stated otherwise.

You grasped at the silhouette lying under you. It squirmed—wet, whining, and wanting. Breasts quivering, breathing in deep. Almost instantly, the grip on your hair loosened as you lunged forward, suctioning your lips over a peak, your fingers sliding through her folds, curling against her walls. 

Eventually, you were pushed on top of her, a heavy palm on the arch of your back, ribs crushing, tongues intertwining, and teeth clashing as other hands gripped her wrists firmly over her head. Your pelvises ground together as someone pounded into you from behind; her breasts bouncing violently against your chest with each thrust. The mattress sagged under your weight as it consumed you—suffocating, drowning—and you surrendered to it all in the darkness until you were nothing. A blank canvas, equal to the rest, finally seen as simply human.

You did the devil’s dance, flitting between partners, just as your parents did before you, and their parents—your grandparents—and their ancestors before them. Though instead of fucking raw, they had their own versions of the dance that they were too embarrassed to admit, leaving them forgotten behind closed doors and repressed memories.

Then, another pair of hands descended on your back, their knuckles caressing your shoulders with a bittersweet tenderness, taking you by surprise. Brushing your hair aside, you felt stubble scrape the nape of your neck, his kiss lingering a little longer than a second or two, as if afraid that by confronting you, you might dissolve between his fingers. 

Hot, shaky breath fanned across your ear, “May I?”

A baritone—rich, deep, and weary—with an edge to it like he had been through a never ending war. You wondered why.

In silence, you tilted your head, granting him easier access to your neck. You were his prey; he could bite in hard if he wanted to, but he only nipped—teasingly, playfully, savoring your taste, his large, coarse hands raking your body, gentle and unsure.

This wasn’t his first time; he was too composed for that. You searched for an answer as the tips of his fingers pressed dimples into your skin—temporary marks that spoke of his desire to make you his for the night. His touch ached so badly with longing, you could feel it seep into your bones. It hurt, everything hurt, as he buried his face into your neck, smothering the rest of his emotions along with it.

Someone once said, “The biggest lie we tell ourselves is that we should be ashamed of our feelings.”

But imagine if we weren’t? Your hand cupped over his. His breath hitched.

You knew shame like the back of your hand. A sickness and disease, taking root from within, its poisonous tendrils spreading out through every orifice until you couldn’t even scream.

Imagine if we weren’t. Your fingers laced through his. You squeezed. He squeezed back.

A secret morse code between the two of you as others started to gather around. Lying on your sides, he tugged you in closer, so that your back was flush against his chest. You stroked his arm, repeating the motion in cycles like a form of meditation.

He had you. You were his. He didn’t have to worry about that, even when you were being shared.

In return, he planted soft kisses along your spine as a ‘thank you’, causing you to shiver while he palmed your crotch. You felt his dick harden against the crevasse of your ass and you bucked your hips back into his. He let out a hiss, rubbing his erection in sync with your rocking, and you heard the sound of a lid cracking open.

At the same time, another person tweaked your nipples, licking, and sucking on them as you bit your lip and moaned. Lukewarm oil spilled onto your ass in a slow, deliberate stream, spreading like liquid silk. Even though you were ready—so ready—for this, with your hole wide and gaping from the butt plug you had worn in the day, and still leaking from previous use, he felt the need to prepare you. Circling your rim, he slipped one, then two fingers in, allowing the tight ring of muscle to clench around them as he stretched you out. When he pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance, you nearly sighed in relief, relaxing as he filled you up fully, slowly, and sensually, as if you were making love for the first time.

You melted like sweet, flowing honey in his arms, linked around your waist, hugging you tightly as his ragged breath grazed your cheek. Once you had settled in, it didn’t take long for him to pick up the pace. Your hands gripped his the entire time as he pumped his cock harder into you, friction firing up the bundle of nerves, causing you to cry out in wanton pleasure. 

It was only a matter of time before you caught a glimpse of another shadow joining from behind him, and felt the head of someone else’s member smear precum along your lips. You opened, submitting completely to the moment, its shaft dipping in and out of your mouth, your tongue swirling over its slit and ridge. Saliva dribbled down your chin as fingers tangled in your hair, grabbing it roughly to shove his cock in further, letting it hit the back of your throat as you choked and gagged. Tears ran down your face, ruining the black liner and glitter you’d decorated it with.

The hands that had been wrapped around yours gave them a long, hard squeeze, as if to ask, “Are you okay?” His worry and concern was your very own personal S.O.S., if you needed it. You brushed your thumb against his knuckles reassuringly, and he did the same, giving you two light squeezes in response, trusting in your decision.

At this, his hips snapped against your ass harshly, balls slapping skin as his thrusts grew more desperate, matching the intensity with which you were being fucked in the mouth, like a wordless competition—one vying for your affection. He slammed into your sensitive spot repeatedly, the sensations overwhelming like never before as your eyes rolled back—demonic and possessed—and euphoric waves rippled through your body.

He continued railing you until he couldn’t hold it in anymore. You felt his eyes shut, his mouth twist into a frown as he muffled his groans into your neck. He tensed and staggered, emptying a thick, hot load into your spent hole, just as the person in front of you pulled out, finishing himself off onto your face.

You coughed, sputtering as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. His dick was still in you, twitching as he rode out his climax, stroking your thighs, your hips, your ribs, before settling back on the curve of your ass. He kneaded it gently as you felt him pull out; his hands coming to rest around your waist. Raising your arms behind you, you circled them around the back of his head, pushing his face into your hair as both of you lay there—still and quiet—panting heavily and covered in fluids, his cum trickling out of your heat. You felt the uneven, taut patches that littered his skin, along with the rise and fall of each other’s chests—an empty space in the cavity growing more deafening with each passing second in the sparse room.

The clock continued ticking until you finally decided to turn around, facing the man who had fucked you so hard you thought you might break. All at once, he drew closer, lips on lips, kissing you like he meant it. You kissed back sloppily, running your fingers through his sweat-drenched hair as he cupped your cheek—grasping, craving, needing more. 

You didn’t know what to make of this connection he and you felt. The way his heart beat with loneliness, and yours responding in kind, whispering in a similar rhythm, “I’m here. I see you.” It was far more intimate than any experience you’d ever had in a darkroom. And you panicked.

Breaking away, you spotted a tuft of his matted blonde tresses, his sharp, brilliant blues, and your eyes darted towards the way out. Before he could speak, you got up, his hand catching your wrist, tugging, pulling—please, I want you, don’t go, please—until you snatched it back, and he let you.

You touched his face, thumb brushing across his bottom lip—swollen and weeping, a final ‘thank you’ for something special the two of you had shared. One where you lied to yourself, treating it as a mere passing moment in your life, fearing that anything more would ruin the illusion held together by anonymity. Picking your clothes up from the floor, you slipped off into the light and safety of crowds, ignoring the pang in your chest as the distance between you and him grew.

━━━━━━━━━━━

What if things had gone differently? 

What if you had let him talk? 

Say the words he wanted to say. Rip his chest open. Pour his heart out into your awaiting cup.

What if it was meant to be more?

What if, what if, all the what ifs.

You sat on your chair, legs crossed and pulled into your chest, thinking back to that encounter over and over again. A cheap desk fan blew hot, desert wind in your direction, its plastic blades rotating sluggishly, hardly helping in the current heatwave. Clumps of hair stuck to your forehead and the sides of your face as you closed your eyes, reminiscing his ghostly touch along your body, sore and aching, fighting fire with fire.

Five nights had passed, and you couldn’t get him out of your mind. It was three in the morning, you had work in a few hours, but he was all you could think about. During the day, you walked around in a vacant daze, and now, you were stoned, staring up at the ceiling, wondering what the hell happened.

You fucked yourself with your fingers, imagining it was him fucking you. 

And then, Sunday came.

━━━━━━━━━━━

You saw him everywhere that night—through the tide of music, in the mirrored reflections, blonde locks catching the light, only to be let down. You didn’t know what he looked like, the only memory being a static cloud of darkness before your eyes, but somehow, you knew that you would be able to tell if it was him.

Like a moth to a flame, you made your way towards the darkroom, all the while hopelessly wondering if he would be there where you had found him last, waiting patiently, like a dog to its owner for their return. When you entered, a swarm of hands skimmed along your private parts—foreign and alien as you swallowed your disappointment, losing yourself in others’ company, though you had never felt more alone.

One more.

Another.

The next—

You’d recognize that touch anywhere. His calloused hands across your jaw—tentative, tracing your skin like scorched earth, his yearning fulfilled when you took his fingers into your mouth, coating them with your taste.

“It’s you…” he murmured, his velvety voice, laden with emotion, slipping into your ear, causing you to shudder.

His fingers slid out over the dip of your tongue as he replaced them with his lips, devouring yours fervently as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Knowing him was like a crime, but you gave yourself the permission to want him this way.

A jarring flash of light blinded you, followed by a burst of giggles, rudely interrupting your chance meeting. You whipped your head in its direction, shielding your eyes as you squinted at white powder vibrating on illuminated phone screens.

“Take your fucking drugs somewhere else!” someone yelled.

By the time you turned back, the light went out again, plunging you into utter darkness. 

Did you lose your power of anonymity?

Had he seen you for who you were now?

Would he judge you like the rest?

You felt his hand in yours, light brushes against your inner palm in the secret language you shared. No, this wasn’t the right place for what you wanted, and you had to respect that—both of that.

Fuck feeling ashamed of your feelings. 

You threw out your inhibitions, dragging him through the opening as he followed you into the light. You saw him clearly now, just as he saw you. Scars of all shapes and sizes across his body, matching the bumps you had felt in the dark—now laid bare and vulnerable in full public view.

You didn’t care, and he didn’t seem to either, clasping your face between his hands as he pushed you back, mouth squarely on yours, teasing it open. He hoisted your legs, hooking them around his waist as he buried his cock into you. Fucking you relentlessly against the wall, rugged concrete chafing skin as you jerked upwards, meeting his thrusts. 

It was rushed, frantic, and hungry, like you would vanish before his very eyes at any minute. A new DJ set had started, drowning out your screams as you dug your nails into his shoulders, clawing angry, red marks into his skin. Trembling, feverish lips wet on your chest, sucking and leaving bites in flesh as others watched, or masturbated while they watched—voyeurs to your private scene.

You clung to each other, his grip bruising on the back of your thighs, not wanting to let go—not this time, not now, not ever. Funny how you found it comforting—the way he held your gaze, unflinching and calm, as you reached your high, like he was seeing right through you—melting flesh from bone, prying the cavern open to find a scared little rabbit, and the rage frothing at your teeth.

And you knew that he understood that feeling too.

He came in you soon after, muscles clenching as he pinned you to the wall, ropes of his release filling you deep. His breath escaped in loud rasps, stray strands of his bangs fluttering in the breeze.

“God… fuck…” he gasped, before his eyes found yours again, the corners of his mouth curling into a smile as he laughed.

You laughed back.

He set you down on the floor—your legs wobbly, gaze shy—exchanging soft caresses, oblivious to the rest of the world around you. You leaned in, kissing him spontaneously as you felt his smile against your lips.

“So, you got a name?”

“Mm-hmm.” He kissed you once more, exhaling it like a sigh—“Leon.”

And you didn’t feel like the magic was lost in any way.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Endnotes

Fyi, I created a playlist for Darkroom in case you want to check it out. All songs are from The xx and their music contributed a lot to the mood of this piece!

I also saw Timimie Märak, a poet, feminist, and Sámi queer activist, at a literary festival recently, and I really liked what they said: “The biggest lie we tell ourselves is that we should be ashamed of our feelings,” which has appeared in my fic above.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Code of Conduct 5

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss has a difficult time keeping his personal life from bleeding into his work. 

Characters: Steve Rogers, this reader is known as Rosie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

Mr. Rogers leaves without saying a word. His face is pale as his hand opens and closes in a fist at his side and he strides past your desk. You watch after him, thinking for a moment that you should follow. No, he has to sort this out on his own. You’ve already done too much. 

You go through his calendar and cancel his only other meeting. You don’t think that’s going to happen.  

It’s strange sitting there alone. Mr. Rogers comes and goes often but not know when he’ll be back puts you on edge. An hour passes then another. You spend your lunch outside in the sunshine then come back in to the stale office air. 

Your phone rings and you answer. You’re surprised when Rogers’ voice comes from the speaker. You expected it to be Dizzie for some reason. She’s been awfully quiet today. 

“She changed the locks,” he croaks. 

There’s static on the line and thrum that’s so loud it nearly drowns him out. 

“Sir?” You sit up straight. 

“Peggy. She locked me out. I don’t... I don’t know what to do. I’ve just been sitting here in my car...” his voice is a dull murmur. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers. Is that—can she do that? Can you call your lawyer? The police?” 

“Police told me to call the lawyer. Lawyer says it’s gonna take a while so... yeah.” 

“I’m so so sorry,” you touch your cheek. “I can’t even imagine... that’s horrible.” 

“Yeah, I mean, who would leave you, Rosie? No, that’d be crazy.” He sniffles, “guess I deserve this. I worked so much, all so I could give her the life she wanted but it turns out I worked just enough to drive her away.” 

“Sir,” you utter. 

“Guess I could go to a hotel. I mean, might as well spend the money before I have alimony to pay,” he laughs crisply. “Bucky’s not picking up. I thought maybe I could stay there but... just because my life is falling apart doesn’t mean he needs to pick up the pieces.” 

He sounds so broken it makes your heart rend. Something about his cadence also worries you. He doesn’t sound healthy. 

“Sir, where are you?”  

You realise then what that noise is. Water. 

“By the bridge. The water looks cold.” 

You swallow and stand up. “I’ll come to you, alright?” 

“Rosie? Why...” 

“Just, it’s okay, sir, I’ll be there. Is that Collingswood Bridge? I love the flowers there.” 

“Yeah, that’s the one,” he answers. 

“Alright, I’m on my way okay, so let’s stay on the phone.” 

“Rosie, why do you sound so upset?” 

“I’m not upset. I just think you need a friend so I’m coming. Did you want me to message Mr. Barnes as well.” 

“I told you, he’s too busy for me,” he mopes. 

“But just in case--” 

“Oh, woah!” He exclaims. 

“Sir, what--” 

“Nothing, nothing, I just... this bridge is so high up.” 

You tamp down your worry and take a breath, “sir, I canceled your meetings. Oh, did I tell you, they’re opening a new donut place downstairs too! I know your favourite is the one with the sprinkles.” 

“You remember,” he says softly.  

“Of course, sir,” you assure him. 

You keep chattering about nothing in particular as you swipe up your bag and race out of the office. You try not let him hear you panting as you rush down to catch a cab. You mute the phone to tell the driver to head to the bridge then get back on the line. 

The conversation rolls on as you don’t let Rogers stop talking. You get out with a hasty thanks and tip to the driver. You rush down the bridge without looking ahead and only after you’re halfway down do you see your boss sitting on the railing. Holy moly. 

You slow and walk up to him slowly, letting out quiet mhm’s and uh huhs and you grab onto his forearm. He flinches and you tug on him. You won’t be able to stop him from going over if he slips but you didn’t want to just call out to him and give him a warning. 

“Rose!” He looks at you and lowers his phone. “How’d you get here?” 

“Mr. Rogers, please, will you get off the railing?” You ask softly. 

He stares at you then looks out at the water. He laughs and turns to hang his legs over the inside of the bridge. “Sure, Rosie. Were you worried?” 

“I just wanna make sure you’re okay, sir,” you cling to him until he’s on his feet. He glances down at you grip and you finally let go. 

“I’m good. I’m great, now that you’re here. Did you find me a room yet?” He asks. 

You wince. You’ve been on the phone this whole time. When does he think you did that? 

“Are you okay?” You ask. 

“Of course, of course,” his eyes are red from tears, his cheeks pallid and streaked. 

“Um, I’m sorry, everything’s booked up,” you say, “how about you come to my place? You can stay on my couch. Just for tonight.” 

“Really?” His brow wrinkles, “you’d do that for me?” 

“Uh, yeah,” you answer. You don’t think leaving him alone right now would be smart. Nor could you forgive yourself if anything happened. “It’s fine. My place is just a bit small.” 

“Mm, I don’t mind,” he smiles and pushes his shoulders up in a shiver as a breeze blows across the water. “It’s cold out here.” 

“It is, sir,” you agree. “Where did you park?”