#Hell Spot of exertion and time

[rulesforthedance]

I could probably take 30-45 seconds off my 5k PR, but I'm not masochistic enough to find out

[woantohae]

Shadow || (Bob Reynolds "Void" x reader)

Summary: Y/N loved the darkness because she could see the stars better. Void does everything in his power to make sure she can gaze at the starry sky, even if it means turning everything into darkness.

Author's note: I'm counting the days to see Thunderbolts, and the premiere is getting closer and closer. Who else is excited?

In the comments, tell me any ideas for a future Bob one shot, if you want <333

《tags: angst, fluff, void having a soft spot for the reader, mentions of hydra, dark past and the void》

It was midnight, and the girl still couldn't get to sleep. This wasn't a surprise, since she hadn't been able to get a good night's sleep since Hydra took her prisoner.

All the times they took her from one room to another to experiment on her, the brute force they exerted on her when she resisted, the blows, bruises, and the cold that accompanied her at night had taken a serious toll on her. And the only witness observing all these atrocities were the stars.

Little Y/N constantly looked at the stars at night through the small windows on the roof of the experiment lab every time Hydra had her captive with their vile intentions to make her their lab rat. One more pawn in their chess game and manage to have everything at their disposal. She took refuge in them, thinking about how beautiful they looked, far from all the pain she'd experienced. Far from all the evil and harm she'd had to endure at such a young age.

She dreamed of going to the stars to find peace and quiet, but when she turned 18, she realized that would never happen. All the people she'd had to murder in cold blood because if she didn't, she'd suffer the consequences. Then, she had no choice but to end their lives.

At 24, she was able to escape Hydra's clutches when Bucky Barnes came for her on a mission led by the Avengers. She felt relieved to see she'd be safe, but it didn't last long. Thanos's snap happened, and they had to fight him, and the Avengers were nothing more than a name after that. Valentina then gathered them together so they could be her new pawns protecting the land, but everything went to hell when they discovered that their new friend Bob also turned out to be a villain, or rather, his other self: The Void.

Over time, they were able to help him calm his entities, which were constantly battling to emerge into the light or the darkness. Usually, Bob did it himself, but when it got too much, Yelena, Bucky, and Y/N were able to bring him back.

The night was starry, making Y/N feel peaceful and calm, despite hearing the noise of New York City down below. All the city lights dimmed the stars, so it wasn't the same compared to the nights she was in the lab. She settles onto the deck railing and sighs, still feeling the ache in her shoulder from today's mission. The is so absorbed in the sky, that she doesn't notice the shadowy presence of Void watching her from afar with his arms behind his back.

While Bob slept, Void could be present at night. He had nothing to do but prowl the compound, as most people were sleeping peacefully. Especially Alexei and John, who snored as if their lives depended on it. So seeing Y/N on the terrace seemed to make his night a lot more interesting, especially since Void had taken a liking to the girl.

He wanted to be able to say that he liked the rest of the team's presence, but he would be lying through his teeth if that were the case. However, with Y/N ​​it seemed to be different, because she wasn't loud, or bossy, or sarcastic with her comments, and she wasn't 24/7 trying to get rid of him when Void took control. On the contrary, she was quiet, spoke when she needed to, and always acted in an understanding manner, making Bob's dark entity feel a little more welcome.

Void takes slow steps toward her.

"Shouldn't you let Bob rest?" she asks, still keeping her back to him.

He smiles amusedly and comes to her side, leaning an elbow on the railing so his body is turned toward her. And his attention is focused on her only.

"He's asleep," he replies simply. "When the poor guy falls asleep, I can go out and get some fresh air."

Y/N glances at him and smiles slightly.

"Now tell me, what are you doing up so late?" Void asks.

Y/N bites her cheek for a second, debating whether or not to tell this guy what's going on in her head. She'd learned to be careful around Void when he appeared, not wanting to provoke him into losing control like last time. However, he had proven that he is capable of controlling himself, as long as no one overstepped his boundaries, and by boundaries he meant not confronting him.

The girl looks into his eyes and notices the darkness with which they stare at her, but somehow they don't make her feel uncomfortable or afraid.

"I can't sleep," she declares. "Ever since I was a kid, I've had trouble sleeping because of everything I went through at Hydra."

Void remains silent, waiting for her to continue, his brow furrowed slightly.

"All the times they experimented on me and..." she sighs and closes her eyes for a moment. "Anyway. There used to be a space in the ceiling where I could see the stars, that way I could think about something else while Hydra got their filthy hands on me to turn me into their weapon. Every time I looked at the stars, I thought about how calm and peaceful they were, wishing I could be like them while i was in hell"

Void looks down for a brief moment as he listens to her, feeling compassion for her. While he fed off people's fears brought on by the same darkness he inflicted on them, he couldn't imagine what had happened to Y/N. He was in conflict with himself for feeling that way about the girl, because he shouldn't. He swallows at the feeling, trying to get rid of it.

"Now I try to look at them whenever I can't go to bed, trying to get back to sleep, but it's hard to do with all the lights in New York City," she lets out a humorless laugh.

Void scans the girl's face as she looks up at the sky, and without thinking about the consequences, he raises a hand and begins to let the darkness flow over the city, turning everything dark.

Y/N frowns at this and watches as Void stares at her as he envelops the city in darkness with a single wave of his hand. Everything is blacked out, and she can hear the commotion of people in the streets below.

"Void..." she says hesitantly.

"It'll just be a second," he says confidently. "You wanted to see the stars, didn't you? I gave you the stars to gaze at. Enjoy it."

Y/N knows she should refuse because this could affect the entire city, but her selfish side decides for her, making her look up at the sky and contemplate the stars more clearly. They are bright, and there are more than she had counted before darkness enveloped the city.

Y/N leans on the railing and smiles slightly as she feels the night breeze.

"Thank you," she thanks Void, while continuing to admire the starry sky, feeling at peace.

"You owe me, Y/N," he says, resting his hands on the railing, still looking at her.

She smiles sideways and nods.

"I think it's worth it," she says. "It's beautiful. Don't you think?"

Void nods and agrees.

"It is beautiful, indeed," he says in a low tone.

But what the girl doesn't know is that he isn't referring to the stars, as he has no interest in them at all. He's referring to her, and the brightness of her eyes that overshadows the stars. Void decides it's his new favorite thing to admire, and if he had to darken everything in his path again so Y/N could enjoy it, he'd do it a thousand times over.

[delirious-donna]

“So… you’re saying you wanna see if you can outrun me? Really? Are you sure?”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. “Yes, Daichi, that’s what I’m saying. It’s a cute trend I saw last night when I was scrolling on my phone!”

“Me, your husband who runs five miles every day…” he continued, amused as hell but still unconvinced. “Oh, and it’s Officer Sawamura if we’re really doing this.”

That made you falter. Your eyes snapped up to meet his dark ones that were twinkling with amusement whilst something wicked hid in the shadows. Your stomach flipped over and suddenly you weren’t so sure anymore.

“Not backing out are ya?” Daichi teased, unzipping his sweatshirt and shaking out his arms and shoulders. The man was sculpted from marble, and was it hotter now? It sure felt like it was.

“N-never!”

“Atta girl.” He stepped closer to press a kiss to your hair, leaning down, his lips brushed your ear. “Now run.”

Never, in all your days, had you run so fast. It felt like at any moment your feet would leave the ground and you’d take flight. The grass of your back garden crunched under foot as you tried desperately to focus on the faraway fence.

It was near impossible to stop yourself from looking back, the desire to turn your head was overwhelming, but you managed to keep your head forward by the skin of your teeth. If you saw him coming for you, you’d panic and it’d be over.

In truth, it was a damn blessing you couldn’t see him.

Daichi was zeroed in you like a hunting dog; his stance low, thighs and arms pumping as he gave chase after a rather generous three second lead. You’d have cum on the spot if you witnessed the look in his eyes, the determination and sheer magnetism that radiated from every pore.

The fence was getting closer. For the first time you actually thought you might make it, you might win and prove that you could outrun him if you wanted. That was your biggest mistake—believing that he wasn’t right behind you.

With a whoosh, the air from your lungs emptied, an arm of steel wound around your middle and the next second you were staring at the sky. Daichi hoisted you up with only one arm, spinning you around until you had recovered enough breath to laugh. Your feet kicked, your arms flailed, but his hold never wavered. Not until he wanted to throw you over his shoulder.

Upside down and still breathless from a mixture of the exertion and uncontrollable laughter, all you could do was reach out for any part of him. You fisted his shirt, and in a moment of madness, reached out to smack his ass.

Daichi paused in his walk back to the house, snaking a hand to your thigh to give a firm squeeze. “Did you just assault a police officer? That’s a pretty hefty crime, miss.”

Before you could retort, your devilish husband landed smack after smack on your backside. His strikes alternated between sides but they came one after another in quick succession, the sound of his palm hitting your rump cracking through the air.

Your yelps and moans were only muffled by the fist you shoved into your mouth, praying your neighbours weren’t looking out their windows to see your flushed face and how Daichi groped at your ass.

Only once you were inside did he let you down.

Daichi clicked his tongue against his teeth, using one hand to whirl you round to face the wall. A boot kicked your feet apart, widening your stance and forcing you to brace your palms on the wall to stop yourself from sliding to the floor.

“Colour?” he murmured softly, his larger body framing yours but not touching, just waiting.

“Green.”

His answering hum sent shivers down your spine, followed by the trail of his hands. Daichi frisked you in a way you hoped he’d never frisk anyone else; he fondled yours breasts, skimmed your curves up and down before reaching around to cup your pussy possessively.

“Officer Sawamura!” The name came out breathless and playful, your heart hammering but no longer from the run, it was all for what might happen next. “This isn’t very professional.”

He spun you around, steadying your shoulders so you didn’t stagger sideways and tilted your chin up with a sharp jerk of his thumb. The black of his pupils had bled outward to make his eyes even more dark. The sharp focus as he dragged his gaze down the length of you was enough to have you squirming on the spot.

“No backchat, I’m not done searching you.”

Your eyes narrowed, a bit of bravado returning. “For what?”

“Stolen goods,” he answered without missing a beat.

What the heck was he talking about?

Daichi let his hand rest around the column of your throat, slowly he moved it down past your sternum and abdomen until his fingers slid past the stretchy waist of your leggings. He reached the edge of your panties and pushed beneath them until he was again cupping your pussy, but this time, naked.

“This… this is mine.”

A thick finger pressed deeper between your warm folds, stroking from clit to entrance to perineum and back again. The whole time he watched your face, he took in your expressions as they shifted from confusion to realisation to toe curling excitement.

You were almost on your tiptoes, clutching at your husband’s broad shoulders for the much needed stability to remain on your feet, and each drag of that one finger made your knees knock dangerously. The digit circled your clit with deliberate, slow precision, a rakish grin spreading on his face when you exhaled a shaky whine.

“I don’t hear you denying it,” Daichi said, voice lower now, more husky. You could feel the warm tickle of his breath on your face, sharing the same air whilst he toyed with you.

Another finger slid deeper, and you rolled higher onto your toes. He fingered your entrance and held your gaze, his free hand carefully tilting your head up when it started to droop, your eyes fluttering in your need of more.

“Tell me it’s mine and I’ll be lenient on you. First offence and all… actually, second.”

You licked your parched lips and rocked your hips subtly. “It’s yours, Daichi, always has been… but what was my first offence?”

The question hung in the air as he leant down to capture your lips in a fierce, loving kiss. He was firm but careful, nipping at your lips until you granted him access for his tongue to entwine with yours.

At the same time, he pushed two fingers into you and massaged the slick gummy walls of your cunt. He urged you to grind against his hand, stimulating you until you were shaking all over. Only then did he answer.

“You stole my heart.”

an: based on this thought and with credit to @mitsuwuyaa for feeding my daichi brain rot further. 💜 this is selfship coded cause everything I write for daichi is based on me as the reader (sorry not sorry 😆)

[dukeswonderousmenagerie]

Zoeystery HC PT2

pt1 here

Give me a Zoey who feels so bad for Mystery; watching him day in and day out not being able to turn into his full demon form and as a result being so exhausted and uncomfortable in keeping his human form for so long.

Give me a Zoey that's tired of watching him be so miserable and lethargic that she comes up with a plan where late at night when the city is asleep, she and him take a walk out at night.

She knows his “true” form is a lot different than the others; but even still Zoey tries to convince the rest of the girl's to at least allow Mystery the opportunity to shift once; to just at least let him stretch out so he would be less miserable.

But the girls always say no. That it’s too dangerous, especially him. And despite how upset she is about their ruling, she understands their point and stance on it.

Mystery's behavior has always led her to believe often that whatever form he hides can’t pass for human, let alone humanoid much like the other demon's they've encounter, even the Saja Group themselves. And because of that the girls don’t want Mystery, much less any of them shifting. It's too risky.

But Zoey can't just sit by and let Mystery deflate. Instead, unbeknownst to the others, on one of their walks late at night, Zoey shows Mystery her surprise for him-

A large city park.

Zoey knows this place well, but Mystery does not, completely unaware of its significance. It’s wide open, and its spacious and vastly deserted around the same time almost every night. Because of this, it’s just the right spot where he can basically “free-roam” in his demon form in private without worrying about being caught just as long as he stays on the perimeter of the parks boundary and doesn’t sneak off into the middle of the city by mistake.

Imagine the first time she takes him there, a vast open area where the trees are tall and the trails are long and there’s a few ponds that babble water from aged statues.

A place where she essentially allows him to go “off-leash” and you can tell even with his face covered before she even has a chance to do that, that he picks up what this is all about quickly

and by then he’s excited

Even Zoey notes to herself that while he doesn’t express his desire vocally, Mystery's muscles are twitching and he’s antsy and pacing like a horse waiting for turn-out time. Hell even his patterns are starting to flash a little, less purple, more silver, a light pulse of moonlight under his skin.

And the moment she finally “lets him roam” it’s like all that energy built up finally explodes, and Zoey just takes the time to admire not only his true form, but also the speed and agility and almost gracefulness Mystery basically oozes in this form as he romps about without a care in the realm, disappearing off into the tree's. 

Zoey understands why Demons at their full potential are dangerous, but even weaker by lack of changing in such a long time; watching Mystery dart between tree’s and even attempt to climb and bounce off them one at a time amuses her rather than terrifies her.

Because if she’s not mistaken. . .she thinks she can hear him. . . laugh

He tries to hunt small animals too while he’s there, whatever he can get his claws on just to feel the thrill of a hunt that doesn’t require the need of his voice to lure in helpless souls to feast on. But he’s clumsy; it’s been a bit, but he doesn’t mind nor does it matter much, because for the first time in what probably felt like forever 

he feels free

Zoey knows this is a bad idea. What will the other girls say when they find out she let a full-on demon roam free and loose in the city. 

But when Mystery finally comes back around sometime after, panting, his muscles actually shaking with exertion, his body both loose like a ball of yarn but taunt like a stretched rubber band, she realizes that for the first time she doesn’t care what they think or what they will say.

Because even with all the space and freedom that he has been given, all the trees he’s been given to lounge about in their branches.

even with all the newfound sense freedom

he still chooses to spend his time as close to her side as possible

_ _ _ _

Zoey and Mystery spend the rest of the night at that park all the way up to the early morning. They walk, they talk, they watch the moon, stare at the stare, watch the fish who turn about in the ponds and distort the waters with soft ripples. They take in the silence, spending so much of their time and lives under the spotlight that for just a moment they enjoy whatever peacefulness they can be granted for the time being. 

On occasion Myst often also sometimes shifts back and forth between his human and his true-form once in a while. It’s to stretch out. It’s to make sure that everything is in working order; he’s known demons who never after such a long time, fully switch back and forth with such ease, and he doesn’t want to risk getting stuck or whatever fresh hell could greet him.

There are some mess-ups, of course, normally with his teeth, where his tusks get stuck protruding from the corner of his mouth, or how his hair doesn’t go back to the right length and extends instead like a mane against his shoulders

And call her a monster-fucker if you must, but there’s something delicious about seeing the long-hair, tusk combo that drives Zoey nuts. But even more so, disregarding all that, Mystery looks different. But it’s not in his looks per say more so it’s in his demeanor.

He genuinely looks happy. 

Loose

Carefree; she isn’t sure she’s ever seen him smile so much and the more she looks the more she falls for him. . .

As the night wanes in, they find a little spot in a hill overlooking a majority of the park out past the city. By now it’s around the point where the night-lights start going off as the sun rises.

The day is muted and the view is gorgeous and sometime after sitting down, Zoey begins to doze. 

Mystery on the other hand is strumming with adrenaline. The after effects of which has his patterns pulsing in tune with his inhuman-heart. But the strumming of his patterns, least that which she can see is relaxing and as a result Zoey falls asleep watching them. 

Mystery doesn’t even notice, staring out at the view, until he hears a soft chime coming from her pocket.

It’s Zoey's phone; the little device left entirely forgotten during all their escapades. She hadn’t turned it off, simply ignored it. So when he looks at it he notices there’s a numerous amount of missed calls on it and text’s as well. 

They had forgotten about the others and upon realizing that, for a split moment Mystery is tempted to wake her up, to tell her they have to go now. 

And he nearly does; he nudges her gently so as not to wake her up immediately. But when she twitches in her sleep and he feels her head press softly against his hip; he forgoes doing that entirely. They can be mad at him later. She can be mad at him for it later for all he cares.

For now however. . .

He brings his head up, breaths in, flares his nostrils. Besides them there’s no scent old or new of anyone else around the area. In fact if he had to guess correctly, they were probably the only two who knew about this spot.

Fine by him he thinks and he shifts back to his true form, and carefully lays her next to him.

After all, call him selfish if you must, if you find him to be worthy of that title

but freedom

this view

and now Zoey by his side?

I think he’s entitled to a little bit of selfishness this time around

[skzstarl0ver]

𝙂𝙮𝙢 𝘽𝙧𝙤

Changbin x reader / friends to lovers / jealous! Changbin/ smut and kinda fluff

**involves!!** public sex, teasing, praise kink, sexual touch, dirty talk, 'you are mine' vibe

enjoy xx (open for request)

★.•☆•.★★.•☆•.★¸.•☆•.¸★ skzstarl0ver ★⡀.•☆•.★⡀.•☆•.★¸.•☆•.¸★

You weren’t sure how exactly you ended up here—doing Romanian deadlifts at 9AM, sleep in your eyes and thighs already trembling—but it definitely had something to do with the loud, sweaty, infuriatingly attractive man currently shouting encouragement from behind you.

“That’s it, keep your back straight. Yeah, just like that,” Changbin said, voice annoyingly smug. “You're doing so good, bro.”

You glared at him through the mirror.

“Stop calling me ‘bro’ when you’re basically breathing down my neck.”

He grinned, not the least bit sorry. “I’m your gym bro. That’s literally in the contract.”

You huffed, lowering the weights carefully. “I don’t remember signing a contract.”

Changbin shrugged, handing you your water bottle like the menace he was. “Verbal agreement. You said—and I quote—‘fine, if you stop whining, I’ll go to the gym with you.’ That holds up in court.”

You rolled your eyes, trying not to think about how his hand brushed yours for half a second. Or how good he looked in that black tank, arms practically audible with how jacked they were. This was fine. You were fine.

Just friends.

You’d been telling yourself that for months—ever since you moved into the same building and he offered to show you the gym “because it’s less creepy if we go together.” What started as two friends trying to not embarrass themselves doing squats turned into protein shake mornings, late-night core challenges, and Changbin texting you every time you missed a workout like some kind of jacked golden retriever with abandonment issues.

But somewhere between shared sweat towels and spotting each other mid-bench press, you started noticing things.

Like the way his eyes always found you in the mirror.

Or how he always picked the machines closest to you.

Or how he never looked at anyone else the way he looked at you when you hit a PR.

And maybe you were imagining it, but lately… things felt different. He stood a little closer. Let his fingers linger on your lower back when correcting your form. Gave you this look when you stretched after workouts—like he was trying really hard not to say something.

You weren’t imagining that. Not today.

Because today, someone else was looking at you.

Changbin noticed him first. Some guy from the other side of the gym, shirtless under an open hoodie (the audacity), clearly checking you out mid-set. You hadn’t noticed—you were too busy wiping sweat off your face—but Changbin? He was laser-focused.

He didn’t say anything, but the shift was instant. His jaw tightened. His form correcting got a little more hands-on. His “good job”s came with firm pats to your hip or shoulder. And when you tried to laugh it off, he didn’t.

It all came to a head in the locker room.

You were sipping your shake, scrolling on your phone, still riding the high of the workout when the door opened and slammed shut behind you.

You turned around, startled, only to be pinned gently but firmly against the lockers by a very serious, very flushed, very not smiling Changbin.

“Bin—what the hell?”

His hands were on either side of your head, eyes locked on yours, chest heaving slightly—not from exertion, but something heavier. Hotter.

“You didn’t see him,” he said, low and sharp. “The way he was looking at you.”

You blinked. “Who—?”

“The guy by the bench rack. He was practically eye-fucking you right in front of me.”

You froze, your stomach flipping. “Okay… and?”

“And I didn’t like it,” he growled.

He moved closer, just enough that you could feel the heat of his skin, the sharp scent of citrus and sweat and something distinctly him. His voice dropped to a near whisper.

“I’ve been trying so hard to be chill. To be your gym bro. Your friend.” He laughed, almost bitter. “But then someone else looks at you, and suddenly I’m one second away from throwing hands just because they don’t get to touch you.”

You stared at him, breath caught somewhere in your throat. “...Who does?”

He swallowed, gaze flicking from your lips to your eyes.

“I do,” he said simply. “Or I want to. If you let me.”

It was too much. Too sudden. Too perfect.

So you did the only thing that made sense—you pulled him in by the collar of his tank top and kissed him like he was oxygen after a drowning.

He kissed you back like he’d been waiting all damn year.

When you finally broke apart, gasping, foreheads pressed together, he chuckled—soft and breathless.

“Guess I’m not just your gym bro anymore, huh?”

You smiled, fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Guess not.”

He leaned in again, this time slower, more sure of himself.

And as his lips met yours, you thought—maybe working out wasn’t so bad after all.

You hadn’t even fully caught your breath when Changbin pulled away from the kiss, his gaze dark and unreadable, lips swollen from you.

He didn't say anything. Just looked at you for a long, heated second—then bent slightly, strong arms sliding under your thighs before you could so much as squeak.

“Binnie—what are you doing?!”

“Carrying what’s mine,” he muttered, voice low and wrecked, like the words cost him control. “You said yes. No way I’m letting you out of my sight now.”

You looped your arms around his neck instinctively, barely able to process the ease with which he lifted you like you weighed nothing. His biceps flexed under your hands, skin hot and slick, and you swore your brain just short-circuited from how much man he was.

The locker room door clicked shut behind you. But he didn’t stop. You didn’t even ask where he was going. You already knew.

The sauna.

That quiet little room tucked away at the back of the gym, warm even when empty, usually ignored at this hour.

Perfect.

The second the door closed behind you both, he let you down—slow, careful, like he was scared you’d vanish if he moved too fast. The heat wrapped around you instantly, thick and humid and heady. But it had nothing on the way Changbin looked at you now.

Not teasing. Not playful.

Devoted.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he said softly, tracing your jaw with the back of his fingers. “Do you know how hard it was? Watching you stretch in those damn leggings, laughing at my protein shakes, calling me ‘bro’ when all I wanted to do was pin you down and prove I’m not just your friend?”

Your breath hitched. “Why didn’t you?”

He smiled, slow and hungry. “Because you deserved better than a heat-of-the-moment hookup in a locker room.”

You swallowed. “And now?”

He leaned in, lips brushing yours. “Now you know how I feel. Now it’s your choice.”

The air crackled between you. Your fingers curled in the hem of his shirt. “I want you, Bin. I want this. I want you.”

The second the words were out, he kissed you again—but this time it wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate.

It was intentional.

He tasted like salted skin and mango pre-workout. His mouth moved over yours with a gentle hunger, hands cupping your jaw like you were breakable and holy all at once.

And when he laid you down on the wooden bench, one hand under your neck, the other sliding along your waist—he made sure you felt everything.

The slow drag of his body against yours. The soft, reverent kisses down your collarbone. The way he murmured your name like a prayer against your skin. He touched you like he knew every inch already, like he’d spent months memorizing how you moved, how you sighed, how you fell apart.

And the whole time, he kept whispering:

“Tell me if it’s too much.”

“You’re doing so good.”

“I’ve got you. I always got you.”

And it was slow—so achingly slow—but somehow even more intense than anything fast and frantic could’ve been.

Because he wasn’t just claiming you.

He was cherishing you.

When you finally came undone under his touch, trembling and gasping, he held you through it, forehead pressed to yours, breathing just as ragged.

Afterward, as you lay curled against his chest, sauna heat mixing with the afterglow, he ran his fingers lazily down your spine and whispered, “Guess this makes me your post-workout recovery, huh?”

You snorted against his shoulder. “You’re so annoying.”

But you didn’t stop smiling.

Not even when he kissed the top of your head and whispered, “And you’re mine now. Finally.”

[taurasiluvr]

WE GOT A DOPE LOVE, WE GOT A BOND THAT THEY SPOKE OF / TWO GUNS WE DON'T GIVE THEM HATERS NO LOVE ── BUECKERS⁵

how you can help palestine part one part two

★ i got a some requests for a last part for my paige fic, so here it is!! ★ "girlyy u shld add another part to ur paige fic where reader finally breaks up w her bf and ends up giving back to paige?? (p receives) queen ur literally feeding us rn🙇🏽‍♀️" /// "and NOW i think you should do a final third part of the paige x reader where reader leaves that bum ass boyfriend and finally gets with paige 😜😜"

 ⠀ ── ⠀warnings ;; nsfw under the cut, mdni. homophobia (from ex), arguing, singular physical altercation (if you can even call it that), oral + fingering (r giving), lovey-dovey sex, break-ups.

 ⠀ ── ⠀word count ;; 3.8k

 ⠀ ── ⠀rylin's notes ;; requests are open for those who want to send them in :p

you and your boyfriend walk hand-in-hand into the crowded gymnasium, paige's jersey clad on your body. as you made your way to the bleachers, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervousness. again, you were wearing paige's jersey, a silent testament to the bond you shared, and you knew it would be noticed by everyone, including your boyfriend.

he glanced at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. "you're really supporting her, huh?"

"mhm," you replied, squeezing his hand. "she's important to me, you know that."

he nodded, his expression softening. "yeah sometimes i wish i played basketball so you could support me like you do her," he joked as you gave him a nervous laugh.

the worst part of that was – you kind wish he did, too.

you found a spot in the bleachers, settling in as the players warmed up on the court. the sound of basketballs bouncing and sneakers squeaking against the floor filled the gym. you scanned the court, your eyes quickly finding paige; she looked focused and determined, her movements fluid and confident. you felt your lips curve up into a subconscious smile as you watched her, and it filled you with adoration knowing how much she loved this sport, it made you fall in love with her even more.

as the game began, you cheered along with the rest of the crowd, your excitement growing with each play. paige was on fire (per usual), her skill on full display. you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride every time she made a basket or a crucial play. your boyfriend cheered too, his competitive nature coming out as he got into the game.

at halftime, the score was close, and the tension in the gym was palpable. you turned to your boyfriend, who was animatedly discussing the game with the dad next to him. he seemed to be enjoying himself, and you felt a small sense of relief. maybe things were starting to settle down.

as the second half began, the intensity ramped up. UConn was behind by a few points, and the pressure was on. you watched her closely, her determination evident in every move she made. with just a few minutes left on the clock, she made a play, stealing the ball and driving it down the court for a layup that brought the crowd to its feet.

you jumped up, cheering loudly, your heart pounding with excitement. your boyfriend joined in, his enthusiasm matching yours. as the final buzzer sounded, UConn emerged victorious, the gym erupting in cheers and applause.

you made your way down to the court, weaving through the throngs of celebrating fans. paige spotted you and jogged over, a huge smile on her face. she looked radiant, her eyes shining with triumph.

"my god, that was insane!" you exclaimed, wrapping her in a hug.

"i know!" paige replied, her breath still coming in short gasps from the exertion. she glanced at your boyfriend and gave him a nod.

he smiled, watching the interaction between you two. "you played a hell of a game, never thought women's basketball could be that entertaining."

you cleared your throat, nudging him slightly as you gave paige a sympathetic smile. "babe," you gave him a sigh, earning a shrug from him.

paige laughed, ignoring the comment. "well uh, maybe that's your sign to watch more."

"yeah, maybe."

there was a moment of awkward silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. you felt caught between the two people who meant so much to you, each with their own place in your heart (at least, that was what you were trying to convince yourself).

paige's teammates called her over for a group photo, and she glanced behind her. "aaliyah's boyfriend is hosting an after-party, if you're down," she didn't really acknowledge your boyfriend, her gaze fixed on you.

your lips curved up into a genuine smile as you nodded, and it felt like it was just the two of you for a moment. "yeah, we're down."

"okay, perfect." paige grinned before she turned around toward the team. you watched her go, your heart swelling with a mixture of emotions.

your boyfriend squeezed your hand, pulling you out of your thoughts. "babe, we have my function tomorrow morning, remember?"

"yeah, we won't stay out too late." your gaze stayed on the blonde before you glanced at your boyfriend, forcing a smile.

he nodded, though his expression remained wary. "okay, just don't want you to be too tired."

the drive to aaliyah's boyfriend's house was filled with a tense silence, your boyfriend focused on the road while you stared out the window, lost in thought. when you arrived, the house was already crowded, music and laughter spilling out into the neighborhood.

you spotted paige as soon as you walked in, her presence a comforting anchor amidst the chaos. she waved you over, her smile bright and inviting. "hey! so glad you guys could make it,"

"of course," you replied, returning her smile. "wouldn't miss it."

your boyfriend trailed behind you, glancing around the crowded room. "nice place," he commented, his tone neutral.

paige nodded, her attention shifting to him briefly before returning to you. "yeah, it's pretty great. come on, let's get you some drinks."

as your boyfriend found some of his friends, paige led you to the kitchen where a variety of beverages were spread out on the counter. as you poured yourself a drink, paige leaned in closer, her voice low. "you okay? you seem a little tense."

you gave her a small smile, grateful for her concern. "yeah, just a lot on my mind."

paige's eyes softened, and she gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "i'm here if you wanna talk."

"thanks, p," you replied, feeling a warmth spread through you at her touch.

the evening wore on, and you found yourself relaxing more and more as you mingled with friends and enjoyed the party. however, there was an underlying tension that you couldn't quite shake, a constant reminder of the complicated situation you were in.

toward the end of the night, you found yourself alone on the back porch, taking a moment to breathe in the cool night air. paige soon joined you, her presence a calming balm to your nerves.

"needed a break?" she asked, leaning against the railing beside you.

"yeah, just a little overwhelmed," you admitted, staring up at the stars.

paige nodded, her gaze thoughtful. "i get it. tonight's been a lot."

you turned to her, the unspoken tension between you palpable. "paige, you know i... i think that, um..."

paige's attention was fully fixed on you now, her eyes never leaving your face. "you think what?"

before you could finish, the door to the porch opened, and your boyfriend stumbled out, his expression exhausted but he immediately straightened up as he saw how close you and paige were. "hey, there you are. everything okay, what's goin' on?"

you sighed, your frustration bubbling over as you glanced back at him. "yeah," you muttered, annoyance taking over. with a scoff, you shook your head and began walking back into the house.

your boyfriend seemed confused and maybe even a little angry as he glanced toward you and paige. "the fuck is up with your attitude all of a sudden?"

"god, nothing," you retorted, rolling your eyes as you tried to push past him. "get outta my way."

"no! you think i'm fucking stupid?" his voice grew louder, anger seeping into his tone. he blocked your path, his presence imposing.

"just let me through," you insisted, trying to sidestep him.

"you've been acting weird all night, and now i find you out here with her?" he jabbed a finger towards paige, who had been watching the exchange with a concerned expression.

"jesus, you're overreacting!" you snapped, the tension in the air thickening. "it's not what you think-"

"oh, really? cus it sure as hell doesn't look like it," he spat back, his voice rising. he grabbed your arm and pushed you back outside, his grip tight as you let out a yelp.

the force of his grip was jarring, and the sharp yank backward sent you stumbling. your breath caught in your throat as you struggled to regain your balance, the pain from his grip making your arm throb. paige's eyes widened in alarm, and she took a step forward, her voice urgent.

"hey, asshole, let go of her!" paige shouted, her tone steely as she tried to pull you out of your boyfriend's grasp.

his grip tightened around your arm, his eyes locked onto paige's as his face contorted with anger. "don't fucking touch her," he hissed through gritted teeth. "you think you can just waltz in and steal her from me? you're a fuckin' girl and you're over here, corrupting her."

"corrupting her?" paige scoffed, her voice firm, her hands raised defensively. "what is this, the fuckin' 60s? are you kidding me?"

your boyfriend's grip on your arm tightened once more, and he turned to face paige, his eyes flashing with rage. "stay outta of this, you little bitch."

the insult hit you like a physical blow, and you flinched, your heart pounding in your chest. "don't call her that!" you shouted, your voice breaking with emotion. "let go of me!"

"or what?" he sneered, his grip still unyielding. "think you can just walk away from me?"

you could feel your anger and frustration reaching a boiling point. "god, just shut up! you're acting like a complete asshole."

"yeah, and who's the one sneaking around with this bitch?" he shot back, his words dripping with venom.

"i told you to not call her that!" you shouted, your voice cracking with emotion.

"or what?" he stepped closer to you, his face twisted in rage. "you gonna leave me for her? is that it?"

before you could respond, paige stepped between you, her gaze locked onto your boyfriend's. "you need to fuck off!"

"oh, so you're her knight in shining armor now?" he sneered as he finally let your arm go with a push, causing you to stumble backward. "fuckin' pathetic. you think you can take her from me? you're just a sad, desperate bitch who can't stand that she'll never want you like she wants me."

paige's jaw clenched, but she didn't move. "i don't need to take her from you. you're doing a fine job of that yourself."

"fuck you," he growled, pushing paige back roughly.

"don't fucking touch her!" you screamed, before getting his face.

the aggression in his actions was the final straw for you. "we are done," you declared, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt.

he turned back to you, his eyes wide with shock. "what?"

"you heard me," you said, stepping away from him. "i'm done with this. i'm done with you, no more breaks no more... no more of this, i'm done."

your boyfriend stepped back, his chest heaving with rage. "you think this is over? you think you can just walk away like this?" he shouted, his voice echoing in the quiet night. "for a girl?!"

paige stepped forward, her expression nothing short of pissed. "yeah, it is. you needa leave her alone, seriously, this shit is getting bad."

he glared at paige, his jaw clenched. "you think you're so tough, don’t you? just wait. you'll see what happens when i get back inside."

"oh yeah? i'm not fucking scared of you, i don't care who you think you are," paige snapped, she'd had enough of this guy the moment she met him – this was her last straw. "but what you're not gonna do, is step into my fucking place and threaten me or my girl."

"your girl? you gotta me fuckin' with me," he let out a bitter laugh as he took a menacing step toward paige, his eyes blazing with fury.

paige didn't flinch, her stance firm and unyielding. "yeah, my girl," she said, her voice laced with a dangerous edge. "and if you think i'm just gonna stand by and let you grab her like that, you're fucking crazy."

he sneered, his face contorting with contempt. "you really think she wants you? you're just a pathetic rebound, a distraction."

paige's eyes narrowed, her fists clenching at her sides. "this isn't about what you think. this is about you being an abusive asshole who can't handle the fact that she deserves better."

the words hit like a slap, and he recoiled, his face twisted with rage and denial. "you're fucking delusional," he spat. "she'll come crawling back to me. you'll see."

"not if i have anything to say about it," paige retorted, stepping forward to close the distance between them. "now get the fuck out."

the air thick with unspoken threats and barely contained anger. you stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, feeling torn and overwhelmed. this confrontation had been brewing for a long time, and now it was finally coming to a head.

he glanced at you, his eyes flashing with a mix of betrayal and desperation. "is this what you want? to be with her?" he demanded, his voice breaking with emotion.

you took a deep breath, your hands trembling. "i wanna be happy. i want to feel safe. and after tonight, i-i don't feel that with you."

for a moment, the silence was deafening, the only sound the distant hum of the party still going on inside. your boyfriend stared at you, his expression a mix of anger and disbelief, before finally turning on his heel and storming back into the house. the door slammed shut behind him with a resounding bang, the noise echoing in the quiet night.

you let out a shuddering breath, your knees feeling weak. paige wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a tight hug. "it's okay," she murmured, her voice soothing. "he's gone."

you clung to paige, the reality of what had just happened crashing down on you. the fear, the anger, the confusion – it all seemed so overwhelming.

"he'd... he's never grabbed me like that before," you murmured, your voice trembling as you clung to her. "never put a hand on me, ever."

paige held you tighter, her hand gently rubbing your back. "i'm so sorry you had to go through that," she whispered. "now you know his true colors,"

you buried your face in her shoulder, the tears finally breaking free. "don't know what to do," you admitted, your voice choked with emotion. "i don't know if i can handle this."

paige pulled back slightly, cupping your face in her hands and looking into your eyes. "you're stronger than you think," she said softly. "and you're not alone. i'm here for you, always."

you nodded, taking a deep, shaky breath. "thank you, p," you whispered.

she pulled you into a tight hug, her warmth and strength surrounding you. "you don't have to thank me," she murmured. "i care about you. and i won't let anyone hurt you, especially a 5"8 frat guy,"

you let out a tearful laugh, shaking your head as your grip tightened around her.

she gave you a small, reassuring smile. "come on, let's get you home and away from all this shit,"

you nodded again, allowing her to guide you back into the house. the noise of the party seemed louder now, a stark contrast to the quiet tension of the porch. as you walked through the crowd, you felt the weight of curious eyes on you, but paige's steady presence beside you gave you the strength to keep moving.

 ⠀ ── ⠀

"i'm sorry," you buried your face in paige's neck, the warmth of her bed comforting. the events of the night had left you emotionally drained, but here, wrapped in paige's embrace, you felt a sense of safety.

paige's hand gently stroked your back, her touch soothing. "you don't have to apologize," she said softly. "none of this is your fault, i promise."

you sighed, the tears still threatening to spill. "i just feel so stupid. i should have seen the signs, should have ended it sooner. i should have listened to everyone when they said he was toxic,"

paige pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting yours. "hey, don't blame yourself," she said firmly. "it's not easy to see things clearly when you're in the middle of it. what's important is that you're safe now."

you nodded, grateful for her understanding. "thank you for being there," you whispered. "don't know what would have done without you tonight."

"you don't have to think about what could've happened," paige's expression softened, and she pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "i'll always be here for you," she promised.

you felt a surge of warmth at her words, the sincerity in her voice reassuring. you looked up at the blonde, the warmth in her eyes making you feel fuzzy inside. "i have to find a way to repay you for everything."

"nah, you don't have to, princess." her lips curved into a smile. "you know i woulda killed him right then and there if you weren't there, baby."

the petname made your face flush as you smiled up at paige, your heart beginning to race. "not just for tonight... i meant all the times you fucked me good,"

paige let out a breathless at the vulgarity in your words, her own face flushing as she licked her lips as they curved into a smirk. "really, princess? you're gonna make me blush," she teased, her voice dropping to a playful whisper.

"mhm," you batted your eyelashes up at her, making paige let out a laugh. your hands travelled to her naked stomach, your hand flush against it. "let me make it up to you, p,"

paige's breath hitched as your hands moved against her stomach, your touch sending shivers through her body. her eyes darkened with desire as she looked down at you, her smirk widening. "oh, baby," she murmured, her voice thick with anticipation. "what do you have in mind?"

you grinned, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her collarbone, your lips trailing a path of fire down her skin. "think you deserve a little pampering," you whispered against her skin, your hands sliding lower, teasing the edge of her waistband.

paige let out a low moan, her hands tangling in your hair as she arched into your touch. "fuck, you drive me crazy," she breathed, her voice trembling with need.

you continued your slow exploration, your lips and hands working in tandem to elicit more sounds of pleasure from her. you could feel the heat building between you, the air thick with anticipation. "relax and let me take care of you," you murmured, your voice soothing.

paige's eyes fluttered shut, her breath coming in shallow gasps as you continued your ministrations. your heart raced at her sounds, a surge of desire flooding through you. your moved with purpose, paige's hands roamed over your back, her nails digging into your skin as she struggled to hold on.

you moved downward, finding your place in between her legs. her hand was weaving through your hair, her eyes fixed on your face. you moved her underwear to the side as you licked a stripe against slick pussy, earning a low groan from the blonde.

"fuck, keep lookin' at me like that," paige let out a breathless laugh as she gripped your head.

you looked up at paige, maintaining eye contact as your tongue moved against her. her breath hitched, and her grip on your hair tightened. "god, you're so good at this," she moaned, her voice breaking with pleasure.

encouraged by her reaction, you continued your movements, your tongue and fingers working perfectly to bring her to the edge. the taste of her arousal and the sight of her coming undone because of you sent waves of desire coursing through your body.

paige's moans grew louder, her body trembling as she struggled to maintain control. "don't stop, baby," she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. "fuck yeah, princess, oh fuck,"

you had no intention of stopping, your focus solely on her and the pleasure you were giving her. you increased your pace, your efforts rewarded by the way her hips bucked against you and the cries of pleasure that escaped her lips.

she was close, you could feel it in the way her body tensed and the desperate sounds she made. you began flickering your tongue against her clit, quickly pushing her over the edge. paige's entire body shuddered, her back arching off the bed as she came with a loud, guttural groan.

you kept going, drawing out her orgasm for as long as possible until she finally collapsed back onto the bed, her body limp and trembling. you moved back up to her, pressing soft kisses along her stomach and chest as she caught her breath.

"fuck, that was incredible," paige managed to say, her voice hoarse. she pulled you up to her, capturing your lips in a deep, sloppy kiss. "you're incredible."

you smiled against her lips, your heart swelling with pride and affection. "love making you feel good," you whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

paige's eyes softened, and she cupped your face in her hands. "and i love you," she said, her voice filled with emotion. "more than anything."

"i love you too, p."

paige's eyes glistened with a mix of love and contentment, and she pulled you into another tender embrace. you nestled into her warmth, feeling a sense of peace wash over you that you hadn't felt in a long time.

"let's just stay like this for a while," you murmured, your voice muffled against her skin.

"absolutely," Paige whispered back, her hand gently stroking your hair. "just you and me, no one else."

the two of you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, the world outside fading into insignificance. in that moment, it felt like nothing could touch you, like you were both cocooned in a bubble of safety and love.

after a while, Paige shifted slightly, her hand trailing down your arm. "how about we get some sleep?" she suggested softly. "its been a long night."

you nodded, feeling the exhaustion of the evening catching up with you. "yeah, that sounds good."

paige helped you settle into the bed, her movements gentle and caring. she tucked the blanket around you, then slid in beside you, pulling you close once more. you could feel her heartbeat against your back, a steady, comforting rhythm that lulled you into a sense of security.

"goodnight, princess," she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

"goodnight, p," you replied, your eyes already drifting shut.

as you lay there, on the cusp of sleep, you felt a profound sense of gratefulness. despite the turmoil, you knew you had someone by your side who truly cared for you, someone who would stand by you no matter what.

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

[laurfilijames]

The Chase

Pairing: Will "Ironhead" Miller x female reader

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. CNC (consensual non-consent). Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: Inspired by seeing the viral "foot pursuit challenge" going around, you and Will decide to put a little twist on it and make it your own naughty game.

A/N: 😅 I can't even defend why I wrote this I just want Will to chase me down in tac gear and wreck me so badly 😩

---

It was innocent enough. Until it wasn’t.

The viral “foot pursuit challenge” piqued your interest as soon as you saw it going around, and when you asked Will to participate, he was more than game.

Benny and his wife were there too, having driven out to a back road with plenty of space, both brothers talking complete shit at how easy it would be for them to chase you girls down, their years of intense military training bringing out their confidence.

Hearing Will’s thundering footsteps approach quickly behind you sparked something you didn’t know thrilled you, and even though you didn’t dare look back at him, you knew he was on you in seconds without barely breaking a sweat.

He had grabbed you around your waist and hoisted you off the ground, spinning you into his arms where you kicked and laughed beyond your control, but what he said when he caught you made it turn into something you wanted to explore further and made your giggles die out quickly.

“You’re lucky we’re not alone right now or you’d be getting it.”

His breath was hot on your skin, tickling your ear so that goosebumps exploded all over your body from head to toe, your throat feeling dry and tight.

Will’s large hand had a grip on your breast while his other smacked you on the ass, a low grunt sounding from his heaving chest as he looked at you with a darkness in his eyes.

He pulled his bottom lip in his teeth and glared at you, and you swore your heart stopped when you felt his erection rub on you as he hovered against you, barely releasing you from his hold.

And that’s how you found yourself here.

It was usually quiet this time of day, the hiking trails that wove through a wooded area the perfect spot for it, both of you relieved and excited when you had pulled in the parking area and saw no other vehicles there.

“You sure you wanna do this?” he confirmed again, but the way he slapped the velcro strap on his tac vest with his long hand to secure it in place was all the convincing you needed had you not already been one hundred percent on board with your game.

“I’m sure,” you nodded, feeling your arousal build and your pussy already aching.

He cocked his head to the side slightly and raised his eyebrows as if giving you one last opportunity to reconsider, and when he slammed the tailgate of his truck shut, you jumped.

“Okay then,” he sang, glancing at his watch. “I’m giving you a thirty second head start once we get in there.”

You bit your cheek to stop yourself from grinning, and when he looked at you and shook his head with a smirk on his face you squirmed, already feeling your heart pounding in your chest from the excitement of it.

“Alright, let’s do it,” he chuckled, pressing off his feet in the dirt trail and into a slow jog.

Passing no one on the trail so far after about ten minutes of a light warm-up, Will eased to a stop and looked around, happy that you were seemingly alone.

His veins were already bulging in his neck and his forearms, his blood pumping through him without even exerting himself yet, and your mouth watered knowing how good the taste of his sweat was and how gorgeous his face looked when it got all blushed whenever he ran.

“Ready, sweetheart?”

A nervous laugh blew out of your lips, your skin feeling tingly from a rush you knew hadn’t even begun yet, and you nodded enthusiastically.

“Run fast,” he warned, his tone even, and the expression on his face told you you didn’t have a chance in hell.

Unable to say anything, you swallowed hard and took off, sprinting as fast as you could in order to try to give yourself more of an advantage and make the most of the fleeting thirty seconds.

You were a good runner, but after a bit you knew you would be slowing down, and regardless, Will would be catching up to you in no time.

Blood was pounding in your ears, the ringing drowning out the sound of your own panting breaths as you pushed yourself as hard as you could. You prayed a tree root or even just your own feet wouldn’t trip you up, knowing by now that your head start was up, and suddenly you felt like you were in a horror movie.

Even though you knew it was your husband on the other end of this chase, you couldn’t get the sickening pit in your stomach to go away, realizing with grave terror the reality that you likely wouldn’t be able to outrun someone in a worse scenario.

Your lungs burned and your limbs felt heavy, your false fear feeling all too real as you kept going as fast as you could move, doing your best to focus on the path in front of you and not on the man who pursued you from behind.

You could sense him gaining on you, your excitement mixing with nerves that had your fight or flight response in overdrive, the anticipation of him catching you almost too much to handle.

Well into the trail now, you decided to take a chance and deek off the path, still managing to keep your pace despite the branches and small brush growing thicker there, surprising yourself with your agility.

The harsh snap of a stick made a gasp come out of your mouth as you worked to keep your breathing at an even tempo, and the rustling of leaves and thumping of heavy feet on the forest floor increased faster than you could stand to hear.

It was exhilarating and completely frightening all at once, waiting to feel his hands grab at you as the crack of branches grew louder, wondering when the moment would come that his body would finally take yours down.

And then he did.

Feeling his fingertips graze at your back, you gave one last push with everything you had left in an effort to evade him, only to feel his arm snake around your waist, his weight barreling into you so forcefully it pushed you off your feet.

The momentum made both of you crash to the ground, his tackle knocking the wind out of your lungs despite his care to not actually hurt you, the thud of your body hitting the dirt echoing in your ears.

You squirmed beneath him, a pitiful attempt to wiggle your way out of his hold, only to feel the heavy mass of him keep you firmly stuck where you were, and you smiled hearing him grunt with his efforts.

He felt like he was on fire, his heat pouring through both your clothes and onto your back, his breaths heaving and laboured on your sweat-coated skin.

Dirt smeared across your cheek as you turned your face to the side to try to catch a glimpse of him, seeing a look of satisfaction and something totally primal twisting his gorgeous features.

His cheeks were red, his skin gleaming with drops of sweat that traveled downward until they dripped off the tip of his nose, his blond hair saturated and dark.

The muscles in his face flinched as he clenched his teeth tightly together, working to get his hands in the waist of your pants where he ripped them down in one go along with your panties, his rough treatment of you making you close your eyes as you waited for what was going to come next.

More feral, guttural noises came out of his mouth and you knew he saw how wet you were, making you lift your hips as much as possible in order to put yourself more on display for him.

The sinful sound of his belt opening rang with that familiar clank that made your cunt ache even more, and your mouth watered when you heard the zipper peel down followed by the shift of material as he freed himself.

There was no mercy as he buried his thick cock in you in one go, this not the time to ease you into taking his size and rather an example of the control your Captain could have over you no matter how hard you might try.

You cried out, digging your fingers into the soft soil as he began pounding into you relentlessly, the power behind his thrusts already making you feel dumb from pleasure.

One hand was planted firmly in the center of your back to keep you down while the other grabbed at the flesh on your hip like a vice, his fingers biting into your skin like teeth.

“Fuck,” he hissed, seemingly in need of more of you as he tore your pants further down your legs before using his thigh to nudge the back of your knee, forcing your right leg up so he could drive deeper in your cunt.

A drawn out moan spilled from your mouth at the change, the bitter taste of earth tainting your tongue as your face smeared back and forth on the ground from a rhythm that had you seeing stars.

Will laid himself fully on top of you, covering your form completely as he continued to plow into you, your body jolting when his hand found space between you and the ground and started rubbing your clit.

Being smothered by him made you dizzy, feeling constrained and claimed all at once, protected and retained, your heart swelling knowing no matter the situation, Will always carried a sense of possessiveness toward you.

You moved as much as you could, attempting to grind against his fingers to chase down your quickly building climax, but everything he was doing had you right there anyway.

The sensation of his thick cock dragging in and out of your drenched cunt was almost too much to bear, every detail of his shaft that was now completely soaked by you memorized by your tight hole, the sounds of profane squelching and his heavy breathing finally sending you over the edge.

His hand quickly came out from under you and grabbed your face, covering your mouth to muffle your screams as you tensed beneath him, his wet fingers careless to their grip and placement as they clawed at your lips and fumbled against your teeth.

The taste of yourself made your mouth water more, feeling spit seep out around his fingers while he pounded furiously deep inside your constricting walls, his teeth raking over the side of your neck where your pulse thrummed viciously as he came undone in the wake of your orgasm.

A sharp hiss passed through his gritted teeth as the first of his spurts of hot cum filled you, his hips stuttering against your ass as his rhythm fell apart into something even more erratic, his breath blowing cruelly on your sweaty skin.

He remained on top of you for a minute, his lips pressing all over your neck and cheek, his hand that had been covering your mouth gently trailing down the side of your waist.

A stupid, exhausted smile dressed your lips as you came down, the sounds of the forest and chirping of birds able to be heard again now that your mind and body were beginning to quiet the electricity that had deafened your senses.

Will eventually pulled out of you and sat back on his heels, a deranged laugh puffing out of him as he admired the view in front of him.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he huffed, watching you lay there dirty, sweaty and disheveled, his cum leaking out of your stretched hole. “That's a game we might have to play more often.”

You giggled as you rolled over onto your back, smiling at Will who's own spread wide on his face and made all the lines around his eyes and mouth scrunch up.

He took another second to scan over you, the sight of you still half-naked and crudely exposed keeping him hard and wanting more, the temptation to ram himself back in your cunt and fuck you again, but harder, almost unbearable.

Recognizing the look in his eyes, you smirked as you teasingly shifted your hips to tug your panties back up, watching his chest inflate slowly in a way to try to calm himself as he made note of how his load would barely be contained by the tiny bit of material.

You sat up, leaning forward to press your lips against his slowly and teasingly, feeling his long, drawn out moan pass into your mouth as he relaxed into your kiss.

You couldn’t stifle your giggle when you took hold of his cock, still sticky and hot from you, and stroked it, feeling him buck closer to your touch and growl before you carefully tucked him back in his boxers.

“We’re gonna get caught if we keep this up,” you smiled, biting your lip when you parted from his.

“We’re lucky we didn't already,” he chuckled, his eyebrows high on his forehead as he nodded his head once.

Will stood and brought his pants back over his ass before fastening them and his belt, and extended his hand down to help you off the ground after you had pulled your tight spandex leggings back into place.

He was on you the moment you turned from him and started walking, pressing himself against your back while his mouth brushed the shell of your ear, his tone raspy and loaded with want when he spoke.

“Let's get home, sweetheart, we’re gonna need a shower.”

---

Taglist:

@dailydragon08 @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls @littlenosoul

@maggotzombie @rmwarn90 @paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil

@kmc1989 @justreblogginfics @spaghettificationandpretzels @whatever-lmaoo @steviebbboi

@charethcutestory02 @daryldixonpls @puffins-muffins

[after-witch]

To the Top [Yandere Chuuya x Reader]

Title: To the Top [Yandere Chuuya x Reader]

Synopsis: Over the past few months of your pregnancy, you’ve never been sweeter to Chuuya. Little does he know that for every smile you’ve given him, you’ve stashed away something for your escape. 

Word count: 3100ish

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, reader is pregnant, abusive behavior  (chains, restrictions, food control, etc)

Life in this shut-up penthouse was never exactly invigorating--but over the past few months it has become unbearable. And that unbearable, stifling heaviness weighing you down every single day has taken its toll in more ways than one. 

It’s made you feel like you’re going to lose it at any moment. It’s made you feel like you’d rather be anywhere than here.

You want to get out.

Chuuya had rules for you, of course, when he first started keeping you here. They came slow--a leash that tightened before you realized it--and sure. 

But now, with your belly swollen and growing bigger by the day, he’s completely taken control. 

You’re not allowed to go outside, even with Chuuya, even surrounded by bodyguards ready to take a bullet or unload them into any would-be assassins. Those brief bouts of fresh air were one of the few bright spots in your life, now blotted out from Chuuya’s paranoia of losing you. 

You’re not allowed to use your exercise bike or take a swim in the heated indoor pool tucked in the basement. It doesn’t matter how much you argue that you should be exercising for the sake of your health, because Chuuya says he does let you exercise. According to him, anyway.

He only lets you do the mildest--and you do mean mildest--of aerobic exercises in the pool. Only under supervision, and the moment you look like you want to start leaning into the water and getting in a nice backstroke, Chuuya orders you out and you’d best comply if you ever want to see the pool again for the next 2 years.

You’re not allowed to eat whatever you want, even when your cravings feel like they’re going to eat you from the inside out. He doesn’t starve you, no, no, no. But you can’t have a big juicy cheeseburger topped with bacon and a side of onion rings, a heavenly concoction that makes you drool just to think of it. 

If you must have a burger, and it’s a big if--Chuuya allows you to eat a made-from-scratch ground turkey burger with low fat cheese and a side of mashed sweet potato (no butter, no extra salt!) all courtesy of the well-trained personal chef Chuuya hired to live in the building. 

They’re the reason you are eating three square meals and two snacks a day, and the reason each and every meal is perfectly designed to eat every nutrition goal. Everything you eat is always nutritious and sure, the food isn’t disgusting… but it’s not fucking fair, is it, that you can’t just eat what you want when you want. 

Chuuya insists you eat only the best of foods. He makes sure every meal comes with a little cup of medicine--prenatal vitamins and anything else the doctor thinks will help keep you safe during your pregnancy. 

He doesn’t let you run around or fret or clean or do much of anything at all. He doesn’t want you to exert yourself, he says. You can’t eat what you want or do what you want or go where you want. 

It’s all too much.

You fought at first. You argued. You pleaded. But it didn’t do anything but make Chuuya tighten his hold on you.

And that’s why you accept his rules now with the utmost of patience and sweetness that you can muster. Oh, you haven’t given in. You aren’t meekly submitting to Chuuya and agreeing that he surely knows what’s best for you.

You’re just biding your time for the day when you can get the hell out of here.

Besides, you needed a little bit of freedom if you were going to escape. And a little bit of freedom was all you were going to get.

Early on in the pregnancy, Chuuya kept you locked in the bedroom when he was away because you fought him too much. A chain around your ankle kept you from even trying to get out the bedroom door.

Yes, you were given food by a stoic bodyguard throughout the day and it wasn’t like you were left to fend for yourself, but still. It would be impossible to leave if you were stuck in the bedroom all day.

Now, though, Chuuya lets you walk around the penthouse when he’s gone. He allows the chef to premake some of your meals so that you can microwave them if he’s not here to feed you; you can watch a movie in the living room or take a nap on your shared bed or whatever you’d like, as long as it’s quiet and calming. 

Because you’re good, and you’ve behaved, and you let him do what’s best for you. 

It’s not a lot of freedom. But it’s enough to give you the chance to start stashing away supplies for your escape; it’s enough to give you the perfect moment to pretend to fall asleep on the sofa before Chuuya leaves one day, so you can look just in time to see the passcode he enters on the electronic lock attached to the front door.

It’s enough to put you on the path towards freedom. 

--

Chuuya paces back and forth so rapidly that you’re starting to feel a bit dizzy. There’s a framed picture of flowers--your favorite--on the wall behind him, and you focus on that to keep yourself steady. Chuuya… flowers… Chuuya… flowers. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t go tonight. I could send someone else for this.”

“Chuuya.” 

“Or I can send one of my guards to stay in the apartment while I’m gone. Just to be safe? Shit, I don’t know.” 

“Chuuya.”

“Fuck it, I’ll call it in, I’m not going--”

“Chuuya.”

He stops, and you take the opportunity to step forward and grasp both of his hands in yours. You pull them against your chest and watch as his expression goes from agitated and fretful to sweet, almost puppy-love. Every time you touch him without being told, it’s like you can see a sweet light spark in his eyes. Too bad you lost your spark a while ago. 

“Go,” you say, soft and sweet and so fake you wonder that he can’t see through it. “I’ll be fine. The building’s being guarded, and the door will be locked.” The tension begins to melt from his shoulders, and you continue. “Just come home safe, all right?”

His frown holds for only a moment more, then it splits into a grin.

“Yeah. Yeah… You’re right.” He lifts his hands, taking yours with them, so that he can press a short kiss to your knuckles. “I’ll be back in the early morning--don’t wait up for me, you two need your sleep. Got it?”

We won’t be here when you get back, you think. “I know. We’ll go to bed early,” you say. 

And then you lean forward and kiss him softly on the lips, your stomach brushing against him as you do. 

He expects a kiss whenever he leaves and you’re almost happy to give it, tonight, because you know it will be the last one he ever gets from you. 

--

You don’t act right away. You’re not stupid. It’s about 2 hours after he leaves that the plan is ready to set into motion. In the meantime, you’ve read and reread the same page of your book a thousand times; sweat has begun to cling to your back as your eyes dart from the page to the clock. 

The sensation of your stomach in knots is equaled only by the frenzy of activity inside your belly--you swear they can sense what’s going on. Can they feel how your heart has begun to race? Can they tell that your muscles are tense? That your ears are strained, listening for the sound of his footsteps, in case he changed his mind?

You’re thankful that you’re not alone when you finally retrieve your bag from its hiding spot. You’ve got supplies. Some cash, food, a few water bottles. Underwear, clothes--yours and the babies--and some of the baby things Chuuya has already picked up. A blanket, a package of bottles, in case he doesn’t take to the breast.

It’s not a lot. But it will be enough to get you through to safety and freedom, and that’s all that really matters.

The bag shifts on your shoulders as you stand at the door, heart pounding, breath coming in short puffs. The guards outside the door are doing their rounds--back and forth, stopping in front of the front door of the penthouse and again at the door of the elevator just a few steps away, then going round the corner to complete a circle. 

It takes them 15 seconds to walk down the hallway once they walk away from the elevator. And you have about 60 seconds to get from the front door into the elevator before they come back. Maybe 90 seconds, maybe 2 minutes, if they stop to chat. They don’t do that with any regularity, so it’s impossible to plan for it. So you don’t. 

Instead, you count, one hand on your belly, one hand poised above the numbers on the electronic lock. It makes a noise so you have to wait to just… the right… time…

Now.

Despite all of the careful planning that went into this, as soon as your fingers press the code in, all thinking seems to cease. You are running on pure instinct. The door opens and you don’t even look to make sure the guards aren’t there, instead you fly right to the elevator door and push down.

It could all go wrong here. If someone is in the elevator, if someone is coming up from the floors, if the elevator didn’t return to the top after Chuuya left.

But the door has mercy and opens right away, and you rush into it, almost tripping over the threshold. Your finger trembles onto the close door button and it shuts. You don’t hear shouts. You don’t hear panic.

They didn’t see you.

Timing, again, is everything. You press the fifth floor so that the elevator will stop there long enough for the guards at the bottom to--you hope, you hope, you hope, if you timed it right--be around the corner as well. But there’s no telling if your timing is correct here. Maybe they don’t leave the doors at all, on the bottom floor. Maybe there are more guards, maybe they take shifts. All these maybes ball up in your stomach and take the air out of you as the elevator reaches the ground floor and opens.

You rush out without looking, but no one is there. You’re at the private back entrance and you don’t waste time thinking about how lucky you are or what to do next; you simply push yourself out the door and begin to run down the street.

It doesn’t take long for your feet to hurt. The house slippers Chuuya gives you are not meant for concrete, not meant for uneven sidewalks where people occasionally drop glass bottles and cigarette butts. 

You don’t let the pain stop you. You never have before. 

As you run, solid thoughts finally begin to return to your mind, which feels less fuzzy and more aware of the danger that you might be in. You did it. You’re out. You’re gone. You’re free. 

But not just yet, right? You need to stay hidden. You need to be safe.  You need, above all, to get off the highly visible streets. 

A sign for a bus stop catches your eye. Yes--a bus. You could let it take you as far as it will, and then go from there. But the sign says the bus stops on the hour, and there’s still 30 minutes to go--you can’t stay out on the street that long.

Instead, you slip into an alley just a little bit away from the sign. It’s close enough that you could press yourself against a wall and still keep an eye out for when the bus arrives. Will it be comfortable? No. Will it be smelly? Probably. Will you be out of public view? Yes--so that’s what you do.

You slip into the alley and immediately every nerve on your body raises because there is someone here with you.

No. Scratch that.

Two someones.

There is a man standing that you can only see from behind. He is shrouded in the shadows of the alleyway’s end, which isn’t lit by anything but the hint of light from the street. 

And there is a man on the ground, pressed against the farthest end of the alley, begging for his life. You only catch some of the words that tumble out of his desperate lips: I didn’t betray you, I swear, I swear, I can tell you everything you need to know, it wasn’t me, oh please, fuck, I swear--

And then he doesn’t speak anymore because the first man shoots him in the head. He falls backward and something hits the wall and you can't help the noise of startled horror that slips out of your mouth.

The man turns around, gun drawn, and you have just enough time to think--this is it--before he steps forward. 

And… says your name?

The man is Chuuya.

The man is Chuuya, who holsters his gun and, mouth gaping, has his hands on you before you can even think about running. He’s checking you over--for bruises or cuts or who knows what else--and his grip on your forearm is relentlessly strong. 

“What the fuck? What the fuck?” He says, not believing the sight of you, even as he touches you. “Babe, what’s wrong? Did something happen? Where’s--”

And then he sees the bag slung over your shoulder. Sees how full it looks. He glances down at your stomach. Then back  up at your face.

“You were trying to leave?”

The hurt on his face might induce pity, if you weren’t currently dealing with the most horrific adrenaline rush in the world. 

“No,” you sputter. “Yes. No. I--” 

And it’s then that your body and mind crash together, and the realization that you’ve been caught catches up with you. You should run. You will run. 

And you try, but it’s a lost cause. You don’t even have enough leverage to take a step back with how tightly he’s holding you. Your mind knows this, but your body doesn’t accept it quite yet, and you squirm fruitlessly against him.

He only needs one hand to keep you by his side as he takes out his phone and barks out an order at someone to come take care of the body of the poor dead man in the alley.

Then he looks back at you and hurt, fear, anger, play out on his face in a series of moments. 

“We’re going,” he tells you. He’s back on his phone, another order. A car to pick you up. 

His voice promises locked doors and lost privileges, yes, but there’s something else simmering in there that has you yanking back feebly as he drags you out of the alley and into an unmarked car.

--

Every guard Chuuya crosses stammers out apologies, swears they don’t know how this happened. Chuuya deals with them in clipped tones that make you wonder if they’ll survive the night. Reassigned, if they’re lucky.

The penthouse is just as you left it. Quiet. Clean. A now runny smoothie, fortified with vitamins and calculated with the perfect natal nutrients, sits on the counter; you didn’t drink it tonight.

Chuuya drags you through to the bedroom. All this time, he hasn’t let go of your hand. There will be finger-shaped bruises tomorrow.

You expect him to scream at you. Maybe even hurt you. A physical slap might hurt less than this all-consuming fear as he pulls you into the bedroom and gently guides you to sit down on the bed. What will he do? What will he say?

Your hand grasps your belly--please don’t hurt me.

Chuuya growls out bubbling anger, turns, and punches the wall so hard that his fist goes through the drywall. His knuckles have freckles of blood on them.

The sound, the sight of the blood, the anger pressing down on your shoulders--it’s all too much and hot tears spill over your lower eyelids and down your cheeks, salty, burning. 

He’s on his knees, immediately, wrapping his arms around your midsection and pressing kisses to your tear-stained cheeks.

“Babe, I’m sorry--I didn’t mean to scare you.” He hushes your hiccuping sobs, wiping and kissing your tears in alternate measures. “I was just so fucking mad.” 

At me? You think. 

“Those guards,” he continues, frowning. “They weren’t watching you like they should.”

“But I…” You don’t finish: But I’m the one who ran away.

Your confusion must show on your face, because he presses a kiss to your cheek, to your lips. 

“Hush. I know you’re prone to fits like this. I don’t mind. It’s why I do so much to watch over you, y’know?” He rubs at your cheeks with this thumb and cracks a smile. From the corner of your eye,  you can see the blood on his knuckles. “It was either the wall or one of those guys’ heads, right?” 

He doesn’t wait for an answer as he kisses you, more lingering this time.

“You make me crazy,” he whispers against your lips. “You know that?”

“Chuuya,” you whisper, breath mingling with this. “Please, I want to… I want to…” Leave. Be free. All words you could say, that never make their way past your lips.

He sits up taller on his knees and rests his head against your stomach. There’s a flurry of movement inside you--does the baby know he’s there? What does the baby, in all its primordial growth, think of any of today’s events?

“I know it’s scary,” Chuuya murmurs. “You don’t have to tell me. We’re about to be parents. Anyone would be worried.” 

That’s not what you wanted to say. It’s hard to say if Chuuya knows it and pretends otherwise or simply doesn’t acknowledge your resistance at all. 

He sighs through his nose and closes his eyes.

“I’ll have to bring the chain back out for a while. Maybe until the baby comes.” He opens his eyes just a little and glances up at you with a smile. “But I can make it long enough for you to walk around. Doctor said you needed to stretch your legs every day, babe.”

He closes his eyes again and you don’t know what else you can do but reach out and rest your palm against his head. He leans into your touch.

“I know,” you croak out. There’s a few beats--of your heart?--and your fingers curl against his hair. “I’m sorry I went outside.” What else can you do, but lean into Chuuya, but apologize for doing what he insists you never do. Leave him, be free, live your own life.

He sighs and nuzzles himself against your stomach. He presses a soft kiss to it before pulling himself off the floor, leaning down, and kissing you on the head.

“I know, babe. Don’t worry. I’m not mad.”

You wonder what Chuuya might have done if he had gotten angry at you.

Perhaps it’s better not to know.

[demonic0angel]

Can you write some badhumor? I love them😭

(Hell yeah!! It got long bc I got excited lmao)

Nightwing was not in a great position right now. He was currently tied up, suspended off of the ground, injected with unknown drugs, and only moments away from being delivered to some new and unknown mob boss within Blüdhaven. All he could do was wait for an opportunity to escape until the drugs kicked in.

"I guess this is what they meant when an angel loses their wings, huh?" A low, velvety voice said. "You seem to have lost yours."

Dick looked up in shock. "... Wraith?!"

There, floating near the windows on the ceilings, was a being wearing black and white with glowing, floating hair and luminscently green skin. He smiled, flashing sharp fangs, and Nightwing felt his heart drop.

Wraith was a neutral entity that had appeared in Blüdhaven for an unknown purpose. There was little known about him, except that he was powerful, feared nothing, hated humans, and had a strange, unexplained fondness for Nightwing.

Although Nightwing could not trust him, he could not deny that Wraith hadn't done anything yet. For the most part, he just roamed Blüdhaven to follow Nightwing and watch him occasionally with flirty or cryptic comments before disappearing and then coming back at the most random times.

Nightwing shuddered as he realized that he was now vulnerable in front of this being with unknown motives.

"Hello, birdie," Wraith purred. "You seem a little... tied up."

Nightwing chuckled, hiding his inner nervousness. His body was beginning to shake from the drugs and the exertion of being extended off of the ground by his hands. "Yep. So could you untie me?"

Wraith floated down, touching upon the ground gracefully before prowling forward, head tilted as he observed Nightwing's tied up form.

"I could... but what's in it for me?"

Fuck.

Nightwing grit his teeth. His vision was growing blurry. Sweat began to bead at his brow as the heat within his body rose sharply. He glared at Wraith, who stood still, watching him with the eyes of a predator.

"If you can't, then just fuck off."

"You're more rude than usual, little bird."

Nightwing felt his body tremble as the pain and heat suddenly grew unbearable, like needles were stabbing into him over and over. His ears began to ring and the world started to swirl, spiraling into colors and dark spots.

"Ohhh. Oops."

And then his vision faded into unconsciousness and blistering heat.

In his slumber, he felt the comforting presence of something cold. He chased after the chill to drive off the sweltering heat, and as cool hands gingerly weaved onto his hair and scratched at his scalp, he fell deeper and deeper into a gentle sleep.

He woke up the next morning, eyes wide as he sat up in a comfortable and large bed.

He looked down on himself, where he was still dressed in his hero suit and mask, but all of his visible injuries were treated and bandaged. His sprained wrist was wrapped and splinted expertly, but there was nothing else that was out of the ordinary. He didn't not feel as achy or tired as he expected from such an ordeal yesterday.

Nightwing carefully climbed out of bed and then investigated the room. There were no cameras or recording devices, and the door was even unlocked and open. There was nothing suspicious about the room besides the fact that Nightwing was in it, alone.

He peeked outside of the room and then he went through the hallway, observing the place. It looked like a high-end apartment, and there was no one else but him inside. When he entered the kitchen, there was a meal prepared for him, wrapped up and cool on the counter.

There was a note attached to it as well, written in a messy scrawl.

'Nightwing, I hope you had a good rest. I can assure you that the food is not poisoned and the gang members have already been taken care of. Do not wreck the place, since it does not belong to me.

— Wraith'

Nightwing pursed his lips. He looked at the food on the tray and then at the apartment again. Everything looked cold, impersonal, but also neat and clean. Without a second thought, he snatched the entire meal tray before opening and window and jumping out with zero hesitation.

He landed on the roof of a building next door, mentally recorded the address of the apartment number, and when he got home to his own run-down apartment, he immediately began his investigation, though not without checking the food for poison first.

As the tests ran, he searched for the name of whoever owned the apartment complex.

The food was soon deemed clear before he could find anything, and Nightwing took a bite as he typed. He barely withheld a moan as the amazing flavors burst on his tongue. Nightwing's eyes lit up as he now regarded the food with more awe. He scarfed it down, barely able to focus on working the entire time, completely rejuvenated by the delicious food and rest.

The apartment was rented by a man named Daniel Nightingale, but owned by a man named Vlad Masters. Daniel was currently working as an executive assistant to the CEO of the Masters Company, who had recently moved locations into Gotham and Blüdhaven.

There were, however, no pictures of this assistant, and no reports or news of him.

Nightwing licked away the last remains of his breakfast from his lips, deep in thought as he tried to connect the dots between Wraith and this Daniel character.

If he looked into him now... then maybe he could find out more about Wraith?

(And maybe Nightwing could figure out the strange feeling in his chest that blossomed whenever he thought of Wraith, who had treated him with a strange amount of respect and interest all in once.)

[evergreen-endo]

you are literally crazy if you thought i wasn't gonna write this for my pookiepies too. + some extras.

18+ minors dni. perverted jack off/cum analysis ft. takiishi chika, endo yamato, kanon banjo, hiragi toma. pt. 1 here.

takiishi has such a pretty cock. long and tanned and veiny. a hard dick is such an inconvenience to him though. doesn’t really jack off with the intention of self pleasure, just taking care of business. it does always make him feel much better though. he just doesn’t do it that frequently! when he does, he’s pretty quick because he knows what he likes and how to cum as fast as possible. another one that prefers to stand so he can cum into something; like a sink, the shower, whatever. gets really breathy when he’s close. soft grunts and groans as he’s cumming. literally like…squeezes the cum out of the tip of his cock. can i say something? i’m going to say something. and listen. i love this man, i really do. but his cum is foul. all he eats is junk. i really do not think he ever drinks water. it is so, so thick. thickest of all the windbreaker men. and i’m not going to lie to you, it’s the kind that is like super gloopy, and sticky, and tinged more of a creamy yellowish color. it’s a bitch to clean up. and he cums a lot, and has so much stamina. 

endo is so slutty with it. leaks so much precum. noisy as all hell, whines and whimpers and moans and gasps. throws his head back a lot, rolls his eyes back into his skull, thrashes around and bucks his hips. edges himself sometimes but he’s just a bit too impatient to do it properly. if he wants to cum, he wants to cum now. the day he discovered his nipples were sensitive he nearly exploded on the spot. gathers up some precum on his fingers so he can tweak and pinch at them while he works himself with his other hand. talks dirty like he’s not alone. so good, so so so good. just like that, yeahyeahyeah. fuck you’re gonna make me cum. gonna make a mess. and he does. strokes so much faster when he’s about to cum because he gets desperate so even if he were to shoot beautiful perfect ropes clean onto his abs, it ends up flying all over the place from the force of jerking his dick around. so out of breath and panting and gulping when he finishes because his mouth is so dry from having it hung open while he plays with himself. also! gets morning wood real real bad. humps his pillows, humps the bed, muffles his moans biting into the sheets, really likes being able to move his hips and thrust into something. again, he makes a huge mess. sweat everywhere he lays from exertion, spit soaked sheets and drool, and of course, cum all over his abdomen and the pillowcases. 

kanon banjo is a SLUT. WHORE. and a SKANK. (affectionate). ahem. let me elaborate. he is so depraved. bites his lip till he damn near starts bleeding, the type to get really delirious and giggle and smile with pleasure. realllyyyy likes cock rings. he gets so sensitive and whiny and whimpery, twitches like crazy. edges himself till his tip is bright red. pinches the fuck out of his nipples like can someone get him some clamps. does a lot of breath play! holds his breath for as long as he can, hangs his head off the edge of his bed…genuinely might be stupid enough to try autoerotic asphyxiation but i’m not gonna get into it LOL. anyway. cums hard every time. his cock is so restricted the cum spurts out in forks, like three separate streams shooting out of his tip….n then it sets off his cum kink and he’s gotta scoop it all up and use it as lube for a second round.

hiragi the man that you are. jacking off is the stress release/medicine he can only get in private! gets home from something stressful and beelines to the bathroom to unzip his pants and whip it out. i mean, he strains against those leather pants all day, giving it some fresh air feels good in and of itself. not taking his pants off fully puts a little pressure on his balls and he likes that. sighs so heavy when he wraps his hand around it. def the type to end up fucking into his hand, hips moving more than his arm is. so much deep sighing. his tummy clenches up really pretty when he’s close, and when he finally cums, he lets out lots of sounds that seem really frustrated; breathy, choked groans and strained grunts. i think his cum is a really good consistency, not too thick or thin, but the actual streams seem thin because it shoots so far! he kinda likes the sound it makes when it drips onto the floor. will purposefully move a towel or rug out of the way so he can hear it go plap onto the tiles.

[slvtforasht0n]

Jealousy, jealousy

title inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s track on Sour

.✦ || Boyfriend!Ash x Reader

.✦ || This is your first time being a stagehand at your boyfriend and his band’s show. Even though you couldn’t watch him perform, a particular interaction between him and a female fan piqued your interest. You couldn’t help but look, ought to see what’s happening. Instead, jealousy gets the better of you once you see what’s really going on, your mood permanently shifted. At least, that’s what it felt like.

A/N: first half is highly based on that one interaction that happened in the 5SOS diaries. forever jealous of that girl lol. anyway, i hope you like what i’ve brought out for you for my first post ever. kinda always wanted a tumblr account to post every idea or blurb i get, but ya girl can be very very lazy sometimes.

inspired to write smut ever since i had wattpad. saying this loud and proud. loved duplicity, stall and malignant so there’s that random fact (turn it up for all the other harries/directioners reading this)

i don’t write that much so i’m still trying to improve wherever i need to. ps. english isn’t my first language, so if you do spot grammer/vocab mistakes, it’s not on me sista, still learning:3 sooo i guess i’ll just finish it off by saying this; sit back, relax and enjoy :^)

CONTENT WARNING: fluff & smut, praise kink, oral (m!receiving), spitting, sliiiight dirty talking

WORD COUNT: 5,2k

────୨ৎ────

As much as you hate your boyfriend in this moment— he wriggled his way to here. His hands all over your frame, reaching to every spot he can find, almost as if his hands have a mind of their own.

His kisses grow more impatient, needy and full of want. Drawing gentle circles against the small strip of bare skin on your back, making you both break the kiss apart with a small gasp.

You weren’t sure of your emotions. Did you want to continue and make him have his way with you? Or did you want to push him away and strangle the living hell out of him?

A faint whimper escapes your lips in between the kiss, his hand traveling down to the heat between your clothed legs. That feeling alone begs to differ. As much as you don’t want to admit to it. You still have that small abhor, but also intense jealousy from what happened prior to all of this.

He breaks the kiss apart, his eyes finding yours. The hazelly green forest almost dispersed into his black pupils, blown out and primed. Fuck… you think to yourself. He looks so provocatively striking, like an erotic sex-god, which is enough to drive you wild— both in a good and a bad way.

“Let me make it up to you, amore mio.” He prompts, his hands finding your waist again to pull you in closer, showing you how induced he is, the want and need inside of him written all over his face.

—

This day has been…chaotic, booked, a haywire of physical and mental exertion that drove you into madness. Almost. You only had a 20 minute break before going back to work, crew following along, five different people guffing into your earpiece that just rubs you the wrong way. Being irritated isn’t even slightly nearing to what you’re actually feeling.

Finally, you walked inside the venue, a moment of calm before the storm. Happy you can let your guard down for another minute or two. You take a deep breath, moving scenery and props along with two other crew members, joining in after your one true moment of silence.

Being a stagehand at a show of your own boyfriend is uncommon, just something you’re not really used to. You’re not sure if you’re able to keep your cool seeing Ashton on stage, beating those drums expertisely, face etched into pure concentration. You always found it to be a work of art, to see your boyfriend practicing at home or somewhere that isn’t on a stage.

But hey, you bite the bullet once it’s showtime, having to face away from the stage, meanwhile he’ll be there to steal the show.

The crew had cued that the band arrived several moments later, and as much as you want to run away to find him, you’re still stuck planning, discussing and arranging tonight’s act.

Hours have passed on and exhaustion seemed to get the better of you. The small gig now filled with a couple of thousands of fangirls, boys, moms, dads, you name it. Two thousand to be exact. You’re not sure if it makes you intrigued, or uncomfortable. Either way, you find yourself lucky you’re not in that crammed crowd.

Playing more intimate, smaller shows was out of the ordinary for the band, something they wouldn’t have done a year ago or two.

The show has started not long after, and your back is facing the stage, eyes on all of these screaming fangirls for their idols in front of them, hands in the air, phones recording, but mainly their loud screams that’s luckily muffled by your in-ears. All you could do is focus on the beat of the drums, imagining his every movement of prowess, how trickles of sweat is already forming on his forehead.

You don’t have it in you not to look, so you do. Just the smallest of sneak-peak. Though, his eyes immediately found yours, like all of his focus was on the back of your head this whole time. Your heart starts to pound faster against your chest, turning your head back to the crowd ahead. Just keep your cool… keep your cool— You have to remind yourself every minute. Or rather every second.

You’re glued to the spot, making sure everyone’s safe and sound. However, there’s a small interaction going on between a fan and… Ashton. His voice being heard through the microphone gives you some sort of solace, your focal point on every pronunciation and syllable on the words that falls from his lips.

This particular interaction is focused on the fan’s cardboard sign, stipulating that it’s her twenty first birthday and now legal to drink, suggesting Ashton a shot. They expeditiously agree and brought the stunned girl up stage. Your eyes followed hers, turning around to look at the stage ahead. You didn’t have the heart in you to dismiss this and act like nothing’s going on.

Ashton’s change of demeanour, presence next to this fan, and just the overall vibes he’s got going on throws you right off the wall. It’s like he’s throwing her a curveball of coy behaviour, something that doesn’t sit right with you. It’s either that or you’re overthinking it. But then again, you might not be, especially having your eyes glued on him right now, watching him unfold into someone he’s not.

You hate it. You hated every second of it, watching the scene ahead. She gets to be the one giving your sweaty boyfriend a hug, a prolonged hug. Sharing a shot, looking into his eyes- him looking into her eyes. It’s like hot steams are blowing out of your ears by how much you hate seeing this with your own eyes. If it were possible, you’d throw Ashton’s drum kit right to his head out of spite and anger. You can’t believe him.

You’re definitely not overthinking, since you’ve picked up on him being ‘the man of the show’. Trying to seem more charming and appealing, in all the wrong ways. You know he loves getting this type of attention, boosts his ego in the wrong way and you’d love to just kick him right in the nuts.

Once the show’s over, you’re finally in your own privacy, changing your uniform to your day to day outerwear. A knock is heard on the door, catching you out of your hazy thoughts, while also feeling jealous and incensed. You open the door and you’re immediately knocked down with a feather.

“What are you doing here?” you utter, laced in a grim tone, not expecting to see his cheery face. Ashton stands in front of you, eyebrows raised by your surprising outburst.

“Checking in on my girlfriend. What else would I be doing?” He responds nonchalantly, entering the small room without needing to ask for permission. Of course he wouldn’t.

He runs a hand through his damp curls, looking around the room before looking back to you. It’s like he struggles to read you and why you’re not responding to him, why you’re facing away from him. “Hey…” He starts off, walking up to you and placing his hands on your waist, making you turn around to face him.

You push his hands off your body almost immediately, his eyes on stalks. “Baby, what’s wrong?” he counters, his eyes searching yours.

The more he acts this oblivious, the more you want to give into the idea of kicking him in the nuts and walking out of this room. You decide to just tell him before he’s going for the the well known question ‘are you on your period?’.

“The fuck was that up stage?” you angrily mutter, crossing your arms over your chest.

He seems confused, which is one more reason to be angry at him. How can he be so painfully heedless? You desperately need to just knock some sense into that thick skull of his.

“What?” he raises his arms in an ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ motion.

“Oh, so now you’ve got memory loss? Great.” you roll your eyes, facing the other way instead of him. Again. How can a human being manage to piss you off this much? It’s inane.

“Amore… tell me.” He waits for you to say something, anything at all, but all you do is stand there and glare, causing him to take a step closer to you. “Was it the girl who I did a shot with?”

Bingo.

You can’t help but roll your eyes again, as if it wasn’t that obvious why you’d be mad at him about that in the first place.

“Oh come on… Nothing happened, alright? Just did her a favour and probably made her whole night.”

“Yeah, right.” You bite back immediately, not buying any of the bullshit he’s spitting. You can’t even look him in the eyes. You’re deranged in anger, but also so confused and hurt. He’d never gone this close to a girl before in all the months you’ve been dating, so he surely needs to understand why you’re acting the way you are.

“Why are you making a big deal out of this?” he murmurs, managing to boil your blood to the point you could burn anything you touch into ashes.

“Are you kidding me, Ash?” you poss in vexation, glaring through his soul. Words can’t express how tense you’re getting and how much you want to wipe that foolish smirk off his face.

“Babe, you can’t be serious, can you?” He sneers, his eyes giving you a once over. You only let out a frustrated sigh, turning your back to him a third time.

You don’t know what he deserves more, a sucker punch right to his jaw or the infamous silent treatment. Maybe both could give him a well-earned reality check.

“Are you seriously mad about some measly fucking interaction? Really, Y/N?” he huffs, seeming more annoyed than amused this time. Which makes you, on the other hand, infuriated by even more rage.

The way he acts so unbothered is insufferable. You turn on your heel, facing him, an angry etched expression on your face he certainly can’t dismiss now. “You were flirting with her, you ass! Right in front of me!” You bark back, sick of his apathetic state. Just utterly sick of him.

“I wasn’t, Y/N! Why would you even think that?” he retorts, his obliviousness turning into annoyance, his arms now crossed over his chest as well.

You don’t respond, only letting out a spiteful scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I really don’t see what’s wrong here. You have no reason to be mad at me. None.” he mutters, which is just the cherry on the cake, isn’t it? You let out another angry huff before turning on your heel and leaving him in the room, despite it being yours.

However, you’re not as quick as you thought you were as he catches your wrist, wrapping his hand around it and pulling you closer to him.

“Don’t run away from me, baby. None of that bullshit. Talk it out with me, curse me out, just don’t ever shut me out, okay?” he calmly explains, his eyes trained on yours with his eyebrows creased together in concentration on you. Only you. You take a deep breath, flicking your eyes in between his.

“Why were you flirting with that girl?” you ask after a long pause, your eyes focusing on that one curl that fell on his forehead.

“I wasn’t.” He responds, and it just made you feel even more obscured from this ridiculous situation that brought tension between you two.

You’re starting to think you might be overdoing it. Might be a bit of the jealous kind and just making this ought to paint you to be dramatic.

“Is that all you have to say?” you mask getting offended by his short, incoherent reply, just by answering repulsively back.

“What more can I say then? You’re making a mountain out of a molehill here.” He crosses his arms again, and it just messes with your head on what type of emotions and feelings are coursing through him. What his thought process is, ‘cause he’s doing everything he can to dismiss the issue. Dismissing your feelings that are as valid as can be. At least that’s what you wanna think.

“Never mind.” You pull away from his grip, sitting down at the nearest couch. You’re done trying to argue to a wall, because that’s the position you feel like you’re in, feeling trapped in a loophole if he continues to act this clueless.

He looks over at you, no remorse whatsoever, and that somehow rises more anger out of you, though you make sure you keep your poker-face. There’s no point anymore if he won’t try to understand you.

“Are ya really just gonna sit there and stare?” he asks. But after a long pause, he just knows there’s not going to be a reply.

“Silent treatment won’t solve anything, love.” he adds, looking at you across the room, his eyebrows furrowed as he runs his hand through his hair again.

“Y/N…Just quit it already, will ya?” he grows more annoyed and impatient by your attitude. However, nothing will make you utter out a word again. Not when he at least attempts to apologise.

“Fuck’s sake, Y/N… I don’t have time for this. I’m sorry, alright? I wasn’t flirting with the girl- would never do that.”

You think to yourself you might have overexaggerated on wanting an attempted apology, cause it just pisses you off even more.

“Talk to me…” he prompts, taking a few steps closer to you.

You don’t respond, and he takes it as some sort of indication to stride closer. He takes your hands in his, pulling you up to your feet and cupping your jaw, making sure you look him in the eyes. “Please?”

You hate him. You hate him so much you’re becoming a tough nut to crack, and he’s fully aware of that. He knows how stubborn and jealous you can get over the smallest things. Still, you don’t know where his mind is.

He pulls you in for a kiss, connecting his lips with yours, catching you by surprise. His hands are trailing down your body and reposing on your waist, pulling you closer than before.

If this is how he ventures his way out to say sorry to you, when you can’t take it as a simple word, you’re not…entirely against it.

You stare profoundly into his eyes after he breaks the kiss, his eyes searching yours—But your feelings are very conflicting. You so want to give in, but you’re still mad. And you still hate him. Well, you’re trying to make yourself hate him.

It feels like it’s been ages since you’ve uttered out a word, but that’s none of your concern as you pull him in for another heated kiss, your hand finding its way through his tousled hair, earning a soft groan on his end. His tongue slips out and swipes at your bottom lip, asking for permission to enter your mouth as you oblige immediately.

He has you fully wrapped around your finger. You can’t even be mad at him anymore, even if it’s play pretend.

His hands are on your waist, but it didn’t take long before one hand slips between your legs, making you instantly weak in the knees.

“Let me make it up to you, amore mio.” replays in your mind over and over when you brought him in for another desperate kiss, pouring out all of your feelings and love for him. The way he said it, the desperation in his voice and his dilated eyes— you can never say no to that. You need him.

You’re a hot mess, letting out huffs of pleasure as he continues to palm you through your jeans, like an attempt to hear you, even if it’s not through articulated words.

He pulls away from your lips, traveling his heated series of kisses down to your pulse-point, eliciting another hot whimper out of you. You’re dazed and all you want is more. More of him. Just more.

He hoists you up, your legs immediately clinging around his hips as he leads you towards the small couch, laying you down and hovering his body over yours.

He’s such a sight for sore eyes, carrying the grace of dawn and the mystery of dusk. Your eyes wandering over every feature of his face, just taking him in. He bites back a smile, his eyes lingering on your chest, then back to your eyes. “Want me to make you feel good, yeah?” his voice is ragged with desire, low and husky that has such a toll on you.

He goes back in for a fervent kiss before you could even respond, pouring out all of his love for you that makes you forget the anger you once had a thousand times more. Your hands wander over his shoulders, all the way down to his hips, pulling him in closer, trapping him in between your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist.

He lets out a low grunt in between the kiss, his hips grinding against your heat, drawing out another small sound out of you. His hands that has a mind of its own fondling your breasts through the thin material of your shirt, like he couldn’t get enough of you and he physically needs more. You want more of him too, totally entranced by him, the heat of desire pooling in between your legs with an intensified want to have him in ways that’s unrefined. He moves towards the crook of your neck again, marking you up as his.

You’re already impatient as is, your uncoordinated fingers fumbling with his belt, like you can’t stand seeing him in clothes for another wasted second. He lets you, still immersed in marking your neck up, making sure there are angry marks left behind.

Once you’ve found the zipper of his tight jeans, you tug the material down, his hands coming in rescue and helping himself out of his jeans. In an instant, he pulls at the hem of your shirt, dragging the material over your head and throwing it somewhere in the room. Your eyes have wandered off to the door behind him and suddenly you’re too aware that someone could walk in easily.

“Babe… this room has no lock.” you mention, evoking a small smirk on his face. “Don’t you think it’s more fun that way? No one’s gonna come in.” He teases, eyes shamelessly staring at your bra, like he’s trying to smog up the power to disappear things with his mind.

“But-“ he’s quick to pipe you down by a kiss on the lips. “No ‘but’s’, you’re safe with me, amore.”

You pull him back in, sick of prolonging this any longer and seriously needing a good fuck if he’s gonna make it worth the while. If this is his way to at least attempt to apologise, then he better makes it good. Not that he has ever disappointed you in that division.

He hovers over you again, faces inches from yours, his hand snaking under your back to unclasp your bra in what feels like a nanosecond. He pulls the material off your body like it’s some sort of pest- like he’s been wanting it off since the moment he had laid eyes on you. He nips and sucks at your skin, hands exploring every inch of you. He licks a stripe right above your boobs, staring up at you with a well-known grin, eager to have his way with you.

He swipes his tongue over your sensitive nipple, lapping you up and then latching you in between his lips, paying great attention to you with his mouth, suckling and nibbling on your flesh. His other hand wanders to your untended breast, his fingers playing with the other nipple. You let out a soft whimper, already captivated by his fervent skills, your fingers threading through his soft curls.

Your eyes catches his, a sultry grin appearing on his face that has you overdriven with more arousal, more desire for him.

He moves to your other nipple, giving it the same, equal attention, drawing even more sounds and pants out of you.

All you really want is for him to hurry up. Your mind can’t get off of that damned door that has no lock on it, and he’s about to undress you intimately, which has made you apprehensive. He quickly catches on by your stiff demeanour and he lowers himself down, licking a long strip down your bare stomach- trying to make you forget about the door.

You lull your head back, your breath ragged and uneven as you tug at his golden strands tighter than before, earning a low grunt from him. He sure knows how to make you forget about stuff in an instant.

He has his hands on each side of your hips, trailing them towards the button of your black jeans. He works his way to get you out of your clothes, fast and determined, pulling the fabric down your thighs as you help him kick off the material.

“So gorgeous f’me, amore.” he grunts, quickly discarding his shirt off of him, accentuating his perfect, sweaty body to you, the sculputred abs and delicious pecs staring right at you as we speak. You sit up straight on the couch with only the flimsy laced underwear you’re wearing covering three percent of your body at most.

His eyes widen the moment you drop down to your knees in front of him, head-level with the black boxer briefs clung tightly on him. It highlights the swell of his tent that’s covered by the thin material of his Calvin Kleins. Your doe-eyed expression seems to get the better of him, already biting his bottom lip from your sight.

You waste no time, hooking your fingers under the material of his boxers, sliding them down ‘till they drop to his feet. He’s quick when it comes to stepping out of them, eager for you.

You’ve seen him like this before, plenty of times even, but right now— it’s like his arousal is as painful as it seems. His tip an angry shade of pink, pre-cum glazing down to his shaft. His breathing is laboured, his eyes concentrated on you, like he’s trying to moderate himself, keeping everything under control before he snaps.

You wrap your hand around his cock, the smallest of touch already making him hiss in pleasure. With deep shared eye contact, you start to pump him slowly, collecting the pre-cum that’s spilling out of him, whirling it over his tip, eliciting another desperate whimper from his agape lips. His eyebrows are creased, the purity in his eyes completely gone- reciprocated into something more coarse and obscene.

“Baby.. open your mouth.” he demands in a breathier tone, and you instantly oblige. With that, he cups your jaw with both of his large hands, his eyes intensely staring at yours. You don’t know what to expect, but he stars to hover over you, his face significantly closer to yours. He gives you that snarky smirk you know all too well, and then makes sure to lift your jaw a little up higher as he spits into your mouth without caution. Your eyes widen a little, his spit landing right on your tongue.

“Now swallow f’me, amore.” he orders, and you do exactly as he says.

Jesus…even in times like these— he still tastes divine.

His one hand threads through your hair, his other leaving the underside of your chin. “Show me what you’ve got…be my good girl.” he growls, standing up straight. You’re completely gone off guard by this small interaction between you and him, but you quickly shake it off, your trembly hand going back to where it was before.

You lick a strip up over his shaft, swirling your tongue on his tip that has him already writhing for more. You finally take him in your mouth, wrapping your lips sweetly around him and taking him inch by inch, a swall groan leaving his lips in exchange.

You set up a space, sucking him as you wrap your hand around the part that doesn’t fit in your mouth, his hand threading in your hair expeditiously. Low grunts and groans escapes his mouth, totally entranced by your ministrations as he couldn’t help but thrust forward, meeting your pace and rhythm all. He hits the back of your throat at every thrust, tears already brimming in your eyes that eventually seeps down to your cheeks. You couldn’t help but suck him with more precision, eyes deeply concentrated on his breathtaking face.

The desperation and anguish is written all over him, like he couldn’t bear this and needs you in ways where it’s humanly impossible to describe. Sweat already trickles over his forehead, eyes pleading for you, in a way that makes you believe his pupils are contorted into spelling your name- his want like a screeching howl that blares through your eardrums.

In a quick motion, he pulls out of you and you take your time to catch your breath, heaving them out like you’ve ran a marathon, quickly wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He pulls you to your feet, hands on your hips and instantly pushing you backwards on the couch as your back hits the cushions, laying flat on the surface. Hovering over you, he delicately scans his eyes over your whole frame, taking in every detail from your tousled hair to your almost naked self. He traps himself in between your spread out legs, his length making contact with your lower abdomen, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

His arms are on each side of you, a few strands of his curls hanging over his forehead. “Need to fuck you, baby. Need you right now.” He murmurs, his voice hoarse and his tone laced in pure lust.

You bite your bottom lip as he positions you, hands firmly grasping your hips in desperation. “Please…” You utter out, the only thing your lips can form as a sole word, while your mind is going a million miles an hour with how much you have to say.

The warmth of his palms are soon replaced by the cool air hitting your hips, his hands sliding down to your thighs as his fingers prudently play with the lace of your underwear. “So beautiful…” He murmurs in almost a whisper. “I only have eyes for you, you know that right?” He adds, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, examining him. “I know...” you reply in a soft mumble and his lips quirk up in a lopsided smile.

You glance down his body, and the sight alone has you as weak as water. He pumps himself a few times, eyes still trained on yours. He pulls at the laced material of your panties, prodding his length right under the fabric as he teasingly begins to rub himself against you. You let out a stifled moan, eyebrows creased upwards in simple pleasure. He’s fervent with you, fastening his pace ever so slightly that drives you insane. “So wet f’me, yeah?” he grunts, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss.

Your soft moans are muffled in between the kiss as his hand that rested on your hip is now gripping your thigh, quickly hooking it over his shoulder. He positions himself at your entrance, gliding himself inside you fervently with your panties now pushed aside. A soft gasp escapes your throat, head already lulled back by how full he’s making you feel once he’s fully inside. After making sure you adjust to him, he begins to set up a slow pace, hovering over your body even closer as this new profound feeling intensifies, hitting you in all the right places.

“So fucking pretty for me, baby… Let me hear you, yeah? Moan f’me…” he praises, and all you could do in response to that is grow louder- despite still being in a semi-public setting. There’s a small chance someone could walk in, or even hear you through the door, but your mind is elsewhere. It’s on him, totally engulfed in pleasure he gives you.

“Taking me so well…” He pants, heaving out breaths as his thrusts start to become rougher, dragging out more moans out of you. “So good for me, aren’t you? Gonna fill you up so well...” He continues, his hands trailing over every inch of your body, fingers lightly pinching at your nipples, eliciting another whimpery moan from your lips.

He continues to thrust into you deliciously, hooking your other leg over his other shoulder, this newfound angle hitting your sweet spot delightfully over and over again. Moans spill out of you in an overwhelming sensation, that’s probably music to his ears by the way he’s thoroughly captivated by you.

His own moans fall from his lips once your hips buck up to match his rhythm of his thrusts. “I’m so close...” you heave out, eyes rolling to the back of your head. He takes this as a sign to fuck you harder. Rougher. Like he wants to break you in half.

He adds his thumb to your sensitive clit, drawing out louder moans, that has no way of becoming less when it’s only pitching up higher in decibels. “You’re so fucking hot, baby…So perfect.” he praises you, totally wrapped up in utter pleasure, the slapping sounds of skin on skin echoing through the room.

“Please…” you plead in a high whimper, not really sure why, but you’re completely overdriven in ecstasy, his thumb on your sensitivity never leaving you which adds to more pleasure, egging you on.

“Yeah, amore mio? Gonna give it to me, aren’t you? Show me… Show me how good I make you feel.” he groans completely out of breath, his chest glistening with his own sweat. He leans down, folding you in half like a damned pretzel, hitting you even deeper than before. He nips on the skin at the crook of your neck, humming against you.

“Making me feel so good…” he murmurs against your skin, his thrusts piercing more moans out of you, knowing how much you enjoy his rough side.

The bubbling feeling inside your lower abdomen intensifies by the minute, exhibiting that you’re nearing the finish line. He knows by your desperate pants and graphic sounds as he strives to get you to the pinnacle point of pleasure, picking up on his thrusts, fucking you harder against the cushions with fervor.

Your brain starts to feel like scrambled eggs, moving from left to right in a stirring pan as his lips finds yours in a sweet quick kiss, pulling away to look at you. His hands grip your waist as tight as ever, definitely leaving a mark behind. His whimpers like a melody you can never get sick of, no matter how many times you’re willing to repeat the same tune.

A few more thrusts in and you hear the familiar ringing in your ears as you near the edge completely, your climax washing over you like a tidal wave. You scream out his name in the process, clenching sweetly around him as he follows right behind you and finishes, trails of curse words falling from his lips in heavy grunts—filling you with his cum.

He unhooks your legs from his shoulders, pulling out of you with a small gasp. He crashes down next to you, heaving out hefty breaths. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, keeping you close to his glistening body. “See? You’re safe with me, just like I told you.” he breathes, letting out a soft chuckle.

You turn your face to look at him, a genuine smile formed on your lips, despite being completely out of breath. “Mmmh, never said you were wrong.”

He chuckles in response, planting a sweet kiss to your temple. “You felt incredible baby, definitely needed this after the show.”

You smile, all the anger and jealousy from before completely wiped off of you. “I always do.” you counter with a smug grin, giving him a bit of a tease.

“A win-win situation for me, eh?” He eyes you, eyebrows raised with a cheeky smile. You laugh, shaking your head. “Definitely.” You agree, a small giggle followed after.

“So… I take it that you’re not mad at me anymore?” He asks, his voice laced in a sincere tone.

You had almost forgotten about how immensely infuriated you were before this happened. “I forgive you.” you murmur, glancing at him.

“I mean it when I told you I only have eyes for you.” he utters, pulling you even closer than before, pecking the top of your head.

This was definitely a way to end the night, after a very small gig took place and how the man of your dreams next to you can have you riled up in anger as well as desire in the span of two seconds. You’re not complaining about it at all. You wouldn’t have him any other way— even if it means all the ups and downs that comes with it.

————

[angelatmidnight1]

Between a Rock and a Hard Place

A/N: I've had a stressful couple of weeks and wanted to write a quick story with ler!Astarion and lee!reader. This was inspired by one of the helping lines he has where he says "you look good helpless". @tickly-deer-boy here is a quick Astarion fic!

Summary- Tav is stuck, and Astarion comes to get them out of trouble. He had no idea that they were ticklish…and gods, is it entertaining. 

Paring- Astarion x Tav (platonic).

Word Count- 1.8k.

Warnings- None. But please note this is a tickle fic!

Tav grunted in frustration as they tried to wriggle free from the narrow space between the crates. Their movements only caused them to get more wedged in the spot. They were reaching forward, straining to reach Lae’zel’s outstretched hand, only to just be out of her reach. 

“K’chaki. I told you to go around.” Lae’zel grumbled in exasperation. She withdrew her hand. “We waste precious time while you struggle. At any moment, we could become ghaik.” 

“I know that,” Tav groaned and tried to launch themselves forward. They barely moved an inch, and now their waist was fully stuck between the crates. “It’s almost like you’ve been saying the same thing since we crashed! If you’d shut up and give me your hand, I’d be out of here already.”

“You cannot reach my hand,” Lae’zel pointed out as if it was as obvious as day. “And I have no time to wait and make up for your shortcomings. Had I known you would slow me down, I would have left you to your fate on the nautolid.” 

“And you would have no astral prism. You’d turn into a mindflayer before me,” Tav grunted and decided to change tactics, twisting their hips to try and dislodge themselves. It didn’t work. Lae’zel checked her pack, believing she’d been the one carrying it, only for Tav to give a mocking sneer. “Honestly, it’d be an improvement. You wouldn’t be talking so much if you had a mouth full of tentacles.”

Lae’zel scowled. She took a step forward, hand on the hilt of her sword. “You think it’s wise to provoke me in your position?”

Before you could challenge her, Astarion’s silky voice sounded from somewhere behind you. “Now now, darlings. Let’s not turn our blades on each other. We’ve so many enemies we could stab instead..”

Tav heard the sound of his shoes crunching over gravel as he approached them. The sound stopped when he froze, taking in the scene of the trapped leader in front of him. “Oh. Oh dear. Someone’s gotten themselves in a spot of trouble, hm?”

Tav didn’t have to see his face to know he was smirking. They bristled, and they would’ve turned to leer at them if they hadn’t been pinned at the waist. “Hilarious, Astarion. Truly. How about doing something useful and helping me?”

The vampire clicked his tongue. “My, so touchy. I’m almost tempted to leave you there. Who knows what a less friendly adventurer would do if they found you?”

“You wouldn’t,” Tav retorted. “You’d miss me too much. Who else would wake up day after day to tell you how handsome you are?” 

“Cheeky,” Astarion smirked. “Still, I’m not convinced to help you. If only there was a word you could say that would make me reconsider. Something like, oh, I don’t know…please?”

“To hells with that,” Tav palmed the sides of the crates and pushed at them. Besides the occasional, minuscule move, they remained right where they were. Their face contorted with exertion, and they heard Astarion snickering behind them. 

“That’s four words, and I'm not looking for any of them.” Astarion stepped closer and leaned against the crates. “But by all means, keep squirming. You look good helpless…”

The heat rose to their cheeks, or maybe that was from all of their struggling? Tav wasn’t sure. They gave up on pushing the crates and twisting their body to and fro. Then, exhaling through their nose, they grumbled, “Fine. Please help me, Astarion. There, happy?”

“Your groveling skills need work,” he snorted. “But it would be cruel for me to expect a grand performance in your state. So of course, my dear, I’ll help you.” Astarion moved behind them, hands outstretching to rest on their sides. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and he rotated them to determine the best angle to pull them from. The light touches sent shivers up their spine, though he didn’t seem to notice. If anything, Tav would’ve chalked it up to the cold. Astarion moved his hands higher, now resting just below their rib cage. His fingers slid along their skin, looking for gods know what, and they jolted.

“What are you doing?” Tav cried incredulously. Lucky for them, he couldn’t see the grin tugging at the corner of their lips.  Lae’zel had already stormed off, leaving the two of them alone. 

“Helping you. Obviously.” Astarion rolled his eyes and readjusted his hold, returning to their sides. This time, he was squeezing them in an attempt to get a better grip. “And I’d have an easier time if you would hold still.” 

Tav choked on a giggle. They did the opposite of what he said and fidgeted some more. Suddenly, the impossible feat of getting themselves out on their own didn’t sound all that impossible. “Forget it, Astarion. I’ll d-do it myself..”

“Nonsense. Stop squirming, and I’ll pull you out.” 

“No, but-” 

Astarion’s fingers ghosted over their stomach, and they squeaked. He froze, and Tav felt their heart do somersaults in their chest. 

“What is the matter with you?” Astarion took his hands away from their belly, fingers resting just above their hips. The confusion was as clear as day in his voice. “You’re acting as if I’m hurting you.”

Tav remained quiet. They feared that they’d end up giggling if they spoke. 

“Tav? Am I hurting you?”

“...No.” Tav hesitated, shaking their head. They wracked their mind for a plausible explanation. “It’s just, uh, your hands. They’re cold.”

“Cold enough to feel through your clothing?” Astarion raised a brow, tone flat. “Odd. You haven’t told me that before..”

Tav didn’t even believe the tale they’d spun. “W-Well, they’re just that c—ah!” Tav squealed when he lightly pinched their hip. “Don’t do that!”

They went to smack at his hand, but hit one of the crates instead. Although they couldn’t see it, Astarion’s eyes brightened with mischief. 

“Oh, now I understand…” Astarion grinned a predatory grin, rolling his knuckles against their hip. Tav squirmed, biting down on their lip to trap the impending giggles. “You’re ticklish, aren’t you?”

“Noho!” The word alone sent butterflies in their stomach. They brought one of their hands up to their mouth, their other hand uselessly hitting the top of the crates. “Damn it Astarion, just pull me ouhuhut!”

“I’m trying, Tav, but you’re not making this easy for me.” Astarion shuffled closer to them, now using his thumbs to deliberately knead into their hips. Tav gasped and giggled into their hand, feet stomping into the dirt. “It’s impossible to get a good grip with you kicking around like this..”

“You’re nohoht trying!” Tav argued, bucking their hips as Astarion kept kneading into them. The ticklish sensations surged through them like electric shocks, and it was harder to suppress their frantic giggling. “Gah! S-Shihihit! When I get out of hehehehre, you’re dehehehad!”

“I’m already dead,” Astarion snorted. “But do tell me, what is so funny? Surely I am not tickling you?”

Tav growled in between their giggles. They giggled harder when he changed tactics and squeezed their hips again, again, and again. Both hands flew to their mouth to muffle their squeals. 

“Darling,” Astarion purred, “I need an answer.” 

“Gohoho to hehehell!” The dam broke, and Tav giggled freely. They twisted and bucked as much as their trapped position allowed, clawing at the crates. “Stohohohp it!”

“Stop what?” Astarion feigned confusion, nails skittering along their waistline. “I’m only trying to help, just as you asked! You’re stuck in here good, I’m afraid.”

“Nohoho! I’ll f-freehehee myself!” Tav sputtered as he dragged his nails up their belly. They shouted and shook their head back and forth, laughing loudly. “Let gOHOHOhahaha!”

“I can’t do that, dear. That would make me a terrible friend,” Astarion tutted. He stopped scritching at their belly, teasing their sides with featherlight strokes. “And, while I’m on the topic, do you know what else sours a friendship?”

Tav’s laughter died down to short, breathless giggles. Their cheeks were well beyond flushed, and they fidgeted in anticipation. “I—hah—don’t know... what?”

“Lying,” Astarion grinned and gently pinched just beneath their rib cage. Tav squealed and bucked. “For instance, pretending not to be delightfully ticklish when you very clearly are.”

Tav’s eyes widened, panic flashing across their face. “I’m—I'm nohot—”

“Ah-ah, there it is again.” Astarion double downed on his efforts, kneading one of his thumbs into the side of their belly. Tav shrieked and kicked their legs uselessly, falling back into another laughing fit. “You are an insolent little pup, aren’t you? Lying is one thing, but lying to a friend? Lying to me?” 

As if they weren’t already stuck enough, Astarion wrapped his free arm around their waist, making it much harder to squirm or kick. He continued tickling their stomach, alternating between gently scratching along their skin with his nails and kneading with his thumb. He moved at a leisurely pace, as if he had all the time in the world. And, truth be told, he did. Tav’s laughter took on a more desperate note, and they threw their head back. 

“NAHAHA! Alright! Okay! I’m sohohohorry!” Tav shouted and pounded their fist against the damned crates. They doubled over, or at least made an effort to, and squealed with laughter. “I’m sohohohohrry!”

“So you are,” he hummed. “And yet, I’m not fully convinced. You’ve already lied to me once. Who’s to say you aren’t doing it again?” He dropped to his knees, lazily raking his nails down the backs of their thighs. Tav shrieked and kicked around even more. 

“I’m nOHOHOHohohot! I’m not!!” Tav grit their teeth and giggled madly. They tried to lift their legs out of his reach, but he chased after them with minimal effort. “PLehehehehease! I’m nohoht lying!”

Astarion laughed. “You learn fast. It’s still a no, though. I’m just gutted that you would lie to me.” He pretended to sound sad while he spidered his nails along the backs of their knees. Tav howled, curling in on themselves as much as possible. “After all of the time we spent together! After I offered to help you..” 

Tav cackled when one of Astarion’s hands snuck back up to prod at their belly. He swirled his pointer finger in random patterns, scritching just shy of their hip bones, around their navel, and ending at their lowermost ribs. He did the same thing in reverse, eventually settling back on the ground to squeeze and tickle their knees and thighs. His fearless leader was a puddle of squeals and giggles, and that’s one crime he was happy to be guilty of. 

“I CAHAHAHN’T!” Tav went back to pounding their fists against the crates, eyes shining with tears. “Astarion, plehehehehehease!”

After what felt like forever, Astarion stopped tickling them. He gripped their hips and, with one firm pull, dislodged them from their trap. They fell back into him, and he held them up, still by their hips. “There you are, you’re free!” he snickered. “You’re welcome.”

Tav exhaled, shutting their eyes. They were coming down from the ticklish sensations, chest rising and falling from each breath they took. They were still smiling a bit, so what they said next had very little bite. “Bastard.”

“Careful,” Astarion tapped his fingers against their hips, and Tav lurched forward. “We wouldn’t want this little secret to slip to any of our friends, hm?” 

[eldritchpotato]

The Hunt

You’re running through the woods, doing your absolute best to escape from the creature hunting you. Unfortunately, you’re outmatched and the huntress has no intention of letting her prize get away.

Content Warning: female reader, primal play, alien smut, alien anatomy and rough sex.

Your heart is drumming in your chest. You know she is out there. The occasional click and growl. The rustling of branches. You can’t see her, not that sprinting through the woods as fast as your legs can carry you remotely helps with that, but that primal part of your lizard brain knows you're still being pursued.

You duck behind a tree, gasping for air as you try to compose yourself. You’re making so much noise, but your chest is spasming so much you couldn’t slow your breathing if you tried.

You can’t hear her footsteps, she’s too skilled for that. Peering around the tree you manage to make out the faint shimmer. Thank the heavens for the rain or you wouldn’t have a hope in hell of spotting her through her active camouflage.

Her form stops moving and you know you’ve been spotted. An amused thrill emerges from the massive shape before she rushes you. How something so big can move so fast you have no idea.

You scramble to your feet, slipping in the mud. Your clothes have been long since ruined but you have far bigger problems.

The tree behind you explodes, large invisible blades splintering the trunk. You would scream, but you still haven’t caught your breath.

There’s no point in turning to look behind you. If you could even see her you would just realize how utterly fucked you were.

Your only option is to keep going. At some point going down the hill becomes sliding, then tumbling. Banging against a rock and scratching yourself on a branch as you claw your way up the other side of the ditch.

All is silent. At least you can’t make out anything over your heavy breathing. You’re alone now, or at least you have a moment of respite. There’s no way she isn’t still watching you. She’s an expert hunter, a predator, your odds of escaping are virtually none. But you have to try.

A growl emerges from the woods around you. You spin on shaky legs, struggling to pinpoint the origin. You’re so slippery caked in mud, you can barely stay on your feet. Sure it helps to hide your heat signature but your exertion increases your body temperature far too much for it to be of any use.

Your own attempts to flee only make your position more obvious. A branch snaps above you, she’s in the trees. It’s enough to give away her position though.

You turn and run.

It’s easy enough to realize your mistake before you even can process why. The thing flies directly at you, your own panicked brain sending you right where she wanted you.

One moment you're turning, the next your legs are being pulled out from under you, the bola tying you up as you roll down the slope through the mud.

By the time the pain subsides and you manage to start to untangle yourself you hear her thump to the ground. Footprints appear in the mud as the invisible figure stalks towards you. The rain is blocked by the trees here but the occasional droplet makes her form spark into existence.

Crawling is futile, you’ll never get away without the use of your legs. But she’s towering over you before that could ever be an option. Her hulking figure appears. Her silver featureless mask, her writhing tendrils of hair, her toned and muscular body.

She reaches down and grabs you up by your jacket. Her other hand reaches up to unclasp her mask, her mandibles flare as she lets out a roar of triumph.

You’ve lost.

Tossing her mask to the side she picks you up with both arms, pinning you to the tree effortlessly. Her claws tear off your cheap clothing already long ruined by blood. You're covered in bumps and scratches, tomorrow you’re going to be extremely sore.

She’s saying something, without your translator you're at a disadvantage but you’ve spent enough time in her company to recognize the clicking gruff gloating of victory.

No reason to make it easy. Unfortunately, she knows you too well, your brief attempt at struggling doesn’t remotely budge her. When she slips her claws between your legs in response you can’t help but tense.

She laughs then, unbuckling her belt and tugging off the rest of her armour. With one arm less to keep you in place you can wiggle, not that it gets you very far, the tree bark digging into your back.

She clicks at you in warning before tugging you against her broad chest. The tentacles between her legs are already grasping at you, sucking to your thighs and trying to wiggle between your legs.

You kick at her, petulant more than anything. A large hand wraps around your throat, gently restricting airflow as she lets out a pleased growl.

She’s always liked this. She’s a hunter after all, what fun is it if the prey surrenders?

Whispering something in your ear you feel her forked tongue trail down your neck. She holds you with one arm and spreads your legs with the other.

You’re utterly soaked, as to be expected, but she would still be teasing you about it if she wasn't busy slipping her tentacles inside you. They sucker your bodies together and hold you in place as much as they can.

You know how sensitive they are, just like her hair tendrils. Unfortunately with your hands pinned you’re at her mercy and can hardly tease her.

You groan as they fill you up, wiggling deeper.

She lets out a purr, licking at your neck as she fucks you, her clit rubbing against yours.

The breath you had only started to recover is forced from your lungs. When her grip starts to falter she presses you against the tree, manhandling you so she can fuck you properly.

As whine leaves you as you clench around her, her tentacles never leave you though, only burrowing and wiggling even deeper, attaching you wide.

That would be enough to make you cum, but her heat sliding against you is just too much. You’ve never been particularly vocal, but she always manages to fuck you hard enough that you lose control of yourself.

Your fingers dig into her leathery skin, your cunt fluttering as your orgasm approaches. You can’t take it, too much to be pleasurable, too rough not to be painful. She’s using your body, claiming her reward.

But you’re cumming regardless, your muscles spasming, if she wasn’t pinning you against the tree you would have lost your grip. Your head falls back against the bark, your eyes tightly shut as you clench your teeth. Your vision has gone white, cumming so you can’t feel anything else, but she’s not done yet.

Your muscles can’t keep up anymore, too exhausted to not just clench down. Your gushing, drenching her tentacles and cunt as she keeps fucking you. You’ve lost any control of yourself, you can’t even breathe.

She howls, her crest slamming into the tree inches away from you as her mandibles nip at your shoulder. She cums, her weight crashing into you and nearly smothering you as she tenses. Her own wetness mixed with yours.

She’s got no eggs to fill you with at this time of year, not that you were a male that could fertilize them but that only makes it more fun. But quite honestly considering you’ve been cumming for a solid minute you think that might break you.

When she finally releases you she takes you into her arms rather than letting you slump to the middle ground. Cheap clothes are one thing, you’re far too precious.

“Fuck,” is all you can croak, your pussy still thrumming with overstimulation even as her tentacles gently and lovingly ease themselves out of you.

She presses a kiss to your forehead, her fangs ticking your foreheads. 

“F-hmm,” you groan.

She laughs weakly and gathers her things.

Your vision is still spinning as she carries you back to her ship. She’s going to spend the next week panicked about every scratch and bruise she gave you but it would be so worth it for this.

Weakly you promise yourself that next time you’ll manage to escape. Even if you know that definitely won’t be the case.

[cupidsworstcrime]

Simon x Johnny

mild smut after the cut

Soap is red-faced, drenched in sweat, and halfway through his fifteenth lap around the compound when Gaz leans over to Price and mutters, “What the hell did Johnny do this time?”

“Dunno,” Price replies, watching with a raised brow as Ghost, arms crossed, casually strolls alongside the track like he’s supervising a leisurely jog rather than a forced march toward death. “Whatever it was, Ghost is making him pay.”

They watch as Soap stumbles, hands on his knees, chest heaving like a war drum. Ghost doesn't even blink.

“Again,” he says flatly.

“Again?” Soap wheezes, looking ready to drop dead on the spot. “I’m gonna cough up a lung, LT—”

“You’ll be fine. You’ve got another six in you.”

Soap mutters something in Gaelic that sounds like a curse and starts jogging again.

Gaz winces. “You reckon he got caught sneaking off base? Or maybe he put hot sauce in Ghost’s tea again?”

“Could’ve flirted with the wrong person,” Price offers with a shrug. “Or maybe he forgot to clean his rifle.”

But later, when someone finally asks Ghost, expecting a grudge or some severe offense, he just shrugs.

“Lad’s understimulated. Been sittin’ pretty in debriefs and meetin's too long. Bouncin’ off the walls. M’givin’ him enrichment.”

“...Enrichment?”

“Like a dog,” Ghost adds, completely serious. “Gotta run him. Burn off the excess. Otherwise he starts chewin’ on cables or causin’ problems.”

He looks over at Johnny—now collapsed in the grass, still breathing but loudly swearing.

“See? Nice and calm.”

Later, when Soap's finally dragged back to their shared quarters, legs jelly and lungs still burning, he drops to the edge of the bed like a corpse.

“You tryna kill me, LT?” he mumbles, eyes fluttering closed. “Feel like I ran through hell.”

Ghost doesn’t answer right away. He’s methodical as ever, pulling the door shut behind him, locking it with a quiet click. His footsteps are heavy, deliberate. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and lazy, like a threat dressed up in velvet.

“Gotta earn your treats somehow, yeah?”

Soap cracks one eye open just in time to see Ghost drop to his knees between his thighs. His stomach clenches in anticipation.

“Wha’… ya serious?”

Ghost’s fingers curl around the waistband of Soap’s sweat-damp shorts and tug them down with practiced ease. “You were a good boy, Johnny. Did every lap. Didn’t whine too much.”

Soap lets out a breathy laugh, head dropping back. “You’ve got a real twisted idea of positive reinforcement.”

Ghost doesn’t argue. Doesn’t need to. Not when his mouth is already pressing slow, deliberate kisses along Johnny’s inner thigh. His hands are bruising, gripping Soap like he’s afraid he might vanish otherwise.

When his tongue finally slides over him, slick and unrelenting, Soap lets out a choked noise and grabs a fistful of Ghost’s hair. The bastard hums around him, like this is what he was after all along.

And maybe he was.

Because when Johnny starts to tremble again—more from pleasure now than exertion—Ghost pulls back, eyes dark, mouth wet.

“Still got energy, don’t you?” he murmurs, dragging Johnny down onto the mattress fully. “Guess I didn’t run you hard enough.”

“Jesus,” Soap breathes, body already arching up into him.

“Nope. Just Simon,” Ghost mutters, before swallowing him down again like a man starved.

[ginnysgraffiti]

thigh riding, dirty thoughts, 18+

(the idea is not mine)!!

TIMOTHÉE x yn.

your skirt raised up, bunching around your hips as you moved against timothée's thigh. even through your panties, you could feel how his thigh muscle was tense over your sweet spot, whimpering at how good that feeling felt.

you had never been a great adventurer or scout prodigy of the woods.

no, you hated insects, their bites and everything that had to do with it.

however, timmy insisted so much on taking you into the woods that you even sent the mosquitoes to hell.

the idea was nice: an evening in a tent, meat on the spit in front of the fire and time to admire the stars under the sky of a cool and quiet evening.

but no, no skewer of meat would have stopped timothée from taking what belonged to him, not even in the middle of the woods; and now the grip he exerted to crush you against the tree was so strong that his physical need went against your expectations of that innocent afternoon.

your boyfriend brought a hand to your waist, helping you with your movements. his other hand did not remain idle; it flowed slowly down your chest, touching your breasts.

"you're so cute." timmy admitted, his hoarse voice taking over. he was mesmerized by the sight of you using him to pleasure yourself, when both of you already got too much needy. the way your head fell back, the moans that continually escaped through your open mouth. his pants were getting tighter and tighter, the blood rushing south.

“i could watch you forever.”

groaning, you nodded in agreement.

“i could do this forever.”

already, your orgasm was near the surface, settling warm under your skin. you dropped your head onto his shoulder, shifting and crying out at the new angle. timothée groaned at your reaction, taking your hand away.

even with a clouded mind, you had the decency to help your boyfriend. you dragged your hand awkwardly away, unbuttoning his pants so you could grasp his hardness. a high pitched moan at your touch, hips bucking into your hand. in the movement that the thigh makes against you, the muscles now flexed even more.

you screamed and moved even faster, barely managing to continue the uncoordinated hand work. your boyfriend watched, stunned, as you reached your climax, hips bucking against him. his hands rested on your waist to stabilize you, helping you down and repressing his most indecent moans biting his tongue.

panting, you let your head fall onto his chest. he laughed lightly, though his hands remained on your hips. he used a strong grip to ease you, moving from his thigh to his cock, urging you to continue the movement. you gasped at the sensation, still sensitive there from having just come.

“i know you just did it with my thigh, but can you ride something else now, babe?”

[ficsandsmutandoneshotsohmy]

Damn It, Faith

WC: 981

Warnings: smut, getting caught, unedited, f!reader, use of Y/N, I don't think anything else

18+ MDNI

Her ankles were on his shoulders, his fingers, which were buried in her hair, tugged and forced her neck to arch back as his teeth nipped the sensitive skin there in synchronicity with each slam of his hips. She gasped over and over, each thrust causing the plump head of his cock to hit the sweet spot hidden in her walls and each nip adding just the right amount of pain to the ecstasy. 

He grunted with one particularly sharp thrust forward and she could feel his lips curl into a smug smirk when she made a noise very similar to his own, deep and low. She attempted to scowl at his smugness but another sharp thrust right into the spongy spot that had been so difficult for everyone but Will to find had her instead dropping her jaw open in pleasure. 

They were both so immersed, so lost in the pleasure of each other, that they failed to notice the sound of someone knocking on their front door, or the stack of missed calls lighting up the screen of Will’s phone. 

Both Will and Y/N were of a hypervigilant nature so it was rare for them to be so unaware, so lost in themselves that they forget the trauma and ghosts that haunted them and left them on edge at all times. In fact, the only time they found themselves not alert was when they were lost in each other. It was usually a good thing— a peace found that was usually out of reach, but today it would bite them in the ass. 

He grinned at her in a feral manner that rarely graced the face of gentlemanly Will Trent, one never seen and seemingly out of character for a man who carries a handkerchief— unless you were Y/N of course. It was a smile Y/N got to see regularly, one she held close to her heart and made her stomach clench. 

He moaned, pressing their foreheads together. “You’re doin’ so good for me, pretty girl.”

Y/N tried to reply but her brain was mush and tongue was numb so all she could do was let out a high pitched whine in reply, her eyes pinched tight. 

“Feel good, honey?” 

She nodded eagerly, forehead rubbing against his own and her eyes pinched tight as equally eager little noises escaped her with each powerful slap of his hips meeting her’s. 

“HOLY SHIT, WILL.” Faith’s loud, uncharacteristic screech was a shock to say the least, taking a moment to register in the couple’s minds. 

When it finally did, Y/N’s own horrified screech put Faith’s to shame as she yanked Will down on top of her with a force that made him grunt, the woman using his bare form as a modesty shield for her own. 

Faith was turned around in the doorway, back to them and heels of her hands pressed firmly against her eyes. 

“Damn it, Faith.” Will snapped out, accent thick with anger. He was breathing heavily and leaning on his forearms on either side of Y/N’s head, her entire face bright red and covered by her hands. “What the hell are you doin’ here?!” 

“We have a case, Trent.” She snapped back just as testily. Her and Will were as similar as they were different, and embarrassment manifested as anger in both the partners as was obvious in the way they were now scowling fiercely at each other.  Faith was seemingly no longer embarrassed by the… situation… she’d found the couple in. The blush had faded from her cheeks and she was no longer avoiding eye contact, arms crossed and face twisted in annoyance rather than discomfort.

“So you broke into my house?” He spit out, his heavy breathing and flushed face now due solely to anger rather than exertion. 

“I called you like 27 times, Will! And knocked on your door twice! I got concerned.” She huffed, rolling her eyes before her expression shifted to a kinder one as her eyes met Y/N’s from where she was peeking out over one of Will’s biceps. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“’S okay,” Y/N squeaked out before burrowing back into Will’s chest, face still a bright crimson. 

While Y/N might have pardoned Faith, Will Trent had most certainly not. He was too private of a person, and this violation felt too strong.

“Get the fuck out, Mitchell.” 

“Will!” Y/N admonished from her buried place of shame, but he didn’t reply. 

Faith rolled her eyes, used to his temper everytime she got a little closer to him, and simply huffed before leaving the bedroom, tossing a “We leave in ten minutes, Trent!” over her shoulder as she went. 

He growled lowly under his breath at her back before turning to duck down and place his forehead against Y/N’s once more. “You alright, sweet girl?” 

She nodded in reply, too horrified to even form a sensical sentence as her mind replayed the moment her Faith fucking Mitchell had seen Will balls deep inside her on an endless loop. She was going to have nightmares about this day… at least it wasn’t Amanda Wagnar. 

He huffed again, pulling back to press a kiss to her forehead as he finally pulled out from inside her. 

Oh god. He’d been inside her while talking to Mitchell. His ass had been out throughout that whole conversation. 

“I can never face Faith ever again.” 

He chuckled as he stood up and grabbed his suit for the day and began pulling his trousers on. “She’s the one who broke into our house… and then our bedroom,” he snapped out in an odd blend of humor and anger.

“Kill me now.” Y/N groaned as she rolled over, burying her face into a pillow hoping to smother herself and never have to face the light of day again.