#I guess coils used answers but I’m not counting that

[misedejem]

Its 6.2’s anniversary today which means Scream has been stuck in my head for an entire year

[undersugarnights]

A Flower Bud In Concrete

✦ MDNI — 18+ Only ✦

✧ pairing: ashton irwin x hemmings!reader

✧ summary: a surprising reaction to a negative pregnancy test has you and ashton discovering some new kinks.

✧ warnings: absolute filth be warned, heavy breeding kink, dirty talk, slight oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cum play, fingering, hair pulling, choking, mentions of COVID-19

✧ word count: 5.9k

✧ title: more — by Halsey

✧ author’s note: LAWD it’s about damn fucking time i write for ashton. the things i would let him do to me YOU DON’T GET IT. anyway this is absolutely the filthiest thing i have ever written and i love it. huge thank you to a special someone for helping me out with this — your filthy brain never ceases to amaze me. hope you guys enjoy some filthy quarantine (post?) smut with black haired ashton because i loved writing it.

also, this was inspired by @souperbloom and their AMAZING ashton blurb “island time” which you NEED to read.

Copyright © 2025 undersugarnights. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The word messy didn’t even begin to describe your life. It was almost comical, the way everything had derailed so quickly—like the universe had yanked the rug out from under you, leaving you to scramble in the aftermath.

Your mind spun as you sat in your car, staring at the unopened test on the passenger seat. The small box seemed to glare back at you, taunting you with the weight of fear it carried. Just looking at it made your stomach churn, flashes of a future you didn’t dare let yourself imagine creeping into your thoughts. You shoved them away just as quickly, refusing to let yourself hope for something that felt so far out of reach.

Your phone sat untouched on your lap, the weight of it somehow heavier than it should have been. You hadn’t even pulled out of the driveway yet, but the thought of what you were about to do made you want to retreat into the safety of your car forever. With shaky hands, you picked it up, your fingers hovering over the screen before you numbly dialed the number you dreaded.

Ashton, of course, didn’t take long to answer. He picked up on the second ring, his voice bright and cheerful as always. “Hey, Y/N,” he greeted, the smile in his tone almost palpable. “Didn’t think I’d hear from you today. You coming over? ‘Cause if so, I should probably clean—”

“You don’t have to clean up anything,” you interrupted, your voice sharper than you intended as you bit down on your bottom lip. You stared at your lap, the words you needed to say catching in your throat. Finally, you forced them out. “I have a test… I’m late. And, uh, I figured I should be with you when I figure out why.”

The other end of the line went silent, the lack of response from Ashton tightening the knot of stress already coiled in your chest. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, waiting, the quiet stretching unbearably.

“Does Luke know?” he asked at last, clearing his throat as if trying to sound casual.

You shut your eyes, frustration flaring at the mention of your little brother. “Why the hell would he know if he has no idea about us?”

“Right, right,” Ashton groaned, his tone sheepish. There was a pause before he continued, softer now. “Okay, well… I’ll see you soon, alright? You’ll take the test, and we’ll figure it out from there. Just like we always do.”

His voice was so kind, so gentle and reassuring that you could almost cry. “Okay,” you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper as you let out the breath you had been holding.

“Don’t sweat it, babe,” he reassured, the nickname falling off his lips without any hesitation. It sounded almost natural, and it definitely made your stomach tighten. “Everything will be fine.”

You frowned, looking out your window and taking in the relatively sunny day. “Yeah, I guess so,” you mumbled. “I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”

Ashton shifted in the other line. “Drive safe.”

The call hung up with a soft click after that, leaving you once again in anxious silence. You threw your head back against the seat, letting out a long, defeated sigh as your hands came up to grip the wheel.

You first met Ashton when he was just a scrawny kid with hair that swooped over his eyes—your little brother’s annoying friend. Despite being only a year older than him, his friendship with Luke made him feel much younger in your eyes.

When your acting career started taking off, you didn’t give Ashton—or anyone else from those days—much thought. At least, not until their cute little YouTube covers got discovered and their band skyrocketed to fame. Thanks to your close relationship with Luke, you began seeing more of his bandmates.

Ashton always lingered a little closer than the others, his nervous energy unmistakable. The rest of the boys treated you like their older sister—occasionally annoying, but familiar and comfortable. It was obvious Ashton’s feelings were different, but you never dwelled on it.

Not when you met Daniel. He was everything you thought you wanted—kind, charming, and effortlessly sweet. You’d been hesitant at first, unsure if your feelings would match his, but he quickly swept you off your feet.

For nearly five years, the two of you were happy together. Everyone in your life adored him—even Jack, who could be overbearing at times, warmed to him easily.

He was everything to you, his smile brighter than the sun itself. Daniel had shown you a new side of life, filling it with warmth and the promise of forever. But promises are fragile things, and eventually, he broke his—leaving you shattered and alone to gather the pieces of your broken heart.

As if that wasn’t enough, the world began to crumble around you. Whispers of a new illness dominated every conversation, and soon enough, isolation became your reality. Alone in your home, with no one for company but your own thoughts, you struggled to hold on. Work had slowed to a crawl, and seeing friends was too risky.

Ashton had always been the kind of person who would give you the shirt off his back without hesitation. His compassion extended to everyone in his orbit, always checking in to make sure they were okay. So when your phone lit up with his call, something inside you broke.

You poured your heart out, tears spilling as he listened to every word of your pain. He let you cry, soothing you with soft words and a patient ear. You felt terrible about it—he’d only been calling to check in out of kindness, not to become a makeshift therapist.

You apologized over and over, feeling guilty for taking up his time, insisting that what you really needed was professional help. But Ashton wouldn’t hear of it. He reassured you, his voice firm yet gentle, that it was no trouble at all. “I’m happy to listen,” he said. And you believed him.

That’s how it started—a strange kind of pen-pal relationship born out of quarantine. It became rare for you not to be on the phone with Ashton. What began as conversations about Daniel and your heartbreak gradually turned into something lighter. You talked about life, movies you’d seen, and the places you’d go when the world opened up again.

One night, during one of your usual calls, Ashton said something that made your breath hitch. His voice, normally so confident, was uncharacteristically shy.

“Yeah, so… basically,” he started, hesitating for a moment. “I only called you. At first, anyway. I was bored out of my mind, sitting in the house with nothing to do. And—I don’t know—I just found myself dialing your number. I’m glad I did.”

That confession had shifted something inside you. Ashton—who had always just been Ashton—suddenly became something else entirely. You started noticing the little things: the way his cheeks dimpled when he smiled, how a stray black curl would occasionally fall over his face, or the intense focus in his eyes when he drummed.

When restrictions eased, your friendship transitioned from FaceTime calls to in-person hangouts. Being around Ashton felt surprisingly effortless. He had a way of calming your nerves with a joke or a warm smile, and sometimes, you couldn’t help but notice how his touch lingered just a little longer than necessary.

One night, the two of you got carried away, talking late into the night.

“Shit,” you groaned, glancing at the time on your phone. “It’s so late.”

Ashton just smiled, shifting closer to you on the sofa. His eyes were red from the blunt you’d shared earlier, but they still sparkled with that familiar brightness. “So stay,” he said casually. “I don’t see why you should go.”

The thought of returning to your lonely house made your stomach sink. Staying with Ashton, basking in the warmth of his company, felt like the only right choice. But one thing was clear: if you stayed, if your eyes kept flicking to his lips, you would do something you might regret.

And you told him that.

Maybe it was the weed loosening your tongue, or maybe it was the way Ashton looked so unfairly good in his old muscle tee and shorts, but the words spilled out before you could stop them.

To your surprise, Ashton’s lips curved into a slow, teasing smirk. “What if I want you to?” he murmured, leaning impossibly closer. His hand lifted to your face, his fingers lightly tracing along your jaw and down your neck. His eyes never left yours, their intensity making your heart race.

So you gave into your innermost desires and kissed him. And he kissed you back.

The next thing you knew, you were a tangle of limbs on the carpet, the crackling fire casting shadows of your moving bodies across the room as muffled moans filled the space.

That’s how it started—how your unconventional relationship began. You’d made it clear from the beginning that you wanted to take things slow, unsure if moving on from Daniel so soon was the right decision. You and Ashton agreed to keep things casual for now, just hooking up and seeing where it led.

Another mutual decision was to keep your arrangement private—especially from Luke. Your little brother had always been harmless, and you weren’t worried he’d be angry about your relationship with Ashton. But you didn’t want to get his hopes up either. Luke would’ve been over the moon if he found out his best friend and his sister were together, so until you both were certain about where this was headed, Luke would remain in the dark.

For a few months, it worked seamlessly. Life had started to regain a semblance of normalcy as the year drew to a close. That was until your period decided to throw you a curveball.

The drive to Ashton’s place was filled with anxious thoughts and worst-case scenarios playing on a loop in your mind. By the time you pulled up to his house, your hands were clammy from gripping the steering wheel, and the box of pregnancy tests in your lap felt heavier than it should.

You rang the doorbell, clutching the box tightly as if it were a lifeline. Ashton took a few seconds to answer, but when he opened the door, his warm smile melted a fraction of your fear.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he greeted, pulling you in by the waist and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. His easy affection steadied you, if only for a moment.

“Hey, Ash,” you murmured, your voice barely audible against his lips. Pulling back slightly, you met his gaze, searching for any sign of unease or irritation. All you found was concern and affection in his hazel eyes.

Ashton frowned, his hand coming up to cradle your face. His thumb brushed gently across your cheekbone, and he gave you that signature reassuring smile. “Go take the test. Whatever it says, we’ll figure it out together.”

You let out a shaky breath, leaning forward to rest your head against his chest. For a moment, you allowed yourself to stay there, wrapped in the safety of his arms, wishing you could freeze time and keep the weight of reality at bay.

But you couldn’t hide forever. Reluctantly, you pulled back, giving him a weak, trembling smile. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

“I’ll see you on the other side, Y/N,” Ashton replied with a small nod, his voice steady as he let you go.

With your heart pounding, you walked to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You avoided your reflection in the mirror, unwilling to face the physical manifestation of your nerves.

Hands shaking, you unwrapped the first test and let out a deep, uneven sigh. The whole thing felt absurdly humiliating—peeing on a stick to determine the course of your future. In another situation, you might have laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.

But this wasn’t that kind of moment.

You capped the test and placed it on the sink, refusing to look at it as the seconds ticked by and the result formed. There was no use in dwelling on it, or stalling the results, so with a deep breath, you reached out and shakily grabbed the test.

Not pregnant.

The words were blunt and stark, staring back at you with an unrelenting certainty. Yet, a sudden surge of denial hit you. That couldn’t be possible, could it?

You had expected relief to come with those two words, but it didn’t. Instead, tears pricked at your eyes, and you slumped onto the closed toilet seat, unable to tear your gaze away from the test in your trembling hand.

How insane did you have to be to feel sad over a negative pregnancy test? The thought rattled in your mind as a quiet sob escaped your lips.

You had always wanted kids—or at least one. The idea of becoming a mother had been a dream you carried for as long as you could remember. It was a dream that had, in part, torn your relationship with Daniel to shreds. He had made it abundantly clear he didn’t want kids, especially not when you and he had faced a similar predicament.

But you did. You wanted one with everything in you.

Your chest tightened as you shut your eyes tightly, trying to push away the ache clawing at your heart. Maybe it was for the best, you told yourself. After all, you and Ashton hadn’t even defined the status of your relationship. You hadn’t dared to dream of having that kind of conversation, let alone one about kids.

Still, the weight of disappointment was unbearable as you wiped your face and mustered the strength to walk out of the bathroom. Ashton was standing a few feet away, leaning against the wall, nervously biting his nails.

His gaze snapped to you the moment you appeared, his body straightening as he pushed off the wall. He looked tense, his brows slightly furrowed, his hands fidgeting.

“Well?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly with the anxiety he was trying to mask.

You bit your lip, forcing yourself to keep any trace of emotion out of your voice. “I’m not pregnant,” you said evenly, squaring your shoulders as you met his eyes.

For a moment, Ashton’s expression softened, something flickering across his face that you couldn’t quite place. But then, to your utter surprise, you caught a glimpse of disappointment.

Your eyebrows shot up in shock as you instinctively crossed your arms over your chest, your protective wall snapping into place.

“Let’s have a kid,” Ashton breathed, the words tumbling out as if he hadn’t thought twice. His eyes locked onto yours, wide and earnest, his tone full of sincerity.

You drew in a sharp breath, blinking rapidly, your mind struggling to process what he’d just said. There was no way he could possibly mean it.

“Ashton,” you said incredulously, your tone laced with disbelief, “we just lost our shit thinking I might be pregnant. And besides”—your voice rose slightly as your confusion gave way to frustration—“we’re not even together. Not really.”

Ashton shook his head, closing the distance between you in a few determined strides. His hands cupped your face, his breath warm and slightly uneven. “We are now,” he murmured, an excited gleam lighting up his hazel eyes. “So let’s have a kid. You and me.”

For a moment, you were frozen, staring at him in stunned disbelief. This had to be some kind of sick joke. Who in their right mind would randomly decide to have a baby on a whim—especially with someone they were just casually hooking up with?

But then again, there had never been anything truly casual about you and Ashton. Not the way his touch lingered, how his kisses felt like promises, or how his presence made everything seem softer, lighter, easier. It had always been more than either of you admitted aloud.

His gaze stayed locked on yours, wide and earnest, as if begging you to say yes.

“You were freaking out,” you whispered, though the fight had already left your voice. Deep down, you were searching for any sign that Ashton might back out of this sudden decision, that he might have second thoughts.

Instead, he just shrugged, his lips curving into a soft, hopeful smile. “I was,” he admitted. “But then I started thinking—I love you, Y/N. I always have, and I always will. And even though this isn’t the most conventional way, I’d love to make something real with you. And that something?” His voice dropped, full of quiet conviction. “It definitely involves a baby.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your brows furrowing as you tried to process his words. Who in their right mind would agree to this?

Apparently, that someone was you.

“Okay,” you said, your voice soft but steady, a spark of excitement rising to the surface and chasing away your fear. “Let’s have a baby.”

Ashton’s face lit up with pure, unfiltered joy. He let out a triumphant whoop, his hands moving to your waist as he lifted you effortlessly, spinning you in the air. Laughter bubbled out of you, breathless and giddy, as the weight of uncertainty slipped away, replaced by something far more exhilarating.

“I love you too,” you mumbled breathlessly as Ashton set you down gently. You were still giddy, your mind flashing with images of your possible new future. Your hands came up to Ashton’s shoulders, watching him.

His hands lingered at your waist for a second, his eyes softening even more. His smile was radiant, lighting up the room, and he looked almost boyish. Your heart swelled in your chest as you looked at him.

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” you breathed, nervous laughter bubbling up inside you. “We’re really going to do this?”

Ashton laughed, leaning his forehead against yours. “We’re doing this,” he confirmed, his voice sure and steady. He brought his hand up to cup your face, his thumb briefly brushing over your bottom lip. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

A faint blush krept up your cheeks, the words lighting a fire inside you that was almost surprising in its intensity. You should have been scared, after all, your life was going to forever be altered, but it was exhilarating.

”What now?” you asked softly, your fingers absentmindedly brushing through Ashton's hair. The jet-black color suited him far more than you wanted to admit, and the sight of him like this-confident, certain, and utterly yours-sent a thrill down your spine. “Where do we even start?”

Ashton's eyes darkened, his lips curving into a devilish smirk as his gaze locked with yours. “We start by making that baby, of course,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. The playful elation in his tone had shifted, replaced by something deeper, more primal.

The heat in his voice sent a shiver racing through you, and you swallowed hard, excitement and nerves dancing in your chest.

Ashton didn't wait for you to respond. Instead, he closed the distance between you in a heartbeat, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

It was demanding and all-consuming, leaving no room for second-guessing. His arms tightened around your waist, holding you flush against him as his lips moved against yours with practiced skill. You melted into his touch, your hands threading into his hair, tugging just enough to elicit a low groan from him.

Ashton coaxed your lips open with teasing nips and soft bites, his tongue sweeping over yours, tasting you like he couldn't get enough. A muffled moan escaped you as you felt him lift you effortlessly, his grip firm but careful as he carried you through the room.

The world tilted slightly, and before you could process where he was taking you, your back met the cool surface of the kitchen counter. You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, smirking as your eyes met his. “The kitchen, Ash? Can't even wait until the bedroom?”

“Too far,” he murmured against your lips, his voice husky with need. “Need you now.”

Before you could respond, you heard the unmistakable sound of fabric tearing. Your jaw dropped as you looked down to see your shirt now hanging in shreds, the pieces slipping from your shoulders. “Ashton!” you gasped, half-laughing, half-scolding. “You ripped my shirt!”

He pulled back briefly, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. “It was mine first,” he said nonchalantly, his mouth returning to your neck to leave a trail of kisses. “You can steal another one later.”

You couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of you, though it quickly turned into a sharp gasp when his lips found that sensitive spot just below your ear, making your breath hitch. His hands roamed your body freely, sliding up your back to unclasp your bra with practiced ease.

When his calloused hands cupped your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze, a soft groan escaped your lips. Ashton took it as encouragement, his fingers teasing your nipple. His mouth followed soon after, trailing hot kisses down your chest before capturing your nipple between his lips.

Your head fell back as he gently nipped at it with his teeth, a moan spilling from you.

Meanwhile, his other hand began its slow descent down your stomach, stopping at the waistband of your shorts. “God, you're gonna look so pretty, all full of my cum,” he growled against your skin, tugging the fabric of your shorts down your legs.

Ashton's mouth continued its heated journey down your body, every inch of you humming with anticipation. The thought of him finishing inside you sent a thrill through you that you couldn't deny, and as he kissed along your stomach, pausing at your hip bone, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him.

When he looked up, his hazel eyes were dark and glassy with lust. His teeth caught the edge of your underwear, and you let out a soft gasp as he began to pull them down, agonizingly slow.

Ashton let your underwear fall to the floor, his hands gentle as he spread your thighs apart. His lips parted slightly as he took in the sight of you, laid out on the kitchen counter, wet and glistening just for him. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, quickly yanking off his sweater and tossing it somewhere in the room without a second thought.

His hands slid up your thighs with deliberate slowness, his touch sending shivers through your body. He traced a single finger along your folds, biting his lip as he collected your arousal. “You're so pretty for me,” he murmured, voice husky. “Such a pretty pussy.”

When his finger slipped inside you, a sharp gasp escaped your lips, and your back arched off the counter instinctively. Heat flooded through you as he added a second finger, curling them just right, finding that spot inside you with practiced precision. A loud moan spilled from your throat, your body trembling under his touch.

His lips found your neck, sucking and biting the sensitive skin, marking you without hesitation. “Since we're telling everyone we're together now,” he murmured between kisses, his breath hot against your skin, “I'm gonna make sure they know. You're mine.”

“I'm yours,” you whimpered, your voice breathless and needy as his fingers sped up, your legs shaking with the intensity of it all. If he kept this up, you wouldn't last much longer.

Ashton hummed in satisfaction, his lips curving into a smile against your neck.“That's right, baby. You're mine. Gonna fill you up to the brim, put a baby inside you. Isn't that right, pretty?”

You nodded frantically, tugging at his hair for something to ground yourself. His words only spurred you on, the heat in your core building to a fever pitch. But just as you were about to tip over the edge, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and desperate.

A frustrated whine escaped your lips as you propped yourself up on your elbows, ready to protest. But your words died in your throat when you saw Ashton hastily kicking off his jeans.

When he pulled down his black boxers, freeing himself, your eyes widened. You had been with Ashton countless times, but he had never looked so painfully hard. His cock stood thick and ready, the tip an angry shade of red, glistening with his own arousal.

Before you could fully process the sight before you, Ashton's hands were on your hips, pulling you off the counter. He gave you no chance to protest, spinning you around and bending you over the cold surface.

“You're gonna take all of me,” Ashton growled, his voice low and commanding as he lined himself up with you. “And you're gonna love every second of it. Be a good girl for me. Good girls get my cum.”

Your eyes fluttered shut, and your hands gripped the edge of the counter so hard your knuckles turned white. “I’ll be a good girl,” you gasped, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, Ash. I want you to fill me up. Please.”

A smirk played on his lips as his hand slid around your waist and down between your legs, his fingers expertly teasing your clit.

The sensation sent shockwaves through you, making your knees buckle slightly. Your moans grew louder as Ashton ran the tip of his cock along your entrance, the teasing driving you to the brink.

“Beg for it, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice dripping with dominance, his fingers working you mercilessly. Every nerve in your body was alight, your need for him consuming every thought.

“Please,” you cried, your voice breaking into a small sob. “I need you, Ash. Fill me up, stretch me out, put a baby in me—please, I'm begging you.”

Ashton groaned low in his throat at your words, his control slipping as he finally pushed into you, slow and deliberate. “That's my good girl,” he rasped, his grip on your waist tightening as he buried himself inside you inch by inch. “And you're gonna take every single bit of me, aren't you?”

The stretch of Ashton finally filling you up was overwhelming, nearly enough to tip you over the edge instantly. You didn't know how you'd gotten so worked up, but as he buried himself to the hilt, the sensation was so intense tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you whimpered, your voice trembling. Ashton's hand trailed up your back, settling around the back of your neck, his grip firm but not overwhelming.

“Yeah? You like being stretched out like this?” he rasped, his voice thick with arousal, his hips unmoving as he stayed buried deep. “You're so fucking tight, baby. You feel so good wrapped around me. I'm gonna come so hard for you, so deep.”

A soft whimper escaped your lips, your frustration building as Ashton still refused to move. His free hand roamed down your body, squeezing your hip before pulling back and landing a sharp slap on your ass.

The sting sent a jolt through your body, making you clench around him involuntarily. Ashton groaned low in his throat, the sound deep and guttural. “God, I wish you could see yourself right now,” he muttered, smirking as he delivered another sharp smack to your ass. This time, the moan that escaped you was loud and unrestrained. “So pretty, bent over a counter for me, taking me so well.”

You nodded eagerly, your eyes squeezed shut, every nerve in your body focused on the feeling of Ashton filling you. “You're so warm,” he groaned, his hips shifting just slightly. “I need to hear you. Every gasp, every moan— want it all. If you hold back from me, baby, you'll regret it. Got it?”

The threat sent a shiver down your spine. His earlier promise not to finish inside you if you misbehaved hung heavy in your mind, the thought alone making your chest tighten with desperation. “Fuck me,” you begged, your voice shaky and whiny. “Please, Ash, just move already.”

Ashton let out a low chuckle, dark and taunting. “So needy, aren't you, sweetheart?” he teased, his words dripping with smug amusement. Before you could respond, he pulled out of you slowly, the sensation drawing a loud moan from your lips.

“Don't whine,” he chided, his tone sharp but playful. “You're gonna take what I give you.”

But mercifully, Ashton seemed to decide your torture had gone on long enough. On his next thrust, he pulled out almost completely before slamming back into you, the sudden force stealing the air from your lungs. A yelp tore from your throat as his hand tightened in your hair, pulling your head back slightly.

Ashton set a punishing rhythm, his hips slapping against yours with every thrust. The lewd sound of your bodies colliding filled the room, mingling with your loud, uncontrollable moans. The delicious friction he created with each movement made your legs shake, the intensity overwhelming.

“That's it, good girl,” Ashton purred, his voice dripping with approval. “You take me so well. Can't wait till you're all round and pretty for me,”he murmured, his thrusts growing harder, more deliberate. “All mine. My perfect little cum slut.”

The possessive tone in his voice made your entire body shudder. His hand tugged at your hair again, pulling you upright and flush against his chest. His other hand slid up to knead your breasts, his fingers tweaking and teasing your nipples as he continued to thrust into you relentlessly.

One hand slowly slid up to your neck, wrapping around it gently before applying just enough pressure to make your head spin. The dizziness only heightened the pleasure coursing through you, amplifying every sensation.

But Ashton didn't hold for long. His hand eased away, and your hearing slowly returned as you gasped for breath. He released your nipple and pushed you back down onto the counter, his voice low and rough. “So fucking perfect,” he groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair again, using it for leverage as he pounded into you harder.

The heat of his movements, his filthy words, and the way he dominated every inch of your body brought you closer and closer to the edge. Your moans and whimpers grew louder, each pull of his hand in your hair sending a delicious mixture of pain and pleasure rippling through you.

“Baby, I'm close—” you choked out, your voice breaking with need.

“Yeah?” Ashton rasped, his hips never losing their relentless rhythm. One hand slid between your legs, finding your clit and teasing it with quick, precise circles. The intensity made your breath hitch, and he leaned in, his voice dark and commanding. “Come for me, baby. Show me how good I make you feel. Show me how much you love my cock.”

You couldn't hold back. Between his unforgiving thrusts, his dirty words, and the way his fingers worked you with expert precision, the pressure inside you finally snapped. A loud cry tore from your throat as you came, your entire body trembling violently with the force of your release.

Ashton's lips brushed your ear as you shook beneath him. “Just like that, sweetheart,” he murmured, his fingers never faltering even as your body slowly began to come down from its high.

“Ashton,” you gasped, your legs trembling uncontrollably. “Fill me up, baby. Please— need your cum.”

His breathing was ragged, his pace becoming erratic as he chased his own release. “I'm close, baby,” he groaned, his hand slipping away from your clit to grip your hips tightly. His movements grew sloppy, and he buried himself deeper with each thrust. “I'm gonna come so deep inside you. Gonna fill you up, make you mine, put a baby in you.”

It didn't take long before Ashton's rhythm faltered, and he let out a broken whimper of your name. His body shuddered as he spilled into you, the warmth of him flooding your core just as he'd promised. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he rode out the waves of his orgasm, each twitch of his cock making you moan softly.

For a moment, the two of you stood there, completely still except for your heaving breaths. The only sound filling the kitchen was the ragged symphony of your labored gasps. Your body felt boneless, leaning heavily against the counter to stay upright.

Ashton pressed soft kisses along your shoulder blades, his warm breath fanning your damp skin and making you shiver. “You’re gonna look so hot as a mum,” he teased with a lazy smirk, slowly pulling out of you.

You whined at the sudden emptiness, the loss of him leaving you aching. Before you could protest, Ashton turned you around and lifted you onto the counter. The cold marble against your bare skin sent a jolt through your body as he gently spread your legs wide.

His eyes glittered as he took in the sight of his release dripping from your core. “Can't let any of this go to waste,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

With deliberate care, he slid a finger along your sensitive clit, making you gasp sharply. Then, without hesitation, he pushed a finger inside, catching the white ribbons threatening to spill out and gently pressing them back into you.

The overstimulation had your legs shaking again, and you propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him work with hooded eyes. Every touch sent sparks shooting through you, and the satisfaction on his face as he ensured none of his release escaped made you ache for him all over again.

Ashton knelt before you, his hazel eyes locking onto yours with a mischievous glint before he leaned in, running a slow, deliberate stripe along your core with his tongue. His movements were unhurried, carefully cleaning you up without disturbing the evidence of his release too much. He only lapped up the small traces that had escaped, trailing down your thighs.

When he was satisfied, he pulled back, the soft sound of his lips parting making you shiver. Rising to his full height, he grinned widely, his expression smug and satisfied. You returned his smile with a lazy one of your own, reaching up to tug him down into a soft, lingering kiss.

“I love you,” you murmured against his lips, your voice tender. “And this was... definitely fun.”

Ashton pulled away just enough to meet your gaze, his grin morphing into a playful smirk. “I love you,” he began, his tone laced with mischief, “and about that…”

His hand slipped down between his legs, stroking his still semi-hard cock until it stood at full attention once again. Your breath hitched as you watched him, speechless, as he lined himself up with you once more. With an achingly slow push, he slid back inside you, making both of you groan at the sensation.

Your arms gave out beneath you, leaving you fully leaning against the counter. “Gotta make sure it all stays in there,” Ashton murmured, his voice low and strained. His hips rolled gently, his eyes fixed on where your bodies joined. “Give me a few, and we'll go again. Maybe even one more time after that.”

A soft laugh escaped you, the movement causing your walls to flutter around him.

Ashton let out a deep groan at the sensation, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice breathy but teasing. “We can do this as much as you want.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

hope u enjoyed u nasty freaks. my requests are closed atm but my inbox is open if you wanna chat :)

[ialreadymadeyouapromise]

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒.

PAIRING: daryl dixon x fem!reader WARNINGS: misunderstandings, no use of y/n GENRE: angst, comfort (at end) SONG INSPIRATION: lovers - anna of the north WORD COUNT: 1.2k

navigation | inbox | daryl dixon masterlist

daryl had been an enigma from the moment he set foot in alexandria. he wasn’t like the others. he was rough around the edges, always carrying himself as if he was waiting for something to go wrong. and maybe he was. 

the world now didn’t allow for true safety, and he knew that better than most.

but that didn’t stop you from watching him.

you had liked him from the beginning, from the moment you saw him peering in through the window at deanna’s party. you’d cornered him that night, half amused, half intrigued.

“you know, you could just come inside,” you had teased, leaning against the doorway. “or are you afraid you’ll turn into a respectable member of society if you step over the threshold?”

daryl had huffed out a short, reluctant laugh, his eyes flicking toward you before darting away. “ain’t really my kinda thing.”

“oh, i never would’ve guessed,” you shot back, smirking. “you’re blending in so well.”

that made him snort, shaking his head. he had started to turn away, but something about the way he lingered told you that he wasn’t entirely opposed to the conversation.

so, you pushed a little more.

“well, if you change your mind, i’ll be inside,” you had said, tapping the doorframe lightly. “near the bar. you know, just in case you suddenly develop a taste for civilization.”

daryl had glanced at you again, something unreadable in his expression. then, with a small shake of his head, he walked off.

and that was where it started.

you started finding excuses to see him. 

at first, it was small things. bringing him something from the pantry after a run, offering to patch up scrapes from the road.

daryl wasn’t easy to get close to, but you were nothing if not persistent.

and eventually, it worked.

it started with short conversations, nothing deep, just little things. you’d tease him about how he always disappears whenever a group gathering got too lively.

“you know, i’m starting to think you might be allergic to fun.”

daryl would just roll his eyes, scoffing. “ain’t got time for all that.”

“oh, come on,” you’d prod, smirking. “not even a little?”

“i’m here, ain’t i?” he’d grumble.

you never pushed him too much, never asked for more than he was willing to give. and slowly, bit by bit, he let his guard down.

somewhere along the way, things shifted.

late nights spent sitting together on porches turned into nights in your bed. 

at first, it was just a stolen moment, a hesitant kiss that he didn’t pull away from. then another. and another. before long, he was in your bed more often than not, hands roaming over your skin, lips pressing bruises into your neck, giving you everything he had in the dark.

but in the morning, he’d always leave.

you tried to ignore it. tried to convince yourself that this was enough, that you could deal with him slipping out before the sun came up, that you could pretend this was casual.

one night, you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

you lay beside him, your head resting against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. it was late, the world outside quiet, but you could feel the tension in him. the way his muscles had started to coil again, like he was already preparing to go.

and suddenly, you couldn’t stop yourself.

“why do you always leave?”

the question came out softer than you intended, but it made daryl tense beneath you. his hand, which had been resting lightly against your back, withdrew.

you lifted your head, searching his face. “daryl?”

he let out a quiet breath, staring up at the ceiling. “ain’t about leavin’.”

“then what is it about?”

he didn’t answer right away. instead, he sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, running a hand through his hair. he didn’t look at you.

something inside you twisted painfully.

“daryl,” you tried again, voice quieter now. “what are we doing?”

still, he said nothing.

the silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. you waited, giving him time to find the words, but when too much time passed, you realised, he wasn’t going to.

and that hurt more than anything.

you swallowed hard, forcing back the lump rising in your throat. “you know what?” you let out a soft, humorless laugh, shaking your head. “forget it.”

daryl glanced at you then, something like regret flickering in his eyes, but he still didn’t speak.

you turned over, pulling the blanket up, facing away from him. you didn’t want him to see the tears that had started to fall. you didn’t want him to see how much this was breaking you.

because that meant it mattered. and if it mattered to you, but not to him…

you squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to breathe.

behind you, you heard him stand. the soft shuffle of his boots, the creak of the door. and then he was gone.

you tried to move on after that.

you told yourself it didn’t matter, that you should’ve expected it. that you should’ve known better than to hope for something real.

but daryl didn’t let you move on.

he kept coming back around, showing up at your door like he had something to say but always talking around it.

finally, after days of this, you’d had enough.

you met him at the door, arms crossed, your heart aching with every beat. “what do you want, daryl?”

he shifted uncomfortably, glancing away. “i–” he cut himself off, running a hand over the back of his neck. “i dunno.”

you huffed a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “you don’t know?”

“i ain’t good at this,” he muttered. “ain’t never been.”

“yeah,” you said, voice tight. “i noticed.”

the silence between you was suffocating. you didn’t know what he wanted from you, why he kept showing up when he had made it so clear that you weren’t worth staying for.

“i just…” he trailed off, exhaling sharply, frustrated with himself. “ain’t never felt like this before.”

that stopped you cold.

your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, trying to process what he had just said. “what?”

“i–” he sighed, rubbing at his face. “i ain’t never had somethin’ like this. like you.”

you opened your mouth, then closed it.

daryl shifted on his feet, looking more vulnerable than you had ever seen him. “ain’t that i don’t want it,” he admitted. “just… don’t know how.”

your heart ached at the raw honesty in his voice.

for so long, you had convinced yourself that you weren’t enough for him, that he didn’t care the way you did. but now, looking at him, hearing him struggle through the words…

it wasn’t that he didn’t care. it was that he cared too much.

you swallowed hard, taking a step closer. “you could’ve just told me that.”

he let out a soft huff, almost a laugh, shaking his head. “ain’t that easy.”

you searched his face, saw the way his jaw clenched, the way his fingers twitched at his sides like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t know if he should.

“maybe it could be,” you murmured.

daryl hesitated. then, after a beat, he nodded. “yeah.”

it was quiet between you, the weight of the moment pressing down. and then, slowly, hesitantly, he took that last step forward, 

closing the space between you.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ᯓ★

© ialreadymadeyouapromise 2025.

[justacosplayerlol]

Wanna guess the ending?(if it ever does)

>Bob & Void Fanfic

> CW: suicidal ideation, self-harm (non-graphic), internalized self-hatred, dissociation, isolation, disordered eating (implied)

>Word count: 1.4k

>Author’s note: Haii:3 this is my first fanfic posted to tumblr ! this fanfic was originally posted to ao3 here. if you or someone you know is struggling with mental health, don’t be afraid to reach out. help is available and you don’t need to struggle alone. call or text the national suicide prevention hotline

the room is dim. not dark. not light. just that grey space in between where shadows don’t stretch, and sunlight doesn’t bother trying to reach. the kind of quiet that buzzes in the ears after the world has gone still, not peaceful silence, but the kind that feels like it’s pressing down on your chest. oppressive. heavy. too much and not enough, all at once.

bob sits on the floor. legs crossed, back against the cold wall, one hand loosely holding onto the hem of his shirt like it might anchor him if he starts to float too far from himself. his eyes are fixed on a crack in the floorboards. or maybe he’s not looking at anything. maybe he’s just… gone again. somewhere deep. somewhere hollow.

his hair’s a mess. stubble growing in patches. dark circles under his eyes like bruises, like he’s been fighting something in his sleep and losing. it’s been— what? a day? two? maybe more. it all blurs together when the fog sets in like this.

the clocks tick but the minutes don’t move. he hasn’t eaten. the last thing he remembers is standing in the kitchen with the fridge door open, staring into the white light like it might offer answers. it didn’t.

his chest rises. falls. slow. almost mechanical. it’s the only thing reminding him he’s still here. still in his body. still alive.

and then—

“pathetic.”

the word slices through the stillness like a blade to skin. bob doesn’t flinch. doesn’t look up. he just blinks, once, like he was expecting it.

“look at you. a goddamn wreck. you think this is recovery? this—this rot? you’re wasting time. wasting breath. wasting space.”

his fingers twitch. he closes his eyes. tries to breathe slower, like maybe he can outpace it. drown it out.

he whispers,

“don’t.”

“don’t what? tell you the truth? come on, bob. you need me. i’m the only one who says what you won’t.”

the voice isn't coming from anywhere. not really. it’s not the walls. not the ceiling. it’s inside him. deep. coiled around his spine like a parasite that’s been there since he was old enough to understand shame.

“you think you’re some tragic little survivor story? no one wants to hear it. they’re tired of your sob story. tired of waiting for you to stop being like this.”

his hands press to his temples. rub hard like he could scrub the voice out, or crack his skull open and let it out like smoke. but it’s no use. it never is. void doesn’t leave. it just waits. watches. digs its claws in deeper when he’s vulnerable.

“they’d be better off without you. admit it. you’ve thought about it. just walking away. vanishing. no notes. no goodbyes. not like anyone would chase you. not really.”

and that’s the worst part.

he has thought about it. more times than he can count. not death, exactly — not the finality of it. but the idea of just... disappearing. ceasing to be a problem. letting the world breathe a little easier without him taking up space in it.

he curls in tighter. forehead to knees. every breath feels heavier now. like it takes effort just to keep his lungs moving. he’s exhausted, not from doing anything, but from existing. from thinking. from feeling this way for so long without a break.

“remember when you used to fight back? now you just let it happen. let me in. maybe you’re starting to see the truth, huh? maybe you’re finally getting honest with yourself.”

his voice is a rasp, raw from disuse.

“i hate you.”

“no, you don’t. you hate you. i’m just the echo. you created me. i’m your shadow. i don’t say anything you haven’t already thought.”

he chokes on air. maybe a sob. maybe just the weight of those words settling on his chest. he presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, hard enough to see stars. he wants it to stop. just for a second. he wants quiet. real quiet. not this twisted, venom-dripping version that lives inside his skull.

but the room offers no mercy. it never does.

he stays like that—folded in on himself, stuck somewhere between now and never—for what could be minutes or hours. it’s hard to tell. the voice quiets, eventually. not out of kindness. just boredom. like it knows it’s already won today.*

and bob?

he’s still here. still breathing. still trying, in the smallest, slowest way possible. and maybe that counts for something. maybe not.

but for now, it’s all he’s got.

the room hasn’t changed. still dim. still silent. still suffocating. the kind of silence that isn't empty — it's crowded; full of echoes, thoughts that crawl up the walls, cling to the ceiling like mold.

bob hasn't moved much. maybe shifted once. stretched his legs. pulled them back in. his body aches, not from action, but from stillness. from existing. it’s starting to feel like punishment.

he hasn't said anything since the last time. the words got stuck somewhere between his chest and his throat and never quite made it out. they’re still there. like stones in his mouth.

but void…

“you’re still here?”

“damn. persistent little thing, aren’t you?”

“fine. let’s really talk, then.”

it’s colder now. he’s not sure if the temperature’s dropped or if it’s just him, slipping further into that place where nothing feels real. he wraps his arms around himself like a shield, but it doesn’t help. the voice isn’t on the outside.

”you remember what it felt like? before all this? when you still believed people could save you? what a joke. you were never built for happiness, bob. not with this mind. not with that thing in your chest pretending to be a heart.”

he digs his nails into his arms. sharp. deliberate. just enough to remind himself he’s still here. still tethered. the sting cuts through the numbness like lightning through fog. but it fades too quickly.

his voice is hoarse when it finally comes out, quiet and broken:

“please… stop.”

”no. i’m all you have. you don’t get to shut me out now. not when i’ve been the only one who’s stayed. everyone else leaves. i don’t.”

there’s a weight to the words now. heavier than before. like void is no longer just mocking him — it’s laying claim to him. staking territory in his mind like a parasite that’s grown too large to ignore.

“let’s face it: you’re not gonna get better. you’ve tried, haven’t you? therapy. meds. fake smiles. long showers. long walks. journaling. screaming into pillows. telling yourself you’re okay when you’re not. you’re still here. and i’m still louder than everything else.”

bob swallows hard. the truth hurts more than the voice itself. he has tried. god, he’s tried. but some nights—like this one—it all feels useless. like he’s bailing water from a sinking ship with his bare hands.

“no one’s coming. no cavalry. no rescue. you could disappear right now and no one would know until you started to rot.”

bob presses his palms to the floor, grounding himself. the hardwood is cold. real. but even that’s not enough. he’s unraveling. thought by thought. breath by breath.

and then— the voice lowers. not loud now. not cruel. worse.

soft. sweet. like a razor blade wrapped in silk.

“you could end it, you know. quiet. clean. no more weight. no more pretending. just peace. imagine it. the silence… but real this time.”

his heart skips. not in fear—in recognition. like something in him has been waiting to hear it said aloud.

he bites down on his bottom lip so hard it splits. the copper taste of blood rushes across his tongue. he focuses on that. anything but that voice.

but it doesn’t stop.

“you don’t have to suffer. not anymore. you’ve done enough. hurt enough. been hurt enough. you don’t even have to leave a note. just… fade.”

his body is trembling now. knees pulled back in tight, his nails digging half-moons into his skin. he whispers something, again and again, like a mantra. like a prayer.

“no. no. no. no. no…

and void—

“you will. maybe not tonight. but soon. and i’ll be there. i always am.”

then silence.

real silence.

the kind that leaves him alone with the damage.

and bob?

he doesn’t move. doesn’t cry. just breathes. shaky. shallow. but still breathing. because there’s a part of him—somewhere, small and buried—that still wants to fight. not tonight. maybe not tomorrow. but soon.

he just has to survive this hour.

this voice.

this night.

[anythinggoesbutme]

When Ghosts Wear Familiar Faces

Grayson Hawthorne x Lyra Kane

Warnings: Canon-typical emotional conflict, jealousy, past relationship tension, unresolved history, painter!mattias, lyra dating artsy men, possessive!grayson

Synopsis: A visit to an art gala brings Lyra face-to-face with someone from her past—Mattias Slater. Grayson never liked him, and now he has every reason not to.

Song: “Love Like Ghosts” — Lord Huron

Word Count: 1,166

Lyra hadn’t thought of Mattias Slater in years.

At least, that was the lie she told herself as she adjusted the strap of her dress in the mirror, her lipstick just a shade too careful, her curls pinned with more intention than she wanted to admit. Grayson’s reflection stood behind her, tall and watchful, buttoning his cufflinks with the kind of elegance that made her heart skip.

He didn’t know. Not everything.

The invitation had arrived a week ago.

“Slater & Co. Visual Showcase: Curated Artists and Collaborative Perspectives.”

The name was familiar, heavy. Her stomach had dropped when she saw it, but she’d tucked the reaction away.

Grayson had caught the flicker of something in her face and asked, “Old friend?”

“Not exactly,” she’d said, breezy.

He let it go. But Grayson never really let anything go.

The gallery was housed in a renovated textile mill, with high ceilings and exposed brick, a contradiction of elegance and edge. Spotlights danced off modern sculptures and oil paintings that made you feel both seen and unsettled. Lyra scanned the crowd, feigning casual interest.

Grayson’s hand rested lightly at the small of her back. Protective. Possessive, maybe. She wasn’t sure which one comforted her more.

He leaned in. “You’ve been quiet.”

“I’m just taking it in.”

“You know this place feels like a front,” he murmured.

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Aren’t all galleries?”

“No. Some of them are honest about their pretension.”

He was trying to make her laugh. She appreciated the effort, even if her chest felt like it was wrapped in glass.

Then she saw him.

Mattias Slater stood across the room, surrounded by a halo of admirers. He hadn’t changed—still sharp cheekbones and messy confidence, still dressed like he’d stolen his wardrobe from a catalog and made it look better. He was laughing at something, head thrown back in a way that used to make her feel like the only person in the world.

Now it made her stomach twist.

Grayson followed her gaze, and she felt the shift in him like a ripple of static down her spine.

“That’s him, isn’t it?” he said softly.

She didn’t answer.

Grayson’s jaw clenched. “You dated Mattias Slater.”

“It wasn’t serious.”

“Bullshit.”

Lyra turned to him. “I didn’t lie to you.”

“No, you just didn’t tell me.” He took a step back. “Big difference.”

Mattias spotted them. Lyra didn’t miss the way his expression changed—like the wind had shifted in his favor. He crossed the room with deliberate grace.

“Lyra,” he said, voice low and warm like memory. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

She forced a smile. “Mattias.”

Grayson didn’t offer his hand. “Slater.”

Mattias’s eyes gleamed with something close to delight. “Hawthorne. I heard you were the serious type.”

“I’m serious about the people I care about.”

Lyra stepped slightly between them, tension coiled in her shoulders. “We were just leaving—”

Mattias held up a hand. “Actually, I was hoping you’d stay. There’s a piece I want you to see.” He looked at her. “It’s yours.”

Grayson’s voice was a blade. “What did you just say?”

Mattias smiled. “Not literally. But it was inspired by—well. You’d know.”

Lyra’s skin went cold. “Mattias—”

“You never saw it. I started it after Paris. Finished it after you left.”

The words hit her like ice water. Grayson looked between them, fury held just beneath his skin. “He painted you?”

“It’s not like that—”

“Oh, forgive me, it sounds exactly like that.”

“Grayson—”

Mattias raised a brow. “Still reactive, huh? I always wondered what kind of man you’d end up with, Lyra. Never guessed you’d go for one with a trust fund and a savior complex.”

Grayson stepped forward, dangerous now. “You want to say that again?”

“I think you heard me just fine.”

People were starting to watch.

Lyra gripped Grayson’s arm. “Stop.”

Mattias tilted his head. “Unless you’re worried I’m right.”

“I said stop.” Her voice cracked like a whip.

Both men froze.

“I didn’t come here for this,” she said. “I came to see art, not relive mistakes.”

Mattias’s gaze softened. “You weren’t a mistake.”

She shook her head. “But you were.”

Grayson didn’t say anything until they were outside.

The night air was cool, sharp with the distant scent of city traffic and spring rain. They stood in the alley beside the gallery, the weight of the moment pressing down on them.

“I didn’t know he’d be there,” Lyra said quietly.

“You didn’t think he might be? His name was on the goddamn invite.”

“I didn’t go to see him. I just—I wanted to see what he’d done. From a distance.”

Grayson’s laugh was bitter. “He didn’t keep you at a distance.”

“That wasn’t my fault.”

“I didn’t say it was. I’m just trying to understand how you ever looked at him and thought it made sense.”

She turned sharply. “What do you want me to say? That I was stupid? That I let someone charming and complicated pull me into something that never made sense and hurt me more than I’ll ever admit?”

Grayson said nothing.

“Fine,” she said, quieter. “I’ll say it. Mattias was beautiful and brilliant and selfish. He made me feel like I was art one moment and a smudge the next. And I let it go on for too long because I was convinced I could matter enough to make him stay.”

Grayson’s throat bobbed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I hated who I was with him. I didn’t want to bring that part of me into us.”

Grayson stepped closer, voice low. “But he’s already here.”

She looked away.

“You’re not her anymore,” he said.

“I know.”

“I just hate the idea that he gets any part of you. Even a memory.”

Lyra’s eyes shimmered. “He doesn’t. Not really. That piece in there—it’s not about me. It’s about the version of me he wanted to remember.”

“And what about the version I know?” Grayson asked. “The woman who reads poetry aloud when she thinks I’m asleep. Who organizes books by mood. Who makes coffee like it’s a love language. Who runs when she overthinks. Who looks most beautiful in pictures when she doesn’t realize i’m taking them.”

“She’s yours,” Lyra whispered. “Only ever yours.”

Grayson was quiet for a long time.

Then, softly, “Don’t let ghosts rewrite the story.”

She stepped into his arms, and he let her. Held her. Let the fury cool into something heavier—something like sadness.

“I’m not afraid of your past, Lyra,” he said. “I’m just afraid of losing the version of you that trusts me with it.”

She pressed her face into his chest, the hum of his heart a steady rhythm. “I trust you,” she said. “Even when I’m scared. Even when it’s hard. You’re the only future I want.”

Grayson kissed the top of her head. “Then let’s go home.”

They walked away, hand in hand, the past still echoing—but quieter now.

And behind them, in the gallery of fractured glass and painted lies, Mattias Slater watched them go.

[berryispunk]

Past and Present

Chapter 6 of "Rain Down on Me" for the April Showers challenge by @jolapeno

series masterlist

pairing: Frankie Morales x ofc! reader (Summer)

tags: enemies to ???, betrayal, inner turmoil, they talk, kinda soft Frankie (how we love him), talks of parental death, grief mention

notes: I finished their story just today and boy oh boy lemme tell you you guys aren’t prepared! Also a huge THANK YOU to everyone keeping track of these two idiots. They really grew on me. Anyways, enjoy 🤍

word count: ~ 1,8k

You slip into the car before you can second-guess yourself, the box of lemon cupcakes still clutched to your chest like some kind of fragile truth.  You don’t look at him. Just stare straight ahead, jaw tight, pulse loud in your ears. Every instinct is telling you to get back out, to walk away before this gets any messier. But you don’t. Maybe out of guilt. Maybe because he drove all that way. Maybe because you owe him a thank you, even if it tastes bitter on your tongue.

The rain drums softly on the windshield, steady and unrelenting. The car is quiet otherwise—too quiet. It feels like something is coiled in the silence, like if one of you breathes wrong, it might snap.

Frankie’s hands are still on the wheel, knuckles white, like he’s afraid to move.

Then, finally—his voice, rough and low:

“I didn’t mean it.”

Not an excuse, not a plea. Just the truth, stripped down and raw.

He glances over, but you still won’t look at him. Not yet.

He shifts, finally letting go of the wheel, hands dropping into his lap. “I know you don’t owe me anything. But I swear, there wasn’t a real bet. Not like you think.”

You don’t answer. Just stare out the windshield, jaw tight.

“It wasn’t about getting you into bed.” He pauses. “Not exactly.”

Your head snaps toward him. “Seriously?”

Frankie sighs, rubs a hand down his face. “Benny was running his mouth after that party. Said something like, ‘She’s already into you, man. Give it two weeks, she’ll be sleeping in your hoodie’ Just—stupid shit.”

You glare. “And you what? Took him up on it?”

He shifts in his seat, defensive now. “No. I said he was wrong. That was it.”

“You said you'd prove him wrong. Sounds like you were still playing the game.”

“It wasn’t a fucking game,” he snaps, then immediately curses under his breath, glancing away. “Sorry.”

You don’t flinch, but your voice is like ice. “So what was it, then? You let your friend think it was a joke. Let me think you were different. And for what? So you wouldn’t look whipped?”

He groans softly, leans back against the headrest. “I didn’t know how to explain what I was feeling, okay? You scare the shit outta me. I didn’t plan any of this, and suddenly I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and that’s not something I’m good at. So yeah—I acted like a dick. Like it wasn’t serious. Because if I admitted it was, then I’d have to be real about all of it. And I haven’t been real with anyone in a long fucking time.”

You stare at him for a long beat. “So instead, you let me believe I was just… something you were trying to win?”

He goes quiet. Then, softer: “I didn’t think you'd find out.”

That makes you laugh—sharp and humorless. “Wow. That’s your defense?”

He looks at you, really looks. “No. That’s me being honest.”

The silence that follows is a different kind—thick with something unspoken. Wounds not yet healed, but no longer ignored. You don’t answer right away. But you don’t get out of the car either.

—

Frankie doesn’t know what he expected when you got in—maybe fury, maybe that razor-edged silence you used like a weapon. But not this.

Not the way you’re sitting now. Shoulders drawn in, hands wrapped tight around the box like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to this world. You look smaller than he’s ever seen you—not physically, but like someone dimmed your light. Like the fire that used to dance behind your eyes had been snuffed out, and all that’s left is smoke.

Gone is the girl who snapped at him for breathing too loud, who met every one of his jabs with a sharper one of her own. The girl who could slice him open with a look and still make him want to get closer. This version of you is quieter. Exposed. And it slices right through him.

He doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t dare move. Just watches you from the edge of his vision like you’re wired too tight, like one wrong move might set something off.

Then—softly, almost swallowed by the sound of rain—you speak.

“That bakery…” You’re staring straight ahead, eyes glassy. “My dad used to take me there. Every Sunday. Just the two of us.”

You pause. Inhale like it might steady you. But your hands stay tight around the box.

“He died when I was eleven.”

The words hang there—soft and brutal—and Frankie feels them like a punch. Not just because he’s known grief too. He’s buried friends. Held memories like shrapnel in his chest. But this? This is different. This is you. And you never talk like this. Never let people in far enough to see the cracks, let alone the break.

It knocks the breath from him.

He wants to reach for you—do something, say anything—but he can’t. His throat’s too tight. His hands feel too heavy. So he just sits there. Quiet. Still. Holding the moment like it’s fragile glass, and trying not to shatter under the weight of everything you just gave him.

You laugh once, a dry, breathless sound. “It’s stupid, I know. But those cupcakes… they were always part of the good memories. The safe ones. It’s like, for a second, I could go back. Be that version of me. The one who didn’t feel so goddamn replaceable all the time.”

And that’s when it hits him.

Not like a jolt—no, it’s slower than that. Heavier. Like something sinking deep into his chest.

Because he’s never seen you like this. He’s seen the fire, the pushback, the way you wield sarcasm like armor. He’s seen the curve of your smirk when you called him an idiot, and the flicker of something softer when you thought he wasn’t looking. But not this. Not the girl sitting beside him now, swallowed by a hoodie, clutching that box like it’s the only thing keeping her from splintering.

He thought he knew you. Thought maybe he was falling for the version of you who let him in just enough to drive him crazy. But this? This changes everything.

This is real.

And something in him aches, full and sharp and warm, like he’s breaking open just to fit more of you inside.

You wipe your eyes fast, like you’ve done it a hundred times, like it’s a reflex, like you’re used to hiding softness the second it surfaces.

Frankie’s voice is a little hoarse. “It’s not stupid.”

You don’t answer, but this time, you don’t look away.

And in the quiet, something eases. Not gone, not healed—but shifted.

—

You don’t respond right away. Just sit there, the rain thinning on the windshield, the sound of it soft like a lull in a storm that hasn’t really passed.

Your throat feels like it’s closing up, but you manage to say, quieter now, “You really don’t know how much that messed me up.”

Frankie’s voice is lower too. “Yeah. I’m starting to.”

The silence stretches again, but it doesn’t cut like before. It settles.

You glance down at the box in your lap. The cupcakes are a little squished from how hard you’ve been holding them. You loosen your grip, slowly peel the lid back. The smell hits you—lemon, sugar, home—and something in your chest pinches tight.

Frankie watches you carefully, eyes unreadable.

Then he clears his throat, awkward. “You… uh. You gonna share?”

You look over at him. And it’s stupid, it’s so stupid, but the way he says it—like it’s neutral ground, like maybe this is the only language you two can speak without fighting.

You dig into the box, pick one out, and wordlessly offer it to him like a peace offering. His brows lift, surprised, like he didn’t actually expect you to say yes.

He takes it, fingers brushing yours, but doesn’t eat it right away. Just holds it. Looks at you like you’re something fragile—like if he moved too fast, you’d crack right down the middle. Under any other circumstances, you’d hate this. Hate being seen like that—exposed, vulnerable, ripped open at the seams.

But somehow, in the hush of his car, with the rain tapping gently and the scent of your childhood wrapped around you in the air, it doesn’t feel wrong.

It feels... okay. Like maybe you’re allowed to be soft here.

And you try, quietly, not to let that scare you too much.

“Was it worth it?” you ask, not looking at him. “Driving four hours round-trip for these?”

Frankie huffs a laugh, small and real. “Not if you keep hogging the frosting like that.”

You glance sideways at him, and there’s a flicker of something—not forgiveness, but maybe the ghost of what used to live between you. Something that still wants to survive the wreckage.

You look out the windshield again, cupcake resting in your palm, warmth bleeding into your fingers.

And you don’t say it, but you think it— Don’t make me regret this.

—

You sit in the silence for a while. The rain’s thinned to a drizzle now, just enough to paint the world in glistening streaks. Frankie’s hands stay on the wheel, unmoving, but his gaze flicks to you every few seconds—like he’s still making sure you’re real. Still here.

Then, finally, he says, voice low, almost hesitant, “There’s this fair. Out by the beach.”

You turn to look at him, one brow lifting.

“My parents used to take me and my sister there when we were kids,” he continues. “It’s kind of a tradition.”

A beat.

“You have a sister?” you ask, surprise flickering in your voice and your face.

Frankie shoots you a look, lips twitching. “Yeah. A big one. Why is this so surprising?”

You lean back in the seat, the smallest, tired laugh slipping from you. “I don’t know. I just didn’t picture you as someone with siblings. You’ve got that only-child brooding thing going on.”

He huffs a short laugh. “Thanks, I guess?”

You’re still looking at him, the now-soggy box of cupcakes cradled in your lap like it’s something sacred. His face has softened—still wearing that infuriatingly gentle smile, eyes warm and steady on yours. He’s quiet, careful. Watching without pushing, like he knows one wrong word might send you retreating again. And then, something in you shifts. Just slightly.

Your shoulders drop, your grip loosens, and your voice is quieter than before when you finally say, “Okay then.”

Frankie blinks. “Okay?”

“Take me to the fair.”

He blinks again—maybe just as surprised as you are that you’re actually agreeing.

“But,” you add quickly, lifting a warning finger, “this is not a date. It’s a make-up. For all the shit you’ve pulled. All food’s on you. No complaining.”

A grin pulls at the corner of his mouth—slow, crooked, and annoyingly smug.

“Yes, ma’am.”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, something between you doesn’t ache.

It breathes.

Also, this is them:

thanks for reading 💌

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[scribbbbbles]

How Brooklyn Was Brought To Her Knees - Chapter Three: The Deal

author's note: A BUCKY POV???? I felt like you guys would benefit knowing what's going on inside this bozo's head. it's soooooooo ooc but who even cares.

word count: 1.6k

PLEASE CHECK THE MASTERLIST FOR ALL WARNINGS!!!

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I was going to kill him. I was going to kill everyone in this room. I heard Steve force a laugh back down from my left and decided he would be the first to go. 

Today was one of the worst days of my entire life. I had failed, I had let the Red Skull flee from right under my fingertips. Two entire years of sneaking around and beating the shit out of random people in alleyways for him to just … slink away. I’ve never seen Father that angry. What hurt the most was that he was right. 

She distracted me. 

God, I hadn’t seen her face in almost 12 years at that point and it still stopped me in my tracks. She had grown, obviously, and even after whatever hell she’d survived she was breathtaking . I knew that it was her the second that bullet grazed the side of my head. She was the best shot out of any of us, even me. I’m honestly more shocked that she missed. I had to bite down a smile the second she stretched to my throat to try and rip her teeth into me like a feral dog. I’d know the woman that haunted every corner of my mind anywhere. 

Her eyes were muted, a dull sheen compared to their usual vibrance, and yet I still felt like layers of my skin were being peeled back under her gaze as it tore across my features and down my front. I had shuddered under the weight of it and prayed she didn’t notice. Her hair fanned out behind her head in some twisted halo as I threw her to the ground. Her once flawless skin was littered with small bruises and scrapes, and her full lips were chapped and bleeding. My thoughts wandered somewhere downright sinful and entirely inappropriate for the situation when her lips slightly parted as I secured her wrists with my left hand. She was still surprisingly strong and skilled, attempting every maneuver to twist out of my hold. They had ruined her, turned her to broken skin and bone, but even in this state I knew she was ethereal. 

Then Steve had to open his big fucking mouth. 

I’ll never forget the pure, unbridled rage that poured from her in that moment. The flicker of recognition in her eyes, the stable longing for it to be anyone but me because we both knew what this meant. The hot betrayal and how it stung as it whipped through me -the guilt . She has no idea. The jealousy that built up in my chest coiling its way through my ribs seeing her cling to Steve’s arm and spew pure venom in my direction, it made me snap. She’d never know my mission wasn’t purely selfish, fuck I’d never admit some sick part of me did it all for her . It was easier that way. It was allowed . 

But I couldn’t tear my eyes from her. It was almost like if I blinked for too long she’d vanish. The entire car ride I watched her through the side view mirror, and when we got to the estate I watched as she bounded into the waiting arms of her father. I remember how my mom and Becca reacted, it was a similar sense of crying, hugging, and laughing. I watched carefully as Pepper Potts took on the role of my father, stern and somehow disappointed. 

Odd. 

Then I was pulled into my father’s office. The heavy soundproof door clicked shut behind me as he went to stand behind his desk. I waited to be addressed. 

“Did you get him?” The words were pointed, because he already knew the answer. 

“No.” I spat through gritted teeth. I heard my jaw pop from how hard I had it clenched to avoid saying anything that would worsen the situation. Father sighed, and leaned down to pull out an unmarked manilla folder from the top drawer on his desk along with a pen. He slid them both to me. 

“I guess you’ll finally get your wish then, son.” I swallowed thickly before pulling the folder towards me and flicking it open. 

My heart fell to my ass. 

No. 

The Negotiation for the Contracted Marriage of James Buchanan Barnes and Y/N Maria Stark. 

Father’s slanted letters stared back at me, mocking. This can’t be real. I had made peace a while ago with being ‘happy as long as she was’, per Steve’s advice; the goddamn romantic. I would have to watch her post a boyfriend or two on her Instagram and grit my teeth through it. I would have to hear about her engagement through the news and exercise all of my self control to not have the fucker who dared to propose skinned. I would have to send her an acceptable sum as a wedding gift and send Steve to give it to her in my place. I would then go and fill my life with random one night stands and leave the business to Steve’s kid one day, while she had whatever family she desired with whatever prick’s lucky enough to fall asleep holding her every night. It was the plan and it was fine. This was not the plan.   

“Stark and I decided before you returned. I called him here immediately after receiving your call.” 

“You contracted the rest of my life and the combination of three boroughs in under two hours?!” I yelled back at him, slamming the file on the table. Combining two-thirds of New York under two major mob heads would no doubt piss off several of the lower ranked men we kept in line. Father waved his hand. 

“That part has yet to be decided. Potts wants the Morgan child to head the Manhattan sect and wants Parker to resume responsibility for Queens.” I rolled my eyes so far back into my head I think I saw my brain. 

“Potts is fucking stupid.” Father nodded. 

“I agree, but she has a say no matter how much anyone dislikes it.” 

“What about Stark?” He shook his head. 

“He wants her in charge, and to leave his toddler and Parker out of it.” 

“Because he’s sane.” Parker has decided life as a cushy lackey fits him, and he’s honestly one of the better smugglers I’ve seen. Potts wishing this life on her barely four year old daughter is unfortunate, but tracks. She’d changed ever since her stepdaughter disappeared, like she had been waiting for a chance to start over. 

Father sighed, and flipped to the last page in the folder. 

His and Tony Stark’s signatures already colored the bottom of the page. My eyes just about bulged out of my skull. 

“There’s a clause,” Father started, seeing my expression. “That you may divorce after HYDRA is eradicated from the city. But until then we need an ‘us against them’ mentality. Stark agreed on that much at least,” he muttered at the end. “The marriage is one of convenience. It signifies a united front; it allows open allocation of resources and sharing of information. She won’t know until she’s fully healed and has time to recover, I estimate a little less than a year of wiggle-room before HYDRA clamps down harder than they ever have.”

 I stood rigid and silent, my eyes glued to the paper. There was no line for me or her to sign. We had no say in it, and she was going to set the lower east side on fire when she found out. 

“Stark and I have ended a thirty year grudge to fix this problem. We’d both like to live to see retirement,” Father added with a lift in his voice. “I’m sure she’ll be cooperative.” We never liked to speak about my ‘irritating childish infatuation’, as Father calls it, but we both know I won’t be the problem here. God, I mean, he’s practically handing me everything I’ve ever wanted on a silver platter. Except for the fact that my Stark probably wanted me dead more than his did. 

“I’m going to apologize now, for telling you to stake the wedge between you two. In my defense I never wanted to work with Anthony again,” his hands raised softly in mock surrender. “But you can overcome it if you wish. You two are not her father and I. You can decide what to do in the meantime, court her or not. I don’t really care, James. I would recommend at least getting her to warm up to you and maintain a friendly business relationship, as you’ll be the one to deliver the news of the… arrangement.” I looked at him like he had grown five extra heads. The man must really, legitimately want me dead. 

He sighed and leaned over his desk, closer to me. In a hushed tone he forced out, “If you decide to merge all of your territory– be wary, I would still delegate amongst the boroughs. Give Steve a sect and appoint one of her favorites to help cover Queens if Parker remains adverse, maybe appoint Wilson to a higher role and let Romanov sort out whatever becomes of any gains. And if you decide to end it, I do hope it is on peaceful terms. Stark weaponry would wipe us off the map in a turf war– and you don’t have a peace clause with her .” 

I swallowed, but nodded. No fucking pressure. 

“Let’s hope for the former,” I closed the folder and stood back straight again. Father nodded, and gestured to the door. 

“Let’s.” 

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[nerdieforpedro]

Part Seven of "The Lake Between Us"

Merging Star Clusters

Ezra AU x Seraphina (plus size OFC)

Word Count: 1252

Warnings: surprisingly none! 😄

Summary: Ezra's got all his favorite ladies in one place. Seraphina and Cee finally meet.

Notes: Usually, Nerdie brings the family drama, but for Ezra (and my last slivers of sanity), I left that alone this time. This fic is easy, like Sunday morning or whenever you happen to read this.

Main Masterlist/ Ezra Masterlist/ The Lake between Us Series

Cee noted that something was different about her guardian when he stood next to his truck to pick her and Zoe up. He of course took their suitcases like always and brought them in for hugs, never judging her for her choice of partner. Some days, she thought he preferred she was with a woman, she remembered him always telling her “never fully trust anyone even me, but especially men. Leave them alone as long as possible.” She’d been pretty sure he was saying that because he was her father figure as most of them seemed to she heard from her friends. That said, he looked brighter, like he actually slept and put a bit of his weight back on. Cee would never be foolish enough to tell him that last part. Ezra tended to gather it around his belly which despite never mentioning it, she knew he was sensitive about it. She was waiting for him to mention it first. The reason for his positive change. They had spoken about the person in question for the first time a few months ago but only in depth a few weeks ago.

Zora, Cee’s girlfriend of the past year, was never one to mince words or be delicate. Cee appreciated her directness but also her kindness as she was never rude with questions of comments. “So Mr. Wordsmith, this lady friend of yours, is she just that or your partner in you looking like a million dollars?” Ezra had grown accustomed to Zora’s nicknames for his expansive vocabulary and he chuckled at her question as he turned down the main road that led to his home. About twenty more minutes now. 

“She has become an essential fixture in my days and nights, so yes my partner.” Answering in a matter of fact manner without a full paragraph had Cee and Zora look at each other through his rear view mirror as Cee was sitting upfront. 

“I’m still in shock. She’s got to be an angel or something.” Zora exclaimed, patting Ezra’s shoulders to which he continued to smile. 

“Did you not tell Zora her name Cee?” Ezra asked with a raised eyebrow. Zora furrowed her brow at the blonde who appeared in thought.

“Wait, I thought I had. Her name is-“

“Seraphina. My lovely lady’s name is Seraphina.” Ezra hummed. Both women shivered.

“Please don’t say her name like that in front of us like that again. Save that for her.” Cee looked out the window, grinning. He’s smitten, the man who told her never to trust anyone is smitten.

“Never expected you to find an actual angel Mr. Ezra. Though I guess if anyone was, it would be you. You did find that 1st edition copy of ‘Love Poems’ by Nikki Giovanni for my twentieth birthday. Didn’t think one existed anymore.” Zora leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek as they pulled into the driveway and parked his truck. She hopped out along with Cee. Ezra went to grab their suitcases as the front door opened.

A woman clad in a yellow sundress with a bright smile and coiled hair up in a ponytail atop her head her copper skin shimmered from the humidity forming on her skin. She was wearing a bright fuschia lipstick on her full lips and wore blue rimmed glasses. She gave a small wave to which Cee and Zora matched. Ezra climbed the stairs and set the bags down to peck her lips then embrace her. The two young women collectively made an “ooo!” 

“These two uncouth creatins are Zora and Cee. Despite their teasing, they are excited to meet you. They’re mainly having fun at my expense, not yours Sundrop.” His smile nearly hurt, it was from ear to ear. The women that made his life brighter were all gathered here under one roof. Was it alright that he felt this happy? That his nightmares weren’t as frequent? With everyone making their way into his home, he watched as Cee went to the kitchen with Sera and they hugged, rocking back and forth as Sera often did with her own family. Did that mean Seraphina saw Cee as part of her family? Wait…were the two of them family now? Shaking his head, he felt he may be getting ahead of himself. 

Sundrop had already set the table while Ezra had been out. They just poured water and sweet tea and sat down together at the table. Eating and laughing all night, they asked each other questions. Eventually, Cee and Seraphina ended up outside on the porch to chat. They sat side by side, chuckling at how enamored both Zora and Ezra were with the books on the shelves. 

“I sometimes think she’s more of his charge than I am.” Cee laughs as Ezra and Zora are seen through the window exchanging some heightened words over a hardcover book. Their hands are moving back and forth, both excited and likely talking a mile a minute.

“I can see why he took a liking to her. They’re discussing those volumes with quite the fervor.” Sera commenced and Cee nodded. She smiled at Sera.

“I can also see why he’s taken a liking to you. Just sitting with you is pretty relaxing. He looks a hell of a lot better than the last time I saw him.” Seraphina laughed and Cee gasped, “Ah sorry. I sometimes-”

“I know. Ezra told me. I don’t mind. I know he doesn’t like it. He’s not out here is he?” Sera chuckled and Cee relaxed again. Thankfully she was the same as she had been around the dinner table. Personable and kind. “We’ve helped each other. He’s got quite a few layers but they’re warm.” Seraphina then looked out over the water. Cee followed her eyes and peered at the lake too.

“I’ve never heard him described like that, but also you’re the only woman I’ve seen him bring to his house to meet me.”

“That’s…” Sera pressed her hands together and looked over at Cee. She knew things had become more serious between the two of them. The significance wasn’t lost on her. It fell in line with Ezra meeting her mother and subsequently her brothers at a family dinner. Her father met Ezra later that night after his part time job. “I suppose a lot has happened between us.

“In any case, it’s good for him. He doesn’t do well when he’s idle. He’ll say he’s just fine but-”

“That’s when the very bad ideas start and even longer than normal prose starts and never stops?” Seraphina and Cee laugh on that one as Zora exits the back door with Ezra holding a book of poems by Robert Frost. 

“Can you believe he won’t let me borrow this?” Zora appears to be distraught, while Ezra’s arms are crossed defensively. 

“The condition of the Langston Hughes poems speaks volumes to your treatment and care of books. I’ll not have the pages of my collection bent, ripped or stained.” Ezra argued. Cee and Seraphina watched as they bickered a bit more and ushered them inside the house. 

Eventually, they simmered down and agreed that Zora could read it while staying at Ezra’s home and wouldn’t need to be supervised. Cee and Zora slept in Birdie’s old bedroom while Sera and Ezra retired to his. The soft taps of the wind on the sides of the house and the croaks of the crickets lulled them all to sleep for the night.

Interlude 2 Chapter eight

Chapter six

Taste-testers of Ezra’s gumbo 🍤: @rav3n-pascal22 @maggiemayhemnj @morallyinept @survivingandenduring @bonezone44 @magpiepillsjunior-deactivated20 @yorksgirl @gemmahale @missredherring @missladym1981 @alltheglitterandtheroar @megamindsecretlair @readingiskeepingmegoing @pedroshotwifey @tinytinymenace @inept-the-magnificent @vivian-pascal @jessthebaker

[novankenn]

Jaune 1/2 (v2-4)

Nora: I have one! Jump!

Ren: Nora don’t!

Jaune: Wait what? You want me to jump? What for?

Nora tosses her wagasa towards Weiss who catches if clumsily, and then promptly falls backwards trapped beneath it. While the wagasa was airborne, Nora pulled her grenade launcher from her back and mech-shifted it into its hammer form.

Nora: NO time to explain, Red! JUMP!

Ren: Don’t!

Shrugging her shoulders, Jaune did as Nor asked and leapt into the air, only to have her eyes grow wide as she saw the face of the hammer swinging towards her feet. With cat like grace Jaune landed on the face of the hammer, coiled the muscles of her legs and pushed as Nora pulled the trigger at the apex of her swing.

Jaune: SHIT!

Jaune’s legs shook and hurt like hell, but she found herself closing on the massive grimm, and fast. Cocking her hand back, she focused. The nevermore squawked in annoyance, as Jaune landed the blow and started to fall back towards the ground.

Pyrrha: It wasn’t a hard enough hit! 

Jaune obviously due to the height didn’t hear Pyrrha’s comment, but her own thoughts were exactly the same. It wasn’t enough, and she doubted she could survive another one of Nora’s assists. Jaune grunted as she impacted a hard surface. Rolling over, she found herself still several meters above the ground, kneeling on a snowflake?

Weiss: Hurry up! I can’t hold that construct for long!

Again, Jaune barely heard her shouted comment, but she knew she needed to act fast. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the nevermore, wheel about and start to dive upon her.

Jaune: Well, if one hit didn’t do the trick… guess I’ll just have to hit it more.

As the nevermore closed the last few meters, Jaune leapt towards it.

Pyrrha was a very observant person. She had to be. As a championship competitor, she needed to be able to size up an opponent’s style in seconds. Having watched Jaune trained for three days, she had a good gage on what Jaune was capable of. Which is why when she latched onto the nevermore by grabbing a handful of feathers and just started smashing her fist against its chest… Pyrrha was able to count the strikes.

Pyrrha: fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty…

Everyone else, including the new arrivals of a blond woman and her black haired partner, stood in silence and shock as the nevermore squealed in pain.

Pyrrha: Fifty-five, fifty-six, fifty-seven, fifty-eight…

The nevermore’s wings suddenly folded backwards, causing its bulk with Jaune still holding on to plummet towards the hard ground below. Jaune recognizing the danger she was in. pushed off the great grimm, putting distance between it and herself as they continued to race towards the ground below.

Jaune: OW! AH! URK! GAH! ACK!

Pyrrha moved as quickly as she could, putting herself under the rolling form of Jaune, as she impacted and then bounced off of small glyphs Weiss was throwing into the air. When Pyrrha caught her partner, she was surprised at how light she felt, and at the ease she was able to break the last part of her fall safely.

A cloud of dust filled the air, at the impact of the monster grimm, and as the six others, moved in to eliminate the beast, Pyrrha flexed the muscles in her legs, and bolted for the cliffs.

Jaune: What?

Pyrrha: I’m getting you to the cliffs, before anyone tries to pair us up. You hang tight, I can get us there.

Jaune: Okay…

Jaune’s head fell towards her chest, an obvious sign to Pyrrha that Jaune was hurting… most likely from all the impacts with those glyphs, not to mention being exploded into the air.

Pyrrha: Jaune?

Jaune: Huh?

Pyrrha: I have to ask was it necessary to hit that grimm sixty-three times?

Jaune however didn’t hear or answer Pyrrha’s question. Her aching body, and swimming head, finally succumbing to the mind and pain numbing darkness of unconsciousness.

==\ Episode List /==

[jukebox-arts]

Another Ch 8 snippet

It's my birthday, i do what I want, so have another section of chapter 8 cuz this one's a bit beefy:

“What in Azil’s shell is this?”

Neither brother knew what they were looking at for a moment aside from massively overgrown shrubs and climbers that had won the battle against whatever was underneath them, the clearing full to bursting with foliage and creeping vines twisting in and out of tree branches and structures of metal and rope that must have served a purpose before the plant Armageddon arrived. Jenn herself seemed perturbed as they arrived at the edge of the leafy wall after a few minutes of trekking through the forest at her behest, one hand rubbing the back of her head confusedly. “Well, it was my training course,” she answered after a moment, Moon feeling more confused than before. “I knew I forgot something when I got home.”

“Training course?” the navy bot inquired. Beside him, Sun kne;t down and grabbed a leaf from the dense cloud of green wrapping around their feet, giving it a gentle squeeze and finding it plush and bouncy.

“Uh, yeah.” Even the human found her words hard to believe for a moment.

“Training for what?”

Casting a glance at the nosey blue robot, Jenn raised a brow. “Well, unlike you I have to actually maintain my fitness levels.” Moon’s eyes glinted brightly at her sarcasm. “Don’t let the overgrowth fool you,” she added on, kneeling next to Sun and pulling a coil of greenery out of the ground with little resistance. “Trusslin is a very fast growing plant, leave it be long enough and it’ll overtake an area in a matter of weeks. I must have forgotten to come trim it back.”

“It’s soft,” Sun commented, adding the data to his collection of plants.

“Ain’t it?” she mused, grabbing another handful.

“Why not just get rid of it?” Moon wondered, tilting his head while studying one of the overgrown structures.

“Cuz it happens that a carpet of trusslin is really great for breaking falls,” Jenn replied, standing up and pressing a leaf against Moon’s face, causing him to lean away. The leaf dropped onto his shoulder, causing him to pick it up and pause, rubbing it between his fingers; the leaves were velvety and gave way slightly, as if they were little pillows of air that had deflated just a tad. “It’s not gonna stop you from eating shekt if you fall from too high, but I’ve avoided quite a few broken bones because of this stuff. Grows like crazy if it’s light enough and forms natural curls in the stems that tangle together like a net. Just, uh…” She waved her hand over the mess. “Gotta keep up on pruning.”

Taking the leaf from Moon, who was done playing with the plant scrap, Sun squished it between his fingers, trying to contain a giggle. “What do you do with the trimmings?” he wondered, lifting the leaf toward his brother’s face, causing him to lean away slightly.

“Uh…” Thinking for a moment, Jenn counted with her fingers. “Compost, fodder, mulch… there’s no nutritional value unfortunately, and it doesn’t taste like anything, but you can dry them and they stay puffy and soft so I like to use the unbroken ones as scrub pads sometimes, otherwise they’re great padding for pillows and stuff.”

Grabbing Sun’s wrist and shooting him a glare when the leaf returned to his personal bubble, Moon snatched it from his brother’s grasp and dropped it out of reach; Sun only grinned mischievously back at him. “So I’m guessing if we want to use this stuff, we need to cull the overgrowth?” he asked as his other hand moved to stop Sun from putting a vine on his head.

“Unfortunately,” Jenn sighed, turning to face them. “I’ll get a bag and my trimmers and be right back.”

She’d barely left their line of sight before something soft came into swift contact with Moon’s temple–or it tried to at least, before he’d snatched it mid-arc, incidentally crushing the object in his hand. Wet grass wasn’t his favorite scent, but that was far less important than the sound of Sun’s amused snickering. “Quit it,” the darker bot warned, catching the quick motion of Sun plucking another leaf from the overgrowth. “What’re you doing?”

In response, Sun tossed the leaf at his face, causing him to swat it away.

“Sun!” Moon took a step toward his brother, intending to stop him from grabbing anything else to mess with.

Pftb.

They both paused, looking down. Moon lifted his foot, revealing a crushed trusslin leaf that had all of the air force out of it suddenly.

Sun choked back a snicker, chest quivering.

Moon bit the inside of his lip to keep back a laugh of his own, how voice warbling as he tried to keep it in. “Sun–Sun that’s not–” A grinding, throaty sound from the golden bot got him to cough a bit, both of them struggling to not laugh at the absurd noise. “Shut up, that–mkh–that wasn’t funny.”

“Yes it was.” Sun’s voice was barely a squeak.

Cheek aching from trying to fight the urge to smile, Moon had to turn away, losing the battle slowly against his own poor humor. “We really are children.”

Doubled over, Sun nodded, trying his best to calm himself down. A thick, fuzzy leaf bobbed in front of him as he exhaled; teal eyes flicked to Moon for a moment, then back to the leaf.

Moon saw the glance. “Do not.”

Sun reached for the leaf slowly, now holding Moon’s gaze with his mouth pressed thin with guilty pleasure.

“Sunrise.”

In a flash, Sun grabbed the leaf and pulled, twisting upright–

–Moon darted, trying to rip the leaf away before anything could be done with it.

~

[banananutsmuthie]

The Dangers of Owning a Smartphone

Idol(s): Yena [IZ*ONE]

Word Count: 5.1k+ words

Content Advisory: Titfucking

A/N: Dedicated to @friskyriskywhisky based off this ask. Sadly, I did not finish this fic in two sittings, so I guess I lost frisky's bet :(

need your cock so bad. Come to my place RIGHT NOW and fuck me

And just like that, any productivity you had for the day evaporates.

That’s the power of Yena’s texts. It isn’t just her words—you’re used to Yena’s frequent booty calls by now. No, it’s the picture she sends with it that drives you wild.

There she is in stunning high resolution, kneeling on her bed, playfully pulling on her high pigtails. Her gaze exudes the confidence of a woman who knows what she wants, screaming to be dicked down. Her tongue licks at those famous dick-sucking duck lips, further supporting just how bad she wants it.

Zoom in and you can see every minute detail of her sinful body: every ridge defined in her exposed midriff, every goosebump running up her glistening thighs, and even that perfect cleavage reserved for your eyes only. But what really commands your attention is her outfit and the lack of coverage it actually provides. There’s subtle holes in her purple knit top and skirt; the image at any lower fidelity would’ve missed the lack of clothes underneath. Thank God for smartphones then, to be able to capture Yena’s perky tits and pussy lips, visible through her knit outfit in all its intended high-def glory.

“Holy shit, is that Yena?! You didn’t tell me you were dating my ult bias!”

You should’ve known by his unmistakable musk that Wooseok was in the vicinity. You turn around to see him hovering over your shoulder gawking at Yena’s zoomed-in body.

That’s the danger of owning a smartphone when you date Yena.

“Wooseok, what the fuck! Why are you at my desk?”

“Seeing if you wanted to do lunch, but it looks like you’re already eyeing dessert,” Wooseok replies with a sly smile.

“Keep your voice down! No one’s supposed to know.”

Wooseok’s hunger can no longer be satisfied by lunch alone. His eyes widen, hungry to know more about that delicious Yena body. His firm hands grasp at your shoulders, playfully shaking you as a congratulatory gesture. “This motherfucker! Banging idols now? What’s she like in bed? Fuck man, you gotta tell me everything!”

“Dude, I’m not talking about this with you.”

“So I take it we’re not doing lunch today then?”

Wooseok already knows the answer. Normally, lunch out with the work bestie talking shit about the other co-workers is a welcome break from the monotony of writing a review for another tired 80’s-inspired title track overloaded with synths. But knowing there’s a full course meal of duck being served just for you superseded any previously agreed upon lunch plans. You get up and start to walk toward the elevator without even answering him, but Wooseok tugs at your wrist and holds you back.

“At least tell her that her biggest fan says hi!”

“Now why would I do that?”

“Dude. We work for a tabloid. An idol dating scandal? That’s a headline. That’s my headline. Just tell her I said hi and I won’t say anything. She’ll know who I am, I’ve been to all her fan signs.”

“Ugh, fine.” Wooseok finally lets go, allowing you to enjoy your lunch break.

* * *

“Yena?” you holler through her apartment.

“In the bedroom, oppa!”

As you approach her room at the end of the hall, you can hear Yena’s feet shuffling, then a thud followed by the coils in her mattress giving way. It all makes sense when you finally turn the corner and stand in the open door frame.

It’s almost like a murder scene in there. Her purple panties play the part of the victim, lying lifeless on the carpeted floor. Splotches of her bodily fluid splatter across various areas of the room, and of course, the weapon of choice, her bullet vibrator, still left at the crime scene next to Yena’s undergarment. The lone suspect sits atop the bed, her legs spread wide, face unable to hide her guilt and naughtiness, beckoning you to interrogate her insides.

But first, there’s the matter to resolve with Wooseok.

“You know, you shouldn’t be sending me explicit texts and photos when I’m at work, Yena.”

“Why not? I know you love it, oppa!”

“That’s not the point! My coworker Wooseok saw the text! He started asking what it’s like sleeping with his IZ*ONE bias and asked me to tell you he’s your biggest fan. It was kinda creepy to be honest.”

The speech falls on deaf ears. Yena lunges off the bed to pepper you with neck nibbles. As her hands grasp at your biceps, her perfect breasts press against you, allowing you to feel her perky nipples through her top.

“I know you didn’t come here to just talk,” she says.

Her fingers wage a war with your button down shirt, but it isn’t so much a war as it is a slaughter. Yena’s fingers are too skilled to even consider it an even fight, swiftly undoing each button with the precision of an experienced surgeon. Her lips follow the exposed skin trail left in the wake of her destruction, leaving pink lipstick marks down your chest until no buttons remain fastened. All it takes is a small tug at the hem, and your shirt becomes a useless decoration on Yena’s bedroom floor, joining her crumpled up panties and glistening vibrator.

“You don’t know how bad I’ve wanted this. Been thinking about your cock all morning.”

Yena’s knees crumble to the carpet with a soft thud as she firmly plants herself in front of you, licking her lips as she finally makes way to the spoils of her war. Your belt buckle doesn’t even stand a chance; Yena aggressively pulls down your pants and underwear with ease, her eyes lighting up like seeing a long lost friend when she finally sees your cock.

But then she looks back up with a look of mild frustration. “This won’t do.”

“What?”

“Need you to get hard for me, oppa. I want your big hard cock in me and I want it NOW.” Yena hastily pushes you onto the bed. “Close your eyes for me, oppa.”

Yena disappears behind your shut eyelids as you follow her command; the lack of a concrete visual aid only heightens your other senses. Shivers run down your back as Yena’s cold fingers wrap around your flaccid cock.

“I bet you imagine me under your desk secretly giving you a blowjob while Wooseok is in the next cubicle over, not knowing his favorite idol is giving you head. Go ahead, imagine it.”

Turns out she was listening earlier about Wooseok after all, but he becomes a distant memory as the subtle sound of Yena’s breasts clapping against each other from her aggressive handjob drowns out any other thoughts. As she swiftly strokes, Yena’s wet, pouty lips surround your tip, helping to evoke the image she’s attempting to paint. Your imagination finally conjures a representation of Yena to fill in the visual void: her face is full of cock, stuck between your parted thighs under your desk discreetly trying to milk you.

Her longing eyes meet your gaze, begging you to get hard for her, longing to feel what it’s like to be mouthfucked in such a public space. A tear streams down her cheek as Yena’s lips tighten, the confines of her tiny mouth shrinking until your tip manages to poke at the back of her throat. Unable to contain you anymore, she pulls off, her slobber trickling down your shaft as she continues stroking instead.

“Look at that, getting hard for me at the thought of office head. You like that, don’t you?”

“Mhmm. Go on,” you respond, eyes still closed, letting your imagination take you wherever Yena wants.

“I bet you thought of abusing your media privileges to get backstage at one of my concerts. But that’s not the only thing you’re abusing, is it? Catching me in the middle of a wardrobe change and abusing my used hole from behind. Can you hear that? That’s the sound of my fans screaming my name for an encore not knowing I’m screaming your name and chasing a different kind of encore.”

The office disappears. Suddenly, you find yourself in a dark corner backstage staring down at Yena’s sweaty bare back, her safety shorts pulled down to her ankles as she props herself up on some musical equipment cases. The sound of her clapping breasts serves as a proxy to the image of Yena’s ass cheeks rippling against your crotch with every imaginary thrust. Her pussy tightens as you thrust faster, but in reality, you know it’s just you getting harder to Yena’s maddening strokes.

“Mhmm. What else, baby? Fuck, keep going.”

“Bet you’ve jerked off in the office to all my teaser photos late at night after everyone’s gone home, even though you know you can get this pussy any time you want. You probably even imagine your idol girlfriend squirting all over your desk while you’re doing it. All of that while you try to meet your deadline for all those reviews you do for K-Pop girl group comebacks. But you know what, oppa?”

The room goes silent. The sudden lack of euphoria causes a blank image again, and so you open your eyes to see your fully-erect cock throbbing between Yena’s tiny hands. Satisfied with getting you hard, Yena’s hands have stopped stroking but continue to grip harshly around the base of your shaft.

“What?” you ask, praying that there’s more to this lunch break than just a quick hand job.

“None of them can sing the way that I do when you ram this big cock into my tight little pussy.”

She pumps one more time, putting your tip back into her mouth and giving the most sensitive part a lick. Her mouth delves deeper. Her hands fall off your cock, making way for those greedy lips that have now consumed the length of your shaft. Yena groans but refuses to come back up for air, then you see why: her hand reaches for your phone, placing it in front of her and propping it up against your stomach. After a few screen taps, she finally pulls off, saliva dribbling from between her lips.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“You told me not to send you explicit photos, so I’m saving them instead so you can pull them up on your own time and jerk off to me whenever you want. See?” Yena turns the phone around, showing off the picture of your cock fully in her mouth, her eyes watering from holding it in so long.

That’s the perk of owning a smartphone when you date Yena.

“Fuck, Yena, you’re so fucking naughty.”

“Good. I’ve been thinking of shedding my bubbly image, maybe try a more mature concept.”

“Oh, yeah? How mature we talking?”

Her knees are an irritated pink as she gets up off the carpet. Yena arches down to give your tip one last lick before releasing you from her grip, finally backing up to allow you one final view of her outfit before it becomes one with the floor. Like your button down shirt, all it takes is a simple tug for Yena’s scratchy skirt to slide off her hips, and gravity does the rest.

Yena’s perfect pussy is always such a sight to behold. It was already unbelievable that she agreed to a date when you first met; it was meant as a joke to ease the tension when you first interviewed her. But to now have been to her apartment for the umpteenth time, to know the nymphomaniac hiding behind her squeaky clean idol image, and to have that body all to yourself whenever you wanted? This whole thing could’ve easily been mistaken for another one of Yena’s imaginary sexual concoctions.

This time, without your eyes closed, it’s clear all of this is as real as it gets.

“This mature enough for you, oppa?”

Yena’s hand sits just inches from her face. As she parts her fingers, you can see the look of excitement in her eyes admiring the strings of your precum and her earlier slick webbed between her fingers. She shuts them back together and sticks them into her mouth, sucking the cocktail off her digits and letting out a moan of satisfaction. She leaves a trail of saliva as she runs her fingers down her neck, through her cleavage, and across her tight core until her pilgrimage leads to her clit. Her other hand grabs at her chest, Yena now rubbing herself in her most sensitive regions, unable to hold back a muted moan even through a bitten lip.

“Mmm, I don’t think it’s mature enough. Still too much clothes. How about you take that top off?”

Yena chuckles. There is lust in her eyes, scheming a plan on how to best present her breasts. She doesn’t want to just take it off; she wants to make a show out of it, and so Yena finds a loose string in her top and tugs. The more she pulls, the further her top unravels, slowly stripping away the last of her decency and exposing her chest little by little. Her underboob starts to get exposed; her breasts look so supple in this teasing state, leaving you in a stupor. Yena catches you licking your lips, and she pinches off the long string of yarn before going any further.

“Why’d you stop?” you ask.

She doesn’t need words to answer when she can use her body. You prefer it, even, knowing just how well she’s used it in the past. Yena doesn’t even break eye contact as she moves toward you on the bed, once again kneeling between your legs and guiding your stiff member underneath what’s left of her top and in between her breasts. Thrust upward, and your tip manages to escape through the other side of her cleavage. Now you see why she stopped at exposing just her underboob.

“God, Yena, your tits are fucking amazing.”

“Yeah, bet you never thought of titfucking me, huh? I’m actually surprised we haven’t done this yet.”

Yena purses her lips, conjuring saliva that drips down to her chest below. Her fingers start to rub, lubricating her cleavage with her bodily fluids. The sight alone causes you to throb uncontrollably between Yena’s pillows. She finally gives the command when she’s finally done.

“Fuck me, oppa.”

The feeling is somewhat unfamiliar as you push and pull against her chest for the first time. It’s euphoric, not unlike thrusting between Yena’s pink walls, but it’s the velvety softness hugging your shaft from both sides that really makes it extra special.

Yena lets out a moan. It’s just as pleasurable for her as it is for you, it seems. You increase your speed with each subsequent thrust, causing Yena’s contained breasts to heave heavily with rippling waves forming on the surface.

“Tell me how much you love fucking my tits, oppa.”

It’s hard to even answer her with how much focus it takes to thrust between her chest, but she takes your grunts as a sign of approval. Yena smiles back up at you, and you can’t help but think of ruining that pretty little face, those perky lips, and that blessed chest. Grab at her pigtails like they’re handle bars, and Yena purrs like a Harley. It stabilizes you, allowing you to rev faster between her breasts.

“Fuck, Yena, you’re so fucking amazing.”

Yena winces, but it’s not like she isn’t used to rough sex. She loves it, only goading you on more.

“Oh, I see you like it rough,” Yena says in response. “I can play that game, too.”

She reaches for the bullet vibrator on the floor, turns it on, and tucks it between her chest, wedging it under your shaft for mutual stimulation. Yena’s words come out in a raspy vibrato: “You like that , don’t youuuuu~?”

The feeling is intense: muscles spasming, toes curling, fingers tugging tighter on Yena’s black locks. It’s almost a little too much, feeling like you could cum on Yena at any given moment with how mind-numbingly good it is. You respond back with a low growl, surprised that it comes out with the same pulsating pitch as Yena.

Keep going. Yena’s saliva has long been dried up between her chest, leaving her skin in a reddish irritated state where your skin roughly rubs against hers. Somehow, fucking her tits still feels as good as the first thrust: with every push, beads of sweat begin to percolate down her neck and upper chest thanks to the hot and humid action, flowing down her cleavage and starting the lubrication anew.

“Cum all over my chest, oppa. I want it everywhere.”

You want to be defiant to her words, to hold out just a little longer and enjoy every moment. Yena can see it in the way you bite your bottom lip, can feel it in her hair tangling even tighter in your grasp. You try to look away, hoping that avoiding eye contact with Yena will prolong the inevitable. You try to think of anything else other than fucking your girlfriend’s tits silly. You try everything, but it isn’t nearly enough.

“It’s cute that you think you can hold out any longer, oppa.”

Yena grasps across her body underneath her breasts with one hand, pushing her chest together and suffocating your cock even more. Her other hand grips at your tip; with each thrust between her chest, she strokes, only further stimulating you. With her bullet vibrator still wedged between her chest and the underside of your shaft, there’s not much you can do to prevent the inevitable, and so when Yena tells you to cum all over her chest, you do as she says—there’s no negotiation.

“Fuck, Yena!”

You toss your head back and thrust upward one last time, holding her in place by her pigtails to ensure she receives the full force skyrocketing out of your cock. Yena grabs at your exposed shaft that throbs in her hands, coaxing every last drop out of you. Each of Yena’s strokes beat in time with each explosion that sprays her chest in white until there’s nothing left to give.

Yena’s chest is a mess, nothing but a wasteland of cum. Even her lips are painted in white as it drips in globs down her chin and back into the used crevice that heaves heavily around your softening cock. She grabs your phone again, taking more pictures of the artwork you just painted on her, lips protruding and proudly showing off your cum like a trophy.

“These look so great, oppa. You’re gonna love jerking off to these later!” Yena takes a second to admire the photos she took before finally slipping out of her top and turning off her vibrator.

Yena desperately looks around for something to wipe off the sticky load you left her. There’s no towels or tissues to be seen. She debates even using her skirt but eventually settles on her panties to wipe herself down, the purple undergarment now a creamy white as she tosses it toward the headboard.

“Now it’s my turn. Need you to make me cum.”

Yena pushes you down onto the bed, swinging one leg over you and hovering over your softening cock.

“This won’t do,” she says again.

“I don’t know if I have the strength to go again, Yena.”

“Maybe this might change your mind.”

Yena lowers herself onto you, her glistening pussy rubbing against the underside of your shaft, gyrating against you to change your mind. Her lips part ever so slightly at just the slightest pressure your tip exerts, revealing just how wet she already is. You can tell she wants to push further, wants to fill herself up with your cock, but if there’s one thing that Yena enjoys more than sex, it’s the chase.

She knows just how hypersensitive your cock is after an orgasm, and so she grinds harder to get you erect again. Let her. It’s what she’s good at.

Slowly, your cock starts to grow again. She continues, letting your shaft glide between the smoothness of her outer lips. When your tip pushes against her clit, she lets out a moan, causing you to leak a little more cum, her rosy slit now tinged in a hint of your white glaze. Yena pulls away with a smirk seeing you at full erection. She’s done her job, sowing the seeds in your mind to sow your seed in her.

“I guess you can just go back to work if that’s what you really want.” She feigns disinterest, looking away as she starts to dismount. By now, it’s a game of chicken seeing who’s the first to break, but the thing about Yena is that she never loses. Of course not. Who would dare turn down sex with Yena?

Tug at her hips and pull her back in. You know how this goes. This isn’t some random one night stand, this is Yena: idol, sex extraordinaire, owner of your cock. And so the moment she feels your fingers gripping her ass and pulling her back in, she knows she’s won.

“Good,” Yena says with a smile, “I knew you couldn’t resist.”

“Shut up,” you playfully tell her.

“Fill me up, oppa. Don’t go slow, either. Hard and fast. I’m already so close.”

You thrust upward into Yena, penetrating her easily as she lets out a sharp exhale. It’s effortless with how much she already got off on her vibrator and with how familiar she is with your cock. It’s home for you, living between her warm, inviting walls. You’d stay longer inside her and enjoy the moment if you could, but Yena wants hard and fast, so you give her exactly what she asks for.

Pull out halfway, slam back in, then repeat. It isn’t hard; you’ve done it before. Each thrust sends Yena’s head back further as she shuts her eyes, letting you do all the work. The cum you left on Yena’s pussy lips earlier starts to lather your shaft, creating a warm, creamy mess that starts to drip out of her slit with each penetration.

“That’s it, oppa. Fuck, you’re so big.”

Your nails dig deeper into her hips, gripping her firmly as you mindlessly fuck Yena into oblivion. She sucks in through gritted teeth, soldiering through the pain and taking in all the pleasure of your ramming cock. Yena’s breasts, still glistening with a mixture of sweat and leftover cum, bounce wildly up and down, keeping time with your pelvis crashing upward against her body.

“Ugh! So fucking good! Can’t believe how fucking good this cock feels in me.”

It’s too much to handle, having to do all the work while Yena stays stationary above you, screaming at the top of her lungs like she’s riding a roller coaster. She isn’t gonna shut up any time soon with how much she’s enjoying herself either, so you roll and toss her onto the bed; you’re the one hovering above her now.

Yena giggles. For how commanding she’s been during this lunch break, she still loves getting forced around and used like a rag doll. Her eyes open, giving a signal to push her further, to use her like a sponge and soak up all your cum.

“That’s it, oppa, make me your cumdump. F-fuck, right there, oppa, right there!”

Turn her around, force her diaphragm against the mattress so she stops quacking. It still isn’t enough.

“Stop being a tease and stick it back in! Fill my hole with cum, oppa. Make me dripping wet.”

You grab her soaked panties, the one she tossed on the bed after wiping herself off—there’s no reason to let all that cum go to waste. Ball it up and shove it into her mouth. She did say to fill her hole with cum; that’s her fault for not specifying which hole.

“Mmpph!” Yena cries out.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

It’s a good pacifier and she loves it. Yena can only let out muted moans as you thrust back into her from behind. You push your hand against the small of her back, causing her ass to perk up for you and forcing any air out through her nose in an audible exhale. You give her ass a good slap; watch as it ripples against your crotch. Yena squirms and jerks forward, letting another moan escape between her cum-soaked duck lips.

She grabs at your phone again, unlocks it with a tap of “2909”—her birthday, of course—and starts to find the right angle for another photo to add to the growing collection. Leave it to Yena to make it Instagram-worthy, crawling a little to the left to make sure the sunlight hits her face just right, tilting her phone for the perfect shot.

“Mmm?” Yena asks as she lifts the phone up to let you admire the photo now saved for eternity in the cloud.

You like what you see on that tiny screen as you continue to pound her from behind. It’s the first time seeing her gagging on her panties between those protruding lips. Cum leaks down the corner of her mouth, catching between her cleavage in the bottom of the photo. The high angle also manages to capture her tiny, squishy butt and your tireless cock pistoning between her reddened cheeks.

“Looks so good, Yena. Such an obedient duck.”

You collapse onto her back; it’s exhausting trying to make your duck cum. One hand reaches underneath her, her nipples still hard as they’re pinched between your fingers. Your other hand grabs at her throat. She gulps, and you can feel that lump of cum going down her trachea. You run your lips on the side of her sweaty neck, tasting the tang of her sexual frustration.

“You’re so fucking tight, Yena. So close, aren’t you?”

Your hand releases Yena’s throat to reach out for her vibrator at the edge of the bed. You slide it underneath her, feeling around until it touches her clit. One flick is all it takes to turn her vibrator on, and she shudders, throwing her ass upward towards you when she feels that sensation pulsating against her sensitive hood. It’s too much for her. She tries to escape, tries to prolong the inevitable, but you push her back down with your cock and let her feel it, her own toy vibrating at maximum speed against her needy pussy.

“Ngghh~!”

Yena’s hands now grasp harshly at her bed sheets. Her crescendoing moans fight their way through her makeshift gag, back arching as her face drowns in her pillow—every telltale sign that Yena is close.

“It’s cute that you think you can hold out any longer, Yena,” you tell her, teasing her with the same sentiment she gave you earlier.

A couple more thrusts and Yena can’t take it anymore. She finally succumbs to her orgasm, her body convulsing, core tightening, pussy pulsating. You let her ride it out by continuing to thrust into her, but you start to feel yourself arriving at the same end as Yena.

Your grunts join Yena’s moans. Her walls constrict against your shaft. Warm bodily fluids flow out from between her pussy lips. You can’t tell if it’s yours or Yena’s. Doesn’t matter. You keep going until both of you are too drained to continue, stopping only after Yena’s flailing body eventually goes limp.

“Yena?”

You flip her around to make sure she’s still alive. Yena’s eyes stare off past the ceiling in a daze. Her breasts act as buoys, floating up and down with every inhale and exhale. Below, her bedsheets are marked with her essence in a huge puddle soaking into the polyester. Your own cum drips onto the bed sheets out of her pussy that’s almost unrecognizable behind the overflowing load.

You pull out the used lingerie out of her mouth. It’s completely clean, your cum now lining her stomach like the foie gras meal she is.

“That. Was. Amazing,” Yena manages to express, every word coming out in a drawn out breath.

You collapse once again, this time next to her, your arm reaching across her bare midriff for a quick cuddle. Yena grabs your phone one last time, taking one last picture from between her legs and capturing the collective mess.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to work, oppa?”

You glance at your phone in Yena’s hand noticing it’s been nearly an hour since you clocked out of the office.

You lunge out of the bed. “Shit, shit, shit!”

“Man, these photos came out great, too, oppa!” Yena’s eyes widen as she scrolls through your phone, admiring all the photos she took while you hurriedly put your clothes back on.

“Can you hand me my keys and phone, babe?”

“Sure thing, oppa. Let me just put these photos in a secure folder for safe keeping.” When she finally finishes, she hands you the phone along with your keys.

“Gotta go,” you tell Yena, kissing her on her cheek. “I’ll call you later, maybe dinner tonight if you’re not busy?”

“Sure. And tell Wooseok I hope he enjoys the rest of his day!”

“Cool, see you tonight.”

* * *

It’s nearly 3:50 PM before Wooseok finally comes back from his lunch break.

“Dude, where have you been? It’s almost 4!” you tell Wooseok as he walks past your desk.

“Holy shit, dude. Those pictures your girlfriend sent me were so fucking hot. Completely drained me. Almost didn’t come back to work.”

“Photos? What photos are you talking about?”

Wooseok pulls out his phone, making sure no one else in the office can see all the photos Yena took of herself with your phone. “She texted these to me from your number,” he says with a big grin.

You hurriedly pull out your phone and confirm that Yena did, in fact, send all of the photos she took while at her apartment to Wooseok along with a message:

Hi Wooseok oppa! This is Yena, hope you enjoy these pictures of me 😄 consider it fan service for being one of my biggest fans and a sign of good faith that you won’t leak my relationship. See you at the next fan meet xoxo

There isn’t anything you can do about it now except to pray that Wooseok’s loyalty to Yena is strong enough to not ruin her career as well as yours.

“Please, Wooseok—”

“Don’t worry, I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone,” Wooseok says after noticing the look of horror on your face. “But I’m definitely keeping these photos.”

And to think this all could’ve been avoided if you didn’t use Yena’s birthday as your passcode.

That’s the danger of owning a smartphone when you date Yena.

[writing-wh0re]

Billy Hargrove smut where he rough fucks reader in his car 🤤🤤

All writings will be #writing-wh0re-requests  Likes are great but feedback is golden - Open to all feedback, I know there is room for improvement. 

Hope this fic is what you wanted Anon! Keep the requests coming xx

*FIRST SMUT FIC!!* 

Y/N (YOUR NAME) Y/S/N (Your Siblings Name)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x reader

Word Count: 2,111k 

Warnings: Smut 18+, Explicit Language, Daddy Kink (whoops), Slight Praise Kink, Fingering, Vaginal Intercourse, Unprotected Sex, Oral (female receiving), Angst(?), Arguments. 

Summary: After forgetting your three year anniversary, Billy attempts to make it up to you.

I was walking down the street, hearing the music pumping through the wind as I spotted it. 

Billy’s blue 1979 Camaro sitting in Carol Perkins driveway. I made my way up to the car, feeling the hood still warm, meaning Billy couldn’t have been here for that long. 

“Fucking prick.” I mumble as I start my shuffle and weave through fellow classmates to find Billy. 

“Y/N, Billy didn��t mention you’d be coming? If I had known I would have sent you a dress code sheet.” Carol Perkins states holding her red solo cup against her shoulder. I look down on my outfit quickly, black converse, leather skirt and dark green lace bodysuit. I raise an eyebrow as I look at  Carol’s outfit, sucking my teeth as I roll my eyes. 

Carol drives me insane, she hasn’t liked me from the minute Billy and I started dating and to be honest, the feeling is mutual. Between her bitchy comments and her backhanded compliments, I couldn’t care less about her. 

“Dress code sheets would have been handy because under dressing as a hostess is embarrassing.” I watch as Carol scoffs, looking at Nicole beside her who has a disgust written all over her facial expression. 

“Drink, Drink, Drink, Drink.”

I follow the chanting to the back patio, leaving Carol and Nicole to mumble between themselves. I spot Billy doing his famous keg stand, surrounded by almost all the boys from the football team cheering him on. I watch as Billy completes his keg stand, his shirt open, beer coating his chest causing it to glisten in the light. I lick my lips at the sight, feeling wetness starting to pool between my legs, I shake the thoughts from my head. 

‘Remember why you’re mad at him.’ I remind myself, disliking that my body has such a reaction to him.

I watch as a girl walks up to him, placing her hand on his chest as she whispers in his ear, causing him to bite his lip and chuckle. I lean against the support beam as I watch the scene unfold, Billy turning the girl down as she rolls her eyes and attempts a new technique, only to receive the same result. The girl struts away annoyed as I walk over to Billy, watching as he tenses slightly, knowing he’s fucked up. 

“Hi princess, what ar-” 

“Fuck you Billy Hargrove.” Billy, grabs my forearm and pulls me into him, our chests bumping into each other as he narrows his eyes at me, smirking devilishly. 

“Want to say that again princess?” 

I pull myself out of his grip as I shove him backwards, causing him to chuckle as he looks over to Tommy. 

“I think she’s mad at me, don’t you think Hagan?” Billy chuckles as I whip around to Tommy, holding my index finger up. 

“If you know what’s good for you Hagan, you’ll walk away.” I threaten as Tommy shakes his head at us, putting his hands up in defense and walking back to the house. 

“Honestly Billy, I had to find out you were here from Y/S/N and Max!” 

“That’s the last time I tell Max anything.” Billy says walking towards me as I huff. 

“Not the point, do you remember what today is? Does today have any importance to you?” 

I watch as Billy puts his head down sighing shuffling around in his pocket as he pulls out a cigarette lighting it and taking a draw before answering me. 

“Did you fail a huge test today? Is it a birthday?” Billy questions as I scoff. 

“God, you’re such a prick you know that.” I turn to walk away from Billy feeling sadness fill my chest as I see a small crowd watching our interaction. 

“So what, you’re just not going to tell me why you’re mad at me? I have to play some sort of guessing game? Why did you even come here Y/N, you hate parties.” 

“I think you’re just being a dick on purpose now, have a reputation to keep up?” I question gesturing to the small crowd. “It’s our fucking three year anniversary dickwad!” I yell watching as realisation hits Billy. “And also, I don’t hate parties, I hate parties at Carol’s or parties I'm not invited to, which makes me, us, look fucking ridicolous.” 

I hear a few oo’s and oh’s from the small crowd as Billy forms two fists, anger boiling inside him. 

“Enjoying the show? Get the fuck out of here!” Billy yells to the crowd as they quickly disperse. “Princess, Tommy invited me tonight and I forgot.” 

“That’s exactly what I want to hear, you forgot.” I cross my arms over my chest watching as Billy’s eyes trail over my chest, his eyes lingering as they track down my body, Billy closing the distance between us as he runs his fingers up and down my arm. 

“Did you wear this, all for me?” Billy asks seductively as goosebumps prick my skin, a soft sigh falling from my lips. Billy moves closer, his lips ghosting mine as I feel my eyes flutter closed. 

‘No.’ I think to myself as I pull back. 

“Enjoy your party Billy.” I hear Billy groan in annoyance as I turn to walk away, feeling him grab my hand and rush ahead of me, pulling me behind him. 

“Billy.” 

“What are you doing?” 

All my protests fall on deaf ears as Billy and I shuffle through the bodies and make it outside. 

“Get in.” I raise an eyebrow and notice Billy unlock his car as I scoff. 

“I’ll walk home.” 

“It wasn’t a fucking question Y/N, get in the car and stop being a brat.” I huff as I walk to the passenger side and slip into the leather seat, Billy falling into the drivers as he starts the car and reverses out. 

“You better be taking me home.” 

I hear him chuckle as he takes the corners fast, his car engine roaring through the streets as he continues to drive, my mind not knowing the surroundings due to the blanket of darkness. After roughly five minutes, he parks the car on the side of the deserted back road, between a small clearing of trees. Billy gets out of the car as I look around at our surroundings, nothing but trees, silence and darkness. He opens my door as I look up at him confused. 

“Get in the back.” 

I smirk, licking my lips as I sit forward in my seat slightly, giving Billy the perfect view of my cleavage. “You expect us to have sex here?” I question as Billy huffs, grabbing my wrist and pulling me up to his chest. 

“I have to make it up to you babygirl, now get in the backseat.” 

I open the door and crawl into the backseat, sitting and facing the open door as Billy grabs ahold of my ankles from my outstretched legs, swiftly pulling me closer to him. I feel my breath quicken as he takes off his button up shirt, exposing his toned torso as I bite my lip. I keep my eyes on him as he wiggles my skirt to just above my hips, chuckling to himself as I feel heat cover my cheeks. 

“And I wonder who made you drip like this baby girl.” Billy says as his index finger traces over the dark green lace of the body suit as a small whimper falls from my lips. 

“I asked you a question.” 

“You did daddy.” I whisper as he smirks, kissing my inner thighs, ghosting over my heat as I sigh. 

“Good girl.” 

I feel Billy pull the lace bodysuit to the side as his finger traces small circles around my clit, causing soft moans to fill the air. 

“You can be as loud as you want princess, no one is around to hear us.” 

Billy slides a finger into my tight, dripping pussy as I cup my boobs toying with my nipples. He picks up the pace slightly, adding another finger and curling it upwards as I arch my back. 

“Fuck.” 

I hear Billy moan as his tongue slides over my throbbing clit, my back arching off the leather as I moan in pleasure, my fingers running through his hair as he continues to flick his tongue on my sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“Jesus Daddy.” I moan as we lock eyes with each other, causing Billy to moan sending vibrations all over my clit, his fingers picking up their pace. I feel Billy wrap his lips around my swollen clit, sucking softly as I feel the coil inside me tighten as I get closer and closer to my release. 

“Just like that, oh fuck, I’m going to cum.” I warn as Billy stops abruptly, smirking at me as I groan in annoyance at the loss of pleasure. 

“You only get to cum on my dick baby girl.” 

I run my hand down my body to play with my clit, wanting to get back to feeling some sort of pleasure as Billy slaps my hand away. I watch as he swiftly takes off his belt, undoing his jeans and sliding them down only slightly, allowing his dick to spring free, slapping against his stomach as I lick my lips. 

“Move back.” Billy instructs as I shuffle backwards eagerily, allowing for him to get into the car. 

Billy kneels on the leather seat, pulling me closer by my hips as he lines himself up against my pussy, sliding right into place as moans fill the air of the car. 

“Fucking made for me.” Billy praises as he starts to move his hips, not giving me much time to adjust to his size. 

“God, you’re so fucking big.” I moan as Billy raises my legs up to rest against his chest, feet either side of his face, the new angle allowing for him to go deeper. 

Billy picks up his pace, throwing his head back in pleasure as I arch my back. 

“Fuck Y/N.” 

“Daddy.” 

Billy lets go of my legs as he slides out, grabbing my hips as I raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Ass up.” Billy commands as I oblige, turning over, face against the leather, ass in the air as Billy slaps the supple skin. “God, you’re hot.” He praises as I moan softly, feeling him run the tip of his dick around in circles on my clit before sliding deep into my pussy. “Fuck, you’re so tight baby.” 

I moan into the leather as Billy starts to rock his hips into mine, faster and deeper in the new position. 

“Just like that.” I say as Billy grabs a fistfull of my hair, pulling me up slightly as he rubs circles on my clit causing me to cry out in pleasure.

“Are you going to cum for me princess? Cover my dick in cum?” 

I feel the coil tighten again, my eyes squeezing shut as I finally feel it snap, my body flooding with tingles as I cum all over Billy’s dick, my legs trembling as moans and profanities fall from my lips. I feel Billy’s thrusts grow sloppy as he reaches his high, cumming inside of me. 

Billy trails kisses from the top of my ass to my shoulder. 

“Happy Anniversary Princess.” Billy whispers, kissing my neck as he shuffles out of the car to adjust his clothing. 

I shuffle around in the car, wiggling my skirt back down and fixing my body suit as I step out of the car into the slight breeze of summer air. 

“I am still mad at you a little.” I mumble as Billy tuts, shaking his head. 

“Of course you are.” 

“But, that did make up for a little part of it.” I wink as Billy smirks, cupping my face and kissing me. My heart fills with love at the soft affectionate side of Billy.

“I love you Y/N.” 

“I love you too.” 

“I better get you home before your dad loses his shit at me.” Billy chuckles as I nod. 

“Sneak up through the window and spend the night?” I ask as I get into the passenger seat, Billy having made his way to the drivers side. I watch as Billy tosses up the idea as I smirk, placing my hand on his knee. 

“I haven’t been able to give you anything for our anniversary yet.” I whisper as my hand moves up his thigh, brushing against his dick as his breathing grows heavy. 

“You have me wrapped around your finger princess and you know it.” Billy smirks as he starts the car and begins the drive to my home. 

It’s going to be a sleepless night. 

[bakubabes-tatakae]

Request by anon: Omg you do write for him! In that case could I ask for a scenario where Yato and the reader are just cuddling and one thing leads to another and they end up having some passionate love making so then they just keep with the cuddling skin against skin? 👀🔥

It's been a really long time since I've written anything for Yato, but I'll say I forgot how much I loved to write for him. I hope you like it bby. 👏♥

Movies & Chill || {NSFW} Yato x fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, 18+ content, dirty talk, offensive language (swearing)

Word Count: 1.3k

The first thing that the two of you always did when Yukine was gone was a movie marathon. It was so rare that Yato got to pick what movie he wanted to watch when Yukine and yourself usually always sided together. As he popped the movie in the DVD player and ran back to the bed he wore a large smile, larger than you had seen in a long time.

Yato jumped onto the bed, shaking you and the bowl of popcorn that he had expressed the importance of having. He grabbed the remote and the bowl of popcorn and began to eat, watching the previews with excitement that you would have guessed had been from a child.

As the movie started you glanced over at him, wanting to settle yourself in the spot on his shoulder, but noticing that the bowl of popcorn was in your way. When he reached for the remote you took your moment, gripping the bowl of popcorn quickly and moving it to the nightstand. As he moved his hand to reach into it and felt your body glued to him instead, he was a little shocked. “I… Y/n, where’d the popcorn go?”

Your face went from a grin to narrowed eyes as you playfully whined at him. “Forget the popcorn, just let me cuddle with you, please?”

Yato softened when he saw the pleading look on your face. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in. “Yea, yea. I’ll forget it for now, but only because I want to curl up with you.”

You curled into him more, getting as close to him as you could before looking back up at him. “Yato…”

You were met with a teasing shush as the movie played, his eyes full of love as he looked down at you. “What’s the matter, angel?”

Instead of answering him, you pushed your lips out, wrapping your hand around his head. Your lips touched his and you had half expected him to push away, wanting to watch the movie and not fool around. In your shock, Yato was more intrigued by your kiss than you had expected. His lips danced with your own, his tongue pushing for entrance as he found his body moving.

You felt his hands move to your body as he slowly turned, his body hovering over your own as his hands pinned you down. “This is why you wanted to cuddle with me, isn’t it?” He teased as he placed small kisses down your cheek to your chin. “You know that cuddling with me always ends in sex, princess.”

You felt his hands sliding between your legs as he slowly pushed his way into your shorts. It had never been a secret that Yato had been good with his hands, though they were rough and calloused from his years of fighting, they were exceptional once they made their way through your shorts. You whined as his fingers slowly rubbed against your folds, finding their way to your core with ease. He stroked your walls slowly and spoke softly. “Come on darling, was this what you were waiting for?”

You whined, not able to make sentences as he quickened his pace. Your hands moved to his body, gripping tightly as your hips began to grind against his fingers. He chuckled as he watched your needy figure. “Baby girl, did you need me this badly?” He pulled his fingers away, the sensation of pleasure leaving you as you cried out. “Let me give you something that’s going to satisfy you just a little more than those will.” He gripped the waistband of your shorts and pulled them down your legs with ease, tossing them to the side as he pulled his shirt over his head. You quickly pulled your own shirt, tossing it where he had just discarded his.

The sound of his belt coming undone filled the room as the ache in your loins grew more and more. You needed him, you had never wanted him this badly before. Maybe it was the fact that Yato had been more dominating than he ever had been before. Usually, he was a laydown and let you take over type of guy, rarely ever caring if you were in charge or not. Yato quickly kicked his pants and boxers off his legs, letting them fall off the end of the bed.

Hi took his length in his hands and pumped, watching you already squirming underneath him, anticipating his entrance. Yato lined himself up with your core and slowly pushed into you, just barely letting himself in, before pulling back out again. He was playing with you, loving the look on your face as you tried desperately to grab him and pull him further. Your voice was high-pitched and needy as he pushed into you again. “P-please, Yato.”

Yato smiled at you, pushing further into you, filling your walls with his girth. Your sounds were like music to his ears as he kept his pace slow, only speeding up the more that your nails dug into his back. “Now, now, keep yourself calm, angel. Wouldn’t want to end this too quickly, now would we?”

You pulled his body as close to you as you could, his cock hitting every wall that it possibly could. Yato’s grunts filled the room as they mixed with the blissful moans that escaped your mouth.

Yato whispered to you as his pace quickened. “I’m so close darling, not much longer now.”

You placed your hands on his face and pressed your lips to his. His hips were now moving as quickly as he could get them, chasing his high with reckless abandon.

You could feel the coil in your abdomen about to snap as his cock bottomed out inside your core, the heat in your stomach growing more and more. “F-fuck, Yato.”

His words were soft and low as he brought you to your release. “Come for me, angel. Go ahead, suffocate my cock.”

That was all it took. Your walls convulsed around him, and his face contorted at the feeling of it. Your quivering cunt clenched around his length as he rode out his high, emptying himself out inside your tight walls. Yato placed a soft kiss on your forehead and rolled back over onto his side of the bed.

You caught your breath as you looked back over at him, glancing at the tv a second later. “I think we might have missed the beginning of that?”

Yato laughed in amusement at your comment, rolling toward you as he wrapped you in his arms. The feeling of his soft skin against your own made a shiver run down your spine. You couldn’t remember the last time that the two of you had been this close. “I’d say we did.” He reached for the remote and restarted the movie, tucking you into his arms. Yato ran a hand through your hair and pressed his chin against your head. “Maybe this time we just cuddle and actually watch the movie?”

You smiled at him and nodded in agreement. “I’d love to. I just want to be with you Yato, that’s all I ever want.”

The movie began again, the first few minutes had been the only thing that you had remembered from before. Sitting in Yato’s arms had felt safe, like nothing was going to ever harm you. You wrapped an arm around the back of you, playing with the end of his hair as he cooed at your touch. His voice almost jumped you, you had thought he was too enveloped in the movie to say anything. “I love you.”

You grinned like an idiot, knowing that he would have known that you were without even being told or seeing it. He took a deep breath and leaned farther into you. “I love you, too, Y/n.”

Taglist: @monic00l @strangeinternetwasteland @rowley-with-ackerman @kyu-pine @barrysimpparker @saudade-mayari @nikiniki743 @mykuronekome @gudaworks

©2021 bakubabes-hatake, please do not repost/modify without my permission, please do not use my work as ASMR without my permission

[satinsumu]

favour. || oikawa t.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: MINORS DNI, f!reader, explicit sex, oral sex, fingering, virginity loss, dirty talk, creampie

summary: your friend, the good samaritan oikawa, does you a favour by taking your virginity—a little too willingly.

a/n: written in one sitting on a whim and did not proofread lol please i loooove the first time trope

oikawa stares at you in disbelief, his warm, chocolate eyes wide and fixated on you.

“what?” you sigh, starting to regret casually mentioning that you’d never actually slept with anyone before. “why is that such a surprise to you? is it really such a bad thing?”

“no,” he quickly says, regathering his composure. “you’re just so cute, i’d expect a line of guys waiting to get at you.”

“they are,” you laugh teasingly, the sound causing his heart to flutter. “doesn’t mean i’d want to fuck them though—didn’t you tell me not to settle?”

“of course!” oikawa exclaims, a look of what appears to be slight relief washing across his face. “but you never got curious? just tried it even once?”

“it’s kind of scary,” you admit nonchalantly, never keeping secrets from your friend. “men are scary, honestly. you never know if they’re just gonna hit it and quit it.”

“yeah, your first time should definitely be with someone who cares about you,” he nods, throat feeling oddly dry.

you sigh in a way that says, i’ll-never-find-someone-like-that-so-why-even-bother?

oikawa licks his lips, and contemplates his next question.

“you always have me,” he chirps, a sickening sweet smile plastered across his face. “if you want your first time to be good, guaranteed.”

you want to smack him and tell him to stop joking, but the way your heart skips a beat tells you that this might just be all you ever wanted. and with the way he’s eagerly waiting your response, hiding behind the charming grin you know so well, you get a feeling that this could be something more than just a little favour he’s offering to do.

and that’s how you ended up in his room just one night later, the prettiest (but not overdone) lingerie set under your skirt and your hoodie as oikawa locks his door—not that he needs to.

he makes his way over to the side of his king-sized bed as you take a seat on the mattress, him towering over you with a casual smile on his face.

though, it feels like there’s something else to it. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think the great oikawa tooru, breaker of hearts, was nervous.

“so!” he chirps, clapping his hands together as his eyes linger on your thighs pressed against the blankets for a second too long. “is there anything off-limits?”

“uh,” you think for a moment, interlocking your fingers. “no anal.”

“no problem,” he hums with a nod. “anything else?”

“not really,” you say, fidgeting in place. this is so weird. “i guess i’ll just tell you if something comes up.”

“okay,” he agrees, unzipping his jacket as he tosses it onto the chair beside his desk. “one more thing—are you on the pill?”

“yeah?” you answer, tilting your head at him, the gears in your mind turning just a bit more slowly than his.

“cool. just wondering,” oikawa chuckles, eyes glimmering at you.

and with that, he closes the remaining space between your faces, locking his lips with yours and taking you by surprise. your eyes flutter shut instinctively, although you gasp into his mouth at the gesture.

oikawa takes the opportunity to slip his tongue between your teeth, swirling it around your own before biting your lower lip gently. 

you pull away briefly, short of breath at the unexpected kiss, eyes displaying a mixture of shock and confusion, though not unhappiness.

“kissing is important,” oikawa shrugs, face glowing with a bit too much content. 

he pulls you in by the nape of the neck once more, kissing you gently, but passionately. you slowly release the tension in your furrowed brows as you wrap an arm around his neck, unable to get enough of his minty breath, and the way he sucks at your tongue.

his hand slowly travels down from your cheek to the bottom of your hoodie, tugging at it once to gesture for you to let him take it off. you break the kiss for another moment as he hauls the article of clothing over your head, his eyebrow raising at the sight of you wearing nothing but a bra underneath.

“what’s the point in wearing a shirt if i’m just gonna take it off anyway?” you mumble, cheeks feeling hot under his gaze.

“you look pretty,” he beams at you.

you’re so flustered by his compliment—you two are just “friends,” after all—that you don’t notice the tent forming in his grey sweatpants.

before you can say anything in response, oikawa is crashing his lips against yours once more, this time with fervor, hunger, and desire. you struggle to keep up with the pace he’s set, occasionally panting in between kisses as he slips a hand into the cup of your bra.

you gasp at the contact, his hand slightly cold against your warm skin while he just smiles sweetly at you, gently pushing you down against his mattress by the shoulders. he leans back down to lock his lips with yours while still kneading your breast with one hand, the other pressed against the headboard above you. you don’t even noticed that he’s unclasped your bra and tossed it aside.

the area between your thighs begins to feel slightly warmer than before as you rub your legs together, taken aback by the sensation. oikawa pulls away from you for a second to take his shirt off, and you feel your heart lodge itself in your throat at the sight of his torso; his tan, muscular build is really something straight out of a magazine (literally).

“like what you see?” he smirks teasingly as you look away, but he uses one hand to turn your head back towards him. “eyes on me, baby.”

it’s in that moment you feel like you’re finally seeing the oikawa tooru that everyone else sees: the charismatic, experienced lady magnet that you’ve never even given the time of day.

a breath escapes you at the intimacy, but returns to your lungs in gasps once oikawa leans in to tower over you, his broad shoulders casting a shadow above your head. he begins trailing kisses down from your lips to your jawline, to your neck and your chest, then to each breast as he takes one of your nipples gently between his teeth.

“o-oika—” you stutter, squirming at the sensitivity, but he doesn’t stop.

“call me tooru when we’re in bed,” he enunicates, swirling his wet tongue around the bud. he can’t help but smirk at how cute you look, all hot and bothered underneath him.

the sensation of his saliva against the tip of your skin makes your heart pound, and it’s almost hard to focus on which breast feels better when he’s kneading the other one with his large, strong hands. 

you find yourself running your fingers through his hair as your eyes squeeze shut, the softness of his head oddly comforting as he continues to nip at your skin.

but the comfort doesn’t last for long.

you feel his lips leave your chest as they begin to travel further and further down, the trail of kisses left along your belly indicating exactly where he’s going. he hikes your skirt up to your waist with a flick of his wrist, marveling at the matching underwear you’re wearing beneath it.

“wow, just for me?” he coos, licking his lips. “i’m honoured.”

you wrack your brain for some sort of witty remark to wipe the shit-eating grin  off his face, but he plunges his hand between your thighs and draws a long, slow line against the thin cloth over your cunt before you can say anything.

“o-oikawa!” you cry, flinging your head against his pillow at the shock he just sent through your body. it was sudden, but... pleasurable.

“i told you,” he murmurs, gazing at you with dark eyes. “call me tooru.”

his last sentence comes out like a threat once you feel his finger slide up and down your underwear faster, the contact against your folds driving you crazy. you feel the fabric grow slightly damp as it gets wetter with every teasing stroke of his hand, and you know he can feel it too.

“feel good, princess?” he chuckles, unable to tear his eyes off of your flustered face while you give him small nods, too embarrassed to look at him. he pushes the middle section of your panties to the side with ease and slides a finger into you slowly, your arousal making it smooth for him to do so.

“so diiiirty,” he hums at the way your breath hitches, and the way his digits squelch against your juices. “and all i’ve done is put a finger in you.”

“f-feels good, tooru,” you breathe, looking at him with half-lidded eyes. oikawa feels himself get much harder at your reassurance, pride swelling up in his chest.

he hasn’t even fucked you properly yet.

“it better,” he grins cheekily. he slips another finger into you, moving in and out with languid motions so you can feel every bit of him as he curls his fingers upwards. 

you gasp at the way he seems to hit a spot inside you that feels a bit different than before, but whine once you feel him pull his fingers out.

“what’re you—ah!”

before you can finish your question, oikawa’s ducked his head between your legs, licking your juices up from your folds. he pulls the panties off of you before spreading your legs wide open and holding your thighs down firmly, the hem of your skirt resting gently against his head as he eats you out.

“oh my god, oh my god,” you pant, seeing stars in your eyes. you can’t believe oikawa tooru has his tongue in your cunt, licking up and down, teasing your clit like his life depends on it.

your hands grip the sheets in fistfuls as you stare at the ceiling, biting your bottom lip so hard you think it might bleed.

oikawa takes the small bud between your folds with his mouth and sucks, before dragging his tongue around it and licking your arousal off of your skin.

“mm,” he breathes into you, his voice muffled from below. “taste so... good...”

your juices are flowing onto his face as he laps it up relentlessly, his tongue sending spasms of pleasure through your body. a coil begins to build itself in your core, and you think you’re going to snap if he keeps going at this rate.

but the next second, the contact is gone.

“w-wait,” you whine, seeing oikawa get up from the edge of the bed.

oikawa doesn’t even bother hiding his amusement.

“don’t worry, i’ll let you cum tonight,” he reassures you, pulling down his sweatpants and revealing the huge bulge in his boxers. “just not with my mouth—not this time.”

your eyes widen at his size as he drags his remaining undergarments off, his cock springing out from beneath.

it looks big. and hard. 

like it’s swollen, and intimidating. you’re not sure if the veins along the side or the overall size make you more uneasy.

although oikawa seems to get a nice little ego boost from expression as he chuckles, “it’ll fit.”

you’re reminded of how he immediately deprived you of pleasure just now, and pout at him.

“just hurry uuuuup.”

“didn’t take you for an impatient one,” he laughs, leaning over you as he plants one hand beside your head, and gives his aching member a few good pumps with the other. “are you ready?”

you give him a small nod, biting your lower lip as he presses the tip of his cock against your folds. you feel a little tingle from the contact as you wrap your arms around his neck, perhaps out of desire for some comfort.

he slowly slides himself into you, pausing to let you adjust to his size as you hold your breath, before bottoming out and stretching you wide open. you squeeze your eyes shut at the foreign sensation, though it’s not unpleasant.

“doing okay?” he murmurs in your ear, to which you give him a small nod, still practically hugging him to your body. “i’m gonna start moving.”

you feel the sides of his cock drag along your walls inch by inch as he slowly pulls out of you, until the throbbing tip is just barely in between your folds. then, without warning, he thrusts himself deep inside you.

“ah!” you cry out, clinging onto him for dear life, but never telling him to stop. it feels good being clenched around him, your bodies so close together and fitting within each other like puzzle pieces. 

“fuck,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “you’re so damn tight.”

he slides himself out of you again and repeats the action, slowly gathering more speed until he’s really fucking you at a set tempo. 

you feel his hips snap against yours as he pulls himself in and out of you at a rapid pace, the mild discomfort slowly turning into pleasure.

“t-o-o-ru,” you gasp, your words split up with each of his thrusts into your body as you dig your nails into his skin.

“right here, baby,” he grunts, rutting into you with continuous force. “that feel good?”

“y-yeah,” you pant in his ear as he grips the headboard tightly, not giving a damn if the neighbours can hear the wood knocking against their wall. “f-feels so, ngh! good!”

“you’re so fucking tight,” he mutters, pulling out and slamming his throbbing cock back inside you, watching your body move back and forth on the bed with every one of his motions. “and you take my cock so well.”

he slides himself out of you briefly as you blink at the loss of contact, barely able to process what’s happening before he flips your body over.

“get on all fours,” he orders, with surprising authority—and need.

“i thought i said no anal,” you remark, though already getting into the position he wanted.

“relax,” oikawa smiles at you, tracing a finger slowly down your spine and onto your ass cheek, giving it a squeeze that sends tingles through your body.

your body twitches once you feel him rub the head of his cock against your folds, still wet from your arousal. he inserts himself back into your aching cunt that was tired of clenching around nothing, a new wave of pleasure washing over you.

“a-ah...” you moan, tossing your head back at the new sensation. you back yourself into him as you feel oikawa put both of his large hands on your body,  gripping your waist.

and once he starts to move, you know it won’t be long before you cum.

he’s thrusting himself into you mercilessly now, his cock so deep inside of your wet cunt that you feel like he’s literally rearranging your guts. 

“that’s it, baby,” he grunts with each snap of his hips. “doing so good.”

the pleasure is overwhelming as he hits a spot inside you that you didn’t even know could feel this way.

“tooru!” you cry, tears brimming your eyes at how hard he’s slamming his dick inside you, overcome with how fucking good it feels. “d-don’t stop.”

“i won’t until you cum,” he growls in your ear, leaning over so his chest is pressed against your sweaty back. “you gonna be a good girl and cum for me?”

you nod furiously as you bite your lip, small dribbles of saliva leaking out of your mouth at how good he’s fucking you. god, you look so angelic, wearing nothing but a tiny skirt, ass perked up just for him while he rails you into tomorrow.

“g-gonna cum,” you whimper at the same familiar coil building in your core from earlier as oikawa thrusts faster and faster, your tits bouncing back and forth as they hang above the mattress.

“cum for me, princess,” oikawa grates, barely holding onto his own orgasm with how tight you are around him. “taking my cock so well, letting me fuck you so good.”

“tooru-ah! tooru!” your cries of his name fill the room with the lewd slapping sounds of his balls against your ass, the unbelievable speed he’s ramming into you at on the cusp of desperation.

“let me see you fucking cum,” he curses, moving one hand between your thighs to play with your sensitive clit. the pleasure sears through your body as your vision grows slightly hazy from the stimulation. “cum on my cock, baby.”

“w-want you to cum inside,” you breathe, not sure of how much you can last longer. you don’t need to ask twice as he rubs fast circles with his slender fingers against your clit, cock still thrusting in and out of you with incomparable speed. “a-ah! t-tooru, i’m gonna c-cum!”

you feel the coil inside you snap as your walls clamp down against his cock, your juices flowing out of your cunt and down your thighs as oikawa continues grinding against you.

“f-fuck,” he curses, giving you one last, deep, hard thrust as you feel the tip of his cock touch your cervix, groaning as he chases his own orgasm right after yours. he’s still hugging you close to his body as you feel his warm seed spill inside you, the white fluids trickling onto the bed sheets in a mixture with your own.

you’re gasping, out of breath as oikawa pulls himself out of you, the two of you flopping onto the bed together. you lay in the quiet of each other’s pants, staring at the ceiling.

frankly, you’re still in a bit of disbelief over what just happened—you just let oikawa tooru, your friend, fuck you on his bed and take your virginity.

he made you cum. and made you beg for him—willingly.

“how’d it feel?” oikawa asks after a few seconds, breaking the silence with his familiar smile.

“good,” you admit with a giggle as oikawa turns his head to you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“wanna go again?”

[book-of-baba-fett]

Passing Time - Hunter x Fem!Reader

In between jobs on Ord Mantell, you meet a mysterious man named Hunter who’s more than willing to help you kill some time.

AO3 link

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, bar hookup, oral sex (fem receiving), thigh riding, vaginal and anal fingering, light degradation, light spitting, light biting

Notes: hit 99 followers on the same day as The Bad Batch finale so I thought of a little Hunter smut as a treat. This was my take on@delusionsxfgrandeur ‘s Redefining smut challenge!

Word Count: 2.2k

Cid’s bar is as seedy as ever, with grime covering every surface including the glass you’re drinking from. You examine the glass, twirl around the brown liquor, then pour it down your throat figuring the alcohol must work as a disinfectant. You just finished a drop off for Cid and are hanging tight while your astromech works on some maintenance for your ship. The droid was going to comm you once everything was flight ready for your next job, but for now you’re trying to to find the best way to way to kill time. And the ache in between your legs reminds you that you can’t even remember the last time you had a good fuck.

Scanning the room, you realize there’s not much to work with. Just a weequay and an ithorian, both obviously intoxicated as they argue over a game in the corner. Otherwise the place is empty, except for a man sitting on the other edge of the bar. By the Republic issue armor he wore, you could assume he was a clone but he was unlike any clone you had seen before. There were some basic facial similarities, but he wasn’t identical to is countless counterparts. He had long dark hair, that curled to his neckline, kept away from his face by a red bandana. What captures your eyes is the skull tattoo covering half his face; you can’t help but lick your lips when you wonder how far it goes down his body.

“Hey Cid,” you wave down the Trandoshan. “Another round for me, and a drink for the man down the end of the bar too.”

“Huh, Dark and Broody?” Cid questions you, a confused and judgmental look on her face. “Sheesh, kid, I guess everyone has their own type but fine.”

Cid hands the drink to the man, who looks around the bar surprised until his eyes found you. He cocks a brow, and he lifts the drink up to you. You mirror his movements and you each take a sip at the same time. He slowly rises from the seat and stalks his way towards you.

“So you must be Dark and Broody?” You extend your hand to him. The man let’s our a soft chuckle.

“Did Cid tell you to say that?” His low and husky voice asks before he properly introduces himself “It’s Hunter, and I must say you don’t seem like Cid’s usual clientele.”

“Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.” You smirk at him. He must be another bounty hunter under Cid’s employment, you think as you notice how armed he is. He leans on the counter next to you, and you don’t fail to notice the way his eyes drift up and down your body. If he’s in your line of work, maybe he’s in the same need for some relief as you are. You shift in your seat, painfully aware of your growing arousal as you and Hunter make small talk. You had your fair share of lovers, but there was something about his magnetic ruggedness that intrigued you. That and the fact that he seems reluctant to give you any information about himself, but that wasn’t too uncommon in your line of work. But you don’t need his life story, you just need him to satisfy your itch.

“So how’s the men’s room here?” You ask.

“I’m sorry, what?” Ahh, it seems you’ve broken his tough guy facade to earn a flustered look on his face.

“The men’s room,” you repeat. “The last time I was here the women’s door wasn’t working properly and when you closed it you were locked in or you had to keep the door open. And I’m really looking for some privacy and no interruptions, so I’m curious if the men’s room will work.”

You down the rest of your drink, licking your lips as you finish, carefully keeping eye contact with him as you do. You watch his face process your words, his pupils expanding in his dark eyes and the corner of his lips on his tattooed side rises as he realizes your meaning.

“I think it’ll do just fine, I can show you the way?”

“What a gentleman,” you tease, taking his hand.

***

Your hands are on each other the second the door closes behind you. His grip on your plush ass, pulling you tighter to him. Yours find their way through his curls, tugging his hair as his mouth meets yours in a needy kiss. His large hands travel up your curves, until they reach your head and cup your face as he pulls back from the kiss.

“Such a dirty little thing aren’t you?” He rasps out. “Going into a filthy bar bathroom with a man you don’t even know?”

“What can I say? I like things a little messy.” You glance at him through heavy lashes as you grind against his codpiece.

“Open your mouth.” He orders, the deep tone in his voice going straight to your core, where you already feel your arousal dripping from you. You follow his command, just for him to spit in your eagerly awaiting hole. He groans as you close your mouth and swallow it. You bring your lips back to his as you make out with him again.

One of his hands leaves your face so it can trail down your waist and under your top, roughly groping your breast. You let out a soft moan into his mouth as his thumb flicks over your nipple. You feel him smirk against you, as he adjusts his ministrations so he’s lightly pinching your pebbled nipple. Your head involuntarily tilts back at the please and his mouth connects with your now open neck, his teeth nipping at your sensitive skin.

You stumble backwards under his exploring hands, your back hitting the bathroom door behind you. Hunter uses this to his advantage, and grabs hold of your hip with one hand while the other continues its squeezing of your breast. He brings a leg in between yours and presses it against the apex of your thighs. You cry out as you finally have some friction against your aching core. You instinctively grind on his thigh; the crease of his armor and the seam on your pants combining to rub against your clit in the most addicting way that you can’t stop yourself. Your hands reach to his shoulders as you balance yourself against him.

Hunter watches, eyes blown out in lust, as you use him to chase your own needs. The hand on your hip assists your movements, making you gyrate faster and faster into the man. Moans are rolling off your lips, and your head snaps back against the wall as you feel the tightening coil of an approaching orgasm in your stomach.

Hunter bends down to nibble at your earlobe, his warm breath panting against your skin as he whispers, “Such a sexy thing, riding my thigh to get yourself off. You’re almost there, aren’t you? Dirty little slut. “

You whimper against him, your eyes shutting so you can focus on your impending climax. A harsher bite on your neck makes you yelp, and your eyes snap open to see Hunter staring at you.

“I asked you a question, be a good girl and answer me."

Your mind stutters for a moment before his harsh gaze reminds you of what he asked you. “Yes... I’m so close!” You gasp out at him, as you continue humping his leg. He smirks as his smoky eyes stay locked your face, watching every reaction as you build to your peak.

“Go on them, cum for me.” You cry out on his order, and his mouth clamps down on yours so he can muffle the sound to avoid being discovered by the few patrons in the bar. Your orgasm rolls through your body, your hips unrelenting in their thrusting on Hunter’s thigh as you ride out the waves of bliss. Once your movement slows, Hunter pulls back from kissing you to examine you in your post ecstatic state. Chest heaving, cheeks flushed and eyes drooping; you’re the sexiest thing he’s seen in a long time. And he wants to make you do it again.

He removes his gloves as he shifts his thigh out from under you, making you slump against the wall. You sigh, feeling him drag a hand over your covered center. He groans, feeling the wetness seeping through your pants from your previous orgasm. His fingers fumble with your buttons, then he roughly pulls the pants down and over your ankles. He presses his face against your panty covered mound, inhaling deeply as he’s intoxicated by your arousal. Looking back up at you, he licks a long strip over your panties, circling around your hidden clit. You moan from the overstimulation as you grip the door handle behind you, your legs still feeling like jelly and struggling to hold you up.

Sensing your predicament, Hunter slides your panties down your legs and removes them, tossing them in the pile with your pants. He then props one of your legs over his shoulder and presses a hand against your abdomen to hold you upright.

His warm breath wafts against your sensitive skin as he separates your folds with two thick fingers. His tongue slowly peaks out, teasing your swollen clit with delicate flicks. You groan as you feel the warm wetness of him lapping up the release of your previous orgasm. Once he’s sure you’re past the point of overstimulation and ready to go again, he attacks with more fervor.

Your head snaps to the wall again as he starts devouring you with a renewed intensity, his lips closing around your clit as his tongue rapidly circles and flicks it. He switches up the rapid movements with broad, strong strokes against your pussy, making your hips arch into his face to push more pressure from him. He hums into you as you moan above him, the vibrations adding to the euphoric sensation of his tongue against you. He’s a quick study to your body, following any hitch of your breath or moan to follow what you like and return to those sweet spots over and over again as he enjoys you.

You feel a prodding at your entrance as he pokes one large finger into you, your hips keening against him as you allow him to push deeper into you. With a gasp, you feel him add a second finger into your tingling pussy. He groans, watching your cunt grip his fingers as he pushes them in and out of you.

“So wet for me, mesh’la.” He growls dipping his head back to lap at your clit while he fingers you. Matching the pace of his hand and mouth, you feel the tension of another orgasm building up. His fingers crook inside you, pressing against that hard to reach spongy spot inside you.

“Yes, right there!” You cry out, begging him not to stop. He focuses on hitting that spot with every thrust of his hand. He brings his other hand around to your ass, squeezing your cheek and bringing you closer to him to ravage. Your breath leaves your body in wanton moans as he brings you closer and closer to the edge again. The hand on your ass slides inward, until you feel a single finger circling around your other entrance.

“Hunter!” You yelp as the finger pokes in, teasing along your sensitive entrance. Your head flops down so you meet his eyes, a devilish, lustful darkness taking over them as he continues eating you out while fingering both of your holes. His pace in in your cunt increases, finger bending and stroking you just where you need him as he wrenches your orgasm out of you.

Toes curling, head snapping back, and eyes rolling into your head: you cry out. Your body tenses, your legs quake and you would fall over if it were not for him holding you up. Your pussy pulses as you release, the waves of ecstasy overpowering your body. Hunter works you through your release, removing the hand from your ass to keep you steady. He softly laps at your folds and slows the push of his fingers in you until he feels your walls stop pulsing then he removes them.

He rises off his knees to kiss you, his mouth glistening with a mixture of your release and his own spit. You lean into the kiss, one much softer than the ones that started you escapades. You curse to yourself when you notice your comm going off.

“That important?” Hunter grumbles against your skin, his lips dragging along your cheek.

You groan, realizing it’s your droid letting you know your ship is ready to go. “Sadly, it is.” You had wasted to much time before starting your next job. You look at him with apologetic eyes, your previous experiences with men leading you to think he might be angry about your lack of reciprocation. To your surprise, he grins and holds up his hands as he steps away.

“No worries, I get it. Duty calls.” He hands you your pants from off the ground, you mumble your thanks, looking around for your underwear when you realize he’s twirling them in his fingers. He smirks at you before he sniffs them and places them in a compartment on his belt. “Hey, if you want these back you’ll just have to find me next time you’re back on Ord Mantell.”

[starshipsofstarlord]

The Eyes Are Lined

Summary: whilst on the last days of set of filming the show where he plays Tommy Lee, Sebastian is greeted with a surprise guest in his trailer, and he is certainly not going to be one to complain whence he’s gets a treat as sweet as you

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of phone sex, oral sex (male + female receiving), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, p in v, degradation, spanking, daddy kink, teasing, fingering, pet names

Word Count: 4133

Masterlist Link

It fell from his lips as a relieved sigh, it had felt like forever since he had last seen you, and as he took in your form coiled in a baggy sweatshirt of his and hopefully nothing more, he was fast to close and lock the door behind himself. His tongue darted out to swipe the upon the underbite of his lip as he stepped slowly forwards in his adjourned flip flops, the wide shorts hanging off his legs. For this role he had very much diversified his appearance; lost weight, changed his hair, worn temporary tattoos - yet from the prowess that resonated through your eyes, nothing in the way of your attraction had changed.

“Sebba.” You greeted him with a wide smile, dismissing your phone that had been in your hand to the side of the couch, and crawling off the seat that you had taken up residence in. Instantly, your arms wrapped around his sleek torso, taking in the aroma of his deodorant that obliterated the senses through your nostrils. He pulled your face up with the grip of his heavy palm against your courteous cheek, as his breath fanned against the platter of your forehead.

“You’re here early, shooting doesn’t finish for another three days.” He stated, the grin that was tugging at his features clearly showing that he was anything but disappointed by your unspoken arrival. Tucking your arms to land around his waist like a belt that was enclosing him against you, you happily sighed, stroking your nose against the expanse of his bare chest that was beholden before you through the open curtains of his plain black hoodie. For a moment your eyes flickered down to the fake piercings that were strung like light fixtures from his nipples, watching as the silver metal beamed in contrast to the bulb that was fixed into the ceiling.

“I wanted to surprise you, it feels like forever since we were that close.” Was your confessing admission, as you pressed a warm kiss upon his revealed flesh, causing him to hum in acknowledgement of the amorous act. “Though I’m happy that god awful shadow is gone from your chin, if you want hair there then I suggest that you grow your beard back out.” You stroked your thumb over the crescent of his chin, running the pad through the indent as he inwardly cocked his brow, stiffening his jaw at your straight opinion.

“What’d you think of everything else? Be honest now darling.” He clicked his tongue, staring down at you with his smokily framed eyes, as you coiled back into your shoulders so that you could get a better overall viewpoint of him, as your hands descended to cupping the inward joints of his elbows. You balanced your weight on both of your feet, juggling between them to remain sturdy as you felt the mood in the trailer punctually shift, as though you were crossing through the mysterious channel that inhabited the Bermuda Triangle.

“Hmmm, well I’m rocking for the eyeliner, it really makes your eyes stand out more than they already do. And you know I’ve always been an absolute sucker for the longer hair, but I’m a sucker for you in general.” At that suggestive statement, you casted a sultry wink at him, hoping that he caught onto the act rather than thinking you had something entrapped in the perimeter of your eye. It was not dust that had clogged upon your pupil, instead it were lust, gripping onto the very image of him. It had been months, long ones at that since the pair of you had seen each other.

All the intimacy that your relationship confined in its long distance was dealt with over the phone, never once did the space that his work divulged the two of you apart make you feel lonely, he tried his utmost to ensure that you were comfortable even with miles for what seemed like an eternity separating you. The cellular contact that immersed your spare time furloughed for both late night calls that brought an innocent lovesick smile to resort upon the spectating image of your face that was reflected through the front camera of your phone, and sexual conducts that travelled across the countries that you were both in to bring you closer and alternatively higher together, in a blissful reunion that swamped your head with hyperactive hormones that followed after your mutual orgasms.

“Naughty.” He condoned you for your filthy innuendo, his hand cascading down the artwork of your body, and moving behind you, so that his fingertips were dancing upon the crown of your exempt ass cheek. “Guess all that time away has gotten you desperate for me, huh? Do you want to some sucking up to me? I’ve had a pretty hard day, and it would help me relieve a bunch of the stress that depends on these last few days. Not to mention I am so pent up from not seeing you all this time, it was practically torture honey bee, I’m not even sure how I survived.”

Dragging his head down to meet with your own, you pressed luscious and. Extended pecks onto his thin lips,having missed them covering every inch o your skin with the love that swelled in his chest and other places for you. “I don’t even know if you’ll last that long Bas, its been a certain while of you solely using your hand.” A giggle reaped from your throat as your hearing absorbed the gasp that slithered out of his mouth; he playfully pushed down upon the line of your shoulders, only enhancing your amusement by doing so. “So pushy.”

“That is right, and I will only get rougher with you the longer that it takes you to get down on your knees for me, so I would think logically. After all, after I completely wrap on this show, I’m going to have all the spare one in the world to put you in your little place and stop you from being a disobedient little brat.” It was a promise, he was threatening you in the most sexual way possible, and you’d be lying if you were to say that some aroused nectar hadn’t gathered in the passage that divided your highs down the middle. You gulped, intimacy written in every speck of your irises as you lowered yourself to be poised on your thighs, your face near the tent forming at his crotch.

The material of his shorts gathered with creases as his cock grew beneath the baggy subject that defined his legs that much more. A hand ravelled through your locks as you found yourself darting your tongue out to caress his legs, moving your muscle upwards as your hands teased the waistband of the barrier that prevented you from seeing all of him. “How much have you missed me baby, let daddy know.” Lightly, he begs to roll his hips forwards, pressing his erection teasingly against your face, and you were loving every second of it. His balls were pressing against your chin on every mimic forwards, and as you tried to speak, your voice was a tiny bit muffled by them.

“So much Sebby, I hated being apart from you.” You thought that would be a good enough answer, but as his fingers threaded further through your hair, a quiet yelp ejected from your throat as he strayed you head to be leant upwards so that you were gazing into his domineering eyes. That was when you realised that you must have made a mistake, but no matter what it was, it was much too late to take it back. Sexual fear paved through your gaze as you poured, wanting nothing to get back to your journey of duty which was to suck his cock, however, you could not continue if Sebastian had other things, such as whatever you had done so wrongly plaguing his mind.

“Bitch no cause why did you pronounce my name wrong? It begins with your favourite letter; a D, remember? And now I’m not even sure that you deserve my D. Right now I am not your Sebastian, what am I little girl?” He growled down at you, his toes rigidly curling in the open toed shoes that he were sporting, his hand remaining tangled in your hair.

“Daddy.” You tried not to sob out of dismissal, and instead expedited for apologising to refrain from angering him any further. “I’m so sorry daddy, I’ll do anything. Anything to make it up to you, please, I’ll never make that mistake again.” Unless it was not in this scenario of course, the pebbles of your tears brought a vivid richness and innocence upon your face, as though you were pooling diamonds out of the windows of your explicit soul. And I’m return, you were met with the gift of Seb shoving his shorts to be draped over his feet, his cock playing the curve of a sail as it stiffened more so at the air that hit it.

“Are you wearing anything underneath that sweatshirt baby?” He enquired as his right hand held his length in hand, enclosing his fist around the warm flesh that was beading with visible emotion at the tip. It was as though a pearl was balancing on the sector of his slit, teasing you as you dryly licked your lips, wanting nothing more than to ingest that into your body. To answer his question, your hands toyed with the bottom of his clothing article, pulling it up so that he could see your bare abdomen, of which was dressed in nothing more than your flawless skin.

“No daddy, I’m not. Am I in more trouble for that?” You worried that you were, all that you had wanted to do was surprise him, and you felt yourself grow a little giddy as he slowly shook his head, and pull back the coat of his foreskin to flash off as much of his cock as possible. He was teasing you to the slyest of his abilities, he wanted to subject you into doing something against your better judgement, and you remained strong, no matter how much you wanted to coil your lips around the head of his member and take him as far as the hollow of your throat would naturally allow.

“No baby, imma let you off the hook for that because I haven’t seen you in so long and I know that pretty little cunt has missed me probably more than the rest of you, but don’t test me again angel, or on the plane home you’re gonna have to sit on a bag of ice.” A part of you wanted to smirk, to coyly piss him off to see if that perseverance were to be true, however if you knew Sebastian, and you knew him more than well, you wouldn’t put anything past him nor his motives. “Go on, I can see you practically drooling to take me in your mouth. Don’t tease or I’ll fuck your face; be a good girl would ya.”

You weren’t going to waste anymore time, for all that you aware, any one of the set assistants could take him away from you, and that possibility only fuelled your instincts further as you hovered your head away from his hand, that was now patting and gently playing with your locks instead of using them as a leash, and flickered your tongue out to swipe that sample of precum and swallow it without hesitation. Before your mind could comprehend it, your body had already taken the next steps forwards and started to swallow down his member, your lashes fluttering closed as you hummed, sending a rhythm through Sebastian’s body of which made him cuss.

He was looking through half lidded eyes, almost shutting them, though stopping from doing so when he noticed your hand creep down the smooth skin of your thigh, and pry at your own folds. He was going to reprimand you for being so confident that you weren’t going to get caught doing something that was so ludicrous, but he decided that he were to allow you to continue for a moment. If he made a scene after revelling in his own pleasure, then you would be more compliant with whichever punishment that he nailed you down with. The tips of your digits quivered around your lips, before sinking within your walls and the rest of your palm cupped your pussy.

It made more sense now you were moaning against him, for not only the taste of him that hung heavily on your tongue, but from the slip of power that you thought you had over him, even if it be cloaked in secrecy. As he thought more of that, he found himself starting to fume with an underlining of rage, his fists stiffened at his sides as he exhaled through a combination of the sensations rippling beneath his skin. It was a combination of brewing disappointment and foreseen arousal; his veins burned with both, turning his blood warm and drumming his brain with one thing - it were his birthright to make you submit before him.

And though you were positioned in front of him, cast to your knees as you worked on his hard cock with your heavenly mouth, your mind had slithered away from the laws that you were supposed to obey as you fingered yourself against and without his jurisdiction. To retain from speaking out just yet Seb put the pressure of his front teeth down upon his bottom lip, as he tuned his ears on the sounds of your mouth i taking his cock and slathering it with the natural lubricant of your saliva, and if he paid enough attention, the sound of your nimble fingers darting in and out of your entrance was echoed through the slick that was provided from your hormonal body, that coated your fingers and glistened underneath the lighting.

As he felt a spark approaching through the intermissions of his pleasured body, he found it to be best to direct you away, and exhibit distance despite having forgone with that flow for the time space that you hadn’t seen each other in. And thus he gently stepped back, allowing his cock to fall past your lips and a string of spit to be the only thing connecting you to it. It was an instinct for you to whine as you watched him take his cock back into his hand, giving himself a couple of easing tugs to cool himself down from his ruined orgasm.

And that was when all prevailed in realisation for you, that he continued to ogle at you from above as your index and middle fingers on your right hand remained inside of your cunt, and as your mind sparked some sense back into it, you instantly removed them despite the emptiness that attained within that area. Your eyes remained wide as you watched with caution as Seb took it upon himself to take a seat on the sofa that was below the blind strung window of his trailer, his hand temptingly patting his thick thighs as a means to convince you to move closer.

“Get up here you deviant minx.” It was not a sweet gesture that he were offering you, no, instead you were getting punished despite evading such a fate earlier on. Pushing yourself up from your knees, you went to lay yourself against him homely lap, however as you went to do so, he tugged at the sweatshirt that compiled a flush of heat against your addictive body, pulling it up a few inches to send you the message. Once you had completely removed the appeared and were dressed to the eye in nothing more than your naked flesh, that was when Sebastian allowed you to continue laying your stomach across his legs, as your own legs and breasts were draped either side of them.

His rough fingertips caressed the muscles of your back, making them twitch from rugged anticipation. They descended lower as he dug his knee into your ribs, enjoying the way that your breath hitched. “You know the rules angel, you don’t touch without permission, and yet you did. Do you have anything to say for yourself before I bruise this beautiful ass red and blue?” The worst thing was you could imagine how your cheeks would look all bruised up from the harsh strokes from his commanding hands; it had happened before and each and every time you’d tell yourself that it’d never happen again, that you’d avoid such intimate brutality because you’d behave.

But you both knew better than to trust those empty promises that wailed from your desperate throat as you were subjected to a pain that made your mind hazy and your throat parched. “No daddy, just that I’m sorry.” A yelp quickly followed after as he collided his hand down upon the fat of your behind, your entire body jolting as you shakily inhaled, knowing that in a few minutes that you’d get used to the pain and find it less surprising. The first strike was always the worst, and as another clapped down, followed by more and more, tears reigned the paving of your face as they spilt down your cheeks.

Your apology was simply a waver in the air, it did nothing other than tell him something that he’d heard a million times by this point. And when nothing added to the soreness of your bosom, you swore that you were in heaven, it continued to sting though as relief washed over your aura, and your lashes flickered through the fallen tears, slowly drying from the sobbing that they had commenced. “You took that well, okay.” Seb breathed, beginning to softly stroke your ass which made you whimper from the feather light pressure that digressed against the impact he had prohibited you to dwindle in. “I’m gonna reward you, think you can turn over baby?”

He slipped out from beneath you, allowing you to remain on your stomach for the moment until you had finally came up with your decision. You wriggled a little, stretching your toes as you hummed in reply and switched, despite the searing conundrum that resorted favour over your backside, onto the polar of your position, only to find your lover of whom was in control crawling towards you, the rings around his eyes looking sinful as he stared at your naked body as though you were his prey. His hands began to reel up your legs, coercing you into squirming against the cushioning that was managing to keep you at the same physical level as him, though the same couldn’t be said for the mental premise that rendered in interference of your relationship.

Hot air brushed upon your mound as he pressed a kiss to the hill that lead to the lake that was fawning at his close proximity, waves crashing and glistening to appeal to his ocean eyes. “Daddy, can you please do something?” A grunt differed from his throat as he inhaled the sea salt that subordinated his nose to the all natural scent, all before he nipped at the inside of your thigh before delving his face between the tightened proximity, sealing his mouth around your sensitive bud as he mumbled moans against your reactive flesh, earning himself a deeper invasion as you rutted your hips up to his face.

Sebastian Stan was a man of many talents; he could clearly mimic anyone that a script needed him to, but the one thing that he was truly magical at was using his mouth. It was a skill set that made you mercilessly comply to him, it was his superpower, which was indeed ironic considering that he played a hero in one of the world’s biggest franchises known to cinema. He raised his hands to grasp at your own as he trailed them into his strongly pigmented hair, giving you permission to ravel your hands through his straight hair, and feel the smooth sheen against the judge of your skin. You liked it, as you knew that you would.

Using his tongue, he pried at your entrance, sinking it within you as he began to shake his unruly head, extracting small screams from your throat as you became victim to his plentiful evidence of love. Your chest raised out in the air as your eyes rolled back, and a tweak pulled at your clit once more, and looking down, it revealed that it were your beloved tugging at the button with his teeth, as he gouged your reaction. When you reached your orgasm, he dived head first back into your emptying cavern, cleansing all that he had subdued from your body via his amazingly versed and performed sentiment.

“Taste so fucking good baby.” To prove his point, he clambered above you, slipping his lips against your own as he swabbed your tongue with his own, sharing your own juices so that you could feel them balance on your taste buds. His hand ran down your body as he pinched your hardened nipples, earning himself a withered and high pitched sigh from your mouth as he pulled away from the kiss. “Think you for another one in you angel? Daddy wants to fuck this sweet pussy, you okay with that?” A dazed nod gave him permission, though he grasped your jaw with his strong hand as he ensured that you stared back at him. “I need to hear you.”

“Yes, want your cock in me daddy. Always do.” A content smile used your mouth as it’s efficient puppet as he held onto his cock, and teased it around your folds, wetting his foreskin and other areas to make it more pleasurable for the both of you when he went to push in. And when he did, you felt like you had died and gone to heaven, it made you wonder how you ever survived going months without his touch, in any which way. Your hands held onto his hips as you steadied his weight, silently giving him the okay to start moving, and he did, he sunk within your cavernous walls, only to pull back and repeat the action. “Seb.” You breathed the shortened version of his name, the hot air leaving your mouth hitting his shoulder as he panted beside your face, his nose dragging up your cheek as you ran your hand down, cupping his balls and stroking them with the tender contact of your thumb.

For once under these circumstances, he did not shun you for saying his true name, instead he was too busy with the maddening rush that flew through his body as he fornicated with you. His pace increased, provoking the sound of flesh slapping upon flesh in the air as your thighs and hips clashed, amongst other parts. “Fuck sugar, ya close?” He asked you hurriedly, his forehead scrunching up as he felt immense pleasure as your cunt clenched around him, using his leverage to play with your clit once more. You ravenously nodded your head, dragging your nails over his body as you tried to jut your body up against his, chasing the approaching high which ultimately had you slumping against the cushions as he continued to pummel your body with his delivering thrusts.

“Shit.” He almost shouted, a soothing buzz ongoing in his body as he released his seed within you, you being able to feel every drop even after he pulled out and rolled to lay beside you, tugging you to be laying on his chest, neither of you caring for the cum that was escaping from your entrance that also happened to be the exit. “Why you laughing at me angel face?” Sebastian queried as he heard your cheeky sounds of amusement, a grin ruining the formation of his rocker disguise.

“You’re eyeliner’s all smudged.” You laughed, running the pad of your thumb beneath his eye and in the crows feet that dipped below, blending it further into his skin and giving it a grey hue to its ebony gradient. “You still look hot though.” You shrugged, nestling your head deeper into his chest, finally relieved that you and Sebastian were in the same place at the same time again.