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#I hope I get feeling back or else I can’t enjoy doing things like
maskedbyghost · 1 day
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lets continue our talk about situationship!Simon, where this bitch grovels for monthssss
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situationship!simon starts sending you text messages. before you could expect something like "you up?" or "come to my office.", but after you broke things off with him, simon started sending you heartfelt text messages, apologizing for his past behavior. “i’ve been thinking a lot about what happened between us,” he texted one night. “i realize now how much i hurt you, and i’m truly sorry, love. i understand if you need space, but i wanted you to know how much i regret everything.”
along with his messages, simon started sending you small but meaningful gifts. he remembered how you’d joked about his tea obsession once and that you’d mentioned you only liked chamomile. to your surprise, he found the best brand of chamomile tea and even packed it in a nice box before delivering it to your room.
he even started to open up more. during a late-night phone call, where you could clearly hear that he was drunk, simon said that he started seeing a therapist. “i’m workin on understandin my issues and changin for the better. i want to be better, not just for you love, but for myself. i hope you can see that i’m tryin to change.”
when you asked him to stop calling you love, he refused. “i can’t help it. you’re mine in a way no one else could be, and i don’t want to pretend otherwise.”
as simon keeps showing up with gifts and heartfelt messages, you can’t help but wonder if he’s being real or if he’s just trying to win you back before breaking your heart again.
you still go on dates with other people, and simon is tormented every time he sees you leaving the base in those pretty dresses—dresses he wishes were just for him. he follows you, quietly lurking in the corners of the restaurants or bars where you’re out with your dates. oddly enough, most of the guys you go out with either get transferred to another base or stop calling you after just one date, and you’re doing your best not to blame simon for it. but you know it's him. and he is not sorry at all.
almost every day, simon texts you, asking you out on dates and planning special things for the who of you. all you have to do is say yes, but each time, you refuse. it breaks his heart every time, but it also makes him more determined to try even harder. he knows he deserves this treatment from you.
back when you and simon used to train together on base, it was a special routine you both enjoyed. now, you’ve started asking other guys to help you with exercises, and it drives him wild with jealousy. watching their hands on you makes him see red. after your training sessions with them, simon invites these guys to spar with him. it quickly becomes clear that he’s using these sparring matches as a chance to take out his frustration and anger, landing a few extra hits just to make his point.
despite everything, you still won’t budge, and it’s only making simon more frustrated. the truth is, it’s becoming harder and harder for you to resist him. his persistence is wearing you down, and the more he pushes, the more you find yourself struggling to stay strong.
simon invites you to one of his therapy sessions, saying his therapist thinks it would be helpful for him and his progress. during the session, he opens up about his struggles and insecurities, laying everything bare. as he talks, you start to feel sympathy for him. it’s clear he’s determined to change and work on himself, and you see how genuine his efforts are.
one night, you were preparing tea in the kitchen when a girl you know from the base asked for simon’s number. she mentioned she was interested in him, which made you jealous. you snapped at her, making it clear that he would never be interested in a girl like her. simon overheard the whole thing and couldn’t help but smirk to himself. it was clear you still had feelings for him, and he took a bit of satisfaction in that.
later that night he sent one simple message to you: "that's my girl. i belong to you, and you only."
after that message, simon stepped up his game. he started sending you lots of sweet texts and little gifts, and even took care of some of your paperwork. it was hard to ignore how much he was trying, and you found it tougher to resist him as he kept showing you how much he cared.
a few months after managing to ignore simon as best as you could, you caught a nasty cold and were stuck in your room. you only texted price to let him know you needed a few days off because you were sick, and got back in your bed trying to sleep that cold off. a few hours later, as you were still trying to fall asleep, you heard your door open. simon walked in, carrying a bunch of bags, a worried look on his face.
“i came as soon as I could,” simon said, worry in his voice. “i brought you soup and medicine.”
simon didn’t leave your side for days. he only went back to his room to grab more clothes and shower. he was insistent on helping you with everything, even assisting you with your showers in the most respectful way possible of course. he’d sit in a chair next to your bed, and you felt a pang of guilt seeing how much he was giving up for you. you even tried to convince him to go get some rest, but despite your protests, he somehow ended up in your bed, gently spooning you as you slept.
simon would whisper sweet things in your hair, thinking you were asleep. you heard every word as he softly talked about how much he missed you, how sorry he was for everything, and how he wanted to make things right. even though you were sick and exhausted, his words touched you deeply.
once you were feeling better, you found simon sitting alone in a common room, lost in thought. you approached him quietly and gently kissed the side of his face. with a soft smile, you whispered, “take me on that date you promised.”
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@daydreamerwoah
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rafey-baby · 12 hours
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cw: outlaw!rafe being his usual self, hostage situation, mentions of murder, pogue!reader having some sexual awakenings & some backstory on rafe
wc: 2.3k
hope u enjoy xx
part 1 part 2
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The following morning, her eyes groggily open in her own bed; covers tucked over her shoulders and head comfortably propped up by her pillow. She finds herself perplexed, doesn’t know how she ended up here since her last coherent memory from last night is sitting on the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck and letting her heavy lids close for what was originally supposed to be a few minutes.  
Her sock-clad feet pad over to the living room where Rafe is rummaging through some of his papers and whatnot; appearing as busy as ever.  
”Why don’t I remember coming home last night?” She stops to stand next to him. 
”Cause you sleep like a fucking rock. Had to carry you to your room,” he sounds disinterested, not even bothering to lift his head from the piece of paper he’s pinching between his fingers. Upon closer inspection, it appears to be some sort of a contract; letters unfortunately too tiny for her to be able to read from where she’s standing. 
“Oh. Thanks?”
Instead of leaving her passed out in his car like she would’ve assumed, he tucked her into bed? Maybe he owns a heart, after all.  
“It’s whatever,” he dismisses her while reading something over; seemingly deep in thought.  
“Do you— do you need help with that?” 
“Nah, I’m good,” his hand lifts up to scratch at the back of his head before he scribbles something down.
”Right…” she trails off, apparently rooted in her spot and unable to move.  
”Did you want something or what?” His tone is suddenly exasperated, eyes finally flickering up to peer into hers along with his brows raising expectantly.  
”No, I just…are we going somewhere today?” She can’t help but feel a little out of place in her own home with him there; almost as if she’s waiting for his next command to know what to do next. It makes something peculiar swim in the pits of her stomach.  
”Nah, just have to go over these. Can you, I don’t know, go to your room or something? You’re bothering me with your staring,” he grumbles and shifts into a more comfortable position on the couch; not sparing her another ounce of attention.  
”Okay,” she mumbles, a frown taking over her visage.  
Honestly, she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to do now. Normally, she’d go to work at the surf shop near the beach but since Rafe so kindly took her phone and texted everyone in her contacts about a family emergency that would take some days to sort through, she can’t exactly do that. And besides work…well, she doesn’t really have much else going on in her life. It’s sad, really, how a literal criminal forcing his way into her house is the most exciting thing to happen to her in the past few years.  
All things considered though, she doesn’t mind living a quiet life in the Cut, just sometimes wishes she didn’t feel so…lonely. And don’t get her wrong, she has friends, she just sometimes yearns for something deeper than fun boat adventures or getting high with her feet dangling over the dock while a tangerine-colored sunset paints over the horizon.  
She’s always had this dream of traveling around the world or simply just somewhere that wasn’t the Outer Banks but her parents never had the money for it. Therefore, she settled and learned to earn a living by herself in order to keep a roof over her head.  
And she’s been content with her simple life, even considers herself to be happy but then she sat on Rafe’s lap and at the realization of him getting hard from her unconscious rubbing against him felt butterflies in her belly, maybe for the first time in her life. It was something she thought only happened in movies yet there they were; their fluttering wings poking at her core like some vicious reminder that she hadn’t let someone make her feel good in ages.  
Truth be told, she grew tired of guys not being able to make her come because they didn’t understand her needs; didn’t even bother to find them out which is why she sort of lost hope for the whole thing altogether. But then Rafe steps inside her home uninvited and is nothing but mean to her and suddenly she...
It's wrong.
It doesn't make any sense yet she still can't help but feel a certain pull towards him whenever he's close. And she doesn't like it one bit; wants to forget about it as quickly as the thought breaches her mind.
It's far too complex for her perplexed mind to grasp onto, which is why she confuses it for insanity; simply decides that she’s going crazy. And maybe she is, because why else would she suddenly care for Rafe? Why is a hidden part of her heart beginning to harbor gooey, fond feelings for a killer who’s technically holding her hostage? 
She’s sure her muddled brain is going to explode if she thinks about the matter any longer; instead opting to take a long, scalding shower due to the clothes she’s been wearing since yesterday starting to stick to her sweaty skin and making her feel even filthier than she already does. 
Unfortunately, the steaming water doesn't quite wash away the ache between her thighs.
She’s in the middle of pulling a shirt over the damp strands of her hair when harsh knuckles rap against her bedroom door and Rafe enters a second later; not even bothering to wait for a response.  
”Change of plans—” his words die down on his tongue when he notices her current state.  
”Rafe, what the fuck?” She quickly adjusts the hem over her waist, painfully aware of the fact that she’s not wearing any pants and his eyes are now fixed on the lace of her panties practically on show for him. 
”Why are you just barging into my room like that? I could’ve been naked!” She complains before snatching a pair of shorts off her floor; tugging them over her hips.  
”Shit, wouldn’t have minded if you were. Got a nice ass for a Pogue,” he shrugs while sporting an irritating smirk that makes her glare at him.  
”And you’ve got no manners for a Kook. Except, I’m not surprised,” she rolls her eyes when he feigns shock; exaggeratedly dropping his jaw.
”Puppy’s getting angry, huh? Where’s this attitude coming from? Thought you were still scared of me?” He belittles her with a condescending tinge in his laugh. 
And she’s about to respond when out of the blue the ring of her doorbell reverberates around the house.  
They both tense.  
“You’re expecting someone?” His tone turns bleak, frigid; inducing shivers to litter across her arms as her head turns towards the source of the sound.  
”N— no. I’m not,” she stutters because truthfully, she doesn’t have a clue as to who could be at her door in the middle of an ordinary Tuesday.  
”Did you fucking call someone?” He takes a threatening step towards her and she panics.   
”No! I promise, I didn’t. I don’t even— you literally have my phone, remember?” She tries to fruitlessly defend herself.  
”I swear, if you’re lying right now—”  
”I’m not, okay? I didn’t call anyone!” She reassures once more, although it seems like he’s not even listening anymore. Therefore, she tries to be logical. ”I should— I should go and see who it is, right?” 
The icebound water in his eyes bores into her as he weighs out his options. 
”Right, right. Yeah, you should do that," he finally settles on. "But if you even consider telling them anything, I swear I’m gonna fucking find you, you understand?” He grits out into her face and she flinches when she can feel his harsh breaths hit her mouth with each syllable.  
She quickly nods before teetering towards the entrance of her home and twisting the lock with precarious fingers.
Soon, she’s standing in front of two men wearing police uniforms. 
”Oh, sorry for the wait. Was um…in the bathroom. How can I— uh, help you?” She tries to appear unfazed; inhaling slowly and doing everything she can in order to not look as guilty as she feels. 
”We apologize for the inconvenience but we’ve been assigned to ask around the island in order to locate a criminal who’s potentially a threat to our entire community,” one of them says and she thinks his jaded eyes are peering into her soul and seeing right through her rickety facade. 
”Have you seen this man recently?” The other guy dangles a picture of Rafe in the air. She takes a moment to properly look at the photo as to not answer too quickly.  
“N— no, sorry. Can’t say I have. Why? Who is that?” She bats her lashes in confusion as her poor heart thuds in her ribcage. She wonders if they can hear it. 
”This is Rafe Cameron. You might’ve heard about Cameron development? He became the owner after his father’s death a few years back. And now we have reason to believe that he’s the main suspect for the murder of a fellow officer,” he states with a serious expression. 
”Oh, that’s…that’s terrible,” her eyes widen in shock because she had no idea Rafe was a Cameron. Of course, she’d heard everyone talking about what had happened with Ward Cameron and the rumors surrounding the gold but she’d never cared enough to dig through for more information about the rest of his family.  
”Seems like the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree considering what Ward did to Sheriff Peterkin,” the one with the piercing stare snickers and her brows furrow because she doesn’t think the topic is all that hilarious.  
”I remember watching that in the news when it was all happening. Didn’t you guys also arrest an innocent Pogue with no actual proof?” Her question is sharp because the whole case still itches her in the wrong way. 
”That was— listen, I wasn’t even here back then, it was all very tragic. But the investigation on this case is still ongoing and we have a reliable witness claiming they saw Rafe dragging something heavy near the ocean the night before we found the body washed up on the shore. And according to multiple sources Rafe was the last person seen with our coworker at the island club a few hours prior to his death,” the guy explains and she momentarily wonders if they’re even allowed to share this much classified information with her.  
”Right. Well, I really wish I could help you but I unfortunately haven’t seen him,” her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek and she wonders if they can tell that she’s lying. 
“At this point, it seems like no one has. We’re suspecting that he might’ve fled the country. Anyway, we’ve got orders to search every house but honestly, we don’t think he’d be on this side of the island. So, we’re not gonna waste our time on that. Call this number if you notice anything out of the ordinary, though?”  
”Yes, of course. I really wish there was more I could do to help. Hope you guys find him soon,” she offers them a tight smile.  
”We’ll do our best,” they assure her before the door finally closes.  
Her back slides down against the wood as her labored breathing begins to slow down. She closes her eyes in a moment of relief until she feels Rafe’s presence interfering with her peace.  
”Who knew you were such a good liar? Shouldn’t believe everything you say too easily then, should I?” His gaze travels down her form and he genuinely seems impressed.  
”You killed a cop?” She decides to ignore his teasing. 
”Relax. He was a sleazy bastard who was helping me with some side business and became too greedy. What can I say? Don’t like being used. But believe me, he was not a good person,” he answers her question, maybe for the first time ever. 
”Right, right,” she tries her very best to understand where he’s coming from but she doesn’t think she’s ever going to be able to justify ending someone’s life with such indifference. In her opinion, he doesn’t have the right to decide whether someone gets to live or not; no matter how good or bad of a person they are. 
”Listen, I didn’t mean to do it, it just…happened, okay?” He tries to explain himself and he almost sounds vulnerable. She nearly feels bad for him.  
”You know, I could go to jail for helping you!” She snaps when frustration bubbles to the surface instead.  
”Calm down, Pup. You’re not going to jail, alright? And watch that fucking tone, yeah?” His hands rest on his head as he begins to pace around the hallway.  
”I just— cops don’t care about Pogues. If they find out I lied to them they’re gonna put me behind bars cause unlike you, I don’t have the money to bail myself out,” she tries to pointlessly reason with him.  
”Already told you, nothing’s gonna happen to you, okay? Now can you shut the fuck up so I can think?” He demands, halting his movements.  
”Did they, uh, tell you anything?” He speaks up again and she tells him everything she remembers from the brief conversation while he mulls over his situation. 
”Right, right. So, they don’t actually have any real proof about me killing the guy? Just speculation,” he confirms.  
”I guess, yeah? But I don’t know if they even know all the details about the case,” she offers in response and can practically hear the wheels turning in his head.  
”They didn’t happen to mention who the witness was?”  
”N— no, why?” Her voice wavers as she swallows around the question. 
He lifts his head to inspect her reaction when he seems to have finally conjured up some sort of a plan to clear his name.  
”Think I’m gonna have to pay him a little visit. And you’re gonna help, aren’t ya?”
She would very much like to find out whatever sin she committed in a past life that weighed so heavily that it made her end up in a position as wretched as this one.
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mummybear · 3 days
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My Brother's Best Friend - Chapter 7 - The Mating
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Words - 4034
Warnings: Swearing, Mating, Smut, P IN V, Oral (Female Receiving), Dirty Talk, Possessive Stiles, Protective Stiles, Marking, Biting, Think That's everything.
Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Reader/You/Sadie, Mentions Of Alan Deaton, Liam Dunbar, Allison Argent, Lydia Martin, Mellissa McCall, Scott McCall.
A/N: Hey guys, Sorry about the wait, I'm still really struggling with writers block but I had a few productive days and managed to finish this chapter and start something new for Dean, so we're getting somewhere at least! Hope you're all good and enjoy this! :)
Please do not copy my work or anyone else's. I have had more than enough of that the past few years, please try writing for yourself. Thank you.
Chapter 7 - The Mating
There’s an amazing softness beneath you, when you slowly become aware of your surroundings. It also happens to be when a sudden desperate whimpering from beside you pulls you all of the way out of any remaining sleepiness. You keep your eyes shut, all too aware of the unbearable thumping in your head. However, when you feel someone brushing the hair from your forehead, you can’t help but lean into the familiar touch immediately. Moaning contentedly when those same fingers skim your bare shoulder, your eyes snap open though when your skin practically sizzles on contact. You very quickly realise you’re face to face with Stiles, and his eyes flare purple. 
Once you manage to centre yourself, you can feel the worry rolling off of him in waves, almost as if it were your own emotion, though you’re starting to find it a little easier to tell the difference between your own feelings and his.
“Stiles, what’s wrong?” you whisper, your voice a little hoarse from sleep as you roll your body into his. 
Stiles remains silent as he reaches over to grab a bottle of water from the bedside table, almost like he’s trying to lean away from you. He doesn’t answer either, he merely responds to you in one worded grunt as he hands you the bottle. 
“Drink.” 
You roll your eyes but take the bottle from him, swigging a little of the liquid, all too aware of his eyes as they start to burn a hole into the side of your head.
“There, are you happy now? Bossy,” you snap a little annoyed with his attitude.
“Not yet. Eat,” he replies, softly but firmly with a sigh, handing you a sandwich before he runs his long fingers through his hair once again. 
Stiles helps you sit up and get as comfortable as you can, which is for some reason particularly difficult. Before finally leaving the room. You sigh to yourself as you start eating, settling back against the pillows, doing your best not to read too much into his actions or the silence that fills the moments. Clearly he’s worried, which you can understand, all things considered. So you try to rest while you eat. Though, you’re really hoping he won't be long in returning. 
You rest back against the pillow after placing the plate on the side. Grabbing the pillow from beside you, the one that Stiles had been using, so that you can hold it close and inhale his scent. 
You let out a needy whine as the need to have Stiles mate with you returns, like a burning wildfire, and you moan as your hips roll against nothing. Biting your lip hard as you breathe out a shuddering breath. Running your fingers through your hair while trying to get your breathing under control. 
You’d only ever experienced this extreme longing once before, earlier today, in Deaton’s office. 
Right before Stiles had to be physically ripped away from you and you were practically dry humping him in front of everyone. You stare at your closed door, fingers tightening in the sheets beneath you, as your breathing quickly becomes more rapid. Pulling off the duvet so that the cool air can soothe your naked body, you can feel the heat as it rolls away from you. Your chest heaves when you hear the floorboards creaking just outside your bedroom, your hearing like all of your other senses are on high alert. Your door creaks open and his scent hits you like a truck. You let out a shuddering breath as your legs drop open.
Stiles walks into the room unbuttoning his jeans as he makes a few long strides towards the bed, his eyes locked on your body.
“Do you need anything else?” Stiles questions you stiffly, as he tosses his t-shirt across the room.
“Just you, I’m so beyond ready for you.” You reply in a breathless moan, licking your lips as he pulls off his jeans and boxers, leaving him completely bare.
He fists his cock and pumps up and down a few times as he looks you over, a cocky smirk pulls at his lips, one you’d only seen on him a handful of times, as his eyes drop to look at your pussy, watching it drip just for him.
“Goddamn, that pussy is so fucking wet. You want this, baby girl?” he rasps, tugging at his cock as he kneels on the foot of the bed.
He crawls towards you on his hands and knees, and a shiver races up your spine.
“Is this really about to happen?” you whisper in awe as he stops between your spread legs. The awe of so many years waiting leaves you more than a little anxious, suddenly and your confidence slips slightly.
The smile that spreads across his lips is almost predatory, but you don’t mind being his prey, not even for a second.
“You bet your ass it is. About damn time too, if you ask me.” 
You grab his wrist as he reaches for your face and you look into his eyes, and he goes back to looking worried again.
“Stiles… Are you sure you want this? I know, we’ve talked about this a lot at this point. It’s just that I’ve known that I wanted you…and this, for years. You’ve only had a few days to decide, I don’t want you to wake up one day and resent me. This is forever… if we do this. I can’t stand the thought of you hating me,” you whisper, suddenly feeling vulnerable, you glance down at your hands now resting on his chest. You’re annoying yourself with your rambling, but you can’t have him coming to regret this one day.
“Sadie, look at me,” Stiles commands and it washes over you like a calming balm. Almost like he’s somehow controlling you with a gentle nudge of your chin, you lift your eyes to meet his eyes once more. He cups your cheek gently, “you won’t be able to understand this right now, but maybe one day you will, if you decide to become like me. This pull that I feel towards you isn’t completely sexual. Don’t get me wrong, there’s that part of me, a big part right now, that wants to claim you, possess you…” he growls out the last few words and you can’t help but smile when he shakes his head a little, like he’s clearing the fog. 
“Sorry,” he clears his throat, before continuing, “this will sound cheesy but you’re here,” he takes your hand and rests it over his heart. “I can feel you, it’s so deep rooted and pure, you centre me, you’re my other half. You make me feel more in control than I ever have.” 
“You’re cute when you ramble,” you can’t help but giggle as a tear slides down your cheek. You cup his cheeks, letting your fingers slide into the hair at the back of his head, you gently tug and he groans, letting his forehead drop down onto yours.
“Cute enough that you’re convinced?” he rasps against your lips, before he kisses away the tear.
You reach out and link his fingers with your own, letting them drop down either side of your head as you lay back, Stiles follows you, his forehead never leaving yours.
“Please, I’m ready,” you whisper against his lips.
“Whatever you want, my little Minx.” He rumbles, his voice like a caress in all of the right places. 
Right before his lips descend on yours, much more gently than you’d been expecting. Your fingers tighten their grip as Stiles lowers his body on top of yours, the feel of your skin pressed so tightly against his sends sparks across your skin. 
When he starts to nip at your collar bone you grip his body tightly. 
“No foreplay, Stiles. Please, I can’t wait anymore.” You whimper desperately clinging to his back, doing your utmost to pull him closer.
Stiles chuckles, softly brushing his fingers over your hip, “we can’t rush this too fast, at least let me make sure you’re ready for me.”
His tone is deep and husky, causing shivers to run over your entire body.
“Trust me, I’m ready.” You smirk at him as his lips brush the place his fingers have just left. You arch against the feeling.
“Hmm, let me check anyway. You can never be too sure,” he grins, forcefully tugging your legs over his shoulders, causing you to giggle as you run your fingers through his hair. 
He looks up at you and licks his lips, those chocolate brown eyes flashing purple for just a few seconds, before he dips his head and his tongue slowly laps at your clit. His fingers tighten on your thighs when you try to push into the feeling, desperate for more contact. You can’t hold in the whimper when he slides two fingers inside you, and his tongue starts to lap faster as he curls his fingers inside you.
Your muscles begin to clamp down around the intrusion as shivers race through your body. You give his hair a harsh tug, causing him to hiss against you, before a growl begins low in his throat. 
“Stiles, please!” You beg, continuing to claw desperately at anything you can reach as you feel the first flutters of your orgasm.
“Stay still, Mate.” Stiles growls his demand roughly, in a voice that no longer sounds like his own. He sucks on your clit a little harder and begins to scissor his fingers, before adding a third finger. You squeal at the tight fit, and throw your head back and grip the headboard behind you as you roll your hips against his onslaught. 
“Hold it. Don’t you dare come, little Minx. Save it for my cock.”
You squeeze your eyes shut tight and feel the blissful burn of your orgasm begin, right before Stiles pulls away completely. Your eyes snap open, anger burning through your veins until you watch him slip his fingers between his lips, sucking the taste of you from them as his other hand wraps around his thick cock and strokes it with firm tugs.
“Naughty girl,” he smirks, releasing himself and dropping so his body covers yours with his hands either side of your shoulders. You feel his cock nudging at your entrance and you whimper, arching your back, desperate for him to fill you and mark you as his. 
You bite your lip and nod at him as you hook a leg over his hip, and you both groan in unison when the bulbous head of his cock nudges at your entrance.
“Look at me,” he whispers softly as he gets down on his elbows and his lips graze yours.
Your mouth drops open and you suck in a deep breath, as the head of his cock is pushed inside of you, his thumb grazes your bottom lip and he licks his own lips as he pushes inside a little further.
“Oh god, Stiles,” you whine, throwing your head to the side and offering him the side of your neck.
“Mmmm, such a good girl. Your pussy is so fucking tight, fits like a glove, baby girl.” He withdraws almost all of the way, before slowly pushing forward and filling you a little more than the first time. You can hardly breathe, lost in a state of ecstasy, as his lips brush soft kisses along your neck. He licks over the place he wants to mark you several times, and you feel his rumble of pleasure before you hear it.
The pain is ebbing away and you're starting to feel more pleasure than you thought was possible, you hook your other leg over Stiles’ other hip and dig your heels into his firm ass. Stiles practically snarls as he snaps his hips forward fully filling you, before you can comprehend what’s happened an orgasm rips through you, one so powerful you almost don't feel his fangs and teeth as they sink into your neck as a possessive rumble fills the room. You don’t realise you’ve screamed until you hear banging at your bedroom door.
Stiles gently pulls away, seemingly uncaring of the shouting at the door as he laps at the mark on your neck, practically purring like a kitten as his hips begin moving, with long and deep thrusts. 
“Fuck off!” You half shout, half moan. 
Your fingers sink into the skin of his back as he bares his neck to you. You don’t even know if it will work if you mark him as human, but when you look at his skin you could swear you see the perfect place to bite him, almost as if it’s calling to you. 
Stiles moans as you lap at the skin, inhaling deeply before you sink your own teeth into his neck, groaning at the taste. You feel him shudder above you as he releases inside you. Before his knot latches inside you tightly, locking him with you for the next few minutes at least. You smile to yourself as you lick at the mark you’ve left behind briefly, hearing the contented noises of your mate. Stiles pulls the sheets over your bodies as he curls protectively around you.
“Mine. My Mate.” 
You giggle as he squeezes you tightly and nuzzles your mark once more, kissing it softly, before he buries his face in your hair and slips a leg between yours. Almost as if he needs as much skin touching as possible. He wraps his arms around you and you sigh as the rightness of the situation settles over you. Snuggling back against his chest, you can feel his pride at being your Mate and you can’t help but grin.
“Thank you for waiting for me, I’m sorry I took so long, Minx,” he whispers almost sadly.
“I would’ve waited forever for you, Stiles Stilinski,” you reply just as quietly, wrapping your arms around the arm you can reach. 
“Now sleep,” you rasp feeling the tiredness already catching up with you.
Next Morning
You wake with a start, a moan tearing from your lips as Stiles laps at your clit, before he sucks it between his lips with a rumbling moan. You let out a squeak when your door starts to slowly open, feeling Stiles chuckling against you, but he refuses to move no matter how much you push at his head. In fact, he makes matters worse by gripping your thighs tightly and pushing them wide. You bite your lip hard when he doubles his efforts, and Liam comes into view. 
Suddenly Stiles moves, his body so quick to cover yours and he glares at the man currently in the doorway.
“Mine. Don’t look at her. Get the fuck out, now.” He snarls in a voice similar to the one he used on you yesterday, it almost reminded you of an Alpha voice, but surely that couldn’t be right. 
Liam flinches, but you had to give him his due, he held his ground and instead of leaving he dropped his eyes to look at your floor. 
“Stiles, stop it. He knows who I belong to, baby. Breathe,” you murmur calmingly, carefully stroking his cheek, as he moves his eyes to yours and leans into your touch. He huffs and moves just slightly to rest his head against your chest.
You can’t help but whimper when his cock nudges at your entrance, “what do you want, Liam?” you ask shakily, since you're sure whatever reason he’s in here must be important. From what you understood, mated couples shouldn’t be disturbed for the first few days of mating. 
Liam seems to swallow hard, “Scott was worried after yesterday, he wanted me to check if you two needed food or anything? Especially with how bad Sadie was yesterday.” He practically whispers, seemingly only addressing Stiles.
‘Is this fucker trying to say I can’t look after my mate.’ 
“Nobody is saying that, Stiles,” you sigh, softly running your fingers through his hair.
Stiles suddenly sits up, still covering you but he stares at you shocked, and by the look on Liam's face something strange had just happened, something that you’d clearly missed. Maybe it was a werewolf thing.
“Thanks Liam, we’ll be out in a minute,” Stiles whispers brokenly as he continues to stare at you in awe.
Liam leaves, and Stiles is beginning to make you nervous as you watch each other silently.
‘Can you hear me?’ Stiles asks and you gasp in shock, because although you hear his voice as clear as day his mouth didn’t move. 
“What’s happening?” you ask, suddenly extremely worried. 
“I didn’t say any of that outloud, Baby. Deaton did say this was possible. He told me, right after you passed out, but he also said it would only happen after you became like me. We have a mindlink baby, you can hear what I’m thinking and I can hear you.” 
“Wait, what? That’s a thing?” you question in confusion, considering you’d never heard your brother speak of such things before.
“It’s extremely rare. Usually it’s unheard of, I guess my mystical ass got a few extra perks,” he grins at you wiggling his eyebrows at you.
You giggle then suddenly you wonder ‘can he hear you?’
“Oh I can hear you, dirty girl. Want me to finish what I started?” he growls as his cock is pushed slowly back inside you.
You cry out in pleasure when he begins to thrust hard and fast, as if from nowhere and without any warning your body reacts instantly. You shiver as your body quickly heats at the sudden invasion, but he moves his fingers to your clit and begins circling the small tight bundle of nerves in firm circles, in time with his movements.
Stiles groans when you suddenly stop him, with a gentle hand on his chest, he’s reluctant to stop but he rolls onto his back. Especially once he realises what’s happening. He quickly helps you sit up, managing to keep his cock still buried deep inside you, so that you can’t help but whimper at how he’s somehow so much deeper at this angle. His eyes lock on yours as you get comfortable, and the connection between you sizzles like a live wire.
“Take it slow, Baby, you’re so fucking hot and I’m so damn deep, I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“You worry too much, Stiles, we were made for each other. I can more than handle you,” you moan out as you rest your hands on his chest and give an experimental roll of your hips, letting your nails dig into his skin, enjoying the way his grip tightens on you. Feeling a mix of pleasure and pain smash into you as you angle your hips just right. Arching your back as you continue to move, you try to push through it, keeping your eyes locked on Stiles’.
“Fuck you’re sexy, so damn beautiful.”
Your pussy starts to flutter and clamp down tightly around him at his words, “good girl, right there,” Stiles groans, his eyes locked on yours. You bite your lip and keep up your pace, feeling as though your body has a mind of its own as you chase your orgasm. Stiles grips your ass roughly with his long fingers, as he slams his hips up to meet yours and you still can’t quite believe how deep he is.
The sound of skin slapping against skin is intoxicating, as Stiles sits up wrapping your hair around his fist, tugging until your back arches and your breasts push out. He quickly latches onto one of your nipples and gives a firm suck, softly dragging his teeth over the sensitive flesh when you let out another loud cry of pleasure. Your orgasm is so close, that when he pulls away from your breast and presses his face in your neck and drags his nose over your claiming mark you violently shiver.
You rake your nails over his chest as he bites into your newly marked skin, lapping at it forcefully, causing your pussy to clench around him and more slick to run down his length. He pulls back to watch as both of your breathing increases, “My Alpha, please, gonna come,” you all but squeak, watching him closely as his eyes glow purple.
‘Mmm, I can feel it,’ he purrs inside your head, before you know what's happened he flips you both, so you're trapped beneath him. Getting up on his knees, he grips your thighs and pushes your legs back against your body. Forcing himself so much deeper than before, you practically scream as an orgasm rips through your body, Stiles’ fingers dig into your skin as your eyes fly open to lock onto his once more, feeling as his knot begins to catch inside you.
‘Your eyes are purple’ Stiles states with so much emotion, you feel tears begin to form in your eyes and you don’t know why.
Stiles lets out a growl as he finally knots you and you feel his warmth push inside you, he carefully releases your legs and you let them drop to the bed as Stiles’ body covers yours. Your chests heave against one another as he lays in your arms.
“Once we catch our breaths we should probably go down and speak to everyone, at least for a little while,” you whisper regretfully, hearing him let out a huff of annoyance. 
“Fine. Although, just to be clear I would love nothing more than chaining you to this bed and fucking you all day,” he rasps, kissing your sensitive flesh of your mark.
“Trust me, I would let you. But we need to make sure everything is okay. I don’t think they would interrupt just because Scott was concerned I hadn’t eaten,” you whisper running your fingers through his hair softly.
“You’re probably right, but please stay close, Minx. I don’t know how I’ll react to unmated males being near you at the minute, but I could guess.”
You carefully push his head up, so his eyes meet yours once again, “just try and remember, I’m wearing your mark, though even if I wasn’t, I have no interest in anyone who isn’t you.” You promise gently cupping his cheek. Stiles softly kisses your lips as he slowly pulls out, and you can’t help but let out a noise between a gasp and a whimper at the feeling.
“Sore?” he asks softly, you can hear the concern, but you can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up because he sounds very pleased with himself right now.
He sits up carefully with a shit eating grin plastered to his face, “shut up,” you laugh finally sitting up yourself. You take his undershirt which he hands you, before you pull on a fresh pair of painties and some loose fitting pants.
Stiles tosses on his plaid shirt and pulls up his underwear and jeans, tugging you to his side before you can leave, he wraps his hand around yours. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and then you leave the safety of your room, doing your best not to wince with every step. When you come to the bottom step your mother and Scott are just walking inside, before you can go to hug them, Stiles pulls you back to him as Liam stands to help them with the groceries. 
You turn to look at him, finding those purple eyes glaring at everyone who isn’t a family member, “Stop it. You know I’m safe here.”
Stiles snaps his eyes to yours and shakes his head, and you can feel everyone's eyes on the two of you.
“It’s not them. None of them. Someone’s close, someone who doesn’t belong.” 
Everything happens so fast, Stiles locks eyes with Scott and sure enough you watch as your brother’s eyes begin to glow that deep red.
Stiles moves to stand by Scott, handing you off to Lydia and Allison. Liam steps in front of you as your mother stands beside you all.
“Stay here,” Scott and Stiles whisper in unison, moving as one to head out the front door.
Tags: @julzdec @lettersofwrittencollective @mogaruke @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @lilulo-12 @charmed-asylum @defenderrosetyler @emilyshurley @foxyjwls007 @mylovelydame21 @akshi8278 @peaches007 @stylesismyhubs @peachyyybabyy @fantasy-myth1 @death-unbecomes-you @coffeebooksandfandom @magssteenkamp @screamxqueenx94 @brien-odylan @riseandshinelittleblossom @ceceliaking-18 @mrs-mitch-rapp93 @missindecision @deans-number-one-fan @onethirstyunicorn @flintthegoodboyo @ilovewriting06 @sexualtensiongrowing @you-dont-know-me-got-it
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iipoisonedbutterfly · 16 hours
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SPEAK UP
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001. WARNINGS: mdni, yandere character(s), mentions of murder, violence, obsession, delusion sanemi, masturbation, kidnapping, blackmail, manipulation, forced relationship, controlling behavior
002. CHARACTERS: sanemi shinazugawa — kny
003. PAIRINGS: yandere!sanemi x quiet fem!reader, collage au
004. SYNOPSIS: sanemi, notorious for being loud and brash, ends up being obsessed with you, the quiet girl on campus.
005. WORD COUNT: 382
006. NOTES: (requested by anon) apologies this took so long, i’ve been having a bit of writers block but i’m trying to get back into the swing of things. anyways, i hope you enjoy this! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ 
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yandere!sanemi who can’t stand how quiet you were, you wouldn’t even stand up for yourself. it pissed him off how you just let everyone walk all over you.
yandere!sanemi who decides to ‘take care’ of everyone who’s been messing with you. recently, a few students have stopped showing up to their classes.
yandere!sanemi who starts following you around campus, noting down everyone who talks to you. later on, he looks into their backgrounds, getting rid of all the sleazy ones—they don’t deserve to talk to you.
yandere!sanemi who tries to talk to you but ends up fumbling his words despite you not saying anything to him. it was the way you looked at him, most people were terrified of his appearance but you even do so much as bat an eye.
yandere!sanemi who finds himself with conflicted emotions. he’s never had someone not be scared of him. though on the other hand, he prides himself in his rugged appearance. why weren’t you scared of him like everyone else?
yandere!sanemi who found himself unable to sleep that night, his head full of questions and thought of you. with the image of you in his head, his once-innocent thoughts start to drift into more sinister ones.
yandere!sanemi who finds himself jerking off to you, imagining that it was your mouth around his twitching cock instead of his fist. the thought of you finding out about his twisted desires makes a knot form in his stomach, would you be scared of him now?
yandere!sanemi who decides that he needs to have you for himself, he won’t let anyone else have you—they don’t deserve someone like you. he’s determined to make you his.
yandere!sanemi who corners you in an alleyway on your way home from class, he’s quick to knock you out and stealthily shove you into his car.
yandere!sanemi who threatens to start killing anyone who talks to you if you don’t agree to date him, leaving you little choice for refusal. eventually, he lets you go under the condition that you also move in with him.
yandere!sanemi who forces you to make all your social media accounts private so only he can see them. he doesn’t want any of your average scumbags to come across your profile and get the wrong idea.
yandere!sanemi who brags about you to practically everyone on campus, often finding the nearest person and then proceeding to talk their ear off about you. now almost everyone on the campus knows about your relationship.
yandere!sanemi who doesn’t let you talk to any other guys with the exception his best friend obanai—who is aware of his friend’s obsessive feelings towards you, and in fact even enables it.
yandere!sanemi who insists on being by you 24/7, he had his arm wrapped around your shoulder or his hands somewhere on your body at all times to let any onlookers know that you were his.
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©2024 iipoisonedbutterfly — all rights reserved
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maelwife · 4 months
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I had to make some fugly tissue paper display pieces at work yesterday and I Gripped the scissors so hard my thumb has had a numb spot for the last 24hrs
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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months
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you know the killer doesn't understand
in which spencer is so terrified he's going to hurt you after he gets out of prison that he can barely touch you. an argument ensues.
angst (+ comfort) warnings/tags: established relationship, fem!reader, mentions of violent intrusive thoughts (non-specific), arguing, yelling, use of the word rape, nightmares, happyish ending, mention of showering together, it's a bad time but it's also a good time for us woo i love angsty angst a/n: i miss posting for real so bad i dug up this draft which was mostly finished and polished it up. i think i really like this one and it was based on a request but i lost it:( i hope u guys enjoy this, pls lmk<3
Spencer is by no means happy with his sudden fear of touching you—it makes everything in his life significantly harder and less convenient and he hates that he’s constantly afraid he’s going to break you. He hates watching you hold back from attacking him with a hug when he enters a room like you used to, and he feels terrible every time you ball up on the opposite side of the couch as he reads, waiting for an invitation into his lap but too scared to ask for one (he’ll always hold out his arm for you, though—he’s not cruel.)
You’re adorable in the way you stand at the foot of the bed in your pajamas, arms behind your back like it’s not your bed too, but it makes him feel terrible. This isn’t at all what he wanted for you, and in all honestly he’s thought about ending the relationship because he knows he’s being an absolutely awful partner—but he just can’t bring himself to. Instead, he gestures for you to get into bed, and you curl up under the covers close to him but not against him, and he’ll play with your hair and read for a while because he can’t sleep very well. Eventually he’ll assume the position of sleep, but some sick part of him doesn’t know what to do with the sounds of the city and the fan instead of the sounds of a hundred men rolling and sniffing and shuffling around their echoey cells. He doesn’t understand warmth anymore, or softness, or nice pajamas or fluffy pillows. He’s starting to think he doesn’t understand you. And that’s the worst thought of all. 
So he essentially dozes for the first week, on and off, always exhausted in the mornings but what’s new. When he can’t sleep, he turns his head to watch you breathe—some beautiful, sweet creature dreaming in his bed, unwaveringly loyal to him even though he can hardly stand to touch you for fuck’s sake. You’re beautiful, and it makes him feel better to watch you, even if he can’t touch you. Not now that he knows what he is capable of doing to another person. What if he has some sort of PTSD—PTSS, thank you, Luke Alvez—induced dream and does something terrible to you in his sleep? It’s not like you’re tiny, but he’s stronger, he knows he is, and lately every time you get too close he remembers exactly what it feels like to exert the full force of that strength, and what it feels like when someone else unleashes their own onto him. 
They’re just intrusive thoughts, and in them he doesn’t hurt you intentionally, but he always feels a little bit sick now. He is so, so sick. A bull in a China shop. Spencer knows exactly how breakable humans are—it’s his job to know. If he left so much as one red mark on you by accident, he’s quite sure he’d drill down to a previously unknown rock bottom. And if he reaches that point, he doesn’t know if he’d ever deserve to come back. 
Every day it seems to become clearer that the only humane thing to do is break up with you. But for now he’ll watch you sleep—the delicate rising and falling of your chest, the way you curl in on yourself because you can’t curl into him. In sleep you look so peaceful and content. You never look that way awake, anymore. Not when he’s around, which is pretty much always. At least he can’t disappoint you while you’re asleep. 
Or so he’d like to think. 
Until one night, about a week and a half after he gets home; you whimper in your sleep. It’s so quiet he could’ve missed it, but he doesn’t, and then he watches your smooth brow furrow with worry and he knows you’re having a nightmare immediately. 
Spencer panics—before, he would have woken you up and held you and comforted you until you fell back asleep and it would have been so simple. Now he’s frozen, afraid to touch you but not sure if he can just lie there watching you so afraid and not do a thing about it. 
In the end, you choose for him—and it only takes a few moments. You’re close enough to him that it’s easy for you to close the few inches even in sleep, and maybe you’re slightly conscious but not enough to remember you’re not supposed to touch him. 
He stops breathing as you fold yourself against him, muttering worried nonsense—he catches his name, once—nestling against his chest, one searching arm gently draping over his waist. Every muscle in his body is rigid, and his thoughts—his mind goes… completely fucking blank. 
Suddenly, all he’s known, all he’s ever known, is the smell of your hair, the warmth of you seeping through layers of clothing, and the weight of your arm over him. Everything he ever was ceases to exist, and he’s just this, right now. The person you’d turned to unconsciously for comfort, so sure, so trusting that he would keep you safe. He can feel your breath for the first time in months. Slowly every tense muscle unspools. For the first time in a long time he doesn’t feel dangerous. He doesn’t feel like his entire body is spring loaded and ready to attack at the slightest provocation. Spencer allows himself to hold you, and part of it feels like betrayal because he knows how badly you need this from him while you’re awake but mostly he feels like he could cry. His thumb rubs circles into the middle of your back and your head tucks so perfectly under his chin while he studies the rumpled sheets where you’d been lying a moment ago. He almost feels like sticking his tongue out to gloat at your half of the mattress—haha, look who gets to hold her now—but instead he sighs, shakily, and squeezes his eyes shut. 
You don’t make another sound for hours. 
He’s reluctant to let you go when you begin to stir around six AM, but forcibly holding onto you is so far from what he wants to do that he manages. You roll back over to your own side of the bed, and he continues admiring you from afar until he falls asleep. It’s the best three hours of sleep he’s had in a very long time. 
Of course, you don’t remember it. When you wake up your sadness resumes, and so does the pretending like you’re not sad, but you’re a very good sport—and it helps that he’s feeling much better this morning than he has since he got back. 
“Good morning,” you whisper faintly, still blinking as you watch him longingly from your spot. 
Spencer pushes himself up onto an elbow, and you watch with big eyes as he leans over you, stroking your cheek with his free hand. 
“Good morning. You sleep okay?”
Your brow flickers, and he realizes it’s not a question he asks every morning, and you’re probably distracted by this overt display of affection, but you answer it obediently anyway. 
“I think so. I had weird dreams.”
He hums. 
“About what?”
It’s quiet for a moment as he takes in the exact spattering of microscopically fractured pigment over your irises. Your voice is small when you finally speak. 
“Do I have to tell you?”
That hurts. 
“No. But it might help.”
Coming from him? Ironic doesn’t even begin to cover it. 
You acknowledge him with a small hum of your own, studying him with soft, mistrustful eyes. 
He can’t help it anymore—Spencer leans down and gently kisses you, so tenderly, so chastely, it makes his own head spin. He hasn’t kissed you like that since you picked him up from Milburn. It’s long overdue. 
Which is why he’s not expecting you to start crying. He pulls back immediately, not far, just enough to assess your expression. 
“What’s this? What’s wrong, angel?” He frowns. Your lip quivers in a way that feels like a blow to the chest. 
“That’s not… you’re…”
“What? What is it?”
A fat tear finally traces a path down your cheek and when you speak your voice breaks in the most fragile, devastating way. 
“You’re not being fair.”
He has no neat question to summarize all the bafflement your accusation inspires in his lately cloudy head, but the wildly confused look on his face must be prompt enough.
“I’m trying really hard to respect your space and boundaries and not upset you but my feelings are hurt, Spencer, I don’t know how they couldn’t be. I feel like you don’t even like me anymore. I’m embarrassed around you because I feel like I care about you so much more than you care about me. And then you—and then you wake up one morning and you think it’s okay to act like you love me again but I can’t—I c—” you stop, obviously frustrated—now crying in earnest and lacking the words. “You can’t be mean to me. I know you’ve been through a lot and I’m sorry but you can’t treat me like that. I’m a person, too.”
His chest aches and he swallows down barbed wire.
“I’m not acting like I love you. I do love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in my life. That’s not an act.”
It’s not an adequate response, but your words are still spinning in his head until he can’t keep up with them. He’s not used to this, anymore. The language you two had developed is so foreign now. 
Maybe he just doesn’t know how to talk to you. 
Resignation—a too-calm recognition softens the stormy look that has brewed on your face. As soon as it’s gone, and you’re looking at him placidly, he realizes he’s afraid. 
“Well, that’s not enough,” you whisper. 
Spencer feels like he’s been shot as you push the covers aside and slip out of bed. And he knows what that feels like. 
“Where are you going?” And then louder, when you don’t hear him because you’ve already left the room, “Where are you going?”
He follows you through the apartment as you march purposefully for the door, slipping shoes on and grabbing your keys and coat. 
You barely look over your shoulder as you leave, slamming the front door behind you. Things shake from the impact. A mini earthquake. 
Spencer is too stunned to follow you. 
It’s not until a few minutes later when he goes to call you that he realizes your phone is still sitting on your bedside table. He stares at it, tasting metal, because he has absolutely no way to reach you or guarantee your safety. There’s no way for you to call him, or anyone, if you get in trouble—and he fears that you’ll retaliate against him by doing something stupid and dangerous. 
He only just manages to stop himself from calling the police and asking them to start looking for you. Only just recognizes it to be an overreaction. 
Besides, he’s not feeling particularly fond of the criminal justice institution these days. If it came down to it, he’d trust himself and his team over the cops any day.
The team. They’re always a resource. If worst comes to worst, he thinks, robotically making coffee as he tries to talk himself down, and she doesn’t come home before dark, I’ll call all of her closest friends. If she doesn’t come home before the morning—the thought makes him feel sick—I’ll deploy every fucking resource at my disposal. 
Maybe that’s an overreaction, too, but he has to find a way to self-soothe somehow. Planning makes him feel better. Being prepared for the things you never see coming makes him feel better. It’s impossible, of course—but the illusion of control is stubborn and so seductive. 
Thankfully, it doesn’t come to that. 
At around 2 PM, he receives a couple of texts from Garcia that are a massive relief. 
Penelope: She’s at my apartment
Penelope: BE NICER TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!
The series of emojis that follow (including an octopus?), he doesn’t even try to decipher. He simply drops his phone and sighs deeply into his hands, releasing an extreme amount of paranoid tension that had been tying him into knots. Lately, he’s had this sense that everything is fleeting—that the things he takes for granted are painfully, violently impermanent. It doesn’t take anyone with a degree to figure out why he’s been feeling that way, but it’s so all-consuming he’s not sure how to cope with it. Just a few days ago, he’d been wondering how to break up with you. Now he’s asking himself how the fuck he thought he’d be able to do that when he’s barely functioning after a few hours without you.
It’s a question he still hasn’t answered by the time the front door opens at 10 PM. It’s clear by the deer-in-headlights look on your face that you hadn’t been expecting him like this—leaning over the counter, half-empty mug by his hand, staring at nothing in particular and waiting for you to come home. Neither of you have changed clothing since this morning—not that you could—but you look apprehensive as you close it behind you, never facing away from him. The whole thing is like a teenager being caught sneaking back in by a weary parent. 
For a moment the silent confrontation stretches into the horizon, a non-specific point as neither of you seem inclined to be the first to talk. You just watch him watching you—leaning against the door rigidly as if you can’t get far enough away. But he’s too tired for this. Too worn out. 
“How’d you get home?”
You swallow. 
“Penelope.”
Spencer nods slowly, rolling his bottom lip between teeth and finally looking away. 
“You really should have brought your phone.”
You scoff, peeling yourself from the door. 
“Of course that’s what you’re worried about.”
It’s the same situation as this morning, but in reverse—him following after you down the hall as you storm toward the bedroom. 
“Wh—should I not have been? You scared me—” he says your name, barely catching the door before it can slam in his face. “I was worried about you.”
“Why?” you face him, laughing bewilderedly as if the situation were at all funny. A kind of manic energy crackles from the surface of your skin and in your eyes that renders him unable to think of a reply. “Because you thought I would get raped and murdered and then you’d be sad?”
“Yes!” Spencer yells, eyes widening as he fails to contain his frustration any longer. “That is fucking exactly why I was scared!”
You step forward, getting in his space. It jars him, momentarily—he wants to get away from you. Being angry and so close to you is terrifying. What if he lashes out? What if he hurts you? He’s seen crimes of passion. His blood is freezing in his veins. 
“Of course you didn’t give one single fuck that I left you. You didn’t think for one fucking second that I might be tired of this. That wasn’t what you were scared of at all.” For every inch you near, he backs away. Another scorned, bitter laugh from you that feels like poison coursing through his entire circulatory system. You notice everything, eyeing him up and down as he cowers from you. “What is this, Spencer? If you hate being near me that much, just fucking break up with me.”
You’re close enough that he can see the tears welling in your eyes, but he’d know they were there even if he couldn’t observe them. He would hear it in your voice. He would feel it. But he can’t do anything about it. Right now, he’s paralyzed. 
“If the only thing holding you back is wanting to spare my feelings, just fucking do it. This isn’t better. I don’t give a fuck if it’s hard for you. It’s hard for me, too, but I’m not just going to ignore it anymore.”
There’s no more room. The wall is at is back. 
“Honey, please back up,” Spencer breathes. Last time his back was to a wall, he’d been gagged and beaten. Don’t lash out. She never hurt you. It wasn’t her. 
“Don’t tell me what to do!” you shout, as tears begin to spill over your cheeks. “Either break up with me or stop telling me to go away!”
At that moment, as you break down and your words become muddled with sobs, you raise your fist. 
Spencer watches it approach his shoulder as if in slow-motion. 
On instinct, he catches your wrist.
There’s a lull as he waits for something to explode, for something to go terribly, deeply wrong—
But it doesn’t. 
He realizes his grip is gentle. He realizes you’d never actually hurt him like that. He realizes how little resistance he’d found when he stopped what was sure to be nothing more than a petulant, petty bump against his shoulder—a maneuver that wouldn’t have hurt in the slightest. It was nothing more than a desolate, childlike display of feelings bigger than you know what to do with. 
In the second that it takes him to realize all of this, to realize he is not endangering you in the slightest, nor you him, you’ve begun to truly sob. Standing just inches from him, head angled down as he holds your wrist carefully, you are the picture of a girl who has been running on empty for a very long time and has nothing left to give. Spencer twines his arms around you, tucking your head under his chin and slowly rubbing your back like he’d never forgotten how to hold you. It stuns you, and the tears pause for just a second—before you’re wrapping desperate, weakened arms around him and sobbing even harder, albeit silently, into his shirt. 
“I don’t want to break up,” he whispers, his own voice shaky with understated emotion. “I’m sorry. Please don’t say that. I don’t want that.”
“What’s wrong with you?” You cry, a desperate plead caught between sobs that wrack your body against his against the wall. And he knows it’s not an accusation. It’s not an insult. It’s a question borne of confusion and fear. It’s what a child might ask a sick dog while tears stream down feverish cheeks. And it’s completely appropriate, considering he never tells you anything anymore and he’s only just realizing how scary that must be. Spencer is back from prison but you may as well still be living alone for all that you know about him. He tangles a hand in your hair and holds you against his chest, breathing you like nitrous oxide. 
“I don’t know,” he whispers. The room beyond blurs as he stares at nothing, focused only on the tingly euphoria of feeling you under his hands clashing with the ever-present and crushing shame that he couldn't do it sooner. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want you—to be sorry.” Shuddering breaths and gasps still cleave your sentences in half, and Spencer listens so intently he thinks there might be harmonics hidden in the layers of your voice. He clings to every syllable like you’re wielding the word of god in a five-foot-something body. “I just miss you so m—much. I want you to—to love me.”
“I do,” he promises immediately, lips pressing to your ear. “I do love you. So much. So much.”
When you don’t respond, he’s not exactly surprised. He almost asks what he can do, what you need—but is quite sure that’s not the right move. Instead he doesn’t say a thing. Only holds you.
Later, you’ll pull back and he’ll swim in your teary gaze, and then kiss you. He’ll trace silent apologies into every inch of your skin under the torrent of the shower, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make you understand. But for now, for the first time in months, you’re holding each other, and that’s all either of you need.  
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nottsangel · 2 months
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okay this is my first little idea that i’m sending in so don’t judge if it’s bad😭
but like imagine a love island au and you and theo are pared up and he’s touching you in bed and he’s like talking you thru it but at the same time tilling you to be quiet 😫
— love island au moodboard
“theo… we— we can’t” you whisper urgently, hoping not to wake the other islanders as theo’s hand roams over your body, squeezing your tits before slowly travelling to your aching core. you feel unbearably needy, after not having been touched by anyone else or even yourself in weeks since arriving at the villa. yet, it feels so wrong— mattheo is snoring loudly on the bed next to you, his arms wrapped tightly around his girl, and on the other side, you hear the soft, wet sounds of making out on lorenzo’s bed. but getting caught by your fellow islanders isn’t even the worst part— it’s the microphone you’re forced to wear 24/7 that makes you second-guess everything. it feels so… awkward to let everyone at home hear what you’re doing— to let them hear the filthy words theo’s whispering right into your ear.
“shhh, just let me take care of my girl. i know you’ve been craving for my touch, hm?” he teases, fully aware of how touch-deprived you’ve been, evident by all the little touches you’ve given him throughout the past few days, but too hesitant to take it further. you can’t help but feel yourself become wetter and wetter at theo’s touch, as you instinctively spread your legs a litter wider, inviting him in. “that’s a good girl. gonna make you feel so good.” he murmurs right into your ear, faces merely inches away from each other as you have your arms wrapped around his neck, clinging to him while you try to relax.
“tell me what you want.” he demands, his hand cupping your aching cunt and not giving you what you want— no, need, just yet. “i want to feel you, please. need it so bad.” theo chuckles condescendingly, his soft lips attached to your neck as he hungrily sucks on the sensitive skin, marking it with dark hickeys as his body presses intimately close to yours. “you want me to finger you in the same room as the others? while everyone at home can hear your pretty moans? naughty girl.” he taunts, his fingers teasing your clothed pussy, already dripping with arousal as you can only nod eagerly in response, gazing up at him with desperate, pleading eyes.
“please, theo, just— stop with the teasing and make me feel good, please?” you beg desperately, unable to take it any longer as you can feel your pussy throb at his words. he gazes down at you with a mischievous smirk, clearly enjoying how desperate you are for him as he slips his hand into your tight shorts and soaked underwear. “really? it’s this easy to make you wet?” he whispers seductively into your ear, his fingers slick with your arousal as he gently gathers your wetness. “you’re fucking adorable.”
you moan softly at his words, desperation taking over as you place your hand over his, seperated by the thin fabric of your shorts and panties, and push his hand deeper into you. “so desperate, hm? poor thing. let me help you, baby.” he growls, rubbing slow, tantalising circles on your aching clit, causing your lips to part, but no sound escapes. his fingers then wander to your dripping hole, pushing two fingers in at once, causing you to throw your head back at the full feeling. “fuck! theo, just like that!”
he groans at the cute moans slipping from your lips— god, how he wishes it was just you and him here, so he could make you scream his name until your throat hurts. but this is what you’re both dealing with now, and he’ll take whatever he can get. “shhh. you gotta be quiet for me, amore. think you can do that?” you nod obediently, biting down hard on your swollen lip as he starts rhythmically pumping his digits in and out of your soaked hole, and you so desperately hope the others won’t hear the slick, wet sounds coming from your shared bed.
“god, you’re so fucking sexy. do you know how hard it is for me to control myself when you moan right into my ear like this? wish i could take you right here and now, until you cum all over my cock.” his words are only driving you closer to the edge as his fingers curl up so perfectly, rubbing against your sweet spot, making you dig your sharp nails into his arm. “oh my god, right there!” his skilful fingers quicken as his soft lips captures yours in a passionate kiss in an attempt to silence your moans, knowing you’re close to the your release.
his other hand moves towards your tits, squeezing them firmly and toying with your hardened nipples, and that’s when you lose it— your orgasm hits you unexpectedly as you moan right into his mouth and arch your back, all your muscles tensing as your legs tremble uncontrollably. “that’s it, baby. there you go.” theo whispers soothingly, talking you through your orgasm as you slowly come down from your intense high. your chest heaves up and down, heart pounding wildly, when suddenly draco’s stern voice from the other side of the room causes you to flinch, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “so, are you guys done now? people are trying to sleep.”
ੈ♡˳
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melzula · 7 months
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Can you please write jealous Zuko? It can be however you like😊
a/n: i love jealous zuko! however this ended up being more angsty than i intended😭 hope you enjoy!
summary: a party at the palace leads to a deep revelation for zuko
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He was miserable.
The palace didn’t throw parties very often these days, but the recent conquering of another Earth colony was deemed a call for celebration, and so all of the noble families in the Capital City were invited to attend. A grand feast was held and praises were showered upon Ozai throughout the night. It was one of the rare times Zuko didn’t have to worry about his father’s wrath, and so he should have been enjoying himself.
But he couldn’t, not when he could see that across the way another boy was flirting with you right in front of him.
You were Zuko’s everything- his childhood best friend that he’d always held harbored feelings for. During his banishment he thought of you constantly, and upon his arrival he immediately asked you to be his girlfriend. You were sweet and friendly, easily approachable and always able to cheer him up despite his moodiness, you were perfect. And apparently this other boy could see this too.
You smile out of politeness and nod along to the boy’s rambling story about his fire bending skills and high IQ, not very interested in listening but too nice to brush him off. It infuriates Zuko to see someone else take advantage of your kindness, and he’s unable to just sit back and watch any longer.
A harsh hand lands upon the boy’s shoulder, startling both of you in the process. Zuko’s eyes are blazing with fury, his palm scorching the fabric of the boy’s robes and scaring the spirits out of him in the process.
“Can’t you take a hint? She doesn’t want to talk to you!” the Prince bellow angrily, prompting a few guests nearby to turn their heads curiously towards the commotion. A bit embarrassed at the sudden attention, you gently pull Zuko’s hand away and drag him out to the gardens before he can escalate the situation any further. The last thing you need is for him to cause a scene at his father’s party.
“What?” Zuko says defensively as you wordlessly walk through the palace hallways. “I was helping you!”
“You were acting jealous again,” you chide gently.
“No I wasn’t!” He argues defensively only to shrink under your pointed gaze. “…I was.”
“I love you, Zuko, but I don’t love how jealous you can get sometimes. I’m your girlfriend, don’t you trust me?”
“Of course I do!” He interjects quickly, almost offended at the notion.
“Then what is it? Why do you act this way?”
Zuko is silent, his eyes casted sullenly to the floor as you patiently wait for his answer. You take his hands in your own and give them a reassuring squeeze to let him know you’re there for him, and the act seems to coax him out of his stupor.
“I’m afraid you’ll change your mind about being with me, and once the right guy comes along you’ll realize you’re better off without me,” he admits quietly, almost ashamed to voice the thought out loud.
“Zuko…” you utter sadly, heartbroken at the fact that he could even believe such a thing.
“Why do you want to be with a boy who’s been exiled from his own country before? Whose own father burned his face? Who’s so messed up in every way possible?”
Gently carefully cupping his face in your hands, you tilt his head upward to meet your sincere gaze. His eyes are glossy with tears he refuses to let fall, and your heart aches for the poor boy before you. You wish you could take away all of his hurt in agony, but you can’t, so you do your best to take away his insecurity instead.
“I wish you could yourself the way I see you,” you tell him lovingly. “You are more than enough for me, more than I could ever ask for. You’re strong, you’re brave, you’re smart. You’re you. I love you, Zuko. No one’s ever going to get into the way of that.”
He says nothing in response but simply yanks you into his arms for the tightest hug you’ve ever possibly received. You know he isn’t the best at words or emotions, but his embrace conveys that he is grateful for every word to come out of your mouth.
He knows he may be jealous at times, but he also knows that he doesn’t have to be anymore.
Because you’re not going anywhere.
| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303
| zuko tags: @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @taeeemin
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teamatsumu · 8 months
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how about soft! dom xav (& rafayel if u want/can) with a shy, nervous reader?
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warnings: fem!reader, smut, nsfw, swearing, soft!dom xavier and rafayel
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XAVIER:
I firmly believe that Xavier is a soft dom more than anything else.
He is often unexpressive, withdrawn, and so it can be hard to tell what he is thinking or feeling. But this does not apply to you.
Xavier knows you are shy, and often get anxious. So he tries his best to communicate with you even if it is tough for him.
In bed, he can almost feel your apprehension. It hides in your tense muscles, every fiber taut and strained. He can sense your uncertainty, unsure of what to do, so he takes the lead.
He will maneuver you into a position he knows you would both enjoy, pinning you in place and making sure you are stimulated enough that all the worries dissipate from your mind until it is nothing but mush, focused only on how good his cock feels, the electricity shooting up your spine from how his thumb works your clit.
His lips are pressed close to the shell of your ear, and though he is not big on words, his moans of your name are answer enough.
“So good. You’re so good, darling.”
It’s simple words, but coming from him, they light a fire in you. They make you arch your back up to him, and Xavier hums in approval. He hooks his hands under your knees and pulls them up to your chest into a fucking mating press, until the angle has you creaming around his rapidly pounding cock.
And he will moan in tandem with you, almost as if deriving his pleasure from yours, and when he is close to finishing, he huffs in your ear about how he’s going to fill your pussy up and how you’re going to take it. Not a request, an order, and you comply enthusiastically.
Aftercare is detailed and delicate, with him running his hands over every joint he bent harshly, making sure he soothed your aches. Best believe he will run a bath for both of you to relax in as well.
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RAFAYEL:
Let's establish one thing about Rafayel; he is a yapper.
He talks, and talks, and talks, and that includes bedroom activities.
During your first time, he can tell just how nervous you are, so his way of reassurance is with his words.
He’s always teasing, always sassy, but it dims when he sees your apprehension, and it is replaced with sweet encouragement, telling you just how much he loves you, or how pretty you are, or how he’s going to take good care of you.
He guides you through it, hoping that vocalizing will help you become more comfortable.
“Lay back for me baby, just like that. You look so pretty like this.”
As things start getting hotter and heavier, best believe the talking will get filthier. And his voice will get more and more broken.
“Such a pretty little pussy. Can’t believe you were hiding this from me all this time. My cock could’ve been buried in you a lot earlier if I knew.”
He guides you with gentle but firm hands into positions he knows will hit all the right angles, and while his cock has you mewling and squirming under him, his teeth nip at your jaw and neck, leaving tiny marks like he’s marking his property.
“Need everyone to know who you belong to, sweetheart. Nobody else is gonna fuck this little cunt. Only me.”
And it’s this dirty tongue and furiously pounding cock that pulls orgasm after orgasm out of you, cooing and crooning about how sexy you look and how he wants to immortalize you in a painting forever.
Aftercare is more lighthearted. Rafayel is back to his teasing, whiny self. He makes quips about how you moaned so good for him until you groan in embarrassment and try to push him away. He is undeterred though, he has ammunition to banter back and forth with you. Also, he made you cum so many times that you couldn’t even count. This man’s ego isn’t coming down to Earth anytime soon.
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hoshigray · 9 months
Text
𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐌𝐄 [& 𝑭𝑼𝑪𝑲 𝑴𝑬] 𝐔𝐏!! | tōji fushiguro
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: It's bad enough you got a crush on your gym instructor, Toji; however, it gets worse when things become too close and personal for this relationship...But who says you shouldn't get a little praise for your hard work?
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: personal trainer! Toji x fem! reader - explicit contents; minors DNI - unrequited/crushing » mutual pining - sex in a public space (gym locker room + showers) - shower sex - thigh riding - oral (m! + f! receiving) - ball massaging - face + throat-fucking - breast fondling + nipple play - against a wall + upstanding citizen + standing 69 positions - praise - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - cervix fucking - pet names (angel, baby, doll, dollface, good girl, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - unprotected sex (doesn't shoot inside tho) - overstimulation - cameos: Haibara and Ino (gym manager and employee) - the reader accidentally walks into the men's locker room (they're a bit dumb, forgive them, lol) - mention of sweat spit and tears.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.4k (i'm about to lose my mind, bro.)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: mannnnnn, the way this draft has been collecting dust, it was supposed to be released on Dec!! ofc my first fic back would be for toji lmao. anyways, i hope you enjoy, and tysm for 4.7k y'all are so sweet ;;w;; and thank yeww @ramonathinks for beta-reading, mwah mwah
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“That one was weak; do another three.”
“Gahh– …You’re such an asshole, Fushiguro.”
“Heh, like that’s anythin’ new. C’mon, let’s go!”
We’re counting down to the last weeks of the year, and so many people have already promised affirmations for themselves in the upcoming year. In terms of this year, you can’t say much. You’ve done your work, hung out with the same people since last year, and probably learned to spoil yourself more. Maybe another thing you can be proud of is that you crossed some TV series off your “get-to-watch” list, so go you!
Although, besides those minimal things, there is one change in your life that you’ve committed yourself to. One thing that you didn’t expect to be so in tune with throughout the past half of the year. It started as a forced challenge because your friend Miwa needed someone to motivate her to maintain her gym membership. What was once something you’d thought a one-time thing gradually became something you enjoy — something you felt proud doing!
Not only has your knowledge of your body and how to keep it in good shape improved over half a year, but your love for the community has grown more and more. The gym you go to feels like a second home, with many people you’ve gotten to know and befriend along your journey. Even the manager, Haibara Yu, practically treats you like a sibling after seeing you every other day. The same goes for the front desk associate, Ino, who is the goofiest goofball you’ve ever met (not to mention the best drinking buddy). 
But – if you really had to pick – there is one person who has made this experience more enjoyable and worthwhile. “Hahhh!! There, I did them! Aren’t you supposed to be my spotter, not a shit-talker?”
“I’m doin’ my job, aren’t I?” Toji Fushiguro, your gym instructor for the past few months, has been a driving force in your physical journey. With his help, you’ve been disciplining yourself in and outside of the facility, maintaining a good diet, and keeping your body active in a balanced fashion. The gratitude you have for him supersedes all. But above all else, throughout the years, the two of you have gotten pretty close and know a good chunk about each other to call yourselves friends – at least, that’s what you’ve been doing. “Alright, that’s enough lifting for today; time for stretches.”
Aside from a friend, there is something else you refer to him as – something you’d rather die than admit out loud. Toji, your trainer, is your gym crush. Well, your crush in general. 
Can you really blame yourself, though? Look at the man! When you first look at him, his physique alone is enough to keep you staring at him for hours and hours on end. Strong, bulky arms that look like they could pick up five treadmills in one sitting and with veins that decorate up to his forearm can effortlessly grab the attention of the normal eye. He’s wearing his black fitted tee, so tight that it was as if it was vacuum sealed to perfectly showcase the outline of his abdomen, ribs, and pectorals. And it doesn’t help from the back view either; you can’t count how many times you fell into a short trance from admiring his gorgeous back, from his trapezius to his waist. Every time the man flexes his biceps and triceps, all you can do is internally thank the gods for sculpting such a man to be in front of you. And those beautiful thighs and calves shaped from his black leggings and shorts? Damn.
But the thing about him that has you squeak more than a mouse are his eyes. Forest green orbs that can shift into a stern concentration whenever he’s working on a machine or when he’s observing your form and finds whatever needs correcting. Then there are times when they are mellow and soft when you’re speaking with him or when he’s deep in thought about something until you catch his attention. Then he’d throw a small smile at you — your biggest weakness. The scar on his lip being lifted to a curl never fails to put your stomach into knots.
He’s such an attractive man from the first moment you ever laid your eyes on him. You were bound to fall in love with him one way or another. It just sucks that it’s under such a professional relationship that you have to keep this little unrequited love to yourself.
Which is getting harder and harder every day, especially now when the guy is so close to your face when he’s helping you stretch. Oh, dear lord. 
Every time you are done lifting weights, Toji will have you do stretches. He has you do them before and after a workout as they give your muscles time to warm up and straighten from the stress you put on them. So now, as you’re laying on your mat, Toji puts one hand on your right leg to keep it grounded on the floor and his other hand on the back of your left to push it up to your chest. The position has the two of you so close, him being situated between your legs and observing your breathing; it’s so wrong of you to dwell your mind into other things – other raunchier things.
And when he brings both your legs up to your chest, how the fuck are you supposed to calm your heart from exploding!?? You have to close your eyes during all this to not be pulled in by the examination of his gaze under his raven bangs. This is, without a doubt, the best worst part of the workouts. Thankfully, this is the last workout of the week, and the gym is about to close within an hour and a half. 
Toji breaks the suffering silence between you two. “Y’re still stiff; take deeper breaths f’r me.”
Oh, if only he knew how your dirty mind took that sentence. You chew on your lip with a gulp, “Maybe I still have a little energy in me that still wants to exercise.”
That made him chortle. “Is that so? Well, maybe after your stretches, you can get on the stairmaster for a few minutes.”
You gawk at him, only furthering the smirk on his face. “Are you serious!?? You promised we wouldn’t do any cardio until next week.”
“Well, next week is around the corner,” Toji moves your knees a bit to the left, bending them further down to your chest so his face could be a little closer to yours. Your brain almost short circuits at the movement, trying to distract yourself from the fact that his groin is mere inches away from your shorts. “So, since ya got the spirit, be a doll and do a few minutes on the machine, okay? Five minutes.”
Your breathing is so slow that you’re too scared to move. Your lips pressed to a thin line to conceal the quiver, and your eyes don’t dare venture down. You already know your body is going through its own internal turmoil, a throbbing sense occurring in your lower regions the more you keep looking at Toji, who lifts a brow from awaiting your response. Oh, this man is going to kill me.
“…Five minutes.” 
“Atta girl.” With a scoff, he finally straightens himself and places your legs on the mat. Toji then stands on his feet and grabs his bag. “Gonna head for the showers; finish up those stretches and head for the stepmaster. See ya later, Y/n.” And you watch him leave for the men’s locker room, finally having room to breathe. Before you can conclude your stretches with a cobra and child’s pose, you grumble to yourself in a whisper.
Why the hell did I have to fall in love with such a snarky, gruff, older guy like him…
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
You enter the locker room after completing the instructed exercise. Your mind is dizzy from walking on the step machine for about fifteen minutes, and your legs are mere minutes from turning into jelly. You curse Toji internally for the insufferable torture you’ve stressed on your poor limbs. 
No matter, though; you’re finally done for the evening and can head home to your soft bed. The gym will close soon, so perhaps you could use the locker room showers to freshen up. But then again, after the strain you’ve put on your body for almost two hours, all you want to do is be home and listen to your favorite music. I don’t feel like cooking today…  
Further into the room, you can hear the sound of someone using the showers, indicating you had picked the right idea to head home. You head for the locker side to grab your items to put in your bag before leaving, and it’s then that you hear the water stop running from where the showers are. Oh, shit,  make this quick, Y/n!
In front of you is the locker with the number you’re familiar with — where you always leave your things, like your own spot. You open it only to find….nothing is in the locker? Huh? Where are my leggings? And my phone??
Come to think of it, where’s your duffel bag that you usually leave on the bench against the lockers? You’ve never had a problem with people stealing from you in this place, so how does a bag full of your stuff magically disappear? There is a bag in here, but it’s definitely not yours. And now that you get a good look, you start to notice that the color of the lockers is of a different, darker shade than what you’re usually accustomed to. Wait a minute, am I in the wrong—
“Y/n?”
You go still at the familiar voice. Oh no, please, God, no. There’s no way. Your eyes teeter to the corner as you ever-so-slowly turn to the direction where that voice was coming from. And, of course, it was your personal trainer, who is—OH MY GOD!!!
Toji stands afar on the opposite side of you from the showers, without clothing, his body and hair completely drenched from water. The only thing that covers him is a white towel wrapped around his lower body. His body, which you’re used to seeing being snug tight by his gym clothes, is out for you to see as water trickled down from his clavicle, pecs, ribcage, and abs. For a split second, you take in as much of the image as you can, storing this as it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity in your mind (maybe to fuel more of your erotic fantasies when you go home). But you avert your gaze when your eyes travel down his abs, counting each one until you reach below his belly button, where strays of dark hair become more prominent with a trail down his pelvis and—Okay, stop looking, stop looking!!
“M–Mr. Fushiguro!?” You croak, eyes wide with realization at what you’ve just done. Your dumbass just walked into the men’s locker room without checking first. And to add salt to the wound, your crush is the first person to catch you in the act, “O-Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to walk in here! I’ll get going—“
“No, no, Y/n, calm down,” Toji walks to where you’re standing; a mini-heart attack was about to be deployed until the older man turned to the side to grab for something in his bag. He pulls out a smaller towel. “Ya walked in here on accident, right?”
You gulp, seeing the steam from the shower still leave from Toji’s nude body. “Uhm, yeahhh, I don’t know where my head was at. Sorry…”
The gym instructor scoffs at your apology. “It happens; must’ve been a bit light-headed from the exercise and forgot where y’re at. Heh, guess those five minutes did more damage than I thought.”
“Ahaha, yeah, it was…pretty….dreadful……” Were you distracted? Yup. Because Toji used the towel he pulled from his bag to wipe off the water from his arms and face. You couldn’t help but survey the man’s movements, watching the small white towel brush on his triceps and glide down to his torso. You continue watching the small towel until your eyes drift to the happy trail on his pelvis. Your breathing goes uneven, thinking of more indecent things that connect with the trail of hair and the limb that’s shielded by the towel around Toji’s waist.
“…–ou there…Y/n?” Your name said to you snaps you back, realizing where you are and what you were doing. Your eyes crawl back to Toji’s face, who throws a small smile at you. “Eyes up here, sweetie.” Sweetie?!? If the floor could give way and swallow you, that would be appreciated. “Is there anythin’ else you need to tell me while y’re here?”
No, I’m in the men’s locker room, so I need to hurry and get the fuck out! “Uhmm, n-nope, nothing at all! So…I better get going now. See you later, Mr. Fushiguro!” You turn on the heel of your foot to head for the door, only able to take about five giant steps before Toji stops you again.
“How was it today?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake, what now!? You look over your shoulder. “Excuse me?”
“The workout. How was it?”
“It…It was, umm, alright, I guess. I feel like I could’ve done better on the weights.” 
“And why is that?”
Your body turns to have your front fully face him again. “Well, I mean, I was struggling at the last few reps…I’m sure you noticed, too, since you scolded me about it.”
He hums. “Ya know I correct you because, I know, you can do better, right, Y/n?” It was rhetoric, but you humor him with a slow nod. He brings the small towel to his head and dries his damp hair. “I’ve had many clients who come at me with everything they got or burned out before the first two months. But don’t worry, Y/n, I can tell you take pride in what we’re doing, and it’s good to know…” 
His words drown out from your ears. You didn’t mean for it to – you really didn’t. But while Toji was fixing his hair, you snuck more peeks at his body, enjoying his side profile. Admiring the way his arms move and flex, following the rocky silhouette of his abs that lead down to the towel again, you gasp at the dent of something that appears to be between Toji’s legs. Good lord, even with the cotton material covering him, you can still see it and—
“….Y/n.” Oh no, I did it again. You gulp with eyes venturing back to Toji’s face; the grin grew broader than before. “That's twice, sweet thing.” 
“S–Sorry, Mr. Fushiguro. It’s just that you have a...uhhh…” The heat in your ears makes it hard to concentrate on looking at the ground, anything to avoid your instructor’s gaze. “…..areallynicebody—“
“Hmm? I didn’t hear that, sweetie,” Sweetie? Sweetie!? Why'd he call me that? What you should be questioning is why that nickname made your stomach flip. But who are you kidding — if anyone had a crush on their instructor and were called a cute name like that, of course, they’d be as hot as a volcano. “Didn’t catch that, say it fr’ me again.”
“I–I said that,” Oh for fuck’s sake, this is so embarrassing! “You have a nice body…An attractive body, really…” The heat on your cheeks and ears is reaching heights that would have you combust at any moment. It’s what you’d hope for, honestly. It’s bad enough you’re stuck in the men’s locker room for not paying attention; now you’re here admitting to your instructor that you got the hots for him. God, please strike me here and now!
Toji says nothing after you say that, and it has your nerves at an all-time high, wondering if you should wait for his reply or just dash for the door and hope no one sees you leaving the men’s locker room. However, his voice breaks the silence, “I can say the same fr’ you.”
Oh, stop it. “Oh, please, no need to butter me up, Mr. Fushigu—“
“I’m serious.” He shuts down your argument down your argument before you can even finish. “C’mere.”
Why did you do what you were about to do? You could’ve just declined, exited the facility, and headed straight home to wallow away about this entire interaction, maybe find a different gym to form a membership with. But you didn’t. Instead, with downcast eyes, you slowly approached your instructor, who stood behind the locker bench. “Closer,” he says, noting how you’re about two arms length away from him, which you meekly decrease to one. “You don’t think ya got a nice body?” 
The adjacency between you two was too much for you, your face minutes from imploding. Too shy for words, you settle for a nod to give.
“How come?”
For God’s sake, this is not a conversation you want to have now with your crush instructor in the middle of the men’s locker room. “I…Well, Mr. Fushiguro—“
“Toji,” he cuts you off, discarding the small towel to the top of his bag. “Y’re over here tellin’ me I look good when you’re the one lookin’ like you could strike any guy that walks up in this place. Doncha think so?” 
Again, your eyes avoided his toweled figure, focusing on the tiled floor beneath your sneakers. “I guess, but…Toji, when compared to you, I—“
“Then that’s what ya shouldn’t be doin’, who told you to compare y'rself to others?” Toji brings a hand to your chin to make your avoidant peer placed on him, a move you were not mentally strapped in for. “I’m me, and y’re you, right?” 
“Right…”
“And that’s a good thing,” the hand on your chin slides down to the inside of your hoodie, his forefinger sneaking under the band of your sports bra. It makes your breathing stop. “But ya know what else I think?”
“What?” You sounded so low – so tiny – you didn’t know if he could hear you. He then brings his face close to your ear, and you could’ve sworn you almost felt your heart jump out of your throat. His free hand comes around your waist, pulling you even closer to him. The cotton of the towel now brushed your leg, and you could sink into a pool of embarrassment at the gasp you let out.
His voice was hoarse and low, the air from his nostrils grazing the skin of your ear. “…I think y’r body is the sexiest thing I’ve seen.” 
The sentence hit you like a truck, your heart almost giving in to a complete shutdown. “Huh–Ohhhh, wait,” Toji takes a nibble of your ear while his hand slithers your hoodie off of you, freeing your arms and covered chest where he creeps his hand inside next. You whimper at his fingers on your nipples that harden at his grinding touch. “Toji, wait, please wait…Do you really mean—“
“Mhmm, I do,” He coos, and a kiss to your neck nearly has you give way and lose balance; lucky for you, Toji was smart enough to have a leg between yours. “Now that I have you here, I’ll prove it.” 
“We’re—Ahhnnn…But we’re in the men’s locker room,” Toji brings his face up to look at you, your half-lidded eyes locked with his emerald orbs. “Someone could see us…”
Your worries are taken with a caress to your cheek. “Don’t worry about other people when y’re with me. I gotcha, baby.” 
“And I’m…Ohooo, really sweaty…”
“Nothin’ a shower can’t fix.”
And before you refute him again, Toji places his scarred lips onto yours, a shocked moan muffled as he kisses and sucks on your bottom lip. The hand in your bra now positions to the back of your neck, positioning you for him to deepen the kiss once you allow him access to your mouth. And once you kiss him back, all the reins of restraint have been discarded along with your hoodie to the floor.
The sounds of lips smacking get louder by the second, the passion in the kiss unraveling when you bring your hands to cup his cheek and have his face practically glued to yours. And Toji complies, shoving his tongue to tease and play with yours. The hand that was on your waist comes down to your ass for him to grope with the flesh, urging more of your sobs to be taken from him. Is it possible for your brain to turn into mush from a kiss? You’re finding that out now, breaking the kiss to gather whatever air you can before Toji claims your lips again.
The leg you’re riding on is nestled between your thighs, rubbing against the groin of your shorts. With every kiss and hump comes a grind on his leg, and it alleviates the growing ache that’s flourishing in your panties. Shivers travel up your spine and heighten your horniness, this elated feeling so dangerous that you could turn into putty at any second.
Toji lets go of your lips with a heavy pant, breathlessly snickering at his work; turning his cute client into a mess flipped a switch he’s been dying to indulge with. “Mmmm, y’re too fuckin’ cute, baby,” he wipes your mouth before letting you go; you hold back a whine when he removes his warm figure from you and steps back. It’s then that your instructor finally removes the towel that’s been shielding a now-discernible tent. The white towel meets the floor, and you follow his happy trail to meet with his erection, a sight that makes your jaw drop. The older man takes a seat on the bench behind him, and his legs spread out for his dick and balls to be ever-so-present and seen.
“Ya see how crazy you and y’r body make me?” He bites his lip, getting more turned on with you marveling at him and his length. “C’mere, angel, lemme see what you can do.” It takes a good mental slap to snap out of your frozen state and look at the thing you’ve been imagining all these months. Now, when the chance has finally been brought to you, how could you pass this up?  Following Toji’s command, you come close and go to your knees between his legs. 
The sheer size and girth of his length nearly put you in a trance, your eyes taking every detail of his erection before your eyes. Every dent and curve, the prominent veins from the underside, and the oddly pretty pink tip where bits of precum dare protrude from the urethra. Your raised hand has hesitance, yet Toji is quick to assuage your unease, taking your hand with his and wrapping it on his cock. The rough skin on your palm hitches your breath, “Hmmm, oh fuck. Yeah, just like that, princess.”
And there he goes again, egging you on with more cute pet names. Your hand slides up and down along his shaft from the tip to the base, and the sensation of its veins is so raunchy for your overwhelmed fingertips. Toji’s gruff hums to your touches stick to your ears the most, a sound you never in your wildest dreams thought you’d be lucky enough to hear. You want to keep hearing them, want them to be stored in your memory for as long as you can. And when you meekly tease his glans with a tiny lick, the hiss he expresses turns you on even more, so much so that you take the tip with patience and start to suck.
Toji throws his head back to the lockers behind him; the feeling of your tongue rolling around his girth as you inhale his cock is crazy. Fuck, it felt so good – he has to fight the urge to rut into your hollow cheeks and puffy lips. “Hahhh…Mmmm, damn….Ahahaha, ya know how to use that mouth of y’rs, Y/n. Keep suckin’ me off like that, and I’ll—Ohhh! Shit, shit, shiiiit,” he wasn’t prepared for you to take in his entire erection to the hilt. The tightness of your throat around him sends shivers, having to use the bench to grip onto.
You bob your head along his length, a hand accompanying the motions to further the exhilaration. Spit and come wet your palm, yet you’re too focused on the task to care, the haze of your brain increasing every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. The jerk of his hips entails that you’re doing a good job, Toji bringing a hand to the back of your head when you kiss and lick on the head of his cock. You take note, assuming that it’s his weak spot, and continue to suck and tease the tip some more, massaging his testicles which almost had him choke. 
“—Hnnmph! Fuckin’ shit, I can’t…” Toji then has enough of this ribbing pleasure, unable to hold it anymore. With a careful hold on your skull, he stands from the bench and plows your face with his member. The harsh hit of his hips propelling his dick down to the deep crevices of your throat was sudden; the assault on your uvula results in your gag reflex; however, Toji was here to calm you down, “It’s alright, angel, breathe fr’ me.” He caters to you with a mediocre rhythm to the hips, the movement relieving the abrupt stress to your throat as you hum on his cock. You find purchase on his thighs to stabilize yourself while he plays with you orally, dialing up the pumps to your mouth until it reaches an erratic mood. Fuck, it has your head ringing, but the growing twinges and throbs between your legs practically excite you for more. Goddamn, it feels so good. So fucking good. “Jesus Christ—Y/n, I’m ‘bout to cum. Keep swirlin’ that tongue…Nnmmm, fuuck, right there, right there—Ahhhck!!”
His release comes with a few rough hits to your lips, his balls hitting your chin until they’re pressed against it. He pups his load into you, and you take it like a champ, letting the fluid venture down as the girth pulsates around your walls. His choked breathing eventually simmers down, giving it a few long seconds before he steadily removes himself from your warm cavity. The last remnants of his white substance paint your tongue, your saliva coating him. And with a voluntary swallow, you open your mouth again to showcase your clean change.
“Heh, didn’t even have to tell you,” Toji chortles, bringing a thumb to wipe your chin. “Good girl.”
KA-CHA! CREEEEK!!
Wide green eyes shoot wide along with yours, and the both of you go frozen rigid. That was most definitely the sound of a door opening. The door to the men’s locker room, where you are on your knees, in front of your personal instructor, with his dick out for the whole world to see. The blood in your body runs cold, and your stomach drops to the chilly floor. Oh, it’s over. It’s done. Your life is officially coming to an end. Welp, it’s time for me to think of a good suicide note when I get home and—
Pause on that. Because one moment you were thinking of your demise from this discomfiting situation, next you’re being dragged by Toji to the other part of the locker room, the showers. He swiftly opens a curtain and throws you both inside with a close, and the wet tiles soaked to your socks have you cringe, so you take them off.  
“Hello?” It’s a guy’s voice, of course — Ino’s. The young man is probably inspecting the male locker rooms before they close for the night like usual. You don’t dare speak so much as a letter when the footsteps draw closer to the showers, your heart rate spiking to a nervous high, and your breathing shallow. This is worse; now you’re in a confined space, face-to-face with Toji, who is utterly nude, towel left back on the bench. Your eyes locked with his, and your ears to the sounds of shoes entering the plane. “Anyone here? Saw some stuff at the front.”
“Yeah, I’m here,” your expression turns to sheer terror, wide orbs looking at the raven-haired man who spoke. No! Why would you say something!? 
“Hmm? Toji, that you?” Ino’s voice comes closer, in front of the shower curtain that shields you from his field of vision. Your heart is on the verge of dropping to your intestines. “You’re still here? Figured you’d be home by now.”
“Nah, I’m still here. Just about to finish up and head out.” Toji then turns on the faucet, cold peeps of water hitting your sweaty skin, panties, and sports bra. And, of course, it catches you off guard. OH FUUUUUU—  You don’t scream. You can’t. Instead, you shield your mouth and turn your back to Toji after giving him the most outstanding death glare of your life, which the older finds amusement in. You wipe your face from the water, cursing internally at this entire predicament. 
“Oh, okay, cool. I was just worried someone left their stuff on that bench over there. Carry on, and have a good night!” Ino dismisses himself and leaves the showers, and you exhale a silent sigh of relief. Oh, thank goodness…
Toji, on the other hand, sees your relieved state, and he can’t help but grin to himself with what he’s about to do. Moving closer to you, he brings his wet hands to your sports bra and immediately goes to fondling your breasts. A moan sneaks past you at the contact, prompting him to grope you even more. “T–Toji,” the water gradually gets warmer, juxtaposing with his cold fingers. “Stop, we have to leave, this is—Ohooo…” He tweaks your nipples with his forefinger and thumbs, and a leg sneaks in between yours.
“Relax, dollface, it’s just you and me here,” Oh, sweet Lord, you almost fell to your knees when he whispered to your ear and a teasing lick to your helix. “Got ya all to myself, now…” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, his wet hair brushing your cheek while he snakes his hand down into your panties. The way his fingers graze your clit again has you arch your back to him, another hushed shriek when he bullies his way between your folds. 
“Hey, Toji?” Ino’s voice again. Back to anxious stakes now that Toji’s toying with you. Goddamn it, Ino! What are you still doing here!? “I noticed you left your towel on the bench over there. But I also saw Y/n’s hoodie there.” Oh, fuck me!! Shit, shit, shit—"Ohhmph!!"
With quickness, you covered your mouth before your moan caught the ears of the front desk employee. And the reason for that is that Toji pulled down your soaked underwear and gave your chasm a sudden lick. If Ino weren’t back here, you’d give your personal trainer the nastiest kick to the throat you could ever do. But when he inserts a finger inside you, your aggression withered away in seconds. 
“Huh? Ohh, yeah, ‘bout that,” Toji stands back up and continues to finger you, chuckling at the sight of your trembling figure using the wall as leverage. “I saw ‘em before headin’ to the locker room. We talked for a while, but then they said they needed to change and told me to hold their hoodie for ‘em.” He says it so casually, all the while scraping your inner walls with the tip of his forefinger, summoning hushed cries that turn to silent screams when his free hand comes down to playfully pinch and press on your clitoris. God, this is too much torture for one night. 
Ino keeps questioning. “Really? I had someone check the other locker rooms, and she said she didn’t see anyone or anything except for a few personal items and leggings in one of the lockers. I’m guessing those would be Y/n’s, but where could they be?” Little did he know that you were just a curtain pull away from being found, chewing hard on your lip to quash your screams from the erratic swiping on your clit and the curving hits of his digits in your wetness.
“Mmmm, they probably are at another part of the gym or waitin’ for me at the front.” He lies effortlessly, yet his attention is still on you as he removes his fingers from you, the pleasure subsiding from the removal. Instead, he brings his erection in between your folds and humps you, and the feeling of his dick on your lips worsens the throbs in your awaiting cunt. With the heat coming from the shower and your uneven breaths, you’re bound to faint at any moment. 
“Ahh, makes sense. Alright, I’ll try and find them then,” you don’t say anything, just hesitant breaths when you feel the tip of Toji’s cock align and lightly push to your slick-coated entrance. Holy fuck, this is actually happening! Your lips quiver when Toji comes down to your ear to tell you to relax your body from tension, quietly maneuvering you by pulling your lower half to him. You do big inhales and exhales while the man pushes his cockhead to enter your cunt, wincing at the few seconds of pain that accompany each push. “See you later, Toji, and I put your towel on the hood next to your shower for when you’re done. Good night!”
“See ya.” And with Toji’s dismissal, Ino’s footsteps draw farther and farther from where you two are. And the moment you hear the locker room door slam close, Toji pushes the entire cockhead inside of you. Finally, you can squeal out to your heart’s content, balling your fists on the shower wall while your personal trainer wedges his length inside of you and stretches your walls. The girth was definitely something you knew would be an obstacle to accommodate, and it’s worse when your slit keeps clamping around the foreign limb invading inside. Tears begin to swell from the stinging touch, not that they would be distinguished by the shower water hitting behind you and Toji.
“Haahh, ahahhnn, mmmm,” Your wails seep out from your system right as the base of his cock kisses your lower region lips. And after a few seconds, he starts with a slow pace. Knowing that you can feel every dent and vein within you is insane to comprehend; the heat across your cheeks cranks up due to the euphoric sensations. “Ohhhh, my God, Tojiii. I’m so full…”
Toji pecks on your shoulder, “Yeah, sweet thing? I bet so. Just be a good girl and keep grippin’ on me like that, alright? Gonna start movin’ now…” His hips rut into your vagina, pulling his shaft slowly outward and rushing it back inward. Holy shit, it felt so dreamlike — having him actually move inside of you. But it was very much real; having his pelvis meeting the flesh of your ass was proof of such.
A hand snakes down to your clitoris, and a gasp leaves your lips at the brush of his thumb rubbing against it. Your legs tremble at the flick of his finger on your bud, and the pace of his thrusts crank up in speed, making it hard to concentrate on one thing. So many senses are being activated all at once; the shower water raining down on your back, the exhilarating combination of Toji’s dick grinding down on your insides, and the swipes and pinches on your precious clitoris. God, it was all too much. 
“Arch some more fr’ me, princess,” Toji gets up to push your back further down, the walls of your chasm clinging onto him as the more exposed opening gives room for you to be plowed. “Hnnmm, shit, feels so good…Hey, let’s try somethin’ different.”
By the time the last bit of his sentence could be registered, he already had you turned to face him, folding your arms around his neck. You didn’t know what for until he hoisted you up, and then you instinctively grabbed hold for dear life before your back hit the wall, your legs wrapped around him while he held you by the thighs. Toji brings his member back to your labia to insert it back inside, and you two moan at the contact again. Oh, this was different – never have you been lifted like this. And to be elevated by your gym crush, in this connotation, is enough to have you appalled.
But what made your breath hitch the most was Toji’s face being up close and personal. The bangs stuck to his forehead thanks to the shower water; his jet-black hair was wet and slicked. Trails flow down his face, drops of water plummeting from his nose and chin. And – oh, sweet Jesus – those green eyes of his, so striking as if they could pierce right through you. They were piercing through you. He took in your expression just as you were his, eyes filled with wanton desire, and it was all directed towards you – for you. He flashes a small smile, teeth peeking from beneath his scarred lips.
Oh, my God. You turn to the side to hide your face from his gaze; it definitely wasn’t the water that was making your cheeks and ears hot at that moment. But that didn’t fly with Toji. He sneaks into a rut that has you jump on his cock, the new position giving his dick an angle to hit your cervix. Because of that, the jab erupts a shriek you had no preparation for withholding. 
“Heh, aht, aht, don’t do that,” Oh, he knows he’s in control of this entire situation; you can hear it in his patronizing chortle. “Don’t hide that pretty face from me, doll,” he kisses your cheek and trails down to the crook of your neck. “Let me hear you—Aiishhh! Oh, fuuck…” 
Once Toji begins to jerk his hips to you, you dwell into a pleasure that you never knew existed. Toji’s length scrapes your inner walls like crazy, like a euphoric itch. The fact that you’re bouncing on the cock of your personal trainer is scary to comprehend. Having him see you like this, hearing you moan and wail for him, you never felt more exposed in your entire life. And also, him holding you like you weigh nothing and fucking you in the men’s locker room showers?! What the actual fuck!? This is actually so embarrassing – I could die! 
But why would you? The commotion between your legs feels way too good to bring this to a stop – you two are already joined in a union, so why stop? Every stroke to your slit sends a shiver up your spine, clamping onto him every time he brushes up on your sweet spots that make your nerves tingle. And the occasional jabs to your tender cervix? Damn, the stimulation was enough to have you faint with the heat growing tenfold.
“Mmmff, hoohhh, ohhhhh,” your cries are drowned out by the shower, only heard by Toji. Speaking of, this position gives you proximity to observe his expression. His eyebrows furrowed, eyes shut as if he’s in the zone. The huffs of breath he takes with every roll of his pelvis are so hot to the ear that you wouldn’t mind listening to them all day. Anytime the walls of your wetness clamp onto him, he moans and hushed curses at the feeling of you wanting him. He’s an attractive man, but, holy fuck, this was a sight you thought you’d never see in a million years. 
“—Khhhh! Hnmph, ahhhh,” Through the gruff pants, Toji opens his eyes half-lidded, catching you in the moment of staring right at him. You clench onto him; why does this man have to look so fucking sexy!? He smirks, “How we feelin’ now, baby?”
“Hahhh, I–I’m—Ohhh!! Fucking shiiiitt,” you cry out when he slams deep into you, making your toes curl, and your words come out in slurs. “It’s too muuchh, Tojiii, ughhh!! T–Tooo muuuuch…” 
“Ya gettin’ close?” Oh, yes, you were. You could feel it through the trembles climbing up your fibers. Your brows trench at the high, and Toji was mean enough to sneak a pinch to the clitoris without you noticing. Your legs tighten around his waist, and you shake your head hurriedly. He chuckles, releasing your clit from his rough fingers and putting his forehead to yours. “C’mon, angel, I won’t know what you want if ya don’t say it.”
Fuck, he’s such a meanie. You love it so fucking much. You mewl to him, “Pleaseee, Tojiii, I want it so bad!”
He lifts a brow. “Want what?” 
“—To cum!! Pleasepleaseee, I wanna cum on you, I want it—Ahaahhnn!!” Fuck, it’s coming. Almost there. 
That’s all he needed to hear, the grin on his face broadening at your response. “Cum on me, then. I’m right here to catch ya, princess.” His hand returns to your clitoris, pressing down on the delicate button to the point where all he can hear is your sweet screams of lust. His thrusts now get erratically fast, having you rebound to the hilt of his length, the smacks of skin slapping against each other fill the confined space of the shower. And the climb of your aroused high increases until it comes crashing down; you let out one last howl as the electric shocks course through your body, and your release is freed. Your walls squeeze hard onto Toji as you indulge in your climax; him pistoning his cock to your sensitive labia adds to the chilling sensitivity. Your cunt flutters around his cock while you experience your crescendo, your eyes screwed shut to enhance the experience, not aware of Toji watching you ride out your orgasm on him. 
The trembles calm down, the shocks subside, and your breathing descends into a steady rhythm. Throwing your head back, you rest your back against the wall while still in Toji’s hold, using this time to indulge yourself in this moment of clarity. 
Toji lets out a tiny laugh, bringing his face to your neck to suck on it. “That felt good, sweet thing?” You sigh out of breath, nodding to his question. “Hmmm, good. But ya know I’m not done, right?” Your blood ran cold, your body rigid still. Wait, huh? “I let you have your fun, so be a good girl, and lemme have mine.” 
The involuntary twitch of your slit should give you a clue as to how the news hit you, and you can't tell if it'll be him or the shower that will have you melting like a puddle by the time this is over...
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Haibara walks out to the front desk, where Ino hurriedly stuffs his phone back into his pocket, away from his superior’s eyes. Fortunately for the younger man, the older one didn’t see his device. “Hey, Ino, I got a question.”
“Yeah, what’s up?” The associate fidgets with his brown hair under his rolled-up ski mask.
“Have you seen Mr. Fushiguro and Y/n today? Toji told me he couldn’t make it for Monday night, but I haven’t seen Y/n that day or Wednesday.” The older brunette looks around to find any resembling cues, but his eyes see nothing that sparks familiarity. 
Ino blinks before answering. “No. And now that you mention it, I haven’t seen or heard from them since last week…”
Haibara leans on the desk and sighs. “Hope Y/n’s doing all right. Usually, they’d call or shoot a text telling me they couldn’t make it for their appointments with Fushiguro. But this is twice where neither of them show up.” 
“Hmm, can’t say I have an idea.” The other shrugs at his superior’s concerns. “I didn’t get a call or text from Y/n either, so maybe I’ll give ‘em one after my shift. Heh. Let’s hope they didn’t replace us with another gym.” 
With trenched brows, Haibara took offense to the younger brunette’s words. “Cut that out, man! I’d be pretty upset if they just suddenly stopped showing up here. Half a year of coming in and out and getting to know each other, only for them to just vanish like that…At the very least, they could give a call!” He passionately bangs on the front desk, giving Ino a startle.
RING-RING-RING!! RING-RING-RING!! 
The two froze at the sudden ring of the desk phone as if Haibara’s fist magically granted them a call. And by the exchanged glances they shared before Ino picked up the phone, they better hope it wasn’t the call they were expecting. “Hello, this is Golden Gate Gym. My name is Takuma Ino; what can I do for you?” 
“Hey, is that you, Ino?”
“Hey, Y/n!” Ino turns to Haibara, whose eyes share the same perplexity as his. “It’s good to hear from you; where’ve you been? You’ve been MIA for almost a week.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I had a little accident and sprained my ankle; I couldn’t come to the gym on Monday and Wednesday.”
“Oh, shit, for real?” Haibara watched the younger man’s tone change to concern, which didn’t help his nerves either. “Sorry to hear about that, but it’s a good call not coming here and taking care of yourself.”
“Yeah, thanks. Is Haibara there with you by any chance?”
“Uh, yeah. He’s right next to me, actually.” Ino takes the initiative to give the darker brunette the phone to speak with the one on the other side of the line. Haibara outstretches his arm to take the phone and put the receiving end to his ear. “Yo, Y/n!”
“Hey, Haihai. I meant to call you Wednesday, but I’m letting you know that Mr. Fushiguro and I are still doing our weekly appointments.”
Haibara sighs in relief internally, giving Ino a thumbs up. “Oh, thank God! You two had me worried there for a second. We didn’t see you guys here and thought you’d be a no-show again.”
“Yeah, sorry for the scare. Mr. Fushiguro found out about it and decided it would be….Haahhh….best for me to do my regimine at my apartment instead…”
“Well, that’s nice of him to look out for you with your ankle. I’m sure he’s doing what he can to—“
“Ahaahhnn!!”
A sudden yelp pops into the call out of nowhere and completely takes Haibara aback from the phone as if it was so out of place for the topic that was taking place. Ino notices it when the darker brunette gives him a brief perplexed look, which the younger shrugs at. “Uhh, Y/n? You busy right now?”
Oh, you were busy, all right. You’re at your apartment right now. Your ankle? Absolutely fine, nothing wrong about it in the slightest. The only change, however, is not being at the gym for this entire week and staying home instead. Why?
How about asking your personal trainer who has you propped upside down, standing up with his hands holding you by your ass, stuffing his face to your exposed cunt which he licks and sucks on. The feeling of his tongue digging through your labia has your hips jerking, but his strong arms exhibit unmoving effort in keeping your wetness in his mouth. His pants down to his knees, and his erect length in your hand and brushing your cheek. This is most definitely not the at-home exercise that Haibara is thinking of.
“…Hello?…Y/n, you there?”
Oh, shit! “Y–Yeah, I’m here! Sorry, my ankle is acting up on me—Ohhhh…Fushiguro’s looking at it for me…” Oh, please, he’s not checking shit; fucker indulging himself between your asscheecks, ravishing your folds like a sweet fruit to his tastebuds.
“Oh! So you two are exercising together right now?” Toji nibbles on your vagina and grazes with his teeth, having you gasp and twitch. His tongue surprising your clit prompts a choked whine. “That’s good to know then! Alright then, see you guys when you’re ready to return to the gym. And tell Toji not to put too much on you, ya hear?”
“—Khhhh, mhmm…I’ll give him an earful for you. See you later, Haibara…”
“Great, see ya. Happy Friday!” 
And with that farewell, you can finally toss the phone down and coo to your heart’s content, biting your lips at Toji stuffing his mouth on your bare chasm; his muffled groans vibrate your lower half like crazy. “Ohhooo!! Ohhhfuckkk, I’m gonna cumm,” your words slur with a suck to your clitoris, your hips bucking involuntarily. “Lemme cum, Tojiiii, I wanna—Ahaaaa!!”
He removes his face from your ass with an exhale as if he was dying for breath. But based on the grin plastered on his face, he wouldn’t mind being in this position for a little while. “Oh, I don’t think so, doll. I don’t think ya deserve to cum in my mouth.”
That was the last thing you wanted to hear right now. “Ahahnn!! You’re such an asshole, Toji…”
He chuckles crudely. “That’s where I’m gonna play with next if you don’t stuff my dick in that pretty mouth of y’rs already. Suck me good; then maybe I’ll let the princess cum all over me.”
Broad strokes from his pelvis rub his dick on your cheek, a reminder of your part of this endeavor that you must partake in. The smell of him overwhelms your nostrils into a pornographic trance, your head pounding just from looking at it. You gulp and take the tip into your mouth, sucking and licking the precum off while your hands glide up and down his shaft. “Good girl, good girl…” Toji goes back to smacking his lips on your folds, moving his tongue in whirlpool motions that have you moaning on his cock. God, it feels so good, so fucking good. You can see yourself becoming addicted to this, and that’s a bit scary seeing this professional relationship drift to something more touchy and personal…
…But then again, there’s nothing wrong with that, right?
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by achumuchi + dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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gloomwitchwrites · 2 months
Note
What If 141 and the best enemies to lovers line of all time...
"Who did this to you?"
Cue protective instincts and sexiness
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hehe I am giggling!! Okay. Listen. I am fully aware that this is an enemies to lovers trope, but I don't think it applies to all of the 141 guys in that manner. Is there protectiveness? Yes. Is there a bit of spice? Yes, if you squint really hard. Is there also some sweetness thrown in? Absolutely there is. I had lots of fun with this one. I hope you enjoy it!
Presented in four double drabbles.
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x 141!Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, brief blood and injury, hurt/comfort, brief suggestive themes, protectiveness, light angst
Word Count: 800
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
“Who did this?” Kyle bends forward at the waist, pressing a bag of frozen peas to your face. His concern is genuine. You can see that, but it’s strange. The two of you get on, but this is something else.
Kyle looks…angry like your injury personally offends him.
“It’s nothing,” you murmur. “Things happen during sparing. It’s fine.”
Kyle’s frown only deepens. He doesn’t believe you. And why should he? The person you were placed with took it too far. And it was all to impress him as if putting you in your place would somehow grant his favor.
It’s clearly done the opposite. He could care less about your sparring partner.
“It was your sparring partner, wasn’t it?”
You don’t answer. Just press the peas to your forehead a little harder.
This time, Kyle’s frown turns slightly upward. “Jokes on them, ya?”
You glance at him sideways. “How so?”
Kyle is grinning. It’s stunning. All pearly white teeth.
“Because I have my eye on someone else,” he says simply, as if that answers everything.
Though you cannot see yourself, you feel your face growing hot under Kyle’s gaze.
“You shouldn’t say thing like that,” you reply.
“Why? It’s true.”
John Price
“Who did this?”
“Why do you care so much, John?”
You attempt to pull your face out of his grasp but he holds firm.
“Of course I care,” he replies. The two of you stare into each other’s eyes, chests heaving. John is close. Too close. So close he could easily brush his lips against yours.
“I don’t know why,” you murmur.
“You do,” he affirms, authority in his tone.
Do you? Maybe. Perhaps. Deep within yourself you truly know the reason but can’t decide to speak it to the air. That would make this real. Whatever this is between the two of you.
‘Tell me who did this?”
“And do that what?”
“What the fuck I want to them, love.”
“It’s nothing. You shouldn’t worry about it,” you reply, again trying to escape from him.
But John isn’t having it. His other hand hooks around your upper arm, and then you’re pressed closed to him. He is so warm. All strength.
“Let go,” you say, but there is no volume behind it. It is weak. Not even a protest.
“Tell me,” he repeats, head dipping slightly.
Yes. Close enough to kiss.
“Tell me,” he says again, this time softer.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Simon’s blood beats heavy. It is tinged with metal. A lace of fire that cannot abate.
His boots slap against the linoleum floor. The overhead lights are bright. Clinical. He is a shadow here. A dark specter.
No one stops him. No one glances his way.
And why should they?
He is a man made fury.
There were hands put upon you. A training exercise taken too far. Simon was not there. And he doesn’t know why. Not exactly. But he’s furious. Protective. The fact that he could not stop this only infuriates him further.
To him, this is a failure.
He doesn’t come to a stop. Doesn’t knock. He barges right on in.
The nurse yelps. Spins suddenly. Face red.
You glance up, eyes wide at first but soothing slightly as they land on Simon. You’re bruised. Stitched up.
Fucking hell.
“Out,” barks Simon.
The nurse leaves but stares him down the entire time. He approaches the table, and lightly brushes the backs of his fingers against the wound on your forehead.
“Who did this?” he asks.
“Simon—”
“Which fucker?” he growls, bending forward slightly to look into your eyes.
“Should see the other guy,” you joke, smiling.
John "Soap" MacTavish
Johnny shouldn’t feel this way. He shouldn’t. You’re not his. Even if he wishes it were so.
Every swing of his fist sends the building frustration outward, shooting into the massive boxing bag before him. It’s a poor substitute for the face he truly wants to smash. Several faces that is. Two specifically.
Who did this?
The words slipped from him unbidden. An instant anger. You had only scowled. Told him you could handle yourself. And you can. Johnny knows this. But he’s still fucking pissed about it. Still seething.
All the fucker got was a quick slap on the wrist. A promise to not do it again.
That sits sour in Johnny’s belly.
But you didn’t cave, no matter how much Johnny insisted that he’d take care of it on your behalf. So he is here, punching the shit out of something that isn’t flesh.
He wishes he could take away your pain. Take away the memory. Give it to himself to carry. You don’t turn on your own. There’s no honor in what happened.
But as much as he wants it to be true, Johnny can do nothing.
You are not his.
Even if he wants to be.
taglist:
@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath
@sapphichotmess @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett
@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82
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@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos
@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez
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aemondsbabe · 10 months
Text
The Gods and Everyone
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summary: you and aemond sorely overestimate how much time you have before a small council meeting, which leaves the two of you in quite a scandalous predicament
pairing: aemond targaryen x reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, cockwarming, public sex, slight breeding kink, fingering, aemond being an absolute menace, dirty talk, aegon being a little shit but what else is new, let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 5.6k
a/n: based on an anon request for cockwarming! i hope you're still with me and that you enjoy this, friend! sorry it took me so long to get to it!
creds to @bbygirl-aemond for the gif!
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!
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You watch, concerned, as your husband flits around the Small Council chamber, your eyes following his lithe form as he checks and re-checks the parchment with notes he had written for himself earlier that morning – you’d awoken in the pale hour just before sunrise to see him already hunched over the small desk in your chambers, scribbling away furiously with a quill, his pale hair glowing in the dim light of the candle next to him. All of your attempts to lure him back into bed with you had fallen on deaf ears. 
“You know you needn't do all this,” you point out, perched against the Small Council table, your eyes tracking him as he paces back and forth across the space, going over his notes for the upteenth time, “Your only job is to be on time like everyone else, husband.”
“Things will improve with time,” he rushes out, fixing you with a pointed look, “Hardly two moons have passed since Viserys…” He pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose, “The least I can do is ease this transition for Aegon and mother.”
“My love, it is a transition for us all,” you soothe, striding to him and gently taking his hand. His fingers, rough from all his years of training with swords and spears, instantly wrap around your own as he lets out a tired sigh, “You included. Aegon named you Master of War, not master of everything.” 
“I know,” Aemond murmurs, eye softening as his gaze traces over you, “I find it hard to be still when there is so much chaos – Dorne has yet to be subdued and there are whispers of rebellion from the North. There is so much still to be accounted for.”
“I understand,” you reassure him, your fingers threading through his long, silvery hair, lips quirking into a smile as the gesture makes his eye flutter closed for a second. “But all this stress cannot be good for you, husband,” you sigh, gazing up at him with a mournful smile, “You need rest and calm and…and I need you.” You nearly whisper, blush creeping across your cheeks as Aemond’s eye darkens. 
“Sweetling—“ He starts with a sigh. 
“Aemond, please,” you cut him off, wrapping your arms around his trim waist as you lay your head against his chest, his heart thumping in your ear, “I cannot bear to hear another excuse, I feel as if you have been away for weeks.” 
He’s quiet for a moment, wrapping his long, lean arms tightly around you as he rests his chin on your head, your breaths the only sound in the stony chamber. “I’m sorry,” he finally whispers, smoothing a hand up and down your back, “I miss you too, my sweet girl.” 
You hum, leaning further into his embrace after going without it for so long, “You haven’t touched me in weeks.” You say quietly, his touch already igniting a spark in the pit of your stomach. 
“Perhaps tonight,” his breath is warm against the top of your head as he speaks into your hair, “I will try to cut my meeting with–”
“You’ve been saying that for weeks,” you cut him off once more with a sigh, pulling back to look up at him, “I can’t take anymore, my love, I need to feel you.” You whine, nearly petulant like a spoiled child. If it were any other time, if you were any less desperate, you’d be embarrassed at your behavior. Right now, though, you could not find it within yourself to care as you stared into your husband’s darkened eye, finally feeling the passion you had gone so many weeks without. 
Aemond chuckles as he looks down at you, conflicted between feeling pleased to see you reduced to such a state while also feeling a similar fire in his own belly. “Sweetling, the meeting–”
“Is not due to start for at least another hour!” You interrupt, determined to persuade him to this. Taking you in various parts of the Keep was not new to him, both of you had plenty of memories from your courtship and first year of marriage of rutting together in all sorts of nooks and crannies of the old castle. 
Aemond gazes at you for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face, though his eye remains dark with desire. After a second, he nods to himself almost imperceptibly, seeming to come to some decision you weren’t privy to. Finally, finally his lips descend upon yours as he sweeps you into an all-consuming kiss, his arms tightening around your waist as he pulls you to him, groaning lowly in his throat as he licks into your mouth. You shiver in his grasp, finally tasting him properly after so long as you whimper and whine into his mouth.
“Aemond,” you gasp as you finally part from him, mewling as he immediately trails kisses down your jaw, “What–”
“Seems I can never deny you for very long, sweetling,” he huffs, halfway laughing as he guides you over to the large table, pulling you up by the waist until you’re sitting on the cool stone table, your legs bracketing his trim waist, “I’ve missed you too, my love.” He confesses, sweeping a lock of hair from your shoulder before trailing kisses up across your neck and jaw, one hand already desperately pulling up the bottom of your gown.
You huff out small moans and whimpers, relishing his warm touch. His nimble fingers finally manage to undo the knot at the front of your smallclothes and he tugs them down quickly, leaving you bare for him under your skirts as they fall to a pile on the floor just beside his chair at the table. 
“Husband,” you pant, tugging at the drawstrings at the top of his trousers, “Please, please do not make me beg today, I–” Your train of thought is cut off as a moan, louder than it should be given the location, tears itself from your throat when you feel his long fingers ghost over your center.
“Shh, darling,” Aemond grins as he feels your arousal immediately coat his fingers, a pleased hum emanating from deep in his chest as he feels it already coating the insides of your thighs as well, “I don’t have the patience to restrain myself today, sweet one,” he mutters, watching your face carefully as he spreads your folds and teases your entrance with a finger before carefully sliding it in, groaning with satisfaction at the feel of your walls already tightly clamping down on it, “Nor the time.” He adds with a slight smirk, pale hair cascading like a curtain down his shoulders as he leans his forehead against yours. 
“Oh, Gods,” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut as your hands white knuckle the dark leather of his tunic, too uncoordinated with lust to manage the ties on his pants, “M-My love, more please!” You whisper, angling your hips to try and catch another of his fingers. 
You hear him chuckle above you before he pulls his finger from you, smirking as you whine pitifully at the loss. Before you have a chance to protest, he quickly undoes his trousers, not bothering to pull them down at all and opting to merely loosen the laces at the front enough to free his cock. Your eyes widen as you watch his hand stroke over his length momentarily, taking in the way it already throbs in his grasp, the head flushed and leaking from merely having you in his hands once more.
“Ready, sweetling?” He asks, gently tilting your chin up as he captures your lips in a sweet kiss, his other hand positioning his length at your entrance. 
You part from him and nod eagerly, widening your legs and angling your hips, “I’ve been ready for you for weeks, Aemond.” 
He smiles softly, pressing one more kiss against your neck before finally pressing into you, growling as he sinks into your slick heat. “Seven,” he grunts, cradling the back of your head with one hand as his other slinks down to grab at your hip, “You feel better every time, sweetling.”
You moan hotly against his shoulder, sinking your teeth into the thick leather of the shoulder of his tunic in an attempt to quiet yourself. Your eyes squeeze shut at the feel of him sliding into you, filling you to the brim perfectly. You’ve been without him for so long that he feels enormous, your walls aching as he stretches you out, pressing in and in until he’s finally seated fully within you. 
Without another word, Aemond started thrusting into you, slow at first but quickly picking up the pace with every firm roll of his hips into you. After only a moment, he’s already grunting like a madman into your ear, holding you to him even as you cling tightly to his shoulders yourself, your legs wrapped loosely around his waist. 
You feel a fire building in your belly at a breakneck pace as he ruts into you, the hand on your hip no doubt leaving fingerprint bruises across your skin, even through the fabric of your gown. If the low groans from your husband are any indication, he isn’t doing much better. He threads his fingers through your hair, pulling you into a desperate kiss, teeth and tongues clashing together frantically as if the two of you are trying to fall into each other, to become one. 
“My love, I—,” he pants against your lips, jerking your head back by the grip he has on your locks. His eye meets yours, the light lilac almost entirely eclipsed by his pupil as he stares at you hungrily, “It’s been so long, I don’t know how long I can last.” 
His breath is warm as it fans over your lips and you nod dazedly, zings of pleasure radiating up your spine from Aemond’s grip in your hair only adding to the warmth quickly threatening to overtake you. “It’s okay,” you swallow thickly, eyes already rolling back with pleasure, “I can’t either.” 
Nodding in return, he picks up the pace, the head of his cock rutting against the most sensitive spot within you hard enough to make you see stars. He hasn’t even needed to tease your pearl and you’re already nearly unraveling as Aemond mumbles nearly incoherent praises, the hand on your hip traveling lower, nearly cupping your ass. 
Just as you’re about to warn him of your inevitable release, muffled voices sound from behind the thick wooden doors that lead into the Small Council chambers. Aemond slows within you as both of your heads swivel to the doors — just in time to hear the guards stationed outside begin to tug them open. 
You freeze, eyes widening as the doors open, seemingly in slow motion. Thankfully, your husband moves quickly enough for the both of you, nimbly scooping you into his arms before hastily dropping down into his chair, hurriedly scooching it forward until both of your laps are hidden under the stone surface of the table, before kicking your smallclothes under the table at the last second. 
Your head whips around to face Aemond and you give him a panicked, wide-eyed look just as people start filing into the room, unaware that you’re still being split open by your husband’s length. One hand, still on your hip, tightens, silently commanding you to be still as his lilac eye pleads the same; his other hand is already poised on the table, relaxed against the cool surface as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. 
“Yes, yes, we must certainly ask him once he’s back in King’s Landing,” Lord Tyland’s voice fills the chamber as he walks in, engaged in a conversation about something or other with Lord Corlys, the two sharing a laugh before finally taking notice of you and Aemond, “Prince, princess.” Tyland bows his head at the two of you with Corlys following soon after. 
You sit frozen atop your husband, gazing blankly at the two men without a word. Thankfully, Aemond has the presence of mind to bow his head politely, though he stays quiet. As they walk further into the room, you can only see Tyland and Corlys from the corner of your eye but you don’t miss the odd look they share, silently asking each other why you were present and certainly why you were sitting on Aemond’s lap. Blood rushes to your head so quickly you feel lightheaded, your cheeks stinging as a harsh blush quickly appears on your face from their attention. 
Maester Orwyle files through the doorway next, doing a double take at you and Aemond before bowing his head, a gesture that you thankfully remember to return this time as you stiffly nod your head. Thankfully, the older man simply takes a seat at his place at the table without any comment, though you can hear the two other men speaking quietly in the corner of the room, throwing glances your way as they do. 
Your walls tighten around Aemond’s length as the rest of you tenses up when Larys creeps in, leaning against his cane as he moves; Aemond thighs tense underneath you as you hear him suck in a breath, only slightly more hasty than normal — the hand in your hip tightens, warning you to keep it together. 
“Prince Aemond, princess,” Larys nods as he approaches the table, “To what do we owe the pleasure of such… intriguing company?” He questions, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes ever so slightly, his eyes bouncing between you and Aemond. 
Your head spins as you stare straight ahead, willing yourself to respond, to say anything, to appear somehow normal. Yet, nothing comes out as your center throbs uselessly around Aemond, your head cloudy with need as your eyes stare ahead blankly, though registering just enough to pick up on the small smirk playing at the corners of Larys’s lips. 
“My wife appears to have taken ill this morning,” Aemond drawls from over your shoulder while affectionately petting your waist, a gesture entirely for show, a lie to placate the men in the room, but it comforts you nonetheless. He clears his throat before continuing, the only tell thus far that your warmth around him is affecting him at all, “My presence brings her great comfort, I see no reason why she should be without it.” 
“I see,” Larys hums in response, his dark eyes sweeping over your form, sparkling ominously as if he knows the truth, “What shame, let us hope the Gods grant you reprieve from this…illness soon, princess.” 
“Yes!” You finally squeak, snapping back to attention as Aemond just barely squeezes your side, “Yes, let’s hope so. Thank you, Lord Larys.” You breathe, managing a smile small. 
You shift on your husband’s lap and immediately you know you’ve made a mistake as the head of his cock prods directly into that overly sensitive patch within you, nearly making you topple over on the spot as a small groan escapes you. Blessedly, you have enough presence of mind to cover it up with a cough, sparks jolting down your back as Aemond presses a soft kiss to your cheek, one of his hands coming up to rub soothing circles against the back of your shoulder. 
“There, there, sweetling,” he says softly, again, entirely for show as you put on your best performance, “Once the meeting is over, we will have the servants make some tea for you, that will help with that cough.” Even if it was for show, you couldn’t help but shiver at Aemond’s low voice, at how he’s being so soft and caring with you. That, combined with the incessant prodding to your sweet spot, has you throbbing around him, your heart hammering in your chest. You can hear Aemond suck in another barely there gasp behind you, a groan low enough to remain silent rumbling against your back while at the same time his hand almost imperceptibly twitches on the table; his composure makes you feel all the more lightheaded, blushing somehow deeper at the fact that he’s taking you apart this easily without so much as moving a muscle. Your thighs trembled atop his lap, the insides already sticky with your arousal as you struggled to stay still, silently thanking the Gods that at least your laps were hidden. 
“I’m sorry,” Corlys began, striding over from his spot in the corner with a sheepish look, “I really feel I must speak up, this is really most unusual.” He finishes through an awkward laugh, Tyland following closely behind him as they saddle up to the table. 
“What is most unusual?” Alicent asks, entering the Small Council chambers with Otto, followed closely after by Aegon and Ser Criston. Her eyes sweep over the room, pausing when she sees you, though she quickly corrects herself with a soft smile. “Ah, my dear,” she nods hello to the various men in the room before sitting at the table, “May I ask why your wife joins us, Aemond?” She peers at him curiously, throwing a nervous glance at Aegon who is smirking far too much for her liking as he slinks up to the table. 
“It seems the princess has fallen ill, your grace,” Larys answers quickly, slyly smiling as he turns to face the dowager queen, “Prince Aemond insisted she stay so that she may be…comforted.” You quickly look away from him as his eyes meet yours once again, piercing through you as though he can see directly through your gown. 
“Yes, which is most odd,” Tyland butted in, throwing glances between you, Aemond, Alicent, and Aegon, “She is not a member of the council, she should not be present. Surely there is some way the princess could be comforted that does not involve being privy to government matters.”
Aemond stays silent behind you, glaring daggers at Aegon over your shoulder, watching carefully as he traipses over to the table and stands at its head, his eyes never straying from his brother’s as they stare one another down. The other members, some reluctantly, take their places at the table as well, each of them standing so long as Aegon does, though you and Aemond remain seated; your eyes never stray from the marbled surface of the table.
“Aemond, please,” Otto sighs from his place next to you, “The least you and the princess could do is stand for–”
“I see him everyday,” Aegon interjects, breaking eye contact with your husband as he rolls his eyes, “I don’t give a shit if the fool stands.”
Your eyes dart up at that, shocked that Aegon isn’t taking the chance to thoroughly humiliate Aemond by putting him on the spot. The king’s violet eyes meet yours, sparkling with a mischief that makes your center flutter around your husband’s length – Aegon’s smirk grows as if he knows exactly what just happened. A thin sheen of sweat makes you feel clammy as Aemond’s cock twitches inside of you, pushing him against your sweet spot all the more. 
“Very well,” Alicent swiftly cuts in, determined to keep the peace, “Shall we get st–”
“Are we really going to allow for the presence of–” Corlys starts, only to be viciously cut off.
“She stays,” Aegon says flatly, shooting a bored look at the man, “If anyone has an issue with the princess’s presence they may take their leave.” His violet eyes pass over the room, almost daring anyone to move. Everyone remains still, though you can feel Tyland and Corlys glaring at the side of your head, and after a moment, Aegon takes his seat followed by everyone else; blessedly, the meeting finally begins. 
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The Small Council meeting drones on and on, with various conversations of coin and ships, concerns abroad in Essos, and other diplomatic matters that mean nothing to you. In the back of your mind, you know it’s hardly been any time at all but it feels like an eternity has passed with Aemond’s hard length still piercing into you, twitching against your pulsing walls every so often. A part of you wonders if he does it on purpose, gives you just enough stimulation to cruelly tease you before going stock still once more. 
The small, unnoticeable to everyone but you, hitches of his breath tell you otherwise and deep down, you know he’s just as affected as you, no doubt steadily leaking into you, though you dare not consider the thought for very long. 
“Aemond,” your breath catches in your throat as Otto directs his attention to your husband, everyone else's gaze quickly following, “Any further communications from Dorne?”
Behind you, your husband clears his throat and you feel him shift beneath you, sitting up slightly straighter in his seat, both hands now clasping your waist to keep you steady on top of him. “Negotiations with the Dornish remain stagnant,” he begins as you practically wilt on his lap, the added attention from the council members making the knot in your belly tighten in a way you shudder to consider, “We received a raven from Prince Qoren some days ago rejecting any dealings with the crown, no matter the amount of coin we have to offer.” He finishes, pointedly looking at Tyland, who proceeds to butt in.
As soon as the attention shifts off of the two of you, it’s like the air around Aemond changes, becoming charged all of a sudden as you feel his chest heave against your back. At the other end of the table, Tyland begins to raise his voice, debating hotly with Corlys and Otto, drawing the attention of everyone else to them. 
“Do you think you can be still?” Aemond whispers, his breath hot against your ear although his voice is barely audible even to you. He must sense you freeze on his lap as the hand on your hip begins to move slowly, dragging your skirts up your legs until his hand can slip underneath them, making you tremble as he grips the soft skin of your thigh, “Tighten around my cock if you can be still.”
Against your better judgment, you do as he says, tensing as you clench your walls around him; his only reply is a low growl against your back. He stays still for a moment, trying with all of his might to appear as if he’s taking great interest in the ongoing argument taking place. 
Finally, once he’s positive everyone is too preoccupied arguing over coin to pay attention to either of you, his deft fingers slip through your folds before finally twirling against your aching pearl. 
You have to bite harshly at the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, trying to keep your breathing steady as you focus on not moving even though you so badly want to rut your hips against his fingers as they rub against you. 
Aemond swallows thickly behind you as he slowly circles his fingers, careful to keep his pace light and steady to not stir up any slick sounds from your wet cunt, though he longs to hear them. 
Your elbows rest against the top of the table, your hands clasped tightly in front of you. The conversation around you seems to shift as Otto begins prattling on about some Tyrell woman finally being with child. Aemond’s fingers suddenly pinch at your sensitive bud and a gasp tumbles past your lips before you can stop it, drawing everyone’s attention. 
“Is everything alright, princess?” Alicent questions from across the table, her dark eyes narrowed with concern. 
You nod quickly, coughing to conceal a moan as you open your mouth to answer her, “Y-Yes, I’m sorry,” you apologize with a weak smile, “I’m just so pleased for the Tyrells, what a j-joyous time this must be for them.” You say quickly, stumbling over the words as your core clenches tightly around your husband’s cock, his small touches driving you steadily to your peak despite the circumstances. 
Alicent gives you a curious look before quickly collecting herself, “Yes, I’m sure the family is quite thankful, children are always such a blessing,” she smiles politely before turning back to her father, “Please, continue.” 
Otto’s voice hardly reaches your ears as he picks up where he left off, though you don’t miss the horribly put out looks you garner from Tyland and Corlys. 
Aemond’s fingers just barely speed up as they swirl over your bud, though the small change is enough to drive you wild and you can feel the way his chest heaves against your back as your walls twitch around his length, threatening to milk his cock dry without him having to move an inch. 
The heat that has slowly been building within you finally begins to bubble over and your husband’s fingers show no signs of stopping as he pushes you closer and closer to your breaking point. The hand of his that has been resting idly on the table top comes over to casually rest against your clenched hands and rubs soothingly up and down your forearm, Aemond’s silent way of telling you he knows you’re close. 
Your eyes flick around the room as you feel your peak threatening to spill over you, frantically checking for any onlookers at the last possible second. You nearly jump out of your skin as your eyes finally land on Aegon, only to find him already staring at you, an amused smirk plastered across his face as he studies you. 
Aemond chooses that exact second to pinch at your pearl again and the small touch is your undoing. Your teeth bite down firmly on your tongue as your walls pulse rhythmically around your husband’s leaking cock, your eyes still locked on Aegon’s violet ones, now darkened with lust. 
Your muscles tense up as you peak helplessly, waves of pleasure lighting up every nerve ending within you. Somehow, you find it within yourself to remain quiet and still on Aemond’s lap as your eyes finally flick away from his older brother’s and you gaze, apparently absentmindedly, at some point on the wall on the opposite side of the room as your high subsides. 
Thankfully, Aemond takes pity on you and slips his hand away, his wet fingers resting gently in your bare thigh, still underneath your gown. 
You slowly come down from your high as the Small Council winds down, Aegon and Otto quickly discussing a few final points before the king formally adjourns the meeting. Tyland and Corlys practically bolt from their chairs, quickly bowing before they exit as they mumble between themselves, no doubt about the displeasure of your presence. 
Otto and Maester Orwyle take their leave soon after, each bowing politely. Aegon busies himself at the head of the table, leaning back in his chair as he lazily sips from his wine cup, the gleam in his eyes making you shiver. 
Across the room, Alicent and Larys whisper between themselves. Strangely, your mother-in-law blushes, shaking her head suddenly and mumbling a quiet, “Not here,” before glancing around the room.
Larys merely shrugs, turning to you as he shuffles from the room, “Do get better soon, princess.” He says with a feeble bow, although the look on his face makes you blush heavily. 
At that, Alicent turns to Aegon, “Would you care to come see the children with me?”
“Go on,” he dismisses her before nodding toward you and Aemond, “I wish to have a word with my brother.” He catches your eye with a quick wink. 
“Of course,” Alicent mutters, glancing curiously between the three of you, “I’ll ask the maids to bring some tea to your chambers this evening, princess. They make a wonderful lemon one that always seems to lift my spirits.” She says with a kind smile, coming around to place a comforting hand on your shoulder before she too heads to the door. 
“Thank you!” You breathily call after her, voice squeaking at the end as Aemond shuffles impatiently beneath you, his cock still prodding against your sensitive walls. 
Aegon chuckles darkly as soon as the doors close once more, standing from his chair with a wide smirk. “I must say, I’m impressed,” he taunts, eyes glinting as he looks between you and his brother, “I didn’t think either of you had that much gaul in you.” 
“What exactly are you tittering about now?” Aemond asks lowly behind you, his voice rough and choppy as his patience clearly wears thin. 
Sniggering, Aegon saunters around to stand beside you, violet eyes scanning over your laps still concealed under the table, “You’ve had your cock in her the whole time, have you not?” He teases, laughing harder still as Aemond merely hums in response, “Come brother, you should be proud of yourself,” he clasps a hand over your husband's shoulder, “She was nearly falling apart when she peaked.” He comments with a final wink as he ambles to the door, stopping to throw one last amused look over his shoulder, “You might want to do something about that bite mark on your shoulder.” He says casually before slamming the doors closed behind him. 
At his comment, you whirl around and your eyes grow wide as you spy a clear impression of your teeth marks in the leather of Aemond’s tunic, on his shoulder where you’d bitten down earlier. Your cheeks heat up at the thought of it being there throughout the entire meeting. 
You don’t have long to dwell on the thought though as your husband roughly pushes you from his lap until you’re bent over the table, cheek pressed to the cool stone surface. “Seven!” You sequel as he unceremoniously shoves his cock back inside you, his hips pumping wildly as his hands grasp at your waist harshly, no doubt leaving bruises. 
“Fucking finally,” he grunts, eyeing the way his cock disappears into your slick heat as he bunches your gown up over your ass, “‘M not gonna last.” He warns lowly, already panting with the speed of his thrusts. 
Your head spins once again as his cock moves within you, his pace nearly bruising. Your teeth sink into the skin of your forearm as you desperately try to keep quiet, another peak already welling up within you. 
Aemond growls and quickly threads the fingers of one hand through your hair, making you whine loudly as he pulls your head back until his chest is once again pressed against you, his other hand coming to rub against your abused pearl once more. 
“Aemond!” You moan, shaking your head in his grasp, one hand braced against the table as the other grabs at his forearm, feeling his muscles twitch as his fingers swirl against your center, “P-Please, I cannot keep myself quiet, I know I can’t—“ You start babbling. 
“Let them fucking hear,” he growls, eye squeezing shut as he feels his stones tightening up, “The whole keep can listen for all I fucking care, I won’t be stopping this time.” 
Your eyes roll back in your head at his words, never having heard him sound this possessed and overcome with pleasure before. After only a few more thrusts, you feel your walls twitch once more, a loud gasp rattling through your chest, “H-Husband, I’m—!”
“That’s it,” Aemond groans, redoubling his efforts against your pearl as he continues to rut into you at a nearly inhuman pace. “Peak, sweetling,” he commands, his voice low and raspy in your ear, “Peak while I breed your precious cunt.” 
His words nearly take your breath away and you whine loudly as another high washes over you, your walls milking your husband’s cock as they clench and pulse against it. 
Behind you, Aemond groans lowly, grunting as his cock twitches strongly inside you, his thick seed flooding into your heat as he finally, finally peaks, the pleasure of it making him dizzy as he leans against your back, forehead pressed between your shoulder blades. 
The two of you are quiet for a moment, your tired pants the only sounds in the chambers. Finally, Aemond untangles his fingers from your hair, both of his hands coming to rest against the cool table as he finally pulls his cock from your center, soothing you with soft shushes when you whine, the emptiness in your core such a foreign feeling after being filled for so long. 
He sinks into his chair once more and pulls you with him, wrapping a protective arm around your waist as you rest your head on his shoulder. Once your breathing is steady, you pick your head up, a displeased groan tumbling from your throat as you see your bite mark more clearly up close, a finger coming up to trace over the intents in the black leather. 
“I’ll need to send this to the seamstress for repairs,” you whisper with an apologetic sigh, “I believe this is beyond my ability to fix.” 
Aemond chuckles beneath you, lilac eye gleaming with pride as he clasps a hand over yours as it still rests on his shoulder, “Don’t trouble yourself with it, my love.” 
“What?” You question, smiling despite the way you tilt your head in confusion, “Aemond, I cannot fix it myself and I’m afraid the mark will not simply go away—,” 
“You misunderstand me, sweetling,” he says, smiling as he looks down at you, “I intend to keep it as a mark of great pride. I shall wear it as a trophy for all to see.” He explains with a teasing laugh. 
You playfully smack a hand against his chest, which only makes him laugh harder, “You can’t be serious!” You admonish with a wide smile.
“Why? I simply wish to remember this day,” he chuckles, “The day I made my sweet wife peak in front of the Gods and everyone.” 
“Aemond!” You cannot help the surprised laugh that leaves you, “You’re as disgusting as your brother!”
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tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @demirunner @eponaartemisa @trshngyn
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misstycloud · 2 months
Text
[Yandere.Rich man x ballerina reader]
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(I don’t actually know much about ballet so forgive me if things are incorrect!)
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Rich. Yandere who was pestered by his friend and his wife to join them at the opera house and enjoy a performance. The couple had asked him numerous times before but he’d always declined. He was a workaholic and didn’t have any other commitments, so there was no need to break his routine. Although he would never admit it to anyone- he barely does to himself- he often find himself imagining a different life; one where he had a wife to welcome him home every evening. Perhaps a few children too. There was no sound besides himself and the staff in his home, it would be so very nice to hear the noise of running feet and happy chatter echo through the empty halls.
Rich. Yandere who is lonely above all else. His family is dead and he has next to no friends- the only one he has is married and devote all his time to keep him company. He knows that he doesn’t have the best track-record of being the kindest person in the world, and he might not be the friendliest or the most out-going, still, doesn’t he deserve some love too?
Rich. Yandere who eventually give into his friends demand and goes with them to the opera. As they took their seats- the expensive and best ones, of course- his friends wife babble on about her favourite dancer. They were regulars there and had seen many performances. He simply sighed and leaned back into his seat, waiting for the show to begin. He could only hope that it’ll be somewhat enjoyable since he doesn’t like wasting his time.
Rich. Yandere who was prepared for it to be a dreadful 3 hours, rubbing his eyes and suffering from lack of blood-flow in his legs. Oh how wrong he was. Instantly his gaze zoomed into you as soon as you stepped forward from behind the curtain. You were so beautiful and you moved your body gracefully to the music. It was magical. While he knew close to nothing about ballet, he knew that the point of it were for the women to look like they’re floating, and it’s exactly what you were doing.
Rich. Yandere who is instantly enamoured with you. As someone who’s never felt love this was all a brand new experience for him. He asked his friend and his wife if they knew who you were, since they frequent the opera so much. And turns out the wife did know who you were; you were her favourite after all. Rich. Yandere was never close with her or particularly liked her even, but he had to give it to her: she has excellent taste in performers.
Rich. Yandere who starts looking up information regarding you. It’s be your name, age, background, family, where you went to school and where you live. Everything. He also begins donating a lot of money to the opera house. In a short amount of time he’s become their nr.1 funder. The managers and owners are ecstatic at the news! They ask why he’s so generous and he simply answers that he loves culture and thinks it’s important it doesn’t disappear. Then, they wonder if there is anything they can do for him return, to which he smiles in response.
“Well, I do suppose there is one dancer I would be delighted to meet in person.”
Rich. Yandere who you feel uncomfortable around. He is so strange. You were just a normal ballerina, a dancer, no better or worse than anyone before your time. That’s why you can’t fathom the interest this wealthy man has taken in you. You two came form completely different worlds! But what can you do when your bosses not-so-gently urge you to see this man alone? You dont have any other skills and can’t apply to another job if you get fired.
Rich. Yandere who is determined to make you fall for him the way he has fallen for you. He’ll take care of you, love you and protect you. You don’t have to worry about a thing. He will do anything for his love.
“Don’t be scared, just keep on dancing, my little dancer.”
1K notes · View notes
shockercoco · 3 months
Text
The Lucky One
Benny Cross x reader
Warnings - jealous!reader, some swearing, smoking, mentions of smut, fluff
Word count - 2351
a/n - ngl I wanted to add smut but it just didn’t seem like it fit, also we need more benny imagines ppl👀 i hope you all enjoy :) — read part 2 here !
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“I’ve told you this before, and I’ll tell you again – you are one lucky girl,” Kathy tells you from her spot next to you, nodding in Benny’s direction. “Or should I say that he’s the lucky one?”
You laugh as you follow her eyes, looking at Benny playing pool with some of the other Vandals in the corner. Just like any other weekend, you find yourself in this bar with all the other girlfriends as you watch Benny try to win a game of pool.
From the low lighting of the room, you couldn’t deny how good he looked as he leaned against the pool table, waiting his turn. You felt warmth bubble in your stomach, but you casually dismissed it. 
You definitely weren’t the only one who thought this, though, because some of the random floating girls had their eyes on him as well, staring at his tattooed arms that shined from the thin layer of sweat covering them. Some of them were even bold enough to go up to Benny and throw themselves at him, knowing that he was taken, but not caring. 
Everyone once in a while, Benny would find your eyes and shake his head in amusement from the unwanted attention.
“I think I’m the lucky one,” you smile at her.
“Whatever you say. All I know is that it will always amaze me that Benny somehow convinced you to go out with him, “ she shakes her head in fake disappointment. “What a shame.”
Another laugh makes its way past your lips, causing you to choke on your drink. Kathy wasn’t dating anyone from the Vandals, but she hung around them a lot since she was close with some of the members – and of course because you were always around.
You turn around once you feel a presence sit down in the seat on the other side of you, revealing Benny who is already looking back at you. He wraps his arms around your shoulders as he gives you a wink.
“What are you saying to her now, Kathy?” he asks with a smile as he looks past you to look at her.
“Nothing she didn’t already know,” she shrugs, giving you a sly smile.
“Which is…?” Benny raises an eyebrow at her.
“It’s girl talk. We can’t tell you, and you wouldn’t want to know either,” you chime in before Kathy could answer. She is notorious for saying something that would get under his skin, but it’s not like it's unwarranted because Benny does the same thing right back to her.
Benny’s about to say something else when someone interrupts him. You all turn to look at Cockroach and Benny’s ex, Kay. Well, it’s not really his ex because they didn’t really date, it’s just a girl he used to ‘have relations’ with a while ago and who is a regular at the bar.
You shoot Kathy a knowing look, to which she returns, before looking back at the standing pair.
“Hey, Benny, a few of us are headed out to have a smoke. Do you want to join?” Cockroach asks, as he playfully shakes Benny’s shoulders. He holds out a cigarette for Benny to take, Benny’s ex gives you a smile before looking over at Benny, giving him a hopeful one and wanting him to say yes.
“Sure,” Benny answers as he grabs the cigarette from his friend’s hand before looking at you and asking, “Do you want to join?”
You shake your head at the offer. He knows you hate smoking and only put up with it because of him, but he didn’t want to leave you out.
“No, you go ahead,” you tell him.
Benny nods, before getting up from his seat and following a small group. You watch as they walk away and out the double doors, though you could still see them through the glass window.
“Why didn’t you go with him?” Kathy asks as the two of you look outside. “If I was you and a girl my man used to have sex with and offered him to smoke, I would be right behind him.”
“It’s not like he’s completely out of my eyesight,” you tell her, your eyes still on Benny. You watch as he accepts a lighter Kay offers, leaning down to light the cigarette with it still in his mouth. He takes a deep breath in and then slowly exhales, a cloud of smoke floating out of his mouth.
“I’m not doubting him, believe me that man loves you too much to even give someone else a chance. I’ve never seen him like this. I am doubting that girl though.”
“I’m not too worried about her,” you point out, but you feel your body contradict itself as you watch Kay laugh at something and place a hand on Benny’s arm to keep herself steady.
You don’t know much about Kay, but from what you’ve seen around the hangout, she seemed nice. Well, nice enough. It’s not like she and Benny broke off on bad terms either, they just stopped seeing each other since Benny had decided to leave town for a couple months. And it’s not like she isn’t attractive.
That had always been one of your biggest fears when it came to your relationship – Benny just deciding to up and leave you without a moment’s notice, or just randomly drop you from his life. He seemed to be pretty happy and content with you, though, always wanting to be around you. That didn’t stop that fear from lingering in the back of your head.
You shake your head, an attempt to make your thoughts disappear, and take a sip from the drink you had been nursing.
Throughout the night, you stay around Kathy. The two of you have a couple more drinks as you both decide to play some rounds at the pool table since most of the guys had walked away. Some of the guys you and Kathy did  like were around to play as well. You joined in on some of the bets and even ended up winning some money, but some of the guys got upset.
While all of this was happening, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking out of the window at Benny. It was mainly to admire him, but you can’t deny the fact that you were trying to read everyone’s lips through the glass. I mean, you couldn’t help yourself. It seemed like Kay was constantly laughing at things Benny would say and vice versa. Then again, they could be pity laughs. You hope they were just pity laughs.
Benny didn’t come back inside until the night ended and people were beginning to head home. He said his goodbyes, even to Kay, before coming back inside and searching for you. His eyes land on you near the pool table with Kathy and he makes his way towards you, grabbing your jacket and his.
“You ready to go?” you hear Benny ask from behind you.
“Oh, yeah. I guess it is late,” you turn around to look at him, no Kay in sight. You put the pool stick back in its spot, Kathy doing the same. 
He hands you your jacket before putting on his leather one as you all exit the bar. 
“You two be careful getting home,” Kathy tells the two of you, mostly to Benny as a warning. He rolls his eyes in response.
“Relax, Kathy, she’ll be fine,” Benny says, handing you a helmet before starting the engine of his motorcycle.
You watch as Kathy walks away, heading towards one of the Vandals already on their bikes and asks for a ride home. You give her a wave as Benny pulls off, before wrapping your arms around his waist, hoping he doesn’t do anything too reckless on the way home.
You hate that you feel this way about Benny staying outside practically the whole night. It’s not like it’s a new thing for him since it's common to see some of the Vandals outside enjoying a cigarette. It’s just that you weren’t a huge fan of Kay being in his company, for an extended period of time at that. 
Again though, you shouldn’t care because he’s going home with you tonight and not her, but you still do.
When the two of you arrive back to your place, you quickly dismount the bike and head inside to take a shower, not wanting Benny to see your face because there’s no doubt that he’ll be able to see right through you. 
You hope he doesn’t try to join you in the shower either, since you’re not particularly in the mood at the moment. Thankfully he doesn’t and just sprawls out on the bed and waits for his turn in the bathroom.
While Benny’s in the shower, you decide to go downstairs and make a cup of tea to help you relax – reading a random newspaper while you wait for the water to boil on the stove. Hopefully this will help you get over the petty thoughts in your mind.
“I forgot to ask you, the guys are having this picnic in a couple of days and I was wondering if you wanted to come?” you hear Benny ask as he enters the kitchen. You glance out of the corner of your eye and take in his appearance – he’s wearing sweatpants and a tank top with his hair still damp.
“Yeah,” you answer, keeping your eyes on the paper on the counter. “Who’s going to be there? everyone?”
He starts listing off some names.
“And Kay?” you ask.
“I guess so, yeah,” Benny blinks, confused as to why you asked, but choosing to ignore it. 
It’s silent for a moment, neither of you saying anything next. Then you hear the sound of boiling water, so you move from leaning against the counter to pour the water into a cup, the tea bag already sitting inside.
Behind you, Benny is staring at you with his eyebrows furrowed, sensing something is up and trying to figure out what. He didn’t do anything tonight, at least he doesn’t think he did, so why did you seem upset? Was it because of someone back at the bar, one of the Vandals?
“What’s up with you?” Benny asks with a tilt of his head.
“Nothing, why?” you shrug, giving the water in a cup a small stir before grabbing your newspaper to read again.
“Because you’ve barely said anything since we left the bar, so what is it?” he asks as he steps closer to you.
“I just said something.”
“Oh wow, four whole sentences,” he sarcastically says. “I’m serious.”
You take a deep breath. “I’m fine, I’m just tired.”
Benny doesn’t believe it for a second. He steps closer to you and takes the newspaper from your hands, wanting you to look at him. He was going to get to the bottom of this.
“What are you doing?” you turn to look at him.
“No, what are you doing? What’s up with this little mood you’re in?”
“Benny, please, it’s too late for this,” you roll your eyes and turn away, reaching for your cup. So much for relaxation.
Benny takes that from your hands too, moving everything out of your reach and using his body to press you against the counter. It took him a minute, but he thinks he has an answer.
“What’s your problem?”
“Why did you ask if Kay was going to the picnic?” 
“I didn’t know it was a problem for me wanting to know who’s attending,” you fold your arms across your chest, you glare up at him.
“It’s not, but you never ask about her. So what is it really?”
“What are you trying to accuse me of?”
“We both know what,” Benny leans down closer to your face, placing his arms on the counter on both sides of you. “I just need you to say it.”
“Fuck you,” you stare into his eyes, his gaze just as intense.
And fuck him for being able to read you like a book.
“So it’s true, then?” He raises his eyebrows in amusement.
There was no way in hell you were going to say you were jealous.
But Benny will. “There’s no need for this facade anymore. You’re jealous, and that’s okay,” He smirks.
You just stare back at him, your jaw clenched and slightly embarrassed.
“And what’s even funnier is that it’s because of someone like her,” he laughs.
You don’t say anything, but look away from his gaze.
“Oh come on, baby, don’t be like that,” He told you, moving his head to try and meet your gaze, but you don’t budge and continue to stare at the wall. “You would think that the fact that I’m sleeping in the house with you is confirmation enough that you’re the one I care for. Not to mention the countless times I’ve left you speechless in the bedroom.”
“Benny!” you gasp, shoving him away from you, but he just comes right back. 
“What made you jealous of her?” He questions, his smirk disappearing and his face becoming more serious.
“Nothing important,” you tell him, trying to get him to drop this conversation. You really were tired, and buddy wanted to go to sleep after an eventful night, but it’s Benny.
“No, no, no. Tell me,” He shakes his head before adding, “Don’t make me force it out of you.”
You hesitate for a moment. “She was practically all over you outside the bar, and you didn’t seem to have a problem with it,” you admit.
“I noticed that too, but I didn’t want to make a scene,” he says and you shoot him another glare. “But since you seem to care so much, I’ll remember to make one next time.”
He glanced down at your lips for a second before leaning in to close the gap between the two of you, but you move your head out of the way and press your finger against his lips.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” He mumbles. “What now?”
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1K notes · View notes
fastandcarlos · 4 months
Text
The Littlest Surprise » Daniel Ricciardo
caption: hello im a new f1 content creator and would love some feedback if you enjoy my fics tysm 🩷
summary: you’ve not been seen at the paddock for a while and the fans are getting worried, little do they know the reason for your absence is about to make everyone’s dreams come true
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liked by schecoperez, georgerussell63 and 842,420 others
danielricciardo: always a pleasure to have the fam on my side, excited to show the little ones what uncle danny gets up to 🥺
49,302 comments
username1: is this yet another race y/n won’t be at this weekend??
username2: I cannot wait for the day that this man becomes a dad
username3: if y/n doesn’t hurry up and make him a dad…daniel i’m happy to offer my services 😊
maxverstappen1: how big is y/n/n now! she looks so grown up 🥺
danielricciardo: @/maxverstappen1 she’ll be 6 soon, where does the time go??
oscarpiastri: don’t forget your little adopted aussie nephew
landonorris: and your british nephew too!!
danielricciardo: @/oscarpiastri @/landonorris hey! i might be a bit older but not old enough to be your uncle thank you
username4: anyone else think something might be going on, daniel posting about his family without y/n there is strange
username5: @/username4 let’s not overthink this too much, y/n might just be busy
username4: @/username5 it’s been ages since we last saw her, you gotta admit it’s a bit sus
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liked by lewishamilton, alex_albon and 629,301 others
danielricciardo: another great weekend of racing, nice feeling to be back on the podium…man how I missed hearing that champagne pop 🏎️
38,402 comments
charles_leclerc: congrats brother, nice to be up there with you once again
username6: y/n not distracting you anymore to stop you getting on the podium??
username7: @/username6 wtf? why would you suggest such a thing?
carlossainz55: always knew you’d be back up there one day, long may it continue!
yukitsunoda0511: you gotta give me some tips bro, those manoeuvres were lethal today 🔥
pierregasly: danny ric just doing danny ric things
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liked by ynusername, charles_leclerc and 922,547 others
danielricciardo: hey team! just wanted to clear up some things after miami this weekend…me and y/n are absolutely fine, had some things going on that I promise we’ll explain soon ❤️❤️ for now tho, here’s an update on life recently ☁️✨
92,174 comments
ynusername: 🥺🥺🥺🥺
username8: I knew you guys would be okay, take as long as you need my two favourites!!
username9: a big screw you to those who doubted you…real fans love you guys
landonorris: I love you guys, here if you need anything brother ❤️
username10: hope whatever is going on clears up soon, we’re missing you guys around here🩷
lilymhe: tell y/n to gimme a call! ily guys ✨
visacashapprb: can’t wait to welcome y/n back into the paddock soon - see you for race week!
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liked by danielricciardo, iamrebeccad and 310,409 others
ynusername: it’s been a long few months, but we finally feel ready to share with you our happy news. pregnancy has been tough, I’d love to say it has treated me well, but it hasn’t. I cannot thank daniel enough for being by my side and helping me out whenever I’ve needed him…baby spam incoming ⛅️🍼
ps. each of us chose a picture to share, guess who chose what 🙄
28,461 comments
danielricciardo: words cannot begin to describe how proud I am of how brave you’ve been, the worst of it is over now my love, the countdown to baby ricciardo starts now
danielricciardo: ps my photo is way cooler than yours is
landonorris: omg I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell me, uncle Lando reporting for duty!
carlossainz55: the biggest congratulations you two, you’re going to be the best parents
carmenmmundt: so glad to hear y/n is doing better, may the rest of your pregnancy be a dream ✨
lilymhe: the strongest girl I know - so excited to see you become a mum 😍
username11: all my manifesting has paid off, baby ricciardo will be the luckiest
oscarpiastri: AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE!!
estebanocon: my spidey senses were spot on, I knew a baby was on the way!
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liked by danielricciardo, lance_stroll and 102,585 others
ynusername: life lately 💫 exhausted but loving all the little things (including daniel 😂)
17,492 comments
username12: y/n looks like she’s living the dream, mum life suits her well 🥺
danielricciardo: im definitely not a “little thing” how else did we end up like this?
landonorris: @/danielricciardo excuse me sir you are about to have a child, sort your humour out
maxverstappen1: glad to see you’re feeling more like yourself again y/n, brunch on me soon!
ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 yes - let’s not tell daniel #gatecrasher
danielricciardo: @/ynusername you know your comments are public…right?
username13: anyone else wishing they could brunch with y/n too??
lance_stroll: sending all the good book recs your way!
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 738,603 others
danielricciardo: babymooning 🍼 the smile says it all, so happy to have my girl back on her feet and feeling like herself again…making the last few memories just the two of us 🥺
83,500 comments
ynusername: thank you for the best couple of days and being my personal taxi driver
username14: look at his face - you can tell daniel is buzzing to be a dad
pierregasly: where was my invite?? I thought we were friends
carlossainz55: and mine!
georgerussell63: me too!
landonorris: looks like we were all forgotten!
visacashapprb: enjoy the break daniel! you and y/n absolutely deserve it 🏁🩷
username15: i speak for all your fans when i say keep the holiday photos coming pls
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
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liked by ynusername, georgerussell63 and 920,355 others
danielricciardo: mum and dad 🔥🥺
tagged: ynusername
58,429 comments
landonorris: adopt me pls, im less problematic than a baby
danielricciardo: @/landonorris debatable
lewishamilton: so glad to see you both so happy, good luck with everything
charles_leclerc: wow!! y/n looks insane (suppose you look alright too daniel!)
ynusername: mum and dad?? i can definitely get used to hearing that 🤩
alex_albon: it’s not fair how adorable you two are, this kid is hella lucky!!
username16: pls keep the baby spam coming, you guys are the sweetest 🍼💫
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
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liked by lilymhe, yukitsunoda0511 and 109,446 others
ynusername: the many faces of a man who has just remembered he’s just signed up for no sleep for the next 10 years 😂
tagged: danielricciardo
23,201 comments
danielricciardo: after all I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me? you just wait my love 🫢
ynusername: @/danielricciardo this was too good of an opportunity to miss
carlossainz55: make the most of that middle photo whilst you can danny
georgerussell63: you have NO idea how much I just laughed at this y/n 😂😂😂
schecoperez: speaking from experience, you could not be more correct y/n #dannynosleep
username17: embarrassing dad before even becoming a dad 😬
oscarpiastri: call me for anymore embarrassing daniel pics 😂
danielricciardo: @/oscarpiastri no one asked for you to show up here
username18: I just want you to be my mum and dad instead 😭
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
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liked by oscarpiastri, carmenmmundt and 113,999 others
ynusername: can you believe this man is really about to become a father?? 🤦🏻‍♀️
32,694 comments
charles_leclerc: sometimes i really do wonder what you see in him y/n
landonorris: the biggest clown known to man, still the world’s biggest kid 😂😂
danielricciardo: is that really how you want to talk about the father of your child? I thought you were supposed to love me
ynusername: @/danielricciardo i do, ily very much 🥰
username17: not y/n releasing all the humiliating photos of daniel now they’re about to be parents
username18: y/n’s clearing the phone album for baby spam and giving us daniel spam in return
logansargeant: more to the point, this is the guy you chose as the father of your child??
lilymhe: the two of you are perfect for each other y/n ❤️
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
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liked by ynusername, oscarpiastri and 1,403,407 others
danielricciardo: welcome to the world baby ricciardo 💕
after a lot of hardships and tricky times, y/n and i are beyond excited to share with you that our little one is here. everyone is safe, loved and doing well, my heart has never felt so full 🥺
tagged: ynusername
 ˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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iwaasfairy · 3 months
Note
IWA HARSH PUSSY SLAPPPPSSS OR FINGERINGGGG
a/n. yea I made it dad iwa and also some oc bullshit fucking suE ME but it’s good i like this one yeAAAA I hope you enjoy BBYYYYY I know I liked writing it hahahHAHA
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GET IT RIGHT
tw. incest, dad x daughter, single dad iwa, reader’s a brat, obv age gap, size stuff implied, pussy slapping, (hard-ish) dom iwa, brat taming, noncon voyeurism, it’s a family affair, solo masturbation, jealousy wc. 3k
iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader, iwaizumi eiji and hitoshi x fem!reader
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Its not his business that you’re a total nympho. Frankly, he could care less. Hitoshi’s eyes flick from under his baseball cap to the older sibling’s smug, almost accomplished smile when he runs a hand through his head of hair, before shaking some of the excess water out. The lighter brunet chuckles. “Our little sister’s laying on a towel with her tits out in the Oikawa’s backyard.”
“Dad’s over there, ain’t he?” Hitoshi responds, already back to scrolling mindlessly through Reddit to cure some of his boredom. Head of the Iwaizumi house said to ‘go outside for a bit’ so here he is, sweating his ass off in the lawn chair. What you’re up to really is none of his concern. Really. Eiji only smiles.
“And what? You think he’s gonna tell her off? Be for real for a second, Tosh.” There’s a look on Eiji’s face. Mixed in under the amusement and the bolstering, there’s something a bit tense. Impatient, and though he’d sooner die than admit it, Hitoshi recognises the glint that sits in the slight scrunch of his nose. He’s jealous. Yeah, you’re the type of little sister who gets away with having your tits out while they’re supposed to pretend not to see it. After sloppily patting himself dry with one of the towels, the oldest sibling slaps his phone out of his hands to grunt. “Get up.”
He responds before he thinks. “Fuck you, bitch.”
But it doesn’t bother his brother, who only tosses the towel back onto the table. “Stop intellectualising it and get up. You wanna get a look too, right? Dad’s over there right now to keep an eye on our little sister, and no one else is home. What do you think’s gonna happen.”
+
The sun’s so nice on your bare skin, glowing heat onto you and making you feel so sleepy and dazed. You’re all housesitting, which means access to the ridiculously nice pool of the Oikawa’s — and a secluded garden where you’re free to do whatever the fuck you want. The low voice is the only thing interrupting the peace. Daddy. “Babe. What do you think you’re doing?”
Your hat’s covering most of your view, but if you crack open one eye you can just about make out the way your dad crosses his arms over his wide chest, wife beater clinging a bit too tight to his muscular form. You push your lips out. “Sunbathing.”
“Put something on.” He sounds a bit tight, like he’s gotta clear his throat. Good.
“Why though?” You lift the hat up with one finger to look up further, see the slightly flushed visage of your father as he eyes you down. He’s a bit sweaty, yard work, and now has all his attention aimed at you. “I can’t get warm evenly all over if I do. Besides, no one’s home, and no one’s gonna look at me. The only people who can see into the yard is us, and Hitoshi nii’s not going to crawl out of his dungeon to spy on me, I promise you.”
It stays quiet for a few seconds as he takes in your words, before he sighs. Frowns just a bit, as he lets his eyes glide down your body just once. Enough to have his jaw clench, though. “I’m working here.” Then, after a bit more thought, he forces out the rest of the words. “You’re distracting.”
“Daddy~ please~” you start though, now pushing off the hat completely and wrapping your arm around yourself in mock-modesty. You have no intention of actually covering up. And looking at the way he’s breathing and already sweaty, he doesn’t actually want you to cover up either. “Nobody’s home. It’s fine. Please?” His olive green eyes flick to the way you’re pushing up your tits with your arms now, and those swimming trunks start feeling a bit tight on him if the way he shifts is anything to go by. The intense look would’ve scared you off before, but… well, it isn’t the first time you’ve gotten away with worse.
It also probably won’t be the last. “Once the sun is gone I’ll cover up to go back into the pool out front, promise.” You smack your lips, and give him those big puppy eyes that he seems to love so much. “Ei nii’s out there and I don’t want him to get an eyeful anyway.” You roll onto your side to send him your best smile. “Only trust you like that, daddy~” You’re audacious, a brat, but only because you know that gets him going. Wouldn’t do it this way if he really didn’t like it. When you go to lay back down with closed eyes, you can already hear him move in the grass.
A slight line works its way between your brows at that, at the idea that he’d walk away from you. But then a warm palm wraps around your arm to pin it beside your head on the towel, and you can feel the heat of him getting onto his heels beside you. Your breathing hitches, but you force yourself to keep your eyes closed. “Trust me to do what, exactly?” He rasps.
His other hand comes to your shoulder to push his thumb in, nice and hard, and works a moan out of you before you can think— working his way down in circles that pull goosebumps out of you. “What’s all this show really for? To make your big brothers jealous? Hm?” He gets close enough for the whispered voice to tickle your neck, hot thigh pressed against your waist before he places the other on your other side, straddling you. “You think that you can ‘daddy’ all your problems away? That if you look at me sweetly enough I’ll give?”
“I- didn’t-” your voice hitches when his mouth drags over your pulse, slight stubble and warm lips leaving kisses all down the length if it. The heat of the sun on your naked chest only makes the almost touch more irritable and itchy, and you have to fight the urge to just curl your body up against him already. “Didn’t want my big brothers to see. Wanted -you to.” When he noses at your collarbone you try to find your voice, and worm your wrist out of his grip to reach for his hair. “Wanted daddy to play with me again. I’ve been waiting since yesterday. Please.”
You can’t help but think back to last weekend, grinding down on his thigh with his fingers down your throat. Panties coated in stickiness and your entire body trembling with exhaustion. He laves soft mouthed kisses onto your throat enough to have you shaking now, too. But Hajime’s nothing if not consistent, as he noses the side of your breast and his hands slide down to squeeze your waist. “You know that I can’t, right?” He always says that.
You can’t help but laugh, humourlessly, and tug softly at the hair trapped between your fingers. “Then why are you?” And he is. As soon as he gets near enough, you arch your back automatically, still clenching your eyes closed. If you look now, the image will haunt you every day for the rest of summer. You’ll need daddy’s hands on you until you can’t go any more. Your tit is pushed against his cheeks because of your motion, and he groans a low, rumbling sound against your body. You can feel the heat of his bulge through his shorts. “Did you get jealous that Eiji might’ve seen me? Even a little?”
A second passes, before he finally grunts. “Fuck, yeah.” His mouth comes to your tits, tongue rubbing over hardened nipples too well, too knowingly. Knowing your daddy’s had other women before could make you green with envy, but he feels so good. His mouth, and hands feel so fucking good. Good enough to cry about it, trapped under his broad, heavy form as he squeezes and sucks your tits. “You’re a headache, you know that? Do you feel what you do to me?”
“Mhm.” You nod, panting, squirming under him. His hardening cock pushes against your thigh as you roll your hips, and he leaves impatient lovebites all over your tits. “Daddy.. d-daddy. Want you.” He’s so big and hot and heavy against you any time you get this close, it’s not your fault. You’re only a headache because he made you one. The clothed grinding against his covered, hard cock leaves your pussy awfully wet and sticky. Your breaths short. “Don’t you wanna- s-show your boys who your daughter belongs to, daddy?”
Your eyes shoot open when a sharp sting jerks your body, spreading through the flesh of your tit before he laves his tongue over the ridges where his teeth dug in. He clicks his tongue while grinding your other nipple between his fingers, making your bottom lip wobble. It feels so good, he always does. It’s not your fault. “Stop tempting me to make you regret your little stunt.” Your teary eyes meet his, dark and predatory before he pushes himself up, and yanks you closer by your thighs. “Legs up on my shoulders.”
“But-“
“Legs.” He says again, lower. You do, let him help your ass up to his mouth and reposition you so he’s level with your cunt. Your pussy clenches around nothing as he blows on your clit through the fabric, and only one hand keeps wrapped like a vice around your thigh to stabalize you. “I don’t wanna hear anything except how good it feels. Understood?”
You nod, before thinking better of it and speaking up. “Yes.” Fuck, it’s hot. He’s hot. You’re about to melt into a puddle with his face between your legs. He pushes your bikini bottoms aside with rough fingertips before pushing in. And you gasp, doing everything not to whine already. As his nose pushes against your sensitive clit, his lips find yours to leave a wet kiss on the opening, and he pushes his tongue against your sloppy lips without another warning. It’s already too much.
“Agh- d-daddy. You feel g- gh-ud.”
The big, hot tongue pushing you open, makes you grind against him while blood rushes both to your cunt and your head. His other hand flicks over your enterance a few times instead, before two thick fingertips push inside you, slow at first. He makes a show out of bottoming them out, and you can feel the way he smiles when it makes your pussy squelch. His tongue flicks over your clit hard and fast, before sucking. “Fuck, you’re so- good- g-good to me. Daddy!”
“Mhm.” The blood makes your ears ring. It makes you so dizzy it’s impossible to see much past daddy’s face and how good he looks, rubbing his tongue in rough motions over your pussy. He’s licking and licking and licking against your clenching muscles so good it’s almost unbelievable. The rough friction of his chin and stubble against your pussy, the way he nibbles just right at your clit, it’s all too much. It’s too much because it’s daddy— because he knows what he’s doing.
“D-daddy!”
You mewl as you curl your body against him and the push to your clit gets even better. Too good. You’re so sweaty his hand slips on your thigh, instead pulling you back by your heel and yanking you back up, right as your toes curl. His face is making a mess between your legs, and your mouth hangs open. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He- he’s already gonna make you cum. Sweat rolls down your back as your juices run down his chin and he buries himself as deep as he can, groaning your name into your pussy. “That’s my pretty girl, there you go.”
Your thighs squeeze around him and your eyes open through your tears, desperately searching for the eye contact you need to get there. But maybe because he knows you, he pulls back and drops you back down by your legs, spreading them by his thighs. “No, no- daddy pleas-uhh~ I wanna cum.”
“You’re coming on my cock.” He snaps back, before pushing you open more and slapping your pussy with a flat palm. “That alright with you, miss princess?” He says it like it’s an insult. For a moment, it does feel like it. Your mouth snaps shut against the cry you wanna let out, as his hand lands again before you can react. You jerk against the sting, clench your legs closed around his hand, but he pushes them back open to do it again. And again, and again, until slick is dripping down to your ass and your clit is tingling and swollen. You could burst out into a sobbing fit any second. “Can I do what I gotta do to get you there now?”
“Yes,” you sniffle back instantly, and open your eyes at him. Thick tears sit on your vision at it, you can’t help it. It’s all his fault you’re this way anyway. Your thighs wobble before your bottom lip does, and it’s this that makes him sigh.
“Aw, babe, shhhh— I’m sorry.” He takes only a moment to pull his shirt over his head, then gets back over you to wipe away the thick tracks. It doesn’t do much against the tears that keep coming, but it’s ok. It’s much better when you can place your hands to his bare chest and feel his heartbeat through your palms, reach up to kiss him. He tastes like you, and you suck on his tongue until he moans into the kiss. When he pulls back, that hot, big palm cups your cheek. “Was that mean?”
“I deserved it.” His dialated eyes search yours for a moment, before he kisses you back another few times. The tingling ache between your legs remains, but there’s a pit in your stomach that becomes more demanding again. “Please keep going?”
“Take me out.” Your hands instantly glide down his body at the order, hooking two fingers around the elastic band before pulling. Pulling down until you reveal the trail of pubic hair that leads down to his thick, flushed cock and down further. Down until the fabric can no longer hold him back from bobbing up against his stomach and he lets out a deep breath. You pull a little more to get a glimpse of his fat, heavy balls too, before daddy grunts and places both elbows by your head again. “Lead my cock inside you like a good girl, hm?”
“Uhuh.” Gladly. Your fingers reach for him, touching the dripping head first. Pre gets all over your fingertips, and you truly can’t stop yourself from putting two fingers inside your mouth with a whimper. Your hands return to squeeze around the head, need both to reach and stroke down a few times. Not that he needs it. He’s hard enough to feel his heartbeat through the skin, thick cock twitching as you shuffle around to line up. “‘s big.”
“It’s big to make you feel good.” He agrees, kisses your temple, and bucks into your palm. “Go on.” You line him up with a deep breath, before blinking your long lashes up at him with your lip between your teeth. The head kisses your hole as he hums, slides your slick around on the puffy mushroom head a few times before pushing in. “Ugh-always forget,” he grunts lowly, biceps bulging as he holds himself above you, “how fucking tight you are. My little baby.”
He starts rocking himself inside you bit by bit, and you can’t help but drag your nails along his flexing back to hang on. “Ah, ah, agh, daddy. You’re- so- big.” You throw your head back, and pant, tears still wobbling. You’re no longer sad though. Your pussy’s being forced open too big, too- fucking wide for you to clench around him properly- but it feels so good. He feels so fucking good, oh God. You want to fuck daddy all summer. You want him to never, ever stop.
+
Hitoshi’s so fucking hot it makes it hard to see straight. Cum’s gotten on his shirt, all over his hand, and he’s got boxers full of cum running down his fucking thigh. While his cock’s still hard and red in his fist as he forces his own hips not to buck. He can just barely hear your whines echo over the field to where they’re hiding— and you sound, predictably, just like how he imagined you do. You look good. Fuck, he’s sure you’d look just as good under him, but instead you’re clinging flushed faced, tits bouncing to your dad with his greying temples and letting yourself get used.
You’re pathetic, honestly. But he’s also not fucking blind. His cock twitches hard in his hand, and his other hand comes to cover the flared head as if that’ll keep a third load in. He’s trying to hold it so hard that he’s panting, balls pulling up to his body.
“Think she’ll let me eat the cum out of her when dad leaves?” Eiji’s pumping his cock without shame like there’s no tomorrow, getting drops of hot, clear liquid everywhere. He’s christened the plants with his cum earlier, too. Hitoshi just grimaces, before looking back at the way your body curls around the fat cock driving in and out of you, your cries about to make him bust again. “Huh?”
“I don’t fucking care, Ei nii.” He then furrows his brows so deep that you’d say he’ll get permanent wrinkles, not bothering to look over. “Why do you wanna eat dad’s cum out of her?”
“So I can fuck my own into her.”
Hitoshi’s too busy watching you and breathing through it to care about what he’s saying, so it takes a minute to filter through his hazy thoughts. “You’re a pig.”
Eiji just rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say, quick shot. Have fun trying not to cum when I go next.”
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