#I look up the most effective ways to hide a body

[magicalbats]

Persist and Resist (Sunday x Reader)

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 7730

Warnings: afab!reader, handjob, cum eating, a pinch of femdom, canon typical Catholic guilt

A/N: Happy Valentine's everyone! I actually started writing this one in response to an ask I got back when I was working on last years kinktober but at some point in shuffling the text around from here to Google docs it seems Tumblr ate the initial message, which is a big bummer. I do, however, recall that the sender wanted to know what I liked about Sunday ... and the answer to that is clearly 7730 words long! lol Please enjoy the fic and if you're still around, anon ... this one is for you. ❤️

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“Just relax,” you murmur, ignoring his startled gasp when you lean in from behind to rest your chin against his shoulder. “You’re always so stiff. That’s not good for your health, y’know.”

He hesitates, seems to think about it. Deciding how he should react. 

Forcing himself to draw a slow, carefully measured breath this time and further betraying his feelings on the matter, Sunday grits out a terse laugh. It’s soft and quiet. A barely there chuckle that carries with it only a very small fraction of the self assured confidence he’d displayed back on Penacony. 

You knew now that the real Sunday was not quite so sure of himself or as comfortable in his own skin as he’d first appeared, although he still tries very hard to hide that insecurity from you despite being far, far away from his old home. Like some sort of defense mechanism meant to protect and shield the delicate fragile parts of him from threat of the outside world, but it doesn’t work. Not when you were sitting so damn close to him as to feel every stuttering beat of his heart.

Pressed right up against his back like this, there’s not much he can keep from you, in fact. You’re keenly aware of even the most imperceptible shift in him, from the steady expansion of his lungs down to the loose flex of his hands where they’re resting across his lap. His body language makes it clear that he’s not accustomed to sharing such close proximity with another person and he’s not quite sure what to do with it. Right down to the molecular level it’s obvious he’s way out of his comfort zone given his subtle fidgeting, as if he just couldn’t help himself.

He was nervous. Maybe even a little scared, too.

“How interesting.” He finally murmurs. “I wasn’t aware you filled the important role of medical expert on board the Express. I’ll have to make note not to end up in need of your services again.”

Turning his head, Sunday pointedly looks elsewhere in your new room on the train, much preferring to focus on anything other than its owner at the moment. 

Situated above the party car and effectively cut off from the more heavily used common areas, the privacy here is absolute and precisely why you’d extended an invitation to him. There was more than enough room for you to share this space with the wayward traveler who, as far as you could tell, had been sleeping on the bench seats in the car below while you worked to get everything set up to your liking. But he never complained about it or tried to demand better accommodations even though you were certain it was a drastic downgrade in the comfortability he was used to. Like some self flagellating martyr, almost. 

The thought that he might be using the Express’ lack of additional rooms to further punish himself, convinced he deserved that or even less, was what ultimately swayed your decision to open your door to him. You wanted to show Sunday that there were still good things in this world that he could have, things he could enjoy and appreciate the same way he had in his previous life even if they weren’t quite as luxurious or posh as he was accustomed to. 

You also wanted to show him that you were willing to forgive him and, in the process, maybe even convince him to forgive himself. 

“Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“No.” He insists, just a bit too tightly for it to be believable. “But I’ve seen you in action before. You’re not exactly what I’d call a gentle hand, and this … bedside manner is beyond me.”

That makes you smile into his shoulder as you wind your arms more securely around him, gently nudging Sunday back against your front. Still, he refuses to relent though. Staying perfectly motionless and straight as a board now, he almost feels like a statue made of solid granite sitting on the edge of the haphazardly made bed with you. Would have, were it not for the slightest hitch in his chest.

You realize in a distant, immaterial sort of way that his subconscious reaction was in response to your breasts pressing into his spine. He must like it then, even if he was loathe to say it. This was admittedly something you found to be charmingly cute in its guileless unassuming but it also made you want to tease him even more for it at the same time.

“That might be for the best,” You softly coo at him, keeping your voice light and barely more than a whisper as you trail a single hand higher up to pull at one of the clasps on his jacket. “I don’t have a medical license, after all.”

He sucks in another inhale, sharper this time. “You’re shameless.”

“That may be true, but I don’t see you trying to stop me.”

A strange little sound puffs out of him, something equally torn between indignation and fluster.

He either can’t or he won’t bring himself to reject your advances though, and he just sits there while you make careful work of unfastening his cozy coat. Idly, you wonder if this was the first time he’s ever had someone touching him like this. But he’s either making an attempt to be more polite than he otherwise would have been when someone was invading his personal bubble like this or, more likely, he considered it another facet of his penance. Further punishment for a sin he’s already been punished for twice over in your eyes. 

Sighing a quiet sound against his neck, you tentatively slip your hand into the inner layer of his shirt once you’ve got it nudged up enough to reach inside.

The skin along his stomach is enviously soft and smooth when you brush your fingers against it, and he outright jolts at that first hint of contact. Even then he still does not protest or try to pull away, though. His breathing deepens, coming slightly harder and faster now, but he makes no move to disengage from you, and you finally rouse yourself to tip your face up at him in question.

“I was only joking, Sunday. You can tell me if you don’t want me to keep going.”

“So you can hold it over my head later? I think not, Miss Stellaron. Against all odds, I still have some pride left in me.”

You frown at that. “I wouldn’t do that to you. You’re not a prisoner here and I’m not your jailer, so you’re free to make your own choices. I just want to help you.”

For a drawn out moment it doesn’t look like you’re going to get any kind of response from him, and you’re just a bit disappointed about that. But then, ever so slowly, he turns his head to cautiously glance back at you. The deeply embarrassed flush staining his cheekbones manages to surprise you, making your brows climb up to your hairline before you can suppress the reaction and stop it.

“I fail to see how this could be in any way helpful to me.” He intones, keeping his wing tucked forward across the lower half of his face so he can hide his mouth from your line of sight. Acting as a final barrier in case you were to decide to take that last inch from him. 

“I thought this might help you relax. You are pretty stiff, you know. I wasn’t joking about that.”

That defensively tucked in wing gives a brief flutter to make the soft feathers ruffle slightly, like a helpless bird trying to puff itself up to look bigger. It would have been adorable had his eyes not narrowed at you in warning in the same breath.

“I’ve never heard of such a method for relaxation. This isn’t how the Family does things.”

“But you’re not part of the Family anymore, are you? It’s okay to do things differently now.” Holding the air in your lungs, anticipating the coin drop, you slide the hand inside his shirt a little higher up to rub over a tiny nipple. “Let me show you, Sunday. Please?”

He twitches at the touch of your fingertips and quickly swings his attention back around to avoid having to look at you any longer. You can feel the shudder that runs through him but he still refuses to utter the one word that would make you back off. ‘Stop’. That’s all he needed to say. And you would, if he really wanted that. 

Something told you he didn’t completely hate what you were doing though, and it’s not like he’d ever admit to liking it anyway.

So you take your time softly petting over the petite bud, coaxing it to full stiffness which even then doesn’t leave much for you to play with. Every part of him was so slim and compact that as you feel over his chest you find yourself wondering if he was perhaps malnourished despite the life of relative luxury he’d lived back on Penacony. He shouldn’t have had to go without food, at the very least.

Deciding to find him a slice of cake in the kitchen after this, or at least a cookie, you redirect your hand to the opposite side of his chest to tease that nipple as well. Sunday stiffly arches against you in response, nudging his narrow chest up at the sensation even as he whimpers a quiet noise into the still room. He was slowly getting more and more fidgety, like he wasn’t quite sure how to react to what you were doing. How to process it or how to reconcile any of it in his mind. 

But a simple glance down at the front of him tells you everything you need to know without having to break the static charged silence by asking him how he was feeling. He wouldn’t have been honest with you anyway, of that you were certain, so there would have been no point in it.

The reluctant tent pushing up through his pants speaks for itself though, and this part of him could not lie. No matter how much he tried to fight it or wrestle it back under control, there was simply no subjugating the natural urges of his body. He couldn’t fully control it no matter how much he might want to and you can tell that bothers him a great deal in the way he softly seethes under his breath.

He was supposed to be disciplined and steadfast, not easily swayed by the compunctions of flesh and blood. And after rejecting it for so long, stuffing it down into a sealed box in the back of his mind where he wouldn’t have to look at it or think about it, he was now quickly succumbing to the full brunt of his neglected sensitivity. All you’ve done so far was tease his nipples a little bit and his cock was already needily flexing up into the placket of his slacks as if with a mind of its own. A hungry beast that couldn’t be contained no matter how hard its master might yank on the leash trying to bring it back to heel. 

It’s a little sad, in a way. You can’t help feeling sorry for him and all the simple pleasures he’s denied himself for the sake of exerting some amount of control over his own existence when he otherwise had none, but you also feel a sharp stab of arousal too. There were so many things you could teach him, if given half the chance. So many different avenues of pleasure and satisfaction, and intimacy that the two of you could explore together if he’d just allow himself the freedom to experience them for once in his life.

In truth you’d found Sunday quite interesting from the moment you first set eyes on him in front of the check-in counter of the Penacony Grand Hotel, like there was some sort of magnetic force at work urging you closer into his orbit. You knew now that at least part of that compulsion was a result of the Harmony and the other was his natural charisma as a Halovian. But there’s something else there too, something not so easily explained or written off.

He was not that much unlike you, was he? Someone who was so utterly bereft of a home to call his own in this vast cosmos that the nomadic existence of a star-bound wanderer was the only feasible option left to him. Everything from his identity right down to his own sister had been taken from him and he was alone now, save you and the rest of the Astral Express crew. You could understand that well enough even if you didn’t have any memories of what you’d lost before ending up here, just the same as he eventually had.

But you wanted to show him what having that freedom was really like, even if it was just a tiny glimpse of what awaited him on the other side now that he was free of Penacony’s slumbering birdcage.

“Do you trust me, Sunday?”

He tries to laugh again, fails miserably at it, and all that comes out is an odd little croak instead. “I don’t see that I have much of a choice in the matter, do I?”

“Of course you do.” 

Carefully sliding your hand out of his shirt, you reach down to tug at his belt buckle with deliberate slowness, giving him ample opportunity to protest. He just groans the most threadbare little sound you’ve ever heard though, and finally allows himself to reluctantly ease back into you. Still unfalteringly stiff and halting, but at least you were making progress.

With a brief clink and a rattle, his belt comes loose. You set your sights on his pants next, fumbling with the top button just as slowly so as not to spook or startle him. He really was like a defenseless bird caught in the sights of a much larger predator and unable to fly, to flee or to fight. He remains passive in your arms, luckily, but the building anticipation of what you were doing does make him start to squirm. He quickly forces himself to stop and be still though, merely watching what your hands are doing with his face tipped down towards his lap.

Soon enough you have those neatly pressed slacks open and you slip your fingers inside to feel along the band of his underwear before trailing even lower. You find his straining cock easily when it’s already stiff and rigidly pushing up from his body, giving it a gentle squeeze through the last layer of laughably thin cotton, and he responds with a tortured, half choked gasp.

“M - Miss Stellaron …”

You can hear the hoarse rattle in his voice as much as you feel it where you’re pressed right up against him like you are. At some point your breathing seems to have synced with his and you find yourself quietly panting right along with him as you work to nudge his pants down far enough to free him from them. 

Clearly picking up on your intent, Sunday hesitates to do it and he sways almost unsteadily between your arms before he at last manages to shyly angle his hips off the edge of the mattress to help you in your endeavor. He whimpers softly while he does it, and you consolingly coo at him as you press your face into the crook of his elegant neck to breathe deep the smell of him. Soap and clean linen, and a hint of downy fuzz that makes your head feel light with the impression of warmth. Perfect for cuddling. 

“Shh. Just relax for me. I promise I’ll take good care of you. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Tipping forward, you place a tender kiss to his drooping wing and you’re delighted by the sensitive inhale he sucks in at the sensation of your lips brushing against the feathers. You’d always wondered if they were as delicately receptive as they looked and you were glad to have your answer even as you tug at his underwear to slide the band underneath his straining length.

And it immediately springs up into the air, already flushed and leaking as it weakly twitches in his lap as if in a desperate bid for attention. You’re amazed at not only how beautiful his cock is, average in size at best and yet so perfectly shaped as to look somehow beyond the pale of mere flesh, but also at how satiny soft and smooth it is. The flawless texture almost makes it look like something made of alabaster, and you eagerly reach around to take him in your hand.

“Oh!” His back dramatically arches against you, his hands flying up where they hesitate over yours for a harrowing moment before he allows himself to latch onto your wrists. It’s the first hint of reciprocity on his part, intentionally touching you instead of remaining a bystander as he had up until now, but you still hold your breath as you wait to see what he’ll do next.

If he was going to push you away this would be the time. The situation had clearly escalated beyond what could be excused as simple platonic affection and you brace for his reaction. His rejection. 

To your genuine surprise, however, Sunday just holds onto you by the wrists and weakly rolls his hips up in a shuddering, painfully stiff thrust. The motion sends his cock stuttering across your fingers before pulling back when he eases down to sit fully on the mattress again, wheezing softly at just that brief stimulation. You sorely wished you could see his face again but Sunday’s attention remains down and that fluttering wing stays an ever present screen for him to hide behind as well. 

No matter though. You didn’t really have need for visual cues when you could feel everything in stunning high definition through the point of contact between his body and yours. 

Closing your fist tighter around his cock, you gently begin to pump him, hand dragging from the base where ticklishly coarse hairs tease your knuckles straight up to the tip to make his foreskin bunch over the head. You can hear the sticky wet click of precum but it’s quickly lost under the harsh, frazzled gasp he raggedly pulls in. And it almost manages to surprise you, how sensitive he really is and how vigorously he twitches at your ministrations. There was some part of you that hadn’t been sure if he was even able to put on such an animated display, thinking he’d fight tooth and nail to keep up that implacable facade no matter what manner of duress he was made to endure. 

That is not what happens though. 

Instead he suddenly comes alive, unable to stop himself from full on shuddering and twisting his narrow hips against your hold. Hissing an overwrought sound into the otherwise still and silent room, he clutches at your arms in such a tight deathgrip that the leather of his gloves softly creaks. Not to stop you or to push you away, you dully realize when he groans your name like a plea. But because it felt good and it overwhelmed him, and he needed to hold onto something or risk shattering into a million pieces right then and there. 

Stealing another quick, almost giddy look down at the cock gripped in your fist, you don’t think that’s going to help him or stop the inevitable though. He’s flushed pink and raw from nothing more than just a few brief pumps of your hand, and you can feel the intense throb of him pulsing under your fingers. Not only was he going to cum quick and hard, considering how fiercely he shakes for you, but it was also going to take an embarrassing lack of effort on your part to get him there. 

“Oh, Sunny. Are you enjoying yourself now?” You purr into his shoulder, delighted at how abruptly he’d changed his songbird’s tune. From proud and immovable to a writhing, pathetically whimpering mess in just the blink of an eye. And all it had taken was the firm hold of your hand on him. It was in many ways astounding. “I always knew you had it in you.”

“I told you — nnghn! Not to … not to call me that.” 

Humming a low sound of agreement, you slowly drag your hand back down the length of him to peel away his foreskin in a tortuously stilted motion. Another sticky click hits your ears and he grunts a harried noise of distress when the cool air wafts against his exposed glans unimpeded, making him judder wildly in response. But you keep him held tightly against you even when his back dramatically bows, using your anchoring arm wrapped around his flexing stomach to keep Sunday pressed into you while the opposite hand gives his base a pinched squeeze to stave off his release. It wouldn’t hold it back for long but you were happy with even just those few extra seconds you’re given to admire him. 

And admire him you do. He’s sticky with an excess of eager, dribbling precum that coats the glistening head in a filmy sheen, inviting you to reach out and rub him there. You knew that would undo him in alarmingly short order though, so you hold off for the moment. Rather, you gently smooth your touch down to caress over his balls and wrap your fingers around their delicate weight, cradling them in the palm of your hand. 

Surprising you a great deal, Sunday outright yelps at the sensation and jolts as if you’d just electrocuted him despite how careful you’d been in handling his testes. Slim chest heaving on an uncontrollable, stuttering rhythm, he heavily leans back into you and tips his head to keen up at the ceiling. The sound itself as much as the volume of it makes your heart leap into your throat where it threatens to suffocate you. He was getting much too loud, wasn’t he?  

Your thoughts immediately flash upon the idea that someone might be just downstairs in the party car but you aren’t sure how well sound travels between the two floors, and that makes you nervous. Would they be able to hear him clearly and figure out what was happening just over their heads, or would it only seem like muffled and distant noise? Hell, even if one of your other crewmates wasn’t down there Shush almost certainly was. That damned robot hardly ever moved from behind the polished bar unless it was to pester someone with its awful jokes. What would it even say about the things it could hear going on up in your room? 

Quickly deciding you really didn’t want to test fate like that, you unlock your arm from around his middle and reach up to lightly palm over the graceful line of his throat instead. His Adam’s apple bobs thickly under your hand with the rough inhale he pulls in, swaying between your thighs when he turns his head to blink at you as if he were drunk and seeing double. But at least it looked like you had his attention again. 

“You need to watch your volume. If someone hears us, that's going to make having breakfast together way more awkward than I’d like.” You warn him, keeping your voice gentle and soft. For someone who’d acted with such overwhelming confidence on his home turf he’d quickly proven himself skittish and easy to fluster once you got your hands on him. You didn’t want to scare him off after all the effort you’d had to put in just to get this far. 

“I … I’m sorry.” He mutters with no shortage of Herculean effort. Gone are the impeccable manners and lofty words of the head of the Oak Family, and in their place there was now only a raw vulnerability you hadn’t expected to see in him. “It seems I’ve — forgotten myself. How embarrassing. I - I’ve never …”

“Been touched like this?” You supply, giving his balls a featherlight palpitation for emphasis. 

It’s enough to make Sunday hiss through tightly clenched teeth though, squeezing his eyes shut against the sensation as he turns his head away. “Yes. I mean n - no. This is my … first time.” 

That makes you smile. “I can tell. You’re so sensitive, Sunny. Haven’t you ever thought to touch yourself before?” 

His little wings flutter in response, flapping an irritable rhythm that makes the feathers softly smack against your face as if to bat you away. It’s hard to say if he was offended that you would even think to ask that of him in the first place or if it was because you’d used that insufferable nickname again but either way his reaction makes you laugh. 

Yes, there were a great many avenues of mischief the two of you could get into. It would be fun exploring them together, and this was only the first activity on a very long list of things you wanted to introduce him to. It was a bit out of order but maybe you could try kissing next. 

Your own excitement grows at the thought, and you eagerly swing your attention back around to Sunday’s lap. Giving his balls one last, gentle squeeze, you curl your hand upward so you can wrap it around his shaft and feel that silken skin under your fingers again. The seething noise he makes sounds suspiciously like that of a tea kettle getting close to boiling but he makes a valid attempt to keep his voice in check when you offer that rigid length another slow, savory tug. 

Unfortunately he quickly loses hold of that threadbare control as you reach the glans and the drag of your fist makes his foreskin slide up to bunch over the fleshy slit. The sensation seems to nearly bowl him over and he judders helplessly, squawking an oversensitized sound. Even with the threat of discovery an ever present danger, you still can’t quite stop yourself from grinning at his decidedly innocent, unassuming reaction. 

“Oh, Sunday … what are we going to do if someone comes knocking on the door because they heard you? Something tells me that look on your face would give us away no matter how we tried to explain ourselves.” 

He full on whimpers at that, sounding sad and deeply ashamed in at the implication of guilt. It’s clearly getting harder for him to maintain his usual cool the longer your hands are on him though, and you realize you’re going to have to do something to help him out. He was much too sensitive, too easily overwhelmed to roll the dice in this particular situation when getting caught together could mean the end of everything. 

Licking your lips, you momentarily consider choking him just enough to cut off his air supply and make it impossible for him to cry out. Your fingers idly flex around the bobbing curve of his throat at the thought. Although it’s certainly a tempting idea you ultimately think better of it, sliding your hand higher up to brush over his jaw instead. 

Finding Sunday’s mouth, you slide your palm over it and press down firmly to elicit a startled yet blissfully muffled sound from him. He jolts and lurches in your hold, as if only just now realizing the true scope of the danger he was in, but it’s much too late. 

Readjusting your hold on his cock in the other hand, you firmly drag your fist down and then back up, settling into a steady rhythm that continuously works the foreskin over his receptive glans. Back and forth, back and forth, up and down; rubbing, sliding, sticky slick clicking in your ears. And Sunday outright shrieks behind your fingers, twisting and tossing his head like a wild animal caught in a trap. His belt rattles softly where it’s spread open across his thighs, still twisted up in his pants, and his wings slap a furious beat that has you turning your face into his shoulder to avoid the full brunt of his ratcheting alarm. 

He’s hard to keep ahold of like this, especially when he digs his heels into the floor and tries to wrench himself free, but your physical strength proves greater. Despite being a man and in spite of having a few inches on you in height, he just isn’t equipped to fight you off. Not when you’ve got his cock in one hand, stroking it with the continuous glide of your palm over all of that sinfully smooth flesh, and the halfhearted way he shoves at your arms quickly morphs into desperate grabbing instead. 

Blindly, he latches onto you; your thighs where they bracket his shuddering hips, the bend of your arm, so he can squeeze tight and hold on for dear life. His muffled sounds of pleasure turn dazed and intoxicated as he rigidly slumps against you at last. And when he tips his head back to rest along your shoulder, tiny wings still fluttering helplessly but starting to weaken and droop, you dare to lift your face to look at him. 

Wrecked is the only word that immediately comes to mind. His usually perfectly styled hair is tousled and sweat damp where it sticks to his skin in a few places. Cheeks so hot with color you know he’d be warm to the touch. It’s the far-away glisten in his golden eyes, once so sharp and pointed, now distant and too heavy to keep fully open anymore, that really seals the deal though. Sunday’s higher functioning mind may still have been fighting against it but his body was singing like a deftly plucked chord while the violently crashing waves of pleasure slam into him with every slide of your fist. 

Feeling devious and a little too eager to stop yourself, you take advantage of his draining will to fight it and adjust your hand over his mouth so you can plunge two of the fingers inside. He squawks a decidedly undignified sound at the sudden intrusion but even his attempt to turn his head away is half hearted at best. Only somewhat reluctantly does he allow you to probe at his squirming tongue, feeling the perfect line of his teeth scrape over your knuckles when you reach back just far enough to make him gag. 

The compulsion is an odd one, you understand that much, but it’s as if your own pounding excitement won’t be satisfied until you’ve thoroughly torn down every one of his mile wide defenses. You needed to leave him debauched and utterly disillusioned from his old role, his previous identity, or this wasn’t going to accomplish what it was supposed to. How else could he be expected to move on and undertake the journey ahead of him if he was still clinging to his old ways and holding himself to the same standards as before? 

Sunday needed to see that despite his once high-minded ideals he was still just human, that his flesh and blood body was not some great sin for him to reject or punish. That he didn’t need to self sacrifice and martyr himself just for his life to have meaning. You wanted him to understand that it’s okay to be a little messy sometimes, and there’s nothing wrong with letting go of his almost fanatically held control. 

So it is with a great deal of pleasure that you keep his jaw wedged open with your fingers, carefully moving them back and forth over his tongue while he whimpers and whines so sweetly for you. It doesn’t take long for the excess of saliva to build up and dribble out at the corners of his lips, his spine dramatically flexing when he feels that first unseemly rivulet run down his jaw. His mouth works futilely around your digits, alternating between trying to spit them out or to somehow swallow around them but it doesn’t work. The drool just keeps coming, slowly bubbling out to track sticky paths down his face. 

You even catch a glimpse of shuddering moisture wetting his lash lines but you politely look away despite the eager jump in your pulse at the sight of those tears. It would have been all too easy for you to tease him for them, really lean into the humiliation he was probably feeling, but that was not your goal here. Not this time, at least. 

Instead you focus your attention back on the hand wrapped around his cock. Your ministrations had slowed to a stop while you were stuffing his mouth full and now you can see the length of him, flushed a pretty pink that almost matches his face, flexing needily against your hold. He was leaking enough precum to smooth the glide of your next upward stroke, watching in fascinated wonder as the fleshy hood of his foreskin comes up with another soft click to make the clear discharge slowly ooze down the sides of his shaft. 

His hips wildly buck and he wails a garbled noise as he needily arches up off the bed, jutting his pelvis out as if in desperate supplication for more. Both of his hands have latched onto your thighs now and he squeezes them tight enough to hurt. But you give him what he wants, what he so clearly needs, pumping your fist up and down the length of him on a steady, energetic rhythm. 

Sunday freezes like that, poised with his back bowed and his body flexed away from the mattress. Distantly, you realize that he seems to have stopped breathing altogether, holding the air in his aching lungs while the rest of him stiffly shudders and twitches steadily closer to the edge of oblivion. He was beautiful like this, like something out of a tawdry, lurid painting of some ethereal being from legend or myth. 

“Oh, Sunday,” You coo at him, so soft and gentle. Coaxing him ever towards his own ruination. “Are you going to cum for me?” 

Wailing a frazzled sound of distress around your spit soaked fingers, he gives his head the barest shake as if to deny the simple reality of what was happening. Unfortunately his own body betrays him almost instantly, and you stare in rapt fascination when his narrow hips stiffly lock up before nudging forward in a reluctant thrust. He’s holding himself far too unrelentingly to execute the full range of motion but it’s enough to have him fucking into your hand in painful, tortuously slow increments. 

He just can’t seem to help himself or smother the urge completely, even when the rolling grind of his pelvis was clearly something foreign to him. But it’s instinctive and hard coded, muscle memory carved into the very atoms of his body more than anything else. And you can see the musculature in his slim thighs trembling fiercely, the flex of his stomach dramatic while he wheezes and gasps his pleasure into the otherwise still air. You knew your fingers weren’t doing as sufficient a job at muffling him as your palm would have, but you can’t quite bring yourself to move or even care very much about that right now. 

Especially not when he gives one final, stuttering thrust into the squeeze of your hand and his cock positively erupts in a sudden spray of white. Creamy and thick, it shoots up into the air on what you would consider an impressive arc before splattering across his front. A second jet quickly follows the first, and then a third, while Sunday all but sobs through his orgasm, wetly choking on it even as he gradually sinks back down to the bed in a drained heap of splayed limbs. 

The eager pulse along his length quickly slows, oozing yet more of that clear discharge to dribble down the length of his shaft in sticky tracks before at last subsiding completely. He’s already a complete mess with various bodily fluids coating his skin but you still give him one final squeeze and drag your hand up to draw the last little bit of his release out of his flagging cock. He seethes a delirious sound in response, head lolling back in doped out bliss while he tries to even out his breathing again to no avail. 

“How was that?” You prod, smiling to yourself as you withdraw your fingers from his mouth. A sticky wad of saliva follows after you, catching on his bottom lip, and you brush your thumb up to helpfully wipe it away, ignoring the mirthless, gasping laugh he rattles out. “It looked like you enjoyed it to me. Was that really your first orgasm?”

Somewhat awkwardly clearing his no doubt dry and scratchy throat, Sunday pointedly turns his head to look elsewhere. Still shy and reticent to openly show any of his emotions, but he certainly felt more relaxed in your arms than he had before. “I wouldn’t have any reason to lie about that, would I? Or do you take me for some kind of shameless masochist?” 

Allowing a brief giggle to slip out, you lean further into him so you can find his neck and deliver a soft peck to the still thrumming pulse under his skin. Sucking in a deeply flustered inhale, he snaps his attention back around to look at you with wide, startled eyes. That makes you laugh too, much to his pouting confusion. 

“What?” He demands at last. 

“Nothing. I was just thinking how cute you really are, that’s all.” 

His brows shoot up almost too fast for you to track the motion. “Cute? M - me? But I don’t —“

“It’s alright, Sunday. Just go with the flow. You feel pretty good right now, don’t you?” Grinning at the uncertainty that flashes across his face, you lower your chin to rest against his shoulder, much like how you’d first started. Realistically only a few minutes had passed but it felt like an entire lifetime had come and gone, and yet you were still right back to this again. 

In the following silence while Sunday chews on that and mulls it over, you rove your attention down to inspect the damage you’d caused. Luckily his coat had been more or less out of the way where you’d spread it open earlier, and it looked like the quickly cooling evidence of this sneaky tryst had mostly landed in harmless flecks across the darker inner shirt underneath. That was a small relief, if you were being honest. You didn’t even want to think about all the fussing he’d do if you stained his white jacket like that. 

“Well,” he says at last, rousing you from your thoughts. “While I still think your methods are unscrupulous and incredibly underhanded … I suppose I still owe you my thanks. I do indeed feel more at ease than I did before. Now if you’ll excuse me —“ 

Quickly looping your arms around his middle when he makes a move to stand up, you yank him back against you with another laugh. “Nuh-uh. We’re not done yet, Sunny. I need to help you clean up that mess first.” 

Choking on a protest, he reaches down to shove at your arms but you don’t budge, pointedly nuzzling into him from behind as if to prove that he wasn’t going anywhere until you decided to let him go. After another brief moment of cursory struggle, he finally gives up and slumps against you with a terse click of his tongue. 

“Really, is this truly necessary?” He grumbles under his breath, lifting a hand to subconsciously wipe the remaining spit off his chin with an air of distaste. “Haven’t you gotten what you wanted out of me already? I'd think you would be satisfied by now, Miss Stellaron.” 

You hum a sly sound at that, coquettishly walking two of your fingers up the front of his shirt to one of the bigger globs of milky white bleeding into the material. He goes still against you, mouth dropping open in what could only be abject shock when you swipe one of the digits through the mess before lifting it up to your face. 

Looking appropriately scandalized now, Sunday tracks the motion with wide, horrified eyes. “Wh - what are you doing? That’s —“ 

Popping your cum coated fingertip into your mouth earns you a strangled gasp and he tries to reel back from you as if in disgust. But you keep your arm locked around his middle, holding him firmly in place while you suck the digit clean. Sunday’s wings flutter an anxious beat and tuck forward to curl defensively over the lower half of his face but it does very little to hide the furious blush staining his cheeks. He looked even more like a ripe cherry ready to be plucked than when you’d been holding his cock in your hand. 

“It’s nothing to be so embarrassed about.” You tell him candidly when you slide your finger out and reach back down to swipe it through the sticky fluid on his shirt again. “You don’t taste bad, if that’s what you’re thinking. I like how you feel in my mouth.” 

His eyes nervously darting from side to side, up and down, anywhere but directly at you, he tries to speak, croaks, and then awkwardly clears his throat again. “But - but that’s … unhygienic, isn’t it? That came out of my … my - -“ 

Softly laughing at how dangerously close he seems to fainting dead away like some sort of swooning maiden in an old movie, you catch a clinging glob of his spend and lift it up towards his face this time. “It’s fine, I promise. You taste good, Sunday. I wouldn’t lie to you. Here, try it for yourself?” 

He makes a face at that, reminding you of a kid that doesn’t want to take his medicine, but at your gentle prodding he slowly lowers his wings. The drooping feathers brush against your curled fingers just so, almost making you tremble at their light touch as you watch him differentially drop his gaze. Submissive and pliable, a clear sign of his bending to your will. 

Your earlier arousal flares back to life with a vengeance, making you feel uncomfortably warm and damp between the legs. Holding the air in your lungs, you nudge your hand closer and he obediently parts his lips for you with a tiny, shuddering whimper. Eyes slipping shut when you slide into his mouth again so you can drag your fingertip across his tongue and smear the salty discharge, making sure he got a good taste of it, he issues a faltering breath that puffs against your knuckles. 

“See? Not so terrible, is it?” You murmur, your voice drawling at a lower octave than usual. Watching him come to terms with his own body was almost as distracting as the need pulsing in your loins, demanding attention and relief in equal measure. You wanted him. More of him. All of him. 

But would he have you? 

Groaning a threadbare little sound, Sunday flutters his lashes and cautiously opens them to peer over at you. For a drawn out moment the two of you just stare at one another, gazes locked and searching. Questioning. Begging. 

And then, ever so sweetly, he closes his mouth and gives your finger an experimental suck, swallowing down the evidence of your illicit activities. A stuttering exhale escapes him as you slowly withdraw your hand, giving him just enough space to breathe for a second. You wanted him to decide for himself how he wanted to proceed, what his next move should be. 

Because what you’d said earlier was the truth. You were not his jailer, nor were you going to willingly facilitate that self flagellating streak of his either. If he wanted to come to you it would be in mutual pleasure and enjoyment, as equals with a vested interest in each other's happiness. Not as punishment or penance for something you’d already decided to forgive him for. 

“M - Miss Stellaron, I …” 

The way his wings start to shyly curl inward again, wanting to hide behind them, brings another smile to your face. He really was too cute like this. “What is it, Sunny?” 

He sucks in a mildly bothered breath at that. “I told you not to — never mind. It doesn’t really matter, I suppose. And you were right. It wasn’t terrible. In all honesty, nothing you’ve done today was … entirely disagreeable in my eyes. So if you’d like to … I mean, if it pleases you we could …”

“Keep going?” You helpfully offer up, making his expression pinch in obvious embarrassment. 

“W - well, should you insist I … I guess I wouldn’t have any complaints about that. But only if you want to. I don’t care either way.” 

“Sure you don’t.” Practically grinning from ear to ear now, you place your hand against his shoulder and push to get him turned around. He still refuses to look directly at you, evidently finding the pattern on your bedspread far more interesting in that moment, but he doesn’t change his mind or try to pull away when you lean into him. 

Tipping your head so you can dip into the space between his nervously fluttering wings, you find Sunday’s mouth and kiss him. Tentatively at first to see how he’ll react, but when all he does is whimper a flustered sound against your lips you press harder, letting your hunger for him dictate your actions. His hands carefully come up to slide around your neck while his wings slowly fall open, letting you in as he holds you against him, and you feel like you just might burst. 

To be wanted by someone like him felt like a blessing and a curse all wrapped up in one. By initiating this had you only sped up his ruination from perfect and holy to mere mortal, or had you just engineered your own downfall in the same breath? 

You’d find out soon enough.

⭐

Cross posted: here

[shysuccubusstuff]

Xavier meeting the real you pt. 1:

Summary: So what if Xavier finally met the real you?

Note: Lately, I've seen several tiktoks of people talking about how the men of L&DS wouldn't look their way if they were actually real... WHICH I DISAGREE. Happy Valentines day by the way, I've been so busy and uni has barely started...

Xavier:

Xavier, who just as he is about to finish killing the last Wanderer gets swallowed by a strange portal, the light at the end blinding him for a few seconds. As he slowly got used to the new source of light, he soon noticed something. The place he had appeared was definitely not the place he had known before. Slowly, he got up, his legs almost giving up as he slowly looked out the window at the room, the few things that he was able to see were much different from what he had seen before. The buildings were much shorter, even if the cars and people that he was able to see were similar to the ones he had grown accustomed to see. Finally, he turned around, seeing you in your bed. Your face was completely flushed, trying your best to accommodate the few strands of hair that were falling in your hair while you used your other hand to try and hide your (slightly) shameful pyjamas from him. Your mouth had become completely dry, your phone still in your hand as you tried to stop yourself from screaming at the top of your lungs.

"... Where am I?" Xavier finally spoke, his hands still wrapped around his sword, his hunter uniform torn in a few places. "Who are you?" His voice sounded strangely familiar, almost as if you were listening to the first chapters of the story you loved so much.

"I... What in the...?" You slowly looked towards the screen, noticing how the game had suddenly crashed, a strange screen freezing the game just before you finished the stage. "I... I don't know, I really don't know, I was... I was doing my... and suddenly you were... you were here! With your... your sword, and your-- your uniform, and that... that shiny grey hair-- Anyways! I really have no clue how you-- you moved out." You kept trying to get the game to restart, opening and closing the game as an attempt to maybe... get an error and reset everything? At the same time, you kept pinching yourself, how could you evnen imagine having THE Xavier, the pretty boy next door in your own room in the middle of the night? Xavier slowly blinked, almost as if he had started to comprehend the situation he was in.

"I suppose this must be some kind of... effect of the protocore field. Since my phone doesn't even work, I suppose I will try to find somewhere to stay for now, I'm sure I will be able to find somewhere nearby." Just as Xavier was about to leave your room, you grabed him by his gloved hand, your body moving towards him as if you were the one inside the game.

"Wait! I think you should stay, I doubt your phone even works here, how am I supposed to find you? I can let you stay here, my room is fine-- Or maybe the sofa? I don't really know which one you prefer." Xavier stood confused for a second, finally deciding that your idea was the most plausible one, deciding to accept, apologising for the inconvenience as he finally hid his sword. "You should take a bath, I can try to search for some clothes that could fix you? I'll get to it, the bathroom is next to the--Oh right, you have no idea, I will show you the apartment" You quickly got up, ignoring the stupid pajama you had decided to wear that night since it was the confiest, after all, who would see you like that?...

Anyways, you moved around your small flat with Xavier following you behind, his face making small expressions each time you showed him something that he had never seen before. As soon as you finished showing him, you left him in the living room, almost running to your room to search around your wardrobe, finally being able to see some oversized clothes you had bought a few weeks ago. As soon as you gave them to him, he thanked you, making his way towards the bathroom. That was when you finally noticed something, the uniform had been torned, with a few of them even reaching his skin, the bleeding had already stopped, but the wound was still there. "If... If you don't mind, I would like to heal your wounds, I think they can get infected because of the battle." Xavier's eyes fixed on you, almost being able to tell what he was thinking just from the slight change on his gaze.

"That's fine, I will let you know when I'm done." With that finally set and done, the two of you moved to where you had to, with you still trying your best to understand just what the hell had happened with the game. A few minutes after, Xavier called out to you, making you get up from your bed so you could take the kit, rushing to where Xavier was. Shortly after entering the living room, you noticed something, Xavier was sitting on the sofa, his whole chest being unclothed as a few drops of water still fell from his hair. You swallowed, trying your best to avoid screeching as if you were some kind of animal in heat. After all, you would have been completely allowed to do so in your room, still, you clenched your fist, taking a deep breath as you sat down in the sofa, silently, you opened the kit, taking out the hydrogen peroxide and starting to disinfect the numerous wounds that were covering his arms and chest. You were confused, your mind rushing as you tried to find a reason why would Xavier do something like that for someone like Xavier to be able to undress himself like that.

"I'm sorry for annoying you once more." Xavier kept quite for a few minutes, the silence only being broken each time he let out a low hiss when the sting became too much. "This must be uncomfortable. After all, we met just a few minutes ago, I know this sounds crazy, but you remind me of... a certain someone." Xavier smiled softly, making your heart ache a bit as you realised that his memories were still filled with memories of the fictional "you". You hurried your hands, trying your best to not feel your heart slowly break as you kept reminding yourself of just how different you were from the you in game. Despite your poor attempt, Xavier was able to notice the change in your demeanor, his eyes drifting to your face as he saw you. "I did not mean that in a wrong way, I'm sorry if that was rude." Xavier clenched his hands, his expression changing to one of concern. "I... I'm just worried, I left her there, in the protofield, she's more than capable of fighting alone, I know that--" You were finally done with the small treatment, closing the kit as Xavier kept talking about the charming you he had fallen in love with.

"It's normal that you're worried about her, she's... your lover I assume." Xavier's face reddened for a moment, making him almost choke on the glass of water you had brought to him. At the same time, he looked confused, how was it possible for someone that seemed to be from a completely different universe to know so much about his reality? Still, he smiled with kindness, taking the sweater you had given to him as soon as you were done. "I will take my leave, you can sleep here, I left a few blankets, let's talk tomorrow. Rest well." You rushed to your room with the kit still in your hands. You left it in your desk, your eyes starting to get a bit wet because of the heartache you felt. You knew it didn't make sense, but how could you not react like that after you had finally meet the person you considered to be the love of your life? (At least if he had been actually real...). Confused by the past hour events, you threw yourself to your bed, trying your best to fall asleep without the soft voice of that sweet silver haired boy.

[little-miss-alone-n-in-love]

Stiles and his best friend's sister, as per the request of @trashyangelic! Thank you, my dear 💜. Also, I did not reread this or edit it at all so... Have fun with any and all mistakes because I pulled this straight out of my ass.

So. Imagine that it's Mr. Stilinski's day off and he's home all day, but thankfully, Scott is working at the shelter and Ms. McCall is working at the hospital. This is prime time for the two horny rascals.

Speaking of horny, they are the most desperate teenagers ever, especially because they have to act normal in front of Scott and everyone else. So, when they're finally alone, their clothes come off almost immediately.

They share needy kisses, and Stiles leads because he has absolutely no self-control whatsoever. Forget about breathing, he will die a happy man against her addictive body. He practically throws her onto her bed and jumps on top of her, needing to touch, kiss, and lick every inch of her. The whimper and moans coming from her only motivate him more.

He mumbles words of praise to her as he moves down her body, treating her like the deity she is.

"Fuck, you're so gorgeous. Look at you."

"I want you so bad. I always want you. You make standing next to you so hard... And me. You make me so hard too."

"You're fucking perfect, you know that? The world doesn't deserve you. I should just keep you all to myself. You want that? You want me to keep you locked up in my room forever? No one will ever know... I'll hide you so well. No one will think to look in the Sheriff's own house."

He eats her out like a starving man and fucks her like it's his last day. They both lose their ability to think properly thanks to the utter bliss they're diving into as Stiles' dick plunges over and over again. They moan uncontrollably because, well, that's just the effect they have on each other.

There's something about breaking the "rules" Scott thinks he set and taking an exciting risk that intensifies the pleasure they're feeling. Neither of them can control their release, but that doesn't matter since they go again after just a couple of minutes. Sure, they might be a little sensitive, but that doesn't stop them. Why would it?

By the fourth round (I know, teenagers smh), the pair are shaking and Stiles' girl is practically screaming his name.

They inevitably reach their limit, collapsing onto her sheets and chasing lungfuls of air. Apparently, calming down from a workout like that takes effort. She's secretly looking forward to his magical aftercare, but unfortunately, that doesn't happen.

Fucking Scott gets off work early and comes home way before they were expecting him to, making their eyes widen in panic. Stiles nearly face-plants as he stumbles down from her bed to grab his and her clothes that are still in the hallway.

Somehow they manage to quietly get dressed before Scott gets upstairs. When he enters his sister's room, he finds the two of them "studying" (the cum is definitely hiding underneath her comforter). He's about to ask Stiles when he got here, but he catches a certain scent and his eyebrows furrow.

"Stiles, can I talk to you in the hall for a second?"

His heart begins to race, which Scott picks up on too, but he nods and awkwardly walks out into the hall with his buddy. "What's up?"

"Why does it smell like... you know... in my sister's room!?" he whispers harshly.

"Wha- I don't know! Maybe she, uh, you know, t-touched... herself. Like, before I came here. Maybe?"

Scott is utterly disgusted by Stiles' cover-up. "Ugh! Gross! Don't say that about my sister, you perv!"

"Sorry! Sorry! I'm just saying..."

"You know what? Just forget I said anything. Ugh... You got issues, man."

"Yeah, yeah, I know..." he yields. Stiles nibbles on his lower lip as he watches Scott walk away to his own room before pumping his fist into the air in success, barely saving his own ass.

So. Secretly dating and fucking your best friend's sister is a lot harder and stressful than people think it is...

[alitteraladhdmess]

Y’all I was out with my sister today and was looking up “How soon after death does blood flow stop?” And she started giving my weird looks 😭

I promis it’s just cuz I’m an author

Nothing serious I swear

[ddejavvu]

Could you do a criminal minds x reader where reader is viewed as super sweet and dresses brighter and stuff like Penelope but one day they have to come in like super late/by surprise so everyone is in their normal clothes and the bau sees that reader has a big ass, super cool tattoo? And they’re all surprised and stuff

You're looking less-than professional in your backless halter top when you take your seat at the round table, but no one bats an eye until you stand from the chair to leave. Hotch's call of 'Wheels up in 20' means that the room clears as everyone hunts for their gobags, and the second you turn your back to your coworkers a litany of reactions fill the space.

Of course, the most dramatic is from Garcia, but you hear enough to count all of your coworkers, except one. Hotch's brows are raised when you turn back to see them, though - apparently he's not above being startled.

"Woah, hot stuff," Prentiss calls, a grin spreading over her face, "You've got some nice ink back there!"

"I didn't know you had tattoos," JJ muses, staring at you with curious amusement like she's recalculating your image in her mind, "That's really intricate. I like it."

"Oh, it's-" You reach a hand up to stroke awkwardly over the inked skin, "I kind of forgot you'd never seen it before."

"Turn around again!" Garcia gushes, "I wanna look at it."

You spin on command, and Hotch and Rossi are kind enough not to gawp with the others, passing you on their way to the door.

"You've got guts, kid," Rossi grimaces, "I've been in a lot of pain before, but I don't know if I'd willingly sit there for all of that."

"I wouldn't," Hotch shakes his head with a good-natured smile, "Haley and I got small, matching ones in college, and I had a hard time with that one."

"Is that based off of Norse mythology?" Spencer pokes his head around your shoulder to stare bright-eyed at you, "Some of the symbols remind me of-"

"It's just a sick-ass tattoo, Reid." Morgan shoves at his shoulder. peering avidly at the art, "Don't ruin this for everyone."

Reid takes the shove like a champion, smiling kindly, albeit awkwardly at you as he moves for the door himself, "I like it."

"Thanks, Reid," You call, flinching slightly as a hand traces one of the symbols on your back.

"Ooh! Sorry, pumpkin," Garcia calls, the hand drawn away in a flash, "I got too grabby. I just think it's really cool," she takes your hand, leading you towards the door while the others follow to continue staring at your tattoo, "I'd show you my own body art, but it's not really in a spot that I can display in the workplace."

"Well this I've gotta see," Morgan teases, "Let's all huddle in the bathroom on the jet, babygirl, and see what you're hiding."

"It is not for your eyes, Derek Morgan," She huffs, though she's grinning at his attempt. The look in her eyes suggests that the tattoo is not for his eyes because it's something to do with him, and you're eager to giggle over whatever part of her body she's tatted 'babygirl' over later.

For now, though, you rifle through your gobag and shrug on a cardigan, effectively covering your back and its ink.

"It is a crying shame to cover up that artwork," Prentiss laments, "I bet it looks awesome peeking over tank tops."

"You'll see it again at the hotel," You laugh, "I have plans to use the jacuzzi before we leave."

"A jacuzzi sounds fantastic," JJ sighs, "But let's all of us agree that Morgan isn't invited - I wanna see Garcia's tattoo."

[cute-sucker]

can’t stop thinking abt s1 rafe x shy!pogue!reader where he’s so mean to her but she has the fattest crush on him 😢😢

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ YOUR CRUSH ON RAFE CAMERON WAS ALMOST DEGRADING. it was exciting for him because it made him wonder how much he could push you. how much he could push you, and you'd still look at him with those adoring eyes of yours. how long you would offer up your body, innocent with your pouty lips.

it didn't matter if rafe dismissed you, or if he acted as if you didn't exist—you stayed there, trailing after him like a lost puppy. he liked it too, the thought that no matter what he did, you would still be there.

really, it was sickening how much you liked rafe. he'd push you away, cold mask on his face, the words, 'dirty pogue,' already on his lips—yet you would come back to him. with your soft words, and little gifts. sometimes you left him a small snack, a glittery pink pen etching your initials. sometimes he'd try not to notice the way you'd always be hopeful during parties with your tiny clothes, almost ready to talk to him.

see, he was nice to girls. how could he not be? but you. you defined every rule in the book. you were way to nice, you were a pogue, and lastly, there was the persistence. you wanted a boyfriend, not a hookup. but you were testing every limit he had with your presence.

he could barely control himself with you around, groaning softly when he saw you coming his way. there was a meekness to you, almost as if you were surprised you were even talking to him.  

"rafe?" you'd call, and when he turned around. of course, you were already blushing, pursing your lips to hide your smile, "um...would you mind signing this?"

rafe looked at you again, licking his lips before regarding your pleading look, "yea, why not. what's it for?" then he looked down at you, holding eye contact for a little longer than usual. quickly you got flustered, blinking down as you tried to hold eye contact back.

"uh—it's just for something."

"something? tryna be mysterious and shit?"

"oh no rafe! i—"

finally, he snapped, "alright listen. i know you like me, but uh, i don't do that girlfriend or boyfriend bullshit. especially not with a pogue," he drawled as he gave you a once over, before giving you slight look, "now, either we hook up or nothing."

you gulped, shocked at his outburst, but you couldn't help but pout. wasn't this what you wanted? all dressed up in your cute jumpsuit, all dolled up for him. so he could look at you, so he could appreciate you. at this point all you just wanted was him. but you couldn't give yourself up that quickly. all the blood rushed up to your head, and you knew you were blushing. hard.

"i don't know what you're talking about!" you blubbered, taking a step away from rafe. he laughed, cocking his head.

"oh shittt, don't give me those pretty eyes and tell me you don't want to fuck me?"

suddenly you bit your lip, feeling shy. this was the most you had ever said to him. of course it had to go this way. so you did what every normal person did; murmur something softly that was hard to pick up. but rafe was rafe, he perked up, eyes full of glee. as if he was enjoying your torment.

"c'mon doll, spit it out."

"i..."

"yeah? do i need to draw it out of you?" he whispered, stepping closer to you. your lashes fluttered, feeling like a deer in headlights. now or never. heat went through your body before you looked back up at him. you blinked slowly, a shy look on your face, taking a deep breath.  

"i...i do."

with his tongue tucked in his cheek, rafe leaned back, and signed the paper radiating smug satisfaction, "good. good. now that's settled, lemme finish something here before we get to that."

then rafe gave you a once over as if he knew the effect he had on you, before rising to leave, "see you tonight."

[reidrum]

porcelain doll | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

a/n: writers block is a bitch fr but somehow this came out! i just wanna say that if you relate to reader or just have qualms in general about intercourse that its okay and its normal and you're still a wonderful human being at the end of the day ok that is all i love you mwah

cw: smut 18+ minors dni, fingering, making out, no p in v sex but talks about it, reader has an ambiguous reason for it hurting cuz there are like so many gdm reasons it can hurt it's ridiculous, hurt/comfort, fluff, afab reader, spencer is a loving and supportive boyfriend, i proofread this once sorry

summary: you'd been keeping quiet about something personal that you knew you should tell spencer but just couldn't find the right time for, but now it's all come to a head in a hot heat of the moment and you're forced to confront it

wc: 2.6k

_______________________________________________

you meant to tell spencer about it when you first started dating.

it’s not something that comes up to discuss in a natural context, like over coffee or at work. by the time you and spencer had actually started dating, you hoped there would be a quiet moment where you could tell him, but even when soft moments came and went your anxiety was the ruling emotion and prevented you from telling him.

that brings you to this moment right now— you straddled over spencer’s lap on his couch with your arms around his neck, his on your waist, wildly kissing him. you had just come home from the bar with the girls, and spencer couldn’t help himself with how pretty you looked as he pulled you to the couch and perched you on his lap.

still being in the somewhat early stages of your relationship, your intimacy with him never went past making out, with you most of the time tapping out after getting too overwhelmed. and spencer always respected your boundaries.

don’t get it wrong, you both still had a lot of fun when things got heated. if you could kiss him every second of the day you would. but being able to feel how much fun he was having always left a pang of guilt in your heart after always stopping. he’d always be heavily panting, trying so hard to hide the discomfort in his pants, and the most you could do in return was dissociate and live in false ignorance about it. it didn’t help that he still so devastatingly kind to you after.

but here you were on his couch tonight, and something felt different. a desire you hadn’t felt before taking over your senses as your bodies intertwined. it’s like every time you’re with him, he makes you almost forget all the insecurities that eat away at you.

almost.

spencer moves his mouth down your neck, leaving a trail of hot love bites before he finds your sweet spot. you angle your head more so he can get better access, and moan out at how fucking good it feels.

he moves his hand to the waist of your shorts, looks up at you silently asking for permission to remove them. you nod and he maneuvers them off, returning to straddle him. his hands move to knead the flesh where your hips meet your thighs, every movement delicate and intentional. it’s like with every touch he transfers his love for you through his fingertips to drive you absolutely crazy.

you subconsciously grind down on him, putting a pressure he wasn’t expecting as he groans lowly in your ear, “fu-uck.” it warms your heart a little, knowing the effect you have on him. your hands tangle in hair and pull firmly letting spencer moan into your mouth as he moves a hand further down your body.

“this okay still?” he breathlessly asks as he toys with the lining of your panties.

you nod again, not trusting your words at the moment. a sinking feeling starts to brew in your gut, as you can easily predict where the next events are going. he’s being so kind to you, and you feel sexy with the way he’s eating you alive with his eyes and touches. the guilt would chip you away if you had led him on this long only to stop right before the good part, just because you couldn’t handle it or something.

but he starts to stroke you outside your panties, and you have to admit that it feels vaguely good. you continue to bury your head in the crook of his neck in the hopes of masquerading any facial expressions contradictory to your words. you just want spencer to feel good, and this is the first step to reaching that goal.

spencer takes the soft breaths blowing in his ear as a sign to keep going, and hooks a finger on the cloth to pull it aside. he runs a single digit up and down your slit, swiping by your entrance to gather the wetness to spread around. when he circles back to give your clit attention you shakily moan out his name and his arm grips you tighter around your waist. you feel his finger descend again and prods around for the entrance again before gently sliding in.

the last five minutes you had been praying repeatedly and silently in your head, please let it be different this time, please don’t let me ruin this perfectly great relationship, please let my body just do what it’s meant to do.

but your prayers are left unheard, and all you can feel is hot, burning pain.

it tears through you, a feeling incomparable to walking on fire rocks even. it’s overwhelming, all consuming, things you would typically describe a normal sexual experience but here your body was, in a cruel twist of fate by being on the complete opposite end of that spectrum.

most of all, it just fucking hurts. point blank, you don’t see it subsiding anytime soon. you hoped the sentiment of making this good for spencer would overtake the signals being sent to your pain receptors. but it doesn’t, it actually intensifies the emotional pain in your heart that you know will weigh on you once this is over.

spencer being the darling lover he is holding you so gently, and yet instead your body betrays his gentle loving touches and receives them with malice. 

how dare you?

after a couple minutes, you can’t take it anymore. the panic starts to rise in your chest— from the pain, the guilt, all crashing down like an avalanche preparing to leave you stranded in the rubble.

“spencer…” you grit out.

“yeah baby?” he hums.

“can we-, i think i need to…” you strain. the pain is spreading throughout your body like a forest fire, uncontainable and devastating.

spencer slows his ministrations and pulls back a little, noticing the faint red rings forming in your eyes from the unshed tears, “hey, what’s wrong?” he pulls out his finger complete, subtly wiping it on his pants (which you’ll gawk at later because, who is this man?). even after the removal it’s left you scorned, and you feel it breaking your resolve fast.

“are you okay?” spencer tries to peer into your eyes again, voice laced with worry and dread.

you open your mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. you’re in shock, you think. and you’re feeling a lot of emotions, too many emotions all huddled up in your head begging for control.

spencer sits still below you deeply concerned and confused, “sweetheart, what’s going on?” he desperately tries one more time.

you think your brain has finally settled on what to feel.

mortification.

you squeeze your eyes shut, harshly rubbing them with sweaty hands, “i’m okay, i’ll be right back.” and you don’t give him time to rebuttal as you swing off him and bolt to the bathroom in record speed. after you shut the door and lock it, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. and then everything else falls out too.

your arms clutch your stomach in distress as the panic settles in you, sliding down the wall as you sit on the floor with your knees tucked under your chin. tears blur your vision, and the deep breaths are counterintuitive as they seem to make you more and more lightheaded.

a faint knocking seems to cast a line to bring you back down, and another firmer knock solidifying it.

spencer softly says your name, “can we talk? i just want to know that you’re okay.”

a pang of guilty shoots up your heart and you let out a big sniffle inadvertently, and spencer finds an unknowingly matching pang shooting up his own heart.

“i’m sorry if i hurt you, sweetheart.”

that was the final blow, and you fully begin to sob on the bathroom floor. how selfish of a person were you to let him feel guilty for something that was entirely your fault?

“you didn’t do anything,” you say between cries, “i’m just, being weird.”

spencer isn’t convinced, “will you let me in?” he says softly.

you contemplate the outcomes. he comes in, you tell him about your irregularity, he gets upset with you for not telling him and because you don’t work. or you don’t let him in, he gets upset with you and your stubbornness, deciding it’s no longer worth it to deal with you and he leaves.

solid choices, you think.

swiping at the tears falling still, you think you can’t feel any lower than you do right now. so you reach up and unlock the door but don’t move to open it.

he hears the click of the lock turning and knows he has to open the door. the handle turns and spencer pokes his head through, “i’m coming in, okay?”

you don’t respond, your head still finding solace in your bunched up knees. you faintly hear the door creak open and a figure move in.

if spencer’s heart wasn’t clenching before, someone’s now got it in a death grip with how distraught you look is making him feel. he doesn’t enter your bubble, he doesn’t feel it’s appropriate at the moment. instead he sits in the open doorway, hoping it offers you a comfortable space to know that he’s there but not enough to overwhelm you.

you both sit in silence for what feels like forever, spencer knows it’s ten minutes and thirty two seconds, when you let out the smallest and faintest, “i’m sorry.”

“you didn’t do anything,” he immediately says, itching to move closer to you, “i just want to know what happened, angel.”

your eyes scrunch up in frustration, “ugh, it’s not-“ you falter, this was not how you pictured this conversation going.

he waits for you to continue. “i have this…thing.” you start.

“thing..?”

why does it feel so embarrassing to say out loud, he has three phds and hunts serial killers this cannot be the worst thing he’s heard.

it’s definitely the most vulnerable though.

you turn your body 180 degrees so you’re not facing him, thinking it would be easier to confess to him if he’s not staring you down, “when i like, put things down there… it hurts.”

“what kind of hurt?”

“it’s like a…really intense pain. that doesn’t go away.”

spencer ponders for a couple seconds, “is that what happened a couple minutes ago?”

you nod your head into your knees, letting the fresh hot tears wet your kneecaps. it’s humiliating.

he inches closer, “angel, did you think i was going to be mad?”

you sniffle, “are you not?”

a tentative hand rests on your back, “not at all,” he whispers, “i was just really worried about you.”

worried. people have been angry, apathetic, even sad (for themselves) when you told them. but never worried.

you suppose spencer reid has always been different, defying any preconceptions anyone previous had imposed on you. he always offered you kindness and love when you couldn’t find any for yourself. it was unfair, how much he loved you, and how you couldn’t show him how much you loved him back.

you clear your throat, “it just makes me feel…broken? to not be able to do the one thing my body is made to do. in the past it’s been a dealbreaker for a lot of people, and understandably so.”

spencer has moved to sit in front of you, inches away. he reaches a hand up to push a tendril of hair behind your ear, letting his palm rest upon your jaw. his eyes hold nothing but love, and he waits patiently for you to continue.

“i’m really sorry i didn’t say anything, i meant to tell you when we first started dating,” your voice gets higher as the emotion floods your throat, “but everything was going so good, i didn’t want to ruin it.”

you add one final blow before receding, “i thought when i told you, i would offer you an out to go sleep with some other girl just so you could have that experience.” you lament.

spencer lets your words sit in the air for a few moments before softly saying, “can i hold you?” 

he thinks it’s better to have you in his arms before he talks, because as much as his words could comfort you he thinks it can’t hurt for you to feel physically held together after all that’s torn you down.

if he wasn’t watching you so intently he would’ve missed the faint nod you give him. you’re scooped into his embrace with your head tucked under his chin and into his neck. he has one hand supporting your back and the other drawing letters into your thighs, and leans his chin to rest atop your head.

“first of all, please don’t ever feel like you have to ‘offer me an out’, especially for things that are really serious like this.”

“but it’s not fai-“ you try to argue.

“no. you can’t do that. you won’t do that. i don’t care what you’ve been told in the past, but loving and having you means holding every part of you, especially the ones you try to hide. i am not here to pick and choose what i want.”

he holds you the way you would a porcelain doll, achingly beautiful yet terrifyingly fragile.

“my sweet girl, you are not broken. i promise. penetration is not the end all for sex, and it’s not the only way to have sex. studies show that 75% of women feel pain during penetration, sometimes it can be related to stress or anxiety, which i’m sure on top of all that you deal with, that me leaving for cases all the time can’t help.”

he cups your cheek with his warm palm and angles your face to meet his eyes.

“what matters to me the most is that you feel good, and if you don’t feel good then it’s not worth doing in the first place.” he whispers, “if this is something you want to work on in the future, i will be there to help and support you however i can. but if you don’t want to do anything, i will still be there to support you. always. there is no dealbreaker for me, you are it.”

with red stained eyes you look up at him, “are you sure?”

“i’m sure,” he reinforces, “i love you. i don’t think a version of me exists where i am not loving you. you occupy an embarrassingly large amount of my brain, and there’s a lot of stuff in there.” you giggle and spencer feels flowers blooming in his chest.

you sigh and wrap your arms tighter around him, “i love you too, spence.”

you both sit in silence, basking in each others presence.

“you looked so beautiful tonight, i don’t think i told you when you came home.” he softly speaks, stroking your hair.

fiddling with a button on his shirt you reply, “thank you, honey. penny told me to buy that dress, said it’d drive you insane.”

he breathes out, “she was right. i don’t even know if i said anything to you, i was borderline delirious seeing you come home to me.”

you lean up to place a smiley kiss on his neck, “i’ll always come home to you, for as long as you’ll have me.”

“i think i’ll be having you forever.”

“woah,” you smirk, “that sounds borderline stalkerish. better be careful, my boyfriend’s an fbi agent.” 

spencer’s eyes narrow, “i could probably take him.”

“eh.”

“eh?”

[rafayelxsylusho]

How do the LADS men fu¢k the jealousy out of you.

Xavier/Rafayel

Already working on Caleb/Zayne/Sylus

TW: SMUT SMUT AND MORE SMUT.

Xavier 🌟🌟

The training session had been grueling, as all of all of your sessions tended to be. You pushed the new recruits hard, demanding perfection in every drill and exercise. They needed to be in peak form to face the horrors that awaited them out there in the No-Hunt Zones, battling the vicious creatures known as Wanderers.

The training session had wrapped up, and Xavier was wiping sweat from his brow with a towel, his chest heaving slightly from exertion. That's when you noticed the gaggle of giggling girls from his team hovering nearby, all batting their eyelashes at him and whispering to each other.

Typical. You could practically see the hearts floating above their heads as they fawned over their fearless leader. It was always the same - his reputation as the most successful Hunter in Linkon City tended to have that effect on people. Especially the young, impressionable rookie girls fresh out of training.

As you watched the scene unfold, a flicker of annoyance flashed across your face. The way they kept asking question after question, giggling at every word that fell from Xavier's lips, was starting to get on your nerves.

Don't they have anything better to do than hang around him like a pack of lovestruck puppies? you thought to yourself, feeling a twinge of possessiveness. This was hardly the first time you'd witnessed such a display, but it was no less grating.

Shaking your head, you decided to head to the locker room and get cleaned up after the long day of training. As you walked away, you couldn't help but overhear snippets of their conversation:

"...did you really kill 70,000 Wanderers all by yourself?" a blonde girl gushed.

"And with a sword, no less! I can't believe you wield it with such skill and precision," another chimed in.

You turned on the shower, letting the hot water cascade over your body as you tried to wash away the irritation. But even as you stood there, the image of them hanging off Xavier kept flashing through your mind.

Little did you know, the seeds of jealousy planted by their behavior would only grow more tangled and thorny as the day went on.

As you stepped out of the shower and started dressing you overheard two of the girls from Xavier's team. They were huddled together, whispering and giggling, clearly gossiping about their beloved leader. You froze, not wanting them to know you were within earshot, as they continued their hushed conversation.

"I swear, I've seen him around the headquarters a bunch of times, but he's never mentioned anyone special," the first girl said, her voice dripping with a mix of curiosity and envy. "Maybe he's just too focused on hunting to settle down with anyone."

"I don't know, Sarah. A guy like that? I bet he has girls throwing themselves at him all the time," the second girl, whose name you didn't catch, speculated. "Did you see the way some of the new recruits were fawning over him today? I'm surprised he can even walk with all that ego inflating!"

Just then, the second girl's eyes widened. "Oh my god, what if... what if he's actually gay? That would explain why he's never been spotted with anyone."

Sarah scoffed. "No way. I've seen the way he looks at y/n. Trust me, he's into girls... and I don't think he's the type to hide it if he was seeing someone."

"Well, if he's not taken, then maybe one of us should make a move. I mean, he's just so... captivating. Those piercing blue eyes, that chiseled jaw, that amazing body..." She sighed dreamily.

Her friend nodded eagerly, a similar starstruck look on her face. "I know, right? And he's so brave and skilled too. He's like, the total package."

Sarah giggled conspiratorially. "So what do you say, Lisa? Should we have a little competition to see who can get his attention first? Loser buys the winner dinner at that fancy new restaurant downtown?"

Lisa licked her lips, a determined glint in her eye. "You're on, Sarah. But I warn you - I play to win. That hottie is mine!"

You slam the door of your locker hard enough to make the metal clang and rattle. The room fell silent for a moment before the whispers restarted, more subdued this time.

As you exited the locker room, you couldn't shake the feeling that their stupid gossip had only added to the growing uneasiness you felt about Xavier's apparent single status.

Why hasn't he mentioned me? Does he not want people to know about us? Or is he just so used to women throwing themselves at him that he doesn't think he needs to bother? you wondered, your mind racing with increasingly paranoid thoughts

As you stepped out of the locker room, you were greeted by the sight of Xavier leaning casually against the wall across the hall, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked up as you approached, a warm smile spreading across his handsome face.

"Hey there," he greeted you, pushing off from the wall and falling into step beside you as you made your way out of the Hunters Association headquarters. "I was starting to think you might have snuck out the back way to avoid me." He chuckled, playfully nudging your shoulder with his own.

As you walked together, you couldn't shake the lingering irritation from overhearing the other girls' conversation in the locker room. You knew it was silly to be jealous, but you couldn't help feeling a flare of possessiveness at the thought of anyone else trying to stake a claim on Xavier.

As the two of you walked hand in hand towards your apartment building, you decided to bring up the elephant in the room. Glancing up at Xavier, you asked him about his thoughts on the day's training session with his team.

"How was the training with your team today? How did it go?" you inquired, genuinely interested in his take on the day's events.

Xavier was quiet for a moment, considering his response. "It went well, actually. There were a couple of new girls who really stood out, to be honest. They were strong, quick learners, and seemed to have a real knack for the techniques I was teaching."

"Do you think they have a real shot at making it as Hunters?" you asked, genuinely curious what Xavier thought of their potential.

He was silent for a long moment, considering his next words carefully. "Hard to say. They have the physical capability, but being a successful Hunter takes so much more than just brawn. It requires heart, determination, and a deep commitment to protecting others. We'll see how they hold up under pressure in the long run."

Without really thinking about it, you let go of his hand, feeling the need to put some distance between the two of you.

"I think I'm going to sleep early tonight," you announced abruptly, hoping to cut the conversation short before your jealousy got the better of you. "I'm feeling really tired after today."

Xavier looked down at you, a flicker of concern in his blue eyes as he sensed the sudden shift in your mood. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, reaching out to gently squeeze your shoulder. "You've been quiet since we left the headquarters. Did something happen that I should know about?"

He paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully. "Look, I know today was a long day, but I was thinking... what if we stopped by that little hotpot place on our way home? We could share a meal and unwind a bit before calling it a night. My treat, of course."

Xavier smiled at you, hoping to coax a similar smile out of you in return. "Unless you'd rather just head home and collapse into bed. I completely understand if you're too tired to go out tonight." He kept his tone light and casual, not wanting to pressure you into anything, but secretly hoping you would agree to spend a little more time with him before the night was over.

As the jealous thoughts swirled in your mind, you felt your grip on your temper slipping away. Without really considering the harshness of your words, you blurted out your next sentence, your voice dripping with an unintended bitterness.

"No, but I think Sarah or Lisa would be more than happy to go with you instead," you snapped, immediately regretting the sharpness of your tone. As soon as the words left your lips, you wanted to take them back, but it was too late.

Xavier's eyes widened in surprise at your sudden outburst, and he stopped walking abruptly, forcing you to halt alongside him. He looked down at you, a mix of confusion and hurt flashing across his handsome face as he tried to process your jealous accusation.

"What are you talking about, y/n?" he asked slowly, his brow furrowing with concern. "Sarah and Lisa are on my team, yes, but that doesn't mean I have any intention of asking them out. Why would you even say something like that?"

Xavier stared at you, taken aback by your sudden outburst of jealousy. He opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off abruptly.

"Forget it, okay? Just... just forget I said anything," you muttered, feeling your cheeks flush with anger and embarrassment. You couldn't believe you had let your jealousy get the best of you like that.

Without waiting for his response, you spun on your heel and stormed off down the sidewalk, leaving Xavier standing there looking bewildered. You knew you were being irrational, but you couldn't seem to control the green-eyed monster raging inside you.

As you neared your apartment building, you hesitated, part of you wanting to go back and apologize to Xavier, and another part of you stubbornly insisting that he should be the one to come after you, to reassure you that you were the only one he wanted.

Maybe I should just go inside and cool off, you thought to yourself, knowing that you were still too worked up to have a rational conversation at the moment. I'll apologize properly later, when I'm not so angry and jealous anymore.

As you fumbled with the key, your hands still shaking slightly from the lingering anger and emotion, you finally managed to unlock the door to your apartment. Stepping inside, you quickly turned to lock the door behind you, wanting nothing more than the solitude and safety of your private sanctuary.

But as your hand reached for the lock, you suddenly felt a presence behind you. Your heart leapt into your throat as you spun around, a gasp escaping your lips.

There, standing just a few feet inside the darkened apartment, was none other than Xavier. For a moment, you simply stared at him in shock, your eyes wide and your heart pounding in your chest. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, not the least of which was a fierce mix of relief and guilt.

Before you could even formulate an apology, Xavier began walking towards you with a determined stride. His blue eyes flashed with a mix of emotions - hurt, confusion, and something else you couldn't quite place. He stopped just a breath away from you, his tall frame looming over your own.

"Is that what you're going to do, y/n?" he asked, his voice low and intense. "You're going to act like a brat and accuse me of being interested in other girls, only to run off and try to slam the door in my face?"

Xavier shook his head slowly, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. "I thought we were past this kind of jealousy and insecurity. I've never given you any reason to doubt me or question where my loyalties lie."

Xavier's grip tightened in your hair as he pulled you flush against his firm chest, his other hand coming up to grip your hip possessively. He tilted your chin up with his fingers, forcing you to meet his intense, smoldering gaze.

"Do you need a reminder of what you mean to me?" he growled, his voice low and rough with barely restrained desire.

His lips crashed against yours in a searing, dominating kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. He kissed you deeply, his tongue delving into your mouth to claim you thoroughly, leaving no doubt as to his intentions.

When he finally pulled back, you were both left panting and flushed, your bodies pressed so tightly together that you could feel the rapid thumping of his heartbeat against your own.

"Only a fool would ever look at anyone else when they have you," Xavier rasped, his thumb brushing over your swollen lower lip. "You're all I see, y/n. You're all I want."

He stepped even closer, if that was possible, until you were pinned helplessly between his hard, muscular body and the wall behind you.

"I had other plans for tonight," he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke. "Like holding you close, feeding you a nice dinner, and then slowly, gently making love to you all night long until we both collapsed from exhaustion."

Xavier's hand slid from your hip to grip your ass, squeezing the supple flesh possessively as he ground his hardening cock against your belly. "But it seems like you need a different kind of reminder first."

His other hand released your hair to grip your jaw, tilting your head to the side to expose the column of your throat. "So I'm going to fuck the jealousy out of you," he growled, his teeth grazing your pulse point. "I'm going to fuck you so hard and so thoroughly that the only thought in your pretty little head will be my name."

Xavier's lips latched onto your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin as his hands roamed greedily over your curves. "And then, once I've erased every trace of doubt from your mind, I'm going to fuck you all over again, until you're drowning in pleasure and completely overwhelmed by the knowledge that I belong to you."

He nipped sharply at your earlobe before soothing the sting with his tongue. "Does that sound good, baby? Or do you need more convincing?" Xavier purred, his voice a sinful promise of all the deliciously wicked things he intended to do to your willing body.

Xavier silenced your attempted apology with another searing kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth and leaving you breathless. When he finally pulled back, his eyes flashed with a dark, hungry intensity.

"Apology not accepted," he growled, his voice rough with desire and a hint of anger. "You wanted to be a brat, so now you're going to be treated like one."

His hands made quick work of your clothes, practically tearing them from your body in his haste to bare your flesh to his greedy gaze. Buttons popped and fabric ripped, the sound of destruction filling the air as Xavier laid waste to your wardrobe.

In a matter of moments, you stood before him, naked and vulnerable, your skin flushed and tingling from his rough touches. Xavier drank in the sight of you, his eyes burning with a fierce, possessive hunger.

"Look at you," he rasped, his large hands skimming over your curves. "Feel how hard you make me, baby?" Xavier panted against your lips, his hips rolling in a slow, filthy grind. "You're going to take care of that later, with your cunt. But first..."

His fingers plunged deep inside your fluttering channel, pumping in and out of your tight heat with a punishing rhythm.

Xavier paused, his fingers still buried deep inside your clenching heat as he gazed at you with an intense, searching look. His brow furrowed as he studied your flushed and panting face, his thumb circling your clit with maddeningly light touches.

"Tell me what got you so jealous baby," he demanded, his voice low and rough with barely restrained desire. "I want to hear you say it out loud. I want to know exactly what made you doubt me, doubt us, like this."

His other hand slid up your side, cupping the soft swell of your breast, his fingers sinking into the pliant flesh. He rolled your nipple between his fingers, pinching and tugging at the sensitive peak until it stiffened into a hard, aching point.

“Ngh-Xav—” The whimpers just won’t stop spilling from your lips, his gaze drilling into your eyes and falling straight to your drenching cunt. “I- fuck-”

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke, his voice a dark, commanding rumble.

"Talk to me like a big girl, y/n," he growled, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "Use your words, baby. 

His fingers pumped faster inside your dripping cunt, his palm grinding against your clit with each thrust. The obscene sound of your arousal filled the room as Xavier fingered you hard and fast, determined to wring an answer from your lips.

"Sarah and Lisa they were saying.....ah fuckkk!" You try to tell him about what you heard but his fingers are still deep inside you hitting the perfect spot.

"Sarah and Lisa?" he repeated, a sharp edge to his voice. "You're jealous because of them? Because of my teammates?"

He withdrew his fingers from your clenching heat abruptly, leaving you empty and aching. Before you could protest, he spun you around and bent you over the arm of the couch, your bare ass and dripping pussy on full display.

Xavier delivered a sharp smack to your ass, the sound echoing through the room. "Let me make one thing crystal fucking clear," he snarled, rubbing the reddening flesh. "I. Am. Not. Interested. In. Them."

Another smack landed on your other cheek, harder than the first. "The only reason they were even talking to me was because we were discussing strategy and team dynamics. Nothing more, nothing less."

He gripped your hips punishingly, yanking you back against the thick ridge of his cock. "You're the only one I want, y/n. The only one I crave. The only one I fucking love." To punctuate his words, Xavier thrust his hips forward, grinding his clothed erection against your soaked folds.

Xavier knelt down behind you, his strong hands gripping your thighs and pushing your legs apart. He forced your knees to bend, opening you wide and exposing your glistening, needy sex to his hungry gaze.

"Keep these legs spread for me, baby," he commanded, his voice low and rough with desire."I want to see this pretty pussy as I eat it."

With that, he leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue along your slit, savoring your tangy essence with a low moan. He licked and suckled at your folds, his skilled mouth reducing you to a writhing, mewling mess in record time.

He sealed his lips around your clit and sucked hard, his tongue flicking over the swollen bud with expert precision. Two fingers plunged deep into your clenching channel, pumping in and out of your soaked heat.

"Mmm, sweet girl making such a mess" Xavier purred, his voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh.

He spat directly onto your dripping, glistening folds, watching as fresh waves of your arousal gushed out to coat his chin and drip down onto the couch below. Without hesitation, he leaned in and began to lap at the slickness, sucking and slurping up every drop of your essence.

"Your taste is intoxicating," he groaned, his tongue delving deeper to plunder your fluttering channel. "I could spend hours feasting on this pretty pussy and never get enough."

Xavier's hands slid higher, gripping the globes of your ass and kneading the pliant flesh. He spread you wider, opening you fully to his relentless onslaught as he ate you like a man possessed.

"Please, don't stop," you whimper, your hips bucking needily against his face as you desperately seek more of that blissful friction.

Xavier pulled back, his lips glistening with your arousal as he fixed you with a stern, disapproving glare. He released your thighs, allowing them to close with a soft, intimate sound, then you feel him gripping your hips and pulling you to straddle his lap.

"No," he said firmly, his voice a low, commanding growl. "Good girls get everything they want. Brats like you don't get to cum when they need it."

He punctuated his words with a sharp smack to your ass, the stinging pain sending a jolt through your body. Xavier rubbed the reddening flesh soothingly.

"Since you seem determined to act like a spoiled brat, I think it's only fitting that you be treated as one," he said, a wicked glint in his eye. "You can sit here and squirm on my lap, feeling my hard cock through my pants, until I decide you've learned your lesson."

Xavier's other hand slid up your spine, wrapping around the nape of your neck. He tilted your head to the side, exposing the slender column of your throat to his hungry mouth. He licked and nipped at the sensitive skin, his teeth grazing your pulse point.

He rocked his hips upwards, grinding his rigid length against your aching, empty sex. The thin fabric of his pants created a maddening barrier between you, allowing you to feel the shape and size of him but denying you the sweet friction you craved.

"Be a good brat and sit still," Xavier ordered, his voice a low, dominant rumble. "We have all night long for me to teach you the consequences of jealousy and insecurity."

Xavier's fingers made quick work of his belt and zipper, freeing his thick, hard cock from his pants. The moment his length sprang out, he gripped your hips and lifted you slightly, allowing his shaft to slap against your dripping, swollen clit a couple times in quick succession.

"Feel that, baby?" he whispered, his voice rough and heavy with desire. "Feel how hard you make me? How much I want you?"

He pinched your nipple hard, rolling the sensitive peak between his fingers as he continued his torturous teasing. Each pass of his cockhead over your aching clit sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, stoking the fire in your core.

His cockhead pushing against your entrance before sliding back up to bump against your clit. He set a maddeningly slow, teasing rhythm, denying you the deep penetration you desperately craved.

"Please..." you whimpered, your body writhing in his lap as you tried to chase more of that glorious friction. "Please, Xavier...I need...I need..."

"Need what, sweetgirl?" he purred, a wicked glint in his eye as he watched you squirm. "Tell me what you need. Use your words, brat."

His hand slid from your breast to your thigh, gripping it tightly as he spread your leg further to the side. This new position allowed him to grind the thick ridge of his cock directly against your dripping slit, the head catching on your entrance with each torturous thrust.

"Tell me how badly you want it," Xavier growled, his voice a dark, sinful rumble. "Tell me what it would feel like to have my big, hard cock stretching out your tight little cunt. Filling you up so deep and so fucking full..."

He punctuated his words with a sharp, sudden thrust, his cockhead popping inside your entrance before quickly pulling back out. The brief, fleeting sensation of fullness only served to heighten your desperate arousal and frustration.

Xavier's eyes darkened with lust as he watched your eyes flutter shut, your head lolling back in ecstasy with each maddeningly slow thrust. The needy, desperate sounds spilling from your lips only fueled his own desire, his cock throbbing and leaking against your soaked folds.

"That's it, baby," he purred, his voice a low, wicked rumble. "Let me hear how much you want it. Let me hear how badly you need my cock."

He gripped your thighs tighter, spreading your legs wider as he ground his hips against yours with ruthless precision. Each pass of his cockhead over your aching clit sent electric shocks of pleasure zipping up your spine, your back arching as you chased the sensation.

"Please, Xavier..." you whimpered, your voice breaking on a desperate moan. "Please fuck me. I need your cock so badly. I need you to fill me up and fuck me hard and don't stop until I'm screaming your name..."

"Since you asked so nicely, baby..." he growled against your lips, his voice rough and heavy with desire. "I suppose I can give you what you need."

Xavier gripped your hips tightly, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he lifted you up with a grunt of effort. He positioned your dripping, aching sex directly over his throbbing, engorged cock, the swollen head nudging against your entrance with a teasing promise of the pleasure to come.

With that, he surged upwards, driving his thick, pulsing shaft deep into your tight, clenching heat. Your body stretched deliciously around his girth as he hilts inside you, his heavy balls coming to rest against your ass with a lewd slap.

"FUCK!" you both screamed in unison as your bodies joined, your voices echoing off the walls.

Xavier gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he guided your movements. "That's it, baby. Ride me just like that," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Use these sexy legs and fuck yourself on my cock until you make yourself cum."

He leaned forward, capturing your nipple between his teeth. He bit down just hard enough to make you gasp, sending a jolt of pained pleasure straight to your core. At the same time, one of his hands slid around to grip your ass, spreading your cheeks and tilting your hips to take him even deeper.

"That's it. Fuck...I can feel you getting closer," he groaned, his hot breath washing over your breast. "Your cunt is squeezing me so fucking tight."

Xavier's grip tightened on your hips as he watched your core slide up and down his shaft, your velvet walls clenching and fluttering around him with each upward glide. The exquisite sensation of your silken heat gripping his cock so tightly sent a surge of primal lust crashing through his veins, his balls drawing up tight against his body as his own release approached.

"That's it, baby. Fuck...keep squeezing my cock just like that," he growled, his voice a low, guttural rumble. 

The words “C-cumming-” are barely starting words out of your mouth before it crashes into you headfirst. You arch your spine into the perfect semi-circle as your orgasm crashed over you. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your fingers clawing at his skin as you clung to him for dear life, your cries of ecstasy filling the room.

"Fuck....fuck..fu...!" Xavier roared, his voice echoing off the walls as your velvet walls clamped down on his cock like a vice. The sensation of your cunt spasming and fluttering around his shaft pushed him over the edge, his own release slamming into him.

He slammed his hips upwards one last time, burying himself to the hilt inside your quivering heat as his cock jerked and pulsed. Thick, hot ropes of cum painted your insides, coating your walls with his seed as he emptied himself inside you with a guttural groan.

Xavier's body shuddered and jerked as he rode out the aftershocks of his intense climax, holding your trembling form tightly against his chest. He peppered your neck and shoulder with soft kisses, his hands roaming over your curves possessively as he slowly came down from the high of his release.

Xavier tangled his fingers in your hair, gripping the silky strands gently as he tilted your head back to look up at him. His blue eyes searched yours intensely, the emotion and sincerity in their depths making your heart flutter in your chest.

He brushed a tender kiss against your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin for a long moment. "I meant what I said before. I love you more than anything in this world or any other. You're my everything, my reason for living."

"Believe me, my love," he murmured, his voice a low, fervent whisper. "No one can ever take your place in my heart. It belongs to you, completely and utterly, now and forever."

Rafayel 🐡

Rafayel was already awake, his mind too restless to sleep any longer. He sat on the balcony of the resort hotel, watching the sun begin to peek over the horizon. The desert landscape seemed to glow in the early morning light, the sand dunes casting long shadows across the barren expanse.

He heard the sound of your footsteps approaching and turned to see you emerge from the bedroom, your hair still tousled with sleep. A small smile played at the corners of his mouth as he took in your appearance, remembering the feel of your body pressed against his as you slept.

Rising from the balcony chair, he crossed the distance between you and took your hand in his, bringing it to his lips to press a soft kiss to your knuckles. His eyes met yours, a flicker of mischief dancing in their purple-pink depths.

"Good morning, my love," he murmured, his voice still rough with sleep. "I have to run some errands at the art gallery today. Would you come with me? I promise it won't take long."

He knew he was being selfish, asking you to accompany him. But the thought of spending even a moment away from you was unbearable, especially in a place like this that felt so foreign and oppressive to him. He needed your presence, your calming influence, to ground him.

"Fine, but you have to invite me some dinner after" you say rubbing the sleep off your eyes.

Rafayel leaned back and laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief and gratitude. "Dinner it is," he agreed, his voice warm with a newfound lightness. "I know a little place not far from here, a local gem hidden away in the back alleys of the city. They serve the most divine seafood, as fresh as if it was caught that very day."

An hour later, you emerged from the bedroom dressed for the day ahead. Rafayel had already finished getting ready, looking devastatingly handsome in a crisp linen shirt the color of a summer sky and tailored trousers that hugged his lean frame. He leaned against the wall opposite the bedroom door, his arms crossed over his chest and a playful smirk on his lips as he watched you approach.

"Well, don't you look good enough to eat," he purred, pushing off the wall and closing the distance between you in a few quick strides. His hands came up to rest on your hips, pulling you flush against him as he dipped his head down to steal a heated kiss. He lingered for a long moment, savoring the taste of your lips and the feeling of your body pressed against his.

As you ate breakfast, Rafayel couldn't keep his eyes off of you. He watched as you bit into a piece of fruit, your lips parting and your tongue darting out to catch a stray drop of juice. He felt a surge of desire rush through him, his body responding to the simple, intimate gesture with a fervor that surprised even him.

He reached across the table and took your hand in his own, squeezing your fingers gently as he leaned in closer to you. "I'm so glad you agreed to come with me today," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "I don't think I could have faced that place alone."

As you guys arrived at the gallery, a sense of unease began to creep over Rafayel. He had been looking forward to seeing Thomas and discuss some important business matters they had to attend to. However, as you stepped inside the cool, air-conditioned space, Rafayel's brow furrowed in confusion.

As you turned a corner, Rafayel spotted a note taped to the wall, the paper fluttering slightly in the breeze from the AC vent. He released your hand and stepped forward, plucking the note from the wall and unfolding it with a sense of growing trepidation.

The note was from Thomas, the handwriting hurried and slightly illegible.

Thomas wrote that something urgent had come up, a family emergency that required his immediate attention. He apologized for not being there and promised to make it up to Rafayel soon. However, he also mentioned that there was a package waiting for Rafayel in his office, something important that he needed to deal with right away.

"Well, I suppose you'll just have to play the role of my assistant for the day," he murmured " And i can't leave without my important...package"

" I wouldn't call myself a package"

Rafayel's head snapped towards the source of the voice, his body tensing up as he recognized the redhead girl emerging from the office. His eyes narrowed, a flicker of something like irritation and unease flashing across his face before it settled into a blank, guarded expression.

Releasing you from his embrace, Rafayel took a step back, putting a bit of distance between your bodies. He crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw tightening as he regarded the girl warily.

It was clear he knew her, though from the look on his face, not particularly well or fondly. There was a history there, something unspoken that hung heavy in the air between them. Rafayel's posture was defensive, his body language radiating a subtle warning.

The girl smirked, her green eyes glinting with a smug satisfaction as she took in the scene before her - Rafayel's guarded stance, your confusion, the charged atmosphere. She was enjoying the clear discomfort radiating off of Rafayel, reveling in catching him off guard.

"Rafayel," she purred, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "I've been waiting for you. I do hope I won't be kept waiting much longer"

Rafayel's jaw tightened, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he met her gaze head on. "Celine," he acknowledged coolly, his voice tight. "I apologize for the delay. I had some...unexpected business to attend to first."

He glanced back at you, a silent apology and promise in his eyes before turning his attention back to Celine. "What brings you here? I thought we had an arrangement..."

Celine's lips curled into a sharp, wicked smile at Rafayel's words, a glint of triumph in her green eyes. She took a step closer to him, invading his personal space as she gazed up at him with a challenging smirk.

"Oh, I remember our arrangement perfectly, darling, but I'm afraid things have...changed. I need to discuss some new terms with you. In private"

She jerked her head towards the office, a clear gesture for him to follow her. There was a commanding edge to her voice, a tone that brooked no argument or refusal.

Rafayel's jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides as he glared down at Celine. It was clear he was not pleased with this development, the interruption to his plans and the demand for a private audience. He glanced back at you, a flicker of apology and frustration in his eyes.

"I apologize, cutie," he said softly, his voice tight. "I won't be long. Wait for me here? "

He didn't wait for your response before turning on his heel and striding towards the office, Celine falling into step beside him. As they disappeared through the door, Rafayel cast one last lingering look your way, a silent promise that he would explain everything once he was free of this unexpected obligation.

Left alone in the gallery, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over you like a shroud. Who was this woman, and what hold did she have over Rafayel? And more importantly, what secrets were they hiding from you?

An hour had passed since Rafayel had disappeared into the office with Celine, each minute feeling like an eternity as you waited anxiously in the gallery. The once vibrant space now felt cold and sterile, the art on the walls losing their luster as worry gnawed at you.

Unable to bear the suspense any longer, you made your way towards the office, your heart pounding in your chest as you approached the closed door. You raised your hand, knuckles poised to rap against the wood, when you heard the muffled sound of raised voices from within.

Rafayel's voice, low and angry, cut through the silence. "I can't believe you're doing this, Celine. I thought we had an understanding."

Celine's voice, sharp and mocking, followed. "Circumstances change, darling. And you're hardly in a position to refuse me anything."

You froze, your hand hovering inches from the door as you strained to hear more. But the voices fell silent, a tense, heavy quiet descending upon the office.

With a deep breath, you knocked firmly on the door, your nerves on edge. "Rafayel? It's me. I'm going to step out for a bit, maybe do some shopping. I'll call you when I'm done, alright?"

As you approached the office door, ready to knock once more, Celine emerged from within. She stepped out, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor as she paused, looking you up and down with a critical, almost disdainful eye.

Celine's gaze lingered on you for a long moment, a smirk playing at the corners of her painted lips. She lifted a hand, pretending to wipe at the corner of her mouth with a dainty finger, a mocking gesture that sent a chill down your spine.

She tsked softly, shaking her head as she stepped closer to you. There was a wicked glint in her green eyes, a cruel amusement that made your skin crawl.

"Look who it is. Rafayel's little pet, come to check on her master?"

Celine circled you like a shark, her heels clicking an ominous rhythm on the floor. She leaned in closer, her perfume washing over you, the scent cloying and overwhelming.

"I must say, darling, she purred, her breath hot against your ear. You don't look like you have what it takes to keep a man like Rafayel satisfied. I do hope you're not feeling...inadequate?"

She threw her head back and laughed, a harsh, grating sound that echoed through the gallery. The cruelty in her eyes was unmistakable, the malice behind her words impossible to ignore.

Celine smirked at your stunned silence, your obvious discomfort clearly amusing her. She took a step back, smoothing down her tailored suit jacket with a self-satisfied air.

"Well, this has been...enlightening," she commented, a mocking lilt to her voice. She glanced down at her manicured nails, picking at a nonexistent speck of lint.

"But I must go and clean myself up. All this...business can be so messy, don't you think?"

With a final, cruel smile thrown your way, Celine turned on her heel and sauntered off, disappearing down the hallway towards the restrooms, leaving you standing there, your mind reeling.

With a sense of trepidation and growing unease, you pushed open the office door, the hinges creaking softly as it swung inward. As you stepped inside, your gaze fell upon Rafayel, seated behind the large mahogany desk that dominated the room.

He looked up as you entered, his purple-pink eyes meeting yours. There was a weariness in his expression, a tension in his shoulders that spoke of the difficult conversation he had just endured. The room was filled with a heavy, charged silence, the air thick with the weight of unspoken words and secrets.

"Don't let her get to you. Celine is...a complicated part of my past. But you don't need to worry about her.

"Is she now?" You ask, " well since she thinks I'm not good enough to keep you satisfied I think I know what kind of relationship you had"

Rafayel's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and hurt at your accusation. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the desk as he fixed you with an intense, almost accusing stare. The air between you crackled with tension, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the space.

He was silent for a long moment, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he seemed to struggle with how to respond. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and tight, tinged with a bitterness you had never heard before.

"You think you know, but you have no idea," he bit out, his words sharp and cutting. "Celine and I...we had a business arrangement. Nothing more.

He paused, his eyes searching yours as if trying to gauge your reaction. There was a vulnerability in his gaze, a raw honesty that made your heart ache.

Rafayel leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he studied your jealous expression. His eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and something else, something darker and more intense.

"You're jealous, aren't you?" he murmured, a teasing lilt to his voice even as his gaze remained serious. "you think I can't see it written all over your face, my love?"

He stood slowly, rising to his feet and rounding the desk until he stood before you. His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your lower lip as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.

As you turned to leave, unable to bear the tension and uncertainty any longer, Rafayel's hand shot out and caught your wrist in a firm grip. He pulled you back towards him, his eyes flashing with a sudden intensity.

"Where do you think you're going, cutie?" he asked, a dangerous edge to his voice. Before you could respond, he had already crossed the room and closed the office door with a sharp click.

"I don't think I'm done with you just yet. We need to talk about this little...outburst of jealousy"

He stepped closer, backing you up until your back hit the door. His hands came up to grip your hips, pulling your body flush against his as he gazed down at you with a mix of amusement and something else, something darker and more primal.

"Tell me, y/n", he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "Do you really think so little of me? Of us? I thought you knew me better than that... But it seems I was wrong."

Rafayel's hands slid down to grip the backs of your thighs, his fingers digging into your flesh as he lifted you effortlessly. He carried you towards the desk, sweeping aside the clutter of papers and art supplies before setting you down on the polished wood surface.

He stepped between your parted legs, his hands coming to rest on your knees as he leaned in close, his face mere inches from yours. The desk creaked softly beneath your combined weight, the sound echoing in the tense silence of the office.

His hands slid slowly up your thighs, his thumbs tracing teasing circles on the sensitive skin just below the hem of your skirt. He was close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his body, could see the pulse jumping in his throat as he stared you down.

"I won't have you doubting me, doubting us", he said softly, but there was a steely undercurrent to his words. "Now, pretty...what makes you think you know the true nature of my relationship with Celine? What makes you think you know anything at all about the man you claim to love?"

As you began to stammer out an explanation, Rafayel silenced you by suddenly reaching between your thighs. His fingers deftly pushed your skirt up and out of the way, and in one sharp, aggressive motion, he ripped your panties clean off, the flimsy fabric tearing like tissue paper in his grasp.

You gasped, your body jolting at the sudden, intimate contact and the brutal destruction of your undergarment. Rafayel's eyes flashed with a wild, almost feral light as he watched your reaction, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Shhhhh", he hushed you, his fingers already delving beneath the tattered remains of your panties to stroke along your most sensitive flesh. "No more words out of your pretty mouth, my love. No more words at all."

He pushed your thighs further apart, making room for himself as he stepped even closer, the hard, muscular length of his body pressing against yours. His hand cupped your sex possessively, his thumb finding your clit and circling the tender bud with a maddening, teasing pressure.

Rafayel's hands gripped your ankles, pushing your feet up and outwards until your knees bent and your legs fell open, fully exposing you to his hungry gaze. Your skirt, now bunched up around your waist, left you bare and vulnerable, the tattered remnants of your ruined panties dangling off one ankle.

He drank in the sight of your naked, glistening sex, his eyes darkening with lust and a possessive intensity that made your heart race. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned down, his breath hot and heavy against your most intimate flesh.

He leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue along your slit, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. He licked a long, slow stripe from your entrance up to your clit, his tongue circling the sensitive bud before sucking it into his mouth with a low, approving groan.

"You taste like heaven" he murmured against your flesh, his words muffled and distorted by his greedy mouthing at your sex.

" Raf.....the door isn't locked" you warn him.

Rafayel paused briefly in his ministrations, glancing up at you with a wicked, almost defiant grin. He seemed not at all concerned by the possibility of being caught in such a compromising position.

"Let them come," he challenged, a reckless edge to his voice. "Let the whole fucking world see me claiming what's mine. I don't care anymore."

With that, he dove back in, his mouth latching onto your sex with a hunger that bordered on feral. His tongue pushed inside you, thrusting deep and hard, fucking you with a intensity that stole your breath.

One hand released your hip to slide up your body, pushing your shirt out of the way to expose your breasts. He palmed the soft mounds, his fingers sinking into the supple flesh as he rolled and plucked at your nipples.

Rafayel lifted his head, his lips glistening with your essence as he stared up at you with a wicked, challenging grin. He seemed to relish the idea of being caught in such a compromising position, of giving the world a peek into the dark, passionate side of his nature.

"The walls are thin here", he murmured, his voice low and rough with lust. "So it's up to you cutie, Do we keep your sweet cries of pleasure to ourselves...or do we let everyone outside hear just how much you love being fucked by me?"

As Rafayel's fingers pinched and rolled your nipple almost painfully, and his teeth clamped down hard on your sensitive clit, you could no longer hold back the tide of pleasure that crashed over you. A loud, wanton scream tore from your throat, echoing off the thin walls of the office and no doubt carrying out into the hallway beyond.

"Fuck, yes!" Rafayel growled in approval as he felt your body convulse beneath him, your juices flooding his mouth and chin. He lapped at you greedily, his tongue delving deep to catch every drop of your essence as he pushed you ruthlessly through your intense climax.

In a sudden, aggressive motion, Rafayel flipped you over onto your stomach on the desk. He pressed your chest down against the cool, smooth wood, the air forcing out of your lungs in a rush. Before you could catch your breath, he had already gripped your hips and tugged them back, bending you at the waist and exposing your bare, dripping sex to his hungry gaze.

"Fuck, look at this ass", he growled, his hands kneading and squeezing the round globes roughly. "Such a perfect, fuckable ass. It's a crime to keep it hidden away"

He punctuated his words by delivering a sharp smack to one cheek, the sound of the impact echoing through the room. The sting quickly gave way to a warm, tingling pleasure that spread through your nerves, making you clench and tighten around nothing.

With that, he gripped the base of his thick, hard cock and rubbed the leaking tip teasingly along your slit. He coated himself in your juices, mixing them with the bead of precum that oozed from his slit. Then, with one hard, ruthless thrust, he buried himself inside your tight, clutching heat.

"Fuck, so fucking tight," he grunted, his hips flush against your ass as he savored the feel of your walls gripping him like a vice. "Such a perfect fucking fit for my cock. Like you were made just for me..."

Rafayel began to move, his hips pulling back until just the tip of his cock remained inside you, before slamming forward and burying himself to the hilt once more. He set a hard, fast pace, the desk creaking and shaking beneath you with each powerful thrust of his hips.

Your face was pressed into the smooth wood, drool already beginning to pool and drip from the corner of your slack mouth. The sensation of being so thoroughly taken, so completely at the mercy of Rafayel's lust and desire, was overwhelming. It was almost too much, too intense.

Rafayel grabbed your arms, pulling them up and bending them at the elbows to either side of your head. He placed your palms flat against the desk, giving you something to hold onto as he continued his relentless, pounding assault on your pussy.

"Hold on tight, cutie", he growled, his voice strained with exertion and lust. "You're going to need to brace yourself for what comes next. I'm not going to hold back, not anymore."

Rafayel kept up his relentless pace, pounding into you with a single-minded determination. But despite the intensity of his thrusts and the building pleasure, he somehow avoided hitting that one special spot inside you that always sent you hurtling over the edge. It was as if he could read your mind, could sense your impending release, and was deliberately denying you that final push.

"Punishing you," he murmured, his voice a low, dark rumble in your ear. "Teasing you, making you beg so sweetly for something I can give you...but won't. Not yet."

"Don't you dare come until I say you can," he ordered, his voice a harsh, dominating bark. "You don't get to come until I've had my fill...until I've pumped this greedy cunt full of my seed and marked you as mine"

You found yourself begging, unable to hold back the desperate pleas that spilled from your lips. Your voice was high and thin, strained with the effort of holding back your rapidly approaching climax, of keeping your body from seizing control.

"Please, Rafayel, please!" you cried out, your fingers scrabbling against the smooth wood of the desk as you tried to find purchase, to anchor yourself against the overwhelming sensation. "Please, I need...I need to come. I can't...please, Rafayel!"

Tears of frustration and desperation pricked at the corners of your eyes, your body shaking and trembling beneath Rafayel's ruthless onslaught. You were completely at his mercy, completely under his control. And in that moment, you knew you would do anything, say anything, to earn the release you so desperately craved.

He leaned down, his chest pressing against your back, his lips finding your ear. When he spoke, his voice was a low, dark rasp, each word deliberately enunciated.

"Don't. Ever. Doubt. Me."

He punctuated each word with a sharp, precise thrust of his hips, driving his cock deep inside you, grinding against that maddeningly elusive spot just out of reach. Your body shook and trembled, tears leaking from your clenched eyes as you bit your lip hard enough to draw blood, trying to stifle your increasingly desperate moans.

"Im. Yours."

Thrust.

"Completely. And. Totally."

Thrust.

"Yours"

Thrust

"So you'll wait. You'll wait until I give you permission. Until I grant you the release you so desperately crave. Until then...you'll take what I give you. Understand?"

He emphasized his demand with a particularly brutal thrust, his pelvis slamming against your ass, his cock buried to the hilt inside your clutching heat. He remained still for a long moment, his breath hot and heavy against your neck, his heart pounding against your back.

"Tell me you understand y/n"

As soon as the words "I do" left your lips, Rafayel let out a low growl of satisfaction. He angled your hips just so, tilting them up and back to align your body perfectly with his. And then, with a ferocity that stole your breath, he began to pound into that sweet spot deep inside you.

"Yes, just like that", he rasped, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release.

"That's it, baby", he encouraged, his hips never faltering in their relentless rhythm. "I can feel you getting close. I can feel your pussy clenching around me, trying to suck me in deeper. You're so fucking close, aren't you? Ready to explode like a fucking firework?"

He angled your hips again, changing the angle slightly, and suddenly you could feel the tension in your body pulling tighter, the coil wound to its breaking point. Your breath came in ragged, desperate gasps, your fingers scrabbling against the desk as you tried to find purchase, to anchor yourself against the tidal wave of sensation threatening to sweep you away.

"Come for me, pretty girl", Rafayel demanded, his voice a low, dark command. "Come screaming my name, so everyone knows who makes you feel this fucking good. Now, fucking do it!"

With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself balls-deep inside you, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he finally allowed his own release to overtake him. Thick, scalding ropes of his seed painted your insides, marking you, claiming you as his own as he filled you with his essence.

The sensation of his hot cum flooding your core pushed you over the edge, your body seizing and convulsing beneath his as you came harder than you ever had before. Your scream of ecstasy echoed off the thin walls, no doubt alerting everyone in the vicinity to your shared climax.

As the intense waves of your shared climax began to ebb, Rafayel collapsed against your back, his weight pressing you down into the desk. You both panted and gasped for air, bodies slick with sweat, hearts racing in tandem as you struggled to regain your composure.

After a long moment, Rafayel rolled off of you, his softening cock slipping from your dripping cunt. He gathered you into his arms, holding you close as he pulled you up to sit on the edge of the desk. Your legs were shaky, and you leaned against him for support, not trusting your own balance just yet.

"Look at the mess we made," he murmurs, his voice still rough and strained. He gestures to the desk, streaked with your combined fluids, and the floor, splattered with the evidence of your passionate coupling.

"But it was worth it. Fuck, was it ever worth it. I love you, y/n," he whispers against your lips, his breath mingling with yours. "And I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never forget it."

As you both stepped out of the office, still flushed and disheveled from your passionate encounter, you find Celine waiting. The young woman's eyes were round as saucers, her face a deep shade of red as she no doubt processed the sounds she had just witnessed emanating from the closed door.

Rafayel barely spared her a glance as he strode past, his arm around your waist to keep you steady. He paused just before exiting the building and turned to face Celine, a wicked smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Keep the paintings, Celine", he instructed, his voice still rough and low from their recent activities. "Our agreement is null and void, effective immediately. Consider this a parting gift, for your trouble."

Celine's mouth opened and closed a few times, as if trying to formulate a response, but no words came out. She looked stunned, her gaze flickering between you and Rafayel.

"And say hi to the family for me, dear cousin", Rafayel added with a mocking, almost cruel edge to his voice. 

With that parting shot, he ushered you out into the brilliant sunlight, the warm air a stark contrast to the cool interior of the gallery.

[harmoonix]

Venus Observations II

where your heart lies?

Channeling song:

A partner having Venus - Pluto aspects can be one of the hottest things in a relationship, both synastry and natal. This is the epitome of soul craving love. There is something more than just love, which is a connection of pure desires

Lowkey Pluto - Venus aspects attract the most toxic partners for a reason, too. They can look like they can be manipulated, but they're actually not

A Virgo Venus always pays attention to everything about their partners/people they like. Every change brings a new feeling

Venus in Scorpio has a hidden sexual part of themselves. When you get to know them better, you'll end up like 'I didn't know you're like that' but in a good way

Venus in Pisces/12th houses have a hard time to realize that they're actually in love. Sometimes, they might feel like the love is not real or that they can not be loved, which is sad because they are amazing people

Something i like about cancer venus is that they always try to find warm-hearted people, fragile in a way, they want to protect but to also feel protected. They have the gift to create beautiful families and a household name

Venus in the 3rd/5th boost their relationships with all the sort of creativity. They´re the brain of that relationship. You are a piece of art in the eyes of your lover

Venus in Gemini can often match with their partners, and i´ve seen this happening a lot with air venuses, i like the idea of matching with your partner, too. You´d might also have a beautiful body language with them too

2, 14, 26 degrees on venus can make the native to like the small gestures of their partners, i feel these people like random kisses and holding hands 24/7

8, 20 degrees on venus might be a full drive for these natives. Kinda of mysterious love and full of surprises, i would say you can depend on your partner a lot sexually with these degrees

11, 23 degrees on venus can make a good first impression, you might have a influencer type of attraction even if youre not an influencer, and people really like the energy you bring with yourself

5, 17, 29 degrees on venus can attract the type of "eyes only for me" lover, you´d like to recieve your most attention from your partner, is not just attention but you also crave to have them 24/7 around you

I just discovered that Lana del rey has a TAURUS VENUS?? THAT makes so much sense. Oh my. Her vibes are immaculate, and her earthy vibes 100/10 +. Her deep voice because of the taurus effect is so true

Having a fire venus by side your side and a bloody vampire by the other is the same thing, both passionate souls, driven by power and sexual energy, they might like to chase after their lovers

Aries Venus or 1, 13, 25 degrees on your venus can make your beauty as a whole to appear very prominent. This is Rihanna energy so "shine bright like a diamond". Respectfully do it. Main character vibes

I love the combo of a aries venus x capricorn venus, one of my favorite venus combos, both signs are so powerful in a relationship resulting in a power couple. I love it

Venus in 2h/9H/10H/11h = gaining attention without really wanting that, the eyes still gonna be on you, and the truth is that you can't hide yourself from the world. Venus in these houses can be recognized for specific things tho

Venus in Aquarius/11h = queen of the dancefloor energy, venus here is known for dressing so good and being outwordly in other words, a beautiful soul, you can possess such a good humanitarian soul

Venus at 3, 15, 27 degrees has a good eye for decorating, they´d may be these type of people with really beautiful rooms and they´d also be the type to decorate the full house for christmas

Venus at 1° can indicate being quite attractive. It gives a power to when it comes to the manifestation about your beauty. You can manifest your beauty

Venus in Leo or Capricorn like to have power over their beauty/looks. These Venus signs are also known to be dominant ones (assert dominance)

The weeknd has a Capricorn Venus, and he has a lotttt of love songs some of them getting sexual, he has issues with his relationships tho with a stellium in the 7th house

Kate Winslet has a Virgo Venus, and Leonardo DiCaprio has a Scorpio Venus. Everything makes sense now. A lovely combo for a lovely movie

I write so much of Pisces Venus because I simply love the placement, but in real life, it doesn't even match with my Venus sign 💀 synastry would be toxic af because these Venus signs won't be matching but I still love it

When it comes to having Jupiter - Venus aspects, the native might radiate kindness, peace, beauty, hypnotic love type, spiritual love

Venus aspecting Ascendant natives definitely are in our list, these people usually have soft features on their face (unless the asc is aspecting other planets too), big eyelashes, lips eyes, can look more soft/feminine for both genders. + Their bodies can be beautiful like a piece of art

Venus aspecting the south node makes it hard for the native to let a relationship go. You're hurt. You're done, but you still don't want to move from it. You get attached, and that can become super unhealthy

I feel like 6° or 18° degrees on Venus makes the native to have a beautiful mind/mindset, and the way they think and put their words out might charm people

Venus in the 12th house can have a small circle of people around them, small but precious. They don't want to be around fake friends or to make enemies

Lilith - Venus aspects can often create a sort of 'searching for troubles in a relationship'. This can happen when there are harsh aspects. You kinda like it when it is toxic or when they get jealous

Venus at 0° can indicate a journey of learning how to love yourself. How to find the love for other people and, of course, to experience relationships with other people

Libra Venus often might have secret admires around them. They might be close people or people who barely know you. With this Venus sign, relationships can come so easily in your life

Is self explanatory that a Venus in the 7th house can really have that type of relationship everyone wants. It can manifest in different ways like a partner, traits of them, treatment, and many more

Venus at 7° or 19° degrees can be superrrrrr lustful. Idk if it is something their body wants or something they really crave, but I everyone I met with those degrees on their Venus was lusty af. Sinful love type

Venus transit in your 10th or 11th hosue can make the native to have random crushes on celebrities. Like out of nowhere.

Venus transit your 1st house can make you have a glowup after a bad/downfall period of your time/life. Usually comes for the best

Your relationships can change every time you have your Venus return. You can find yourself focusing on relationships, either being depressed about it

10° degrees on Venus has high chances to attract serious partners. As in life but also a lifestyle of a serious native while at 22° they can appear as having more experience or to be more wise than you

There is always an age gap for those who have wither Venus- Uranus aspects or Venus - Saturn aspects. Age gaps are not always a problem unless one of the partners is too young for the other one

If you'd like more observations about the planet Venus, here is part 1 🤩. Thank you so much for being here ❤️❤️❤️

[okwonyo]

日语 ✴︎ I CAN MELT AN IGLOO, CAUSE I’M SO DANG HOT.

in which. 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗅.

（𝖬𝖠𝖦𝖠𝖹𝒾𝖭𝖤） ｡ boyf!enha & fem!rea 8OO fluff established relationship ─── kissing skinship

じや ：#divaz told me to post this first ♡ don’t forget to vote for the boys !

reblogs ୨୧ feedbacks please ／ help

heeseung likes to dive his eyes into yours. at any given moment or circumstances, he loves to hold eye contact with you. his gaze flicker into yours as soon as you start to talk, his entire focus on you. which makes a garden of butterflies appear in the pit of your stomach— “stop looking at me like that,” you say in the middle of your sentence and he laughs.

heeseung, as implied before, loves to watch you. and it might seem crazy, but even when you kiss— he open his eyes slightly. to see your flushed face up close like, your eyes close as you melt into his mouth like that. it is not an habit you were aware before your drunk friend told you about it.

( + )

jongseong isn’t the type to use too many words. he has this habit of calling you over with signs, as if you were a cat. most of the time, he sits down and immediately taps his lap to indicate to you to come sit there. he whispers a sweet praise in your ear, wrapping his strong arms around your waist.

jongseong knows a few tricks to make you look at him again. his favorite one is by lifting your chin with his index finger and lean in, “look at me,” he orders gently and you do as you were told. he loves to watch your cheeks get more and more red while he holds your attention this way and talks to you. the grin on his face tells you that much.

jaeyun doesn’t even seem to realize when he is doing it. it comes naturally to him, he can’t control himself— and honestly, even if could stop himself, he would rather check out his beautiful girlfriend all the time. dragging his eyes all over your figure makes him feel things, he can’t help but bite down a smirk everytime. barely aware of the effect it has on you.

jaeyun’s obsession with jeans started with you. he remembers, the first that he saw you in those and swa you turning around— his head did too. the growing need to slide his hands in your back pocket grew fast and astronomically big that time, and he can’t just not do it now. he pus his huge hand in your backpocket while you walk, when he wants to turn you around, whenever he feels like it.

sunghoon doesn’t hide the fact that he has muscles, especially not to you. a day won’t go by without him flexing ‘unknowingly’ while shooting you a quick glance. the most attractive thing about his muscular body, is that he an manhandle you whenever and wherever he wants. “bedtime,” he calls before hoping your body over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

sunghoon often leans against tall surfaces. sometimes with his arms crossed under his chest, sometimes with his forearm supporting him as he towers over you. a silly pick up lines floats away from his mouth, his proud grin being the thing that makes your heart swell at the end.

sunoo leans his head back a lot, showing off his perfect neck. what drives you into a spiral is when he groans softly— the sound coming out of his mouth as not egal and the way his adam apple pops makes your knees incredibly week. your eyes are unable to focus on anything else.

sunoo when you are standing on his path, holds your waist gently before moving you to the side. “sorry, baby,” he tells you as he does so, a cute smile drawn on his face. he is already far before you can realize what happened.

jungwon is really expressive, especially in the brows area. there isn’t anything in particular with what he does with them— it is all just the way he moves them, just something about the little raises that says he likes something, they make you crazy.

jungwon rarely ever gets mad. if you were to be honest, you never thought it was possible to see that side of him until he got angry over work. and listen, you are obviously sad to see him frustrated. but, dear god, the way his jaw tightens and his angry smile…

riki is obviously much taller than you are. he has to look down to see you, and sometimes your words don’t reach him properly. therefore, he leans in to listen to you properly, “hm?” he hums with his breath on your neck.

riki, given his height, has a better view than anyone for everything. he doesn’t need to get on his tiptoes in a crowed event to see what he wants to see— you, however… has the great boyfriend that he is, he lifts you up as soon as he sees you struggling to see anything. with his hands holding your thighs close to his waist, he asks, “is it good now, princess?”

taglist is open. & @sgz-net

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

I can stay silent no longer. Viktor and big tits. Guys.

Viktor can't stop looking at your tits, and he’s trying oh so very hard to not be obvious about it, because of how embarrassing it is. He's doing his best to stay respectful, but his eyes constantly drift downwards whenever you move and your bust shifts or bounces. He can't even focus on his notes when you're standing nearby, the calculations in his mind gone in a puff of smoke every time you pass by him.

More often than not, he finds himself staring at the way you rest your chest on your desk to help with your back pain; whenever you look up and catch him in the act, his cheeks get so red he has to hide them underneath his hands. He pretends he's deeply focused on reading the book of ancient runes in front of him, but in reality, he's been stuck on the same sentence for the last half an hour.

An insubordinate, nasty little voice in the back of his head whispers that he could help you: he knows a lot about back pain after all, doesn't he? He could be so good for you, if you only let him touch you…

The worst is when you come to ask him questions, just slightly pushing your tits against his back to lean over his shoulder; he can't count the number of times it's almost made him fall over in panic (excluding the times it has actually landed him right down on his ass). It’s gotten to the point where he has to excuse himself to the restroom for a few minutes at a time, just to remind himself how to breathe and to make sure the tent forming in his pants is fully dead and gone.

If his pride doesn't kill him first, with how flustered and unnerved you manage to get him by simply existing in the lab, then the constant, awkward falling at your feet like an enamoured fool surely will.

For your birthday, he ultimately decides to get you a nice, fancy jacket to put on top of your blouse while you work. Lab assistants aren't supposed to wear these, usually: they're reserved for professors and their own assistants. But it closes right where that damn, one little button stretches the fabric to its very limits, creating a large opening that leaves nothing to his already very active imagination. No one would fault him for bending the rules a little if they had any idea of the struggle of completing a single task around you in that forsakenly translucent top.

It's not a perfect solution, by any means, but he hopes it'll at least allow him to start thinking in his own damn lab again. Just a temporary fix, until he gets his feelings for you under control. You seem delighted by the present, so he figures he's fixed the issue in a relatively acceptable and satisfactory manner.

The next day, you show up with the jacket.

Only the jacket.

You've discarded the white blouse, and there's nothing but your bra underneath the piece of clothing he naively thought would solve all his problems. There’s now nothing stopping him from fully, openly gaping at your exposed chest every time you bend, or lean forward even slightly.

He's made it worse. So much worse. It's quite possibly his biggest failure as an inventor, because he's effectively trapped himself into getting a full face of your tits every time he even glances in your direction.

Viktor has engineered his own fucking demise with nothing but a jacket.

Next time, he's simply going to get you a full-body suit to wear around the lab; you know, as a safety precaution, for wielding sharp tools and participating in dangerous experiments. He wouldn't want his most efficient assistant to get hurt in a preventable work-related accident, after all.

It’ll protect him and his dwindling sanity far more than anything else, but you really don't need to know that.

[lunarsworld]

✩*ೃ.⋆ super great!

pairing: smallville!clark kent x f!reader warnings: MDNI, smut, oral (f!recieving) a/n: i love smallville n tom welling so bam

⋆｡° ✮ ⋆｡° ✮ ⋆｡° ✮ ⋆｡° ✮ ⋆｡° ✮ ⋆｡° ✮ ⋆｡° ✮ ⋆｡° ✮ ⋆

fortunately, your english teacher assigned a group project for the class to help you boost your failing grade. unfortunately, you were paired with clark kent. the boy was sweet and all but you knew he had a side to him that nobody knew. you tried to get it out of him many times, but never prevailed. clark whipped his head towards you as soon as your teacher announced your pairing. “well, this is gonna be fun, right y/n”, he taunted. you rolled your eyes and stood quiet. “meet me by my truck after school ends, we’ll go to my place afterwards. save us both the torture and get the project finished asap.”

“wake up, we’re here,” clark said, while nudging you. for a guy who was supposed to be your enemy, his touch was pretty gentle. you grabbed your backpack from the floor of the truck and followed him into the barn. you wandered around the room, assessing every detail. to anybody but clark kent, you would’ve looked like a nosy prick probably trying to steal something. but clark knew you were just curious and wanted to know more about him, even though he couldn’t figure out why. when you were done snooping, you sat on the edge of his bed and he joined you.

a couple hours later once the project was finished, you and clark found yourself watching the sunset from the barn window and sharing random life stories. you started a tangent around 10 minutes ago and clark hasn’t shared a word since, although he never minded because he’d rather hear you talk about yourself. all that’s running through clark’s mind though, at that moment, is when to make his move.

at this point, it’s completely dark besides the candles and lamps lighting up the room. you stretch in exhaustion and yawn. “hey y/n?” clark murmurs, his tone kind of hoping you don’t acknowledge his calling. you turn your head to him, waiting for a response, “yea clark?” when he makes eye contact with you he almost forgets his question. nobody knew the effect you had on him, unfortunately you included. “why do you care so much about me? like you act like you hate me because you think i’m different but i just don’t get it.” you shake your head and giggle lightly. “clark, i never hated you. i hate when people mask who they are for others. and i know you do. and i also know who you really are. i think you’re super great and you shouldn’t hide it,” you say and he smiles in the way that makes you melt every time. “you think i’m super great, huh?” he repeats and starts stepping closer to you. he places his hands on your waist and looks at your lips, then your eyes. you try to mutter out a response, but it’s like your whole body is frozen except for the heat pooling in your stomach. he laughs lightly and then pulls you into a kiss.

your tongues clash together passionately, as if they had been waiting all their lives to dance together. he slides his hands under your turtleneck sweater and plays with the hem of it. in response, you pull his shirt off and then yours. he lays you down on the bed and continues kissing you, trailing from your lips, to your jaw, to your breasts, until he reaches where you ache the most for him. but before he takes off your skirt, he looks at you for reassurance. you nod your head but he scoffs, “i need your words, angel.” “yes clark i want this, need you, please c’mon.” you whine. he unzips your skirt and slowly pulls off your lace panties with his teeth. he kisses along your thighs, avoiding the spot you need him. “clark quit teasing.” you humph. as soon as those words leave your mouth, his latches onto your clit. he slides two fingers into you and continues to suck on your core. you groan and twist your body, trying to escape pleasure even though you’re chasing it. “angel, you beg for me to give you what you want but you’re runnin’ away from me. c’mon baby i jus’ wanna make you cum.” he says as you look at him. you look so fucking gorgeous, covered in sweat and looking all distraught. all because of him. “can you be a good girl for me n’ let me make you feel good baby?”

you immediately nod your head and relax again. he continues to go at it and it feels like his tongue is working at a super speed on your sensitive nub. he feels your body start to clench around his fingers so he starts thrusting them faster and deeper. “fuck clark i’m cumming.” you whine. “i know baby i can feel your pretty pussy squeezin’ my fingers. cum for me baby, i gotcha,” he groans. as soon as he says that you come undone on his fingers. he wastes no time cleaning up every drop of your slick, making sure none of it goes to waste. he comes up face to face to you and pulls you into a kiss. you giggle and begin to reach for his pants. “whatcha doin angel?” he questions, even though he knows. “you helped me, lemme help you.” you say. clark knows your intentions are pure and you just want to get him off too. “how about next time? you need your rest hun.” he says and you pout in return.

little did you know he wouldn’t let you suck his dick because he was embarrassed. embarrassed because he already came just by eating you out. too bad that wouldn’t be the last time that happened either.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Ribbons

CW: light BDSM, some teasing, being recorded during sex, light praise kink. 18+ MDNI ~1.2k words

You never thought buying the dark, velvet fabric would lead to this. You didn't even have a plan for them initially, buying the ribbons more for the fact you liked the deep, red color that reminded you of your boyfriend rather than for an actual purpose.

Jason was more than happy to find a use for them. The smooth velvet criss crosses over your arms, twisting over your wrists into perfect knots, effectively tying your limbs to the headboard above you.

"So perfect like this, baby," Jason murmurs, fingers tracing patterns over every inch of skin he can reach.

He'd been like this for what feels like hours. Light touches, almost teasing as he touches everywhere but where you need him the most, "So pretty all tied up with my colors."

"Jason," You plead, almost begging as he trails the pads of his fingers over your inner thighs, ignoring the wetness pooling between your legs.

He hums softly, idly rubbing his palm back up your stomach to pinch your nipple, "I'm just admiring you, doll. Ain't nothing wrong with that."

You gasp, arching slightly into his touch as you tug at your binds, "You're teasing."

"I'm taking my time," he counters, hand finding purchase against your throat, not to squeeze, but to rest, counting the thrum of your pulse against his skin, "Enjoying my sweet partner."

You use your best puppy dog eyes, twisting against the knots locked across your skin, "You can enjoy me in another way, Jason."

He grins devilishly at you, eyes locking with yours as his fingers leave your throat to track the rise and fall of your chest, "I could, sure. But I'm too busy trying to memorize how you look right now, doll. Can't you be patient a little longer?"

You whine in protest, mind racing for a solution to get what you want, "You don't have to memorize me."

"I want to," he drawls dismissively, palming your waist to admire how his hand seems to swallow you up.

"No, I mean, you wouldn't have to," You start, voice quieting to a mumble, "if you had something to remember this by."

His hand stills against your skin, considering, "Yeah?"

"Then we both could get what we want?" You ask, voice pitching in uncertainty as you turn your head to the side, trying to hide the sheepish look growing in your face.

He taps your cheek, drawing your attention back to him, "And what do you want, sweet thing?"

"You," You breathe out, squirming against the ribbons holding you down, "want you."

He nods thoughtfully, idly stroking the velvet looped around your wrists, "where?"

"You know where," You huff, testing the knots again.

"Be specific," he suggests, lazily following the lines of your body down to your stomach.

"Lower," You nearly whimper, trying to lift your hips to guide him.

His hand comes to a stop against your stomach, spreading his fingers to press down lightly, "Here?"

"No, I–" You trail off with a groan, pulling at the ribbons again before meeting his sly gaze, "I want you inside."

His eyes light up, face all teeth and pride, "There you go. Good job, pretty. Knew you could do it."

He dips his head down to kiss you, swallowing every noise you make as he pulls your thigh up to his hip. He's distracting, head-spinning, and you fail to notice his free hand reaching for his phone as he kisses you senseless.

It's only when he pulls away, leaving a line of spit between you, that you notice him holding his phone up to capture your face.

"Smile, sweet thing," he purrs, and you do, eager to please. He coos at you, angling your face up with his fingers below your chin, "Look at you, all wrapped up in my colors and needy. Being so good for me."

He hums in approval, aiming the camera for your wrists before slowly tilting it down. The glinting lens captures your attention so fully, you almost miss him lining his cock to your dripping cunt, "Gonna keep being good for me, pretty?"

You nod quickly, "yeah– yes, gonna be good, so good–" he cuts off the rest of your mindless babbling when he eases his dick into your fluttering walls. It draws a needy, high-pitched whine from your throat.

He echoes your noises with a moan of his own, grabbing your waist with his free hand to hold you still.

Heat spreads across your skin, and the way his eyes seem to glaze over at the way you clench around him only makes you keen higher.

"Perfect," he groans, lowering the camera to capture every inch of his cock sinking inside you, "Taking me so well. Made for it, baby, made for me."

You mewl, tugging hard at the ribbons holding you down, "Jason, Jason, I wanna–"

"Shh, sweet thing," he soothes, slowly rocking his hips back and forth, his phone catching every drag of his cock, every noise your cunt makes, every movement you make to buck your hips closer to him, "I got you."

He finds the pace that makes your head falls back, pulls noise after noise from your lips, makes your eyes cross, and your words lose meaning.

He grinds his dick against the spot that has you seeing stars, and a knot starts to twist in your stomach, pleasure building higher.

Your babbling reaches a fevered pitch, matching his own blissed out groans. He rewards the way your eyes flutter at the camera with a harsh thrust, making your back off arch the bed.

"That's it, that's it," he praises, and his fingers find your clit to draw tight circles, until you soak his cock with your release.

He snaps his hips into your pussy until he finds his own climax, spilling inside you with a low moan, "Yes, so– so good for me, pretty."

He kisses you when you whine in response, and only pulls away when you're dizzy and panting.

He doesn't forget about the camera in his hand, though, focusing on the dazed, hazy look on your face before lowering his phone to where his dick is still twitching inside you.

He pulls out slowly, like he's relishing the way his and your cum drip out of you, the mess you made of his cock.

"Beautiful," he murmurs when he slips out.

He uses his fingers to gather up the mix of fluids leaking out of your gaping cunt and slowly pushes it back in, recording every second and every spasm of your aching hole, "You good, doll?"

"Mhm," You half whimper, and he finally drops the camera, expertly untying the knots on your wrists.

He lifts each of your hands, littering your skin with quick, soft kisses along the red marks covering your arms, "Wasn't too much?"

You shake your head, mind a little foggy, but no less euphoric, "No. Was nice."

He smiles at you, soft and adoring, before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, "Gonna get you cleaned up, sweet thing."

You hum contently, more interested in rubbing the soft velvet between your fingers, "Can we do that again sometime?"

"Course, doll," he agrees easily, carefully massaging the soreness out of your arms, eyes full of promises, "I'd cover you head to toe in your pretty ribbons, if you'd like."

"I'd like," You admit quietly, soothed by the softness in his voice, the gentleness in his touches.

Jason presses more kisses to the curve of your wrists, gaze locked on every motion you make with sheer devotion. His voice lowers to a hushed vow, "Whatever you want, pretty. Anything at all.”

[emmyc0z]

can I request some cute fluff with Astarion - I think something cute would be tav’s never worn a dress and they put one on and Astarion is just mindblow by how good they look? 🥺

maybe he can do some chivalrous acts as well~

She Looks Breathtaking

pairing : astarion x (fem) reader

summary : astarion has never seen you in a dress, you haven’t been in one since you were taken from baldur's gate. you both find it hard to hide your excitement.

warnings : none :)

authors note: I hope you like this anon! (first, i finally played baldur's gate. second, i'm going to try and pump out the requests that I haven't gotten to.)

“Oh! Look how pretty this is!” 

You turn your head to look towards Karlach’s booming voice, much too loud for the small space you were in. She held up a dress, something you hadn’t thought about wearing in months. You hadn’t had any important events to attend.

Walking over to her side, you take the fabric between your fingers. “It’s beautiful..”

“You should get it. I think you’d look great, and I bet Astarion would like it too.” She nudged at your side, teasing. Your face flushed, and you ran your fingers along the hem of the dress, avoiding Karlachs gaze. She likes to poke fun at the obvious crush you had developed on Astarion, and everytime she did you regretted telling her more and more. 

Eventually, you find a small paper attached to the fabric showing the price of the dress, eyes widening at the disgustingly low price. 

“When would I even get a chance to wear it? It would go to waste, just weigh my bag down.” Karlach huffs, taking the price tag and reading it for herself.

“Are you kidding me? Even if you don’t wear it, you’d be a fool to ignore this price. Maybe you will attend some noble party when we get to Baldur's Gate!” She was way too excited but her energy almost made you agree with her, the dress was so cheap even if it went unworn for a long time. And you hadn’t worn one in..you couldn’t even remember.

You thought about it for a moment before moving for your coin pouch, pouring the amount into your hand and handing the coins to the trader. They slip out of your hand much faster than you'd care to admit, hiding your excitement from Karlach proving to be a challenge. “Don’t say a word to anyone, Karlach, I mean it.”

“Fine. But I better get to see you in it, at least try it on for me when we get back to camp!” You shake your head, amused by Karlachs childish antics, but you yourself can’t help but feel a little bit excited by the idea of dressing up. 

When you returned to camp that night you had forgotten about the dress in your bag, slipping your mind amidst the constant thought of being attacked or having to talk your way out of a hostile situation. 

So when Karlach came bouncing over to your side, your tent tucked away in a corner secluded from most of your party to keep your privacy, you could only give her a confused look. She seemed so excited and you had no idea why, and she was beginning to return the confusion.

“You gonna put on the dress or just make me stand here?” Oh! You let your bag fall to the ground, crouching down to rummage through its contents, searching for the dress. 

When you found it you laid it over your bag, standing back up to remove the leather from your body. You could hear Karlachs giggles as you shimmied out of your much too tight leather pants, only to have to pull the dress over your body right after.

Your hair was up, but you untied it and allowed your hair to fall over your shoulders. When you turned back to her, she stared at you with awe. “Woah..”

“What?” 

“You look..nice.” You giggled, which made her laugh along with you, both of you unaware of the approaching footsteps. His eyes trace along your figure, and he allows himself a moment of greediness to take in the full effect you have. You seem so happy, a smile appearing on his cheeks as he watches you smile gleefully and so..so..carefree. You're finally allowing yourself to have fun, and not worrying about protecting everyone else around you. And Gods.. you’re breathtaking. 

He would never admit to a living soul, or a non-living one for that matter, but he had been infatuated with you since the moment you asked him to join your party. You made him weak, and with his newfound freedom he wasn’t sure what the correct way to deal with it was. Obviously he could use his charm to lure you into his bedroll, but he wanted more, he wanted to be the reason you felt giddy enough to show your teeth with a smile. He wanted to be the reason you laughed, and fooled around, the reason you felt safe enough to have fun. 

He takes a deep breath in, to regain his confidence and charm, and he proceeds towards the two of you.  

Until his voice filled your ears and caused your eyes to shoot in his direction, “Well well..don’t you look nice.” 

“Astarion!” He approached the two of you slowly, staring at you and paying no mind to Karlach’s presence. 

“I’m gonna leave you two alone..” Karlach let out an awkward chuckle, making eye contact with you with wiggly eyebrows before sneaking away.

You look back towards Astarion, who is unable to make eye contact with you as his eyes roam along your body, preoccupied. You're certain he doesn't even realise Karlach has left from beside the two of you.

“Where did you get this pretty thing?” He looks back up to meet your eyes, smirk big enough to show his fangs which sends a nervous shiver through your body. A tingle in your neck reminds you of the favour you allowed him. Your arms cross against your chest, suddenly more nervous in his presence than ever before. 

“Just something I picked up from a merchant..” 

“In all the time I’ve traveled by your side , I’ve never seen you look so.. elegant.” 

“Wow thanks..” You roll your eyes with a snort, crossing your arms tighter across your chest.

“Now c’mon darling..you know I mean you no disrespect. Only pointing out the obvious. May I?” At first you're unsure what he’s even asking permission for, but when you see his hands reaching out to touch you, you give him a nod. 

He doesn’t hesitate, hands finding your hips. “See…usually you’re wearing that menacing leather, always so serious.” Your face scrunches up at his words, you’ve never thought your armour to be very menacing nor did you believe you were ‘always serious’. Only when the situation called for it. 

The heat of his skin can be felt even through the fabric. His thin fingers squeeze into the plush of your hips, then run along your waist, feeling the fabric between his fingers. “But right now, in this dress, with your hair undone,” He brings his hand up to run his fingers through your hairs, “You look so free. You’re beautiful darling..so beautiful.” 

You feel your face relax, and it only softens more when Astarions eyes meet yours once more and his pupils are blown . The softest smile blossoms on his face, which turns out to be contagious cause not soon after a cheek burning smile is on your face. Face hot as you look into his eyes, his hands still on your waist, thumbs massaging your skin through your dress. 

“I should take it off, I don’t want to get it dirty.” 

“Could you humor me?”

“Humor you? How so, Astarion?” 

“Keep it on, just for an hour. It’s been a long time since I spent an evening with a woman as beautiful as you..” 

[nerdygirlramblings]

Meghan Trainor's "Wrap Me Up" has me feeling some kinda way

poly!141 x fem!reader

"We'll be home by Christmas Eve," John sighs. It's been a long mission, made even harder being away from you at the holidays.

"Oh, John," your voice catches. You will not let him know you're about to cry. You take a deep breath and put as much love as you can into your reply. "That's the best gift I could ask for."

Half a world away, he smiles at his phone.

~~~

Two weeks later and you receive word from base the boys landed safely, and Johnny textes when they leave so you wouldn't be spooked when they troop through the door. That gives you a 40 minute window to make sure the gift you arranged is wrapped and under the tree.

You'd ordered takeaway from everyone's favorite kebab place. You know they would have preferred home cooking, and if it weren't so close to Christmas, you would have had a whole roast going for them, but you put effort into their gift and want it to be perfect.

You dash to the bathroom, arranging your hair to highlight the big red bow. Your makeup is understated, a barely there, natural glow accentuated with some gold glitter near your eyes.

Finally, you pull on the lingerie set you'd bought just for this. Red and lacy with ribbons holding most of it together. You'd practiced putting it on a few times already, making sure you could secure everything. As you tie the final bow, the one that held your breasts in, you dust more glitter across your collar and cleavage.

You are already wet, and the boys won't be here for another fifteen minutes.

You know how to take care of your boys, and this present was going to be as much for you as for them. You hadn't had a good orgasm the whole time they were gone. Even the toys they'd gifted you, molded from their cocks, weren't enough. Yes, they'd been together and thus not in so much of a dry spell as you, but you also knew quickies on cots and hand-jobs in the field were a far cry from what they wanted. What they craved. What they deserved.

A nice night at home, fucking, cuddling, and reconnecting would make everyone feel better.

You hear gravel crunch in the drive and lay yourself out on the area rug in the living room, white lights twinkling in the spruce behind you and a fire crackling behind the grate. You're grateful the house has a slight entryway with a wall hiding their Christmas surprise from immediate view. As a final touch, you turn on the radio low to some traditional holiday music.

The door opens and you hear bodies shuffle in, thuds as they drop their gear and remove their boots.

"Bonnie!" Johnny calls, tired but you hear the relief in his voice too, "We're home! Where are ye?"

You pitch your voice to carry over the music. "I'm in the living room." You watch their shadows move, and then there's a body in the doorway. It's Simon, his face bare in the safety of your home, searching for you and effectively blocking the others from seeing anything yet. He doesn't think to look at the floor, so you lightly say, "Happy Christmas, Si."

His eyes snap to you, and you watch the change come over him. He goes from weary to energetic in an instant. "Why isn' this a nice present," he says as he stalks to you. Kyle and Johnny follow him in and track his movement, clocking you immediately.

"God, doll," Kyle sighs. "What a sight you are." He too has a spring in his step you're sure was not there a moment ago.

Johnny moves so fast he's on his knees next to you before Simon reaches you. He stretches a hand out to pull the end of the ribbon across your chest, but you smack it away. When he pours, you simply say, "This is a present for everyone. No opening it without John."

"Oi, Cap! Get cher arse in here!" he bellows. Kyle and Simon are fully in the room, kneeling like Johnny, hungry, revenant looks on their faces. They haven't tried untying anything, but their hands twitch. You can tell they'd like nothing better than to pull open the bows and ribbons and lay you bare.

John finally comes in, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Until he finally pulls himself into the moment and sees you on the floor. His back straightens, shoulders unfurling. He stands larger in his frame. There is pure want in how he looks at you.

"Welcome home, Captain. Happy Christmas," you say, smile stretching wide. He starts walking as you continue. "You boys have been so good, I thought we could start with presents first this year."

John shoulders his way past the others, taking a space immediately in front of you. The others shuffle around to give him space and access.

"You said our return was the best gift you could ask for. Well, you're the best gift we could ever get." He leans forward and captures your mouth in a searing kiss, one hand on your head and the other going to the bow Johnny tried to undo.

The others take it as permission to finally unwrap their present.

[xiakato]

Danielle - All Over Again (M)

Casual sex. Something that has become commonplace for many, maybe a little too common. You have people having body counts well into 100s. But for some, sex is more dear, a sacred act that one does with another that they truly love. A difference in opinion is most certain to happen. For Danielle, she holds the connection made through making love close to her heart, almost to a fault. Even though she’s only been with one person, that person holds their place in her heart and soul. She stares at the wall of the dressing room, her mind filled with replays of them and her. 

“Please Daddy~” She pleads and moans as their hands grip her tiny waist as they take her from behind. The way she fills so full with them inside. Her moans fill the room, one hand grips their forearm, the other the sheet. A position she is all too familiar with, under him. Her black lace panties were pulled to the side, she wore his favorite. Black, lace and see through. She knows the effect she has on him no matter what she wears but that set always did the most,”Fuck,” her throat hurts from moaning, they been at it for hours. Condoms ran dry, a new experience for her, taking him raw. 

“Fuck Dani,” His voice low as he grunts, she feels him throb inside of her. She knew he wouldn’t pull out, he held her down pushing himself as deep as he could without hurting her, “Would you have my babies Dani?” his whisper drives her crazy, all she could do is nod. 

“Danielle?” Hanni taps her shoulder, getting her out of her day dream, “Are you okay?” 

Dani looks around realizing she has been rubbing her thighs together, “I’m fine, I just need to go to the bathroom,” Hanni doesn’t seem convinced but nods as Dani rushes to the bathroom, taking a deep breath, locking the bathroom door. Her safety shorts are pulled down, her panties soon follow, “Shit,” She runs her fingers through her folds, drenched within seconds, dripping with her fluids. She only gets this way with him. The replays go through her mind again, her slender fingers slide inside of her, she covers her mouth to hide her whimpers. Opening her phone, she pulls up a video of her and him. He filmed it as he took her hard, her fingers frantically chasing her orgasm. Trying to keep quiet, as a puddle forms on the floor, her legs quiver as she cums collapsing over the sink. She quickly gets herself together and cleans up.  

“Dani, are you really okay?”  Hanni asks again when Danielle gets back to the room, “You were in there for quite awhile.”

“I’m fine, something just didn’t agree with my stomach,” Dani says, slightly smiling as she sits down. 

“If you say so,” Hanni shakes her head and the rest of the day goes on without incident. Even months go on without her thinking about him. Even started talking to a new guy, he just wasn’t him. She tried and tried yet she kept comparing them. She dropped him when he wanted to go further, they barely talked for a few months and yet he wanted that. Luckily for her, the day they were leaving for a few overseas schedules came quick. Unluckily for her, she took a quick glance while they were boarding the plane, and she swears she saw him. The man that plagues her mind,body, and soul. She ignores the nagging feeling, she occupied herself with her members. That lasted just enough to get off the plane. 

“I’ll catch up to you guys, I need to rush to the bathroom,” Dani says, taking off in his direction. 

“But Dani, the bathroom is the other room,” Minji screams out, watching her run off before sighing, “This girl.” 

Danielle’s eyes frantically search through the sea of people, typically she could find him because he is taller than anyone else but the people here are his height so she’s having a harder time. She spots him, rushing over as quickly as she can. 

“Y/n!” She yells out, making him look over at her, as she stands there, anger boiling in her blood. 

“Elle~” He smiles looking down at her, he can tell she’s angry. 

“Don’t call me that,” She stares at him, anger slowly fading as her deep rooted feelings start to take over. His perfect face in her eyes, his fit body that hides under those clothes of his, “Why did you leave?” 

“I didn’t want to get in the way of your dreams,” He stares back, “My my my, just as beautiful as I remember.” 

“Shut up Y/n,” She looks away trying to hide her face, “You know that you wouldn’t have gotten in the way of them.” 

“I would have, I know myself Dani, even if I didn’t mean to, I would have.” 

Danielle feels like he’s lying to her, she always had a good feeling for when he wasn’t being truthful. She can’t handle it, it’s not good for her right now. Shaking her head, she turns to leave, running into Minji. Minji’s eyes are filled with hate and disdain as she stares at Y/n. 

“Why are you here?” her voice filled with anger, shaky yet firm. She’s holding herself back, “I warned you not to bother her again.” 

“I’m not here to bother her Minji, I’m here because I live here, duh.” His smile never leaves his face, sadistic almost. 

“What do you mean you told him to not bother me?” Dani asks, curious by what Minji means. Snapping Minji out of her anger, quickly looking over at Dani then back at him, smirking as he backs away. 

“Not like that… wait, you don’t know the real reason why he left?” Minji inquires, stopping herself from defending her words. Dani shakes her head, making Minji sigh, “This will be harder to explain then.” 

“Girls?” Their manager finds them, “We need to hurry, our rides are waiting and we have a time limit.” 

“Manager-nim, tell her the reason,” Minji pushes the explanation off to another. 

“The reason for what?’ 

“Y/n.” 

“Oh fuck no,” The manager starts pushing them to the van, “We aren’t going to talk about him right now.” 

Danielle is lost right now, what do they know? Her mind thinks and thinks never coming close to a possible outcome. She stares into space even after they arrive at the hotel, the night overtaking the sky, the moon swallowing the sun’s light. She sneaks out of the hotel, the rest of the members are asleep, surprising her. Being back in Australia should’ve been more exciting for at least Hanni. She knows he’s in the city. It’s Friday, at midnight. She knows exactly where he will be. Finding a taxi was luck on her side, at first the driver was reluctant to drive where she wanted but after a hefty payment upfront he was more than happy to after they settled with a drop off a block away. The smell of burning rubber filled her senses along with the sound of music and engines. Taking a deep breath relishing in the smell she grew accustomed with over the years. 

“Well well well, look at what the cat dragged in,” A voice comes over the music with a megaphone, The person jumps down from their seat, “The little princess is back. First the king, now you.” 

“Shut up Nath, where is Y/n?” She asks, looking around, new faces, new cars, nothing really of note. 

“You hurt me so Danielle, you know where he is, you always do,” He chuckles going back to watching the drifting, the eyes she felt on her was she walked through the crowd was nothing new to her, she looks at some of the cars, enjoying the vibe of the car scene. She finally finds him once again, at the pool table, surrounded by the cars. One of them being his, it looks like just how she remembers it, the pristine white wheels going perfect with the black paint. 

“I see you still have the GTR Y/n,” She says, getting the people's attention. A few she recognizes. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say you were just here to enjoy the cars, Elle,” He turns to look at her, her hoop earrings, her crop top, tight jeans, “Brings back memories,” he says, checking her out.

“Eyes up here dipshit,” She snaps her fingers, “We need to talk Y/n. A serious talk.” 

He turns back to the pool table, taking his shot ,”What is there to talk about?” 

She steps in front of him and the table, looking up at him, ignoring the flashes of what happens when she typically does this, “Everything.” 

He sighs, handing his pool cue to someone, “Get in,” he says as she’s already at the passenger door. The two get in, she feels the start of the RB26 course through her body. 

“I see the seat hasn’t moved,” She quips, smirking to herself. 

“No one was allowed in my car other than you and still is that way,” he drives slowly through the crowd of people moving to the side, making way for the GTR. Getting to the street, he steps on it, throwing their heads back. Heading to the highway, he slows down, taking in the lights illuminating the night skies. The ride remains silent, the sound of RB echoes through the night. Her hand instinctively falls to the shift, holding his. The two say nothing as they relish the silence, none of them want to ruin the atmosphere. The scenery changes as they head to a spot, a spot they frequently went to. Overlooking the city, they are brightened by the headlights. 

“Why did you leave Y/n?” Dani asks again, “Not the bullshit reason, or the reason you think will hurt me last, the real reason.” 

“Your company forced me to,” He stared at the city, the concrete jungle, “They said I was too distracting and they knew for some reason that we were sexually active. Couldn’t take the risk.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me Y/n? I would’ve stopped them,” She makes him look at her. 

“I didn’t want you to lose everything you worked so hard for,” he smiles slightly, grabbing her hand, squeezing it. 

“I would’ve given up my dream if it might I would lose you,” Tears fell from her eyes, he wiped her tears, as he always did, “Why did Minji say that to you at the airport?” 

“No clue, my guess is that the company came up with something different,” he keeps holding her hand. 

It seems like she got her answers, but now she has more questions. She holds his hand, the familiar touch that she longed for. Staring out at the city, they stayed out there catching up, falling in love again, till the sun started raising. 

“I should probably take you back to the hotel,” He says, getting his keys out of his pocket, sitting up from the grass. 

She grabs his arm tightly, “I don’t want to go back,” She pulls him back to the grass, “I want to spend more time with you.” 

“But Dani, you have a concert today. One of which I have tickets to, I can pick you up after the concert if you want me to.” 

  She sits up quickly, getting on top of him, “You promise?” her eyes shining brightly with a smile as bright as the rising sun.

“Promise,” he offers her his pinky, which she takes quickly, giggling. They finally manage to get to their feet. Heading to the car, Danielle’s phone rings. She lets out a sigh as she gets into the car with him. 

“Hello,” She says, already knowing what they are going to say. 

“Where are you?” It’s her manager, a good manager though a bit too much at times. 

“I’m out, I’m on my way back right now though,” She smiles looking over at him driving.

“You better not be with who I think you are with,” The tone of her manager’s voice noticeably changes, always when Y/n is the topic.  

“So what? I’ll be meeting you guys at the arena instead, It will be faster,” Dani hangs up, not wanting to hear more. 

“So to the arena?” he takes a glance over at her leaning back in the seat. The frustrated look on her face tells him everything he needs to know.  

“Please baby,” he hasn’t heard her call him that in what feels like decades, eons even. He switches lanes, speeding up. Her hand falls back into place with his as they weave through traffic. The ride once again was silent,everything has been said. Merely enjoying the time that they had together is what’s left. 

New Jeans arrive at the arena, waiting outside their entrance for Dani. The rest are waiting patiently while Minji paces. Worry evident on her face, their company never liked Y/n and after what she heard from them, she didn’t either. Judging by Danielle’s reaction to everything that transpired, even though it was rather quickly. She didn’t get 100% truths, her pacing didn’t stop when a loud car came screeching to a stop in front of them. 

“Uh oh, I know that car,” Hanni says, taking a look, “This isn’t going to be good,” She quickly takes the other two inside. Dani hops out of the passenger side, a bright smile and all. 

“Where the fuck were you,” Minji storms over, anger trumping her worry, examining her outfit causes her to get more angry, “And what the fuck are you wearing?” 

“I was with Y/n, learning the truth,” Dani states simply walking past, ignoring the rest of Minji’s questions. Avoiding the manager and focusing on the concert was her only priority. The concert simply couldn’t start fast enough, luckily her accomplice Hanni helped her find a hiding spot. She spent her time talking to Y/n, selfies and all. He made her feel something, like he always did. Her day went faster and faster, till it was time for the concert. She performed her absolute best, the best she ever has. The encore felt great for her as well. The stage was on fire for her, she loved every second of it. 

Walking back to the dressing room, “Where did that come from Dani?” Hanni asks, hooking their arms together. 

Dani giggles and whispers into her ear, “Y/n is here,” Hanni looks at her with a knowing face, the two giggle to one another. Minji stares at the back of the two girls, she continues as she watches Danielle gather her things quickly, thanking the staff on her way out.  

“Dani, you have to stay here,” Minji finally says, stopping her in the halls. The surrounding staff stops and looks at the two girls. 

“I don’t need to stay anywhere, I did what I needed to do and now I’m leaving,” Dani keeps walking, ignoring the many looks. 

“You’re going to get in trouble with the company, I don’t want that,” Minji follows her, through the sea of busy workers. 

“The company meddled in something they shouldn’t have, making me feel like absolute shit. So Honestly I don’t care about the company right now,” Dani reaches outside, there he is waiting. If it wasn’t for the lights she couldn't be able to tell, she starts to jog slightly reaching the car, getting in with ease. Minji can just stand there looking on in disbelief as the car drives away. Dani’s smile is bright, as her hand is holding his hand tightly, “Did you enjoy the Concert Y/n?” 

He nods, taking a slight glance over at the gorgeous girl in his passenger seat, “I did, you were perfect tonight,” He kisses her hand, smiling as he gets on the highway. 

“I’m so happy,” She giggles, and thinks for a little bit, “Should we do something stupid?”

“What do you have in mind?” he asks as she starts laughing to herself pulling out her phone, getting on the New jeans instagram.  

“Just drive,” She says finally, as turns on the cabin lights, starts to take a video showing everything as she leans on his arm. She puts my hype boy as a little text, posting it on their story. She giggles, turning off her phone, “So your place?” 

“As forward as always Dani,” He chuckles, her lips grazing against his arm, her free hand rubbing his leg, moving to his noticeable bulge. 

“I know you can’t resist me,” She nibbles on his earlobe. He drives on double time, rushing to his place. Trying his best to ignore her teasing, pulling into his driveway both of them hurry out. He couldn’t unlock the door fast enough, as Dani locks his lips into a kiss. The feeling of her soft supple lips is enough to send him into a frenzy. The door finally opens, he tosses his keys somewhere and kicks the door close. His hands roam her body, his all familiar touch down her spine, sends shivers throughout her body. He moved away from her lips, her neck was his target. Finding her weak spot was no effort, her hands latch onto his hair, “Fuck Daddy,” she moans out as she feels his teeth sink ever so slightly into her neck. Danielle pulls away from her neck as she sinks to her knees, getting eye level with what she’s been yearning for. She kisses the outline through his slacks, her eyes flutter feeling the girth between her lips once again. She works on pulling them down, freeing his cock, letting it rest on her face. Peppering kisses up the shaft, her eyes look up at him not leaving him. He always loved it when she would look at him while she sucked his cock.  She finally takes him in her mouth, his taste is even better than she remembers. One hand on his balls, the other stroking his shaft as she sucks on the tip. 

“Fuck babygirl,” One of her favorite nicknames from him, she pushes him deeper in to her mouth. Danielle feels his hand latch onto her ponytail, using that as leverage to push himself deeper into her throat. She gags but doesn’t pull away when he does it for her. She coughs, spitting on his already spit covered cock.

“I haven’t done this since you Daddy, sorry for the gagging,” She smiles innocently as she licks around his cock, leaving the occasional kiss. Her kisses get more sloppy, spit dripping from her lips leaving a mess on the floor, “What do you want me to daddy?” she says, guiding her lips up and down his shaft, “Call me what you did, I know you want to.” 

He pulls Dani up by her hair, “Bend over slut,” She giggles bending over the couch, wiggling his ass at him as she slowly pulls her jeans down. Leaving the lace panties, “You wanted this, didn't you?” 

“More than you think Daddy,” She pulls her panties, as her pussy drips with anticipation of what’s to come. He slaps her ass, “Again please daddy,” he complies, slapping her ass more till it’s red. She reaches behind spreading her ass, “Please fuck me daddy, Please I need your cock so badly,” She pleads and pleads until she feels your tip enter her followed by the rest of your cock, “Oh fuck! That’s what I needed, I feel stretched out and so full.” 

He starts thrusting, the sound of skin on skin echoes throughout the house, followed by her moans and screams, “Fuck I missed this pussy,” Y/n says between his grunts, squeezing her ass. Taking her the only way he knew, Hard and rough and she wouldn’t have it at all. He quickened his pace before suddenly pulling out, making her squirt all over the floor, her legs shaking threatening to give out. He holds Danielle up by her hips.

“Keep fucking me please daddy! Fuck me till I can’t walk tomorrow,” She pleads again, he shoves his cock back in, she’s still just as tight, “Yes daddy! Give me that cock,” Her hands grip on the couch tightly as he fucks her with reckless abandon. Pulling on her ponytail, smirking as he sees her eyes rolled back. Y/n keeps his pace, getting deeper and deeper inside of her. Her legs have been shaking for a few minutes now, He pushes as deep as he could before cumming. Filling her to the brim, her eyes come back around and widen, as he slowly pulls out as she falls to the floor trying to catch her breath.  She looks up at him, his cock still standing proud, glistening her juices. She crawls over taking him into her mouth, cleaning his cock. Y/n chuckles looking at the eager girl. Pulling out of her mouth, he walks to the bedroom, Dani follows him crawling. He pulls her from her ponytail on the bed, spreading her legs, “Give me more daddy~” She giggles pulling him closer to her and she whispers, “Let me have your kids daddy,” His mind goes blank as he scrambles to get back inside of her. Slamming his cock in and out of her as they fight for dominance in their kiss. She longed for this feeling again, his body on top of hers, him using her in any way he wanted.  She cums over and over again on his cock, she doesn’t stop him. She wants this, she needs this. She feels him throb inside of her, “Give me your cum daddy, I want to feel it fill me up again~” 

“Fuck dani,” he moans out bottoming out in her pussy filling her up again, pulling out and collapsing next to her as she giggles rubbing where her womb would be. She cuddles up to him, kissing his chest. As sleep takes them over, his seed drips out of her, dirtying the sheets even more. 

Breaking News: New Jeans Danielle is pregnant?!