#I thought I should share some tips here

[eggs-are-my-passion]

how to communicate with your child as an autistic parent:

ask them to be clear about their emotions. Midori confuses me a lot sometimes cause they aren't very open about everything, but whenever they feel sad or mad about something I did, they draw a face on one of my eggs so I know I did something wrong.

be open with them as well. Midori used to scream a lot when they got angry and it always made me feel bad and I'd usually end up curled up in a ball crying, which helped no one, so they learned to not scream and instead, move around, walk as they talk. This helps them calm down and keeps them from shouting.

and most important of all, listen to them. Most of the time your child only wants attention, someone to vent to, someone to talk about their problems. Don't go around like some parents do telling their children that wtheir feelings don't matter because "there are people in worst situations" or "I am too tired to deal with this", because they'll close up to you and might end up leaving you behind once they leave your house. Listen to their complaints, share knowledge on how to deal with them if they need it, treat them with respect, love and kindness.

[tonycries]

Freak On The Cam! - C.K.

Synopsis. Choso always loved watching you - his pretty lil’ camgírl - from behind the screen. Who knew he’d love being on-screen with you even more?

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, camgírl! reader, spítting, Choso has rings and piercings, first times + loss of vírginity (Choso’s), oral (fem receiving), exhíbitionism, DOWN BAD Choso, cúmplay, use of “ma’am”, Sukuna is a menace, víbrators, light jealousy (Choso’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 6.5k

A/N. Meant to post this last week but hehe here we are. Also I’ve GOT to stop using Unc-kuna so much lmao.

“Wanna see a movie or do you wanna make one?”

Choso was screwed. Completely and utterly screwed. So badly, in fact, that he might as well just wipe off every trace of himself online and go into hiding - preferably forever.

All because he had been so stupidly careless as to leave his phone unattended for exactly 1 minute and 47 seconds around Sukuna. 

In the time it took Choso to raid the kitchen for his favorite brand of cereal, his uncle had managed to open his Twitter (because “that’s where all the juicy stuff is”), stalk your pretty page at the very top of his last searched, and send a god-awful pick-up line that would probably get him blocked. Or worse.

Damnit, he knew he shouldn’t have made his password Yuji’s birthday.

“Ya should be thankful I didn’t DM her myself, brat.” Sukuna chuckles, not even a shred of regret in his tone, way too amused with how Choso was frantically trying to tackle the phone out of his hands. “What’s the harm in asking? Such a pretty camgirl, n’ you look like you need some good pu-”

“She’s also my classmate.”

“Kinky. Even better.” 

No, not “even better”. God, this must be some kind of cosmic joke, and Choso just wished the Earth would swallow him up whole right now - and maybe his phone along with it too. 

It had taken him almost a whole semester to work up the courage to just sit next to you during your shared lecture. All gorgeous with your bright smiles, and your smart mouth. And Choso was very much content to admire you from afar - and from behind his phone screen, of course.

Never following, never liking. Never tipping you off as one of your hundreds of thousands of fans.

And now, not only had Sukuna revealed that he’d found your secret Twitter account - the one with those sinful little clips of yourself that had Choso opening the app way too much - he’d also propositioned you. Like some creep.  

“Ugh. This is why women hate you.” Still desperately grappling, he spits out more to himself than Sukuna at this point. “B-besides, she’s never even gonna respond any-”

Ping!

And the Itadori household had never been quieter. Never, on a random Saturday during spring break. Never, as the two men crowd the phone, jaws dropped and staring wordlessly at the singular message on screen. You. 

“Let’s make one ;)”

---

“So s’not a stream this time, jus’ a video. Is that okay?”  You hum from your desk, glancing at the man seated on your bed as he hastily nods along with whatever you said. Looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. 

Weird. 

It had only been a few days of back and forth since you’d gotten that first text - the one that you’d honestly thought about blocking like the thousands of others. But there was just something about it that made you stop, something that had you clicking on the profile to delve a little deeper.

It hit you like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact - that this was someone in your class. Someone you knew. How the hell did he even find this account? 

You knew Choso as that sweet - albeit slightly gloomy - kid that sat next to you, always quick with his answers and even quicker to look away from your gaze, no matter how hard you tried to spark a conversation. You’d just guessed he was afraid of you or something.

So nothing could’ve prepared you for how ridiculously attractive he looked in that profile picture, all smug grins and dark locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner. Shirtless, giving just a peak of- oh god, were those nipple piercings?  

Could you really be blamed? You just had to have him.

But, here - it was like he was just itching to run away at the first chance he got. 

“You’re not held at gunpoint, y’know.” you giggle at how he startles at the mere sound of your voice. The mattress dips as you stop fiddling with the camera to sit next to him, thighs flush against his muscled ones. “Are you sure you want-”

“Yes.” 

It seems that both of you were surprised by the abrupt response. Too quick. Choso clears his throat, cheeks flaring as he tries to dredge up some semblance of dignity, he drawls lightly. “I mean- Yes.”

You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the way his chest rises and falls rapidly as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - nothing quite like the suave impression his pick-up line gave off. 

But so irresistible just the same.

“Well…Cho.” you bat your lashes, voice dropping to a seductive whisper - not too heavy, for now at least. “Then why won’t you even look at me?”

Alas, Choso was not a strong man. 

Maybe at your words, maybe at that playful little nickname you gave him, he’s finally raising those dark eyes to look at you. Twinkling with- fear? anticipation? A flicker of something so dangerous as his gaze sweeps greedily over that tight dress you put on just for this occasion. 

Choso tries to ignore how sinfully it hugs all your curves. Or the way it would look a million times better on the floor. 

This was absolute torture. 

And God he thinks he could pass out right then and there as you lean in closer. Too close. The temperature in the room suddenly increasing by about 10 degrees as you purr, tone careful and balanced. “Much better. And now…” 

His breathing becomes heavier, eyes flickering downwards. Once. Twice. 

And you know you’ve got him in the palm of your hand. 

“...all you gotta do is touch me.”

Yeah, if Choso thought he was going to pass out before then he definitely wasn’t ready for those dangerous little words. Ones that have him shaken right to the core - fighting that urge to just take you how he’s imagined all those lonely nights.

“You- huh?” he lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he crosses his legs with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, desperately trying to will away the blood rushing straight to his throbbing cock right now. 

But how could he? Not when you only shift closer, barely even a hair’s breadth between you two - relishing in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. Such an adorable pout playing on your lips as you mutter, “Do you not want to?”

And he did. Oh, how he did - has been imagining it for the past five months, in fact. And Choso lets you know, a little twenty times, actually, as the words spill panickedly from his lips. 

“-idiot trying to set me up and I’ve been dreaming of fucking you for so long but I’m just-” Heat rushes to Choso’s cheeks, as he abruptly shuts the fuck up. But it’s too late - the damage has been done.

You give him a wry smile, lips mere inches from his ear. “Just what?”

His breath hitches, muscles rippling so deliciously as he shudders beneath your touch. “I’m a-” Choking out - as if it physically hurts to  admit - “-virgin.”

Oh. 

Now, you might’ve expected many things - but certainly not this. Though, looking at the cute flush on the tips of his ears, all the way down to those big, needy eyes, you don’t mind. Not one bit.

With one, quick glance at the rolling camera - your mouth is moving before your mind. “Do you want me to…do something about it?”

And then it’s like something snapped. 

You don’t know who leans in first, just that Choso’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - how could you not? 

Because goddammit it was always those pretty lips that you were staring at whenever he was spouting off answers in class. You just never expected he’d be kissing you back with such an infectious desperation. 

No sooner are you thinking about how sweet his lips are before he’s pulling away with a soft sigh, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. Your neck. Back to your lips like he wanted everything and anything.

You gasp licks a long, languid stripe up your neck - maybe at how utterly obscene it felt, maybe at that sharp cold feeling that makes you flinch. Fuck - a tongue piercing? The noise makes Choso’s mouth drop into a quick oh! surging forward to claim your lips again. Addicted. 

Only to be stopped by your hands cupping his face, letting out a pained grunt at how he was so close. Just a hair’s breadth away from your lips.

“Cho~ Open your mouth, baby.” you whisper, hotly. 

And he looked so pretty - dark hair askew, lower lip swollen and quivering with need, brows furrowing because he wanted more of your taste. But he obeys, of course he does, Choso thinks he’ll do anything you asked. And lo and behold, sitting right there in the middle of his tongue was a pretty silver piercing.

You just can’t help but thumb open his mouth further, looking him right in the eyes as you spit in his mouth. Once. Twice. 

“Bet no one else has done this before, huh?” Grinning at how sinfully Choso’s eyes roll to the back of his head at your taste, “Kiss me proper now.”

God, you were so good at throwing away whatever was left of his poor sanity. And it’s all that’s said before his kiss-bitten lips are crashing into yours again. 

“No. No one’s hah- done that before. Only you.” he’s panting into your open mouth, swirling his tongue with yours. “F-fuck only you. Only you only you-”

You barely even realize the way you’re on his lap now, sitting so prettily there that Choso half-deliriously wonders whether he should take a picture. Mind spinning too much with his throbbing erection under your drenched panties, a damp little patch at his fat tip. So hot and heavy already.

“Cho, do you want me to-”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You certainly don’t have to be told twice - especially with that little nickname. Fiddling with his belt, you’re so hazy with want - the need to taste Choso, to see if the rest of him was as sweet as his lips - that you almost miss the look of confusion that flashes across his face.

You bat your lashes at him almost-innocently, “You alright?” And Choso thinks he could cum right there and right now at the sight. If he wasn’t currently battling for his life, that is. 

“Yeah, s’jus’- what I wanted hah- was to…” His hands sneak down, cupping your heated pussy through your drenched panties. “-taste her. ”

“Oh?”

“Are y’gonna teach me how?”

Oh. Fuck.

You know you’re fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.

Only moments later, Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress, face-to-face with your sloppy pussy. So mean with the way he was pinning your hips down with one hand, all but ripping your panties off with the other. 

You feel his piercing before his tongue. Both the hot and cold so maddening on your cunt as Choso licks long, lazy stripes up your puffy folds - dragging his hot tongue all the way from your base. Just grazing your swollen clit. 

“Teach me- fuck fuck-” words muffled and slurring together, vibrations going straight to your pussy. “Use me. Use me how you want.”

You’re threading your fingers through his dark locks before you even realize it, grinding your sloppy cunt all over his waiting mouth. “Quirk your tongue like- ngh-” Angling him close enough so he bullies his soft tongue into your tight pussy. Piercing massaging all the right places. “Fuck-”

“Like this?”

“Sh-shit,” you gasp, nodding deliriously. “S’too ngh- good.”

And by God, did you mean it. 

“Yeah? Y’like this?” he’s groaning, wrapping his lips around your swollen clit. “Can feel you clenching around me. Shit shit shit, you love this, huh? So slutty on camera for it?” 

Getting wetter and wetter by the second as his tongue roams for that one-

“Oh! F-fuck, Cho. Right hngh- there. Deeper-”

Ah, found it.

Choso grins as you tug on his soft strands, you can feel it on your throbbing pussy. Pushing your legs all the way till they’re at your tits to hit that little spot each and every time. Again and again. Eyes glassy, torn between devouring that slutty expression on your face and how fucking drenched you were. 

“Shit, baby,” his words are so strained now, like his sanity was dancing away at each flick of his tongue. “You’re drooling everywhere. See? Show the camera now.”

You don’t have to look. Because you can feel it.

Can feel how wet his mouth is, just glistening with slick and saliva. Trailing all the way down his chin - to his wrist - only second to how sloppy your dripping cunt was. It was like he was getting messy on purpose, like a little reminder to himself that shit this was you and he was eating out your pretty cunt to insanity-

“Oh my god, think m’hooked.” Tongue dragging all over your swollen folds, catching on his piercing. “Think your pretty lil’ pussy’s hah- driving me crazy. Ruined me, Fuck-”

And it’s so embarrassing how he’s talking you through it, grinning at every lil’ whine and whimper that leaves your mouth. You were acting all shy right now in a way that makes Choso’s cock twitch so painfully. He barely even notices, though, with the way he was so drunk off your pussy. 

So messy - unable to decide between rolling his tongue over your ravaged clit and dipping into your sloppy hole. Too much. In and out in and-

“Faster.”

He goes faster. 

“H-harder.”

He goes harder.

Anything and everything for you - to keep those pretty moans falling from your lips, walls getting tighter and tighter around his tongue. And Choso might just consider himself a man addicted.

“Can you ngh- cum f’me, baby?” You flinch as he spits out the words into your cunt. Harsh. Fucked-out. Sounding just as delirious and breathless as you. “Cum f’me please. Wan’ to taste y’on my tongue. Please. Fuck- need it so bad. So bad.”

You’re so caught up in Choso’s pussydrunk little babbles that you barely even realize when you’re cumming. Just that you’re letting out a strangled scream of his name, dragging your sloppy pussy all over his mouth. 

And he has never seemed more blissed out. Long gone is that nervous little expression usually on his face around you, Choso looked like he could be suffocated in-between your legs right now and love it. Hope for it, even.

He tells you that, of course. As soon as you’re blinking back your vision, blood still roaring in your ears. Delicate strings of slick snapping where he parts from your quivering cunt, lips swollen and glossed so prettily with your sweet sweet juices. 

“Baby, y’think the video of lesson one came out good?”

Oh. Shit, what have you done?

---

That certainly wasn’t the last time you saw Choso - or the last time you had him in front of a camera, either.

A few weeks later, you found yourself with an entire album for the man - a hidden treasure trove under the simple name of “Cho <3”. Most of the videos favorited, all sorted so tediously in a way that showed you spent an obscene amount of time looking at all the ways he ruined you. 

So filthy on camera that you always wondered whether it was the same person in the sheets and in class, texting Choso for later. Just to confirm. 

But embarrassingly, only some of these videos made their way onto your Twitter account - with Choso’s pretty face largely out of the frame. The two of you hadn’t ventured into streams yet either, opting to hide him away. Because, okay, maybe you were slightly jealous of other people seeing him - but it was really hard not to be when he looked like that.

In spite of all that, you’d still gained a casual hundred thousand more followers since his appearance - ones who always commented on your solo streams asking where your “hot emo bf” was.

Comments you’d pointedly ignore, because, hell, you wished he was here on-stream helping you get off, too. Yet despite the endless flirting and videos, Choso actually hadn’t made it further than actually holding a full conversation with you. And you wanted more. 

For all you know, you might just be one of his many trysts - and it was just for the videos, right? You get the content, he gets the experience? A win-win situation, so why have you never felt more like such a loser?

Such a loser the way you’ve already lost count of the “lessons” but still haven’t gotten to feel him - to fuck him the way you wanted just yet. 

“S’alright if I take this, right, ma’am?” He smirks during one such session, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. Dangling your drenched panties like a badge of honor, flimsy and soaked with your sweet sweet juices. “S’alright if I-” And he can’t even finish the sentence. Your jaw drops as Choso raises the thin fabric to his face, breathing in your essence like a man possessed. 

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“You’re so filthy, Cho-” you manage to choke out once you find your voice. Squirming on his bed like such a slut for him. “Was the innocent thing just an act?”

“Nope.” he pops the p, licking lewd little circles on your neck, thumbing open your puffy folds to watch in amazement at the way you glisten and clamp around his fingers. Eyes flickering briefly to the recording phone in his hand. “But we gotta give ‘em a good show, huh?”

Right, you’d forgotten about the camera. But none of that matters anyway because-

Intensity setting 2.

“You’re so mean, too.”

“Am I?” he grins, teeth grazing along your racing pulse. “I think you taught that to me, baby. Shit, lesson 8 it was?”

God, he was addictive.

Choso’s having way too much fun playing around with the intensity setting of the bullet vibrator shoved inside your ravaged cunt. Sending quick, methodical vibrations all along your pulsing clit. In time with the breathless moans leaving your kiss-bitten lips, and it’s all you can to call out for- more? Mercy? Both? 

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“God, you’re so perfect. Shit, so messy f’me.” he groans, and you could tell that the video wasn’t going to be uploaded anyway. Too shaky, focusing in and out of Choso’s fingers. Knuckle-deep and pumping in and out of your filthy hole. Relentless. “Almost makes me wanna show off to an actual audience.”

“Maybe I want to, too.” you muse, shifting at his heated gaze. Dangerously pressing your thumb over those nipple piercings you’ve gotten to know so well lately - as if to support your point. God you wish he’d take off that snug shirt.

Intensity setting 3.

“That so?”

And no matter how many times Choso’s ruined you on camera - and watched the videos over and over afterwards - he always thought they weren’t enough to capture your perfection. 

“Such a slut f’me, baby.” To capture the exact moment in which your wet lips fall into a soft little oh! when he massages your walls in time with the pulsing vibrator. To capture that absolutely sinfully excited little glint in your eyes as he ruts his clothed erection against your pussy. “Y’always this dirty?” Quickly turning into a look of slight panic at the sudden jingle of keys from the front door. 

“Yo, brat. Where the fuck are ya?”

Ah, there he was, the reason that Choso usually locked his bedroom door whenever you were over, even if he was home alone. 

Intensity setting 4.

As the silence continues, so does Choso’s abuse on your cunt. In fact, he only gets more erratic - like he wanted you to cum. Needed you to cum right now, right here in front of Sukuna, footsteps only growing louder. Nearer.

“Cho-” you fight to get out the words. “He’s hah-.”

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“Can’t speak? That’s cute.” he coos, voice way too relaxed for someone whose mind was reeling with the realization that he couldn’t remember if he locked the door this time, and how adorable you sounded. Enough so that it made some raw, primal part of him wanna pull down his pants and fuck you right here right now. Cockblocks and his own virginity be damned. “C’mon now, use your words like a good girl. Tell the camera.”

Cocky bastard.

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“Close!” you yelp, unsure of whether you were talking about yourself or the looming Sukuna. Jaw slack, tears springing into your ears as you look up at Choso. “So close.”

God, you were addictive. And this video was definitely going in both your favorites.

“Mhm,” he hums, movements getting hastier. More desperate. “I know, ma’am.”

Intensity setting 5.

That’s all that it takes for you to cum, letting out a loud strangled moan of Choso’s name. Or, you would’ve - if it hadn’t been for the way he’s shoving two, thick fingers into your mouth.

Silencing you - and in your hazy brain you think that if this was his way of shutting you up, then you really didn’t mind. Because all you could taste was you and the cold, cold metal of his rings. Somewhat intoxicating.

“Shhhhhh.” he’s breathing out, still mindlessly grinding his hips into yours. Though, you realize with a pang that today won’t be the day you get to feel that achingly hard erection straining his pants. “These pretty moans aren’t for him, hm?”

Pressing on the back of your tongue, smirking at the way you nod tearily up at him, moans still muffled. Hell, do you even know how sexy you’re being right now.

“Mhm, all f’me. All for fuckin’ me.”

Knock! Knock! Knock! 

“Why the fuck are you locked up in here on a Saturday night?” Sukuna sounds impatient, but not surprised. Probably imagining all sorts of dorky things his nephew was doing to hole himself up in his room. “Come out n’ get this takeout- what’s left of it anyways.”

And with that, it’s like the magic is over.

Your high only just bating before Choso’s hurriedly ending the recording on a hazy still of your disappointed pout, cursing Sukuna for his impeccable timing. 

Slightly concerned about the door being broken down and someone else seeing you in all your fucked-out glory, he hastily moves to grab the spare cloth by his bedside. Cleaning you up with hushed promises of “sending the recording later”, and “s’alright, he’ll be gone soon.”

Close. You were so close.

A win-win situation - but you’ve never felt like more of a loser.

---

“By God, I never thought he’d get the balls to do it.”

You yelp in surprise at the deep voice from behind you, whirling with a defiant brandish of Choso’s (your?) keys. He’d given them to you a few lessons ago, saying it would make it easier for you to come and go from his apartment as you pleased. Which - to you - felt dangerously like something a boyfriend would say-

But that wasn’t important right now.

What was important was the older man suddenly towering over you right outside Choso’s front door. Big arms crossed over his chest, that leering smirk clashing with his pink hair. “I knew it was odd that brat had a pair of heels by the door.”

Shit. Sukuna.

Ryomen awfully-wingman-his-nephew Sukuna.

“Spill.” At your confused head tilt, he plows on. “Spill the tea. I need new blackmail on my lil’ nephew. How badly did he have to beg you to go out with him?”

You don’t know what was more bizarre - what he was saying or the way he actually pulls out his Notes app as if hanging on to your every word. 

“I-It’s because of you.” you manage to choke out, unsure of what Choso has told his family about you.  Eyes flitting between him and the door right behind you, sounding your very best not to sound just as guilty as you felt. “You’re the reason we have this weird…thing.”

A beat of silence passes. One. Two. 

And just as you’re beginning to wonder whether you’ve broken Choso’s infamous uncle, he throws his head back and laughs. Laughs, right in your face, sounding like he’d just heard the funniest punchline in the world. 

“Oh that’s hilarious.” he exclaims, wiping a mock tear. Cackles dying down as if he was suddenly aware that maybe Choso would hear and walk in on this impromptu interrogation. “Damn, that awful pick-up line is why you started fuckin’? I thought it’d get that sap blocked so he’d stop stalking your account so much.”

“No, we…” you hesitate, mind reeling with what Sukuna just admitted, and how bad it would really be that you’re divulging your sex life to a relative of the guy you’re fucking. Before thinking fuck it, might as well confide in someone. “...we’re just doing stuff for-” putting up air quotes. “-content.”

“Just content?”

“Just content.”

“And you like that fool?”

Your face burns at how glaringly obvious it apparently was, “...Yes.”

This seemingly sets Sukuna off on another wave of uncontrollable laughter. “Ohh, thanks for the blackmail on that emotionally-constipated brat.” Typing away on what you assume to be his Notes, he promptly turns to walk away, “See ya around, doll.”

“Wait!” you call after in confusion, making him stop and raise a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to like- I don’t know, give me advice for your nephew or something - like a good uncle?”

Scoffing, “Who said I was a good uncle?” He leans in ever-so-slightly, “Jus’ rock his world on camera or somethin’ n’ ask him out right in the middle.” Satisfied with being enough of a decent samaritan for today, he walks back with a half-wave, “He’d listen to whatever you say anyway.”

Oh. Is that so?

And Sukuna probably meant it as some joke. Something to tease the both of you with - but it’s something that sets the gears going off inside your head. Something that had you ignoring Sukuna’s slightly panicked, “Jus’ not too soon, I needa bully him with this first.”

---

You didn’t listen to Sukuna’s little plea, of course. Because only a few days later you’d steeled yourself to finally send that one text you knew would change your relationship with Choso. For the good, hopefully. 

You: 9pm my place. Get ready, cuz this time we’re gonna be live ;)

Cho <3: :0 

And with that, you’d thrown your phone on the bed, jittery about later tonight. Browsing through your wardrobe for that one set of barely-there lingerie in his favorite shade of pink. Hey, you could never be too prepared, right?

Nothing could’ve prepared Choso for this moment - absolutely nothing at all. 

He might’ve just died and gone to heaven the very moment he read that dangerous text - finally inviting him to join one of your streams. The ones that he’d always watch in the safety of his bedroom, lights dimmed, pants bunched around his ankles. 

Cock just achingly hard in his fist while he wished he was with you behind the camera. Getting you off so much better than any sextoy would. Just forcing those pretty moans from your lips - and everyone else could see that. Wish it was them ruining you instead. 

Alas, it was only a dirty little fantasy. 

Until now, that is.

slvt4u: Holy shit boyfriend reveal, about time.

uniwhore: THIS is the hottie from Twitter????? 

itsgenslut: idfc just fuck

“Nervous?” you smirk, looking down at the man sprawled so prettily on your bed. “You look just as close to an aneurysm as you were the first time. Though-” snaking your hand down, “-this is still the same as ever.”

You chuckle at the way Choso catches your lips with his, more to shut up those pathetic little moans threatening to escape him than anything. Because every glance at you in that sinful little pink bra gave Choso a mini heart attack. 

“B-baby-” he gasps, grinding his clothed erection against your palms. “I wan- hah-”

“Mhm?”

And God how you’ve ruined Choso - run him so utterly dry of his sanity.

Because he’s angling your head down, piercing cold against your tongue. “Spit.”

It was like that first time had gotten him addicted. So you do - right into his waiting mouth. Jaw dropping at the way he tips his head back, back, back to let it slide so obscenely down his throat. Moaning at just a taste of you, “God, I need to f-fucking ruin you.”

And if there’s anything you’ve learned after all these months with Choso, it’s that anything he says - he does.

The words have barely left his mouth before he’s pulling your bra off, ripping your panties easily off your hips. Each and every little regret about what a shame it was thrown out the window at the first sight of your pretty pussy. 

It never gets old - and Choso could never get enough of the sinful sight - your cunt so sloppy and ready for him already. 

“Cho-” you whine as ringed fingertips coming up to circle your sloppy entrance. Cold. Stretching you to insanity. “S-stop teasing.”

“Yes, ma’am. But first-” shifting you around ever-so-slightly on top of him. “Gotta show off how wet y’are f’me.”

uniwhore: did he just call her “ma’am”?? Me when??

roses101: idk who i wanna be they’re both so fucking hot ugh

“Fuck, y’look so sexy from this angle. Wonder if the camera thinks so too?”

Your face slightly burns at how he was seemingly taking over your own stream. Smug bastard, you think, glancing down at Choso, red-faced, hair untied, wearing a sly grin as his eyes slide over the flurry of comments. But two can play that game. 

“Cho~” fumbling with the hem of his underwear, “You’ve been holding out on me.”

A gasp leaves you involuntarily as you tug down Choso’s boxers just enough for his throbbing cock to spring free, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Blushed your favorite shade of pink - to match your bra - so so angry and soaked in precum. 

He was so intimidatingly long - longer than any of those toys you usually brought on camera. Thick enough that it had you wondering, shit, would you even be able to take it?

“S’this a-alright?” and for all his previous confidence, Choso sounded self-conscious. Peeking at you through his long lashes.

You grin, pumping a hand up and down his swollen cock, letting his precum drip down your wrist. “S’perfect.”

“God- fuck, baby. Oh-” Choso lets out breathless little profanities as you straddle his waist, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy as you sink down in by fucking in. Slowly. “Too- much-”

Apparently too slow because no sooner have you just taken in his fat tip, squeezing and clenching around him, that Choso’s flipping the both of you over. 

“M’sorry.” he breathes into your mouth as your back hits the mattress. “M’sorry m’sorry, fuck- just can’t-” fingers immediately drawing frenzied little circles on your pulsing clit to take your mind off the dizzying stretch as he bullies his massive cock into your snug cunt. “Can’t wait can’t wait- waited too fucking long. Want this so badly-”

You felt too good. Too perfect around him. 

“Ah! Hngh- Cho, oh my god. Too- ngh-” you moan, as he starts grinding in shallow, mindless little movements just to fit himself inside. Pushing and pushing, you wondered if he even realized what he was doing.

Sounding like his sanity was dwindling away with each little thrust, “S’too big? You can take it. Fuck fuck fuck please. Need this.” Pressing all the way into your lungs. “How do you wan’ it- how do you wan’ me?”

Honestly, Choso didn’t even need to ask, because he just bottoms out - heavy balls smacking against your ass, cock swollen and throbbing inside you - that you think that you just wanted him to ruin you. 

“R-ruin?” his voice breaks as he repeats - more to himself than you. Oh, shit had you said that out loud? You’re speechless as Choso throws your legs over his shoulder, dragging his swollen lips lazily across your ankle. “Yes ma’am.”

Oh. You might as well have just signed off your will. 

Because then he’s fucking into your sloppy cunt. Unforgiving. A man starved because he was. Jagged, quick thrusts, splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his rock-hard cock. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” he pants into your open mouth, finding it so fucking difficult to find any rhythm when your tight cunt was milking him so good. “You feel so good. So messy. Ya love it like this, huh? Being hngh- watched?”

“Hngh-” you buck wildly into his body, reaching up to play coyly with his nipple piercings. Tugging and pulling lightly. “Feels too good- are- ah- are ya sure this is your first time?”

Honestly, it was a wonder Choso didn’t cum right then and there. 

Tojisslvt: need someone to fuck me like this the first time

22sabi: Typing with one hand is so hard.

DaStrongest: i could fuck her so much better than than inexperienced loser

Choso throws his head back in a cruel little laugh at that last comment, something that makes you tingle all the way from your burning cheeks to your stuffed cunt. Clamping down deliciously on Choso’s unforgiving cock in a way that makes his hips and fingers stutter. 

“Ya think you could fuck her better?” it takes you a second to realize he was talking to the camera and not you. Thrusts getting sloppier, getting familiar. “I’m the one that got her so messy like this.” Purposeful. Calculated. Like he was aiming for that one-

“Fuck!” you scream as he hits that magic spot. Once. And then over and over like a man possessed. Just so utterly ruining you the way you knew he could. “Cho oh my god- I can’t hah- ngh-”

The cold metal of Choso’s rings dig into your cheek softly as he turns you head to face him. God, this was the stuff of his wildest dreams.

You - teary eyed and looking up at him like such a slut. Pussy getting wetter - tighter - as he teases you in front of the camera. Torn between running away from his relentless cock and bucking up for more more more-

 “Fuck no no no- Keep your legs open, baby. Don’t hah- run away from me.” his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. “Don’t- need this. Need this so ba- shit.” 

And he sounded so genuinely worried he’d lose the feeling of your heady cunt. Fingers bruising on your hips as he pulls you closer. Like he was trying to fuck out any and every shred of shyness out of your body. 

slvt4u: Always the quiet ones.

DaStrongest: heh, fuck off. i’d make her cum so much harder.

Now, Choso was fucking you like he had a point to prove, and it was probably the only reason he hadn’t passed out from how good your pussy felt wrapped around him. 

Both of you were barely-lucid at this point - and he was out of control now.

Pussy drunk thoughts unfiltered, “No one’s ever d-done this- got me hah- feeling like this.” And you had the distinct feeling he just beat you to your original goal, letting out sweet little babbles into your open mouth - though his hips were anything but. 

So hard that you were sure the creases of your sheets would leave marks for tomorrow - along with his balls on your ass, your ankles on his shoulders, lips searing against yours. It was like he wanted to prove something - to prove he was good enough to- the viewers? To you? 

Knowing your body well enough to hit that one spot over and over until you were sobbing. Fingers erratic on your clit. 

“Cho-” you squeal, tears springing to your eyes as he only gets sloppier. “I-I’m gonna-”

“Cum?” he breathes, as if he couldn’t believe it. And fuck if you weren’t the gates of heaven spread wide open for him then he didn’t know what was. “Fucking cum. Please please- hah- f’me. Cum on m’cock n’ make them jealous. F’me- Like you’re mine.”

You barely even realize when you are. Jaw slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you see stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. God, he was gonna have to go home and rewatch this stream all over again. 

“Ngh- m’cumming m’cumming oh-”

Not even realizing the way you’re dragging your nails down Choso’s sculpted back. Marking up his milky skin - and he lets you. 

Loved it in fact- the way he loved you. 

Your eyes go wide, and Choso knows he’s fucked up. Realizing with a jolt that words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. But it’s the way you squeeze him tighter- giving him such a gorgeous little fucked-out smile that sends him over the edge.

Sharp canines digging into the crook of your neck like he wanted to break skin, holding himself back from breaking you while he cums and cums so hard it hurt. Over and over-

“Love you- love you love you love you-” he’s muttering into the skin, unbarred. “Since I first saw hah- you. Wanted this more than fuck fuck- air that I breathe.”

His seed was oozing out of you now, painting your ravaged pussy white, dribbling down your legs.  So fucking full and debauched. Thick, hot globs that were sure to stain those overpriced new sheets. But did Choso care for the mess? Not at all. 

Because you were holding him so impossibly tight, pushing away the strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Whispering little praises as he fucks you through his first time. Close. Warm. Everything he ever dreamed of.

“S’everything I ever dreamed of, too, Cho.”

And he knows he’s won. 

urfavslvt: Proudest nut. Want more.

uniwhore: does this mean couples content??? Pls say yes plsplspls

DaStrongest: invite me next time <3

“Thought you were embarrassed.” he licks soothingly over the bite. Voice shot, piercing smooth against his tongue. Embarrassing little confessions leaving him with each spark of electricity running through his veins. “Thought you didn’t stream w’me cuz of that- but shit. Dreamed of this f’so long. So long-”

Oh?

“Hey, Cho.” your voice rings through his hazy mind. Just enough for Choso to raise his head and meet your intoxicating, sultry gaze. Giving a sly, sidelong glance at the still-blinking camera. 

“Mhm?”

“Wanna film a week’s worth of ‘movies’ in advance?”

---

Sukuna (do not answer): Oi shitty nephew, where r u Jin made me come over with (half) leftovers.

You: Sorry, not home. At the movies rn.

Sukuna (do not answer): When tf do u go to movies?? 

You: Since now, on a date. You probably can’t relate.

Sukuna (do not answer): Stfu n’ stop lying, a date with who? Ur body pillow?? Not like u had the balls to ask out that pretty lil’ camgirl anyway.

Haha

Right? 

You: *girlfriend

Sukuna (do not answer): Huh?

You: Girlfriend.

Sukuna (do not answer): THE FUCKIN’ PICK-UP LINE WORKED??

A/N. This came out a LOT longer than expected. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[hoshifighting]

— Synopsis: Where you “unfortunately” caught your best friend's roomate—your unsaid enemy—masturbating in their shared apartment. — WC: 4.6k — WARNINGS: smut, monster cock!seungcheol, explicit language and content, overstimulation, dry fucking, oral as a tongue massage (f. receiving)—a reward <3, body fluids (cum), dry humping, cock riding, dumbfication, degradation, aftercare, exhaustion, and DIRTY TALK.

here’s how it always goes with seungcheol:

you walk into a room, he immediately finds something to scoff at. maybe it’s the way you dress, maybe it’s the way you talk, maybe it’s just the fact that you exist in his general vicinity. but it doesn’t matter what you do—he hates you. or, at the very least, that’s what he insists on showing you.

joshua, your best friend and possibly the only person in the world who can tolerate both of you without losing his mind, always tells you to be the bigger person. “he’s not that bad,” he says, as if seungcheol didn’t practically hiss at you last week for sitting on his side of the couch.

but whatever. you don’t go out of your way to piss him off, and he doesn’t go out of his way to be nice. that’s just the way it is.

which is why you hesitate when joshua calls you:

“i swear, i wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. i left my keys at your place before i flew out, remember?”

“okay, but i literally don’t want to step foot in his apartment,” you stress, cringing at the thought.

“it’s my apartment, too,” joshua deadpans.

you groan, already feeling a headache coming on.

“just go in, grab the folder on my desk, and leave,” he insists. “cheol probably won’t even be home.”

which is how you find yourself standing outside their apartment door, holding joshua’s keys and hyping yourself up like you’re about to enter enemy territory. which, in a way, you are.

you unlock the door, push it open,

and immediately wish you hadn’t.

seungcheol. on the couch. fisting his cock.

your brain short-circuits. like, full shutdown, blue screen, cease all functioning mode.

the man is spread out—legs wide, head tipped back, theres a drop of sweat that drips from his neck aand land in the middle of his chest. hes exposing his toned abs that clench with every up and down of his hand. and his cock is huge. thick from the base to the top and flushed deep red at the tip, veins prominent as his fist works over it.

he’s so lost in it that he doesn’t even register your presence at first, not until he finally cracks his eyes open and sees you standing there, frozen stunned into silence.

the next few seconds happen in slow motion.

his eyes widen. his entire body stiffens. his hand stops.

“WHAT THE FUCK—”

seungcheol scrambles to cover himself, reaching for the nearest thing—which, unfortunately for him, is a shirt that does nothing to hide the absolute tent he’s pitching. his face goes red, splotchy from the neck up, and he looks so flustered that for a split second, you almost feel bad.

“why the fuck are you here?!” he practically barks at you, voice ragged from whatever the fuck he was doing before you ruined his life.

you blink, still processing the image that’s now burned into your brain for eternity. “uh. joshua?”

“what about joshua?!”

“he… he needed a document.”

seungcheol lets out a sound that is so frustrated, so exasperated, that it almost doesn’t register as human. “and you didn’t think to knock?!”

“why would i knock?! i didn’t think anyone would be jerking off in the living room like a fucking pervert—”

“IT’S MY APARTMENT.”

“IT’S JOSHUA’S TOO.”

“HE’S NOT HERE.”

“WELL, NEITHER AM I, NOW.” you turn on your heel, hand reaching for the doorknob. “i’ll just get the doc later—”

but before you can escape, he rasps, “don’t you dare tell joshua about this.”

you pause. smirk. oh, this is fun.

back still facing him, fingers still wrapped around the doorknob. you should leave. should pretend none of this ever happened. but something—some sick, wrong part of you—doesn’t want to.

so you turn. lean back against the door. cross your arms.

“what?” he snaps, shifting on the couch, the shirt still pitifully draped over his lap.

you tilt your head, dragging your gaze slowly down his body—his hard nipples, the taut muscles in his arms, the way his thighs tense like he’s fighting the urge to close them. you can see the way he twitches under the shirt.

“you’re still hard,” you note, your voice syrupy sweet, but your eyes gleam meanly.

seungcheol tenses. “so?”

“so… you’re mad at me for walking in,” you say, cocking a brow, “but you’re still hard as fuck.”

he grits his teeth, but his silence is loud as hell.

so you take a step forward. just one.

his breath hitches.

“cheol.” you coo at him. “you sure you hate me?”

he glares, but it’s weaker now, faltering under your scrutiny. you can see it—the slight tremor in his fingers, the way his pulse jumps in his throat, the way he’s not telling you to stop.

so you take another step.

and another.

until you’re standing right in front of him, the shirt the only barrier between his cock and your eyes.

his jaw tightens. “don’t.”

“don’t what?” you murmur, reaching forward to trace your fingers over his wrist—the one that was just wrapped around his cock. “don’t call you out? don’t get closer? don’t—”

in a flash, he grabs your wrist, yanking you down.

you gasp as you land on his lap, his hands firm on your hips, his cock pressing against your ass through the thin barrier of the shirt and your clothes.

his lips are right by your ear when he growls, “don’t fucking test me.”

you shiver, but you’re not scared, you’re thrilled.

so you shift, pressing back against him, and smirk when he lets out a sharp breath through his nose.

“or what?” you whisper.

his grip tightens. “you really wanna find out?”

your fingers curl into his hair, tugging just enough to make him hiss.

“yeah,” you breathe, lips brushing his jaw. “i do.”

he snaps.

the shirt under you is gone.

his mouth crashes into yours, hot and angry, his hands gripping your waist like he’s trying to burn the shape of you into his palms. his teeth nip at your bottom lip, his tongue prying your mouth open, swallowing the gasp you let out when his fingers dig into your hips.

you grind down, moaning into his mouth when you feel just how fucking thick he is, leaking against your skirt. 

his hands are rough when he yanks your skirt up, bunching the fabric around your waist with no intention of letting it fall back down. you barely have a second to breathe before his fingers push past your thighs, finding the front of your panties hooking his thumb into the damp fabric and pulling it to the side.

the rush of cold air makes you gasp, thighs trying to snap shut, but his thighs pins them open. and maybe, he has a shred of decency in him, because he lets out a low breath and murmurs, “this is gonna be rough.”

no warning. just that.

you should stop him. you should tell him to go slow, to prep you, to at least spit on it—but you don’t, you need to feel this big cock stretching you until every single thought inside your head gets completely erased.

there’s no lube, no prep besides the mess between your thighs, just the torturous process of sinking down.

seungcheol watches all of it. watches the way your lips part, how your lashes flutter, how your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders the lower you go. he’s leaning back against the couch, one hand gripping the plush of your ass, the other wrapped around his base, guiding you onto him like you’re something delicate. like he’s trying to help.

but he’s not.

because he knows what he’s doing when he taps his cockhead against your clit first, dragging the tip through your slick, coaxing out little whimpers that make him smirk. he knows what he’s doing when he presses up, just the tip slipping inside, barely enough to be satisfying but more than enough to make your thighs twitch.

your breath catches in your throat, your whole body twitching up as you take the next inch too fast. your brain is empty, your body is working on instinct, thighs shaking as you brace yourself against him, trying—failing—to push down further.

and he sees it. sees how you’re struggling, sees how your muscles twitch like you’re about to give out, sees how you want to take it but your body is fighting the stretch.

so he helps.

his hands clamp down on your waist.

and then he slams you down.

the sound that leaves your throat is so ruined that he cant help but feel a bit of compassion.

because suddenly you’re full. suddenly you’re sitting completely in his lap, completely engulfed in him, your thighs flush against his, his cock buried so fucking deep that you can feel it pressing up against every nerve inside you.

but when you try to move, try to lift yourself even an inch—nothing.

your thighs won’t cooperate. your muscles won’t listen.

you can’t move.

“oh?” seungcheol tilts his head, smug grin curling at his lips as he grinds up, watching the way your mouth falls open at the sensation.

“too big for you, baby?”

you whimper.

“thought so.”

and then he takes control, because you can’t move—so he does it for you. his hands lift you effortlessly, dragging your hips up before slamming you back down, setting the pace, forcing your body to take what it’s given.

and you can’t think straight anymore. every thrust knocks the air from your lungs, every time he slams you down it punches little whimpers from your throat that only make him hungrier.

“awww… thought you were so tough. but you can’t even fuck yourself on my cock, huh?”

you cry out, body giving up, melting against his chest as you desperately try to follow his rhythm, hips twitching with little, pathetic attempts to keep up. your body isn’t even yours anymore—just a toy, something for seungcheol to use, something he’s breaking in with every brutal roll of his hips. 

his fingers dig into your waist, gripping you so tight it hurts, but the pleasure drowns it out. you’re so deep into it, into him, that every ounce of shame has left your body, every shred of dignity gone. because you can’t do anything but take it, can’t do anything but let him use you like you were made for this.

he tilts his head, watching you fall apart, watching how your thighs tremble with every slap of his hips against yours.

“damn,” he laughs, licking his lips, voice mocking. “you’re making such a fucking mess of yourself.”

you whimper, forehead pressing against his collarbone.

and then he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“mm-mm, don’t hide now,” he says, smirking. “be a good girl and let me see that dumb little face while i ruin you.”

a sob rips from your throat, high-pitched and wrecked.

he groans, grinding up into you.

“fuck. bet the neighbors can hear you, huh? joshua’s gonna be so fucking embarrassed when he gets a noise complaint for his dumb little best friend getting dicked down like a whore.”

your whole body jerks, a whimper escaping your lips at the humiliation, the filth dripping from his tongue.

and he sees it.

his grin turns cruel.

“oh, you like that?” he taunts, thrusting up so deep your back arches. “you like knowing that you’re loud enough to make it everyone’s fucking problem? that you’re such a good little fucktoy for me that i can’t even keep you quiet?”

you nod, because you can’t lie. his fingers tighten around your jaw, his lips brushing against yours as he coos.

“poor little thing.”

he thrusts up again, so hard, so deep that your whole body bounces, hands scrambling against his chest, voice cracking in a choked-out sob.

and he moans, deep and satisfied, because you’re so fucking perfect for him. because your body is his to use, to mold, to ruin.

“joshua’s gonna kill me c-cheol.”

his hips snap up again, knocking the breath from your lungs.

“but you’ll tell him it was worth it, won’t you, baby?”

he smooths one over your back, pressing down so your tits rub against his burning skin, while the other stays firm on your hip, keeping you still. your body jerks with every pulse of his cock inside you, twitching as you flutter around him, so overstimulated you can’t tell where the pleasure starts or ends.

“s-seungcheol—” his name is nothing but a broken cry, muffled against his neck, but he’s relentless. he doesn’t even let you finish, just shifts his knees slightly and thrusts up into you with all the power in his core.

“fuck,” he hisses when you clamp down, crying out into his skin, and he wraps an arm fully around you to hold you up. “shh, baby, you’re being so loud.”

his hand snakes up your back, fingers tangling into your hair, forcing you to lift your head. you meet his gaze, and it knocks the breath from your lungs. he looks fucked, mouth parted, sweat dripping from his hairline, chest heaving, but he still manages to look at you like he’s about to devour you whole.

“c’mon,” he coos, tilting his head, his grip tightening just enough to make your scalp tingle. “tell me it was worth it. tell me how good my cock is.”

he punctuates it with a sharp snap of his hips and you keen, trying to lift yourself, trying to relieve some of the intensity, but your thighs betray you. seungcheol laughs, breathless but smug, and his fingers press bruises into your skin as he maneuvers you like you weigh nothing.

“see? can’t even move, huh? my poor baby,” he murmurs, voice syrupy sweet, his free hand cupping your cheek now. “you’re just gonna sit here and take it like the perfect fucktoy you are.”

heat prickles at your skin at the words, your brain too fogged up to be embarrassed, too fucked out to do anything but let him guide you. he rocks you against him, making sure you feel every inch of him dragging against your walls, rubbing at all the right places, pressing into you deeper than you thought was even possible.

“you take me so well, baby,” he praises, leaning in to press his lips against yours, just enough to tease. “so fuckin’ tight, so warm—fucking heaven.”

his hand slides between your bodies, two fingers finding your swollen, neglected clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over it. the sensation makes your thighs twitch, your nails dig into his back, a fresh wave of tears pooling at the corners of your eyes.

“shhh, i got you, baby,” he whispers, kissing your jaw now, your temple. his fingers on your clit work in time with the slow, torturous grind of his hips. “i got you, yeah? you gonna cum for me? hm?”

he kisses you full on the mouth when you sob, swallowing the sound like he wants to keep it forever. and then he speeds up just a little, rolling your clit with more pressure, meeting every rut of your hips with a firm thrust up.

you shatter.

your whole body seizes, a strangled moan tearing from your throat as you clamp down so tight on him that it sends him tumbling over the edge with you. he groans, long and low, holding you so tight against him that you can feel every pulse of his cum inside you, hot and deep. his hips jerk once, twice more before he stills, forehead pressed against yours as you both gasp for air.

it’s quiet for a moment, the only sounds are the distant hum of the city outside the window, and the soft squelch when he finally shifts, making you both moan.

your body trembles like a leaf caught in the wind, and seungcheol drinks it in, the heat of your overstimulated form twitching against his chest as he presses slow, lingering kisses into the curve of your neck. his lips move down, sucking at the pulse point that hammers beneath your skin. your breath stutters. his fingers, nails just barely grazing, trail down the arch of your spine, featherlight but enough to make you shiver. you barely even realize you’re moving, the last bit of strength in your boneless limbs used to weakly push yourself up, to let his cock slip free from where it’s buried inside you. 

the second it leaves you, your body gives out. you collapse right into his chest, heavier than before, spent and trembling, the exhaustion hitting all at once. you can’t even pretend to be embarrassed about it. you just sigh, your lips brushing the base of his throat as you settle against him, body limp.

seungcheol holds you steady with both hands, like he’s afraid you might melt right into the couch and disappear. his broad palm cradles the back of your head, fingers splaying across your scalp, scratching at your roots. he keeps the other hand wrapped around your waist, thumb stroking absentmindedly against your ribs. the tension in his body hasn’t left yet. his shoulders are still tight. you know him well enough to know what’s coming before he even says it.

“you good?” 

you hum in response, nuzzling into his chest as your fingers curl weakly against his pecs. “just a little sore.”

he exhales through his nose. shifts beneath you. you can feel his fingers flex where they rest on your waist, like he wants to squeeze but holds himself back. then, with zero effort, he grips the back of your neck and lifts you up, just enough to force you to look at him. your lids are heavy, half-lidded, dazed, and fuck, that shouldn’t make him feel so possessive, but it does.

his thumb sweeps across your cheek, his jaw tensing. “shit. i’m sorry,” he murmurs, eyes scanning over your features like he’s searching for anything more than just exhaustion. “lemme take care of you, hm?”

you don’t have it in you to resist, don’t even want to. you let him move you, let him handle you like you weigh nothing as he lifts you from his lap and shifts you onto the couch, laying you down as if you’re something delicate. and maybe you are, now, after the way he ruined you. maybe that’s why you don’t fight him when he presses your thighs apart, watching as they just fall open on their own, spread wide like a doll.

you don’t have the strength to do much else than whimper softly as his thumbs spread you further, gaze locked onto your swollen cunt, still so slick from where he fucked you. his jaw clenches.

you don’t even get a warning before he moves in, before his hands grip your thighs to keep them open as he dives between them, mouth sealing over your clit in one slow stroke of his tongue.

you jolt, a weak little gasp punching from your lungs. your fingers barely find the energy to tangle into his hair, and the grip is nowhere near as firm as it usually is, but he groans anyway. whether it’s from the feeling of your grip or from the way you instantly react to him, you don’t know. but he doesn’t stop.

his tongue moves slow, warm and so fucking wet as he licks broad, flat strokes over your sensitive flesh, working you open again with patience. he isn’t trying to overstimulate, isn’t trying to get you off again—though you can already tell it wouldn’t take much. his focus is entirely on easing the ache, on massaging every tender inch of you with his mouth, his lips, his tongue.

“feels good?” his voice is muffled against you, but it vibrates in just the right way.

you nod, breath hitching when he sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue rolling it in slow circles. your body twitches, heat curling at the base of your spine. “cheol…”

he moans against you, and presses you down harder against his face. your hips jump, an embarrassing whimper breaking free as his tongue dips lower, tracing around your entrance before dragging back up, collecting every bit of slick along the way.

you whine, fingers curling tighter in his hair. he doesn’t tease. doesn’t prolong it. just keeps his pace slow and steady, gentle enough to soothe, firm enough to keep you on the edge of something, even if you’re too sensitive to chase it. and if the way he’s grinding his hips into the couch tells you anything—it’s that he’s just as affected as you are.

he’s not eating you out to get himself off, but fuck if it isn’t working.

the obscene sounds of his mouth working between your thighs filling the entire apartment, mixing in with your breathless moans and the way he groans right into your cunt. you don’t even have it in you to be embarrassed about the way your cum is smeared all over his chin, his jaw, his cheeks—how it drips down onto the couch below with every intentional roll of his tongue against your entrance.

his tongue works in circles, pressing flat to your hole before dragging up again, tasting every bit of your arousal as it gushes out onto his lips. his mouth is open the entire time, tongue rolling and flicking, nose nudging against your clit as he angles his head lower. he flattens his tongue, groaning as he drags it up through your folds before plunging it into you, so messy that you swear you see white behind your eyelids.

your back arches, chest rising in sharp, hiccupped gasps, every single nerve in your body on flames. your thighs twitch in his grasp, and he squeezes them tighter, keeping you spread open just for him. his hands slide up, one wrapping firmly around your waist, keeping you pinned in place, while the other travels up, up—his fingers finding the stiff peaks of your nipples.

your eyes snap open, a gasp catching in your throat as he rolls one between his fingertips, twisting just enough to make your eyes roll. you swear you hear him chuckle against you, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“breathe,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your clit before sucking it between his teeth, tongue rolling in lazy, teasing circles on the swollen bud. “breathe for me, baby.”

you try. you really do. but the way his mouth moves, the way his fingers tweak and pull, it’s too much. you’re spiraling. you feel another orgasm creeping up so fast it steals the air right out of your lungs.

he sees it. he knows.

his grip tightens on your thigh, his tongue flicking faster, working you open as his free hand continues to play with your tits, kneading the soft flesh, fingers rolling your nipples in rhythm with the lazy grind of his tongue against your clit.

your moans turn high-pitched, desperate. your body twists beneath him, unable to keep still as the pleasure builds, climbing higher and higher.

but then—a whimper.

not from you.

from him.

you force your heavy lids open, head lolling to the side as you try to focus on him. and fuck, the sight that greets you is almost enough to make you cum then and there.

seungcheol is rutting against the couch. grinding, fucking humping it like a damn dog, his hips rolling in slow thrusts, his rock-hard cock straining against his stomach, smearing precum all over his abs and the fabric beneath him.

he whimpers again, this time louder, his brows furrowed, his breath coming in short, uneven pants.

“fuck,” he groans, mouth still pressed against you, voice muffled by the way his tongue keeps working you over. he pulls back just enough to speak, his lips glistening, his chin soaked. his eyes are dark, glassy, pupils blown wide as he looks up at you. “can’t—fuck, i can’t stop. you taste too good.”

your chest tightens, a desperate, aching cry slipping from your lips as you clutch at his hair, thighs twitching in his grasp. “cheol—gonna—gonna cum, oh my god—”

he moans, actually fucking moans, his hips grinding down harder against the couch as he redoubles his efforts, tongue circling your clit in precise, teasing flicks, his fingers pinching your nipples just hard enough to send you over the edge.

your body locks up. your back arches. your mouth falls open, a silent scream tearing from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you, all-consuming.

seungcheol doesn’t stop. doesn’t slow down. he works you through it like it’s his mission, licking you clean, his tongue rolling over your entrance, collecting every last drop as your body trembles violently beneath him.

your chest heaves, your vision blurring, but even through the haze, you can feel him still grinding against the couch, still so fucking hard and desperate, all because of you.

your brain is slow. dial-up connection slow. everything feels like it’s underwater, your body floating somewhere between consciousness and the best orgasm-induced coma of your life. it’s warm, so warm, like your body is still riding out the fever of your high, tongue pressed against the roof of your mouth, throat dry, muscles heavy like they’re full of sand.

you don’t even remember when it happened—when you blacked out, when you got moved. just flashes of cool wipes dragging over your skin, a damp cloth pressed between your thighs, seungcheol’s hands gentle, careful, murmuring something you were too gone to comprehend. like déjà vu, like something out of a dream.

but you’re awake now. sort of. and you’re in his bed.

the sheets are soft, cool against your fevered skin, and it feels so good that you can’t help the tired, pleased moan that slips past your lips, involuntary, barely conscious.

but it’s enough to make him look at you.

you blink, vision still a little hazy, but yeah, that’s definitely seungcheol, sitting at his desk, dressed in a loose shirt and sweats, hair damp, probably from a shower. there’s a slight smirk on his lips, but his eyes are soft as they sweep over you, taking in the way you’re still half-buried in his sheets, limbs heavy, body relaxed.

then it hits you.

the documents.

joshua.

fuck.

your eyes widen, and you jolt up too fast, regretting it immediately when the soreness between your thighs protests, a sharp ache shooting up your spine. “fuck—”

seungcheol’s already up, one hand pressing to your shoulder, guiding you back down before you can do any more damage. “hey, hey, relax. you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“the—documents,” you mumble, eyes fluttering shut again as the exhaustion creeps back in. “joshua.”

he chuckles, and you open your eyes just in time to see him shaking a small stack of papers in his hand. “yeah, yeah. i got it. sent them over while you were passed out.”

you frown, groggy. “i was supposed to send them.”

“and joshua needs to get used to me handling shit for you,” he says, grinning as he sets the papers down. “besides, he’d probably prefer not to get another noise complaint under his name.”

your face heats up instantly. “oh my god.”

“mhmm,” seungcheol hums, tilting his head. “wanna know how loud you were?”

“no.”

he laughs, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, thumb tracing your cheek. “then go back to sleep, baby.”

you glare at him. or, at least, you try to. it’s weak, and he knows it, because all it takes is one more stroke of his thumb before your eyes flutter shut again, body sinking further into his bed.

yeah. you can fight him about the joshua thing later. maybe. probably not.

[rafesangelita]

♡ it’s that time of year again, and kook!sweetheart!reader is here and ready to kiss for charity in her annual kissing booth! however, rafe is first in line.. and a peck on the cheek is not the only thing he’s interested in

warnings: s1!rafe, flirty banter, dirty talk, heavy petting, fingering, overstimulation, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), hair pulling, multiple orgasms

a/n: now presenting… ‘KISSING BOOTH’ 🤍 i was so obsessed with this idea, i had came up with it last year but decided i should wait for valentine’s day to write it, so to say it’s been a long time coming is an understatement! i’m so excited for this valentine’s day celebration, i hope you all will love it <3

link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

wc: 1.5k

“wow, it looks like cupid threw up in here.” you smiled at the familiar voice, your best friend rolling her eyes when she saw the way your cheeks heated at rafe’s teasing words. while she thought rafe was annoying and insufferable, you absolutely adored him, always laughing at his lame jokes and letting him hold you close at parties as if to let everyone know that you were off limits. “you don’t like the way i decorated the booth?” you pouted up at him as he leaned over the front counter, a smug grin gracing his features. “yeah, it’s cute..” he trailed off, “but are you really gonna kiss some random assholes for a fuckin’ dollar?”

you sighed, pointing towards the tip jar. “it’s for charity, rafe.. and i’m not really ‘kissing’ anyone, i’m barely grazing their cheek!” rafe scoffed before studying you for a moment. you were such a pretty thing, the idea of some losers waiting in line to get something as little as a peck from you made his blood boil. “how much money do you have to make today?” he was fishing in his pocket for his wallet before you even answered. “i would like to make at least three hundred dollars.” you watched him curiously as he managed to get some crisp bills out of the expensive leather.

“i’ll do you one better, and give you five hundred dollars to ditch this joint right now.” you blinked, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. “are you serious?” he dropped the money in the jar that you decorated with pink heart-shaped stickers and red rhinestones. “yeah, but i don’t just want a kiss..” he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “i’d rather see those pretty, sparkly lips wrapped around my cock instead, yeah?” you felt butterflies flutter in your tummy, your needy gaze meeting his own. “come on, baby.” he took your hand in his, his thumb rubbing into your skin.

swallowing thickly, you glanced over at your bestie. “i can’t leave her to do this all by herself..” just as you were going to apologize and tell him maybe another time, she took the money out of the jar and placed it into an envelope. “i’m gonna go turn this money in to the charity organizers and close up shop, ‘looks like the boys of kildare will have to be kissed by someone else today.” you giggled, motioning for rafe to come inside once your friend left. he wasted no time, locking the wooden door shut as you closed the window, moving the silky red curtain over the glass.

rafe’s hands were palming the soft flesh of your ass in an instant, his large hands shamelessly flipping up your skirt to get a better grip on your skin. despite the small amount of pain he drew from squeezing you so hard, you still moaned blissfully when he took you in a sloppy kiss, his tongue wetting your bottom lip in the process. “you’re so sweet, y’know that? letting me have my way with you like this.” without warning, rafe took ahold of your thighs before hiking you up onto the counter. “i’ve been wanting to know how you taste for so long..” he groaned, both of you moaning as he rubbed you through your panties.

moving your hands to run down his chest, you and rafe shared a look before he slowly peeled back the pink lace. “all i gotta do is chat you up, and you’re already soaked like this?” he laughed incredulously, “fuck, you’re just dying for it.” you couldn’t help but whimper when he gathered the pool of slick between your folds, circling your clit slow and hard before popping his digits into his mouth. “rafe!” you’re shocked but so turned on at the same time, the look of pure disbelief on your face making him smile in amusement. “as much as i’d love to eat this sweet pussy, i need to feel you wrapped around me even more.”

fingertips hooking in the waistband of your panties, rafe slid the material down your legs before placing them in his pocket. “i’m keeping these for later, ‘that alright?” you nodded frantically, spreading your thighs open for him before he stroked your glossy slit. “m’gonna stretch you out just right..” you gasped, your eyebrows knitting together as he slowly inserted his middle finger. “shit, you’re so tight.” he smiled down at you, watching as you struggled to keep your eyes open. “if you think this is a stretch, just wait til’ i have my cock inside of you.”

rafe was knuckle deep at this point, your pretty moans giving him all the encouragement he needed to insert another finger. “oh, god!” your heel clad feet began shaking when his palm met your swollen clit, the pressure making you keen. rafe fisted your ponytail, pulling your head down so you could watch him curl his digits in order to hit that soft, gummy spot inside of you. your top was out of place, your tits threatening to spill out of your bra as rafe used his free hand to keep your chin pointed down. the closer you got to your orgasm, the more you tried to pull away from him, the intensity of your climax already coiling tight in your tummy.

rafe let go of your hair and pinned you down by your hip as he pushed you over the edge, the band in your stomach finally snapping as you came undone. you cried out, your nails raking down his forearm as he hissed at the stinging sensation. “you’re doing so fucking good, holy shit!” he cursed, the sound of your slick juices making your cheeks heat. you shook and writhed beneath him, your heart beating in your ears as you felt the pure unadulterated pleasure wrack through your system. surely, it couldn’t get better than this.. right?

wrong.

rafe wasn’t lying when he said the stretch from his fingers was nothing compared to the stretch of his cock, the tip of his length now kissing your poor cervix with each thrust. “t-too much! rafe, slow down!” he ignored your pleas, instead taking your arms and pinning them to your back so you couldn’t push against his abs anymore. you swore if it wasn’t for him holding your leg up, you would’ve fallen to the ground already. “ah, nah you got it, pretty girl.” he leaned down, pressing kisses to your shoulder. “this is all you, sweetheart, you’re sucking me in like a fucking vice.” he panted.

rafe was close, but he meant what he said earlier— he needed to see you on your knees for him, he needed to see those swollen lips wrapped around his cock just like how he’s imagined for so long. just when rafe felt like he was going to fill up your cunt, he pulled out, quickly pushing you to the floor so he could use your throat instead. you’ve given him complete control, and the power to throw you around as he got you on your knees, kicking your thighs apart so he could see the mess you made between your legs. rafe nearly came when he saw you open your mouth so willingly for him, almost like it was your instinct to take him whole.

taking the hem of his shirt between his teeth, rafe kept the cotton material out of the way as he slid between your lips with ease. you were so warm and so wet, and just so, so, so pretty with your mouth full, he took a breath before tugging at the roots of your hair. “make me fuckin’ cum,” your eyes widened slightly when he whimpered, the sound making you take him even further until your nose was nudging at his base, “oh, what the fuck, what the fuck—” he was done for as soon as you swallowed around him, your eyes watering with tears as you felt the warm ropes of his seed paint your throat.

rafe kept your head in place, his jaw slack as he emptied himself inside of you. it wasn’t until you tapped on his leg that he pulled you off, a strangled gasp leaving your lips as you finally sucked in a breath. he felt dazed, just the same way you did. “damn, sweetheart, should i bribe you more often?” you laughed, accepting the hand he held out for you. standing up on shaky legs, rafe got his shorts on, helping you readjust your clothing shortly after. “you don’t have to bribe me..” despite just doing the most filthiest things you’ve ever done, you still couldn’t help but feel shy underneath the intensity of his stare.

rafe kissed you, taking your hand in his before placing another kiss to your knuckles. “come on,” he poked his head out of the booth to make sure no one was around, “let’s get you back to my place, i need to get my head between those thighs like asap.”

[whore-ibly-hot]

Yandere Boarding school thoughts... (Gender Neutral)

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Multiple yanderes, non-con touching, dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, bullying, masturbation, aphrodisiacs, general perversion, dry-humping, voyeurism, controlling behaviors, typical yandere stuff, breeding, drug usage, horny posting.

(AN: I have rizz-en from my grave to be horny once more. All of these guys are avaliable for requests, but will be listed under the materlist simply as Yan!Boarding School.)

Background: Thinking about a Headmasters child!Reader at a private boarding school. For a Fem!Reader, perhaps you're just visiting daddy for the season while he's running the school, or maybe you've been bad, and need more supervision. For a Masc!Reader, it could be the same case, however, with Blackmoore Academy being an all male school, this opens up the availability for reader to be attending.

Student scenarios and profiles:

◇ Harrison Spence, star member of the swim steam, basketball player, and golden boy. Despite jock stereotypes, he's respectful and mature. He always looks out for others, and this lends to why your father suggests rooming with him. Plus... if anything were to happen, your father wouldn't hate to have him as a son in law. He's SOOO friendly when he meets you. Those big strong arms are perfectly suited to lug your bags upstairs to his room. Want help putting stuff away, sure! For a Fem!Reader, he's not suprised how awkward he is when he's unzipping your suitcase, only to be met with some thin lacy garments. He just coughs and backs off. For a Masc!Reader, he wears boxers too! So why does he still feel so hot. He should open a window.

He'll make sure you fit in around campus, mostly steering you in the direction of the athletics department. He'd love to see you at some of his games, cheering him on. You seem so nice, he could really seem himself with you long term, the more he thinks about crushing on you. Besides, you already share a living space. He feels awful about how his body reacts anytime you're too close. You left a jacket behind that smells just like you? He tries not to think about the consequences of fisting his cock into it. Late night out at one of his games? Who cares if you share a dorm and your bed is literally six feet away, it's too far of a walk. Slide into his bed, he's a gentleman. At least until he wakes up the next morning, mind foggy as he instinctively moves his cock up over the waist band, putting a leaky tip against your ass as he resists the urge to press his head into your neck, opting for a pillow instead. He's so, so sorry, but he's gott a deal with it, and you just feel so good. He rationalizes it by saying he's not just some horned up guy, no. You're his roommate, HIS. And what would the Headmasters think! No, he wants a future with you, romance, not just a warm hole to rut...

"Hey, roomie! Listen, practice is running kinda late tonight, so I'm gonna grab food on the way back. Why don't you text me your order, I can bring it back. We can make a whole thing out of it, no need to pay me back! I'm thinking burgers?"

◇ Carter Matthews, student body president, scholar, and in every AP class possible. Even some dumb ones. He doesn't pay much mind to you, you ate very attractive but so is he. If he felt the need for a relationship, he could get whomever he wanted. But he hates... hates how you make the other students, even some of the faculty act. He can't help but follow you around, making sure you obey curfew, and don't get into any trouble. He likes to keep order around here, and it bothers him to have to ignore his student body presidential duties to make sure some delinquent isn't trying to slip you a spiked drink, or some jock has you under the bleachers trying to get your mouth wrapped around their tips.

Eventually, he decides you could be helpful instead of a hinderance. He's busy, may need a form of stress relief, and given babysitting you when Harrison isn't around is one of the main sources of that stress, why shouldn't you help him out. Besides, you look so cute flustered. Maybe it starts small, he tells you your uniform bottoms aren't regulation, and while he tugs them down to 'fix' them, his hands wander a bit too much, grazing the soft skin of your ass. During random room inspections, he may let his hatred of the sports program taking up all the funding by mentioning how obvious it is your roommate wants to stick it in you. Harrison can't stand him, not trusting the cold creepy gaze of the prefect. He'll force you to come to student council meetings, under the guise of assisting him with preparing for a faculty dinner to appease your father, only to get you under his desk while he writes, trying to guide you with one stern hand. He doesn't like to go too deep, not one to enjoy gagging or unnecessary sound that would distract him from working.

"Keep it down." He scolds, cold eyes peering down through blonde bangs. With a sigh, his free hand strokes your cheek. "Just suckle, alright? There'll be plenty of time after I'm done for you to make sweet noises around my cock..."

◇ Evan Reed, CAPTAIN of the swim team, and student assistant PE coach. He's used to play basketball alongside Harrison, but got kicked out for being too violent. Shoving, pushing, and going as far as knocking teeth out. He's a fucking animal. He's handsome, of not a bit of a loner. He isn't popular or unpopular, people tend to leave him alone because of that bad boy attitude and his temper, but he's always welcome to party with the jocks, welcomed into parties and known as a keg-stand king. And boy do you catch his eyes, giving that your always hanging off Harrison, or being trailed by Carter. He's more than happy to accompany you to the pool or help you out in gym class, but it's obvious what he wants. He'll get up behind you in the pool, still smelling of cigarettes as he asks mundane questions while trying to pull your swimsuit to the side and get his hands on that sweet spot between your thighs. Or maybe he'll sit on the edge of the pool, congratulate you on how good your doing, legs spread as he pulls you between them, hoping you'll end up accidentally eyeing his cock. If you are a Masc!Reader, then there's definitely some internalized homophbia. He'll make sure you know these are just normal friend activities, even when he's got you bent over in the boys locker room, ass up. He doesn't EVER plan to be the one on the bottom.

He's a player, chasing tail outside of the school, hitting on peers sisters and mom's alike. But now, he plans to keep you around, not because he necessarily feels like he wants a romantic relationship with you, but because he loooooves how pissed it makes Harrison. He never liked the goody two-shoes, and half suspects he's one of the people who pushed to get him kicked out of basketball. He likes to pick on people, but Harrison sees himself as a knight in shining armor. So it gives Evan a major power boner to make you grind up against him on the dancefloor at some preppy party, while Harrison just has to stand by and not crush his beer can. Evan knows harrison will never, ever do anything to ruin your good guy image of him. Ever.

He's pissed, punching a locker as he let's out a growl. 4-0, what the fuck is wrong with his team? How could they get fucked over so bad after weeks of missing parties for shitty practices. Luckily for him, he sees you on the sidelines, probably waiting for Harrison to walk you back to your dorm. He takes this opportunity to slide up behind you, hands on your hips as you can feel his angry erection rutting up against your ass. "You. Me. Locker room, five minutes, stall three. Be ready, underwear off and bent over or I'll take you in front of the guys who are still changing? Got it?" He departs with a harsh smack on your rear.

◇ Joseph Mick, he's in the newspaper, but it's not like he's the head or anything. He just love photography, and he's the only guy at school to have really mastered the dark room. He's known to be a little... odd. He's the youngest in you and Harrisons class, with a petite stature and thin, lanky arms. He's pale, almost gaunt, but that could be a lack of sunlight given that he spends all his time in the dark room or toiling over photo arrangement mock-ups in the journalism room. People avoid him, but he's okay with that. He's more than happy to just watch from a distance, and photography is his real branch to the world. People only talk to him or react positively if he's taking photos for the paper or the school newsletter. He actually meets you at one of Evan's swim meets, he gets good seats for being student press, and you get good seats for just being Evan's new favorite piece of ass. Your aren't even sure why you were invited, you don't even know anything about how one wins a swimming competition. But Joseph does. He's been to enough of these, and you notice, so you lean over and start asking him questions. He's shocked someone is talking to him, and not about getting a bigger feature in the yearbook. He's more than happy to help point stuff out to you, even if he had to repeat himself or stutter his way through something. He's feeling his heart flutter and his hands shake so much so he can barely hold the camera. Soon, he's watching as you walk away, wishing he could grab onto you and hang you up on his wall to admire like one of his pictures. It's only made worse when he sees a pair of masculine arms dragging you into the boys locker room.

He's a stalker, but it's not his fault! For one, he's got no idea how to approach anyone, much less someone he likes as much as you. And since he's got that reputation as a creep, if he approached you in public, Harrison would be polite but firm at shooing him away, Carter would give him a look that makes him feel like a worm beneath his well polished shoes, and Evan would beat him to the brink of death, but then pass him over to his friends. But God, if he didn't think it was worth it sometimes to just be close to you. He can only get as close to you as his high-focus lens will allow. He's got hundreds of photos of you, some taken by him, some by campus security cams, and he treats each one like the piece that's gonna get him into a top art school. He almost feels bad taking risqué shots of you. He's always following you, and he sees the ways those... those pigs are treating you. If he could stand up to them, he would. He sees (from the cameras he's slipped into your bag) the boner Harrison is always sporting when he in your presence, he even caught a glance of Harrisons late night rendezvous with your pillow. He sees the way Carter leads you through the hallways like his little secretary, lithe fingers trying to get up your uniform bottoms. Worst of all is the way he sees Evan humping you in the pool like a dog in heat, with you obviously unsure about how you feel about this. He knows he'd treat you right, if you'd ever consider being with something like him. Notice he almost feels too bad to take risqué pictures. He can't help it if a picture or two from one of his hidden cams has a bit of an upskirt, or gets a little to zoomed in on your pecs. But know that as he drums humps the table in the dark room, those copies are only so he can keep one in his room and one on his person! He'd never, ever share your sexual exploits, not like Evan would, always bragging about what he does with, or more likely to you.

Being on the newspaper staff, he's got a pretty good idea of everyone's schedules. He's more than happy to try and squeak out some words to you if he knows your many admirers are preoccupied. Trust him, he knows A LOT of good spots to share a meal privately or maybe... maybe you'd like to see the dark room? He's even got a pillow in there, a cushion he can place on a soft stool in case you ever came to visit. He hopes he could get a private photoshoot in, maybe with some silly pictures of you, or even some lewd pics, he's just happy to see his collection expand. He doesn't have a lot of money, but he's more than happy to buy you as much cheap vending machine food as you want as long as you'll spend time with him.

"Oh, shi- hey! I didn't realize you'd be stopping by here. I'm just, uh, editing some photos for the paper." You don't notice as he slyly moves a tray of pics taken outside a dorm window that looks suspiciously like yours. He thanks whoever is out there in this moment that the dark room has a sink as he keeps his right hand out of sight.

◇ Tyler Mertz and Percy 'Pez' Goldberg, two outsiders, and self proclaimed 'dudes with bad tudes'. Put into the same headcanon spot because they aren't ever seen apart. Tyler and Pez got in on scholarship, and immediately bonded because they know they don't fit in among the rich kids at Ridgemoore. Tyler got in on a scholarship to pursue culinary excellence, because if he can do one thing, it's cook. Pez was awarded a scholarship by lottery two years ago, and even though he's barely passing most of his classes and is the biggest delinquent in school, he can't be kicked out. The school made too much of a big deal about his acceptance to create some good press, the faculty are planning to just wait the problem out. Repeating a year hasn't helped with that, though. Still, they are attached at the hip. Both struggle in classes, Pez because of a shitty social life and even shittier focus, and Tyler because he's just a little slow. Still, Tyler excels in cooking, and the faculty know he's trying. There's a few ways you might come across the pair. Maybe you decided to take culinary, and got paired up with a sweet, dopey guy who turns out to be a fucking MasterChef, or maybe your a brat!reader, like I mentioned earlier, and you meet Pez in detention, where he's glad to know the schools newest troublemaker is a looker too. Most likely, you come across them when either Evan makes you tag along to buy some weed and half-priced shitty beer for a post-game party, or Carter tells you he'll personally see to it that your father tethers you to him if he sees you talking to those 'deliquents'. Either way, they're probably some of the nicest guys in the school, even though Pez likes to fight. He's not a bad guy, but the school can't seem to recognize half of the shit he does is in retaliation to someone fucking with him or his friend.

Pez will like any kind of reader, any. If you're bratty!reader, he loves having someone to run around and bust shit up with. But he'll promise to leave the statue of your father alone, if that's what you want. If you're an innocent!reader, he can't deny he'd love to ruin that good guy/girl image you have going on. Smoke a little weed, sneak out a little, let him show you a good time. He promises he won't cross any lines or do something that would really scare or upset you. He's not a bad guy, he just wants to show you there's so much stuff out there to do. Unlike Joseph, he doesn't let the fact that others think he's a freak keep him from hanging with you. He wants them to see that you like him. HIM. He thinks your adorable no matter who you are, and frankly, snuggling up on the Headmasters kid is just another act of defiance he's happy to flaunt. Eventually, he might even open up to you about his shitty home life, and the fact he's only called Pez cause' when he's high that candy is all he wants to eat.

Tyler is a huge softie. He doesn't let the thing people say about him get to him, mostly because he's a bit dense in the moment to know he's being made fun of, but also because he's okay with being alone. He's happy with who he is, a nice guy. But, that doesn't mean he doesn't love his best buddy, or mind adding you to there little group. It's just one more mouth to feed in his eyes. He'll walk you to all your classes, slinging his big arms around you and keeping you close to his side. Unlike Pez, he grew up with a pretty loving family, and they're what he misses most about being away at boarding school. Most of the money he makes selling weed with Pez goes back to his family, but they don't really know how he makes it. He comes to see you and Pez as his new little family.

With these two, there will be lots of late nights with bad movies and pizza made from scratch. Being on some rundown couch squished between to large bodies, at least one set of arms wrapped around your waist. I think they both are pretty open about telling each other about the crush they have on you, given that they are best buds. These idiots probably got super high one night, and Tyler let slip that he, quote, 'thinks he wants to put a baby in you', to which Pez replies he'd like to put something along those lines in you too. It wouldn't be hard for them to both come to terms with wanting to share you, they share everything else. They just hope you'd want both of them, Pez and Tyler can't stand the thought of making things awkward by you only wanting one of them, so they both subtly try to transition you into the roll of being their partner.

Pez would be fucking fuming when he starts realizing the things boys at school are doing to you. Whether he witnesses it himself, or you come to him and Tyler seeking comfort, he'll pound the shit out of anyone who tries to touch you like that. If you like someone else, Pez wouldn't wail on them to eliminate a rival like Evan would, but rather he hands it over to Tyler. Tyler would come up with some rumors, maybe a reason the guy isn't right for you, and why would Tyler lie? He doesn't feel great about lying, but thinking about the things guys at this school do to you, fills the sweet chefs stomach with a bitter bile.

They wouldn't outright pressure you into sex, but rather try and find ways to coerce you into requesting or initiating it. Pez has some weed laced with something, nothing too strong, but it'll make even a nun feel a little frisky. He'll lay back or rub your thigh, hoping the weed will relax you enough to come out and say what you want. Maybe an aphrodisiac or two gets slipped into a warm drink Tyler made for you. It gets you feeling all hot, but don't worry, you can stay in their room overnight and wear their clothes, so they can... make sure you're not sick or anything.

"Hey," you can feel a pair of arms wrap around you from your spot at the library table. You look up and see Pez, with Tyler now playfully laying his head on the table beside you. "Heard that shithead Evan's got an away game, so it looks like your freed up after all to spend a little time with your favorite guys." His lips are dangerously close to your ear, making you squirm. "Yeah, man, we've got a bunch of movies n' shit from the store, and I'll even make your favorite. Stay the night, it's not like we've got anywhere to be tommorow, and my beds so cold..." Tyler teases playfully, eyes wide and feigning sadness.

All these boys make it difficult to get any alone time at Ridgemoor, but the men certainly don't make it easier... (Taboo part two with the faculty coming soon, because I'm horny for Dilfs and old men with questionable dynamics with reader.)

[misserabella]

bloody and needy

just thinking about spencer being the kind of MAN that doesn’t care about blood. you want period sex? you’ve got it. that’s it. that’s the prompt.

cw: +18, minors dni!, period sex, blood duh, spencer being a service king, praising, lots of pet names and dirty talk, breeding kink, overstimulation, creampie, allusion to a second round…

it’s all a blur. you don’t exactly remember how or when spencer took off your clothes, but you’re laying completely naked over a couple of towels on your shared bed as his large fingers pump into your squeezing cunt.

“fuck.” and you’re moaning, cause it feels so fucking good you want to cry. it’s been over a week since you two have had sex, since he’d been away for a case, and just when he was finally coming back home and you hoped you’d finally get some release, that time of the month tagged along. so there you were, horny, desperate, and bleeding. but your boyfriend doesn’t care about blood. ‘it’s natural.’ he’s told you before. ‘tell me what you need and i’ll give it to you.’

so here you were now, legs spread as he adds another finger, your own in his hair tugging at the feeling of him stretching you so nicely… spencer kissed and sucked at your neck, his cock throbbing at the sweet sounds you’re making and the squelches that come from your cunt as he pumps in and out.

“spencer…”

“god baby, you’re so pretty like this…” he muttered, needy to be inside but waiting for you to give him the go ahead. his hand is a mess of crimson but he pays no mind to it.

“need you.” you breathe out, your back arching as his lips latched to your nipples.

“yeah? you need me?” he lapped at one of them and you nodded, whimpering. “should i take my fingers out then?” you nodded once again, but still whined at the loss of pleasure. “i know, i know baby. so needy for me.” he was quick to make work of his clothes, throwing them aside with your own and positioning himself in between your legs.

your hips and legs trembled when the tip of his cock teased you, and his tongue wetted his lips at the sight of the face you made when it bumped against your clit. “so sensitive huh?” he smiled and you nodded, eyes hazy.

“feels so good…”

“im gonna make you feel better, angel.” he said as he pushed inside with one single thrust, what made you scream. “fuck. you’re so warm…” he gritted his teeth as he started to move, leaving kisses on your neck. “so wet for me. you feel like heaven, love. so good for me.” he praised as he fucked into you, your legs surrounding his hips and your nails digging on his back. “you needed this, hm? baby? you needed me to fuck you, huh? my poor pretty girl. i’ve always told you that you just need to ask and i’ll give you anything.” your cheeks blushed, and you whined. “see what being a good girl and speaking up gets you, baby?” he pecked your lips and you moaned at a partially harsher thrust. “like that?”

“harder.” you desperately asked and he complied, fucking into you at the same speed yet harsher. you couldn’t stop the moans and whimpers falling from your lips. “spence…”

“i know angel, you’re so sensitive, doing so good for me…” one of his hands found your clit, circling it. “you can cum, pretty girl.” you moaned, your back arching. it was almost too much, until the overstimulation faded and you were grinding against his touch and cock in a daze. “jesus. if you could see yourself right now baby, so fucking hot… gonna make me cum so hard…” you whimpered at the thought. “yeah? you want me to cum for you baby?” you nodded. “where?”

“inside. cum inside please.” you babbled, your whole body tensing at the approaching of your orgasm. spencer groaned.

“you want me to fill this pretty pussy? make a mess out of it?” you cried and hiccuped in answer, muttering a ��yes’ that almost made him bust in the spot. “want me to get you round and pretty for me?”

“yes! please, spencer, please…!” you begged and he moaned.

“i’m gonna cum baby, gonna fill you up so much it’ll be dripping out of you for a week.” that made you unravel, the tight band in you stomach snapping as you screamed in release, moaning his name over and over. “fuck, angel, fuck.” he groaned as he felt you clench, and after three stuttering thrusts, he spilled everything inside of you, kissing you sloppily as he fucked the two of you through it.

after the two of you came down, he caressed your cheek. “you okay, baby?”

“more than okay.” you smiled, and he couldn’t help but do the same.

“i’m gonna go find something to clean us up, okay?”

yoy looked down to find his thighs and v line along with his lower stomach stained in your blood. it only made you throb and him hiss.

“or maybe not.” he replied as he felt you starting to rock your hips against his already hardening cock.

“maybe not.”

-

❤️🩸i’m on my period, SO WHAT

[oceanicwriting]

hey, bro!

summary: where mattheo riddle is obsessed with his best friend sister, and for the first time, he can fuck her without protection and now he doesn't give a fuck about who knows what. not even his best friend.

pairing(s): non-wizard mattheo riddle x non-wizard female!reader

a/n: i'm so sooooorry this took me a while to post... but here it is! i'm still doing my road trip and i have no idea when i'll be back, but i have some good ideas if you are patient with me hehe.

+18 smut, unprotected sex, missionary, praising, cursing

ㅤㅤㅤ —mattheo, —you moan as you feel his lips descend to the neckline of your shirt—. mattheo, wait.

ㅤㅤㅤ you thought he would ignore your voice because he easily lifts you up to sit on the counter, standing between your legs ready to receive him. although he continues to caress you with his large palms, he seems attentive to listen to what you have to say.

ㅤㅤㅤ —we can’t do this, —you whisper, looking him straight into his soft puppy brown eyes—. theodore could catch us, and we both know that would be fatal.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i can handle it, —he says, smiling and leaning in to kiss you again—. where does all this guilt come from, baby? i don't remember these words when we did it at my house, my car, the beach, the closet, the bathroom...

ㅤㅤㅤ you roll your eyes at his tone. funny but ironic.

ㅤㅤㅤ —get to the point.

ㅤㅤㅤ mattheo caresses your face with one of his hands, moving his thumb delicately over your cheekbone lit up red. his other hand travels to your back, where the neckline of the shirt allows him to feel your warm skin against the tip of his fingers. a shiver runs through your body, as weak as ever to his cold touch.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i don't think all the other times you cared so much. —you hated that his gaze enjoys so much seeing even the slightest reaction of your body to his presence—. theodore is drunk and, minutes ago, he went with my cousin to his room. why is that not illegal?

ㅤㅤㅤ you laugh, playing with the collar of his black t-shirt.

ㅤㅤㅤ —besides, it's my fault that his sister is so fucking hot? —he questions, letting out a soft laugh.

ㅤㅤㅤ you give him a punch on the shoulder as he tries to lean in to kiss you again. lately, he didn’t seem to care if theodore, your brother, found out about you two, and it was driving you a little crazy. mattheo growls at your action and raises his eyebrows in confusion.

ㅤㅤㅤ —not here. go to my room in five. —you jump off the furniture, pushing mattheo against the wall.

ㅤㅤㅤ —there’s my girl.

ㅤㅤㅤ mattheo riddle and theodore nott have been friends since they were five. when they met, after your family moved to his neighborhood, you had just turned three. over time, the brunette became a constant figure at home. now the two great friends shared an apartment near the university in the busy streets of london.

ㅤㅤㅤ your story with mattheo is somewhat different. sure, you knew each other since you were little, but theodore became an overprotective brother by the time. no one could ever get close to his little sister, much less his friends who he knew so well. everything turned upside down when you turned thirteen, and your parents sent you to a boarding school for girls in the outskirts of the country. you didn't see mattheo again until a year ago, where all kinds of things started to go wrong.

ㅤㅤㅤ the first time you two had a run-in was eight months ago. theodore, after having insisted for hours, took you to a party with the strict condition of not being near his friends. the big problem started when your brother drank so much that he was unable to drive the car, and mattheo was the only sane one to take you home. if your brother hadn't drank more than he should have, you wouldn't have had the slightest intention of getting close to them, and everything that's happening with mattheo would never have blossomed.

ㅤㅤㅤ from that time on, mattheo started looking for you, and even if you insisted that it was forbidden, nothing could stop the desire of your eager bodies.

ㅤㅤㅤ and that's how you've ended up, once again, whimpering under his sticky body. you're not fully aware of how many times you've cum under the brunette's caresses, but you're sure you've enjoyed each one of them. the labored breathing, aroma of the room, and condoms thrown on the floor were proof of that.

ㅤㅤㅤ —shit, —he whispers, coming out of you to throw away the condom that was squeezing his cock—. so perfect. and just for me.

ㅤㅤㅤ you barely smile because you're still a little lost from the explosion of sensations you'd experienced seconds ago. mattheo, until now, had tested your pussy until exhaustion. he had bitten, licked, and sucked every corner of your naked body with the need to mark you until the last day of your life. of course, as fascinating as everything he'd done before, burying himself in you over and over again wasn't going to be left out of the long night.

ㅤㅤㅤ —how i love to see your face after the orgasm —he whispers, caressing your legs, standing between them—. so beautiful and bright.

ㅤㅤㅤ seeing him naked and stained by soft pink marks can only awaken a new wave of need that intoxicates you. it is an unrecognizable force of desire that generates all kinds of thoughts loaded with lust. then, motivated by instinct, you hug his waist with your legs and pull his arm.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what is this? —he questions, resting one of his hands on the bed so as not to crush you—. seconds ago, you were screaming that you couldn't take it anymore.

ㅤㅤㅤ there is a hint of concern in his voice for taking you to an unknown limit, but also a certain mockery that does not go unnoticed, motivating you to rub your pussy against his slowly hardening crotch. it was as clear as the day that mattheo riddle could never resist you.

ㅤㅤㅤ —mattheo. —the guttural moan that escapes your lips is enough to make him lose his mind a little—. i need you to fuck me again. i need to feel every inch of you, please.

ㅤㅤㅤ —baby, i don't...

ㅤㅤㅤ knowing exactly what he was going to say and taking the initiative, you speak—. i don’t want you to use a condom. please, mattheo, i need to feel it all inside me.

ㅤㅤㅤ how could he think straight when you’re rubbing yourself shamelessly, his lip marks glistening on your chest, and you’re smiling like the devil himself has possessed you?

ㅤㅤㅤ mattheo’s lips tangle with yours in a messy, exhausted, needy kiss. it was such a strange mix that your heart skips a beat against your chest. he settles against your pussy, finding your entrance and gently pushing himself inside you. he didn’t want to go fast because mattheo wanted to remember every corner of your insides with agony.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you feel so good.

ㅤㅤㅤ when his member is completely inside you, you feel his warm skin throbbing and stretching your muscles to the limit. the feeling of that connection drove you completely crazy because being with mattheo was already dangerous territory, and having him inside you without any barriers was even more exciting.

ㅤㅤㅤ —do it slowly —you ask, moving your hips to let him know that he could move.

ㅤㅤㅤ just as you had asked, mattheo does not rush. his entries and exits are smooth, enjoying the exquisiteness of your hot interior. he was fascinated by the way your muscles embraced him, sliding without problem against your walls that could have made him cum from the first moment.

ㅤㅤㅤ soft moans begin to escape from mattheo's lips, forcing you to pay attention to those sounds that you had rarely heard. they were loud, husky, and shameless, perfectly matching the clash of your bodies and your own moans.

ㅤㅤㅤ —shit, i could get addicted to this. feeling you like never before, —he whispers, kissing your chest and speeding up the movement of his hips—. but i can’t take it anymore.

ㅤㅤㅤ a soft cry escapes your mouth at the speed that tickles the inside of your body. mattheo separates his chest from yours, raising your hips held by his hands and burying himself deeper this time. you try to keep your composure, but it’s impossible not to whimper and shudder.

ㅤㅤㅤ —mattheo, i can’t... —a stream of tears escapes down your reddened face—. i need to cum.

ㅤㅤㅤ he doesn't respond, dropping your body back against the bed and stimulating your clit with one of his fingers. the simple contact makes you arch your back in unrecognizable pleasure, clouding your gaze.

ㅤㅤㅤ —so stupidly cute, —he whispers, admiring the way his cock comes in and out of you to discover every corner of your interior—. you're going to look so gorgeous after this. come on, baby, cum for me.

ㅤㅤㅤ you close your eyes tightly, moaning loudly at the amount of sensations that whip through your entire body. then, you feel it, a relieving heat that runs through your entire body accompanied by a soft pop. mattheo has just left your interior to cum in your abdomen, while a soft convulsion releases your own orgasm.

ㅤㅤㅤ you can’t open your eyes because you’re too tired, irritated, and relieved to do so. mattheo takes the liberty of cleaning you up, tidying the room soon after.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you can’t fall asleep, —you whisper, feeling the heaviness of his arm around you—. mattheo?

ㅤㅤㅤ —i know, baby. i know.

ㅤㅤㅤ and the truth is, you should have found the strength to get him out of the room, but you didn’t, waking up the next morning with his arm still squeezing you.

ㅤㅤㅤ —mattheo!? —it's a little scream that you have to stifle with your own hand, getting out of bed and watching him wake up lazily—. shit! mattheo, wake up. you have to go. now.

ㅤㅤㅤ —five minutes...

ㅤㅤㅤ —what? —you climb onto the bed, pushing him towards the edge as best you can—. shit. come on, please, mattheo...

ㅤㅤㅤ and the silly smile that appears on his face at your useless efforts doesn't help the panic growing in your chest. then he pulls your arm, making you fall on top of his bare chest.

ㅤㅤㅤ —do you know that you're wearing my shirt? i can't leave without it.

ㅤㅤㅤ the truth is that you hadn't realized that until he mentions it. mattheo, in an attempt to kiss your lips, approaches your face with impulse.

ㅤㅤㅤ —if that's what you need to get out of the fucking bed.

ㅤㅤㅤ and mattheo shines at the idea of ​​seeing your tits. however, the second you try to take off the garment over your head, your door bursts open. theodore nott, your brother, is now part of the equation.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what the fuck am i looking at? —at each word he pauses a little, exchanging his gaze between you and his best friend.

ㅤㅤㅤ mattheo has jumped out of bed, and the obviousness, given his semi-nakedness, is comical.

ㅤㅤㅤ —god! —you approach your brother, determined to push him out of your room—. why the hell are you coming in without knocking?

ㅤㅤㅤ —hey, bro!

ㅤㅤㅤ if it weren't for the fact that you know that's the worst thing he could say, you would have considered that goofy smile one of the cutest you've ever seen on his face.

ㅤㅤㅤ —shut the fuck up! —theodore bellows, pulling his best friend closer—. i'll talk to you later. walk, motherfucker.

ㅤㅤㅤ —theodore, wait!

ㅤㅤㅤ mattheo doesn't seem to have the best face in the world, but he doesn't seem sorry or afraid either. what the hell is wrong with him today?

ㅤㅤㅤ —see you soon, baby.

ㅤㅤㅤ and you can hear mattheo receive a blow, followed by your brother's voice saying—: you're not going to see her anytime soon, shit face. what the hell do you think you're doing...?

[amiableness]

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 3671 words & 18+

series masterlist ; main masterlist here it is! part two of this blurb. all the hugs and kisses to @moonpascal for reading and giving me tips/ideas! happy reading, angels! 💌

While James is gone, your thoughts spiral out of control. You consider slipping out of his bed and retreating to the living room, where the space feels less charged. A nagging voice in your mind insists that James would be more at ease if you weren’t in his bed. You’ve been in his bed before, shared countless late-night conversations and quiet moments, but this time it feels wildly different. 

The air was thick with tension, something you’d felt even after James left the room, and it made you question whether you should create some distance before he returned. The last thing you wanted was to put him in an uncomfortable position. Lying in his bed while his son called you “mum” surely must have felt that way to him. 

You’ve just sat up in bed, ready to slip out from under the covers, when James quietly reenters the room, closing the door with a soft click. He turns and catches sight of you sitting up, your uncertainty evident in the way you watch him. One brow arches in silent inquiry, his gaze locking onto yours.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“Uh,” you murmur, easing yourself back into the sheets, your hands nervously smoothing out the wrinkles in the fabric. “No.” 

James lets out a satisfied hum, his voice low and warm, “Good.”

You chew on your lip, watching as he runs a hand through his hair, tousling the curls. You fight back a smile, thinking how just a few minutes ago, Henry’s hair looked exactly the same.

“Listen,” he starts. “I want to thank you for going along with Henry calling you mum. I know it might have been a bit of a shock.” His voice is soft as he acknowledges the almost-four-year-old sleeping down the hallway. You feel a wave of emotion at the mention of the little boy.

“A bit.” You say softly.

“I’m sorry,” he admits, his voice tinged with guilt as he runs a hand through his hair again—a gesture that betrays his nerves. “I’ll talk to him in the morning and explain that he can’t call you that.”

A pause lingers between you. Neither of you speaks, the quiet hum of the TV the only thing breaking the stillness.

“Or you don’t have to.” You say gently, pushing the covers aside as you shift to the edge of the bed in front of him. He watches you intently, his eyes darting down to trace over your bare legs. You’re wearing the shorts that drive him crazy—especially now, with you in his bed.

“What?” He asks, his tone dripping with surprise.

“It’s okay if he wants to call me ‘mum’. If you’re okay with it,” you say shyly, and he can tell from the way you bite down on your lower lip and stare up at him that you’re nervous. “I consider him mine.” You continue, your voice coming out in a near whisper.

That’s all it takes.

James pushes himself forward with a determined intensity, his hand cupping your cheek as he tilts your head back, forcing your eyes to meet his. His thumb gently caresses your bottom lip, sending a shiver through you as your lashes flutter with anticipation. He leans in, his breath mingling with yours, and captures your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. You respond with a shuddering sigh.

He pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, “He is yours.”

You can hardly respond. The words are stuck in your throat, trapped by the rising emotions. You couldn’t have heard himright. “Jamie, I—”

“You’ve raised him with me.” He tells you, kneeling between your legs, his warm palms gently pushing your thighs apart so he can press close to you.

A slow, gentle kiss is pressed to your cheek, “Been such a good mum, darling.” He whispers, his voice is rough against your ear.

James grins at the sound of the soft whimper that escapes your lips. Eyes wide and lips parted, you gaze up at him, caught between surprise and desire.

He’s beginning to think you like being praised.

“Always so good for me, aren’t you?” He tests as his lips graze the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. You instinctively reach out, threading your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer as a surge of heat shoots through you, straight to between your legs.

He grins, his theory proven correct. Your hips roll, desperate for friction, as your chest pushes further into his.

“Taking care of my son,” Your eyes flutter closed, letting him run his palm down your neck, tilting your head to the side. Another kiss is placed below your ear, pulling a whimper from your lips. “Our son”

The hand that isn’t cradling your neck glides up your thigh, fingers grazing your skin before gripping your hip firmly, his touch possessive. He squeezes the flesh, sending a wave of heat through you. The sigh you let out is soft, almost a whimper, betraying how desperately you’re losing control under his touch.

“Jamie.” A whimper escapes you as desire coils tightly in your stomach, almost unbearable. You’ve never ached for someone’s touch as much as you do now, every nerve ending alive with need.

“It’s your turn to be taken care of, love.” He mumbles, trailing soft kisses down your neck. Your face tightens, struggling to contain the lump that forms in your throat from his words. 

He pulls back from you, sitting back on his heels as he begins to unbutton his shirt. Your mouth goes dry as your gaze locks onto his fingers, watching them deftly work each button open, one by one. He’s moving slowly, almost deliberately, focusing on the task as if he’s oblivious to how your eyes are glued to him. 

But you know better than that.

The fabric parts gradually, revealing more of his chest with each undone button, and the air between you seems to thicken with anticipation. 

Your focus is dialed into the movement of his hands and the soft rustle of his shirt as he moves. Your thighs press together, the anticipation building unbearably. You reach for the band of his dress pants, fingers curling around the fabric, trying to convey your urgent need. His eyes flicker up to meet yours, and he gives you a smile that’s as devastating as it is knowing.

“Slide up on the bed, darling.” He tells you as he pops open the last button and slides his shirt off, revealing his tanned and toned torso.

You obey without hesitation, your body responding instinctively to his command.

He casually tosses his shirt onto the top of the dresser, the fabric landing in a careless heap. Then he climbs onto the bed, moving with deliberate ease until he’s hovering over you, his presence overwhelming and inescapable.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he mutters, his voice rough with an intensity you’ve never seen in him before. “So beautiful that sometimes I can’t even think straight when I’m around you.”

“Stop it.” You sigh, though there’s no real sharpness in your tone. You’re simply trying to mask how flustered he’s making you.

His fingers slip beneath the strap of your tank top, tugging it off your shoulder, “I’m serious, baby. Do you know how many years I’ve spent dreaming of worshiping your body?”

Baby. That’s new.

“Fuck, I need you to touch me.” You sigh, your voice coated in desperation. 

“Yeah?” He asks, his voice dripping with a cocky undertone. You hate how much it stirs you up, the confidence in his tone intensifying your reaction.

You nod frantically, “Yeah.”

Your eyes flutter closed as James slides the other strap of your top off your shoulder. There’s a brief, charged pause before you feel his lips grazing your collarbone, his breath warm against your skin. He murmurs tender compliments, his words melting into the softness of your skin.

The hem slips down, exposing your breasts to the cool air, and you can feel your nipples harden. James curses before leaning down, eager to press a soft kiss against your right nipple. You draw in a sharp breath, so sudden that James glances up at you in surprise. But you’re too absorbed in the sensation, head thrown back, to notice his reaction.

He takes his time, sucking on your nipples until you’re whining before trailing kisses lower and lower down your body. Stopping at the band of your sleep shorts, he glances up at you for permission. You meet his gaze and give him a smallnod, and then he’s tugging down the flimsy fabric along with your panties and tossing them aside.

The light from his lamp is reflecting off your slick, and he’s never wanted anything more. All those years he spent dreaming of this moment, imagining what it would be like to have you this close. Now that it’s finally happening, he can’t quite grasp that it’s real—that you’re here, within reach, and this isn’t just another fleeting fantasy.

“Fuck, I wanna taste you,” James groans, staring down at your soaked pussy. “Please let me, baby.”

You don’t say anything but instead spread your thighs, your hands gripping underneath the backs of your knees. He grins, his hands sliding up the backs of your thighs to hold you open for him. The tip of his nose brushes against your thighs as he leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive skin. The shaky exhale that slips from your lips at his touch has him growing uncomfortably hard. 

When he nips at your inner thigh, a playful squeal escapes your lips, and you tug at his curls with a mischievous grin. Gently, you guide his head so he’s lined up with your pussy, your touch both commanding and affectionate.

He doesn’t waste any time, his tongue sliding right through your slick as he moans into you.

You let out a moan so loud that he reaches up and clamps his hand over your mouth. The last thing he needs is Henry waking up and cockblocking him.

He keeps his hand over your mouth, feeling the vibrations of your sighs and whimpers against his palm. If it weren’t for his son sleeping just down the hall, he’d be urging you to let go and be as loud as you wish. Begging you to let him hear just how good he was making you feel.

Your thighs jerk, and James grips you harder, pushing you back down into the sheets. Wetness is beginning to drip down onto the sheets, and the way James sloppily licks and sucks at your cunt doesn’t help the mess. He couldn’t care less about the mess gathering on his sheets. The only thing on his mind is making you feel so good that you can’t possiblythink straight.

At the feeling of the tips of his fingers tracing along your entrance, you moan, desperately nodding your head to tell him to keep going. He listens, slipping a finger slowly into you and curling upwards. He watches transfixed as you arch your back, and he can’t decide which sight he likes more. The sight of his finger slipping into you so easily or the complete look of desperation on your face.

“God, you look so fucking pretty like this.” James hums, pressing a kiss onto your clit before glancing back up at you. Against his better judgment, he pulls his hand away from your mouth, desperate to hear the pretty noises you’re making.

He’s not at all disappointed; the way you moan his name makes him dizzy.

“Got the prettiest pussy too.” He hums, pulling his fingers away to circle your clit. When he pinches your clit you shriek, jolting at the sensation that shoots through you. Your legs are shaking, and you can feel the building hot pressure settling into your body.

James shifts, moving further up your body so that he can settle next to you. His fingers are still rubbing tight circles against your clit, and you don’t get a chance to ask what he’s doing before he’s leaning down and sucking your nipple into his mouth.

The sensation sends you over the edge, vision blurring into white as you’re consumed by the intense, toe-curling orgasm.Your gasp is startingly loud, so James leans down and kisses you hard, muffling your cries as you grip his bicep in one hand and the sheets in the other hand. He keeps the same pace, swirling his fingers over your pussy in the most delicious way as he works you through your orgasm. He slows his movements once he notices your breathing has evened out and your eyes have fluttered open.

“Fuck,” you sigh, your chest heaving as you look up at James with wide, glassy eyes. He smiles down at you, pressing a quick, tender kiss to your lips. At that moment, you’re certain he’s ruined you for any other man—though, truth be told,he did that years ago.

“You’ve got the prettiest moans I’ve ever heard.” He speaks with such sincerity that you’re certain your gaze is filled with the most lovesick adoration.

“James.” You say softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you reach up to gently brush the curls away from his face. Your fingertips graze his skin, lingering for a moment on his cheek as he looks down at you, his eyes filled with an emotion that matches your own.

You know he’s deeply in love with you, just as you are with him.

“What, baby?”

“I want to feel you inside of me.” Your fingers reach down to grasp the waistband of his dress pants. James looks momentarily startled when he glances down and realizes he’s still wearing them. With a flurry of hurried movements, he fumbles to unbutton and shove them off, and you can’t help but giggle at the endearing clumsiness of his efforts.

You barely have time to admire how beautiful he looks before he’s positioning himself over you, his body pressing close. He cages you in with his arms on either side of your head, leaning down to plant a tender kiss on your forehead.

“I need to grab a cond—” James begins as he glances over at his nightstand, but you cut him off with a gentle smile, “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

“But there’s a chance—” He stops himself, the words catching in his throat as he swallows hard, the mere thought too overwhelming to fully process. He can’t let his mind linger on the image of you pregnant with his child; he just can’t.

“I know,” you reply, your voice steady as you give him an encouraging nod, trying to offer reassurance.

James looks so startled that you immediately worry you’ve said the wrong thing. “Please, baby,” he urges, his voice tinged with desperation, “tell me you’re being serious.”

You giggle, “I am.”

“Fuck.” He lets out a low groan, reaching down to grip his cock, dragging the tip through your folds. The sharp gasp you release makes James glance up at you. 

He’s never witnessed anything so captivating. Your eyes are closed, head tilted to the side, with your swollen bottom lip caught between your teeth in a way that drives him wild.

He drags himself further down until he’s lined up with your entrance, and you let out a shaky exhale. As he pushes past your tight walls, he grits his teeth, resisting the urge to shove his hips forward and fill you in one go. But instead, he fixates on your face—the way your brows furrow in pleasure and your lips part, adjusting to the feel of his cock easing in.

“You feel so much better than I imagined, shit.” He gasps, watching the way his cock pushes past your snug entrance and sinks into you slowly. You suck him in so easily, and he swallows hard, silently begging himself to hold it together.

“Jamie, oh my god.” You moan, blindly reaching out a hand to grip his shoulder, the other gripping the sheets.

“I know, baby,” He grunts. “Almost there.” He stills for a second, needing a second to breathe. It’s been ages since he last had sex, and it doesn’t help that it’s you he’s slipping his cock into.

“Keep going, please.” It must be the tone of your voice, that soft, irresistible lilt, that drives him to surge forward as if he can’t hold back any longer. The forceful thrust tears a moan from your throat, your hand instinctively flying up to clutch his as it grips your hip with a possessive intensity. At the touch of your fingers, he instinctively twists his hand to intertwine them with yours. With a steady push, he leans over you, pressing your joined hands into the sheets.

Your eyes flutter open, slowly tracing over him, taking in every detail, before finally locking onto his gaze. He’s just so breathtakingly beautiful. His dark curls fall messily over his forehead, his lips are pink and inviting, and a deep blush colors his cheeks. You’ve never seen him like this before, so vulnerable and raw, and you’re overwhelmed with gratitude that you get to witness him like this, even if it’s just this once.

A gentle kiss lands on your lips, the softness of his touch lingering for a moment. You let out a quiet sigh, your breath blending with his in a simple, shared connection. His lips remain lightly pressed against yours as he drags his cock through your pussy. Your back arches instinctively, and a soft, pleading whine escapes into his mouth.

He quickens the pace, yet it remains slow and tender, leaving you breathless and dazed. As your head tilts to the side, he seizes the moment to press gentle kisses along your shoulder, his touch soothing compared to the burn of pleasure between your thighs.

“God, I love your moans.” He mumbles, rolling his hips into yours. Being this close allows him to hear every sound you make—the soft catch of your breath, the subtle shifts in your sighs, and the faint murmurs of pleasure. Each noise is crisp and intimate, a testament to the closeness you share.

“Love your pretty lips.” He murmurs softly, his voice low and intimate, as he leans in to press his lips against yours. The kiss is gentle but insistent, and you can barely manage to reciprocate, your movements sluggish and overwhelmed. Yet he doesn’t seem to mind; his focus is entirely on making you feel good.

“Love how well you take me.” He murmurs praise with a tender, reverent tone, each word wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The effect is immediate; you release a choked sob as his hand slides from your neck down your body. He gently slides his hand under your thigh, lifting it and securing it over his hip with a possessive yet gentle grip. The shift in position pulls you even closer and has him hitting that delicious spot that makes your mind go blissfully blank.

You’re utterly undone, and it’s all too clear in your voice. Each desperate plea of his name tumbles from your lips,mingled with breathless, disjointed words about how incredible everything feels. The raw vulnerability in your tone, the way you falter and stutter with pleasure, tells him just how close you are

“James, I—” you cry out, your voice breaking as you squeeze his hand with a desperate intensity. Your other hand weaves through his tousled curls, tugging him closer. You pull his lips to yours with an urgent, almost pleading motion, your heart racing as the warmth of his lips meet yours. “I’m gonna cum. Fuck.”

He keeps the rhythm steady, his lips lingering on your cheeks with soft, reverent kisses before moving slowly down your neck. Each kiss is deliberate and tender, a gentle exploration that sends a cascade of shivers across your skin. The warmth of his breath mingles with the sensation of his lips, heightening the intimacy of the moment and deepening the connection between you.

“Fuck, I love you.” He grits out a few strained words, his voice rough and laden with raw emotion. That simple utterance is enough to shatter your composure. In an instant, you’re undone, your body trembling and mind swirling as you surrender entirely to the intensity of the moment.

The intense feeling of you squeezing him tightly, overwhelms his senses, causing his thoughts to dissolve into a haze of pleasure. His body reacts instinctively, and without much warning, he spills into you as he helps you ride out your high. He curses under his breath, his head sinking to your shoulder, the weight of his exhaustion and satisfaction pressing against you.

It takes a moment for both of you to catch your breath, chests heaving and hearts pounding in the aftermath. As you gradually come back to yourselves, he gently pulls away from your shoulder, meeting your glassy-eyed gaze with hisown. You stare at him, wide-eyed, your hair a tangled mess and mascara smudged. Despite the disheveled appearance, he thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful.

“Did I—” you trail off, your voice faltering as you shift your hand from his tangled curls to cradle his cheek gently. Your thumb brushes lightly against his skin, your gaze searching his face. “Did you just say you loved me?” The words come out in a soft, trembling whisper, your eyes wide and filled with a mix of hope and disbelief.

“Yes.” James admits; there’s a shake to his voice as he bites his lip nervously. The admission wasn’t meant to slip out. Instead of apologizing, he shifts his focus to the tears welling up in your eyes. Before he can process it, you lean in and kiss him fiercely, the intensity of emotions seeping through.

“Like you’re in love with me?” You ask, your voice trembling with disbelief. James offers a nervous, yet hopeful smile.

“Uh huh.” He confirms softly, his eyes reflecting a vulnerable sincerity.

“I love you. So fucking much, James Potter.”

please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! 🤍

[ivysangel]

surprise post bc my blogs fixed woo hoo!! i initially sent this as an ask to @hanasnx as my contribution to his baby daddy!jason au, but i also wanted to share it here for u guys as a little treat :p

Baby Daddy!Jason, who you co-parent with, in a very civilized way. No joke, the picture of camaraderie between exes. He takes your daughter on the days he's supposed to (which isn't that often, given his occupation) and brings her back on time, always with a little gift for you as well. Flowers, chocolates, a little knick-knack reminiscent of when you were together. It's not because he's in love with you or anything; it's just the principle of the matter. "Happy wife, happy life," not that you were married or even dating, but he figures the mother of his child should get love sometimes.

Baby Daddy!Jason, who, the next time he sees you, it's to drop off something your daughter forgot with him, and as he's handing you the bag, he casually asks why you haven't been asking him to take her more often. You had been for a while when you were going on dates weekly, but for some reason, the relationships never went anywhere, so you just gave up. "Oh, you know, it just wasn't working out." you say off-handedly, "Kept getting ghosted." you sound only marginally disappointed, moreso annoyed. "What a shame, they're really missing out," he says, getting real close to you and taking up your entire field of vision.

Baby Daddy!Jason, who's got your entire calendar memorized and knows that his daughter's not home tonight and that you've got no plans other than watching movies in solitude. He knows you're too stubborn to call him over for company even though you've been giving him fuck me eyes in passing for the past few months, so he figures he just has to take matters into his own hands and corner you until you give in like he knows you want to.

Baby Daddy!Jason, who fucks you on damn near every surface in the house, telling you he's just christening the place like he would've already done if you lived together. Whispers apologies in your ears about scaring off all of your dates while he's splitting you open, bullying his cock into you while your eyes roll to the back of your head because you haven't been fucked this good in years, not since the last time you'd been with him. You're face is deep in some pillows when you realize the memories you had of his dick pale in comparison to the real thing, and you aren't sure you could go back to using your imagination to get off after tonight.

Baby Daddy!Jason, who keeps you up all night until your pussy's red and puffy from how many times it'd come in contact with his hips while he was fucking you. Fat tip kissing your cervix until you were clawing at his biceps, begging him to give you some reprieve, tears in your eyes while you babbled incoherently, too lost in the feeling of him to make any sense. He admits in the midst of sex that he tried to get over you; he really did, but he just couldn't; he just couldn't picture you with another man in any capacity. The thought of someone else touching you, fucking you, loving you, made his stomach turn, filling him with rage and an overwhelming need to claim you as his.

Baby Daddy!Jason, who's a level-headed, non-fragile ego'd man until it comes to his family, which, contrary to what some would say, did not only consist of his daughter but you too, and any guy who tried to get with you was a threat. he didn't know the intentions of other men, but he knew his own, which was to keep his little family happy as long as he was alive. If that meant putting a gun to the head of anyone who made a move on you and consoling you by stretching you out the way he knew you liked until you just said "fuck it" and let him put another baby in you, then so be it.

[palmerzy]

Hi, I loved your recent Spencer Reid blurb, I was wondering if you would do another nsfw blurb with sub Spence and maybe some Somno?? Like he can’t help himself when he’s so tired and he barely realises what he’s doing? 🫶🫶

hey anon, thanks for requesting! i wasn’t totally sure if you meant reader to spencer or spencer to reader, so i went for the latter - i hope that’s okay! if that’s not what you meant, feel free to send another ask and i’ll appease that <3 for now, please enjoy!

NSFW! - explicit sexual themes, incl. somnophilia. read at your own discretion.

spencer would be coming home late from a case, and he’s just desperate to spend some time with you - to spend some time inside of you.

his face falls when he pushes open the door to his bedroom, seeing your sleeping form already knocked out on his bed, and he internally chides himself for staying behind at the bau longer than he should have. now, his girlfriend is passed out, and he’s sporting a hard on - the taunting punishment for daydreaming on his journey home.

as a responsible man, somewhat, he grumbles to himself but gets ready for bed nonetheless, pouting at the thought of having to go to sleep without being able to share the night with you, knowing it’s his own fault.

he’d climb into bed beside you, narrowing his eyes at the sight of you in just your panties and one of his button ups, like you’re literally messing with him in your sleep. a defeated sigh passes his lips, and he snuggles up against you, his chest against your back as he wills sleep to take him before his thoughts wander too far.

of course, sleep doesn’t take him. not when he can feel you shifting in your unconscious state, your ass pressing just perfectly against his hard-on, something you’re blissfully unaware of. he tells himself he can’t wake you up, not for an issue as small as his petulant neediness.

and yet, spencer recalls a conversation in which you’d told him you wouldn’t mind being woken up with his head between your thighs, or with the tip of his cock nudging against your entrance. well - you’d said it a lot more innocent than that, but he knew the implications. he knows what you’d meant, and he finds himself questioning his morals with how he’s considering it.

in his mind, he draws it up to him simply being tired and needy. he’s been at work all day, barely able to talk to you, and then he comes home to find you asleep. he can’t help feeling a little down, a little pouty, and a little bit guilty as he reaches down between your bodies to pull your panties aside.

he waits for a reaction, and even when he gets none, he perseveres. a finger dips beneath your folds, testing the waters, and his slightly drowsy mind is elated to find you just about wet enough for him. you’ve been wetter, sure, but he knows you’re sleeping, your body isn’t anticipating him. that’s what you wanted, right? to be woken up by him? he’s just providing his partner with what they’d wanted. he’s a good boyfriend.

his mind is a blur when he tugs his pyjama pants down and pushes forward, eyes rolling back when he sinks into your warmth, your body involuntarily clenching around him.

with furrowed brows, he studies your body, waiting for you to stir awake. he’s silently begging for you to wake up so he can continue, so he can have his fill of you and then the both of you can get some sleep.

when you don’t, he stills, keeping himself sheathed within you. he’s at war with his mind, debating on whether or not to keep going. he knows he’s not in his right mind, not with how tired he is after a long days work. he should pull out and just go take care of himself.

but he doesn’t, and it’s not long before he’s slowly thrusting up into you, biting down on his bottom lip to muffle his whines. he’s not a massive fan of taking you from behind, he likes to see your face, but he has no choice here - spooning you as he gently grasps your hip, his cock half submerged into your unknowing body.

he continues like that for at least a minute, muffled gasps and whimpers passing his pursed lips as he shallowly dips into you over and over, refusing to come from his invasion. he wants you to wake up, he really does, yet he can’t deny how good it feels to be able to satisfy himself with your body like this, and he finds his guilt rising more with each second.

when you finally awaken, his face lights up, his cock stilling and feeling your pussy clench around him, as if pulling him further in. “spence?” you’d mumble ever so quietly, and he swears he could’ve come just from the sound. he’d nod slowly, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder, whispering sweet apologies. “‘m so sorry,” “couldn’t help myself, i tried- mmph, i really tried,” “is this okay? please tell me it’s okay,” he’d whimper over and over, until you were nodding, telling him you were going back to sleep and allowing you to find his own pleasure, finally pressing his cock as deep as he’d originally wanted to, guilt washed away.

askbox open, come talk to me about spence <3

[redr0sewrites]

not possible - Viktor x reader

🥀A/n: this was originally a request but it strayed wayyy too far off course... the writing had a mind of its own and im not sorry. but i AM sorry for not posting in a while.... ive been super hyperfixated on DC sorry

🥀Cw: fluff, non-sexual nudity, bathing, exhaustion/overworking

🥀Word Count: 1.2k words

🥀Synopsis: Viktor is overworking yet again, yet upon your insistence, finally takes a break.

Viktor was well aware that the candle at his side had long since burnt out, yet he was unwilling to find a replacement. the moon was bright tonight, and, combined with the soft blue glow emitting from the hextech he was working on, Viktor could make out the tools in front of him without any assistance.

he knew that working in the dim light was not a good idea, considering how straining ones' eyes could lead to faulty vision, but he couldn't bring himself to care. the ache in his bones ran deep, and his fingers shook with each breath. of course Viktor knew he should turn in for the night, but he found himself stuck in his chair, mindlessly fiddling with his most recent hextech project.

he was so engrossed in his work, he barely noticed your approach until you were practically on top of him. familiar hands find purchase on his shoulders and he jumps, only to melt back into your touch.

"ah, it's you," Viktor murmurs, turning around to face you. "may i ask, what are you doing up so late?"

"collecting you," you murmur, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. "it's already two in the morning. you've been here long enough."

Viktor sighs, and allows you to press a few more kisses to his face. the bags beneath his eyes were heavy, he was stiff and sore, and above all, he was exhausted.

joining you back home was certainly enticing, and hextech could always wait until tomorrow. and yet, the troublesome, burning itch beneath his skin wouldn't dissipate. he needed to complete just one more ruin combination, just finish this one little task, and then he'd let himself rest. at least, that's what he'd been telling himself for the past three hours.

"i can tell your overworking yourself again," you whisper, and Viktor huffs indignantly.

"overworking is, eh, a strong word. i am perfectly capable-" you cut him off by cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you.

"Viktor, i am in no way denying your capabilities. however, you still need sleep. so, come back with me, and you can continue working tomorrow after a full nights rest. does that work?"

Viktor heaves another weary sigh, but agrees. you silently watch as he stands and steadies himself with his cane, not wanting to appear too overbearing but still concerned about his exhaustion. you wish you could alleviate some of the stress and burden that he carries, even though he relentlessly assured you that loving him was enough.

meanwhile, Viktor wordlessly packs up for the night. he knew you were trying to mask it for his own dignity, but the concern on your face was evident in the slightest furrow of your brow and pinch of your lips. he found it hopelessly endearing how you worried over him, and only wished that you would stop for your own sake.

after all, he was doing this for you. for the chance to live happily with you someday, after saving the lives of so many others. hextech consumed so much of his time, yet Viktor intended to make it up to you tenfold when you two would grow old together.

"you ready to head home?" your voice slices through his thoughts like a knife through warm butter, and he finds himself unable to do anything but nod. you did not hesitate to take his hand as you two walk back towards your shared abode, nor did you complain when he had to pause and catch his breath after some particularly bad pain in his leg. by the time you both arrived at your home, Viktor felt even more exhausted.

"i know it's late, but do you want to take a bath before going to bed?" your question lingers in the air for a few seconds before Viktor nods, and you begin setting up. you both know the warm water would only soothe his aching joints, and provide momentary relief from the pain he suffers from.

🥀

its not long before you and Viktor are curled against eachother in your large bathtub after washing off. he presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder as he absentmindedly washed your back, and you let out a relaxed sigh. you were both night-owls, but Viktor was much more accustomed to fighting off exhaustion.

you bite down on your bottom lip as more worries begin to seep into your mind. you feel almost selfish for missing him when he works so hard, and yet you want nothing more than to take all of his stress away. Viktor is quick to notice as you slip deeper in thought, between your tense muscles and quickened breathing, he can read you like a book.

"what are you thinking about, darling?"

another weary sigh escapes you.

"its just... you've been so stressed lately, i just wish i could alleviate some of the burdens you carry.. i know what you do is important, but i still wish i could be around you more often and help you.. y'know?" you let out another sigh. "i just.. miss you sometimes. and i worry. you know i worry.." Viktor chuckles at your words before turning you around to face him, the warm water around you both sloshing gently against the edge of the bath.

"you do more than enough already. believe me, everything i do, i do for you. for us. i love you," he murmurs, and presses a kiss to your forehead, "and nothing will change that. i can't guarantee that i'll always be around... but i will try to stop staying in the lab so late." Viktor's lips crinkle into a soft smile, and you can't help but kiss him in response.

Viktor always feels as though he's floating when you kiss. your soft lips against his, the contrast of his nimble, calloused hands against your smooth skin, your scent, your taste, it was all gloriously intoxicating. you hum against his lips before slowly pulling away, lashes fluttering against his cheek from your proximity.

Viktor leans in to whisper in your ear, his lips just ghosting your temple.

"i think it's high time we went to bed, dear. the waters getting cold, and i wouldn't want my beautiful darling to be exhausted tomorrow, hm?" you sigh at his flattery, yet agree regardless. as Viktor leans against the tub to stand up, you suddenly remember something and grab his hand to get his attention.

"hm?"

"by the way, about what you said earlier.... i love you more."

"that is not possible, my dearest."

GRRR SO HAPPY THIS IS DONE LMAO- sorry i havent been super active ive been on a huge DC kick (specifically the batfam/dick grayson) and suffering from writers block BUT HERE I AM AGAIN!!!!!!!!! ANYWAYS HOPE U ENJOYEDDDD PLS FEEL FREE TO SEND IN REQUESTS (esp dc... HEHE)

[biteyoubiteme]

study break

fem!reader x han jisung

synopsis: you take a study break with your boyfriend

warnings: 🔞!! slightly innocent reader, some nipple play, fingering, oral (f!rec), prob forgot some sorry

wc: 2k

an: this was a request but my inbox ate it ;-; hope i got everything anon asked for :)) not proofread sorry :( feedback appreciated! [m.list]

You have been at your desk for over six hours studying for your next exam. Hand cramping from all the notes you were copying down from slides you missed a few weeks ago. Ones that you finally remembered you needed to go over. You had only stepped away for a shower a few minutes ago to try and calm your mind after nearly crying over a worksheet. Pacing back and forth before you caught sight of your shower caddy deciding that if the shower didn’t work as a refresher then you would just take whatever grade you got and would have to live with it. 

It wasn’t until the knocking at your door that you realized how stressed you had been. The evening you had planned with your boyfriend was forgotten until you pulled open the door to see him standing in the hallway of your dorm. 

“So you are alive,” Han smiles as soon as you open the door. His hair curled around his ears, dotted with droplets of rain. 

“nooo I missed our date,” you softly whine leaning your head on the door. The past couple of times you've studied you turned on an app that locked your phone to help with distractions. Only now it was backfiring because Han had been trying to reach you to remind you of your night out. “I'm so sorry Han I swear I didn't do it on purpose I haven't even thought about anything else besides this exam,” 

“it's okay i kinda figured so I picked up dinner,” he holds up the paper bag in his hand. 

“I'm the worst,” and he only smiles shaking his head, “You perfect, I should have known that scheduling a date the night before an exam was not the best idea,” 

you wave him into the small space, your books a mess on your desk, the bed rumpled and unmade. Your roommate's side is just as lived in even for her off staying at her boyfriends most of the time. You're sure this is the first time hans been in here besides you picking up something but he never made it past the doorway. 

The two of you have only been seeing each other for little dates for a few weeks now. You shared a class together, working next to each other in silence for most of the semester before he asked for help on an assignment he didn't need help with at all. Confessing later that he only just got up the courage to speak and used the work as an excuse. You're closer to friends than you are really dating with how slow the two of you are moving. Neither of you moved past holding hands and one interrupted make out session. But you were new to everything and Jisung was patient. 

Han kicked off his shoes, setting the food down at the edge of your desk. “Have you taken a break at all?” 

“I mean I showered,” you shrug, your hair is still wet, droplets of water soaking your tank top. You didn't even notice how the fabric was wet enough to leave nothing to the imagination. The outline of your nipples draws hans eyes right to your chest. 

“You are all wet,” he smiles, biting the tip of his tongue. You can feel your skin getting hot, trying to play off his stare by rolling your eyes.

“Usually what happens after a shower,” you collect a few of your books, closing and stacking them up to make room. Shuffling papers around and making sure to check you have everything turned in before the exam. You're leaning over your chair looking at the assignments calendar online when you see you forgot to submit last week's discussion post. Your light sigh is enough for Jisung to place his hand on your back leaning next to you to see what you are now focused on. 

“It's already late, maybe you should save it for the morning,” he suggests, warming up your lower back as he rubs soft circles against your skin. 

“it's only one question, it better to just get it over with so I'm not stressing more than I already am,” although it's the last thing you want to do, already you have given up after your long day. But you rolled your chair out sitting down to work out one more question. “you should just start eating so your food doesn't get cold,” 

“no no I picked up sandwiches from the cafe by the library I can wait,” he stands behind you, hands on your shoulders, fingers flicking over the thin straps of your tank top. 

You pull up the post not realizing the link attached was for a document you had to read consisting of six long sheets of tiny text. Your sigh is more of a groan this time, hans chuckle right at your ear as he looks over your shoulder. “I think that's the kind you need the magnifier tool for,” 

“why the hell would anyone use text that small,” you can feel the weight of the day landing heavy right at your feet. Just when you hoped to be done, to only have to overview notes you hated this. Your teeth sink into your cheek trying to will yourself not to cry over something so stupid. You were so close to finishing not only the day but your class, one assignment wouldn't kill your grade but just knowing it was going undone would kill your pride. You let your head fall to your hands, the heels of your palms pressed to the sockets of your eyes like that would will your tears away. 

“Hey,” Han whispers, pushing a few strands of hair behind your ear, “come on let's take a longer break than just a shower, we can worry about that later,” his hands slip over your arms, sliding up and down, chin on your shoulder, nose bumping your ear. 

“Sorry, I've just been so overwhelmed with everything,” you say, rubbing at your eyes, feeling a bit embarrassed. 

“That's okay, you just need to relax, lay back, and forget school for a second,” his breath is ghosting over your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. His hands go to your stomach, finger tracing the seam of your top. “you know I could help you with that,” his nose brushes down behind your ear and down your neck, lips leaving slight pecks on your skin. 

“t-the assignment?” It's a stupid question but you're not past the brain fog, now worsened by Han giving you the softest kisses on your neck. Your head falling back, eyes closed as he fell into the feel of you. 

“no,” he kisses at your jaw, “not the assignment,” one hand slipping up your stomach, knuckles brushing your nipple. “is this okay?” 

“yes,” you nod, reaching up behind you to twist your fingers into his hair. Your back bowed as he cupped you over the thin material of your shirt, fingers rolling over your pebbled nipples, his lips sucking marks onto your skin. 

His free hand starts to slip past the waistband of your shorts, your breath catching in your throat, “you don't have to do that,” he pulls his hand back to your stomach. 

“Do you not want me to? We can slow down or stop, whatever you want,” now you're more than a little bit embarrassed. 

“No it's not that I want you to stop, I just- I've never really had anyone do that before,” you confess, face hot enough to thank the fact your back is to han. It wasn't that you were against it, only that you spent most time inside studying instead of going out and meeting guys to hook up with. And from what friends have said some guys don't like going down on girls with their mouths or hands. “and I know some guys don't like it,” 

“yeah the wrong guys,” he chuckles the rumble of his laugh right in your ear before he kisses over the mark he made on your neck, “I on the other hand have been thinking of devouring you the second you sat down next to me that first day in class wearing that little skirt,” 

“Really?” his fingers tugging the waistband of your shorts before letting it snap back in place. 

“uh huh, thinking about how good you would taste, how pretty you would look cumming on my tongue, how perfect you would sound,” your hips instinctively roll at the idea, Han's hand slipping back under your waistband. “Would you like that?” 

“Yes,” the whisper is enough for Han to pull your chair out from under the desk, kneeling before you looking up like you set the best platter before him. 

He kisses your knee hands sliding up the side of your thighs to tug down your shorts and panties. You should feel exposed or even a little bit shy but Han is licking his lips, eyes flickering between your glistening cunt and your face. “Even prettier than I imagined,” hooking his hands at the back of your knees he pulls you to the edge of the chair, slotting your legs over his shoulders as you lean back gripping the seat watching what he’ll do next. 

“Are you just going to like...kiss it?” 

“I plan on suffocating between your thighs so maybe a lot more than kissing,” he peppers kisses all along your thigh, your legs already trying to close at how each kiss sends a tingle straight to your clit. 

When he finally leans down and his lips brush over your swollen nub you know you're done for. His light kiss was enough to send all thoughts and stress right out the window. And when he licks up your wetness from your entrance and swipes up to your clit latching on and sucking your head falls back and you let out a moan that doesn't sound like you. Jisungs hands move to hold your hips in place. 

You swear you see stars as he sucks before he pulls away your whine making him chuckle, “Do you like it?” 

Your hand moves to his hair wanting to tug him back down, “please don't stop now,” 

“Look at you trying new things,” he gives light kisses to your folds, loving to watch your hips try to work on their own to get his mouth back on your clit. “already doing so good at being responsive to my touch,” 

“Hannie please,” you beg and he doesn't hold back. He sucks your clit into his mouth, letting one hand free from holding you down to raise in front of you.

“suck my fingers and get them all wet and ready for me to get you to cum on them,” slipping them into your mouth you follow his orders letting them roll on your tongue before he pulls them back to rub on your pussy. 

Your orgasm was building in the pit of your stomach, every flick of his tongue pushing you closer to the edge. Your legs jolt at the feel of his finger prodding your entrance, knees pulling in before he shakes his head, “Relax baby,” letting your other hip go he presses the pad of his thumb to your clit rubbing at a soft rhythm until your legs rest back on his shoulders. He's slow to slip his first finger in, dragging it out before adding the second. His smile is starstruck, feeling along your gummy walls like he found heaven, “look at that, you're doing so good for me,” the slow pumps of his fingers take up more of your mind until he leans back down to suck on your clit. 

Thighs trembling your head rolls back, eyes shut trying to catch your breath before you're cumming, Han pressing his fingers into your g-spot like he's always known your body. Han is swallowing all your cum down like he can't get enough of it, burying his face in your pussy as you pulse around his fingers. Your hand on his hair starts to tug harder, your hips thrusting into his face, knees closing in around his ears. He is slow to pull away from you but knows he shouldn't overstimulate you the first time. “now if you ever need me to take your mind off of anything, you don't even have to ask I'll be right here on my knees ready for you,”

[marauder-misprint]

Mystery Girl

Sirius Black x fem!Gryffindor!reader

5.7k words

cw: pining, bad flirting advice, fluff

You allow yourself to gaze in his direction for longer than usual. Your head is propped up on your hand, elbow resting on your desk, as you tap the tip of your quill to your lip in faux-thought. Professor Flitwick had announced the rest of class was to be used to work on the essay he assigned last class. Yours is about half done. You really should be thinking about what to write next, or looking up more information in your textbook. But, alas, you stare at Sirius with no real thoughts in your head. If anyone asked though, you would say it was just his general direction. 

Sirius isn’t even pretending to work. He’s having a full fledged whispered conversation with James, occasionally leaning forward to include Peter and Remus, the latter of which is attempting to finish his essay. You’re a bit surprised that Remus hasn’t finished it already, but with friends like Sirius, James and Peter, getting work done can be a challenge. 

Every once in a while, Sirius looks in your direction and flashes you his impish grin. It’s nothing out of the ordinary. You’re close friends; you’re one of the few that knows he’s an animagus. A few too many drinks one night got you that information. He recapped the whole process for you that night, which left you wondering how he managed to go through it all without mentioning it to you. The more you thought about it afterwards, the more you realized that his letters that summer were particularly odd. 

You became friends with Sirius during second year when you shared a detention with McGonagall. She had you scraping gum off the bottom of desks while Sirius was sweeping ash off the floor and then mopping and polishing. It was a long and grueling evening for two 12-year-olds. Through complaining and cracking jokes, you managed to survive and a friendship was fostered. It certainly helped that you continued to get assigned detention together over the years. 

Somewhere between here and there, you realized that you wanted more than friendship from Sirius, but with him being who he is, you had no way of knowing if your feelings were reciprocated. You buried them as deep as you could. You didn’t want any of your friends, especially the mutual ones with Sirius, to know that you had a crush on him. You’d rather live in the pain of watching him flirt with girl after girl that wasn’t you but have him as a dear friend than live in that same world except have him reject you and never speak to you again. 

His wild grin brings you out of your thoughts. He raises his eyebrows as you shiver violently. You look down at your essay, not giving Sirius any attention. You figure he’ll assume you were zoned out, which you were to a point. You don’t let your graze fall back on him for the rest of class, allowing you to miss how he looked back at you several times. 

Sirius catches up with you when Flitwick dismisses everyone. Not having worked on his essay, putting his stuff away had only taken him a moment while you carefully place your things into your bag. 

“Must’ve had some train of thought going,” he muses, leaning on your desk slightly.

 “What do you mean?” you ask, not looking up.

“Could’ve sworn you were staring right at me. I acknowledge you and nothing!”

You hum. “Then, yeah, I suppose. I was trying to make some progress.”

“And did you?” he asks as you leave the classroom and walk together to your next class.

“Not much,” you sigh. “Added a paragraph but it’s still too short. Can’t even bewitch my handwriting to be larger to make it close enough.” 

“We can work on it later. I have…” His voice trails off as he looks at the parchment hastily shoved into his Charms’ book. “Half of an introduction.”

You laugh as you gently bump into Sirius. You are mildly surprised that he even had that much done, but once he sits down and actually works on it, Sirius will finish his much faster than you ever could. At least he was offering to work on it with you. That meant you could ask him to look over yours when you finally finished. 

---

The common room empties out slowly as students head to bed. You’ve been sitting on the couch since dinner with your History of Magic textbook laying in your lap, open yet unread. Your eyes are unfocused, staring at the dancing flames in the hearth. Every once in a while you pick up sentences from your friends sitting around you. It’s nothing too exciting. The boys are discussing the intricate details for their next pranks on the Slytherins; the girls making plans for the next Hogsmeade weekend. And you were supposed to be catching up on the assigned reading.

It isn’t until Sirius falls dramatically into your lap that you tear your eyes away from the fire to see that everyone else has gone to bed. His dark hair splays across your book as he looks up at you with his stormy grey eyes.

“Did you finish the chapter?” he asks with a lazy smile. “Or were you seeking divine intervention from the fire?” 

“Divine intervention,” you reply, lifting his head ever so gently so you could remove your book, close it and set it aside. “The creation of the Being Division in the 1800s by some bloke Stumpy? End me now.” 

Sirius chuckles. 

“I’m glad Binns didn’t assign an essay on it. Imagine!” he says, making you smile. “There’s that smile. It’s not like it’ll be on an exam or anything.”

“Sirius, you know it will.” 

“And you can look at my paper. Or James’. Remus. Peter, wait… maybe not Peter. But Lily and Marlene would be okay.”

“And that’s cheating. It’s one thing on essays, but exams are another.” 

“Fine, study. Put in more effort than you need to.”

You ruffle his hair in response, earning you a noise of complaint from Sirius. You are allowed to play with his hair when it involves running your fingers through it or braiding it. Ruffling it and making it messy? Treason.

“Can I… talk to you about something?” Sirius asks as he adjusts in your lap. 

“I don’t know… Talking? Us? I don’t think we’ve ever done that before!” you tease sarcastically. 

“No, really, love. I need your opinion on something.” 

There is something more earnest in his voice that tells you it’s serious. You know he debated saying that it is but knew you would laugh and say that everything is Sirius with him. It was a dumb joke that you couldn’t get enough of. 

You nod somberly.

“Yeah, Sirius. We can talk about anything.” 

“So… there’s this girl.”

That one sentence is a punch to your gut. He wants to talk to you about a girl? While past girlfriends have come up in conversations before, it was always a fleeting topic, or they were key players in a story, like dates gone wrong. You thought it was understood that your friendship with Sirius avoided each other’s love lives - not that you ever had a boy to talk about with him.

“O-okay,” you manage to say. 

“I really like her. I just… I can’t tell if she likes me and the boys are no help.”

“So you’ve come to me because I’m oh-so-experienced in love?” 

“I came to you because you’re a girl. How do girls show that they’re interested when they aren’t obviously flirting?” 

You poke his cheek as you say, “Used to the obvious flirting, aren’t you?” 

He grins up at you. “Obviously.”

“Well, from what I know, they lean in when you talk, laughing at any and every stupid joke you make. When they touch you, they let their hand linger, especially if it’s on your hand or arm.” You demonstrate your point by touching his bicep and giving it a gentle squeeze. “A little more brazen, they’ll compliment you subtly. You should be able to see it in their smile. Maybe they’ll flutter their eyelashes at you if they are bold. Or desperate. They’ll also jump to your side if you’re alone.” You sigh. “Again, you know I’m too experienced with this flirting thing so…”

“Yeah, but you must’ve flirted with guys before. You’re no hermit.”

You exhale out of your nose. “I don’t flirt much.”

“Much! So you do! Your expertise shan’t be taken for granted!” 

Your expertise. Sirius really has you on a pedestal. You sit with him for a while longer, running your fingers through his hair to make up for your earlier ruffling. He closes his eyes as he enjoys the feeling. 

Over the next few days, you make a point to not do any of the things you listed off as flirting. You only lean forward when he talks at meals so you can have the excuse of needing to be able to hear him better. You rarely find yourself in a position to have your hand on his so that wasn’t an issue. You aren’t one to bat your eyelashes or stroke his ego. Your two vices are laughing and being at his side, but he’s your best friend. Could you really be expected to not spend time with him and enjoy yourself when you are with him? You think you’ve played it off fairly well.

Sirius thinks you’ve given him faulty advice. He is hyper aware of every interaction he has with this girl. He’s overanalyzing every move she moves around him, and every move he makes. What’s even more frustrating to him is that some of the things you listed off, he can’t imagine her doing. It’s just not who she is. 

He decides to bring it up again to you in the Transfiguration Courtyard after classes. James and Marlene are tossing a quaffle back and forth while Lily, Mary, Remus and Peter work on various assignments. You and Sirius are sharing a pack of cigarettes off to the side at Mary’s request. She claims she can’t focus when there’s a cloud of smoke around her head. There’s enough space between you and the rest of the group which gives Sirius the privacy he requires for this topic.

“You know that girl I was telling you about?” he asks you.

“The one you’re so in love with?” 

“Yeah, that’d be the one.”

“Then, yes, I know of her. You never told me who it is though.” 

“That’s not important right now,” he says, running a hand through his hair before immediately shaking it out. “She’s not doing any of those non-obvious flirting things you said.”

“She’s not?” you echo with your eyebrows raised. What girl could resist the temptations of Sirius? 

“She’s not. But now I’m wondering if I’m the problem?” 

You laugh loudly. Sirius’ firm gaze and stoney expression tell you he’s not messing around like you assumed he would be. 

“Tell me how you, you, could be the problem?”

“Like I told you before, I really like this girl. I do. She’s amazing, a real sweetheart, and I don’t want to mess it up before it’s gone anywhere. So I haven’t flirted with her the same way I’ve flirted with other girls.”

“Damn, Black. You must really like this girl.”

“I do. So much.” He takes a breath and leans in a hair. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong though. I know she wouldn’t like my usual flirting. She doesn’t respond to the new method. How do I get this girl’s attention?” 

You sigh and shake your head.

“It’d be easier to help you if I knew who it was,” you tell him. 

“Yeah, I know that, but I… I can’t tell you.”

“Sirius-” you chastise. 

“Love, I can’t tell you.”

“Have you asked the boys how to flirt with this mystery girl?”

“Sirius Black, master flirt, is not going to those virgins for help.”

You bite inside of your cheek to keep from laughing at the absurdity of it all: Sirius calling himself a master flirt, knowing damn well that James and Remus weren’t virgins, and that Sirius was willing to come to you, an actual virgin, for help. 

“So what do I do?” 

You can’t hold back your laughter any more. It breaks through. You expect Sirius to look upset at your laughing but instead he’s smiling at you. 

“I’m not trying to be mean, Sirius, but you do know who you’re talking to, right? A girl who’s never been flirted with? And you’re turning down asking Potter, king of pining, for advice? Like I’m one hundred percent sure that Lily knows he likes her.” 

You glance toward James and then Lily. You missed the flash of disappointment that crosses Sirius’ face when you say you’ve never been flirted with. He knows for a fact it isn’t true, but it wouldn’t help his cause now to tell you otherwise.

“I’m talking to my best friend who I think is more perceptive than she realizes,” he states. “Humor me: how would you like to be flirted with?”

How would you like to be flirted with? The question repeats in your mind as you think. Sirius can practically see the gears turning in your head. He waits patiently for your answer. It has the potential to change everything for him.

“I… I want genuine compliments. I want to be told that I’m pretty but also that I’m enough and to hear what they like about me, you know, beyond looks. I want them to choose to spend time with me. I want them to do all that chivalrous, gentleman-y things like carrying my books and holding doors,” you list off. As you continue your ramble, your face grows hot. “I sound like a spoiled child,” you laugh. “I want, I want, I want.” 

Sirius smiles at you with an adoring look in his eyes. 

“Maybe so, but I did ask you what you wanted.” He tucks a bit of hair behind your ear. “So no big, grand gestures for you? I’ll make sure to tell all your suitors.”

You roll your eyes as you’re fairly certain there are no potential suitors for him to tell. 

“I don’t know how you’ve been flirting with this mystery girl if it hasn’t been your usual tactics, but the little things really do add up.”

“Would you believe me if I told you that I went from one extreme to the other?”

“Why, yes, yes I would,” you smirk. 

“Oi! Looks like rain, we’re going in!” Lily yells in your direction. 

Sirius stands up first and holds out his hand to help you up. 

Throughout the rest of the week, it’s like a switch flipped in Sirius. He’s more attached to you than normal. He’s always there to hold open a door for you, to offer to carry your books or put your supplies away. He starts using pet names with you more. You find it all a bit peculiar. He was spending so much energy on you rather than trying to win over his mystery girl. You try not to think too hard on it. 

When the weekend came, your whole friend group made their way to the quidditch pitch. It was nice when Gryffindor wasn’t playing so James and Marlene could jeer at the players, complain about calls and plays and explain moves to everyone. They bring a higher energy to the stands. But you couldn’t focus on their comments too much. Sirius is pressed into your side with how packed the Gryffindor section is. To make it more comfortable, he draped his arm loosely over your shoulder. His cologne overtakes the rest of the smells that accompany the stands. You’re not complaining about that, but it did make it hard to think about anything else. Again, you try not think too hard about Sirius’ mystery girl, or the fact that your body is much closer to Sirius’ than Lily’s, who was on your other side. 

After Ravenclaw beats Hufflepuff, you claim a table for yourself in the common room. You have an essay for Transfiguration to finish. Lily and Marlene had fretted earlier about your insistence on getting it done today when you had all of tomorrow to work on it and there was a party tonight. They certainly didn’t like you pointing out that it was Ravenclaw’s party so your presence wouldn’t be missed and you had more homework to do tomorrow. Merlin forbid school didn’t come easy to you. 

When they accepted that you were a lost cause for the night, they grabbed Mary and left. You are able to work in peace for a little over half an hour. Then the Marauders traipsed down the stairs. Their sheer presence sends energy pulsing through the room. You briefly look up as they pass your table. Sirius spins around after passing you and walks up to you, slamming his hands on the table.

“Why aren’t you at the party?” he demands. “Pretty girls belong at parties.” 

You feel your cheeks warm. You drag the feather end of your quill over the pages of the open book and essay in front of you.

“These essays. They never seem to write themselves.”

“So you’re just not going to the party?” 

“Padfoot! Come on,” James calls.

“Love?” Sirius asks, ignoring his friends. 

You sigh and look up at him. He’s looking at you so ardently. 

“Not until I finish this essay. So I’ll either be extremely late or I won’t go,” you answer him. 

He pulls out the chair across from you.

“Head over without me! We’ll catch up later,” he yells over his shoulder as he sits down.

Then he grabs your essay, scanning it to see how far along you are.

“Sirius, go to the party,” you tell him, reaching for your essay but he holds it out of your reach. “Your mystery girl is probably there. You could be making your move. My essay will get done.”

“Mystery girl will be there whenever I get there. However, your essay is more important than any party, and I don’t want to go if you’re not there.” He flashes you his wide grin. “How can you expect me to have fun when I know you’re back here, suffering?”

You sigh and lean back in your chair. With you no longer reaching for your essay, Sirius is able to finish reading it over. He hands it back to you and grabs your book. He flips a few pages before placing it back in front of you and pointing to a second you hadn’t looked at yet.

“You’re closer to finishing that essay than you think, love. You really just need a summary of that section and a conclusion. Then it’s upstairs to change and party time!” 

“Thanks, Sirius.” 

You lean over the desk to read the section he pointed out. After a few minutes, you glance up at him. He’s been watching you read and make notes. 

“You don’t have to wait for me. I’ll find you at the party when I’m done,” you say, although you have half a mind to crawl into bed when you’re done. Especially if Sirius’ mystery girl is at this party, you’re not sure if you have it in you to watch him flirt with her, a girl he seems to be in love with. 

“Please, don’t act like I don’t know you. If I leave now without you, you won’t go. You’ll finish the essay and then you’ll hide here. Nope. You’re going to have fun tonight if I have anything to do with it.”

“Fine…” you mumble, turning back to the book to reread the last paragraph. 

Another half an hour or so passes until you’re semi-satisfied with your essay. You set your quill down as you reread the entire thing, a frown appearing on your face. It’s not nearly as good as you want it to be. You should probably rewrite it.

“Ah, give it here,” Sirius says, holding his hand out expectantly. 

“It’s no good,” you reply, shaking your head. “I need to rewrite it.”

“Let me read it. I’m sure it’s fine.” He tilts his head while giving you a firm look. “Go change. I’ll read it while you’re gone. If it’s as bad as you think it is, we’ll work on it more. If you’re being hard on yourself, we’ll get you a drink to help you unwind.”

You sigh dramatically. You leave the essay on the desk for Sirius to grab, instead of handing to him. You trudge up the stairs to your dorm to change into something more party-like. Your indecisiveness means that you try on several outfits before finding something that you don’t hate. You don’t want to look like too much, too good. If you’re going to try to help Sirius get this mystery girl, you couldn’t be outshining her. 

When you return to the common room, Sirius has cleaned up all of your things into neat piles. 

“Oh, you look lovely!” he declares when he notices that you’re back. “And your essay, easily an E. Trust me. We ensure that Pete gets at least an A on every essay and that was better than what he’s turning in.” 

You roll your eyes at the ‘we’. You knew the Marauders often treated homework as group assignments. He holds out his arm for you to take, which you do with some hesitation. 

“Shall we go find your girl at this party?” you ask.

“We shall,” he says with a smile as he leads you out of the Gryffindor Common Room and toward Ravenclaw Tower. 

Once past the eagle knocker, Sirius is quick to get a drink in both his and your hands. You scan the room, seeing the rest of the Marauders and your other friends. You aren’t looking for them though. You’re trying to see if you can spot the girl who is so beautiful and desirable that Sirius would switch up his methods to diminish the risk of losing her. 

“Let’s find your girl,” you say, leaning into Sirius’ shoulder. 

He doesn’t say anything, but he guides you around the room. You pause to say hi to some of your friends in Ravenclaw. You expect Sirius to keep walking in search of the girl. He doesn’t. He remains at your shoulder, giving friendly smiles to the people you’re talking to. You lead him toward where the other Gryffindors are gathered. 

“Black!” Marlene yells as she grabs him by his shoulders. “Thank you for getting her out!” 

You’re taken aback by her comment, although it wasn’t uncommon for you to miss a party. You often found yourself reminding your friends that Hogwarts was in fact a school and not a party central. 

“Oh, it’s my pleasure,” he tells Marlene, grinning. 

He puts an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him. You feel your face burn so you try to hide it with your cup. Maybe you can pass it off as the room being too hot or being flushed from the alcohol. Only Sirius knows it’s your first drink, right? 

You try to focus on what your friends are saying and laughing about, but the feeling of Sirius’ arm, his hand and his body are too much. Your body feels like it’s being constantly electrocuted. You take slow sips from your cup, as if the drink will somehow alleviate the feeling. You can only imagine how this looks to his mystery girl. You pressed into Sirius’ side with his arm around you as he talks and laughs? You’re trying not to melt into his touch. You try to keep the idea of this other girl in your mind. But you like having his arm around you a bit too much. 

“Shit, this is a good song!” Sirius roars before lowering his voice to whisper in your ear, “Dance with me, lovely?” 

You look up with him with concerned eyes. “How will that look to that girl you really like?”

You hate that you have to keep reminding him that he was supposed to be looking for this girl and flirting with her, rather than spending all of his time with you. He just gives you his trademark smile.

“It will show off my amazing dancing skills. Come on, you didn’t say no!”

He pulls you away from your friends into the crowds of people dancing. Sirius is far more at his leisure than you are. You would much rather be on a bench off to the side, sipping on a new drink as the music fills your senses. At least, you think that until Sirius has his hands on your hips, helping you move to the music.

“Ah, there it is! She does have rhythm!” he cheers with his face close to yours. It’s close enough to feel the heat of his breath and to smell the spiked punch. 

Everything about the moment makes your heart pound in your chest. For a second, the idea of his mystery girl flits into your mind, but she is banished as Sirius spins you around. Your laughter mixes with his and the sounds of people around you, laughing themselves and singing along to the music. You never fancied yourself a dancer before now, but with Sirius so close and all of his attention on you, it feels right. You wouldn’t mind if you could live in this moment forever. 

When the music switches to something slower, you prepare yourself to see Sirius move back toward your friends. You don’t expect him to place his hands on your waist and pull you even closer. 

You don’t expect him to lean in and whisper, “Put your hands around my neck, sweetheart. That’s how you slow dance.”

You do as told. It makes it easier to hide your bright red face in his shoulder. You know how to slow dance; you just never did it with anyone before. You certainly hadn’t expected your first slow dance to be with Sirius. It made sense to a point though that it would be with your best guy friend, someone you were comfortable with. 

The song ends too soon for you. The next song is back to the upbeat rhythm that previously filled the room. Your heart beat is too loud in your ears to process it.

“I need another drink,” you tell Sirius before walking away from him.

You did need a drink, but you also need a moment away from him. ‘He’s in love with someone else’ is on repeat in your head. You can’t have yourself falling deeper in love with him when you know his heart belongs to someone else, someone he wouldn’t even tell you the name of. 

When you have a fresh glass in your hand, you turn to look for Sirius in the crowd where you left him. He’s not there. You spot him back with the Marauders. It makes you frown. He was supposed to be finding this girl and asking her to dance, not spending the whole night with you and the boys. You want to remind him of that, but something prevents you from doing it. You walk over to the girls, hoping that maybe they’re talking about something interesting.

“Isn’t this so much better than essays?” Lily asks, leaning almost all of her body weight on your shoulder as soon as you join them.

“I mean, I guess so,” you answer.

“Oh, please,” Mary laughs. “It looked like you were enjoying yourself with Sirius out there.” 

Your blush immediately returns.

“So is it a thing? You ‘n’ him?” she asks. 

Marlene turns her full attention to you at the question and Lily throws her arms around you in a hug. 

“It really should be!” Lily gushes, her voice far too loud in your ear. “You’d be so cute together! It’s obvious he adores you!” 

You smile as you shrug Lily off.

“Sorry to disappoint, but he’s infatuated with someone else,” you say, mockingly saying infatuated to make yourself feel better. You try to hold in a sigh. 

“Who?” Marlene demands. “We’ll take care of her!” 

“Dunno. He won’t tell me.”

Marlene and Lily don matching frowns and furrowed brows. 

“Darling! There you are!” Sirius’ voice booms.

The three girls glare at him.

“What’d I do?” he asks, his arm finding its place around your shoulders. 

“I’ll tell you what you did, Black,” Marlene starts.

“Nothing! You did nothing,” you say quickly, cutting Marlene off before she can say too much.

While you’ve never said anything directly about liking Sirius to them, you’re sure it’s obvious to them now and you’ll hear more about it tomorrow. 

“Well, I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” he asks cautiously, eyeing the girls who are still glaring daggers at him. 

“No, you’re not,” you say firmly, also eyeing the girls. 

You really hope they don’t say anything right now that would embarrass you and possibly hurt the friendship you have so carefully preserved. 

“Then I’m sure they won’t mind if I steal you away again!” he says cheerfully and steers you away from them.

He takes you to a quieter area down a few flights of stairs and stopping on a landing. Based on the doors you’ve passed, you figure you’re by the dorms. You’re glad that he took you down rather than up because the air is significantly cooler. 

“Did you find your mystery girl?” you ask as he leans against the wall, sipping his own drink that he must’ve refilled at some point.

He nods. 

You cock your head to the side. “Then why haven’t you stolen her away to this little spot?” 

He chuckles. “What makes you think I haven’t?”

“You’ve already ditched her?” you ask accusingly. 

“No!” He stands up straighter and moves closer to you. “No, I’m with her right now.”

“But it’s just us here?” 

He takes another step toward you and tucks some of your hair behind your ear.

“Oh, darling, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you are so clearly not a Ravenclaw.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” you spit. “Are you calling me stupid?” 

He throws his head back, laughing.

“Yes! Yes, I am.”

You scoff and take a step back from Sirius. 

“Well then.” You turn to go up the stairs because why did Sirius steal you away to insult you?

“No, listen!” He reaches out to stop you from heading back to the party. “You’re not stupid. Blind? Maybe. A bit dense right now? Yeah.”

“You’re not helping yourself,” you say dryly. 

“It’s you. You’re the… mystery girl, as you’ve been calling her. It’s been you the whole time.”

You freeze for a moment. 

“What?” you breathe. That can’t be right. 

“When I asked you about how girls flirt? I was asking how to know if you were ever flirting with me. But then you never did any of those things. Maybe one or two once or twice. So I asked how I could flirt with you. I know you enough to know that you wouldn’t want me to use those cheesy or dirty lines on you. You wouldn’t want an overtly public declaration of love to ask you to Hogsmeade. But even with your advice, you don’t seem to respond to me.”

He stops talking for what feels like an eternity. He’s scanning your face for a reaction, for any kind of sign from you, but all he gets is utter shock and confusion. 

“What?” you repeat in the same quiet voice of disbelief. 

He takes a step toward you so that his body is almost touching yours.

“The girl I really like and don’t want to mess things up with? She’s you. She’s been you for a while now. And I’m asking you how you feel about me because you can be so hard to read sometimes.” 

His voice is so soft and honest. You blink slowly as you gaze into those grey eyes you love so much. 

“She’s me?” you echo his sentiment. 

“Yes. Please, love, I need to know. Do you like me or have I just made a rather large fool of myself?”

“That’s why you didn’t want to come unless I did,” you whisper more to yourself than to Sirius, ignoring his question and the way his eyes filled with uncertainty as you did so. “That’s why you’ve been complimenting me more and offering to carry my bag. Oh…”

“Love?” he asks with a wavering voice. 

You’ve never heard him so nervous before. His hand slowly reaches up to cup your face. 

“Please…” he whispers.

“This is all… real?” you ask, placing your hand on top of his. 

“Yes. It’s so real.”

You smile. It’s wide and filled with the most joy you’ve ever felt. But then it disappears as you glare at Sirius.

“Don’t you ever call me stupid again,” you say firmly.

“I won’t.” There’s a beat of silence. “Wait, so do you-”

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his. It was a moment of Gryffindor braveness that you usually didn’t showcase. It took Sirius by surprise. He takes a moment to process that you, the girl he’s been pining over for a while, is kissing him and that he should kiss you back. But he does and it’s everything you’ve dreamed it would be. All of those times you’ve thought about his mystery girl, you never really considered that she could be you. As much as you dreamed it, you never really believed you could be the girl he described as the sweetest, the most beautiful, the kindest and most wonderful, perfection. But you were and you felt it as Sirius wraps his arms around you to hold you close, even after you broke away from the kiss. 

“Oh, the girls were glaring at you earlier because I told them you liked someone else after they asked if we were dating.” 

“Hmm, too bad that someone else is you,” he mumbles against your shoulder, still not letting you go. “We can correct your misinformation later. You’re mine now.”

[rafescvntyclubgf]

ℕ𝕖𝕨 𝕐𝕖𝕒𝕣’𝕤 ℝ𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕚𝕟’ 𝔼𝕧𝕖 - ℝ𝕒𝕗𝕖 ℂ𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕠𝕟 𝕆𝕟𝕖 𝕊𝕙𝕠𝕥

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙱𝚘𝚍𝚢𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙿𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: pet names, swearing, angst, fighting, rough touch, kissing, degradation, name calling, possessive!rafe, jealous!reader, protective!rafe, rough oral male receiving, gunplay, spanking, overstim, cum licking (floor), choking, fingering, pussy slapping, dirty talk, teasing, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, creampie, ownership kink, brat taming, no safe words

from this au if you want to read about the night they got together 🌹

📖 the reader has been secretly dating her bodyguard. During her NYE performance, she learned she’s not the only one he crossed the line with.

⭐ unedited ⭐

Reader's POV:

The backstage area is a whirlwind of costumes, stagehands, producers, and backup dancers. You eye yourself in the mirror, body hugged in a glittering black bodysuit with thousands of sequins that catch every stray light beam.

You should be basking in the excitement of a childhood dream come true—after all, millions of viewers are about to watch you perform a duet on New Year's Rockin’ Eve. But the second she walked inside, any excitement you might have felt went out the window.

Bella Dean.

She's the diva you're supposed to share the big closing number with: petite, curvy, absolutely stunning. Her talent is almost as big as her ego.

Bella’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. “Look at you, baby,” she coos, sashaying up to you, flashing a smile that makes your stomach flip. “You okay? You look a little sick?” She asks, pouting her lip, her tone almost demeaning; clearly commenting on your appearance and not the state of your health–just being a fuckin’ bitch.

You fake a smile as your pulse spikes. “Sick?” You ask through a breathy laugh as you raise an eyebrow at her.

“Ill? Not feeling well? Under the weather? You don’t know what sick is?” She asks, returning a nasty laugh.

“I feel just fine. Thanks for your concern,” you reply, your face twisting slightly.

"Of course," she purrs. "I think my makeup girl’s around here somewhere… Maybe it’s just because you look a little dull. I’m sure she has some highlighter or something to add a little sparkle,” she adds a little extra sweetness to her voice at the end, her cruelty making you feel like you could lose your mind as you try to remain professional. Your fingers tighten around your microphone as you try to focus on what’s coming next instead of the 5’2” nightmare beside you.

She steps out just before your cue, hitting the stage first, looking back at you with a wink and a smug smile you wish you could hurl your mic at her face.

You take a calming breath, reminding yourself that this will be a few minutes. You have a whole night ahead of you to look forward to. A night with him… Rafe stands off to the side, looking devilishly handsome in his all-black suit. He folds his arms over his broad chest, looking into the crowd, eyes trailing the space as usual.

You turn back to Bella, your eyes finding hers, her ruby-red lips curling into a wicked smile, making a knot of unease tighten in your belly. She quirks her eyebrow, stepping closer; too close for your liking. “That bodyguard of yours…” she says, tipping her head toward Rafe, making her platinum blonde curls bounce. “I haven’t seen him in a minute.”

You fiddle with your microphone, trying to seem as unbothered as possible, but she sees right through you.

“Rafe?” She chirps, making your eyebrows shoot up as his name leaves her lips effortlessly. “Mhmm… Rafey. Ugh, don’t tell me he didn’t mention me,” she tosses her hair to the side. “I’m sure he had an interview. That wasn’t brought up?”

You purse your lips, look out toward the crowd, and try to distract yourself.

“Don’t tell anyone, but we did get a little cozy on my last tour,” she leans in, giddily gossiping like she’s talking to a friend, but we both know what she’s doing. How unprofessional of me, right?” she chides as she smiles out to the crowd, giving them her million-dollar smile before blowing them a kiss.

You feel your body tremble as the adrenaline of the night and this admittance courses through your veins. Rafe did mention he’d once made a mistake by getting involved with a past client, but he never mentioned a name–her name. You swallow hard, clearing the lump in your throat as your mind starts spinning out, thinking of what the two must have done behind closed doors.

“That doesn’t sound like Rafe,” you assure.

“So you didn’t know. Ouch.” She flicks her gaze toward him again. “Doesn’t sound like you’re working the man to his full potential.”

You bite your cheek, lips tightening as you try to hold back your outburst. “Well, if you are and you don’t kiss and tell, just know he has a habit of getting too close. I just want you to be careful,” she pouts again, her voice like nails on a fucking chalkboard as the band starts to play around you.

And with that, she glides away, leaving you breathless and seething as she walks to the front of the stage. Your cheeks burn as you glance at Rafe from the wings. He catches your eyes with a concerned expression–the man no doubt reading your emotion like a book. Even though he has no idea what the fuck just happened, he knows something’s off with you. His eyebrows pinch together, beautiful features hardening.

Bella and Rafe? I can’t fuckin’ handle this right now.

The crowd roars excitedly as Bella’s voice pours out of the speakers. Your heart bangs with the opening beats of the song. You look toward the camera as it pans to you, forcing a smile. Your voice wavers as your anxiety gets the better of you–Bella looking toward the wings at Rafe as well, painting a picture of what their exchanges might have looked like in the past, her stealing little glances at him from center stage instead of you.

The lights sweep over you, and the first note leaves your lips. Your muscles tighten as the pitch wavers, just a hair off, but it’s enough for Bella to shoot a look back at you. Your stomach aches, heartbreaking, as you feel yourself starting to fumble while Bella shines. You push harder–the melodies leaving your lips sounding anything but natural.

Bella steps forward, delivering her verse perfectly, making the crowd scream. Her eyes twinkle as she passes you, making your blood boil. You lose track of the music for a split second, coming in a beat too late, making the blonde smirk in your peripheral vision. Fucking cunt.

You take a deep breath with the guitar break, straining to gather your emotions, trying to remind yourself of the night and how you’ll hate yourself if you let her ruin it for you. You turn toward her, melting your voices together in perfect harmony. The tension between you is thick, but it doesn’t read that way–the crowd, eating up every second of the duet.

The music cuts and the crowd goes wild. Bella moves toward you for the planned hug, but you step away and wave to the crowd. As she waves, you feel her arm wrap around your waist, pulling you in for a half-hug. Bella leans in, looking up at you, feigning concern. “You were a bit shaky. Are you okay?”

“Fuck off,” you hiss through a gritted smile to the crowd.

She gasps surprisedly before resting her head on your shoulder. “Don’t be upset, babes. Let me know if you are ever in the market for a new bodyguard. I always find the best ones,” she winks. “Have a happy New Year.”

You resist the urge to run, walking off the stage gracefully before storming toward your manager, taking your purse off her hands before snapping your focus to Rafe. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me it was Bella you messed around with, huh?” You hiss, quiet enough to meet his ears only as you glare at him.

“This isn’t the right place,” he warns as he looks through you even still, eyes scanning the crowd.

“No, Rafe,” you snap. “This is the perfect fucking place. I just found out about your little fling from Bella. Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

Rafe steps closer, looking you in the eyes, making you draw a little breath. “Not now.”

“Forget it,” you scoff, and before he can stop you, you flee the scene, disappearing into the thick crowd of backstage traffic. You walk through the double doors, looking to the left at the long line of dressing rooms before taking a risk, pushing through the side door.

The winter wind whips as you walk through the tight, dark alley, heels clicking against the asphalt with each step as you head toward the main street. Fans and paparazzi push in around you, yelling your name, but you keep your head down, pushing ahead.

You look down the block, knowing your hotel is close, but how close? You shove through the thick crowd, still waiting to get into the venue. The middle of the road is packed, too, with a barrage of people gathered, waiting for the ball to drop. You lift your eyes for a moment. Halfway there… You cross your arms tighter around your waist, trying to keep warm while holding yourself back from answering the phone vibrating like crazy in your purse.

Silence.

You sigh in relief as you walk into the swanky downtown hotel. The noise behind you falls away. The lobby's hush and glamor starkly contrast what’s happening on the other side of the revolving door—velvet chairs, marble floors, and the soft golden glow of chandeliers hanging overhead.

You draw a deep breath and blow it out slowly, looking to your left. Your head hangs with mental exhaustion as you step toward the hotel bar, pushing through the door before heading toward the rail.

You order your drink, asking for a double, hearing your voice tremble with anger and stress. You stare at your reflection in the barback's mirror, your makeup perfectly done, stage outfit on; your hairstyle to perfection, but that was just a facade. You felt far from perfect underneath–completely broken.

Rafe seems so poised and professional. It was so hard to break his icy exterior…

As childish as it sounds, you felt special. He seemed so untouchable that when you were able to break through, you felt like maybe there was something different about you.

He didn’t seem like someone who would sleep with his clients, and now you can’t help but think just how many people he had took care of like he was taking care of you.

Bella… What if it wasn’t special, though? What if it was just a one-time thing–a fling, and Bella was trying to get in your head? You grab your drink, lifting it to your lips, downing half of it fast, letting it sear your throat, trying to numb your thoughts.

She wanted this to happen. You hated yourself for letting her affect you the way she did. The truth is, she saw you fall apart in front of her, catching every missed step and note; each misstep was a win for her.

The bar is quiet, the low roar of the New Year’s celebration humming outside. The soft jazz piano swells in the background, paired with the soft conversations of the guests dressed to the nines. No one bats an eye at your arrival; no one asks for anything from you, letting you sit for a moment and breathe.

“Sir!” You hear the shrill call of someone from the lobby. A sudden commotion on the other side of the door pulls you out of your peace as Rafe storms in. He looks down at his phone, eyes scanning from left to right. Your heart falls as he zeros in on you, his nostrils flaring with anger, contrasting with the look of relief in his striking blue eyes.

He sucks his teeth, holding himself back from cursing you out on sight. His Gucci suit jacket is half undone, his toffee-colored hair mussed, and his sharp jaw is set in a straight line. He looks fuckin’ angry, completely winded, like he's been fighting through thick crowds, going to Hell and back to get to you. Good. Let him be angry. Why should I have to suffer alone?

Rafe makes a beeline for you, his long legs crossing the room in a few strides. The bartender walks over, asking how he can serve him, his voice quickly fading as he sees the look in Rafe’s eyes. Your bodyguard thumbs through his wallet, slapping $100 on the counter before grabbing your arm.

“We’re leaving,” he hisses, tugging you off the barstool. You gasp, your unfinished drink sloshing onto the floor as he steers you back toward the exit.

You yank your arm back, disregarding the curious glances around you, shooting daggers at your brooding bodyguard. “You don’t get to boss me around right now,” you hiss as you fight him off, but it only makes his fingers twist a little tighter around your arm.

“Once wasn’t enough?” He snarls.

“Spare me the lecture,” you sass. “M’not in the mood for you —fuckin’ drama queen.”

Rafe leans in, his warm breath hitting your skin as he pulls you toward the elevator. “Do you have any fucking idea how reckless that was? Runnin’ out there alone on the busiest night of the year? In the busiest city? Are you insane? And you’re alone-”

“Did I look alone?” You snap as you lift what’s left of your drink. “Didn’t pour this shit myself,” you laugh tauntingly before shooting it back.

He scoffs annoyedly as his grip on you tightens even more. “So you’d rather run away and have somethin’ awful happen to you, risk my whole fuckin’ career than talk to me about what you found out?”

“Correct,” you clip. “Now, let go of me.”

“Let’s make a deal, tough girl. You can get outta my fuckin’ grip, then you can go. I happen to like you... I’m not some insane stalker who wants to wear your fuckin’ skin. Aight? It ain’t safe out there for you, and for some reason, you think that your best option is to run,” he hisses as he bangs his fist against the up button.

The elevator door glides shut, leaving the two of you alone. You both stand next to each other, seething for different reasons. Rafe tosses your arm away when you fight against him one last time, making you push out an exaggerated breath.

Elevator music fills the space around you, so light and cheery it’s almost satirical at the moment. You stand side to side with your bodyguard, arms crossed over your chests, both of you waiting for the other to break.

“You have no right-”

“Run off again, and I swear to fuckin’ Christ,” he cuts you off.

“You wouldn't be mad? Really?”

“‘Course I would be. I'd be fuckin’ irritate, but I’d wait ‘til I got back to the hotel to say somethin’ like a fuckin’ adult. Not run away like a goddamn child-”

“I’m not-”

“A child,” he cuts you short, finishing your sentence as he turns toward you, his voice low and lethal. “You’re not a fuckin’ kid. Aight? You’re a grown-ass woman. Start actin’ like it before you get yourself hurt.”

You turn toward his chest, too, and look up into his eyes, not backing down. “You told me you once crossed a line with a client but never said it was her. She wasn't even mentioned on your resume, Rafe. Why was that?” You ask breathily, letting your defiance and disgust bleed through.

“That shit doesn't change the fact that that was a bad decision, princess,” he returns your same tone, that term of endearment he loves to use coming out as anything but endearing.

“Let’s talk about good decisions, Rafe. Her? I'm questioning you and your fuckin’ taste level. Bella is a cunt. It would have been nice to know this before sharing the stage with her so I could have been prepared for her bullshit instead of being blindsided and ruining that moment for myself.”

“Ruining your moment? What the hell are you talking about?” He asks in disbelief. “Your performance was perfect.”

“The fuck it was, Rafe,” you scoff as you step out of the elevator without him. “Your performance was perfect,” you mock him. “Bella’s performance was perfect, Rafe… And tomorrow, when there’s a review on Rolling Stone, maybe you’ll get it through your thick fuckin’ head.”

Rafe runs his fingers through his hair; frustration etched into every line on his handsome face. “Baby,” he mumbles as he softens his tone and closes the space between you and him. “I screwed up by not tellin’ you before tonight. M’sorry. But you can’t keep runnin’ off when you’re mad. I’m your bodyguard; I have to protect you whether you like me or not.”

You wave your keycard in front of the door handle, rolling your eyes at his apology, if you could even call it that. “Well, Rafe… Maybe you should be better at protecting your secrets,” you grumble, going to shut the door behind you, but Rafe clutches it tight, pushing against you with minimal effort, making you growl in frustration. You toss your clutch onto the sofa, kick off your heels in protest, and rip off your earrings for dramatic effect.

"You lied by omission, Rafe. You said you 'made a mistake' once with a client but never told me it was Bella. Did you honestly think I wouldn’t find out?”

He sighs as he strips himself of his jacket, tossing it off before loosening his tie. “Jesus Christ, baby. I was gonna tell you. Just not right before you had to perform with her."

"How considerate,” you breathe, your sarcasm palpable, making his cheeks flush with anger.

“Bella is toxic-”

“No shit,” you laugh.

“She'll do anythin’ to get under your skin-” he starts.

“Jesus, Rafe! Tell me something I don’t fuckin’ know!”

“I screwed up with her, yes… But do you know how long ago that was? That was at the start of my career. I was still tryin’ to figure shit out. I was young-”

“So, is this a serial thing for you, Cameron? Or am I an exception?” You ask, with a lifted brow as you pop open a bottle of De Venoge Louis, eyes shifting over to him. “Just another one of your favorite pop stars?”

“Enough,” he groans tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration as he paces the room. “You know that's not how I see you… You gotta stop.”

“And how do you see me?” You ask. “I know how I see you…” You mutter, foregoing the glasses altogether, lifting the bottle to your lips instead.

“Not gonna tell you how I feel right now.”

“What the hell does that mean,” you laugh, dribbling champagne on your chin as you look up at him, fluttering your lashes in confusion.

“Because you’re actin’ irrational. This is not the time.”

“Stop telling me that it’s not the time, Rafe. Oh my god,” you whine, voice brimming with frustration.

“I get that you’re upset,” he scolds. “But runnin’ off into the city alone after a show and putting yourself at risk like that over Bella Dean was fuckin’ stupid, regardless, and you know that. Come back here… And lose your shit. Hell, you’re yellin’ at me right fuckin’ now. Only difference is you’re safe.”

“Sorry for makin’ you do your job, Rafe.”

He nods his head, a look in his eyes like he’s going absolutely insane. He crosses his arms over his chest, his biceps flexed, looking like it could tear the fabric apart. “N’to be clear. Chasin’ you is my job?”

“Dunno. Wasn’t at the job interview… Not quite sure what your scope of work was, but I assume the details of your job didn’t include sleepin’ with me either-”

“You’re begging for trouble, you know that?” He shouts, his loud voice hitting your chest hard, making the hair on the back of your neck stand straight.

“M’Terrified,” you giggle, trying to hide your nervousness as your heart rate starts to climb. His eyes narrow on yours–a mix of anger and something darker.

He walks over, looking down at you perched on the velvet lounge chair. You gasp as his hand comes around your throat, his grip tightening and tightening. He lifts you to your feet, pulling you chest to chest. “Keep talkin’ back and see what the fuck happens.”

You look at him with dead eyes, seemingly unimpressed by his threats, letting your eyes roll in the back of your head. Rafe tightens his grip a little more, making you sputter out a breath.

“Keep rollin’ those eyes at me, too, while we’re at it,” he growls. “You think I won’t give you a lesson?”

Adam's apple bobs in his throat, lip snarling as you refuse to submit. Rafe yanks you forward, crushing his lips against yours in a deep, desperate kiss. You go to shove him away, but his fingers find your hair, twisting into the strands, tugging you closer, forcing you in place. The air leaves your lungs as he shoves you into the wall, never breaking your kiss.

When he finally tears his lips away, you’re both breathless, chests heaving, longing for more.

“You’re fuckin’ impossible,” he rasps, blue eyes blazing with lust, his rasp voice taut and hoarse. “Run off, you don’t fuckin’ listen, and then you come back here and pick stupid fuckin’ fights, spoutin’ off shit we both know ain’t true.”

“Maybe you deserve it, Rafe. Did you ever think about that-” Rafe silences you with another kiss–more longing and possessive than the last. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him into your lips.

Rafe breaks away again, leaving you chasing his lips. He rests his forehead against yours, the two of you panting into each other, desperate for more.

“I’m gonna teach you a lesson,” he whispers, voice vibrating with tension. “Next time you try this shit, just know I’ll chase you down. Next time you roll your fuckin’ eyes at me, I’ll pin you where you stand. You can’t keep doin’ this shit without consequences.”

Your heart pounds in your ears, pussy pulsing as you listen to all of his threats– his words honestly having the opposite effect. Looks like he’s the one begging for trouble.

“Fuckin’ do it, Rafe,” you dare him, smiling against his lips, “you think I'm scared of you?"

“Think you're braver than you should be, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, Rafey? You gonna punish me?” You ask.

“That’s exactly what I’m gonna do,” he says, firm and cold, making goosebumps spread across your body. He leans in, pinning you against the wall, pressing his big body into you. Rafe kisses along your neck, teeth scraping your ear. “Don’t even think we have a safe word. Do you?” He asks, and you can hear that crooked smile in his voice.

“N-No,” you whisper, trying to recall, but you honestly don’t think you could at this moment, the way his body surrounds you, his rich cologne clouding your senses completely.

“Shit, baby… Guess you’re outta luck.” You gasp as he picks you up off your feet, slinging your body over his shoulder. “Maybe if you start behaving-” Crack! He slaps your upper thigh harshly, making you scream. “Maybe we can think of one together, hmm?”

Rafe throws you down on the bed, making the last bit of air in your lungs escape. He strips himself out of his button-down shirt, quickly working himself out of his pants before tossing his belt and gun onto the bed.

“Wh-What are you gonna do with those?” You ask, hearing your voice tremble.

Rafe clears the space between you, lowering his hands on the mattress as you look wide-eyed at him.

“Aww, princess… You know me. I love leavin’ out little details,” he smiles wickedly.

Rafe grabs the front of your bodysuit, tearing the delicate material open effortlessly, sending rhinestones and beads flying onto the bed and the hardwood floor as he tears away the custom piece without batting an eye. He pulls the material down your thighs, tossing it to the floor before grabbing your hips, manhandling you to your belly on the bed, your ass in the air, and your feet on the floor.

“FUCK!” You scream as his big hand comes down, slapping your bare ass, leaving behind a tingling sensation. Before you can even react, he does it a second time, then a third, making tears pool in your eyes and wetting the mattress. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“The fuck was that, tough girl?” He asks through a breathless laugh.

“I-I… Fuck you,” you whimper, trying to stand strong. Rafe grabs a fistful of hair, yanking you back, his head lowered to match your eyes.

“Fuck me? You told me to do this shit, baby girl… You’re the boss. I’m just doin’ my job.” Rafe uses his hold on your hair to push your face into the mattress, pushing two thick fingers into your soaked core. “Listen up, princess,” Rafe huffs. “You deserve this. I’m not gonna put up with this shit, aight? You’re lucky I’m even fuckin’ touchin’ you.” Rafe pumps his fingers in your pussy, finger-fucking you mercilessly as you try your best to wiggle away. “Stop squirmin’,” he chides. “Hands behind your fuckin’ back.”

The second you do, Rafe grips the against your lower back, the palm of his hand clapping against your ass as he fingers stroke your G-spot. Your thighs start to tremble, pussy tightening around his big fingers. “Fuck, Rafe,” you moan.

“Yeah? You wanna cum?” He taunts.

“Please,” you whisper.

“Think it’ll fix that little attitude of yours?”

“Yes, fuck!” You cry.

“I’m not sure it will…” Rafe sighs sadly. “I’ll let you cum tonight. But I swear if this shit happens again. M’not… Not until you’re at my hotel door beggin’ and cryin’ for my dick like a whore.” Rafe pulls his hands out of your soaked cunt, slapping your pussy fast and tough, making you cum hard, sobbing as your pussy flutters around nothing, your hands still pinned tightly against your back. Rafe fucks his fingers into your cunt, darting them inside you at an insane pace, and seconds later, you’re coming again, pussy gushing around his hand, landing on the floor with a little splash.

And even then, he doesn’t stop, his fingers just sopping through the mess as you fight against him, crying in overstimulation and pleasure. “Rafe, please. Please. Please.”

“What?” He spits.

“I-I… Mphff… Safe… Safeword,” you hiccup.

He booms out a laugh. Drawing both his hands back in surrender. Completely mocking you and the mess he made of his favorite girl. “You’re kiddin’ me?” He teases as he rests his hands on the bed, lowering himself to your ear, his chest brushing against your bare back. “Safeword?”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you pant. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Jeopardizing my job, your life, our fuckin’ relationship over a bitch then means nothin’ to me. That’s the least you should be,” Rafe scolds as he grabs your hips, rolling you to your back.

You look between your thighs, eyes following Rafe as he reaches for his gun. He lifts it, making a show of it, eyeing the weapon in his hand. Your eyes fall down his body, watching his muscular chest rise and fall with his rapid breathing, his gold chain glinting in the dim. The ridges of his abs deepen with every level breath, his hard cock tenting out the fabric of his white Calvins, leaving you craving him even more.

He clicks on the safety, lifting the gun, pointing it at your pussy, slapping the piece against your inner thighs. “Spread your shit,” he mumbles. You widen your thighs on the mattress, your glossy cunt dripping with your arousal. Rafe presses the cool muzzle against your pulsing clit, making your muscles jump and your thighs drawn in. “I said ‘spread your shit,’” he shouts, making you flinch. “What’s it gonna take for you to listen? Huh?”

“I’m sorry, baby. I-���

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Daddy,” he mocks your fucked-out voice again. “Tell me somethin’ I don’t know,” Rafe repeats your words from the fight as he starts to rub little figure eights on your clit. Your body trembles with adrenaline as he continues to work you over with his handgun. The knot in your stomach starts to tighten as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your peak. “You gonna cum… off a gun? You that big of a slut, princess? You don’t even need a dick?” Rafe mumbles, and right when you’re about to fall apart below him, he pulls it away, leaving you whimpering and fussing for more, your bottom lip wobbling as you look up into your boyfriend’s beautiful, cruel eyes.

“Rafe, you’re being mean…” You whisper, your voice barely above a hush. “I said, ‘I was sorry’.”

“And, I told you not to run away again… N’look what happened. Get on your knees.”

You climb off the bed, stumbling slightly from your weak knees. You land on the floor, crawling the rest of the way to Rafe, glassy-eyed and pouty-lipped. You kneel before him, watching as Rafe lifts the gun slightly, mirroring his dick, the tip of it coated with your slick.

“Suck it.”

Your heart starts to race as you look down the barrel of the gun. You look up at Rafe as you wrap your lips around the end of it, feeling your heart bang in your chest.

You take the cold metal to the back of your throat, taking as much as you can get, gagging around his weapon, sucking it clean, bobbing back and forth with your eyes on him. Rafe looks down at you hungrily, desperately wanting your lips on him and giving him the same service.

“Take ‘em off,” Rafe mumbles, and you slide your wet lips off the gun, racing to pull down his boxers fast. And without warning, he shoves himself in your mouth, pushing as far as his dick would go making you sputter and gag. You reach out, grabbing his tights, squeezing tightly, losing all vision as your eyes fill with tears.

You blink your tears away as he slides in and out of your swollen lips, grunting and moaning, using your mouth like a toy. The sounds around you were downright pornographic, making your pussy weep down your thighs. Your mouth leaked as well, saliva and precum dripping out of the seam.

Rafe finally pulls you off his cock, leaving you gasping for a breath. Before he can give you a command, you wrap your lips around him again in a desperate attempt for mercy, swirling and sucking him off just like he loves. You cradle his heavy balls in your hand, and he throats his hand back to the ceiling, a broad smile spreading on his perfect lips. “Atta girl… Fuck, that’s my good girl,” he praises.

You bob your head back and forth, stroking where your mouth won’t reach, trying desperately to please him. You can feel his cock throb and swell on your tongue, his breathing quickening by the second.

“Better swallow it all, princess, or we’re gonna be back at square one,” he mumbles, only half-kidding. He looks down at you, watching you throat him with all you have, his plump bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

Rafe pulls out of your mouth, jerking his cock in your face as you lay out your tongue. His warm cum shoots out of his tip, coating your lips and tongue. Your eyes flutter open as you swallow it all, licking your lips to clean up the rest of the mess as you look up at him.

He clicks his tongue, letting his gaze fall, eyeing a few loose pearls of cum decorating the floor. You rest your hands on the hardwood, lowering yourself to lick it up.

“Fuck, princess,” he moans as he looks down at you in lust and adoration. Rafe reaches for you, pulling you off the floor and into his strong arms. You wrap yourself in his, dressing your arms around his neck as his lips press against yours for a tender kiss.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you whisper.

“I’m sorry, princess,” he soothes. “No more punishments. Alright? You took that shit like a good girl. Let me take care of you, yeah?” He mumbles against your lips.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Thank you…”

“Don’t thank me… This right here—this is what I’ve been wantin’ to do all night.”

“Yeah?” You ask breathily, pecking at his lips.

“You kiddin’ me?” He chuckles as he lays you down on the bed, burying himself in his neck before kissing his way up to your ear. “Just wanted to take care of you. Make you feel good. Hard to think about much else when I see you up there. Can barely focus on keepin’ you safe when I’m just thinkin’ about fuckin’ this perfect pussy,” he mumbles as he slaps his tip against your clit.

Rafe slides his cock between your drenched folds, swirling his head around your hole before sinking in deep, bottoming you out with his long, thick dick. You grab two fistfuls of sheets as he grabs your hips in his big ringed hands, pulling out almost entirely before slamming back in.

“So good, baby… Fuck. Damn, you look so good takin’ my cock,” he moans as he starts rutting in and out. You couldn’t even get a word out with the way his dick was slamming in and out of your pussy.

Your eyes roll back in your head, boobs bouncing with each thrust of his hips as you go absolutely dumb on his dick. Rafe speeds up the pace, making your body tremble uncontrollably. Tears of pleasure stream down your cheeks, wetting the pillow below. Rafe reaches down, brushing them away with his thumbs, slipping one between your lips to let you suck yourself numb as he drills into you.

“Come on, princess,” Rafe hums as he feels your body start to tighten around him. “Cream all over my cock. Show me what a good girl does, huh? Let me fill you up. Been so good for me,” he groans as he reaches down, rubbing circles on your throbbing clit as the coil in your belly gets tighter and tighter.

You scream his name, cumming all over his big cock as he fucks you through your orgasm. Rafe gives you a few more rough thrusts, emptying his load deep inside as his hungry lips devour yours, swallowing your whimpers and cries.

“You okay, baby?” He asks sweetly against your lips.

“M’perfect, Rafe,” you coo.

“You are,” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. “You mad at me still?” Rafe asks as he presses a gentle kiss on your lips.

“No,” you whisper. “Can’t stay mad at you, baby.”

“Mhmm… I know the feelin’,” he laughs. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. You snag your phone out of your nightstand, pulling out your phone, seeing back-to-back messages from your manager.

Claire Baby: Rafe said you were ok. Stop running away. Thnx.

Claire Baby: Rafe mentioned that there was a history between him and Bella

Claire Baby: I told him to save it til after the show so it didn’t fuck with your chemistry

Claire Baby: I had no idea she was such a bitch. I’m sorry. Pls Forgive me.

“Rafe Cameron,” you sigh.

“Mhmm…” He asks as he pulls out of your pussy nice and slow, watching his warm cum leak out of your puffy hole, swirling his fingers around before stuffing it back inside.

“Rafe…”

“What?” He asks as he tilts his head slightly, lifting his fingers for you to suck them clean. You wrap your lips around his fingers, looking in his beautiful blue eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me you tried to say something?” You ask softly as you look back up at him.

“‘Cause I deserved it… Shoulda told you from the start,” he answers. “No more secrets…”

“No more running,” you whisper.

You roll your head to the side, catching the time on the clock. 11:58 PM… Rafe kisses your cheek lovingly, wrapping his big body in yours. “How do you see me, Rafe,” you ask softly, pulling his focus back to your eyes. He brushes your hair off your face, cupping your cheek in his hand.

“Well, when I see you, I see the future. I see my dream girl. I see the only thing I want to see.”

You bite your lips, fluttering your lashes, the night's emotions getting the better of you.

“I see the woman that I love, princess.”

“You love me?” You whisper, voice laced with tears.

Rafe pulls you into his lips as the world outside the window roars with the new year, the clock striking midnight as your lips meet, your bodies tangled in sheets.

“Of course I love you, baby,” he mumbles.

“I love you too.”

[dollarbils]

admit you want me | b.eilish

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. billie, your roommate, starts a fight with you which soon gets heated.

warnings. violent language, harsh insults, physical violence, mean!billie, smut.

request masterlist

you’d both forgotten why you were fighting. something about billie’s lifestyle, particularly the many women you’ve woken up to using your towels, in your shared bathroom. but it had escalated into much more, insults hastily thrown left and right.

“oh my god, quit bitching.” the tips of her hands pushed your shoulders away from her, causing you to stumble back. disbelief plastered on your face, however, still choosing to ignore it.

“i’ll quit bitching, if you quit being such a god damn whore.” she went silent and you regretted it immediately, her temper wasn’t one to mess with and now that you had, it sparked an inkling of fear.

“what the fuck did you just call me.” she grabbed your shoulders but you quickly pushed her off you, fighting her physically instead of answering the question.

“fucking quit it!” she yelled before losing it and pushing you harshly against the wall, pinning your arms by your side with immense protest from your side.

“repeat what you said.” she said it as if she hadn’t heard you. no, she hadn’t fully believed she heard you.

“you heard me perfectly, billie.” her tongue poked her cheek as she chuckled.

“repeat it, i dare you.” she taunted, expecting your defeat. you’d never usually stood up to her this much, you’d always put up with her bullshit excuses in the past.

“i asked you to quit being a whore.” she nodded her head a couple times, taking in your words.

“i was hoping i’d misheard you.” her eyes tore past your facade, staring deep into your own.

“nope.” you’d mustered all the confidence you had left, knowing you’d break within the next minute. your hands were already numb from the force at which she had your wrists locked to the wall.

“i think you should take some time to reevaluate.” she suggested, moving dangerously close to your face.

“hm, i don’t think i need to.” she pushed her body against yours as you groaned, her lips brushing yours when she opened them to speak again.

“no? i mean it’s hypocritical really.” you raised your brow and she fake-pouted, mocking you.

“how the fuck is it hypocritical?” her clothed breasts were pushed up against yours, and you’d lingered on the thought for a second to long, but you kept up the strong face.

“don’t act like your not a little whore yourself.” she was teasing you purely for her amusement now, the fight long forgotten. her focus had moved to breaking you. cracking you open. ruining your perspective of your own innocence.

“i’m not going to entertain this for your pleasure, billie. fuck off.” she mocked your tone of voice and you rolled your eyes, she was so fucking childish.

“trust me i’ve got an entirely different view of what my pleasure is. teasing you barely makes top fifty.” she retorted, dismissing any hint of enjoyment in talking to you.

“top fifty? what an honor.” it was your turn to mock her, and she lifted your chin, her eye’s menacing as she looked at you.

“you’re such a fuckin’ brat.” she shook her head, reflecting on her words.

“it turns you on doesn’t it.” this time you’d truly caught her off guard, as her expression visibly shifted.

“what’s got you so brave today?” she deflected from the comment, neither affirming nor denying.

“maybe I’m just sick of your bullshit.” you brought the heated conversation back to the topic of your fight.

“my bullshit?” she seethed, daring you to voice what exactly her bullshit was.

“yes your fucking bullshit. your out here fucking different girls every night, which i wouldn’t have a problem with if you weren’t so goddamn loud, and if they had the common decency not to use my towels. i’m doing like twenty loads of laundry each week!” she had to stop herself from laughing at your outburst.

“this is all over some fuckin’ towels?” she raised her brow in disbelief.

“no! it’s the principle!” frustration coated your words, she didn’t get it.

“so all i’m getting from this is that you’re jealous.” she shrugged her shoulders and you couldn’t help rolling your eyes. she kept her tone calm and collected, while you were practically raging at her.

“wha- jealous? how the fuck did you come up with that nonsense?” she chuckled when you defended yourself.

“nonsense is a bit dramatic, babe.” she licked her teeth, the term of endearment catching you off guard.

“don’t call me that.” you huffed, she was no longer holding you against your will, and it had come to your attention. you weren’t fully sure why you were still stationed against the wall, giving her the space to tower over you.

“why not?” she teased, this was all a game to her.

“because it’s not going to be that easy to get into my pants.” she laughed softly again.

“and what makes you think that’s what i want?” she poked her cheek with her tongue, hypocritically staring at your lips.

“you’re not the best at hiding it.” she smiled though you thought she’d take offense to the comment.

“yeah? i think you like the attention though.” she bit her lip as she leaned in, closer to your face, testing the waters before she made any sort of commitment.

“mm, maybe.” you shrugged your shoulders playfully but she just kept staring down at you.

“so are you gonna admit it or not?” she tilted her head in question.

“admit what?” she shook her head slightly, as if to warn you not to play dumb.

“admit you want this,” she tightened her grasp on your waist, “admit you want me.”

“nope.” she bit her lip at your response, god it turned her on when you denied her.

“that’s a shame.” she grabbed your chin and her lips met yours, hot and fiery as she pushed you further into the wall. you kissed her back almost instantly, not welcoming her, but submitting to her as if you had no choice. your rationality had fled but you couldn’t care less, her lips too soft, too plump, too warm to think about anything else.

“damn.” she broke away, as breathless as you, her heart racing yours.

“yeah, uh. that was-” you were flustered, not knowing what to do with yourself or your words.

“js’ shut up.” she brought her lips to yours again, this time forcing herself into your mouth, tongues dancing as she backed you through the door and into her bedroom. she continued kissing you while she took control of your movements, only breaking away to push you onto the bed.

“billie.” you called as she unzipped her jeans, soon doing the same to yours.

“mhm? get used to saying’ that.” you rolled your eyes, continuing your previous sentence.

“how many girls have you fucked in this bed?” she raised an eyebrow, figuring out wether you were serious or not.

“why? jealous?” she didn’t answer the question.

“not by a long shot, just curious.”

“mhm. sure.” she ignored the question completely, forgetting about what you’d said.

“open up.” she gestured to your mouth, and soon her saliva met the back of your throat, as she stared at you, silently instructing you to swallow.

“look who’s bein’ a good girl all of a sudden. such a slut, taking everything i give you.” her words were contradictory, but you didn’t bother pointing it out, blaming it on her chaotic mind.

“nothin’ to say?” her strap dug into your thigh when she hovered above your face.

“fuck y-” she smirks as she breaks up your words with the tip of her strap gliding across your entrance.

“what was that?” your face shys away from her, eyes closing and turning your head to the side. she makes an effort to express her discontent with this, pulling your face by your cheeks, forcing you to look at her.

“bil.” your plea didn’t go unnoticed and she held your hips to stop you from squirming.

“what?” you pouted when she didn’t move from her position.

“billie.” she bit her lip, enjoying how filthy her name sounded when it came out of your lips like that.

“you can keep whining my name but it won’t tell me what you want.” she shrugged her shoulders, her lips tracing patterns against your neck as your breaths grew heavy.

“please, i need-” she sunk her strap into you slightly, stealing way your breath as your mouth fell open. god she wanted to take a picture, having you like this was so hot.

“hm? what do you need? admit it baby, come on.” you still didn’t reply, testing her patience.

“okay, i’ll help you out a bit yeah? do you want this? my strap?” she wished she was recording, having had no proof of you agreeing to her words when you nodded your head.

“yes, bil. please.” she would’ve teased you further, but she couldn’t resist pushing into you. losing herself in the process.

“i want you.” you’d said once your walls had adjusted to her size, clenching around it in attempt for friction.

“if only you could see yourself now, my whore.” she smirked down at you, gliding her strap in and out very subtly watching you fall apart.

“mm, billie.” you gave in, moaning her name openly now, watching her enjoy it more than she’d ever let on.

“mhm? what’s up baby?” her hands travelled around your breasts, warm against her skin.

“harder pl-please.” now she really wished she’d been recording.

“what was that?” she asked you to repeat yourself, fastening her hands on your hips as she continued diving into you.

“billie.” her movements quickened, sending you back against the pillow.

“i didn’t hear you, babe.” her grin was all you needed to see to know she definitely had heard you.

“harder please.” you whined again, for the last time you hoped.

“god, you’re sexy.” her teeth pulled her lip back as she watched you come undone on her strap, begging for release and then begging for more.

[mysumeow]

ᯓ★ KINKTOBER DAY 5: SCENT KINK

ᓚᘏᗢ WARNINGS: Afab body, mentioned to wear a skirt. Public sex (no one gets caught though wink wink), fingering, cunnilingus, scent kink.

ᓚᘏᗢ SUMMARY: You agreed to meet with Ace at the library to work on a project. However, who shows up is not him, but Leona...

ᓚᘏᗢ A/N: I know october is over but this was supposed to be posted like two weeks ago ;7; I had a lot going on the past week but i finally got some time to share this filth >:DDDDDDDD

🎃 . . . KINKTOBER MASTERLIST | TWST MASTERLIST

You groggily open your eyes, the bright lights glaring at your pupils as you woke up. The annoying burn became a secondary thought—memories from what led you to be in the college’s library this late.

“And people complain about me napping anywhere.”

At the sound of Leona’s unexpected voice, your drowsiness left your body.

“Leona?” you jolted. “What are you doing here?”

“I should be the one asking you that. This is not a place to nap. And this late? Even less.”

You were about to retort back with a snarky comment of your own, but the memories of why you were here in the first place stopped you.

"Ace, that jerk, did he stand me up?” you fished your cellphone out of your pocket. Ace could be a jerk sometimes, but would he dare to abandon you when you were supposed to work on the upcoming project? 

You sighed, relieved when you found his messages, explaining that he wouldn’t make it to the library this time because Riddle assigned him some tasks in their dorm.

The day had been arduous, and the moment you sat on this couch, in the silent place that is a library, you couldn’t help but nod off...

Leona sat next to you on the couch and leaned closer to peek at your messages. In the middle of you typing your response back to Ace, Leona couldn’t help but notice the obvious scent of that other guy on you.

“You hang out around that herbivore too much. His pesky scent is all over you.” Leona complained.

“Well, he’s a friend. Of course I’ll hang out with him.”

Without exchanging any other words, Leona snatched your cellphone away from your hand and placed it on the table.

“Hey—What’s the big deal?”

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer to him, until your chests pressed together. The abrupt movement made your knees bump into each other; however, the second his mouth made contact with your neck, you couldn’t bother paying it mind anymore. His fangs grazed on your skin, teasing about a possible mark he could leave there with ease. The way he inhaled your neck made goosebumps rise. It both tickled you and made arousal pool between your legs.

He even tugged at your shirt to reveal more skin for him to lave with his tongue. In the back of your mind, you knew this wasn’t the place to do this, yet, the thrill of the situation wouldn’t allow you to care about it enough.

Leona slid a hand under your skirt; his fingers sought the growing wetness concealed by your underwear without hesitation.

“I was about to tell you to move this to my room, but it looks like the place isn’t an issue…” he kissed the tip of your ear after he whispered, meanwhile two fingers eased inside. Leona groaned at your warmth and tightness, fingering at a languid rythm.

The heel of his hand rubbed against your clit while he thrust his fingers. The pleasure was overriding your thoughts, and you lost yourself in it.

Leona chuckled when he noticed you were relaxing into his touch, your position becoming slack.

You discerned him pulling away, his mouth opened to welcome his drenched fingers into his mouth. A look of pure carnal desire glazed his eyes as he lapped his fingers, swallowing the remnants of your pleasure. His attention shifted back to the source of said arousal under your skirt and crouched in front of your parted legs.

“Wait,” you panicked a little.

“Relax, no one’s around. No one comes here a Friday after classes.”

“What if someone comes?”

“I’ll be able to pick up footsteps before they even put a foot inside. Trust me, I’ll notice someone’s around before you do.” His lion ears flicked while he said that, a hand on your thigh as he waited for your response.

You gazed at Leona, his piercing green eyes giving away his eagerness despite his laidback demeanor. Well, beastkin had way better hearing than humans. And, as he said, no one wanted to spend their free time in the college’s library at this hour on a Friday.

At last, you opened your legs again for him. You were sitting at the furthest point away from the entrance. You would have plenty of time to fix your clothes before someone saw you.

Leona had similar thoughts, preferring to push your underwear to the side instead of pulling them off.

Before he feasted upon your dripping pussy, he grabbed you by the hips to pull you closer, positioning them in an angle that would make things easier. With this new position, he spread you open and slid his tongue against your needy clit. A gasp escaped you from the sensation; you reminded yourself to cover your mouth for extra precaution. The more his hot mouth sucked your clit, the closer to your orgasm you were.

The scent of you was driving him crazy. He could smell your slick dripping the moment he kissed and bit your neck. It wasn’t enough to erase Ace’s scent from you, but it was a start.

He would have you in his room soon enough, and he would make sure to get rid of it.

The more of your fluids coated his fingers, the more he was pleased. His mouth occupied with your nub, and his fingers worked your cunt with purpose. He didn’t even care about the fact that you were tugging at his hair, your hands dangerously close to his ears. Whatever, if you tugged on those too, he would make you pay back for it…

Leona hummed pleased once he felt you become undone under his touches, your walls clenching around his fingers. How antsy he was about feeling that around his cock—

“Careful there. Don’t forget whose hair you’re tugging here,” he pulled away to speak; his fingers didn’t abandon your tightness, however.

“Ah! I’m sorry.”

Once you tidied your appearance to the best of your ability and Leona led you to his room, you wondered why you bothered to tug your shirt into your skirt in the first place…

After that night, you noticed beastfolk would glance at you with a certain... knowing look you quite didn’t like. You didn’t like it because you didn’t know what the reason was. Even Jack would seem flustered whenever his eyes landed on you, quick to excuse himself.