#IT WAS CLOSED ALREADY BECAUSE THEY HAVE SHORT WORK DAYS ON FRIDAYS

[andhumanslovedstories]

I am not closely following the election results tonight, but I am occasionally seeing flashes of them out of the corner of my eye. The most obvious sign that things aren’t going well right now is the complete lack of celebrating on my dash. I know what tumblr looks like when it’s happy. Maybe I’ll go to bed tonight and see something different in the morning. I hope to god that is the case. But I’m thinking about the way I’m thinking right now, and I want to get some stuff down before the future kicks in.

In 2016 I was in a period of my life I affectionately refer to as as my fuckup era. I wasn’t even fucking up really. More just chilling out and falling short of the vague expectations I’d had about what I was supposed to be doing after I graduated college. While my friends from college rented apartments in the city and got jobs that didn’t supply you with a uniform shirt, I lived at home and worked as a barista at a fancy movie theater. That’s a real job you can do for almost five years. I didn’t have a clue what the back half of my twenties should look like. The only long term plan I had in my life was moving out west with my best friend, and my plan for finding a job once I was out there was basically to cross my fingers and hope.

Those days weren’t bad on the whole, but it felt like I was not actually living a life so much as I was goofing off in the waiting room. Sometimes that felt embarrassing, sometimes it felt fun, and sometimes it felt like I was completely pointless to the world.

On 2016’s Election Day, I went to bed early. After watching the votes come in, I needed the night to be over. I woke in a world that felt different than it had been the night before—not just in the actuality of who would be president but down to its foundations. I realized for the first time how much hope I’d had in human nature because now I didn’t feel it anymore. It’s almost silly when I think about it—so many horrible things had already happened that year, people had done horrible things as long as there have been people, and I didn’t think I was naive to that—but something clicked into place that morning.

It felt the same way my world had changed a year earlier, in 2015 during my last semester of college. My college victory lap felt like a prolonged downward spiral. Very early in the morning on a Monday, after pulling an all-nighter and overwhelmed by self-loathing that I could not just motivate myself to work on a paper that had been my only thought all weekend, I self-harmed for the first time in a way that was impossible to pretend it was anything else. Earlier that weekend, I’d tried staving off the urges drawing or writing on my arm, something that did (and does) usually work. I’d written this quote in silver sharpie on my forearm: “Good is not a thing you are. It's a thing you do.”

I picked that quote from the Ms. Marvel comics and liked the words so much, I thought that I wouldn’t be willing to purposefully mess it up by hurting myself there. Didn’t work. They just made me feel more ashamed of myself as I did it.

That was the worst I had ever felt. Then, on the Friday of that week, a friend of mine was senselessly, brutally murdered.

It doesn’t feel now like there was ever a time before her death. My memoir class is now where I wrote about her. My favorite professor is now the one who held me as I cried. My final thesis, the culmination of my history degree, never got finished and certainly never got polished. I turned it what I had and got an A minus. Sometimes I think of rereading that paper to see if that’s the grade it actually deserved. We hadn’t been the closest friends, but my name was still on the email admin sent to professors, listing students who might be emotionally affected by this tragic event. Grace’s murder hangs over every memory I have with her and everything she ever touched. It feels like its own type of obliteration to leave her reduced to her death.

Grace wanted to be a lawyer because she believed in justice and also liked arguing. She could be rude when she wasn’t interested in what you were saying. When you caught her attention, you felt like the most fascinating person in the room. She was so proud of being Jewish. I watched her become proud of being gay. She was so universally friendly that it took me a year to realize that she actually liked specifically me. She had a somewhat silly laugh and an astonishingly luminous smile.

I thought less of the world and the people in it because of how she died. Trump’s election in 2016 felt like that.

After he won, I left stasis. From November through December, I thought harder about my future than I ever had before. Who did I want to be? What did I most value? What did I think was worth protecting? What work wouldn’t kill me to do? At one point, in presumably a fit of madness, I thought, “what if I got into politics.” Epiphany eventually hit me. By the time of Trump’s inauguration, I was already enrolled at community college, getting my pre-reqs for nursing school.

Now it’s election night again, eight years later. I live on the west coast with my best friend, in a house that we bought together. I work as a nurse in a hospital in a city where there are homeless encampments off every highway and someone begging for change on every corner. Meanwhile, there’s Palestine. Meanwhile there’s Sudan. Meanwhile refugees drown in the sea and border patrol shoots jugs of water. Even hurricanes have human cruelty now.

I don’t think people are inherently good or the universe inherently kind. But I am very good at tricking myself into thinking it for a little while, and when I do, I can remember the a specific feeling from Friday of my senior year, from that morning in November— how fucking hard the disappointment hit me because I had expected people to be better than this. It makes me want to be better than that.

I believe, and hope that I always will, that we can make a better world. I don’t know what it looks like, but I think I will see it in my lifetime. Those of us who can believe such things owe a bit of that naïveté to the world—not to excuse atrocities or think them impossible but to believe that we can stop them at all. You have to have a couple people sprinkled around who are genuinely shocked when people do bad things. It’s not that the pessimists are wrong, but you need the occasional counterbalance. I want to be a reasonable cynic’s pleasant surprise.

Every shift, I interact with people at their lowest and worst. I see the direct pipeline from pain to anger to violence, and how fragile that pipeline can be. So many situations can be changed by things as small as a warm blanket or a kind word. Violence can be quite easy to avert. Crises can be quite simply to resolve. Even when I know that whatever I do that shift will not change the circumstances of a person’s life, I think that what I do that shift still matters.

I’m lying in bed, writing this post instead of looking at the news. I wonder how tonight will change me. Been thinking about what I’ll do if Trump wins. Been thinking about how whatever I think I need to do under Trump will still need to be done if Harris clutches out a victory. I guess this is a pessimist’s optimism: to a degree the election doesn’t matter. Good is not a thing you are. It is a thing you do. Our better world will always take a lot of work.

But please god please, why can’t it be just a little easier to do it?

[kooyabooya]

SECRETS & SPELLS

m reader x kazuha ; sakura // 14k words

“Really,” and you’re saying this with the most unimpressed look on your face, knowing Sakura’s bullshit could never get to you that easily, “And here I thought we had something special going on between us,” you tell her with a gesture of a hand, signifying the rapport. 

She laughs at that, because deep down you’ll put up with her antics in the end either way. Whether it would be spilling a few drinks down her throat or splitting her open until the crack of dawn breaks into the horizon, you’ll get the last say before she does. Always. 

“Do tell,” says Sakura, “Besides, you’ve got my number on speed dial.” 

-

It’s actually a pretty funny thing how the sacred law of attraction works in these kinds of scenarios; at least, that’s what you’ve learned when Sakura barged into your life from completely out of nowhere. This might come off as unexpected: you’re the TA for one of the design courses, and Sakura happened to be one of the top students in the class with the highest probability to break through into the fashion industry come post-grad. 

And at every turn since the beginning of the semester, she has managed to impress you amazingly. 

Everything’s all lighthearted at the first meeting - the usual buzz about this stellar connection you have with Sakura - and she feels the same sentiment. The feedback is subtle; the compliments start to pile on one another; you’re noticing features in her appearance that might be falling into the obvious scope of things, but you take note of them either way. 

Wasn’t that long until you’ve mustered up the courage to treat her out after she came to you for additional advice and pointers and such from one of her personal projects. Although the first date was an absolute train wreck to your standards, she was willing enough to come back around for more. 

One meeting happens again, and another. 

Then the next one. 

And the next one. 

The weeks start to mesh together aside from all the usual routines and responsibilities filling up your schedule and calendar. But you’ve managed to set time aside whenever possible because that’s all part of having fun with someone like her. And sure, you’re waiting for that Friday to hit every time because it relieves you of anything for a short period; it’s also safe to say that you’re not the only one. 

So you learn a lot of things about Sakura. More ways than you would like. 

And it’s not even worth blaming the lowered inhibitions due to the alcohol.  A test drive of sorts, the natural course of thoughts coming out from your brain and channeling that to your words and actions whenever you’re around her, there’s that appreciation in the honesty - wondering where has this girl been all your life?

Because Sakura falls in a lot of ways. Ways that you would never have expected:

“For one thing,” you’re telling her while being roped deeper into the club by her hand, “I don’t think the number 1-800-hot-n-fun was a viable one to go with, by the way.” She twists her head around once getting past the foyer, opening up from the inside to scattered crowds spaced away from the dance floor. As expected for a Friday night to no surprise -  the thrumming of your eardrums in response to the overpowering bass proving a clear struggle in terms of discernibility. 

“Do I have to remind you again?” Sakura tells you, loosening the grip as you’ve managed to get in close proximity, unfazed when your body is practically on top of hers, passing through the crowd, “We’re doing that thing with Miss ‘you - know - who’. Unless you’re asking me to just leave your ass back in the apartment, but oh wait - you're already here with me as it is.” 

“Sure.” And that’s how things like these usually go with her: you’ll be doing one thing, then the familiar contact on your phone pops up on your lockscreen. Some days you’d drop whatever you were doing in a heartbeat - if it was willing to kill time or procrastinate, she’d know your answer already. “Drop the code name. You’re not being really inconspicuous with-” 

“Kazuha? But it fits the profile perfectly!” She’s beaming, exchanging a few glances with some regulars hovering outside the dance floor, her face lighting up with wide eyes andan open an open mouth.

“But seriously,” you say, and with as much sarcasm that you could pull out of your ass, “I thought that was a one-time thing with her.” Sakura rolls her eyes, spearheading to one of the booths on the far end of the dance floor, secluded in a suspicious corner where no one else would end up unless being escorted off with enough shots in their system to do so in the first place. 

And you learn - with Sakura, nothing is ever a one time thing with her. Ever. She brought you into a trap, the kind where you couldn’t even get out of if you tried. 

Like all necessary cues for an entrance, this one doesn’t really have a notable introduction since you’re the one that’s interested without actually saying it explicitly. The lone girl sitting in the booth catches your eye, spacing out with the colorful floating lights occasionally hitting her face as she appears to be breaking a sweat despite her stoic expression. 

She looks nervous, probably flustered at the fact that she’s even in the dance club considering how flushed her face looks without the color. You look over to Sakura, to which she smiles with her eyes, already feeling the stage being set for what’s to come.

“You sure you want to leave this as a one - off?” She asks, combing down some of her hair while waving at the girl in the booth. “Think of this as a chance to redeem yourself with her - her - I mean, me.” 

“Not everything has to be about you. Acting as the lynchpin when you also want to join in on the fun as well.” 

Sakura nicks her head, that prying grin coming at the corner where you can’t see it up front. She studies your features, the way your face crinkles at every remark or sly comeback that leaves her lips, priming those synapses ready and raring for how she wants this night to go. “That’s exactly what’s going to happen. It worked last time, and it’ll work again.” 

With all thoughts considered, it all leads to one inevitable conclusion: 

“I’d love for you to work her over again, like you did before,” she husks, lazily placing her lips along the line of your jaw. The nerve ends down your neck and spine tingling at the contact as your feet move along with hers, approaching closer to the lone girl waiting at the table, locking irises and noticing her pulled lip. “And just for your information, she’s so into you.” 

“Are you sure it’s not the other way around with him?” Kazuha butts in, sliding over a subtle appetizer of some casual chips and assorted dips; the duo of Arnold Palmers is also quick to follow soon after. “I mean, you’re the one who likes to kiss everybody, Sakura.” 

“Not true,” she rebukes. “But I-” 

“If you want to test that theory,” you’re telling the both of them, smiling with eyes trained alternating on looks, sipping a bit of the beverage down, “I think both of you would be convinced to take this somewhere that allows more misbehavior to happen.” 

-

It’s not that you’re not able to remember the events of last night. It’s the fact that you can’t remember what took place last night at all. 

Though your memory starts to stir back to normal at the floating pair of lips hovering over and around your face in the late morning going into the afternoon.

You’re squinting from the overbearing light that breaks through the curtains and and the ambient sounds of traffic in the distance from the open window. There’s also the realization that the mobility in your body is severely hammered, and with good reason. 

A look up past the sheets, and it’s a body pressed next to yours, sprawled with an arm and leg thrown over your thigh and stomach, still trying to be mindful in care not to wake you. She looks up at you with doe eyes before fluttering them shut and nestling deeper into the side of your chest, rubbing her hand across the more she gets comfortable. 

“About time you woke up,” she mumbles, giggling at you, plopping your head back onto the pillow. “I was wondering if you were actually dead or something, not that I would be worried of course.” 

“And if I was?” The question alone is alone is rhetorical as it sounds, blinking up towards the ceiling while adjusting your body meshed into the mattress and in between the sheets, “I feel like you could’ve put in a little more effort to, well, bring me back to life.” 

This girl then sits up, lets the comforter trickle down to her waist, exposing her breasts; the marks still apparent from the night prior, serving to be a good kickstarter for your memory now that most of the alcohol should’ve subsided by now. “Maybe I should’ve put more effort into that, the same way that you handled us,” she tells you, “God, you really don’t remember anything from last night, do you?” 

“Sakura,” you say, and you’re calling her out with a soft laugh bubbling beneath your stomach.. “I’d hate to be honest with you, but I can’t even remember the amount of drinks we had at the place. That’s how you know it’s bad if you were in my shoes.” 

“But you were still sober enough to dick me down after a long week?” 

You don’t give an answer to Sakura’s question, but the way her actions do the talking should already say enough: placing kisses on your shoulder, shuffling herself closer to you, hand slithering to a certain spot where it’s also jogging your memory. 

“Sweetie,” you tell her, a dragged - out sigh leaving your lips once Sakura’s practiced fingers start to touch down around your half-hardened cock. “You wouldn’t mind helping me remember what we did last night, right?” 

Well, of course, she’d say, but instead she laces that phrase in the form of a kiss. Knowing her, she’d be willing to assist in whatever it is that you do. A transactional service: you do one thing for her and she’d do the same. And the repayment could really come in a handful of methods, but this one usually takes top of the list. 

“I don’t,” Sakura answers, giggling softly when you’re trying to push for more, leaning your head to meet her lips, her pulling away just to play a little tease. “As much as I would love to help you, I can’t be the only one to do all the work around here. It tarnishes your gentlemanly appearance, but that’s what I think.” 

You pull one of her legs up, shifting her closer to you when she has her lips working you again, hand twisting deliberately around your cock. The pace alone is strategic and slow, but very well practiced and methodical, licking up her palm to ensure she’s soaking up the sensitive surface in every spot possible. 

She also takes the hint with the sliding hand up her waist, straddling over your thighs to where you’re almost pinned against the headboard, grip still apparent around your shaft, keeping steady the more she scooches her hips up beneath your groin. You get lost in the valley of her waist, the defined abs well deserved from the hard work in the gym, the gaze she possesses with those lovely, messy locks in her hair, the pure seductiveness with her hand grazing her breast. You’re being pulled back in with another intoxicating kiss, filled with so much care and and love, and all of that to be replaced with undesirable lust that seems to entrap both of you like the heavenly light breaking through the thin curtains in your room. 

The taste, the scent of her - still present from last night’s tales - are another reminder and trick for your mind to work around against the lingering after effects of the alcohol. 

“Is it working?” She asks, holding herself just above your length with hands fast around your neck, “Or do you still need some help getting your memory up to speed?” 

Sakura then reaches over to the nightstand, a Polaroid captured in between her pointer and middle finger, eyes slanted along with her face, watching you examine the picture in the small snapshot. Another fragment is obtained through this, internalizing the appearance of her marked - up body sprawled up on the same bed you’re lying in, with another body next to her but the face isn’t shown. 

Just as you’re about to say your answer, she catches you by surprise, the press of her lips on you again, hips jumping up in impulse when her pussy settles on top of the underside of your shaft, hands naturally trained to her hips as the slow pecks eventually become more inviting, passionate. 

Maybe the home remedies would’ve been a sufficient option to cure your hangover, but with Sakura, she herself is the best kind of morning after pill that you’ll take the chance over if the opportunity presents itself like it has right now. Her kisses become more intoxicating, hoping that you’ll want her in the same fashion that she’s emitting - a being that’s blessed with a wanting so addicting, it’s impossible to think twice about it. Your mouth makes its way down the fine column of her throat and then to her chest, marking up the same spots as you did the night before, tugging onto one of her stiff nipples with your teeth. 

The grip in your hair with her fingers starts to become tighter, forcing her body onto you more. She holds you there, cheek pressed to the crown of your head, the moans proving to be positive feedback for you, grinding her hips slightly over your cock, making your grasp more protective of her, as if you didn’t want her to leave your presence whatsoever. 

She captures your lips again, hands now on both ends of your face, humming in approval when yours find their way to her ass, clawing your fingertips on the soft skin, setting the tempo of how her pussy lips glide across your cock, bathing it in her slick, and a small feeling of what’s to come in the passing minutes. Her teeth clash with yours on accident, laughing as she scaffolds her kisses down to your cheek, to the pulsepoint, on your trap, biting lightly as a proud badge of honor. Pulling away, she bites her lip, placing another kiss before pressing you back to the wall. 

“Saku,” you sputter, gasping out when her hips slide forward, pressing herself down on your cock that tenses all of the muscles in your legs, straightening them out beneath the sheets for a moment. “Fuck, you–” 

“Shh,” she says, finger on your lips.. “It’s helping a lot, right?” Her hand sliding down your chest, nails grazing across your skin riddled with goosebumps, probably because of how cold the room has gotten but at the same time how the heat between your two continues to build up. “I gave you two hints already, so do what you will with that.” 

“I think it is coming together,” you say, puppy dog eyes in amazement with how Sakura keeps your chin tilted up while the movement of her hips hypnotizes you. “But seriously, holy fuck, I-” 

Sakura pays no attention to your spills of cutoff praise, a moan from her lips and yours let out in unison when she rubs her clit right at the tip, hunching her back over, your face getting caught between the figurative net that is her tits, drawing another mark with your teeth and soothing it after with the flat plane of your tongue. 

If she’s not careful, this right amount of pressure from her pussy over your aching cock might spell disaster for you before even getting started with resuming last night's activities. Her body is already becoming a live wire to feed off on; the taste and how responsive she’s been so far, you’ll play into it for as long as she allows it. 

Luckily, she knows your body well enough as hers, stopping herself as she scooches down. The trail of kisses coming back with the first couple scattering their way down from your lips, cheeks, and neck, now down to the chest. Every touch of her lips across the canvas of your body only sends your mind deeper into that endless barrel of delusion and madness from the fantasies you’ve discovered with Sakura. 

It might also be worth mentioning how she substituted her pussy for her hand again, dainty fingers well placed around your shaft again, pulling it upwards as she buries herself beneath the sheets, lips now planting kisses at the hip and down to the thigh, then turning her attention to your twitching cock. 

You could feel the muscles in your ass clench underneath her body, watching with the comforter raised up to hide her from the open doorway, focused on how her breath grazes along your underside, carefully working her way up to place a chaste kiss to your tip, her tongue getting the first tastes of her favorite snack, swallowing the head first. 

She then inches down a bit, pulling herself up and out, tongue swirling and well trained. The feeling settles in static breaths, watching her be grateful for the reward she’s worked hard for in the short span of time. Her head lowers for another second, you lift your hips up to meet in the middle for her, and she stares at you with glossy eyes. 

The comforter gets lowered as your hands find themselves onon Sakura’s wrists. 

“Saku,” you groan automatically. Sakura’s eyes flutter in approval when she slides her puckered lips further down your length. The tiny press of her perfect lips, her tongue again slathering up the underside again, tracing a vein. 

Her hand finds itself at the base, building up a rhythm in her bobs that you’re all too familiar with. Tongue and the opening past her mouth and into the throat, moving in every move imaginable that she knows that you love and like. 

And it’s also this double-edged sword - a blessing or curse on her terms, how the vibrations coming from her vocal cords wrap around your cock whilst in her mouth, letting you know how ravishing you are for her cravings. 

“Keep the comforter over me.” Sakura commands, purring. Mixing in the swiping of her tongue as well as the erotic kisses she’s spoiling your cock with. Her head goes sideways, treating to one side of the base, dipping down to take one of your balls in her mouth. She’s also aware of how much you like your blowjobs to be wet, so it’s no surprise when she spits all over your cock, ensuring that no spot was left untouched with her saliva. 

You do as she says, letting your hands rest beneath the sheets along with Sakura; the view of the room now opened up past the obstruction, watching as the small bump between your legs indicated Sakura’s head, slowly feeling her head working her way down your cock, gasping when you feel the tip of her nose meet your stomach. 

She laughs with a mouthful of cock in her mouth still when she hears the sound of the back of your head hitting the wall, gripping the fuck out of her wrist on your leg to let her know that she’s doing wonders - in addition to the tension in your hips, bucking as she’s putting enough effort to take all of you down her throat, shifting her head side by side with the small chokes minimized with the comforter over her. 

The pace comes back, but this time with more variety. A hand is wrapped around your shaft, holding it in one spot while her mouth takes you right at the half, gagging as the suction deepens. She’s managed to have your cock slicked up enough to where her fingers are easy to swivel around, doubling down on the stimulation. 

Sakura isn’t one to really be forward when it comes to 'relieving your stress’, but with the amount of practice that she’s had from past experiences,, that thread of thoughts continues to open different avenues to sit on a balcony and ponder on. Earlier this week she felt compelled to have you bust all over her face because of how hot you looked while doing a virtual meeting on the couch; you’re picturing the image in your head - how she looks so good with your lips on you, so practiced, mouth pressuring all the right spots and tongue slicing through a vein and maybe lower. 

“Baby, baby, holy shit,” you’re moaning out again, getting a response from Sakura’s filled-up mouth, picturing the furrowed eyebrows and half-lidded eyes beneath the sheets. She moves your hands up from her wrists and into her hair, prompting you to shove the best inches down into her throat, much to the point where you’re nearly sitting upright to do so. 

This isn’t something to think too hard about: thrusting your hips into Sakura’s face in the morning - into that sweet heat of her mouth, how her nails are creating crevices in your skin, relaxing her mouth and throat enough to stuff nearly all of your length to that one hole of hers. You know that she could go on with this for as long as you’d like, instinctively helping her part a few stray fringes in her hair without even being able to see it. She’s sometimes worried if you’re hurting yourself with every deepthroat she does to you, assuring that having no gag reflex makes these bits in the whole experience a whole lot more pleasurable. 

“Mmph.” 

“This fucking mouth of yours, Saku,” you mumble, not paying any care to the increased volume of gags or the purring vibration of her open mouth creating this vacuum within your stomach - since the addicting suction and clench were about to send you into oblivion. 

“Mmmmph…” 

“God,“ you choke out. One thing you don’t want to accept to yourself or to anyone, for that matter: this was the best fucking way to wake up. 

“So fucking good,” she mumbles.

Another thing you’d hate to admit sometimes is the fact that even though you've been restricted from seeing Sakura take in your cock so well underneath the sheets, that’s traded in for how fast you could feel yourself coming undone again. That sense of pride also put you in jeopardy because every lick, plunge, and slip of your length into her mouth was another step in the pattern in transition to holding herself steady. It also doesn’t help that she tilts her head up, poking the head of your cock on the inside of her cheek, swiping the tongue at the underside, and seriously, this woman. 

The eerie ringing between your ears starts to pop up randomly, your body getting riddled with every overstimulating feeling being thrown right at it. The slickness in her mouth, the grip around the root becoming too tight, the gags becoming intense - your mouth is hanging low as your eyes begin to roll up to the back of your head. She doesn’t plan on playing it safe, and the edge is rapidly getting to you; it’s too fast, too soon, okay, oh fuck, oh fuck. 

“Saki!” a voice calls out past the open door leading into the hallway. “Where the fuck are you?” Shit, the tone sounds awfully familiar, and you also notice the trail of clothes along the floor. Another fragment from last night flashes in your brain; though, you’re trying to keep focus while Sakura’s heat surrounds your cock as you hear the sound of feet scraping along the hardwood floor. 

“Saki, I-” The second girl stops short past the door, phone in her hand and hair tousled, but still presentable. She’s wearing your dress shirt from the night before, unbuttoned and parted perfectly enough to where you could see the inner curve of her tits - her long, creamy thighs stand out to you, making your lowered jaw salivate when she cocks her head to the right out of curiosity, hands behind her back with her tongue buried behind her bottom lip. “Well, what do we have here?” 

How could you forget? The additional set of clothes on the floor? The lady next to Sakura’s ruined body covered with cum on the Polaroid photo?

Kazuha. Who else but Kazuha? 

“Good morning,” you greet, paying no attention to your hands as they appear to be all over the place before settling themselves above the sheets, just adjacent to the subtle bump where Sakura’s bobbing head was located. “I was wondering where you went off to.” 

“I couldn’t really sleep, so I thought it would be a good idea to whip up some food to kill time,” says Kazuha, biting her lip at the sight of your hand resting above the oddly shaped form between your legs and underneath the sheets. “You wouldn’t mind if I asked: Where the heck is Saki?” 

“Well,” you try to say, pretending to be oblivious while the heat of Sakura’s mouth trails your mind off into dreamland. “I’ll give it to you straight; she’s not here.” 

“Uh huh,” Kazuha breathes, unamused. “Really though, where did she go?” She asks, raising herself up on her tiptoes, slowly migrating closer to the edge of the mattress, noticing the heels hanging out of the edge. “I could’ve sworn she was next to you when I woke up.” 

“She was,” you reply, keeping that sly smile from breaking out in the frame of your face. “I don’t know if you checked the bathroom if she’s there, but that’s one place to start looking if you ask me.” 

Kazuha pays no attention to your answer, only keeping her eyes fixed on the pair of feet at the edge of the matter, palming an area for what appears to be Sakura’s calf, which makes her stop her controlled bobbing around your cock for a moment, stunned at the sudden press of Kazuha’s hand pulling her head back off of your soaked shaft, gulping because she knows that she got caught. 

A look under the sheets, and Kazuha laughs, locking eyes with you while the offering of a sheepish grin is all that you could give her. “Really?” she asks, examining beneath the white layer to only see Sakura laying on her stomach, bare ass between your legs while you eventually call the act off, lifting off the sheets to give Kazuha a better look at Sakura’s head buried between your thighs, hand still well gripped into the threads of her hair. “If you guys are going to start the fun without me, then don’t even bother hiding it.” 

“We weren't hiding anything at all,” teases Sakura, dipping her head down your cock again that makes you clench at the feeling of her throat. 

“Pretty much seems that way to me.” Kazuha retorts. 

“Who was the one who woke up early again?” 

“Don’t I have a say in this?” You inquire, combing Sakura’s messy hair down while she moves her wrist around your length to occupy herself, causing you to shudder at the delicate touch. “I mean, Jesus, I guess Saku here couldn’t really help herself to me.” 

“She’s the worst.” Kazuha declares, slipping out of your dress shirt, now left with nothing but those lacy black pants she slipped on. 

“He worked you over; let me remind you,” Sakura replies, bearing a smug grin when she looks over towards you. “You finished on her back, and before that, you finished on me twice.” 

The corner of your eye picks up on Kazuha getting back on the bed, shuffling with her knees as she approaches closer to you. You remember again that she’s relatively well known in your circle of friends, considering the fact that she’s one of the four girls that you’re relatively affiliated with around campus. She’s only a year younger than you, but good friends with Sakura (obviously); and there’s also the duo of Chaewon and Yunjin, the pair of them also crazy in their own rights, respectively. 

“Your point being?” The question gets both of their attention, exchanging looks when Kazuha finally reaches to you, guiding your hand to her waist and around her back, Sakura placing neat kisses across your obliques, cock still welded to her hand and stroking gently. 

“I guess the golden question should be asked again,” says Sakura, bending her neck down to lightly tap the tip of your cock to her pouty lips. “Where do you think you’ll finish today? On our face? Down our throats? Our backs? Or maybe…”

“Maybe…” Kazuha teases, lifting her hands with yours up to her face, rubbing the pad of your thumb across her bottom lips, lightly sucking on it that’s insanely hypnotic. “Maybe he could finish inside us?” 

(Sakura and Kazuha: birds of a feather. You can’t fathom with the fact sometimes that they’ll act like angels, dress like crazy, and only have you around to tug the clothes off of them, as they’re babbling listlessly about how you’ll pin one of them down (or both) on the carpet, make paintings with your tongue all over their bodies; the taste of each more exquisite in every round you take them on, fucking them on any article of furniture within reach. )

Kazuha’s not even remotely close to you. You and her are just surface-level friends at best. Heck, she’s only a mere acquaintance in the swing of things, if you want to read deeper into the personal analysis of each other. The only line of connection you have with her is through Sakura. And from the last outing being a solid first impression for all parties involved, you’d laugh to yourself at times because Kazuha could never have enough of you and Sakura. 

“Kazuha, sweetie,” Sakura purrs, pulling her head up with a string of spit still attached to her chin. “You’ve had your fill with him already, literally.” And as she says that, you feel all of the muscles and bones in your body practically melt through the mattress beneath you from the overall presence and weight that these two women have. These two perfect dolls - imagining how their bodies will bend and crumple when you bury your cock inside both of them, shutting one up with the other’s cunt over their mouth. Sakura’s mouth has already made you want to test that edge, and with Kazuha’s? 

“I think we should let him decide who to dump his cum into, no?” Sakura suggests soon after pulling Kazuha’s body next to hers, allowing you to admire the live Renaissance painting taking place before you. She then pats Kazuha’s shoulders twice, much like something straight out of practice: Kazuha quick to get on top of your waist while Sakura scooches down to hold your cock tried and true back into her mouth, the pleasure instantaneous as Kazuha’s lips find yours for the first time today. 

Kazuha’s arms slither over the bridge of your collarbones, letting you indulge in her perky tits, trying to keep your focus on her while Sakura begins to up the ante again in scarfing up your cock. 

“I wanted you all to myself when I woke up first,” Kazuha says, tangling her fingers in your hair, softly moaning when you’re leaving sporadic marks all over her tits, capturing your lips again as you involuntary groan into her mouth, to which she receives it incredibly well. “But you were sleeping so soundly, I decided to leave you be.” 

You’re also wondering about the different things you had on your to-do list in your phone. Out of all times, why in the hell were you thinking about that now? You’ve got your personal love interest inhaling your cock by the second, with another friend in your arms who’s willing to be your personal fuckbuddy just for the sake of it. 

Kazuha’s features break a bit when you’ve got your lips catered to the stiff buts of her nipples, hands wandering across that toned back of hers, tracing the shoulder blades while the grasp in your fingers starts to crunch at the fine skin. 

“I think,” she husks, listening to the occasional gags Sakura’s doing on your cock continuously. “Maybe you’ve been wanting my mouth for a bit too now, huh?” 

(Well, yeah. I mean-) 

Kazuha quickly takes the hint right out of your mind, mirroring the same pathway of kisses that Sakura did not long ago, the same waves of pleasure mixed in with the return of goosebumps spreading across your body, hands still unsure where they play as they’re suspended in the air, giving way as Sakura slips your cock out of her mouth, twisting at the crown once Kazuha meets in the middle. 

The gaze they give you, from the both of them, exchanging glances with each other because these two share a brain cell together - that’s the simple assessment to observe when you’re left speechless. 

Thank God you cleared your morning from whatever schedule that was initially planned, because it wouldn’t have led to having these two in your bed wanting all of you. 

“Do I still have a say in this?’ You attempt to ask, studying how their eyes are full of infectious lust, the creeping grin spreading across their lips. “To be fair, I think I also need to get some morning stretching in before getting on with the morning.” 

“Oh, you’ll get your stretching in.” Sakura muses. 

“You won’t be saying anything from this point on,” declares Kazuha. 

No point in arguing against the pair; the verdict has already been decided. 

Sakura slides her hands up across your chest, laying you back down while Kazuha shuffles down to the original spot where Sakura was occupying, eyes drawn to the peek of Kazuha’s tongue on your cock, switching in between kisses and licks. 

A difference between Kazuha and Sakura when it came to blowing you: Sakura knew the different kinds of tricks from experimenting in the past couple months - what worked and what didn’t. Kazuha, on the other hand, was just yearning for the taste of you in her mouth, sealing her lips with the right press, eager to pick up where Sakura left off. It shouldn’t be making you feel like putty, but that’s exactly the case when she bottoms your cock out, clenching her throat that makes you twitch at the hip joints. 

Sakura gets a hand around your length, tethering you to one angle, Kazuha dipping down with just her mouth, with every bob up being met with a palm twisting around your shaft. The sounds that rumble from deep within your chest are enough proof that the thin walls surrounding you three won’t be quiet for any longer. 

Though your muscles could only stay tense for so long due to the fascinating clench, with Sakura joining back in on the fun that makes you fall slack to the mattress. She’s picking back up with kisses in certain areas of your groin where Kazuha has only glossed over, tongue well working up the seam of your balls, popping on in her mouth while Kazuha’s face is perpendicular, shifting up the side as if she’s playing the flute. 

Her brows furrow for a bit when she puts the head of your cock past her pretty lips, hollowing her cheeks for a moment, swirling the tongue right underneath the tip, enough for you to tense up your length in her mouth, and you’re met with wide eyes, feeling the small release of cum onto her tongue. Kazuha then slips you out for a second, licking her lips as you’re putting everything into your body to not bust this early. 

“I think he’s had enough of me, Saki. What do you think?” Kazuha observes, “Do you want more of him again?” 

“Is that even supposed to be a question? Let me remind you who’s the sluttiest between the two of us.” Sakura grits, voice laced with a firm determination, as her eyes are now filled with fire building deep within the corneas. 

You might be fucked here. But hey, that’s all part of the fun with these two. Remember? 

Not that it was any sort of competition, so to speak, but with how they synergize together, the movements of their mouths all over their shaft, guiding one’s mouth over your cock, taking turns, whispering these sweet instructions of ‘hold here’ and ‘right there, baby,’ and even ‘god, spit all over his cock, baby. You know he likes it wet,’ it’s impossible for you to stand tall, the assault on your shaft turning into a monumental task from here on out. 

Sakura asserts herself over Kazuha, fingers fast around the base, lowering her jaw enough so that the speed of the bobbing can be much quicker, and it is. Judging from how loudly you ground for the both of them to hear, Kazuha’s hands find themselves on the back of Sakura’s head, grabbing handfuls of hair as she guides her down again, making her swallow you. All of you. Until you could feel the vibrations of her hums rattling down your length and into your lower body. 

Kazuha whispers into Sakura’s ear, too difficult to hear since the whines drown out the continuous gagging she’s proffering over your cock, putting her at the base for what feels like an eternity. One second. Two seconds. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. She’s still holding you down with the tightness of her throat, the urge to put your hand over Kazuha’s, prolonging the unbelievable sensation, and three taps to your hip signal that Kazuha’s had enough. 

She pulls her head back up, coughing; these destroyed attempts at sobs breaking through the air. You’re left gasping, pressing the back of your head into the pillow beneath you as they both tend to your soaked cock, looking back up as they move in unison for a moment, then switching off different places around the underside while the moans just keep on coming. Hands are also fast to comb back the light obsidian and honey golden locks, not wanting to ruin their flow when they meet to kiss with your cock caught in between the crossfire. 

“You girls are something else,” you husk, ears filled with the sounds of their giggles as they both continue with their makeout session, alternating with mouths and occasionally your cock still in both of their hands. The wet kisses being shared were an absolutely wonderful sight to see, and though you forget that you could also have fun for yourself, taking the liberty to press both of their lovely lips on the sides of your shaft, laughing and moaning up and over the length while you just watch. And you keep watching, feeling the puffed-up chest of yours almost rise to where your chin’s at, sucking your gut inwards as your hips do the familiar motion of raising themselves upwards to the both of them. 

“He’s ready for us, hmm?” Sakura asks, wiping a patch of drool away from her chin. “Kazu, you get to ride him first. I’ve got to make sure he’s well rewarded for his patience, okay?” 

Kazuha nods, watching as she primes herself, touching her slick folds as Sakura shuffles herself up past your chest, getting her thighs buried into your armpits, her pussy hovering right over your face, not wanting to wait another second as you pull her hips down, moaning into her core as Kazuha teases her walls with the head of your cock just for good measure. 

“Don’t, fuck, please." Sakura pleads, taken by shock when your tongue swipes up her pussy lips, taking in the sweetness while making note of how slick she’s gotten for you. The pads of your fingers grip on her legs a bit tighter, her nose shifted up to rub her clit slightly, and she yelps. Kazuha laughs right behind her, sinking her warmth over your shaft, eliciting a moan that gets transferred into Sakura’s leaking hole, licking up the folds when Kazuha finally settles your cock into her. 

“Shit!” 

Sakura clutches her fingers into your hair, moaning to no avail as you quench that thirst you’ve been searching for this entire morning, and she starts to grind her pussy lips across your face, rolling slowly as your mouth hangs open, letting the sounds of rapture spill out of her mouth with every lick you do to her. 

“You’re so good,” Sakura moans out, feeling the latch of your lips onto the nub, flattening out your tongue again across her folds, earning another moan in approval. You smile against her hips when your ears are filled with the endless phrases of cursing that you’ve heard way too often, but it never gets old. Ever. “Why are you so... so fucking good at this?” 

So you try to speak, but all that’s said is buried underneath the drain of her pussy, moaning out as a proper response as Kazuha picks up her pace in riding your cock, feeling the clash of her hips with yours, bottoming out your length that makes you lock your knees to ensure that the lower half of your body is stable enough for her frame. 

Kazuha increases the chances, setting her legs up in a squatting position, keeping herself upright with just her hands on your waist, letting her face onto Sakura’s sweaty back. She lets herself float over you for a minute, taking the chance to catch her breath while you begin to piston her pussy, thrusting upwards. You’re met with a low groan spilled out of Kazuha’s lips in response to your action, only to be drowned out when she lowers her hips to meet with yours, the primal slaps filling up the room and bouncing around the walls. 

The inevitability of cumming a full-fledged broken dam into Kazuha’s cunt was a thought filling your mind, but you try to not think too much about it; Sakura’s pussy was still a thing to deal with, maintaining your pace with every lick you do to her clit.

Effort was everything; that was something to keep in mind when it comes to fucking Sakura. She loves it when you get so into it just like her, because you too can’t get enough of ruining this perfect girl every chance you get. Kazuha was also on the same boat, and by how your thighs continue to shake at the weight of her hips coming down on you again and again, it’s impossible to ignore how good she is too - keep it coming, Sakura’s telling you, in the lovely sounds filling up your ears coming from her and Kauhza. You’re fucking me so good, baby. I love it when your cock throbs inside me. Please give it to me. I know you want to. 

Kazuha knows you’re close, and Sakura’s not far off in the lost rails of rhythm. Her pussy is flooding on your face, the please becoming more erratic and desparte.

“God, I’m going - I'm going.” 

The words coming out of you are buried underneath Sakura’s thighs. 

"Fuck, I can’t with your fucking-ah!” 

Kazuha does one drive back down your length, and then one more for good measure. Sakura’s hips tremble over your face, quivering and hips trembling as you drag her pussy right across your tongue. Your arms latch somewhere above Sakura’s ass, matching her clutches with the digits buried in your locks, a fire lit under your chest as Kazuha’s cunt grips you like a knot - the heat from their bodies and yours submerging you as if you were in lava. Kazuha bucks forward, face hitting Sakura’s back, holding herself up with her hands as the pounds from thrusting upwards become increasingly unstable, her ravine of a pussy getting you closer and closer to that edge while you can’t even think straight. 

A swipe up the tongue on Sakura’s folds. Then three more, nibbling on her clitoral area as her thighs start to press inward from both sides of your head. She keeps grinding, dragging her swollen lips across the ridges of your face, mewling with a hand on the headboard, giggling as she mirrors the movements from grinding on your cock earlier. 

Kazuha slams her hips down, and not in a nice fashion since, well, fuck, legitimately, her cunt seizes your cock, smearing her sweet juices all over the rough bits, a vein that’s concealed with her walls, keening when she feels the swollen head shoved up inside her twitch that really makes her feel like mash. Her nails are ripping apart the skin on your stomach, searching for a hold to grab on to. It’s all futile when your body’s elevated to a temperature where there’s glistening sweat all over - her hands slip off and land on the cushions, priming the angle where you’ve hit before, fucking her deeper. She hisses when your balls lightly tap the pucker of her ass, just a bit, but that turns her on so much more. 

“This cunt,” you mumble out, mouth still full of Sakura’s pussy, “Kazu, I can’t, babe. Your pussy is unreal.” 

“Okay,” Sakura flatly says, “fuck.” And Kazuha just laughs, fluttering her eyes shut when you’ve latched onto the lower part of her thighs. “Keep working on him, Zu. You know he loves your pussy that much, right?” 

“Yes, yes, yes, God.” 

“Cum inside her.” Sakura instructs, and it’s a bid that you had no second thought of doing. “How nice of her to be your little personal fuckdoll, hm? To just handle her in ways that you want her to, nice and sticky and all fucked out, because you know she’ll come back for more, baby.” 

The next move she does is so calculated, you can’t even tell or determine if she did it on the fly: placing Kazuha’s chin on the small divot in her collarbone, the image of her closed eyes, the frizzes in her wavy hair slightly covering part of her face, shaken because of how your hips drive upwards into her. And Sakura just does the simple motion of putting her palm on the side of her face, parting her mouth open while you can only watch with your eyes since the lower half of your face is still attached to Sakura’s pussy. 

“Saku,” a frail call in the last seconds, “She feels so good.” 

“Fuck your cum into her, baby,” Sakura growls again, clawing the sides of your head as she ruts her hips deeper into your mouth. “That’s the only thing that matters. Until she’s full with the fucking thickness of it.” 

You managed to fuck Kazuha through her climax a minute or two ago, and now she’s repaying you by fiddling through yours. 

It’s an unraveling feeling when you push past that brink, filling up her tiny cunt with cum, molding her fuckhole to every detail of your member. And she’s mouthing, Sakura’s expression filled with glee, saying, Aw baby, god, yes, would you look at her? She loves it when you fuck a nice load into her, fresh and hot, and-

“Christ,” you grit out, hoarsely, letting the pulses channel out of your body, Dick still grinding the deepest parts of her stomach, cum splattering every spot to be left untouched inside. The throbs are still happening, but with every hold you have, your cock starts to die out in the heat of her hips. 

The senses are all over the place when Kazuha slips her pussy off of your cum-soaked cock, Sakura’s hips now hovering above your face, shifting off when you still see the constellations flash in your eyes, vision blurring and deblurring to the image of Kazuha paying no attention to Sakura’s state, sloppily placing her lips with hers again, rough. 

These two kiss like friends, maybe friends who have had a little bit too much to drink in order for them to act like this. They’ve done this with Yunjin and Chaewon for sure, based on the stories that you’ve heard. With or without the alcohol, they both show this kind of affection because it's natural, watching as Sakuraa’s hands find Kazuha’s head, Kazuha slithering her arms behind Sakura’s back, letting the passion take over both of their bodies. They both take the time to indulge in each other's features: hands wandering, mouths on nipples, gripping necks and pulling waists closer, Sakura teasing Kazuha’s well-worked cunt, a fingertip soaked with a bit of your cum, licking it cleanly off her fingers. 

And the hums. The fucking hums that these two are spilling out. You’re basically drooling when they pick up where they left off with the kissing, paying no attention to you as your hand starts to slowly slide over your cock, palming it before your fingers start to wrap around the length one by one. You’re equally fucked just like them, but there’s no problem with that. 

Both of them take as much time as they needed - tender lips and tongues canvassing every part of their exposed bodies, eyes recording every second of this account - in hopes that you can play this back in your mind as Kazuha smiles with full delight to match your expression, drinking in the sight of the show presented right on your lap. 

“I think Saku’s ready for you,” Kazuha hushes, lightly dragging her fingertips across the taut line of Sakura’s abs, resting on the underside of her breast, like a showoman who is trying to entice like she’s selling the latest model of a car. Her hand then goes down to Sakura’s clitoral area, rubbing it in circles when the mountains of pillows and sheets are unearthed from the mattress, ruffling and crumpling with the movements of their legs and feet, being pulled by your hand to the edge of the bed. “She made a mess all over your face, didn’t she? Now you’ve got to pay her back.” 

You’ve gotten out of bed in a heartbeat multiple times before. One morning was because you were late to class; the other time was to follow the view of Sakura’s bare ass tiptoeing into the kitchen for another meal before starting the day - and here you were, with a rearranged order in what probably feels like slow motion but one constant movement throughout, hand never leaving the meat and bone of Sakura’s ankle, assisting Kazuha by reeling Sakura, who’s shying away, but this is exactly what she wants. 

“Our little baby of a whore is deprived of a thick cock filling up her guts,” Kazuha sighs, expression a bit fatigued with the way she’s still coming down from her high. “So do you think you can do me a favor? Stuff up her cunt nice and tuck first, then ruin her after. How does that sound?” 

You try to answer, at least, taken aback when Kazuha’s got her long fingers along the line of your hardening shaft and Sakura’s spreading her legs wider and wider. She’s holding you close. Closer. Aiming - tried and practiced - towards the heat of Sakura’s. It’s a hook, line, and sinker when the head of your cockparts her walls, slippery and still leaking, feeling every nerve ending in her hips trickle a thousand volts inside. 

“Make her beg for it. I think you’ll be able to fuck her filthy with how she’s wanting to cum for you.” Kazuha’s tone drops down low, almost agitated. “This is payback for what she did to me last time, so I’ll let you be the judge.” 

And when the opportunity presents itself for you to determine that said call, it’s never a clear answer from the start if you’re willing to be honest with yourself. The one of many tricks Sakura has on her exposed sleeve, enchanting you with a heavy desire - the kind of want that could never be fully fulfilled. And, even in the days where it does feel like that, it doesn’t even come close to satisfying you. 

When you lock eyes with her, wide open to match with her parted mouth, bottoming her all the way with your cock tapping to that spot that has her keening, holding back her sigh as your groin meets the underside of her thighs. 

“Feel good, baby?” You ask Sakura, relieved at how she’s come to grips around your shaft burying inside her, head tilting back, clutching on to Kazuha’s forearm as your fingers find their place along her thighs. “Hm,” you assess soon after, inching your cock past the halfway point, “sure looks like it does.” 

Sakura’s mouth wobbles, gasping, her eyes draw shut, and her face flushes pink. She takes in your cock so well, the slipping slick of her thighs sounding off this noise of pure squelching; her whole upper body moves up in reaction; stomach bucking, chest puffing up to the open air, pushing in the deep area that has you speechless. 

The bottom palm of her hand grazes your groin, adjusting to how your cock molds around her cunt, hands shifting to the underside of the knees, using the rising octaves in her moans to indicate that she’s receptive and expressive in approval. Amidst the growing chaos the lower half of your body is going through, Kazuha takes liberty in massaging Sakura’s breasts, rubbing her stomach as it bloats from the air being exhaled in whines and expletives. 

“Ugh, fuck, you." She’s blabbering at this point. 

And there’s you, finding your rhythm, your groove, enjoying the way her soft skin maps out across your rough and grainy fingers, how it sinks in so smoothly - much closer to melting, it seems - something of that degree. 

“-mhm,” and there’s the “can’t baby, ah, ngh-” with more of, “-dick feels so good.” It’ll fall between the cracks, piercing deep, pulling out and sliding it across her folds just to play as a tease, because she deserves it without any reason, penetrating back in to pick up right where you left off. 

Sakura’s body is that one journey that you can never get tired of looking at. How her thighs are just immaculately perfect, that waist offering up those sets of abs on a pedestal, the way her tits rebound on the upstroke when you’ve got past the spot of bottoming her out - where your cockhead grips at the soft spot where it’s been at multiple times, squeezing and swallowing and resting where it should belong in every case with her. 

Kazuha shifts her body from the side of Sakura, getting lower to rest her head right above her waist, a trail of kisses circling over her stomach and belly button, getting caught in the throes of pleasure when you realize that Sakura’s got two fingers inside Kazuha, helping her treat herself and assisting the self-induced action. 

“God, Saki, look at him all fucked out in your pussy, huh?” Kazuha bites down in an area on her waist just above her cunt, nose brushing down lower to her clit, hand curling around to the bottom of her inner thighs, keeping it out of your way. “She wraps you so well, doesn’t she? Finally getting fucked again after last night?” 

“Don’t you know it,” you answer, and there’s no other need to spiel something that’s already been known; Sakura can make you shut the fuck up with her mouth, her cunt, and the way that she talks pure sex. You love how she’s nothing more than mush and warmth. A fine tapestry that’s meant to stay untouched, but you’ll tear all the edges down where the seams have already been shredded. 

You get thrown off when Sakura’s pussycle clenches at the hilt, where the contraction captures the air bubbling in your lungs, turning the legs into jelly, and the bobble forward into her lying body on the mattress only punctuates without saying a word. Kazuha laughs at the sudden change in weight on her head, causing you to stand back up with your knees to the bed holding you up, drawing away as Kazuha gazes at your silken cock, soaked with Sakura, lightly teasing when you’re pushing the tip in and out for good measure. 

Kazuha rises from her bent state, lazily putting her lips on yours as the pace slows a bit in the lower half of you - darting your cock in with one firm stroke. Hard. The strokes themselves are now more impactful, and ripping, the snap is becoming more assertive. “Fuck, sir, fucking,” Sakura cries out, the coil of her cunt tying you in. Kazuha sets herself back to where she was, resting her cheek on her waist as every entry with your cock, body bouncing on the soaked sheets from all the sweat and leaking slick coming out. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, ah.” 

Sakura’s hands hold at her thighs, gyrating upwards at every point where your cock buries at the deepest depth, swelling at the unimaginable clench to where she mewls, wailing but cute at how she’s tuckered out. 

“Goodness gracious,’ You spit out, in a half-sob, the moans and utterances and simple replies to Kazuha’s endless mumbling, repeating in one same fashion or the other. “You’re so-so fucking wet, and for what? God-” 

“Look at what you did to her,” Kazuha tuts, biting on the inside of her thigh, and Sakura basically yelps. A mix of pain and pleasure, the best of both worlds. You tug yourself out of her cunt, slapping the swollen cockhead on the nub of her clit, sighing at the way she shudders. “Do you think she deserves to finally let go?’

The responses that pass through your lips are just staggered breaths, tumbling down as the slaps start to line up with your heartbeat. A fine point in pace, your internal metronome that only leads to the dwindling doom of your thick cock thrusting Sakura’s tight pussy. 

“Love it,” Sakura mutters, head fallen to the provided pillow courtesy of Kazuha; she’s sobbing. “Love your cock, so fucking much.” 

“Mhm honey,” and the pet names in themselves are just the ad-libs thrown into the mix, with the right touch of pheromones and increase of dopamine being shot up to the brain. “Get it in there nice and deep; I want her to own it, feel it, because this cock is all hers.” 

“-god.” 

The riled-up exhale comes in reflection of the ecstasy, every bit of praise coming from Kazuha’s lips playing hand-in-hand with Sakura’s moans filling your ears. 

“Think you can hold out a bit longer, Saki? Kazuha croons, head turned the opposite way as she admires the sucked-out gaze Sakura wears on her face, meeting your eyes again. “I’m doing you a favor since he fucked my brains out last time, so be thankful. You greedy bitch.” 

“Shut your fucking-ugh.” 

“Don’t even think about keeping it in,” Kazuha doubles down, dragging her nails across Sakura’s inner thigh, forcing her legs wide open once more, almost as if she’s doing the splits across the length of the mattress. “He’s so perfect for you, hitting all of the right spots and all the right places? In that creaming pussy of yours? How his fucking fat cock splits you up into oblivion? Come on now, just-” 

“My fucking god,” you blurt out, in complete shock at the words that were spilling out of Kazuha’s mouth like emptying an open bucket full of water. “You are a piece of work.” 

Kazuha just laughs, taking the compliment to heart, with some mischief still showing with her closed eyelids. Sakura whines, going silent, shaking as your fingers bruise the same spots where the grip on her waist was first. 

The lust starts to boil to a point where nothing else is given a second though, and it’s been that way for a while now, fueled with a hunger that could replace the morning cup of coffee with ease, watching as your cock vanishes into Sakura’s pussy, the moans hitting similar notes that are now just echoes of the night prior. 

“Ah, uh, almost there." Sakura, once forward in her advances, now reduced to simple begs and pleads, the gaze half-lidded, back arching off the rumples in the sheets. She’s so fucking wet for you, and that’s another mental note that’s circling back in your head for probably the tenth time this morning so far, and might worth mentioning that it’s still in the fucking morning. 

“Oh? Make her do it, babe.” Kazuha orders the go-ahead, a hand - well, actually, both hands full of Sakura’s breasts, claiming it as hers. “I think she’s willing to be killed while being split open.” 

You’re paying zero attention to the words - grunting and passing air - as the piledriving only seems to be the sole constant that your mind and body seem to be focusing on. 

It’s a bit disorienting how your vision blacks out before coming back with color, the mind playing tricks as if you were getting your head dunked underwater and pulled back up, gasping for air. The thrusting never stops, with every fiber in your body, pooling it into fucking Sakura’s open cunt in the best way possible. Her hips are past the breaking point, grinding up against yours. She’s wailing, towards hyperventilation, eyes rolling upward to the back of her head, mouthing, close. You can easily tell, I’m so fucking close for you. Keep ramming your dick into me. 

“Saki,” now you’re saying the other nickname, and Kazuha grins, finally having her moment. “Fuck, baby-” 

Sakura looks away as Kazuha looks up, chin lightly tapping your hips - the devilish smile she possesses - it’s a rare occurrence, but that look could haunt you in your dreams: “Use her pussy, fuck everything up inside of her, I don’t care. Get her creaming all over you. I want to hear her screaming.” 

And Sakura fucking screeches. The better sound to wake up to rather than the annoying alarms on your phone. 

She holds still, every part of her body tensing - knees locking, toes curling, back arching and unarching - as Kazuha holds her down. The noises she’s making are loud enough to slip through the thin walls, and you can guess another complaint from the neighbors would be on the cards. Kazuha takes liberty into treating a barrage of kisses across Sakura’s body, you trying to drag your cock a little bit in, barely managing to drag yourself out. A brief effect from the aftershocks: her midsection freezing as the clamp around your cock starts to subside. 

Sakura whimpers with closed lips, shuddering when you finally slide out of her properly-fucked cunt, leaning down to kiss and kiss and kiss, dick taking the fresh, cold air as it rests along the bottom portion of her waist. Your hands get on her neck, helping her up with the arch in her back, hot and slicked and sweaty. Kazuha gives you two some space, playing as the makeshift crane to pull Sakura away from the clutches of your hands and lips, face racked in disappointment when Kazuha looks at you, smiling, tending to the mess that’s reforming in her arms. 

Kazuha then moves across the bed with her knees, a change in guard from Sakura to her when her body crashes into yours, the press of her lips good enough for you to fall on your back as the arms and chest eventually come into their own, molding with the canvas of your skin to mesh. She’s literally perfect for you - the way she wants more of you - in the taste of your lips, how your fingers explore every area of the framework that’s tensing and relaxing, reaching for spots that get her riled up in every way imaginable. 

You kiss and lick and grab wherever you can. A hand palming the firm skin of her ass, soft and plump. The hickeys and other various bite marks are an earned badge of honor for Kazuha to be proud of, her nails digging into the skin where your shoulders are as the grip on her ass-cheeks starts to become more and more possessive, slapping it as her forehead accidentally clatters yours. 

“Such a klutz,” she assesses, landing a loose kiss on the bottom of your chin. “Still able to think straight after fucking Saki relentlessly?” 

“What do you think?” You rebuke, dazed, as Kazuha gets a finger on a strand of your hair at the front, mimicking her messy bedhead bangs. 

“I mean,” she slips her tongue across your bottom lip, biting along the patch of few hairs, pulling her head back when she notices that your hands have never left the curve of her ass. “I think you’ve got more to offer, and here’s a bonus: there’s one hole that you haven’t filled yet.” 

It’s the most simple movement she could do, with any intent that she wanted to fabricate behind it. She turns around, swaying her ass from the left side as she’s on her hands and knees on the bed, stretching as far as she could possibly get them to reach. The arch starts to form along the fine lines of muscle displayed on her back, arms out straight as her legs find a proper foothold, spreading themselves for you to fill in the space. 

Your hands have never been quick to get themselves on something that you want, and this was the only exception; it’s appalling how easy the soft skin wraps around the underside of your fingers, picturing the look on her hidden face where you can only see the back of her head: in her lidded eyes, the swollen lip being captured between her teeth, the mumbling of insistence when all you’re just doing is feeling her out, resting your dick above her unfathomable cheeks, grazing the underside in the small divot at the middle, pressing them closer together, her hips reeling back and into your thighs, the listless moan spilling out of your mouth when the friction tightens at the belly of your cock. 

In fact, that’s the only thing you keep your focus on, not paying any sort of attention to Sakura when she shuffles out from beneath Kazuha’s lowered and bent body, doing this sort of army crawl to the nightstand for a certain thing. You’ve seen the arsenal that she has in that drawer, and some of the items were actually put to use in the last outing with Sakura and Kazuha. The instinctual thing that you do also is lean over to Kazuha’s backside and get one side of your face nestled into her as your hands wrap their way around her stomach, holding her close. 

Not much is said aside from the shaky exhales and whines, filled in with the occasional smacks of your lips across skin. Until-

“My turn to watch,” announces Sakura, a slim bottle in her hand, wrapped with those long, dainty fingers of hers. 

You blink once, and she’s on the edge where the nightstand is. You blink again, and she’s already made her way back to you, cap opened with the noise similar to an obvious crack of a stick, like breaking the silence in a quiet forest. 

Sakura’s hands become slick, as if her hand were made of the smooth liquid itself. The grip she has on you is breathlessly attractive: palm sliding across the length, strategizing the strokes at every curve and pull while she’s kissing you. 

“Do you have any idea how long she’s been wanting this?” Sakura questions, implicating you as she slaps your cock along Kazuha’s ass. “You’ve told me before: she’s made for you.” 

Utterly speechless is what you are, but maybe you should say something to-

“Gotta fuck her sensless,” Sakura suggests, head perpendicular to yours while the cock in her hands starts to graze the surface of her ass, nudging the opening by just a teeny bit, a small preview of what’s to unfold. “That’s what she wants. What she needs. Isn’t that right, Zuha?” 

“Mhm.” Kazuha hums in agreement, a throaty moan to follow after Sakura gets both hands full of her ass, spreading her open. “All of it,” Kazuha murmurs, chest pulled inwards when you start to descend; the more you fall, the more faster the air expels out of her chest, with a shout thrown in - a last resort call of your name: “fuck, I, hngh, god.” 

You hold for a moment, pussy leaking by the second as she’s taking you fully, expanding to compensate for the girth. An enchanted feeling washes over your body, grabbing to whatever you can of Kazuha’s ass - holding, a still in this moment of time - and this was the only grace period you’ve given her much more than yourself, head falling back because her hips do this movement in your hands, and 

“For fuck’s sake,” you spit, because the suffocating tightness and heat surrounding your cock is one to be unbearable. The pins and needles of pleasure prick all over your nerves as the fine weight of Kazuha’s ass takes you in and out, until you’ve retreated from the impending chamber, pausing as your cock twitches. 

Then you drop the pin inside her, all the way. 

“Fuck!” Kazuha gasps, sewing her eyes shut. Her hands start to grip the sheets. 

There isn’t much time after for her to get used to this, as you start to drive into her more, fucking out every cry that you could suck out of her lips. Her ass does this little ripple effect with every slam, making her feel the thickness where it hurts, hugging your cock in all directions. It’s a gradual push from here on out, building your sense of rhythm again, just like how she was riding you earlier. 

“Finally,” Sakura breathes, kissing Kazuha’s ass cheek, getting her fingers buried on the curve, kneading, showing, and biting. 

The thrusts keep coming. One stroke and the next. Each one after is harder than the last. Your eyes are locked onto Sakura’s side profile, watching your cock disappear in the valley of Kazuha’s ass with every passing movement. Kazuha herself looks over her shoulder, a hand out reaching for something, maybe her thigh, hoping to spread herself even wider so that it’ll be easier for you to stretch her tight hole out. You could feel that she wants more, throwing her ass back to match her strokes with yours, the slaps becoming louder and louder, similar to the moans. 

“So fucking tight,” you grit, your vision loosing sharpness at the top layers. Sakura’s smiling into Kazuha’s sweaty skin. “Like, nobody else could have this but me. Shit-” 

“It’s not every day that you’re gaping a pretty girl’s ass.” Sakura says it excitedly, her head rocking along with the movement of Kazuha’s body in every slam. “Fucking her hole and opening up just for you. God, Kazu, can you believe this? He’s taking you so fucking well; I love the way he just fucks you, like that’s the only thing he’s meant to do. Just drop your pants whenever, and he’ll just take you right then and there- get you craving - over and over and over again, and it could be everything, if you just let him.” 

Kazuha claws deeper into the bedsheets, nearly tearing the fabric, Sakura’s face on Kazuha’s ass-cheek, closing her eyes to feel the motion more. 

Every inch of her body is washed with bliss, curdling in the layers beneath the skin, a form of want that could only, truly, be achieved by you. 

“Baby,” Sakura’s calling out to you this time, face flustered when you realize that she’s got a hand magnetized to the heat between her legs; fingers in its own cyclone, a paradigm of its own when she’s screwing in two, no-three digits inside her cunt, parting her folds in an identical fashion the way that your cock rips open Kazuha’s ass and fucking the lights out of her since that’s the primary reason why she’s connected to you, and Sakura even sit back and watch this unfold in front of her eyes, bear witness to you fucking her friend with every matching heartbeat to the claps, “She could be a heartbreaker for you, and you could fuck her ego until she finally knows her place, like the motherfucking slut that she is.” 

There’s no sense of control left in your bones anymore. All you just do is let Sakura’s words fill your ears as your fingers dig deeper into the firm cheeks of Kazuha, the warm embrace of oil trickling down the plugged-up, puckered ass as your cock picks up the dripping remnants. 

“I-” is what you make of a poor attempt from Kazuha, the vowel replaced with a flat-out gasp, since the irreplaceable feeling of power goes a little bit over the top of your head, a firm thrust to send the message instead as the fucked-out girl at the front of your thighs tumbles out a voice that’s wheezing and whining in croaks. “Fuck. Yes, fuck, fuck, babe.” 

Sakura doesn’t really say many words to you soon after, just mouthing yours, yours. She’s so yours. And even if you could describe the surreal feeling of bending a beautiful girl over across the canvas of your mattress and sheets, there’d probably be nothing else left to say from you. She’s just urging you to keep on trucking Kazuha’s ass, demanding that you’d fuck her until the wheelchair sitting in the dark corner of your closet proved to be a viable solution for her poor legs - when there’s all but that satiated with the proper fucking you’ve delivered. 

“Aw, you like it when she’s all fucked out for you, huh?” Sakura keeps on talking, smiling her heart away, paying no attention to the obscene sounds that Kazuha keeps letting out. You try to come up with a response to Sakura, but you’re lost at the letters caught in the back of your tongue, watching as Kazuha’s beautiful ass envelops all of your cock, balls lightly tapping her cunt when you’ve got it down to the hilt. The moans hit a hitch at the throat, only for it to be drowned out with the unrelenting thrusts into her tight ass and flushing your thighs with hers. 

A snap from one slow hit. Then another. You keep fucking in, one hand alternating between from the rounded end of Kazuha’s waist to her ass-cheek and the other buried into the messy locks of Sakura’s, holding her head in place as the grip around your cock burns across the surface, not failling to keep the pace consistent as it increases the more Kazuha’s walls smother your cock with ease. 

“-perfect,” Kazuha manages to say, the syllables tumbling on top of each other as her whines do this staccato format the more your thrusts chop up the sound. You’re driving your hips so up to the frontside that the ripples start to catch Sakura’s cheek, who’s still laughing when she hears Kazuha try to speak, fucked at the cock stabbing inside her for all that it’s worth. “Stretching me so good, baby, you’ve got it, yes, right there,” and that’s when you see her head fall to the pillow, screaming with all her might when you’ve brought her to the point which- 

“Don’t you dare fucking hide from me.” Sakura scowls, fist full of Kazuha’s hair, forcing her up. The arch in her back is deeper than before, giving you a little more space for you to take inside her ass, inching deeper. This wouldn’t be possible if it wasn’t for the wetness and pulsing throbs your cock emits when you bury yourself in, holding as the grip from her tight ass is something straight out of a mythical creation. “I want him to hear you. Use you. Lower your head again, and I swear to fuck-“

This happens on impulse, or maybe this was the one thought sitting in the back of your mind that couldn’t rest there any longer, pulling your cock out of Kazuha’s ass, finger, and thumb quickly to be wrapped around the base. You’ve got Sakura’s head in your hand still, dragging her across the dune of Kazuha’s cheek, closer to the head of your cock, and she takes the hint fully, lowering her jaw until her teeth pass the head, enveloping you, eyes fluttering shut, and humming out of surprise. 

“You talk too much,” you’re saying to Sakura, mouthful of your cock, tongue slipping and pulling with her head in the ways that she knows you’ve ascended from before. “I thought I had you up on the ropes earlier; guess I didn’t do much, but we can fix that later.” It’s incredibly difficult for you to not lose your insanity, transitioning from Kazuha’s tight ass and into the addicting heat of Sakura’s mouth, taking you past the halfway mark, head dipping past her soft palette and into the hollow of her throat, cheeks puffing and coughing up spit to soak the areas already covered from the wetness in Kazuha’s ass. “Fucking-” 

Sakura’s sharp inhale for air sends you in check, as her welled-up eyes watch your cock sink back into Kazuha’s ass, face crinkling when the tightness is a little hard to break into before you’re sliding back in and out with ease. 

So it just flows the way it goes. A turn-taking kind of structure you’ve established. You thrust inside Kazuha’s tight ass for a few strokes, pull yourself out, and nestle your cock into those pretty lips of Sakura’s. The pair of them humming in approval and giggling under their breaths as you take the fun for yourself, using one hole after the other. Kazuha’s face is riddled with sweat, the hot pink shade running across her cheeks. Sakura’s is also the same, welled-up tears as she holds herself down the hard line of your cock. 

These sluts. Your sluts. Many would’ve wished to be in your shoes. But you’re the lucky pick among the both of them. 

“My good girls,” you mumble, groaning as you up the takes in one tight ass and one pretty fucking mouth. “Could die like this every day, using you two like this. A fucking dream.” 

Sakura guides you back into the rim of Kazuha’s ass, hand posing as the makeshift pipe when your cockhead nudges back into her, groaning like crazy to the added pressure of her fingers and palm. Your body twinges a bit, gradually building up the slaps with every follow-through more quickly than the previous hit. 

“My, fuck- holy fuck-” 

“What’s the matter?” Sakura’s fast to assess the condition as Kazuha’s moans start to bounce around in every wall and corner in the room, watching as you keep fucking yourself into Kazuha and her ass, “Too much to handle? Oh god, you’re about to bust, aren’t you? Kazuha look, he’s going to cum again soon for you, baby.” 

You could probably hear the sirens calling within your head. Kazuha’s hips are moving on their own and not in line with yours. Tensing, tensing, then relaxing, and it flip-flops. You can see in the muscles and how they sort of cramp up per se, how her moans are a lot more vocal as to earlier, when you feel down her cunt and be surprised how she’s oozing in your fingers, her ass clenching around your cock, clinging.

And the brain overload to not blow it makes you pull out, flicking your cock up in the air as you watch the arch in Kazuha’s back deepen. Sakura’s got a palm full of the oil, slathering it nicely - hand coiling you where it feels right. 

“One more push,” Sakura pleads, resting her head down the midline of Kazuha’s back, both hands on her ass, spreading her open for you, “please, just for us.” 

So. 

You do as Sakura says, pressing your cockhead back into the soft coil of muscle, Kazuha’s body greatly accepting you - grabbing and stretching and inviting all of you. She’s buried her head back into the cushion, muffling the pained whines, pulling to the right so that the breathing is a bit easier to tolerate, and the rush soon after is a spell of your own. 

Sakura’s hands hold firm on the plush of her ass, pulling outward and pressing inward when you’ve sheathed yourself, the vice ten times tighter than what it already is. Kazuha’s ass clutches around the head of your cock, and with every pound that you dish out to her, the more audible the clashes of skin are. Your upper body is starting to buck forward, the lower half losing composure in the routine that it built for itself, Kazuha’s mouth is parted open just like Sakura's - mouthing - keep going, yes, fuck my ass, just like that, god, your cock, just need you to-

“Babes, I’m going-” 

That’s really all you say when you’re revealing your cock away from her ass, cumming all over her uncontrollably. 

Shots of white are painted over porcelain. Spent, slick, and messy porcelain. You’re trying to readjust the grip around your cock, pointing your tip inside the open hole of Kazuha, shooting a measly two or three spurts, hips trembling as she gets help from Sakura to hold her ass open for you.

Sakura, unfortunately, gets caught in the crossfire. Earring a few scattered streams of your release all over her face, some in her mouth, and plenty into her hair. 

“Mmmm,” breathes Sakura, tongue running across both upper and lower profiles of her lips, hooking the taste of you on her buds. Kazuha still has her face down, buried in the sheets, ass up, as she could legitimately not move a single muscle in her body after being wrecked for god knows how long. She’s softly sobbing into the pillowcase; bruises spread out across her skin, visible red prints highlighted on her cheeks, but she’s managed to calm down. The breathing is starting to stabilize. “Look at that: two loads from you this morning. You should be proud of yourself.” 

“Should’ve came inside my ass.” Kazuha suggests, finally letting her frame fall to the side as you and Sakura both observe the obvious drip of cum oozing out of her. “This doesn’t technically count, but I want a do-over.” 

You and Sakura both exchange this look with a singular eyebrow, a dragged-out grin soon to follow. “Such a slut for you.” Sakura observes. 

“That isn’t really new news to anyone.” 

-

Some hours later, things get slow. It’s the weekend, or the weekday? You’re too lost to put that setting back in your head, primarily because: 

“Can you guys keep it down?” Sakura asks loudly, not willing to turn her head around away from the TV when you bend your knees a bit and slip inside Kazuha’s cunt against the kitchen counter, hiking up one of your borrowed shirts you gave her to reveal the handprint still apparent on her ass. “I can’t watch the movie if I hear two horny rabbits getting it on behind me.” 

“Fuck you,” Kazuha rasps, mewling when you’ve buried yourself deep to the cornerstone of your cock. “If it were me, I wouldn’t have said no to getting some seconds.” She’s dipping her head down, hiding her face in the wavy locks of her hair, but you can tell her lips are parted when you’ve got a hand to her neck, pulling to flush her backside with your front. “God, yes-” 

“Don’t expect an apology from me,” you’re calling out to Sakura, who took it upon herself to finally twist and see you staring, the pumps inside Kazuha relaxed, and its own thing happening. And Kazuha’s not even moaning yet. “You only have to blame yourself for bringing a physical version of Aphrodite to the place.“ 

Sakura rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to the television. “That’s her little secret. I guess. And it’s not my fault that you fall for it every time.” 

The thing is, there isn’t really a secret to be said amongst the three of you. You’ve mapped them out to their little glances - the one quirk that gets them both going for something to follow. Dumb it down to a simple phone call or maybe a cantation laced in the words they whisper into your ear. Sakura’s right: you will fall for it.

Every. Single. Time. 

[prisonhannibal]

These are messages between me and my friend Nader @abdalsalam1990 on friday (1st of november 2024) after I asked about his day. Screenshots posted with permission from Nader, so that he can share in his words what he’s going through. Thankfully he told me the bombings calmed down a little on saturday, and they were able to stay. But Nader’s family has already been displaced nine times, and it could happen again at any time. They urgently need to get out of Gaza when the border opens because his father Ahmed has cancer and needs treatment outside of Gaza, and his niece, Iman, who’s only one year old is suffering from malnutrition. Can you even imagine how terrifying it is that the funds you’re saving up for evacuation once the border opens again are the same ones you have to spend to even survive that long?

While fearing for their lives from heavy bombings, Nader and his family still have to worry about the cost of transportation to be able to evacuate. Prices are sky high in gaza, for example a kilo of tomatoes costs €40. On top of that, it’s getting colder fast. The family doesn’t have adequate clothing or blankets and need to buy it. When you have the opportunity to help this family survive the winter and feed themselves until they’re finally able to get to safety, when you can relieve their stress about money in a war zone, why wouldn’t you?

Please help Nader’s family. If you can’t donate, listening to his story and sharing it will help it reach the people who can. I’ve been in daily contact with him for a month now, and Nader works so hard every day to get help for his family, please make sure he knows that the world hasn’t forgotten them and that people are still listening and care. It will give him and his family the hope and motivation to continue this work. No one should have to do this to survive, especially not a seventeen year old boy. Your donation can help take this weight off his shoulders so that he can pursue his hope and dreams of going to university and so he can finally sleep safely without the sound of bombs all night.

This campaign is number 4 on this spreadsheet.

€30,180 raised out of €50,000, we are so so close to the short term goal of €33,000, they need only €2,820 to be two thirds to their goal. Will you donate to help this family survive and get to safety? ❤️🇵🇸

Can you join me and match my donation of €15? ❤️ every donation makes a difference, even if it’s less than that it matters

Donate here

tagging for reach

@tamamita @butchniqabi @finalgirlabigailhobbs @darthteeth @biconicfinn @dirhwangdaseul @serial-unaliver @socalgal @autisticmudkip @neechees @pikslasrce @dlxxv-vetted-donations @2spirit-0spoons @femmefitz @feluka @anneemay @loumandivorce @cuntylouis @vampiricvenus @heritageposts

[jayschaconne]

CLOSED DISTANCE | Nishimura Riki

summary : your long distance boyfriend niki shows up at your door, surprising you on your week off.

warnings : sexually suggestive themes, making out (?), both reader and niki are extremely touch starved of one another.

a/n: wrote this short blurb because i needed to write about my fav boy <3

…

It was 7 pm on a Friday evening. You had winded down for the day, already having gotten work out the way for at least a week. This was your second day off, time had been going by so slow.

There was nothing you felt like doing except visiting your boyfriend Niki. But it wasn’t a holiday you’d gotten off. If you had at least one more week, you could fly out to see him. But if you tried going now, there would be only 3-4 days you could actually spend having fun.

Jet-lag always hit you in huge waves. On the day you’d land, you’d be too exhausted to greet him the way you usually did.

The last time you’d seen him was last month. It was one of the best weeks of your entire life. Niki was such a romantic. He’d welcomed you so fondly. The bed sheets were changed to silk ones. His new duvet was decorated with white lace.

Vases filled with your favourite flowers, marble floors with rose petals galore. He’d walked you inside, letting you take it all in before he asked permission to finally kiss you. He’d made such sweet, sweet love to you that night. It was all coming back to you so vividly.

The drapes being shut all the way, only the golden, luminescent lamps guiding both your vision. But as he hovered above you, all your vision needed was to get a look at those eyes. Those lips, the ones you couldn’t have kissed everyday, but every time they met yours, a million things were said between you two.

His touch, so intoxicating, getting you drunk on his love as time passed and you ached for it even more.

You lie on your bed, letting the background noise from a crappy TV show consume your mind. Thinking about Niki was making you feel so helpless. You couldn’t even call him. He was probably asleep.

Just then, a soft knock on your door had broke your train of thought. You first felt like you’d dreamed it, but then heard it again.

“Hold on,” you yawned, sluggishly walking over to the door.

The door had swung open, revealing a bashful and cheery Niki, holding your favourite kind of roses in his hands. His bag was slung over his shoulder, hair fluffy, all in disarray.

“Hey baby,” he sighed at the sight of you. His smile was so bright it made your heart ache. You gave him room to walk in.

“Niki, love,” you laughed, but almost cried. The boquet of flowers had fallen out his hands, his bag as well, as Niki picked you up, letting you soak into his embrace. His arms held you so close, so tight, almost as if he was scared you’d somehow slip out of his hold.

You looked up at him, tracing his lips. “I missed you so much, baby.”

“I missed you so much more,” he whispered, kissing you so sweetly afterwards, you felt yourself melt in his hold. His hands remained on you, making up for how long you both had been starved of each other’s touch.

He shut the door by letting his back give it one little shove. Your hands were all up in his hair, gently pulling on those strands that had grown much longer than before. Little grunts left him as he felt each tug, pulling you closer towards him by letting his hand hold the back of your head.

The wet sounds of both your lips locking in such urgency had been the only thing you could hear besides how gasps left the two of you with each pull in between.

He walked you over to your bedroom, lying you down and peering down at you.

“I needed to feel these lips. It’s been too long without them.” He confessed in a whisper, while his thumb traced your bottom lip.

You couldn’t help but give it a small kiss. Everything about him made you want to forget what normal was like. If you felt like kissing his hands, you did. You desired him so much it was hard not to act on every little feeling he brought you.

Niki looked at you with his usual, heartthrob eyes, watching you intently as you took his thumb in your mouth, keeping your eyes on him.

But there was something so loving about his gaze. How he looked at you, it was like he couldn’t believe that you were there. He’d came all the way here to see the one he loved, and now she was in his arms. Finally. After a prolonged period of waiting to touch you again, feeling that empty gap grow deeper with the distance between you two, he was feeling it fill back up again.

“Baby,” he cooed. “I love you.” He brought your hands up to his lips, kissing your fingertips one by one. He repetitively kissed them, wanting to express as much as he could in all the time he had left. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Niki.” You let your fingers stay on his lips, watching him as you separated them.

Niki’s eyes had once again watched your every move, but this time, he seemed to be in a state of devastation, almost like he believed you were too good to be true. To be lying right in front of him.

His brows knit together at the feeling. Niki was melting into your touch, shutting his eyes as he felt your fingers graze his teeth.

Your other hand pulled him closer by the neck. He fell almost immediately towards you. Now your faces were separated by only a few inches.

“Do you know how you make me feel?” You closed your eyes momentarily, sighing as you relished it.

“How?” He was eager to know. The usual look in his eyes when he’d become needy.

“Like a a dam that breaks as each wave of emotion hits.”

Niki lightly quivered under your touch, kissing your hands, leading up to your arms, all the way to the side of your neck.

You smiled, not being able to decipher this feeling. What was it he was doing to you? The distance put between the two of you had just deepened your love for each other.

Every other day, this craving had worsened. There was so much left unsaid, all due to how distance kept you apart. So much that had to be said in all the little time you had left together.

You tugged on the collar of his windbreaker. And words didn’t have to be spoken for that.

Niki pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the skin you’d missed feeling the warmth of.

His arms, they’d looked so much more defined than before. You reached out to touch them, trace each beautifully sculpted bone, as he’d already been kissing your neck.

Your hands roamed from place to place. First his chest, then his stomach, his back, his shoulders. All the while Niki let you, still fixated on savouring as much as he could of you.

“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered into his hair, letting your eyes shut, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He continued to kiss you as you still marvelled at the feeling of how he’d belonged to you. Letting the closed distance between you two consume you completely.

[thewulf]

A Little Jealous || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - I was hoping if I could get one with Jake Seresin x reader where they're very close to each other and flirt with each other all day and makes everyone sick with their shenanigans but they secretly pine for each other... Read Rest Here

A/N: Good old miscommunication trope :) I love writing Jake. Keep on sending these amazing requests in and lmk what you think below! TY for the request @stuffingbuttsandshit

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 3.3k +

“You’re being dumb, and you know it.” Natasha rolled her eyes before turning back to the traffic light the two of you were stopped at, heading towards the Hard Deck. Your usual Friday night hangout spot after yet another grueling training session with Maverick. He was kicking all of your sorry asses right into shape.

Leaning back into the seat you refused to look at her instead keeping your eyes trained out the window, “He doesn’t like me like that. He’s not a relationship guy Nat. He’s said it a hundred damn times. Why would I be any different?” Sighing in frustration Nat noticed you toying with the hem of your shirt, a nervous habit she picked up on after only you for a short while.

“Because you’re you? He told me yesterday how much he likes you.” She sighed in annoyance as she kept her eyes on the road even though she wanted to slap some sense into you. She often had to restrain herself from quite literally beating you up sometimes.

“As a friend! He likes me as a friend you doofus.” You added on knowing he couldn’t possibly return the feelings you had for him.

She scoffed while very visibly rolling her eyes at you, “Can’t believe you called me a doofus you dork.” She sighed before letting you continue the conversation, “Listen, all the two of you do is flirt. He’s constantly staring at you when you aren’t eye fucking him right on back. I haven’t seen two people get along so easily before in this line of work. Might as well embrace what you have while you have a chance.”

“Whatever. I’ll talk to him tonight.” You didn’t want to admit defeat, but you were growing rather tired of going back and forth with her on it. If there was one thing she was it was adamant, and this was the only way to get her to be quiet about it.

Her eyes lit up almost as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing from your mouth, “Really?”

“Yeah, yeah. If it comes up naturally I will.” You nodded your head thankful she was pulling into the bar already. There was a reason everybody from base went here after work, it was close. And you couldn’t be more thankful to be out of the car away from her prying eyes.

She shut the car off turning back to you, “Good enough for me. Now go in there and get your man.” She smirked knowing it’d set you off. She was right of course.

“Not my man.” You grumbled before happily hopping out of her car that was suffocating with her pressing you on the topic of Lieutenant Jake Seresin.

Of course, you’d love to take the next step with him. You practically threw yourself at the guy every time you hung out with him. But he never seemed to take your advances for what they were. Maybe you weren’t forward enough? Or maybe he just wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. You shuddered at that thought. He’d eventually be a relationship kind of guy. When he wanted to be. Why couldn’t it be with you?

When you walked through the front door and over to your usual spot you didn’t spot him right away. Instead, you spotted Bob and Rooster in the corner chatting away about something intently. Sitting down next to them you waited for their conversation to conclude before interrupting them.

“Hey Y/N.” Bob acknowledged you after a minute. You didn’t mind. Your eyes were busy scanning for Jake. Much to your annoyance you didn’t see him. Was he not here yet? That’d be off, he always beat you to the bar. Always saved a seat for you.

“Hey guys.” You nodded at the both of them with distraction written all over your face.

Rooster smiled over at you knowing exactly who you were looking for, “He’s on the other side of the bar with a friend.”

“Who is?” You couldn’t hide the blush that appeared out of thin air just at the thought of Jake. Were you really that easy to read?

“Hangman.” Rooster leaned forward challenging you, “The guy you’ve been looking for since you walked in.” Bob couldn’t help the small laugh that came from his friends joke.

“I have not.” Your eyes looked everywhere but his.

Bradley laughed, “Sure. Go on then. Go get a drink or something. Definitely don’t go looking for Jake or anything.”

You stook quickly, gracious of his out, “Am I that bad of company?” You mocked offence.

“Hardly.” He smiled shaking his head at your usual antics. Rooster had come to like you quite a bit. You were sharp as a tack, deadly in the air and kinder than they usually came. He’d be a fool not to befriend you. An asset he knew he’d need in the future, “It’s our company I fear that is not nearly riveting enough for you.”

You giggled shaking your head at him, “You’re something else Roos.” Before he could reply you walked over to the bar ordering a drink but also looking for the man who’d taken your heart so effortlessly.

When your eyes scanned the other side of the bar your heart nearly stopped when you finally spotted the guy you’d been looking for. He was sitting there talking, no laughing, with a beautiful blonde woman. Your mouth ran dry as your heart rate picked up at a rapid pace. She was absolutely breathtaking. Far, far more beautiful than you could ever hope to even come close to. If he was chatting her up so easily then how in the hell did you ever think you stood chance with man? Nat was right. You were just you.

You’d let Nat’s words get to your head and get yourself into thinking he’d actually want you. How could you have been so damn stupid? Your eyes watched them carefully as they both seemed overjoyed to be in such an intense conversation going on.

It was Penny who knocked you out of the longing stare that had your thoughts consumed so entirely, “Drink?” She asked.

“Uh, actually I’m alright. Thanks Pen.” You waved her off not wanting to get stuck here longer than you wanted.

She gave you a confused looked before turning away back to her paying customers. You walked out in a half daze thinking about the pretty blonde woman who had captured Jake’s attention whole so easily. You’d managed to avoid everybody on your way out including your ever so nosy friend. You decided to walk home, it was only about a half mile back to your apartment. You’d done it a hundred times before. You were just usually a little drunk and not so heartbroken.

In your mind it was best to simply turn your phone to silent and flip it over while you watched reruns of your favorite shows once you got home. You’d decided it was best to throw yourself a little mini pity party mourning a relationship that’d never be. So that’s exactly what you did. Ignored your phone and watched television. That was your first mistake. Your second was ignoring the knocks on the door. Instead, you turned the TV up just a little louder pretending you couldn’t hear it. Once the heavy banging on the door commenced you knew you could no longer ignore it.

You flung the door open in irritation not knowing who exactly it was but assuming it was Nat, “Would you quiet down? You’re going to get me in trouble…” The words stopped dead in your mouth as you observed Jake on the other side of the door and not Nat. Jake. Shit.

“You didn’t answer my texts.” He frowned giving you a once over scan that you would’ve missed if your eyes weren’t so trained on his. He was checking to make sure you were physically fine. You knew that.

“I turned my phone on silent. Wanted a night to myself.” You answered him before continuing with your own question, “What are you doing here?”

“Or my calls. You ignored my calls.” His frown deepened as he scanned your apartment behind you now. What was he looking for?

You sighed now, getting a little frustrated with his seemingly impromptu visit, “I told you. My phone is on silent in another room.”

That snapped him out of whatever he was doing. You usually didn’t have such a hostile tone with him. Everything with you was usually so gentle. The hostility was left for the skies, “Why? Why weren’t you at the Hard Deck tonight? Nat said you came in with her?” He looked so confused, almost hurt?

You nodded, “I did. I just felt, unwell.” It wasn’t an outright lie. Seeing Jake with that beautiful blonde woman made you more nauseous than you’d like to admit.

“Oh okay.” He frowned giving you another once over, “Are you alright?” He took a step to the side looking almost bashful. Not as confident as he normally came off. It was odd to see him so out of sorts. What was the reason? Surely it couldn’t have been you.

You took a moment to contemplate his question. You were fine, certainly. Just a little devastated for something that would never occur. A future you yearned for that would never begin. But you were fine.

“I’m alright. Why are you here Jake?” You asked once more not stepping away from the front door. Not letting him in but not shooing him away either. You’d usually let him waltz through without a worry, but something was stopping you.

“To check in. I got worried when you wouldn’t answer. You always do.” He answered without a beat. He didn’t look l

“Oh.” You nodded at him. That was kind. That was very much like him, “Sorry to make you stop by.”

He shook his head, “It’s alright.” He kept looking you over. You were playing with the hem of your shirt again. Things were awkward. Uncomfortable. You were nervous and he wasn’t saying what he wanted. Unsure of what to say you just looked down. Not ending the conversation but not making it move forward either.

“Well, goodnight.” You said after a few moments of painful silence. There wasn’t usually this much tension between the two of you. It felt wrong. There was never usually such an air of awkwardness such as there was now.

“No, wait.” He put his hand on the doorframe so you couldn’t shut the door. Not that you were planning to shut it in his face, “Is everything alright Y/N? I don’t… I don’t know what happened or what I did.” He paused giving you a genuine look of confusion and concern. A look you weren’t terribly familiar with from the man.

He was right. How would he know? You were being weird and secretive. And now that you knew he was probably dating that girl you couldn’t air out your love to him. That’d just ruin the friendship you’d grown to love with him.

So instead, you had to deflect a bit, “I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

He turned his head in confusion at that, “Pardon?”

“Uh,” Might as well spit out some of the truth, “Tonight. Was going to tell you I was heading home but then I saw you talking to the woman. She was pretty.” You added the last sentence in almost silence hoping he couldn’t detect the jealousy radiating from your body. It wasn’t easy to hide, no.

He crinkled his eyes together, “Who?”

Was he playing dumb? Could the interaction have been so minute that he didn’t even recognize just how gorgeous the woman was? You bit the inside of your mouth to hide your dissatisfied frown, “The blonde woman you were talking to in the booth?”

He cocked his head to the side. First a wave of confusion crossed his face then recognition of the interaction must’ve crossed as his once confused face turned to realization, “You mean Amy?” His smile turned to a knowing smirk once he put two and two together. Jake was anything but dumb. In fact, he was quite intelligent. It hit him as to why your mood would have turned so sour towards him so quickly.

“Amy?” You asked playing right into his hand. He had you now and you didn’t even know it.

He nodded leaning onto the side of the apartment building, “Yup. She was my commanding officer back in Virginia. We were catching up for a moment.” He nodded his head watching you as he reveled in your realization of who he chatting with. He also knew how pretty she was. Jake had thought so since the moment he had laid eyes on her all those years ago. There was a slight problem though, she wasn’t exactly into men. And she wasn’t afraid to let those around her know it. Apparently, you hadn’t picked up on it though. And Jake decided he’d tease you about it for a bit.

“Oh.” You said again as you took a step back while crossing your arms over your chest. It wasn’t exactly an invitation inside the apartment, but it wasn’t not either. Jakes eyebrows quirked up quickly as he realized he was getting somewhere with you. It was cute. You were jealous. You’d been so good at hiding any emotion he wasn’t sure if you actually liked him back. Nat had assured him that you did, and you were just afraid at showing it. Afraid of the consequences once you dove headfirst in. But this was a sign, albeit a small one.

He bobbed his head up and down while taking a small step forward, “Oh indeed.” He gave you a wry smile as his eyes traced over your face, “She was just telling me about how she and her wife were looking at adopting once they get settled out here.”

Your eyes rose in recognition of what he had told you, “Her wife?”

He took another small step forward, shrinking the already small space between the two of you, “Of three years. I was invited to the wedding. It was nice.” He grinned knowing he had you now. Your little outburst and show looked a little silly. He knew you felt embarrassed because he knew you. He adored you. He had begun to love you.

You looked down letting a small sigh of defeat out. You did feel embarrassed. Mortified actually. This is why you didn’t jump to conclusions. This right here. You stepped away from the door officially inviting him inside. He’d done nothing wrong. And even if he was flirting with a pretty blonde girl he would’ve done nothing wrong. You didn’t have any claim over him. Crap. You’d just made an unknowing mess of everything.

Jake didn’t hesitate at your invitation in. A sort of nonverbal apology he happily accepted. He sat down on the couch opposite of you giving you a smile, “You don’t look sick.” He said to you.

“I feel better.” You gave him a quick nod knowing your cheeks were beginning to flush right in front of him.

“Did your illness have anything to do with Amy?” He pressed deciding he wanted to cross the invisible line between the two of you tonight. Your acting out showed him just how much you actually did like him.

“No!” You were quick to answer, far too quick.

His little grin grew into that signature Jake smirk. The one that was often reflected at you in a much different light. Not like this. Not like he’d caught you doing something because he actually did.

“You sure about that?” He leaned so far froward you were sure he was trying to touch you now. Egg you on. Press your buttons. Cross the line. Maybe Nat wasn’t wrong? Maybe he did have feelings?

With wide eyes you shook your head, “No.”

He scooted over on the couch, so he was sitting next to you now. He reached out, placing a hand on your knee, “You seem… a little jealous?”

Your eyes were staring right at his hand that seemed to engulf your knee. You tried to answer him, really. But when you opened your mouth not a sound would come out. You shut your mouth in an instant before turning to him knowing he was right. You were a little jealous. But did you really have to admit it to him?

He leaned a bit closer to you, running his hand just a touch up your leg, before whispering in your ear, “For what it’s worth, I think it’s adorable that you’re a little jealous.”

Thankful for him giving you a little relief you finally found your words again, “You do?”

The smirk turned down into a soft smile as he saw the lack of confidence in your face. Had he not done enough to assure you of how he really felt? He’d thought he made it pretty obvious.

“I do. I think it’s really cute. Wanna know another little secret I’ve been keeping from you?” He asked you.

Your heart rate involuntarily picked up at that, “Yes.” It sounded more of a whisper than anything else. But you couldn’t quite help it. You were nervous. He made you terribly nervous.

“I think you’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever got to know.” He smiled watching your reaction. It was nice seeing you so expressive with him. You’d always been so cautious and reserved with him. Collected and calculated. But you no longer had to be. Not when he’d been so outright with it now.

“Now, I know you’re joking.” You laughed not so sure of his admission to you. But his face said otherwise.

“Have I lied to you before?” He asked knowing the answer was an easy no.

You shook your head in response, “No.”

He smiled softly moving his hand from your leg to your hand, “Why would I start now then?”

You gulped at the seriousness in his tone and through his expression. He wasn’t lying. He was out here admitting his feelings towards you. Damn. Nat was right. More than right. You were a fucking idiot.

Before you could stop the words that came out of your mouth you finally admitted to him how you’d been feeling, “I like you.”

He smile before capturing your face in his free hand, “A little jealousy always helps.” Brushing your lip with his thumb he studied your face intently, “I like you too. I like you more than you can even imagine.”

A breath of relief washed out of you as the words you’d been dying to hear left his lips, “That’s good to hear.”

He started laughing. A good old hearty laugh that filled you with your own sense of joy and giggles, “Let me take you out on a real proper date darlin’?” He asked once the shared laughter between the two of you had died down.

You nodded quickly, breathlessly as you took in his lovestruck gaze, “I’d like that.”

His other hand joined him as he cupped your face in his embrace. You were truly vulnerable as hell to him, a position you’d tried to avoid from the get-go. But you couldn’t help it. You were falling for him, fast.

“You have no idea how bad I want to kiss you right now pretty girl.”

You leaned towards him without a second thought, “Then do it.”

He thought for a second before shaking his head, “Can’t kiss you without taking you out first darlin’.”

You bit your lip knowing it’d drive him past his breaking point, “Please? You don’t have to be a gentleman tonight.”

He groaned, tightening his embrace on your face as carefully as he could, “How can I say no when you ask like that?”

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem

[justaaveragereader]

Prey For Me

Pairing: Choi Jongho x Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Genre: Smut, Dom!Jongho, Sub Reader, Marriage Au

Warning⛔️: Dom/Sub, praise, unprotected sex(wrap it tf up!), manhandling, rough sex, fingering, possessive Jongho, marking, primal/prey play, oral (receiving), cream pie, cum play, spanking, choking, manhandling, mirror sex, if I missed anything let me know👀

nsfw & warnings under the cut - minors dni!!🔞

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh baby…You wanted to do this tonight? You really are spoiling me.” Jonghos voice echoed out through your shared home. You had brought up to him months ago that you wanted to try a new kink you had read about, primal play. Jongho in his day to day life was a soft hearted, sweet man, he was always good to you. Yet in the bedroom? It was a whole different ball game. Jongho would have you seeing the galaxy, that's how good he was. He was always so dominant and each time you’d love to push his buttons a little more and more. When you had brought up the idea to him, he immediately was on board.

These last couple of weeks for Jongho had been so busy, he was in and out of the office so much, working himself for the perfect life you both lived. He finally had a full weekend off and on Friday you wanted to try things out, which would take Jongho completely by surprise.

~

The house was pitch black, it was well past 10pm. Jongho entered his home, placing his suitcase on the ground. Flicking on the light switch he realized the whole house was dark, no lights were lit, nothing was on. The only light that was illuminating the house was the lightning outside, a hard roar of thunder cracked. He let a small smile grow on his face. He started to undo his tie, slowly walking further into his house, it was clear as day you cut off the fuse box just for this moment.

“Oh my love, you really do spoil me.” You heard him call out, his voice echoing in the home causing your cunt to clench, you could hear his leather shoes clack against the ground, the sounds echoing around you. Letting out a small chuckle, he started to unbutton his suit coat, you could clearly hear every unbutton being done. He was taking his time with you, the ball was in his yard and were you two going to play. You decided to stay hidden in the pantry. You could hear him but he was not in your sight, yet you knew he was coming close, like he was sniffing you out.

As each step grew closer, your cunt got wetter, he was stalking you out, waiting to pounce at the right moment.

“I can smell that sweet cunt from here. I know you are dripping wet for me already. Go ahead baby, rub on that pretty pussy for me.”

Biting your lip to suppress a moan, you knew you were dripping from the thrill of him finding you, searching for you, stalking you like you were his next meal, that alone had you ready to cum. Trying your best not to touch yourself you crush your legs together hoping to get some stimulation to hold you over til he finds you. His shoes echoing with each step, his stride was so confident, he knew he was going to find you and turn you out. You should’ve stretched prior to this because you know, you will not be walking tomorrow.

He stops right before the kitchen, suit jacket off, tie undone, his black button down, with two buttons undone at the top, that cocky smirk on his face, and his eyes that are glazed over, he looks feral yet so delicious. You hawk him down through the cracks in the pantry door, watching his every move, the air is thick with desire, thick with lust, thick with want.

“I’ll even give you a head start baby, I’ll count to five, so you can pick a new hiding spot.” He walks slowly around the island, shoes echoing with each step, your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest. You clutch your shorts, excitement tingling your spine. You hear him let out a small chuckle once more, he walks backwards, eyes drifting to the pantry door, a smile crept on his face as he exited the kitchen. Your hand slowly opened the pantry door, quietly trying to make a run for it, quickly trying to run out of the same exit Jongho had left from, darting to your bedroom. You quietly open the door, dashing inside. Stopping right before your bed frame when you notice his suit coat is laid out on it.

“My, my, my, what do we have here?” His husky voice echoed through the room. Causing you to freeze in place, your hands trembling with excitement. He got you exactly where he wanted you, falling right into his trap. Checkmate.

Slowly turning around you lock eyes with him. His body lax against the side of the door, his black button up unbuttoned right above his navel, belt undone, tie loose, and his head tilted back against the wall. His eyes were glazed over in feral desire, he didn’t even have to work hard for his meal to come to him.

You stood still, body slightly shaking, you made a move to the side of the bed, trying to place as much distance between the two of you. Clenching your thighs together as you move. Jongho studied your every movement like he was permanently burning it into his brain. He lets out a deep sigh, clearly enjoying this cat and mouse game.

“Baby, when I tell you I’m going to finger your pretty pussy till you cry for me to stop.” He lifts his body off the wall, eyes locking onto yours, taking small steps towards you.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard into the mattress all only thing you’ll know how to say is my name.” Your pussy clenches at his words. You bite your lip to keep in the moan that is threatening to escape. As he gets closer to you, you take a step back, he's creeping upon you like a tiger that is just waiting for the right moment to pounce.

“I’m going to cover you in marks so when you step outside people know who you belong to.” You back into the wall, you have nowhere to go, your eyes dart around looking for an escape. Shooting to the bedroom door. Just as you move your body to make a run for the door. Jongho speaks up..

“Don’t even think about it.” He grits out through his teeth.

You make a quick dart for the door before you can even get two feet off the ground. His hand shoots out wrapping around your throat, shoving you against the wall. You choke out a moan, his hand wrapping tightly around you. He brings his other hand up to play with the strings on your shorts before shoving his hand down your shorts, fingers grazing over your soaked panties.

“Oh baby…I’m about to ruin you.” He chuckles out, bringing his hand out of your shorts to suck the essence of you off of his fingers, tucking his head in between your neck, leaving wet kisses along your neck to your collarbone. Lifting you from the wall he walks with you carefully to the bed, dropping you on it, letting your body flop down. His eyes rake over you, he looks like he’s going to devour you in one swallow. Like he’s a starved man and you are his first meal, ever. His hands brush over your thighs lightly, causing your body to jerk. You are wound up so tightly that you are sure the first orgasm he brings you will have you seeing the milky way.

“Where should I even begin my little mouse?”

His hand comes up under your shorts sliding over your soaked panties again, he lets out a small groan. Hooking your panties he slowly drags them down along with your shorts, your wet cunt being on display for him. You let out a small whine at the feel of the cool air hitting your sopping cunt.

“Look at this pretty pussy. Is this all for me baby?”

He stares at your cunt like it’s a prized possession, likes it’s his treasure. Your cunt clenches around nothing as you buck your hips up. His fingers run over your puffy lips, soaked with your arousal.

“Jongho please touc-“

His hand swiftly comes down slapping your pussy, taking you by surprise you arch your back, the whine that means your mouth is damn near pornographic.

“Answer my question baby, don’t make me ask again.”

“Yes! Yes! Daddy it’s all for you, now please touch me.”

He plunges two of his thick fingers into you, causing you to let out a gasp, his fingers wiggle around in your cunt. Drawing them out slowly he slams them back in moving at a quick and skilled pace, the room already feels like it’s getting hotter. Your hand shoots down to grab his wrist, not wanting to cum just yet. He lightly slaps your hand away from him.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? I’m giving you what you want, baby.” He grabs you by the throat bringing you closer to his face, his two fingers still pistoning in and out of you. Pushing his lips softly against yours, you could taste the hard candies that he has in his office on his tongue, mouth as sweet as sugar. His tongue clashes with yours, the kiss heating up fast. He is soaking up the air from you with his lips, leaving you breathless. He slightly pulls away from your lips, a string of saliva still connecting you two, letting his tongue run over your bottom lip he nips at it, your head rolling back, toes beginning to curl, you are on the brink of an orgasm.

“You hear that baby? You hear how wet this pussy is for me? She’s been waiting for me to get home, hasn't she?” He chuckles out, fingers now slowing down, the tips of his fingers pushing right against that spongy spot in you, bringing his lips to your neck, he starts to suck bruises onto your neck, marking you for the whole world to see.

Drawing his fingers out he brings them up to your lips, letting your mouth open, you suck on his fingers, moaning at the tangy taste of yourself, your swore you heard a small growl leave him. Backing up he quickly unbuttons the rest of his shirt, leaving it wide open for you to rake your eyes over his well built chest, he had been attending the gym more with his colleague San and Yeosang and was it paying off.

“Get on the floor.” Scrambling off the bed as quickly as possible you kneel on the floor in front of him, pussy on display from the back in the mirror that he hung up purposely on the closet door, folds glistening as the lightning lights up the room, the sounds of the rain, and heavy breathing is all that’s floating in the room. He sits on the bed, you tuck yourself further in between his legs, your hands coming upon each of his thighs, nails slightly digging into the fabric of his pants.

“You are going to suck my cock like a good girl, and I might just let you cum.” Your eyes flicker from his face to his thick bulge in his pants, it looks like he’s going to burst through the seams at any moment. You undo his pants, shimmying them down his legs, your hands run over the muscles in his thighs, heavily hypnotized by the way they flex as your fingers sweep across his skin. His cock is red and oozing pre cum at the tip, standing hard and tall against his toned stomach. It sent a tingle down your skin to know that he was just as aroused as you were. You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out. While he gazes at you like you are the most precious thing in this world. He slightly strokes his cock, precum continuing to ooze out, smacking his cock into your tongue, rubbing his precum over your lips before smacking it down once again. The weight of his cock on your tongue had your mouth watering, you hadn’t even started sucking him off, yet your mouth was starting to drool. He slowly thrusts his cock into your mouth, sliding in and out slowly. He always enjoyed how quickly you submitted to him, how much that action showed you trusted him was enough to make him bust quickly.

Palming the top of your head he grabs the back of it, bringing your mouth down on his cock, his slow and steady thrusts had your cunt clenching with anticipation of getting stuffed. He lets out a groan, his head rolling back in pleasure, trying his best not to cum at the sight of you kneeling before him with your mouth happily stuffed with his cock.

“Touch that pussy for me baby, get her extra wet.”

He murmurs out. Rolling his head forward to look at your glistening cunt through the mirror he sees you spread your lips open, slipping two fingers inside of yourself, causing you to moan on his cock which almost sends him into an orgasm. His hips start to pick up pace, your fingers matching the rhythm at which his hips are moving. His grip on your neck is getting tighter, you know he’s close to cumming, you let out a long hum sending a vibration onto his cock, causing his hips to buck up once more. Bringing your slick coated hand up to his balls, giving them a firm rub, wanting him to reach his peak quicker. He slows his thrusting down, bringing your mouth all way down onto him, your nose brushes over his skin, trying your best to breath out of your nose, giving his balls a firm grasp once more, he groans, unloading right down your throat, not even giving you the chance to taste him. The warmth of him fills your stomach up. Letting go of your head, his arm braces his fall back on the bed. His eyes are screwed shut, his chest is moist with sweat.

His black button up clinging to his skin, with his pants around his ankles, the room thick with lust, and your want for him clouding the room. Kicking off his shoes and pants he scoots back on the bed, muscular legs spread, his dick still hard, and a gaze now set on you that says he wants to swallow you whole.

“Come on pretty girl, get up here.” He says while patting the open spot in between his legs, crawling up from the floor you settle in between his legs on the bed, while your body is slightly towering over him, you clearly can tell who has the upper hand here, who is truly the power of authority between the both of you. With his finger he motions for you to turn around. Your back now pressed to his chest, his hand pushes open your legs, your soaking cunt on display, your inner thighs are dripping with your arousal. His fingers brush over your navel, causing you to shutter.

“So responsive today my love, look at my pretty girl.” He kisses the side of your head.

“Look at how gorgeous you are, my love, and I barely have touched you.” He kisses along your jaw, leaving small bruises into your skin once again. One of his hands hook your legs over his own so you are fully spread eagle for him. His other hand danced along your pussy lips, so close to touching your clit but so far away. Your hips grind up.

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

You let out a small whine, trying to grind your pussy into his hand so you can get some friction.

“I want you, pleaseeee Jjong please touch me, I’ve waited all day for you.” He pauses from giving you hickies, smiling into your neck, breathing in your scent like he’s trying to permanently burn it into his brain. His fingers rub at your clit, taking you by surprise you let out a loud moan tossing your head back onto his shoulder.

“My god…” you whisper out quietly.

With his thumb on your clit rubbing slow circles his other fingers dance along your folds gathering all your juices up before plunging into your sopping hole, the squelching noises echoing the room, his fingers starting off with an immediate fast pace. Your hands try to find stable grounding by gripping the sheet. Biting your lip to try your best to keep your moans in, his fingers coming down hard while rubbing your clit.

“Look at me baby.” He groans out in a raspy tone, you tilt your head forward, locking eyes with him through the mirror, trying your best to keep your eyes open. The way his fingers are brushing along your spongy spot it has your toes curling in an instant. Your eyes screw shut as your body shutters and the feeling of an orgasm creeping.

“I said look at me baby, let me see those pretty eyes.” He whispers in your ear while kissing along the side of your face, trying your best to keep your eyes open, you grab his hand trying to slow his fingers down, his strength outmatches yours and he’s hammering away at your soaking cunt. His eyes locked on your every moment like he’s watching his dinner be prepared for him, like he’s a starved man who's getting ready to feast. Your moans getting louder and louder.

“Jongho, Jongho please, please!”

“Look at this pussy baby, look at the way she’s swallowing my fingers.” His thumb applies pressure to your clit causing the orgasm gates to break, arching your back off his chest, you cum with a curdling scream. Orgasm so powerful you are convinced you could power on the fuse box from that scream alone. His fingers come to slower pace, helping you ride out your orgasm. Placing soft kisses amongst your neck, sending you words of praise. Not evening getting a full second to breath he tosses you on your back, his muscular build towering over your body. When the lightning in the room illuminates, it catches a certain piece of jewelry, catching his eye. Letting his index finger run from under your knee down to your ankle, admiring the silver piece of jewelry that hung from it.

“Baby…You wore this just for me?”

He says through a groan, his finger now toying with the silver anklet that spelled out Choi. You wanted him to know you were his, and his only. Gripping one leg in each hand, folding you in half so your ankles hung by each one of his ears. He suddenly slammed his hips into you causing you to arch your back as far as you could, his sudden movements taking you by surprise. His moist lips come down to your ear, nipping at the lobe.

“You want me to wear your pretty legs as accessories? Is that what it is?”

He groans into your ear, your pussy clenches on him, with a mixture of his harsh thrusts and the squelching noises leaving you, you know you are on the brink of another orgasm already. Bringing his hand down to slap your ass, you are trying to ground yourself but the way he’s thrusting in and out of you, you might not make it to see tomorrow.

“Answer me, pretty girl.” He grits out through clenched teeth. You let out a whimper, arching your back so your clothed chest is flushed against his.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! I want you to wear me!” You scream out in a breathless tone. Eyes fluttering to the back of your skull. You are positive you can see your brain with how far back your eyes are. Letting that signature smirk take over his features, you hear the slight chuckle he makes. Bending your body further, your knees almost touching the mattress by your ears. The sudden shift in positions has you seeing fireworks. You claw at his arms trying to stutter out any sentence.

“Look at you, all pretty for me. You hear that baby? You hear that pussy making noises for me? Always such a wet cunt for me.

” Pushing both of your legs together so he can hold them in one hand while he brings his other hand to run over your sopping cunt, brushing lightly over your puffy clit sends you right over the edge, the pressure of his fat cock hitting your sweet spot along with his dirty talk pushes you past the tipping point.

“Jongho!!” You scream out, back arching, your nails dig into his arms, leaving angry red lines on his skin, that he will proudly wear around later. Cooing at you he lightly rubs your clit.

“Go on baby, make a mess for me.” He says in awe, he loved to see when you would break for him, it was like affection for him, love prickled at his skin when he’d see you fall apart. Removing his thumb from your clit, he paused his thrusting, letting you catch your breath, your body felt slick with sweat and cum. Your throat felt dry from all the moaning and screaming yet you knew this wasn’t the ending of what was yet to come. Slowly he pulls his cock out of you, causing you to let out a small whine at the loss of him in you. He swiftly brings a hand down, smacking your pussy, taking you completely by surprise, you let out a filthy moan.

He slaps his cum coated cock onto your pussy, the wet smacking sounds making you whimper, his cock head brushes over your clit, causing your body to jerk, you grip the sheets trying to move away from him. He catches you in a firm grip.

“Where do you think you are going baby?” He rasps out causing your eyes to roll back, this was going to be a very long night. Lining himself up with your hole he slowly slides in, you can feel every vein, every inch of his girth dragging along your wet, warm walls. You clench at the stimulation causing his hips to slightly jerk, his other hand coming down to grip your hand, lacing your fingers in his, reminding you in fact that you are his. Bringing your hand to his lips he places kiss on your knuckles. The twinkle in your eye that shined whenever he did such gestures. You felt your heart flood and your pussy get wetter, could you have been blessed with a more perfect man? Letting your hand go he shoves your legs back to your chest. He starts to slowly pick up pace, causing your body to move with each thrust, his hand snakes down into the shirt you never removed, flipping it up so he could see your breast jiggle with each movement. Letting out a groan at the sight, he brings his cool lips down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling on it, before moving to your other nipple and doing the same, salvia coating both of them, leaving hickies in between and on each breast before leaving a trail up to your collarbone, lips attaching to the front of your throat. His hips are swiftly moving in and out of you.

Your juices coating his inner thighs with a mixture of cum and arousal, he sits up grabbing your ankle with the anklet on it, placing kisses along skin that is around the jewelry.

“Look at you, covered in our cum, wearing our last name on your body.” He groans out, hand tightening on your hip, sure to leave bruises that you know you will love to trace your fingers over later.

“You like being Mrs. Choi, pretty girl? You like when people stare and see those marks on you?” He spits out, a moan getting caught in his throat before he continues..

“Because I love it, I love when I see your pretty ass walking into my work place, marks on display. Parading around in those marks that I gave you, letting everyone know you are mine.” His lips attach to your ankle, sucking a bruise right into the skin by your anklet, the sensation causes your legs to buckle, you try closing your legs but you are unsuccessful as his strength outweighs you once again.

“Such a pretty girl, my pretty girl.” He throws his head back chasing his high.

“My. Fucking. Pretty. Wife.” His hips smack hard into you with each punctuation of his sentence. Causing your hands to smack down to grip onto his thigh, his words fueling your next orgasm, tears of pre orgasmic bliss drip out of your eyes.

“Go on baby, let that pretty pussy cum on me baby, cum.” He bites out, placing your leg back down, pistoning his hips in and out of you, trying to make sure you reach your high again before he does. His thumb brushes your jaw before he pushes it down on your tongue. Your whole body jerks, back arching, toes curling, tears flowing, and a muffled scream leaves your mouth, just as you are at your peak your wet cunt clenches down on him throwing him into his own orgasm, he slams into you once more, grip on your hip bruising, as he releases inside of you. Your body slumps against the mattress, he braces himself above you, one arm holding him up, while the other lets go of your hip, rubbing small circles around it. Falling to his side with his cock plugging his cum in you.

The room falls into a peaceful quiet area, the pouring rain still being heard outside. His hand comes to rub soothing circles on your skin. Basking in the warmth of his chest and his presence. Bringing his hand down to run across your wet folds, collecting your mixture of cum on his fingers before bringing them to your lips. You open your mouth and take in the flavor, letting out a satisfied hum. His hips buck into your cunt.

“I hope you don’t think this night is over yet, pretty. We are just getting started.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Lemme tell y’all some…the lack of Jongho fics, Jongho content, all that shit got me ready to fight, bc why some of y’all doing my scrumdilly yum yum man like that? Like how do y’all not look at Jongho and go “I want that man to fold me like a pretzel!” Bc babyyyy I want him to bend me up like a Betty Spaghetty. Business Jongho makes me feral, Jongho in his regular suits make me feral, especially that one clip when he’s got that suit on with the sleeves rolled up and he’s stepping out of the car?!? With the thought of him being possessive to tie it all together?!? I hear some purrring🫣😀. Anywaysssss…hope you all enjoy me and my thirsty Jongho thoughts😚💙.

DO NOT REPOST.

[angelzarchive]

hi! I'm requesting again! I LOVED the spencer hcs! I am normal. you totally don't have to write this if you're not comfortable, but maybe something about spencer taking care of his s/o while she's menstruating? thank you. you're the coolest.

request: hi! I’m requesting again! I LOVED the spencer hcs! I am normal. you totally don’t have to write this if you’re not comfortable, but maybe something about spencer taking care of his s/o while she’s menstruating? thank you. you’re the coolest. / from the lovely @earspop! ahhh, thank you so much. you’re the sweetest :’) thank you for your requests, i’m genuinely having so much fun writing for spencer rn! and tmi, i was just on my period so imagining him looking after me menstruating totally works for me lol (no but fr, sooo so normal about this man 😳) <33

pairing: spencer agnew x afab! reader

warnings/ included content: reader gets their period (tw) but spencer is there to make it better. just fluffy content.

a/n: yayyy! another spencer fic, little bit of a short one this time. as always, if you see any errors or mistakes, please feel free to point them out. it’s not edited yet because i wanted to get it out quickly, so a little note if you see any would be greatly appreciated! if you have any requests you’d like to see, please leave them <3

there was nothing in this world that you hated more than getting your period.

you expected it, knew the reason you had been feeling shitty all week was because literal hell was creeping up on you.

at least now you had a reason to tell spencer as to why you had cried when he showed you a tiktok of two cats cuddling and said “us”.

but you weren’t happy at all, you never were around this time of the month.

what does help though, is having the sweetest boyfriend who is ready to drop everything to help you through it.

you were sure he was probably a little suspicious himself about when your period was next due.

luckily it fell on a friday, so you could just relax the first couple of days. which usually, you found were the most painful.

you had just finished showering when you heard spencer come home. you heard him leave his shoes and bags at the front door, slowly making his way through your apartment. “honey, you home?”

you called back weakly, letting him know you were in the bathroom. he knocked on the already open door, asking if it was okay for him to come in.

you agreed and his head appeared through the crack. his smile dropped slightly as he took in your red puffy eyes, which he could only assume was from you crying.

“is everything okay?” he asked as he quickly came closer to you, his arms reaching out to pull you into his chest.

you nodded glumly, “i got my period.”

“oh baby,” he cooed, his hand moving to stroke your wet hair. “not feeling too good?”

your shook your head.

“i think i know something that will cheer you up.” he pressed a kiss to your head, taking step back to look at you. “why don’t you get yourself comfortable then come meet me in the lounge?”

you nodded and he placed another kiss on your head.

he made his way to the door but stopped just before leaving, a cheeky smile on his face. “hey, at least we know your new birth control works.”

you knew he was trying to make light of the situation but you couldn’t stop yourself from throwing your face towel towards him. which, was obviously unsuccessful as he managed to dodge it. you shook your head at him, a smile on your face nonetheless, and he blew a kiss in your direction before closing the door.

by the time you had gotten changed into something comfy and came to the lounge room, spencer had managed to set everything up. he knew before he left for work this morning that he wanted to do something nice for you and he couldn’t have planned a better day.

you froze upon seeing the lounge. there he was laid on the sofa, waiting patiently for you to finish with a comforting smile.

your favourite food and snacks were laid out on the coffee table and the tv was ready to play your favourite movie.

god, this man was a dream.

“come here, baby.” he patted in between his legs, ushering you over. you couldn’t have moved faster. you laid in between his legs, your back pressed against his chest.

“spence, this is so sweet.” you pouted, looking up at him as he pressed play on your movie.

he pressed a kiss to your cheek, his arms wrapping around you in a hug. “anything for m’lady.”

his hands made their way to your stomach, massaging gently. “now relax and let me take care of you.”

and he definitely refuses to let you lift a muscle for the rest of the night. which is no problem for him, he loves to look after you.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

secret little rendevous-3*

Summary: The meeting with HR goes well (surprisingly). But, there's something else that'll break your heart soon, and Harry will be the one to crush it into pieces.

Words: 3k

Words: ANGST! ANGST! ANGST! There's a bit of smut too, but there's lot of fighting, swearing and degradation. and daddy kink.

(previous part here) | (series masterlist) | (main masterlist)

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Harry hadn’t always been so cold-hearted. He believed in true love and had always dreamed of finding his soulmate. But that all changed after one fateful night.

It was a regular Friday night and Harry was out with his friends at a local bar. He spotted a beautiful girl across the room and couldn't take his eyes off her. She was there with her friends, her short skirt riding up her legs everytime she moved on the dance floor.

Harry stared at her for long enough that one of her girlfriends approached him, saying it was a bachelorette party, and the girl he was eyeing was the bride.

Oh.

That should have stopped him from taking it any further, should’ve made him take his eyes off her, but he just couldn’t. He was mesmerized with the way she looked, the glow on her face, and with the tiara she had worn on her head, she looked like a goddess to him.

He mustered up the courage to approach her, when none of the other girls were nearby.

As the night went on, they grew closer and closer. They danced, they kissed, and before they knew it, they were back at Harry's place. They spent the whole night together, lost in each other's arms. It was magical.

At least for him.

It was a long night, full of kisses and making out and sex. The thought of her being engaged, and never being his was pushed into the back of his mind, and locked into a cage that he never intended to open.

So, the next morning, when she got up frantically, looking for her clothes through the house and stuffing them in a carry bag, pulling her dress on, Harry frowned.

“You’re-you’re leaving?” he asked, and she raised her eyebrows, suggesting how already obvious it was.

“Yeah, duh. What-do you expect me to stay?”

She brushed him off, and he picked his t-shirt from the floor, putting it on and sliding towards the edge of the bed, where she was getting dressed.

“Well-I-I-” she put her finger over his lips, shutting him up, “Shh, you know I’m engaged, right?”

“Well-”

“I know that you know I’m engaged. Marie told me as soon as she told you to back off. But I knew you would come for me, because well-” she finished dressing up, picking up the rest of her stuff, ready for the walk of shame.

“I could drive you home-”

“No, thanks”

Clearly, she didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. Last night was all she wanted, and it seemed like she regretted quite a lot.

“Okay, well-”

“Let me leave, Harry” she blurted out, and he closed his mouth, watching her go away.

Harry couldn't believe it. He had just spent the most amazing night with this girl, Natalia, and now she was leaving him. He watched as she walked away, her hair swaying with each step, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for her. He wanted to reach out and pull her back to him, to tell her to stay, but he knew he couldn't force her to do anything. So he just sat there, watching her disappear into the busy city streets.

For the next few days, Harry couldn't focus on anything else. He couldn't stop thinking about Natalia, replaying every moment they had shared together. He remembered the way her lips felt against his, the way her body fit perfectly into his, and the way she moaned his name in pleasure, as he made her cum multiple times. He couldn't shake off the feeling that she was the one for him, and he couldn't let her go without a fight.

So he did what any hopeless romantic would do, he tracked her down. He found out where she worked, and he waited for her outside her office. When she finally emerged, he approached her, determined to win her over.

“Hey,” he said, a nervous smile on his face. “I know this might seem crazy, but I can't stop thinking about you. I had the most amazing time with you the other night, and I just wanted to see you again.”

Natalia looked surprised to see him, but her face softened as she looked into his eyes. “Harry, I had a great time too, alright? But I don't think it's a good idea for us to see each other again.”

Harry's heart sank at her words, but he wasn't ready to give up just yet. “Can I at least take you out for dinner? Just one more time?”

Natalia hesitated, but eventually gave in. “Okay, just one dinner. But that's it. I’m done then”

Harry grinned, feeling a sense of hope rising in his chest. He took her to a fancy restaurant, where they shared a delicious meal and talked for hours. As the night went on, they both felt a strong connection between them, and before they knew it, they were back at Harry's apartment, tangled in each other's arms once again.

But as the sun rose the next morning, reality came crashing down, once again. Natalia had a husband, and she couldn't keep seeing Harry behind his back. She tearfully explained that she had been going through a rough patch with her husband and had been seeking comfort in the arms of another man. She knew it was wrong, and she couldn't continue to hurt her husband like this.

Harry was devastated. He always knew she was engaged, and had gotten married. But he couldn't deny his feelings for her. So he made a promise to himself that he would wait for her, that he would be there for her when she was ready to leave her husband.

Months went by, and Harry couldn't forget about Natalia. He tried to move on, to date other women, but no one compared to her. He couldn't bring himself to fall in love with anyone else, because deep down, he still hoped that Natalia would come back to him.

One day, he received a call from her. She was crying and begging him to meet her. He rushed to her side, only to find her in a state of panic. Her husband had found out about her affair, and he was furious. He had threatened to break off their engagement if Natalia didn't end things with Harry.

Natalia was torn. She loved Harry, but she couldn't lose her fiancé and the life they had built together. She tearfully told Harry that she had to go back to her husband, but promised to never forget him.

Harry was heartbroken, but he understood. He knew that Natalia had to make a difficult choice, and he couldn't force her to choose him. So he let her go, but he never stopped waiting for her.

Years went by, and Harry never fell in love again. He lived his life, but a part of him always belonged to Natalia. He never forgot about her, and he never stopped hoping that one day, she would come back to him.

.    .     .

At first, the prospect of being called daddy in bed was not appealing in the slightest for Harry. The thought made him uncomfortable, and the kink was never fully understood. He always knew the girls who would call him daddy had daddy issues, and it wasn’t one to feed onto it.

But since the day you had called him daddy, even if it was just because you had been in subspace, he couldn’t shake the way his mind was filled up with it. Your trembling voice, tear-stained cheeks as you asked him to take care of you, vulnerable and exposed, it awakened something in him he didn’t know existed. 

He now wanted you to call him daddy again, but only when he was balls deep inside you, fucking you so good, you can’t even think straight, and the word should flow out of your mind mindlessly.

So, here you were, spread out in front of him, his cock buried deep in your soaked cunt. Your nails were scratching down his back, his cock hitting places that had your mind turning into mush.

The HR meeting had gone well. Olivia was dismissed, because she had no proof of whatever she was accusing you of. And since you were in different departments, they had no issue with it, as long as it didn’t affect your performances at work.

Well, it didn’t.

You didn’t tell Harry the whole story, because you knew Olivia would. After the meeting, you had tried to call him too, but his line was busy.

Of course.

Olivia would’ve called him before you.

So, you left a text, calling him to your house tonight to hook up.

He replied about 10 minutes later, saying that he was working overtime tonight and then he had a doctor’s appointment, so he couldn’t do it tonight. That seemed genuine, because month end was approaching, and the workload was heavy. You replied in affirmative, and waited for the next day, when you could see him.

And now, here you were.

It wasn’t planned for–no. You had called him that once before, and it slipped from your mouth without a second thought.

“Fuck, daddy please.”

Harry’s mind went back immediately, his hips halting and he looked into your eyes immediately, bringing his mouth back up from where it was buried in your neck, biting and creating marks. 

“Say it again.” He breathed out, his belly tightening in anticipation as his dark green irises stared down at you.

You blinked in response, not realizing that you’d just said the word in bed, even though you both didn’t like it. 

“Har–Harry, I swear–I didn’t mean to-.”

“Say. It. Again.” Harry demanded, his hand snaking its way to your throat, lightly applying pressure to the base of your neck. “I won’t ask again. Say it.”

“Daddy.” You moaned, the grip on your neck dizzying. Harry felt more precum ooze out of his cock, and into your tight cunt, his cock twitching as the name fell from your pretty, swollen lips.

“Fuck, that’sit.” Harry groaned, pulling out his cock completely, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing. You whined, and he shushed you, before ramming it back into you with such force it sucked the air from your lungs. “Say it one more time, baby girl.”

“D-daddy, please.” You repeated, growing more confident with using the term. You threw your head back into the pillow behind you, biting your bottom lip as his started fucking you once again.

“You want to cum?” he asked, teasing you. He knew you were close, the tight grip your pussy had on his cock, and the way you were clenching and squeezing him, gave it away.

“Yes, please” you nodded, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes, it felt so fucking good. 

“Daddy, I need to cum,” you moaned, your voice becoming more desperate with each passing second. You could feel the pressure building in your core, ready to explode at any moment.

“Say please” he urged, beginning to rub your swollen clit.

“Oh-fuck!Daddy-daddy please?”

“Good girl. Cum for me. Soak me, baby”

And that you did. Gushed around his cock, wetting his cock and balls as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. He came too, pulling out and emptying his load on your stomach.

“God-fuck! Shit-” he cursed as he came, and you couldn’t help but watch in awe as his head threw back, pink lips parting as he gave you all he got.

He laid down beside you, catching his breath. 

“You’re so good for me” he mumbled afterwards, wiping the sweat off your forehead and kissing your cheek softly.

He went to the bathroom, to clean himself up, and bring you some toilet paper to wash his cum off.

And it was maybe by some cruel twist of fate that you decided to open Olivia's message from last night, exactly at that moment.

And it's everything you were scared of happening.

It says "Guess who he chose" with a picture of Harry's back attached below. He is lying naked on her bed, and probably asleep.

And you know it's Harry, because you would recognise those curls everywhere, plus you can see the fading nail marks on his back that you gave him weeks ago.

What the fuck?

Mr.I-don’t-do-stayovers was sleeping in her bed just after you saved his ass from being fired hours ago.

Great. Just fucking great.

When he emerged from the bathroom, you were already getting up. You wiped yourself clean with a stray napkin he had kept on his chair, throwing it near the trash bin.

“What-what are you doing-did you clean it up? I brought this-”

“Where were you last night?” you asked, voice stern.

“What-why would you ask that?”

“Answer the damn question, Harold. Where were you last night?”

“I told you, I was working overtime and I–I had an appointment–”

“Save your lies, you bastard–I know you were with Olivia last night. You were fucking her, and then you slept on her too. What else did you do with her that you can’t do with me? Do you kiss her while you fuck her too? Or is it just my lips that give you blue balls?”

“I-” 

It was like he wasn’t even trying. He wasn’t even trying to tell you that he didn’t treat you like shit, that he treated Olivia the same way he treated you.

“Or have you committed to her? Became her “boyfriend”?”

“You know I don’t do that stupid stuff. And I didn’t sleep, okay? I left after a while”

“Shut up. Just-shut up, okay? Stop lying. She sent me the message at 2am. And I know you’re blind and you don’t drive in the dark.”

“Alright-fine! I stayed over at hers, but that was it, okay? There’s nothing more”

“And what is it with me, then? I’m too, just a couple of holes you fuck when you get bored with another? Hm?”

“It’s not like that, okay? She told me how you dragged her into HR for sleeping with me and how she saved my ass, my job, so I–I had to give her something in return”

“What the fuck? That bitch didn’t save your ass, okay? I did. Why do you think they’ll listen to her? I was the superior one. And she was the one who went to HR to rant and cry over us.”

“Us?”

“Yeah. You and me sleeping together.”

“But she told me–”

“Well, she’s a fucking liar.”

You fell back on the bed, your head throbbing from all of it. How could she lie like that? Apparently, it didn’t matter that she did, because you knew he would go after her again.

You got back up, staring at him with eyes full of anger.

“Tell  me, Harry, who is better? Me or her.”

“What?”

“Tell me, me or her? So I can take myself out of this fuck-up you have created and find someone else who isn’t afraid to commit to me, and who doesn’t treat me like shit”

You yelled and once you finished yelling, your eyes were brimming with tears.

But you won’t cry. Not in front of him.

“There’s no fucking competition, Y/N. I’m not “choosing: anybody”

“So just choose her, then. I bet she feels better than me, doesn’t she? She takes you better down her throat too? I guess that’s the way to get you to stay loyal.

“I’m not fucking loyal to her—”

“Why? Why aren’t you fucking loyal–”

“I-love someone,” he confessed.

Your eyes widened. Harry, the cold-hearted moron, who can’t even commit to sleeping with one woman, loved someone?

And then he told you the story of Natalia, the girl who discarded him like trash, and somehow, that gave him the right to do the same to other women.

“If she came back to you, would you still go back to her?” you asked him, voice still shaking and broken.

He stayed quiet, his gaze to the floor.

“FUCKING ANSWER ME, HARRY!” you yelled, and he flinched. He had never seen you like this. You were always sweet and soft and polite to him, even after he treated you like shit most of the time. 

He still didn’t say anything, and you knew the answer. He never even thought of something other than sex with anyone. His heart was already full for her, it always had been. He never even thought of you twice, and here you were, catching feelings for him.

“You’re so full of shit. She used you and threw you away like you were nothing. When you had given her everything she needed to stay. And the first chance she got, she went back to him. She doesn’t love you. When will you realize that?”

You got up, walking to him and standing right in front of him.

“Tell me” you demanded once again. 

His voice shook, raspy, indicating he had shed a few tears, “I don’t-don’t want to. I don’t want to realize that, okay? She still loves me. And I’ll wait for her. No matter how long it takes”

You looked up, trying to stop the tears from falling. Your heart was broken, and he didn’t even seem to realize what he had done to you.

“Do I matter to you, Harry?! Do I mean anything to you?”

Still no answer.

“Great. Just fucking great. I am the one who has been with you for the last 4 months, even if it is just for sex. I am the one who got you the promotion so you could pay your fucking bills. I am the one who fought with HR so we could both keep our jobs. All that’s nothing? I did that for nothing! And that bitch, who couldn’t even stay committed to her own fiance. Slept with you once and your stupid heart is made up for her–”

He shot his eyes up, his fists clenching beside him in anger.

“Don’t you dare say anything about her” 

He looked angry, eyes red and jaw clenched.

“Fine. I’ll leave, then” 

You announced, wearing your clothes in a haste. Picking up your phone, your keys, your toothbrush and your spare clothes that were lying on the chair.

You walked out the room, going straight for the door. You were turning the doorknob when you heard him, “And delete my number from you damn phone”

“I never saved it,” you replied.

And it’s after you reach home that you break down into tears. 

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tell me if you like this! i wanted to end it here, but i know, it's too sad :(, and i know this isn't soo good! but read it, please, and tell me what you think! >.<

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[weird-is-life]

im so excited you've got some time to write!

i'd love to see spencer and reader having to cancel a holiday because of a case he's back late from, and him making up for it by planning a staycation? If that makes sense?

Hii lovely, ty for the request🥰!! Loved writing this. Warnings: fluff, kisses, use of pet names, (0.7k)

You've been so excited about the vacation with Spencer, and so has Spencer. You couldn't wait to get to the beach, and not have to worry about anything important. It would be just you and Spencer spending the much deserved time off alone together.

But as usually the criminals have other plans and the case Spencer works on goes on for longer than expected so you have no other choice, but to cancel the vacation.

Spencer apologises like crazy over the phone, he knows how excited you were about the vacation. But he can't leave the case, the team is already short on people, JJ home with sick boys, and Dave helping his daughter, and you understand .

That's why you aren't mad at Spencer, you know there's nothing he can do, and you knew what you were signing up for when you started dating him.

And even though Spencer knows you understand he still feels pretty bad. He rakes his mind for a solution, for something to make up for the cancellation as the team heads home, and it doesn't take him long to figure it out.

Emily gives the whole team four free days because the team's been working nonstop and everybody deserves some break. It gives Spencer the perfect opportunity to spend the time with you.

When Spencer comes home you greet him right at the door. You basically throw yourself around his neck, and kiss him all over his blushing face.

"I missed you, honey, "he tells you with affection. Spencer closes the door behind him, and at the same time he manages to give you a kiss, too.

"I missed you, Spencer. How was the flight home? Did you manage to get some sleep?" you question, while you play with the hair at the back of Spencer's head lovingly, and as you scan his face for any hint of tiredness.

You conclude he doesn't look tired just very handsome as always.

Spencer basically ignores both of your questions, and says, "I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" you smile at him, eyebrows up in question.

"Yes, c'mon." Spencer pulls you after him towards the living room so he can cuddle you on the couch (he really meant it when he said he'd missed you), and at the same time tell you all about the surprise.

"What's the big surprise? Come on Spencer, just tell me," you beg him while you make yourself comfortable with your legs over his thighs, hugging him tightly from the side.

"Okay, okay, sweetheart, " Spencer chuckles at you impatience, "so I know that you were very excited about the vacation, and I'm so sorry that we had to cancel it-"

"It's okay, Spence, I understand-"

"But it's not okay, yeah? I promised you vacation so you should get the vacation, sweetheart," Spencer smiles softly at you, "Emily gave us the Friday and the Weekend free so I was thinking...."

"Yeah?" you suddenly get very interested, giddy smile on your face.

"That maybe we could still get out of here for a few days. David's got this house by the lake just an hour from here, and he's happy to let us stay there if-if you would want to. The lake is cold, but there's a hot tub there, a-and it's very close to this small town. We could visit some coffee shops, too. So what do you say? Would that be okay?" Spencer unsurely asks you, and you find his uncertainty ridiculous.

You suddenly kiss him, happy as one can be. "Spence, of course I want to. That would be more than okay."

"Yeah?"

"Definitely Spencer. How did you think of this? This is maybe even better than the beach," you ask happily. Your excitement about the vacation back.

"Emily suggested it so we have her, and Dave, to thank for it. And really? Better than the beach? You're such a liar, you were too excited about the cocktails on the beach," Spencer teases you, and rightfully so. You really do think the beach is better, even though you love this new idea.

"Yeah, you're right, "you giggle, " but I love your new plan too Spencer. The only thing I care about is that I get to spend some time with you whether it's on the beach or by the lake, I don't mind where."

"Me too, baby," Spencer leans in to kiss you again, happy that you're happy.

He can't wait to spend the next few days with you. Just you and him, and no stress. The only thing he plans to do is to make you cuddle in the bed with him as long as you let him, before you'll want to actually explore the small town or try out the hot tub. Either way he knows he'll be content.

[macarthurpark]

accidental pregnancy with fordsie :3

since you've made your way back to gravity falls for the summer, you hadn't stopped looking at the long lost twin of Stanley, the rather reclusive man with streaks of both black and grey in his head and a stoic frown of focus always on his lips.

safe to say, after he'd accidentally pulled you against him due to a reaction between the necklace on your bosom, the bracelets on your wrists, and the metal attracting device in his hand during a day of experimentation in the forest, there wasn't much stopping you both from developing a deeper interest.

ford was somewhat reserved, you weren't-- you liked singing karaoke at greasy's every Friday, and he couldn't be caught dead even attending such an establishment without either his brother or great niece and nephew, and Stanley would have to buy him fries if he wanted his brother to stay longer than ten minutes.

all these differences mattered little when he'd offhandedly mentioned Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons in a conversation with Dipper in front of you. after one game and a passionate screaming match between the two of you that reverberated through the mystery shack's floorboards, it was clear that a match had been made by the gods. even ford found himself unable to let you go from his mind when fall arrived and your lease had run out.

so, after some passive aggressive encouragement from Mabel on her grunkle's behalf, you stayed in your little rental in town. you took up some shifts at the mystery shack (stanley offered, not only for the extra help and lower than legal minimum wage, but also to watch with popcorn as his Sixer would grow red and all eager to discuss his latest discovery with you), and sometimes you even spent the night in his room.

it was all friendly at first, him offering a bed after you two spent the evening after playing Dungeons after his studies; it was nothing more than a sleepover, he'd tell himself! his thoughts couldn't defy the fact that his body burned to even consider sleeping nearby someone nearly a third of his age, as beautiful as you were.

(how he wasn't sheepish by those green shorts he wore to sleep, you had no clue. at least you liked the look of them when he wore them in the mornings, his hair all mussed with sleep and his glasses resting lazy on his nose.)

his bed was a twin size, too small to share between two grown adults, and he'd usually offered to sleep on the floor if you stayed overnight, even as the infatuation between you two grew obvious. No matter how tightly he would hold you close as you cuddled or how hungrily he could kiss you if you accidentally helped him with a discovery, he refused to sleep in his own damned bed, just because you were there.

until one night, he'd gotten the hint when you refused to let him go as he tried to slip away and lay on the floor.

he really got the hint when you straddled him instead of returning the stiff 'goodnight' he gave you.

the poor man's glasses had fogged up as he was fucked into next week by you.

such was the life of ford for the next few months or so, and time even came where he'd felt jealous on the nights you weren't asleep next to him.

one evening came where you weren't with him, for he'd been too busy with his work to chat. it was no big deal, not for you-- you already had felt rather drained, so it would be a peaceful night in for once. you were excited to crack open a beer, and watch some old reruns of the golden girls, anyway.

as soon as you'd flicked off the bottle cap of the beer, your nose wrinkled-- was something in the fridge bad? did a animal shit right outside your damn front door? you sniffed around till you leaned close to the fresh beverage in your hand-- and you gagged violently before dropping the glass in a panic. now there was glass and beer all over your tile!

what the fuck just happened!

you'd thought the beer had somehow went bad with such a vile smell that emanated from it, and you'd plan to give stanley the rest of the twelve pack when you saw him the next day. whether he'd drink it himself or sell it off as some sort of evil potion, you didn't care.

you tried to move on after cleaning up the mess, making some popcorn and finding almost an exact same reaction-- except this time, you did end up puking into the bowl when your senses became overwhelmed with the scent and buttery taste all at once. the better question now showed itself-- what was going on with you? How had you suddenly lost all taste for the things you loved to consume?

Later that evening, you could only seethe as Stan cracked open and drank one of your precious beers with a healthy chug, an echoed belch following you through the hallways to Stanford's office so loudly that you couldn't help but get pissed off. what a waste of perfectly good beer on that old con!

you went to ford about your concerns, even he was confused by such a reaction-- so of course, now you were sitting on his desk as he scrutinized you heavily. you'd given samples of your nail trimmings and had your armpits examined, but you trusted that your eccentric older boyfriend knew what he was doing.

"there's no tautness of skin...hmm... your palate remains the same..." He was busy muttering to himself, ignoring any actual question you made to his low words, and he turned away to look through his drawers again. He paced around from desk to desk in his lab, but Ford was finally returning to stand before you after a few minutes of scrounging.

"it could very well be a leech or some bug from swimming in that putrid lake! If you'll allow me to obtain a full body scan, I'll check to see if all is in order."

With a raise of his hand, you could see Ford had brought out this weird device that looked more like a gun than anything from your perspective. of course you shrieked and tried to dodge the end of it that was pointed at you. "hey, hey hey HEY!"

Pausing with a confused stare, the poor man was more caught off guard than anything as he watched you flail and shriek, but he was resting the object aside as he tried to calm you down.

"heavens above, y/n! its a wireless X-ray gun! it's harmless, it cant even emit radiation! sit down!" his voice boomed, more annoyed that you would think he'd hurt you than being willing to calm your sudden shock. you sat back on the counter, more shaken than annoyed or fearful, and pondering quietly as he pointed the thing first at the top of your head-- he could see the results from his perspective as he scanned over the expanse of your form.

his brows furrowed once he passed over your head, neck and arms to see nothing. he murmured and cursed to himself one more, and you were more interested in how he'd made such a device like the one scanning you now. he slowly guided the gun down your midriff, frustrated that nothing seemed to be showing itself off out of the ordinary.

"I don't understand. Nothing is--" The very moment the machine trailed over your stomach and lower half, his hand paused, and Stanford's eyes got big.

It was small, but the eyes of a scientist like him knew when he was staring at a fetus or not. It was so little, so new, but it was resting serenely inside you.

by the gods, after the last thirty years of trekking dimensions and surviving battles against demons, how did the topic of his own fertility be the last thing on his mind whilst he had been pumping you full of seed almost weekly?

From your perspective, it was humorous to see his glasses slightly dramatize how big his stare became-- you found yourself panicked the longer he remained still and said nothing about what he was very clearly looking at inside you.

"Christ! Do I have an egg or something inside me?! Let me see, Ford!"

"NO! No, no, y-you're fine!" No longer lost in shock, he yanked back the x-ray gun as you reached out for it, more panicked than anything in that moment and already very sensitive about his inventions. Even as he reassured you all was well, the look on Stanford's face didn't seem to appease you. He was shocked at whatever he saw.

"You're not making me feel any better, Ford. Can you let me see the reading?"

"i... it cant capture an image, i-it just exposes what ever is in front of it."

Ford was still being too quiet for you to stand.

"Ford, you're being dramatic! If I'm fine, then what is with this weird silent treatment? What, is there a baby or something?" You try to laugh off his fearful gaze with your ironic statement, but Ford wasn't laughing with you. As a matter of fact, that stunned stare was turning in to something more soft at your words-- more of a puppy dog's pleading gaze.

"You... happen to have a more enlarged uterus than normal?"

you both stare at one another for a long minute. ford isn't uncomfortable with the news discovered by some awry invention of his, but he's watching you closely for any sense of negative response. he's slightly even praying that you'll just smile and give him a hug with the happy news.

you burst into tears, and ford is in panic to start hugging you close once its clear you're in need his support. you hold him close, getting his jacket wet with your tears, finally calming yourself into an unsteady silence that is more familiar to you two both.

You look up at him, and you smile.

Ford smiles back, and he can feel his heart grow so warm he thinks he might start bawling with you at any moment.

"If my assumptions are correct, we've got eight months to have Mabel plan the perfect baby shower."

[stupidr3dpanda]

I'm thinking of... BAKER!SIMON RILEY WITH A SMALL BAKERY/COFFEE SHOP!!

Who lives upstairs of the shop because it's more convenient and better than having to drive to the shop. Who wakes up every day at 5am to start the day with a warm cup of his favorite tea and heads downstairs to start preparing the ingredients, warming up the ovens and prepping doughs for that day.

From measuring ingredients, preparing his work station and organizing the tables and chairs in the shop to decorating cookies and small cakes! After 4 long hours of preparing everythig he gets ready to open the shop around 9am!

It's never too busy and never too slow, just enough for him to keep himself occupied, hes always good at memorizing his regulars orders after the first two times they come in.

Like the sweet old lady that always comes in every day at 11am sharp for a cup of earl grey and two Eclairs, always sits to enjoy the morning sun outside the shop and admire the overgrown climbing roses bushes that are starting to take over the right wall of the shop and half of the display window on the same side, she always recommends him a gardener that could help trim it down enough to make the shop look prettier at a good price, but he always forgets to call.

Or the always tired looking mom that comes in all Fridays around 2pm with her two little kids, always orders a double expresso for her and one strawberry smoothie with a banana muffin for each of the two boys, boys that normally would make a scene on every shop they go, except for Simons shop. She doesnt have to know that the reason they behave during their visit to the shop is because of a little conversation that simon had with the two kids when she wanted to use the bathroom ok their first visit. He's not having two little rascals ruin the quiet and peaceful atmosphere of his shop! Nope! Not on his watch!

And then, there's you, the quiet girl that comes in every business day at 5pm an hour before closing time, when the shop is always empty, always orders a simple latte and a slice of strawberry shortcake with a low and timid voice, who always avoids eye contact at all cost, and who always sits in the farder corner of the shop to eat quietly with a note book open on the table and a pen in hand.

He wonders what is it that you write so much about, is it the taste of the latte? The taste of the cake? Is the frosting too sweet today? Is the latte too bitter? Too sweet? Are you one of those girls that monitor everything they eat throughout the day? He's always trying to convince himself that he doesn't care! He shouldn't care! Who cares what you think! He doesn't what do you mean? He couldn't care a flying pig about you!!...

He does care, he wants to go up to you and ask what you think of the cake, did you enjoy your latte? Do you come here after work? What are you writing about? He feels like a teenager, a pathetic teenager with a stupid crush, he's dying to talk to you but. You're always turning down every attempt he makes of conversation, always keeping your answers short and simple. He supposes it's because you are timid or probably because you already have a boyfriend and are just trying to turn off any ideas he might have in his head. So he's just happy to admire you from afar, just a mere spectator to your life.

At 5:45pm he watches as you stand up from your table and starts walking to the exit, his heart sinking knowing the shop would be closed the next two days and he won't be able to see you. But he suppose he can wait.

At 6pm the "OPEN" sign on the front door of the shop is turned to "CLOSED" and the doors get locked up, he cleans the tables and chairs, heads to the kitchen to start cleaning and putting away equipment and any left over pastries and ingredients.

After everything is back under control at around 9pm with a tired sigh he heads back upstairs to start prepping dinner for himself, with a filled stomach and what's left of a beer in hand he sits on the couch while a crappy TV show is playing.

Once exhaustion starts taking over his body he turns off the TV and pets Riley's head on his way to the bathroom for a quick shower, after he's done he heads to his bedroom and changes into some comfortable pajamas, goes to the kitchen and grabs a glass of water to take his vitamins and finally heads back to his bedroom to lay in bed making sure his glasses are beside him on the little nightstand at the other side of his bed, turning off the light in the same nightstand he pulls the covers over his body and slowly drifts to a deep sleep with the image of you lulling him to sleep.

You give thanks to whoever God it may correspond for remembering to change his vitamins for sleeping pills, cause if not he would have been immediately woken up by the weird sound that comes out of your mouth after hitting your head on the window while trying to get in. You know you should be an expert at this point but that stupid window seems to have some kind of bef with you since day one!

As you make yourself inside the all familiar living room you crunch down to pat Riley on the head and give the dog one of those sweet dog treats from inside your bag. Hearing her make what you assume is a content sound while eating the treat you stand up and lay down on his couch and hug one of the decorative pillows on your side, his couch is comfy, but his bed is so much more comfortable.

You stay there for a few moments before standing up and walking down the hall to his bedroom, as you slowly open the door you see him gently snoring on his bed, so deep in slumber that he doesn't feel nor hears the noises your shoes make when you head towards his bathroom that's located in the same room, you look for his laundry basket and a small smile is painted on your face when you see it in the same spot behind the closet of the bathroom, you take out the hoodie he was wearing that same day and bring it to your nose taking a deep inhale of his essence, the sweat and cologne mixing itself in the said hoodie leave a sweet smell that makes your cunt clench round nothing, it's so intoxicating you can't help but bring your fingers down to the inside of your panties and make small circles around your poor clit.

Thinking what it would feel like if it were his fingers going in and out of your wet cunt, you think of what he would do if he were to catch you right now. Yell at you for being a creep? Call the police? Be disgusted you are satisfying yourself with his dirty clothes? Or perhaps, he would like. Tell you how dirty and pathetic you are, bend you over his knees with your ass and cunt exposed to the cold air of his room while he spanks the living hell out of you. Maybe finger you while he's at it? Always bringing you to the edge and never letting you cum, dirty sluts don't deserve to cum. Or maybe he would be understanding, oh you poor girl, if you wanted him to fuck you you could have just asked him to! No need to hide away and get off his dirty laundry and your little fingers when he's right here to give you the real thing!

Just that thought brings you to your sweet and needed release. You take your fingers out of you and for a moment you think of just washing your hands but another thought stops you and brings a smile to your face.

Once his hoodie is back in the basket you make your way to his bed, where he's sleeping like a newborn, innocently and unaware of the crime that just happened in his bathroom with his hoodie being the poor victim.

There's enough space in the bed for you to lay day beside him and the pills are strong enough to not have him wake up when your weight sinks in the mattress. His pillowcases smell like sweat and the pine spice of his shampoo, probably because he always goes to bed with his hair wet, his covers smell like old laundry and sweat too, they're already in need of a wash, last time he washed his bed linen was a month ago.

You scoop over until you're face to face with him and your eyes trace his all too familiar face, you bring your fingers to his lips and gently stroke his lower lip, remembering how soft his lips feel when you gently place your lips yo his. Your hand moves and the back of your fingers start to move slow circles on his right cheek, after that you just stay still watching him sleep peacefully until you yourself start to get tired that's always your cue to leave, not without giving him a last pick on his lips and standing up to leave.

As you make your way out you give one more treat to Riley and gentle pat on the head before looking around making sure everything is in its place like it was before and you leave through the same window you came in making sure not to hit your head again and to close it like it was.

In the afternoon of the next day when Simon is half way of doing chores around the house and while he's doing his laundry he finds his hoodie with some strange looking stains that weren't there the day before when he took his shower. Maybe he accidentally stained it while making dinner, perhaps when he was working decorating the cakes with the frosting? Yeah that's probably it, given that the strange looking stains smell a little strange almost sweetly. He just shrugs and throws it in the washer, he still has chores to finish and he's not about to play detective for a simple frosting stain.

Ughf! This thing has been invading my mind and I had to share the thought! I love pathetic and obsessed reader 👉👈

Let me know what you think! I hope you're having a good day/night and please remember to take care of yourself!!

[strangerhottotties]

Mad Sounds - E.M.

Summary: Eddie has ADHD and reader has a touch of the 'tism. Her ways of helping Eddie are... questionable... but effective.

Warnings: Ya'll already know this some horny shit. Minors fuck off. Surprisingly angsty.

A/N: I rise briefly from the dark with some cool rocks as an offering to my faithful followers. I sprinkle some moss at their feet and grunt randomly before shuffling back into my caverns of dwelling to recover from the minute amount of energy that I exerted. Unfortunately, this little goblin has metaphoric asthma and got out of breath from the short journey.

As Eddie's self appointed tutor, there was plenty of frustration. He wasn't stupid. That you reminded him constantly. "There is a difference between doing something stupid and being stupid," you have sighed heavily at him countless times.

He resisted it at first. It nearly ruined your friendship a few times, but you could see it. It wasn't like he didn't just not want to do the work. But he'd forget his textbooks or his homework in his locker.

You spent twice a week helping him organize his locker so he could spend less time during the school day retrieving his books. You'd gone as far as to pester the principal into switching your locker with Shelby Phillips so you could have the locker right next to his. (Eddie accused you of going to far with this, but the morning snacks you insisted on bringing him when he was still blinking sleep from his eyes seemed to make up for.)

Your methodology may be unconventional, but it proved effected after the first week when Eddie brought home two C's and a D+ on the end of the weeks' tests.

So he begrudgingly allowed you to continue to forcefully tutor him. And then two weeks in he started ditching. Unfortunately, Eddie for got your ridiculous stubborn streak. He hadn't seen the full potential of how painfully unyielding your resolve could be when the right scenario emerged.

"Nah, can't make it tonight, gotta do band practice." "Sorry, we're playing a gig." "Can't Hellfire's tonight." "No way, I need a night off."

Each day, frustration bled more and more into your week until Friday rolled up and Eddie had a big, fat 'F' smacked down on his desk in O'Donnell's class and he blew you off again. "Whatever," he scoffed as he dumped his books into his locker.

"You skipped every chance to study this week, Eddie," your tell him with a hard edge to your voice. It's a mix of frustration, hurt and genuine anger.

He shoots you an irritated look, slams his locker shut and leans into your face. You can smell him, almost like wet dog, in your face. The reek of cigarettes familiar and clinging to the shirt that should get washed soon. You think he wore it to bed because the scent curls around you - deep and musky and natural. Not like how boys smelled when they worked out and sweat. Somehow it doesn't smell bad.

You shift closer and from the right angle it might look romantic. But your eyes are burning into his with steel resistance. You aren't crumbling over the fact that he is way closer than comfortable. You aren't wavering under his intensity.

(Not that he'd ever tell you but it drove him crazy. Normally, people would shrink and squirm away under the right pressure. It usually brought him amusement that people feared him. That he could creep up their spines and over their skin. He preened at the idea that he left stick residue. He felt like poison, ruining everything he touched but it gave him space to do as he pleased. Until you. It was like you never even noticed that he was too close or touching you. He grabbed your thigh once, digging his finger tips in around the top of your knee, just to see you even smack his hand off of you... and you'd reacted as if he'd simply nudged you to get your attention.)

If you wanted to get to the other side of the mountain, you were going to go directly there. You were always dead set on yielding the mountain to you. You would drive through the mountain, and Eddie was insisting on flowing down stream instead of listening to you!

"What am I even supposed to do!" He snarls lowly at your furrowed brow and set jaw. You either never even looked at him, or burned through him with an intensity that nearly buckled his resolve. This time, you weren't even blinking. It was eerie how slow you were breathing. Deep and even. "Study every moment of everyday?"

"I'm not asking that of you!" You snap back. "I'm just asking for you to work with me! It's not just gonna fall in your lap! I'm trying to help!"

"I didn't ask for it." He states and feels like he's bashing his head into the wall. His hand rises into his hair line and he gives it a tug. "I'm done," he ends after a beat of silence when you said nothing. He turns and heads

"After school were cleaning your locker!"

"Done! D-O-N-E! Done!" He wanders off.

.....

Half an hour after school ended, you heaved a sigh and dropped you back pack down beside his locker. It was shut. He was no where in sight. You waited and then finally check the parking lot. His van was gone.

You could do better, you think. There's got to be some way, you think as you step up to the locker. 15-84-04. His locker swings open with a low whine. It was fine, you tell yourself when you question the morality behind breaking into his locker.

It's not like you were doing it to steal. Just to help your friend. You weren't hurting anything. It's a mess. Papers are crumbled and folded beneath textbooks. There's graffiti at the back of it.

You shuffle through it. Pluck out the half destroyed text books in a pile at the bottom of his locker and set them to the side. Papers are torn. There's mystery stains on some of his old papers from the beginning of the week. Uncompleted assignments, rubrics handed out for projects, crumpled notebooks.

He took nothing home for the weekend. A wave of shared defeat fills you. He gave up. You'd been there, crushed beneath its weight when you hadn't made many friends. People thought you were being mean when you were just being direct. You wanted to make friends, but you just never knew what to say.

It's why you wanted to help Eddie so much. Because he didn't care that you were the 'mean' valedictorian that only cared about grades. He was your friend. And you wanted to help him in any way possible.

You were nervous the whole way up until Wayne opened the door to the trailer. You blink up at him with the stack of text books in you arms. A bag of oranges on top. Wayne frowns in confusion.

"I think you have the wrong place, sweetheart." He called you by the same thing Eddie usually did, in the same way. It gave a warm stir to your chest.

With a deep breath, you begin, "Is Eddie home?" His eyebrows shoot up high on his face.

"Yeah, he is."

"He had a tough day and I'm his tutor. I wanted to bring by his homework for this weekend. We had a fight and I came to apologize." Wayne passes you a smile and motions for you to come in.

"The infamous tutor," he hums, chuckling.

"Eddie's talked about me?" You question. Wayne passes you an amused smile as you step across the threshold. Infamous was bad. He must really be mad at you.

"You bet." You steel your face as Wayne leads you across their living room to a hallway on the left. You feel like crying all of a sudden. He knocks on Eddie's door. His metal is muffled by the door.

"I've got pants on." With that, Wayne swings the door open as you second guess coming here briefly. Your lips and fingers are starting to tremble from the bubbling regret in your throat.

"Got a visitor, Kid." There's a shuffle of papers and Wayne gives you the space to slide through.

"Thanks," but your voice sounds small as you step in. Wayne gives you a warm smile as you pass him. Eddie's confusion sours as he sees you and it makes you want to vomit.

The room is pure chaos around him. "You've got to be kidding me." He heaves as the door shuts. "What the hell are you doing here?" Those words make your lip wobbles hard, beyond your control.

"I... I..." you drop your gaze to the carpet as the words come out in a whisper. "I brought everything you'd need for your weekend... homework." Your taking deep breaths to try to stop the cry but those tears are clouding your vision still.

"Woah, woah, woah," Eddie calls and scrambles of the chaos of papers, DnD books and other random items. He stops in front of you as you start to lose your nerve. "Are you gonna cry?" He asks. You shake your head furiously, trying to squeeze your eyes shut to stop the tears but it only makes them run over your cheeks. "Shit." He stops stiffly in front of you, regarding the entirety of you. "Why?" He manages to squeak. His face is wild with fear and confusion.

You sniff, whiping at your cheeks. "I sh-shouldn't have come here." You take your time so it doesn't come out a jumbled mess. His face crumbles and he steps forward to take the stack of books out of your hand and set it on a bunch of papers on the bed. The crinkling drives you crazy.

"I'm really not good with tears, okay?" He offers.

"Me either," you pipe back, still whipping at the ever flowing tears coming from your eyes with the heels of your hands.

'You gotta tell me why your upset."

"You're not really my friend, are you?" You manage through that wobbling look. Eddie looks devastated by your nasally question.

"What? Of course we're friends!"

"You're uncle says you've talked about me," you say and he goes ghost white. "He called me your infamous tutor. That's a bad thing, Eddie." Eddie's hand rakes through his hair, getting increasingly more stress "you don't actually like me do you?"

"That's what your worried about? If I like you?" Jesus," he grunts out and then throws his arms up. "I'm just pissed off about this tutoring thing. You're pushy about it, okay? We're friends still." You fold into him immediately, burying your face against his neck. He's rigid beneath you cling to him hard.

"I don't have a lot of friends," you whimper. "I know, I can be a lot but I'm really trying to be a good friend because you've been a really good friend to me." His edges soften for you and then all at once you're being crushed to his chest in a way that takes the anxiety right away. It rushes out of you as he hold you. His cheek pressing to the top of you head.

"We're friends." He affirms, hands brushing across your back. "And here I thought you didn't actually like me." You sniffle into his neck as he sways you both and it's almost hypnotic in it's effect. You find yourself pushing in to nuzzle his neck as he swallows.

"You give good hugs," you hum up to him.

"Hah, thanks," he grunts awkwardly and pats your shoulder until you pull back. You wipe your cheeks. "Now, did you just come here to bring me textbooks and cry?"

"No, I came to apologize, bring your homework and maybe come up with a plan."

"A plan? Fuck." He sighs. "Start with the apology first." You nod in affirmation, clearing your throat to tell him clearly. He heads to his bed and brushes enough papers away to sit on the edge of it to face you.

"Eddie, I'm sorry. I know you have other important things that you want. I can't expect you to conform to the ways I do things." His face flutters into a hard, unreadable look. You step forward kneeling and taking his hand like your mom always did when she was trying to make something up to you. "Too much change at once can overwhelm me so why wouldn't it overwhelm you. I just wanted to be as effective as I could but most people don't operate how I operate. I'm sorry for being pushy." Eddie looks really uncertain as he stays quiet for a moment. His gaze flickering between your hand and you.

"Wow." He reaches over and drags a pillow into his lap a moment later. "Cool. Great apology."

"Really? Or are you being sarcastic. I can't tell."

"Not sarcasm." He states. "Just tell me your plan?" You start to rise and he holds out his other hand to stop you. "Stay there. Tell me your plan."

"I wanted to brainstorm ways that might work for you. Maybe set aside a couple days a week you might be able to study. A schedule so you still have free time?" He sighs and glances down at his pillow before tossing it off to the side.

"Great. Sure." A smile breaks out on your face, eager to shift back onto your heels. "Are you free tomorrow?"

He arches an eyebrow.

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes, I have a few ideas."

"Like what?" He asks, threading his fingers into yours. It feels nice, holding his hand.

"Well, tonight I figure we switch roles."

"Excuse me?" He demands.

"You teach me something."

"Teach you what? You already are valedictorian."

"I was thinking maybe D'n'D?" His brows shoot into his hairline. "That or guitar?" Eddie blinks. "Obviously a rudimentary part of those things."

"I don't understand the motive behind this."

"If I tell you I fear you'll skew the data."

"Okay, robo-tutor." He sees the hurt flash on your face and knows that wasn't a nice thing to say. He sees it in the way your body slumps. "Sorry, I said something that upset you." He thins his lips.

You cast your eyes away. "No," you deny.

"Hey, you're a shit liar." Part of you sings in approval that he grumbles it quietly. He reminded you often of a moody German Shepard. Always barking at his friends with his short fuse, but he reluctantly allowed you to get away with things with minimal complaining.

"No," you repeat. You had a monstrous crush on him, it made you just as soft as him. And kneeling in front of him was submissive. You were reminded of it when he'd encouraged you to stay where you were. Your mind presenting you with a the desire to lay your head right between his legs. Thankfully, you had impulse control.

The softened rasp he saved just for you made you feel special like the hormonal young woman. Christ, it felt ridiculous how badly you hoped he felt back. Even when he was calling you out, it thrilled you, like knowing he wasn't actually mad at you.

You blame the morbid curiosity that the scientific part of your brain fanned the flames. Biological need. Basic instinct. Purely Phermones. Especially when he leans forward over you. "Hey, look at me," he snaps. It's meant to intimidate, but you were truly blown away by the swell of bodily reactions that stirrs. Especially when it made your pussy feel like lava.

Your eyes obey without your discretion. He notices, eyes flickering narrow for a second. Any flicker of the nerve he'd struck is swept up by the increased circulation to your face due to the intimacy you were feeling with him.

Your ears burn, but only because you've never been surrounded by this much Eddie. "Okay," he hums.

That's it.

He stands, snatching up the campaign he seemed to be constructing. He messing dumped them in a corner (you mentally begin to clean his room) before he strides to the mirror across the room and plucks it off the wall like it was gospel. And then you wonder if that's how he'd treat a girl. Tonight you'll certainly imagine him treating you as tenderly as he holds the instrument.

"Guitar," he grunts out. "I'll teach you, come on."

"I had another suggestion," you admit as you take his outstretched hand to help you up.

"You don't want to learn? I thought-"

"Oh no! I meant to help you! We need to find motivation for you. A... a reward system?" He tilts his head as you climb to your feet.

"Reward system? Like I get a reward?" He chirps.

"Mhmm." You agree as he slowly shuffles closer to his bed.

"I'm listening."

"And this is up for negotiation," you preface as he takes a seat again at the edge of the mattress. "But I was thinking for every 'C' you get, I could give you a-a... little thing, like guitar picks or like... snacks or something." Eddie breaks out into a grin.

"For every assignment?"

"Yeah and like... if you get a C- it'll be like one pick or a fruit snack but the higher the score the more snacks."

"Give me an example."

"If you get a 'C-', you get a guitar pick. If you get a 'C', I bring you snacks the next morning. If you get a C+, I'll buy your lunch or something." He ponders this, eyes narrowing firmly as he regards you rocking on your feet in the middle of his bedroom.

"How about for a 'C+', you bring me some of those cookies you made for halloween?" He requests.

"The pumpkin ones?"

"Yeah, you made them look like bats." You grin at him. He'd raved about them at the time but you're pleseantly surprised he remembered them.

"Deal. I'll give you a whole batch of pumpkin cookies if you earn a 'C+'." He grins triumphantly through his successful negotiations.

"What if i manage a 'B'?" You shrug, moving to sit beside him on his bed. You're aware of the smokey smell of him heavy in the room and it made you're head spin. The room turns warmer, like someone was cranking the thermostat.

"We'll I've been think about that, ya know?" You feel your cheeks start to heat up. Eddie regards you carefully and your acutely aware of his watchful eyes. Eddie was uncannily observant most of the time and as thrilling as it tended to be under his scrutiny, it was equally nervewracking... Especially when your explination begins to bubble out.

"And it's been a tough thought. So I was thinking about what motivates boys. And sports was out of the question. And you like guitar stuff, but I don't know enough about it, same with D'n'D... so I thought... what else?"

The last two words sink heavily between you both. Eddie blinks a couple times at you trailing off. Your cheeks are burning hot enough one could probably feel it without touching you. He's cheeks darken as well as he swallows and clears his throat, he wets his lips before he rumbles:

"Are you referring to sex?"

"Not quite." You pipe quickly.

"What do I get if I get a 'B'?" He repeats, much more serious, eyes burning into yours with nearly the same fire as when he was snapping at you but this time it carries and electricity that climbs through you.

"Spank bank material?" You offer sheepishly. His jaw drops open.

"Like porn? You're gonna get me porn?" Eddie demands as his alabaster cheeks darken a couple shades. It's hard to tell with his voice and frozen facial features if he actually likes that idea.

"Actually, I was thinking more like... if you get a 'B-', I'll show you my boobs but if youd rather have actual porn...." you trail off.

His eyes couldn't get wider, you think. They're enormous and for once, Eddie has been stunned into silence. You watch those big eyes dart down to the front of your sweater.

When he does speak, his voice is raspy, "No, no, I like you're idea better, Honey." The nickname jolts you a bit and you smile in relief that he'd finally made an indication of some kind on how he felt.

"If you get a 'B' you can have a picture of them." Eddie is sliding the guitar off to the side then, scooting to the edge of the bed eagerly and it makes your chest loosen and explode with butterflies.

"I want to take the picture." He reports, eyes drifting back up to yours and you're suddenly wishing he'd look back at the vague form of your tits. This was the most intense conversation you'd ever had, offering your body up to the guy you'd admired from a far for most of high school.

This pitch. It felt like a snowball and as good as that sounded, you didn't want to overstep boundaries you'd had yet to discover. After all, you were eighteen and just because you hadn't kissed a boy doesn't mean that you didn't know anything about things like this.

"We'll see."

"Then I want one of your bras for the 'B+'."

"Those are expensive. No way." You frown and try the next best suggestion. "You can feel me up, how bout that?" Eddie chuckles breathlessly at your protest.

"Really breaking my heart here, sweetheart." His eyes are glittering in a way you only saw when he doing something taboo. "If I get an A+ can I fuck you?" He asks abruptly. It steals your breath for a second and you quickly cover for it, slowly shaking your head.

He doesn't look disappointed when you do this, just tilts his head a little.

Truthfully, you didn't want Eddie to fuck you as a reward for his good behavior. You wanted you're first time to be simply because it felt right. Because you both wanted to have sex and to just feel good. You were already pimping yourself out to him to some degree.

"I'll give you an orgasm for every 'A+'?" Eddie's breath hitches. "With like my hands o-or... mouth?" He's pulling the pillow back in his lap very suddenly. A theory bubbled in your mind at that.

"And... can I for my 'A-', I want to borrow your panties?"

"Borrow?" You demand in confusion.

"Yeah... after you've worn 'em. More spank bank material." Spank bank. He wanted to use your worn panties for spank bank material? For the life of you, there was no understanding behind this request. He really want your dirty underwear.

"I guess if that's what you want, what do you want for 'A's, though?"

"Would I be able to touch you, too? Like... an orgasm for you." Your throat feels suddenly dry. You swallow against the thickness.

"M-e?" You manage to squeak, cheeks burning. He shifts closer on the mattress, eyes glittering. He slinks so smoothly across the surface of his trashed sheets. It feels like very predatory, like a big cat stalking you but entirely too thrilling at the same time. "That's not a reward."

Eddie cocks his head at you, the corner of his plump lips tilting up. "Are you saying it's not something you're willing to give me? Or are you saying it's not a reward I'd like?" The room is so warm all of a sudden, but the tingles have started between your legs. Your body betraying you to him.

You're unsure of how to answer, entirely uncertain about which it happened to be. Your emotions a muddle of overwhelm. And so your next words fall out of your mouth breathlessly.

"I don't know, Eddie." His lips slowly stretch into a deep grin. He hums your name like a prayer.

"Make no mistake, I'd pay money, I'd commit crimes, and I'll study with you as much as I can to be able to eat your pussy."

You jump for some reason. Your feet are scrambling and you find yourself looking around as you refuse to make eye contact with him. He chuckles as you scurry across his room, away from him.

"What are you looking for?" He questions as he rises, leaving his guitar on his bed to stroll closer. You take a deep breath, fully aware that you had no idea what you were looking for. Maybe a hidden camera.

"Where you got the audacity, to start." Eddie throws his head back to laugh a belly laugh at you. He stops his steps in front of you and grins down at you in utter amusement.

"I never get under your skin. Did I hit a nerve? What's got you so squirrely, Honey?" He lifts a hand to casually tuck some hair behind your ear.

"These are supposed to be your rewards... wouldn't that be weird?" You ask and it sobers his expression some.

"It would be a reward." He states. "So I guess that means the question is, will it be my reward? I promise you, I'm really good with my hands. I'll show you, come here." He holds out his hand for you. You can't help the nervous, hiccuping sigh that escapes you at his offer. He grins, knowing full-well what you were imagining.

"The guitar, sweetheart," he purrs, smile twisting maliciously. "Unless you want me to play with your pussy?" Your ridged spine jolts and you find that your breath is coming very fast.

Eddie had seriously just asked to touch you? What was the world coming too. This couldn't actually be real.

"Only if you get an 'A'," you agree with awhisper. There's a moment of hesitantly skirting your fingers across his hand as if he'd burn you. Something about his face is downright sinful. He clasps his hand around yours and drags you towards his bed to clear it off from everything quickly with one hand.

The way he's holding you're hand, as if you'll dart away, makes you smile with his back turned. When he's satisfied with that, Eddie drops onto the bed and pulls you between his legs. You shiver at the warm body pressing into your back.

"Here," he hums into your ear and lifts his guitar, with one hand he guides it across your hips. "It's going to rest across your lap just like this." You let him use you as a puppet.

You have to remind yourself that there is purpose to this experiment. He's going to teach you using the way he'd prefer to learn so you actually have to fight to pay attention to something other than how his calloused fingertips feel to direct you.

"Mercy," you mumble to yourself.

"What's that, Honey?"

"Nothing, didn't mean to interrupt." His mouth brushes by your ear.

A knock at the door has you jumping. "Pants are still on," Eddie calls and the door creaks open. His uncle grins in the door way as you turn a little redder.

"I'm off to work, Eddie, please... study hard." You can hear the grin in Eddie's voice.

"Don't worry, we'll study." Eddie promises, which makes Wayne arch an eyebrow as he studies the way his nephew is draped across your back.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Munson." You offer which makes Wayne give you a sweet smile. When the door seals shut,

I've lost track of my taglist so this will remain untagged for now. I seldom post due to ease of burnout so hit the follow and turn on notifications or follow me on AO3 at @dinthehottotty which is conveniently also one of my other blogs.

Part 2

[mrsevans90]

Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 13

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller 

Warnings: SMUT, p in v intercourse, face sitting (oral F), tiny mention of butt stuff 😜, angst, period, Emma embarrassed, anxious Sy, Nana (because her sassiness is a warning), language

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading! 

Part 12

Two weeks have passed since Emma’s parents visited and we have been spending the night together every night since. I’ve cleaned out a drawer in my bedroom that now holds extra clothes for when Emma’s here including some work scrubs so she can leave straight from my house. She cleaned out a drawer at her house for me and my spare clothes. I haven’t had this level of commitment to someone since I was in my twenties, but rather than feeling afraid I feel comforted. Coming home to her is just the most incredible feeling. She has really transformed my house into a home simply with her presence. We gave each other spare keys to each other’s homes last week so we wouldn’t have to wait on each other. I have finally accepted that Emma is my end game and I can’t run from happiness anymore. She’s basically aware of how damaged I am, having seen me through my worst flashback yet and even then, she wasn’t scared away. I often catch myself thinking about us living together, marrying her, and what our lives would look like if she would have me. I made myself so hard thinking about her pregnant with my children that I had to take a second shower one day last week. May have tapped into a bit of a breeding kink there but I plan to keep that to myself.

Tonight, it’s a Friday night and we decided to stay at mine. I’m on my way home and pull up to see that Emma’s jeep is already parked in the driveway and I smile. The vet clinic closes early on Friday afternoons due to it being slow, but this is the first time she’s beat me home. I unlock the front door and my nostrils are assaulted with the most incredible smelling aroma after a long day in the sun. I’m surprised that there are no dogs rushing to bombard me with excitement at the door, but as I walk further down the hall to find them practically on top of Emma on the couch as a show played on the tv. 

“Hi Darlin’. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” I say with a kiss to her forehead from behind the couch that she’s resting on. Emma’s lounging in one of my t-shirts and some of her teeny tiny sleep shorts that never fail to make me instantly hard. I can even tell that she’s braless and I’m tempted to cop a feel. 

“Mmm. Hi babe. How was work?”

“Hot.” I say honestly as I spent the majority of the day outside in the sun building a porch for a client. “Something smells amazing in the kitchen.”

“The lasagna has about ten more minutes until it’s done. I figure that’s enough time for you to shower or change into comfortable clothes before we eat.”

“You’re too damn good to me, Sugar.” I say as I tuck a stray hair from her eyes that’s fallen from her messy updo. 

“Nope, just trying to be as good as you deserve.” She says with a shy smile and I find myself not wanting to leave her presence even for just a quick shower after being without her all day. I make a point to greet the dogs who have traitorously not left Emma’s side even to greet me as I chuckle to myself at how quickly this astonishing woman has won all of us over.

I head to my bedroom, chucking clothes off as I go and toss them all into the hamper, which is surprisingly empty. I hop in the shower not wasting any time getting back to my girl, and a delicious smelling meal. Once I’m through, I put on some lounge shorts and a t-shirt and find Emma in the kitchen plating up our food. She’s made lasagna with garlic bread, and she poured us each a glass of sweet tea. My stomach growled at the sight and she giggled cutely as I helped carry the food to the table. Before she sits, I wrap her into my arms and kiss her. 

“Thank you for making dinner, Sugar.”

“Mmm, anytime. You sure you’re okay with me using the key and showing up before you got here? I was bored at the house and figured the pups would keep me company.”

“Darlin’, I can’t possibly tell you how much it brought a smile to my face having you here when I got home. I always want you here. Feels like a home with you in it. Now, let’s eat this feast, babygirl.”

“I made brownies for dessert.” She grins as she picks up her drink.

“You trying to make me pop a boner at the dinner table?” I ask jokingly and she chokes on her sip of sweet tea. Once Emma’s breath comes back to her after I dutifully contributed by smacking her back, we both start laughing so hard she has tears streaming down her face.

“I did not expect you to say that, Sy!” I’ve noticed she calls me Sy when she’s being playful or out in public. When it’s just us or family around, she calls me Austin and I honestly really like that since nobody ever uses my first name besides her.

“I usually think of that sweet pussy when I think of dessert, but I don’t mind having a brownie or two first.” I say with a wink and she shakes her head at me with a grin.

“So vulgar, Mr. Syverson.” 

“Don’t act like you don’t like it, Ms. Miller.” I joke back.

We ate dinner until we were stuffed and I quickly began cleaning the kitchen.  “Don’t look at me like that, woman. You cooked all of this. I’m cleaning. Go turn on your show and relax.” I tell her and she smacks my ass as she walks to the living room, with the dogs faithfully following her lead. I clean up and don’t hear the tv going so when I go looking for her, I see her in the backyard with the dogs. The summer heat has lessened as it is approaching dusk and Emma stands just outside the screened in porch throwing a tennis ball for Mills. Aika is rolling in the grass as lightning bugs start appearing at the edge of the yard. I walk out and wrap Emma tightly in my arms. 

“I thought I told you to relax, Angel.”

“I am. This house, your property, everything about being here relaxes me. It’s so calm and quiet here.”

“Yeah? Always thought of this place as my little slice of heaven. Even more with you here.” I tell her and she smiles.

“Think you could see yourself living here with me one day?” I ask knowing it’s probably way to early and I might freak her out. To my surprise, she smiles and wraps her arms along my forearms that are holding her waist. 

“It’s almost too easy to imagine that.” She whispers.

“Yeah?” I ask and she nods.

“Want to move in with me?” I ask surprising myself even. It’s early in the relationship still, but it feels right.

“Isn’t it too soon?” She asks as she turns and looks at my face scanning for the answer to her question.

“I guess that’s up to us to decide. I’m not ever wanting to pressure ya, Sugar, but I can’t say I don’t picture us living here together in this big old house. Maybe one day even some kids to fill up those bedrooms.”

Emma beams and kisses me. Moments of gentle kisses soon become heated and I’m guiding her back inside the screened in porch, the screen door squealing in protest as it slams behind us. 

“Time for dessert, and I don’t mean the brownies.” I say between passionate kisses. My hands are under the too large shirt she’s wearing, and I pull it over her head. She seemingly has no qualms about being topless here in my secluded backyard and I quickly reach behind my neck and pull my own shirt off so I can feel her skin against mine. Our hands are everywhere, groping and teasing at the same time before I turn her back against my chest and take her breasts in my hands while nipping down her neck. After sucking on her skin, I turn and lay myself down on my back on the outdoor couch that I had built a few years ago. 

“Climb on, sweetness.” I tell her and she slides her tiny shorts down along with her barely there thong and steps out of them. Emma reaches for my shorts that are tented from my very obvious boner but I shake my head and point to my chin. Emma’s cheeks turn bright pink and I smirk at her.

“Got your seat all ready for ya, Darlin’. Let me have a taste of that perfect peach.”

“I’ve never done that.” She whispers as I pull her close to my face. 

“Sit down.” I tell her.

“Austin, you won’t be able to breathe, I’ll smother you!” Emma frets. Like her tiny little frame could possibly suffocate me, but even so that would be the ideal way to go.

“Woman, just sit on my face!” I say as I pull her hips and ass down and hold her tightly. Emma gasps when she contacts my beard and I blow my warm breath onto her delicate core.

“That’s more like it, Sugar. Relax and let me eat.” I command with a smack to her ass cheeks. Emma surges forward and grips the arm rest of the couch as I get to work. I slide my tongue around her entrance and lick up in figure eights around her clit. Emma’s breathing becomes faster and when I spear my tongue into her opening she moans. My hands knead and massage her buttocks as I stare up at her heaving breasts that are chasing each breath she takes. Her eyes are closed tightly as her head tilts back slightly from the sensation I’m providing. When I begin putting pressure on her sensitive little button, Emma begins grinding against my face, her earlier hesitation seemingly no longer of concern. I double down and focus my efforts of pleasuring her as best as I can. My arm stretches out and grabs a handful of her breasts and lightly pinch the peaked bud. God, I could stay down here all day watching her like this. I continue teasing her sensitive nipples and am finally rewarded with her grinding down hard as her hands are grasping the short hair on my head. Emma moans loudly in her bliss, not caring one bit that we are outside. Her thighs clamp around me as I suck on her sweet little nub and greedily swallow up the juices that are dripping from her core. I maneuver Emma to where she is laying on top of me as she comes down from her high and wipe my soaked beard with my hand. Emma leans up to kiss me and I’m certain she can taste her little cunt on my lips which makes me painfully hard. 

“Fuck me, Sy. Hard.” She whines which makes me immediately sit up and lean her over the arm of the outdoor couch. Emma is panting in wordless anticipation as run my finger through her slick arousal before dropping my shorts and pressing myself against her. Emma impatiently pushes her ass further into my leaking erection and after spreading her legs a little wider, I slide home.

“Fucking hell, Darlin’. Never had a pussy feel so good. You’re perfect, baby girl.” I growl at her warm, wet heat as it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt. It’s a privilege being able to worship her body and that knowledge is not lost on me. I give her only a moment to adjust before I retreat and then slam into her again. 

“Ah! Baby! You feel so good inside of me.” She mewls as I thrust into her. I spread her round globes and look at her perfect little asshole.

“You’re so fucking pretty, baby girl. So beautiful and sexy.” I grunt.

“Tell me if you don’t like what I’m doing, Sugar.” I command. My ball sack is smacking her clit each time I thrust forward and I can no longer help myself. I spit onto her tight hole and gently circle it with my thumb. Emma moans at the sensation and I slowly slide my thumb into her tight rim. I smack her left ass cheek as I gently prod my thumb in and out of her snug hole.

“Fuck babe! I’m gonna cum!”

“Yeah Darlin’, let go for me. Let me feel you soak my cock.” I grunt.

Emma moans as she clamps down around me and I spear into her harder and faster until I reach my release, spurting my seed into her channel. Emma presses her body against the couch and I can’t help but lay across her soft back as I try and catch my breath. I’m not as young as I once was, but Sy’s still got it.

Emma looks absolutely shattered so once I remove myself from her, I gather our clothes, let the dogs inside and carry her to the master bathroom. I set her on the toilet while I start filling the bathtub and appreciate Emma’s sleepy smile at my preparations. While the water is filling, I jog back down to the kitchen, wash my hands, and grab the platter of brownies Emma made with two cups of milk. Emma giggles when she sees me smuggling our treats back into the bathroom and setting out a stool next to the tub to place them on. When the water is filled and the bubbles are sufficient, I step in first before helping Emma in and positioning her on my lap. Emma’s back rests against my chest and I think about the last time we bathed in here together and how nervous I was for her to sleep over. Now, I only sleep poorly when she’s not next to me. I lean forward and get each of us a brownie and we gently bump them together with a “cheers” before digging in. 

“I gave Millsy-bear his last set of puppy shots this afternoon when I got here, by the way.” She says.

“Thanks, Sugar. No wonder he was snuggling hard on the couch when I made it home.”

“I gave him treats and extra cuddles for having to get a shot. Aika got one just for being cute. Bribery is key in veterinary medicine.” Emma says.

“You make house calls for all of your clients?”

“Only one. My favorite.”

“You’re my favorite too, Sugar.” I place a kiss on her temple.

“Oh, I was talking about Mills… Awkward.” She jokes and I tickle her ribs.

 “I guess you’re up there on the list of my favorite things.” Emma says with kiss to my lips before picking a brownie crumb from my scruff. She smiles as she eats it and then takes a bite out of her dessert.

“Are you always this happy?” I ask her without thinking. I know I have a reputation of being extremely serious, or a ‘grump’ as Alex says, but Emma is the opposite. She’s like sunshine. The daytime to my nighttime. She’s made me smile and laugh more in these three months than probably ever before.

“Um not at all. You just make me really happy, Sy.” 

“You’ve made me the happiest man in the world, Darlin.”

Emma and I lay in the tub talking about all things that come to mind until the water gets cold and my perpetual warmth isn’t enough for her. She's shivering as we climb out. We rinse off the bubble bath in the shower quickly before getting in bed and falling asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. 

I wake up early the next morning, close to six am and see my sleeping beauty is still a mess of hair and disheveled blankets next to me. She slept in one of my t-shirts last night since she was still cold from our extended bath, and as no surprise it’s twisted up around her waist. I smile at her disarray before snuggling up to her. When I do, I feel like I’ve rolled in something wet so I lift the covers. Oh no, a little patch of blood. Emma must’ve started her period in her sleep and knowing what I do about how she’s been treated in the past, I don’t want her to panic. I ease out of bed to grab some clothes, using my military stealth to do so as quietly as possible. Luckily my girl could sleep through a tornado, but I didn’t want to take any chances. I scribbled out a quick note telling her not to panic, and that I’ve run to the store but I’ll be right back in case she wakes up before placing it on my pillow.

Thank goodness there is a pharmacy about seven minutes from my house. I walk in and try my best to think of anything she might need. I purchase some tampons, pads, painkillers, a hot water bottle, and all of the chocolate my arms can carry. They even had some flowers there and I grabbed those at the checkout. The elderly woman at the register just smiled at me and told me I was a “good man.” This should be the standard for men taking care of their women, but clearly, it’s not. I quickly load everything up and head back to the house. I head to bedroom and Emma hasn’t moved an inch. I take the female hygiene items to the bathroom and place them on the countertop, before going to gently wake Emma up. I hate to do it but I figure it’s likely better to let her only see a little spot of blood rather than a big one and panicking even more.

“Sugar… Hey beautiful.” I stroke her hair away from her face and she gently shakes her head at me.

“uh-uh… no.” She grunts and I chuckle. 

“Darlin’, can you wake up for me for just a minute please?”

“It’s Saturday… and still dark out, Sy.” She says after peaking one eye open.

“I know, and I’ll let you go back to sleep in just a minute but I need your attention.”

She yawns before I continue.

“I don’t want you to panic, so please remember, it’s okay. I’m not like the guys you’ve been with in the past.”

“Sy? What are you saying? It’s too early for riddles.”

“I think you may have started your period last night. Now, it’s no problem but I wanted to let you know so you co”

“Oh my god!” She interrupts, jerking covers up above her head to appraise the situation. 

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry.” She says with tears rimming her eyes as she lifts her head from the covers.

“Now, stop it right there. You’ve got nothing to apologize for. It’s okay, Sugar. Take a breath.” 

“I… um.. need to head back to my house.” She says quickly as a tear falls from her eye.

“I’ve got everything you need, baby, and I’m going to take care of you. Now, head on into the bathroom and take care of what you need to, and I’ll take care of this.” 

“Sy, I’m so embarrassed. I need tampons and I didn’t bring any. I will replace the sheets.”

“No need, I’ll just toss ‘em in the washer and it’ll be just fine. I bought tampons and pads. They’re on the counter.” I help her out of bed and lead her into the bathroom. 

“I tried to get a little bit of everything since I don’t know what you prefer so you just do what you need to do, baby girl. Nothing to be embarrassed about, I promise.” I kiss her forehead and she nods as more tears streak down her face. I want to scoop her up and stop her tears but figured she might just want a minute alone to collect herself. I hear the shower turn on as I close the door behind me.

I walk out and quickly strip the bed and throw the sheets in the washer before making the bed up with clean sheets. As I’m making the bed, I get angry thinking about her douche ex-boyfriend who made her feel so ashamed for her body doing something that it is supposed to do. The more I think about it, the angrier I get as I’m shoving the pillows into the new pillowcases.

“Um, thank you, for the stuff.” I hear Emma whisper as I quickly turn around and see her there. She looks so small as she wraps her arms around herself.

“Is what I got okay?” I ask and she nods before going to her bag and pulling on some new panties, t-shirt, and sweatpants.

I pat the clean bed and she crawls up next to me before I hear her sob into my chest. I can’t seem to get her to look at me as she buries her face into my chest so I just hold her until her breath comes easier.

“Feel better?”

“Not really. I’m just embarrassed.”

“No need to be baby girl. I promise you, it’s fine. I just want you to be comfortable.”

“You make me comfortable. It’s just hard to change how I think after being told it was disgusting my whole life.”

“Trust me, if I ever see that douchebag again I will punch him so hard for ever making you feel like that.” I tell her as I wipe a tear from her cheek.

“Let me take care of you?” I ask and Emma nods with a small smile.

“Good. I got you an arsenal of chocolate, some painkillers, and a hot water bottle too.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? Isn’t that stuff helpful?”

“It is, very much so… I just mean you didn’t have too.” 

“I want too… Sugar, I love you.” I say and Emma sits up to look at me.

“You do?” She bites her lip.

“I love you more than I can even articulate.” I tell her truthfully.

“I love you too, Austin. I love you so much.” She says and I swear to God, I am beaming. 

I love this woman and she loves me. Emma leans forward and kisses me in a kiss so consuming I can picture our whole lives together. After kissing a little, we lay back down and I stroke her hair until she’s fallen back asleep. When she’s thoroughly asleep, I ease up and decide to take the dogs out to get them a little bit of exercise before heading to the kitchen to make us some breakfast. 

Emma saunters downstairs about two hours later seeming more well rested as I’ve got her breakfast plated up. She kisses on the dogs who are eagerly corralling around her legs before walking over to me and kissing me tenderly. 

“Thank you for breakfast.”

“Anything for you, sweet darlin’.” I wink over my coffee cup as Emma fills her cup and adds her creamer.

Emma glances at her phone with an inquisitive look. 

“Everything alright?” I ask.

“Yeah, I just was checking my security cameras. I think the Rodriguez family across the street from me got their teenager a car. It’s been parked out in the street across from the house all day yesterday. I knew he must be close to driving age. It just turned around in my driveway so I got a notification on my phone. That’s all.” She says nonchalantly and I nod at her assumption.

“What should we do today?” I ask her as we eat.

“Maybe go to the grocery store? I figured I could go ahead and meal prep for the week. I also need to get the ingredients to make banana pudding for your Nana and PawPaw’s house.”

“Sugar, you don’t have to go to all that trouble.” I start but Emma shakes her head.

“No, when we talked last week I told her that I wouldn’t mind bringing dessert.” I just about choke on my bacon.

“She called you?” I ask and Emma blushes.

“She did. Is that okay?” 

“Of course, that’s more than fine… I just don’t want her bothering you. She’s a bit of a handful if you know what I mean. I didn’t even realize she got your number.”

“Well, she told me not to tell you because you would ‘whine about her interfering’, but she called the vet clinic and got in touch with me there. She said she wanted to make sure I was joining y’all for lunch Sunday, and then wanted my mom’s number so they could keep in touch.”

“That woman.” I shake my head incredulously. 

“I ask her to not interfere, and she goes around calling you and your family. Good grief.” I chuckle at the audacity of Nana. She’s going to get her way no matter what. She’s never gone to these extremes to contact anyone I’ve dated though, so maybe it’s a good thing.

Emma giggles.

“I think it’s sweet. Anyway, we got to talking about her cooking and I offered to make dessert. If that’s okay with you, let’s go ahead and go to the store after breakfast.” 

“I’ll do anything you want me too, Sugar.” 

We eat and chat a bit before Emma changes clothes and starts gathering her items to head to the store. I head upstairs and throw on some different clothes as well before we load up and head to the store. 

When we get there, I’m in charge of the buggy. Emma has a list on her phone of all the items she needs to get, so I just follow her with the cart as she gathers her items. I also add a few of my own favorites as we are traversing the aisles, such as chips and beef jerky.

Once we’ve got everything on our list, we head to the checkout and I insist again on paying. Emma crosses her arms, jutting out her hip with a scowl that I can’t help but chuckle at. She’s like an angry kitten and I just want to kiss all over her face, so I do. After we pay, we make our way out the doors.

“By the way, you said you wanted steaks one night this week. Did you remember to put those in the cart?” 

“Shit, I totally forgot. Here,” I hand Emma my truck keys. “Let me run back and grab some while you put the groceries in the truck?” I ask and Emma nods. I kiss her forehead before jogging back in the store to collect and purchase the forgotten steaks. 

I skip the small talk with the cashier and head straight for the self-check out so that I hopefully don’t keep Emma waiting too long. After buying our main dinner entrée, I head outside toward my large grey truck, with Syverson Contracting Inc. embossed along the side. Emma must’ve loaded the groceries quickly as I don't see her. I walk over and notice she’s not in the passenger seat before I hear her scream.

“LET GO OF ME!” I drop the bag and turn to look for her. About 30 yards away, I spot someone I recognize. Then it dawns on me who it is. 

Colin.

Part 14

Taglist: @shellyshellshell, @henryownsme, @caramariehurst, @beck07990, @mollymal, @kingliam2019, @syversonswife, @identity2212, @starfirewildheart, @hannah9921, @wa-ni, @kneelforloki, @cutedoxie, @enchantedbytomandhenry, @foxyjwls007, @geralts-yenn, @courtlynwriter, @corrie1013, @squeezyvalkyrie, @summersong69, @livisss, @mayloma, @uunotheangel, @warriormirkwood, @sofiebstar

Author's Note: Ya girl's struggling with a sinus infection right now but I was able to finally get this posted! Had an ultrasound today and baby was healthy and active so I am happy!

[marigold-hills]

june 1: incantation | @wolfstarmicrofic | word count: 546

Remus speaks carelessly. Mouth framing words like each sound is comfortably familiar – not rehearsed but known, something in his bones and blood and given to him by his ancestors. Broad vowels, silent t’s.

Sirius watches his lips move, the scar bisecting them stretch. Hangs on every dropped consonant like it’s a missed step in the dark. Something in him rejoices at the way Remus disregards elision: a flagrant defiance to Sirius’ childhood elocution lessons.

The joy of watching Remus speak is more than subversion from his upbringing – the moments when Sirius can do it like this (undisturbed and unnoticed)? They rebuild something in him he thought irreparably broken. He wants to fall asleep to it, make a cassette and listen to it on repeat, pretend he’s struggling with the material just to have Remus read to him.

There is something else, too. When he’s Padfoot and wants to chase a rabbit, a part of him feral and untamed – this want he can’t name occupies the same space. Something like this: to eat, to devour, to sink his teeth into flesh. Unnervingly, he thinks, he wants to hurt Remus.

“Cùram-slàinte,” Remus mumbles, “loiceadh.”

The part of Sirius that wants to bite him whines.

To hear him speak in English is a comfort. When he throws Latin-based spells it’s a thrill.

Listening as he builds incantations in Gaelic is the same as watching a storm approach with nowhere to hide. Sirius will stand in a clearing, wait for it to drench him, welcome each heavy raindrop. Thank it, afterward, if it deems him worthy to strike.

“Pads, do you have spare ink? I’ve run out.”

“Anything for you Moony, my love,” he jokes, endearment making Remus roll his eyes at him.

The library is quiet at this time of the evening. The other two of their four are playing Quidditch and Gobstones, respectively, as they always do on Fridays. Sirius keeps the days open, ostensibly so he can study (NEWTs are fast approaching, he should be). He brings his books along but doesn’t keep up with the pretends of actually opening them.

“You know.” Remus looks up from the borrowed ink pot, “you won’t get any studying done through osmosis.”

“Could do.”

Remus pretends to consider this. “Even if, won’t do you any good to learn this.”

He’s right, of course, as their Moony so often is. The dissertation he’s working on has nothing to do with Sirius’ work – Gaelic in the creation of new offensive spells is significantly different than his Exploring antimony and its reference as Grey Wolf in Ancient Runes. He doesn’t want to tell Remus he’s already finished his one (and got a tattoo to match) because then his excuse to hang out in the library would become even flimsier.

(Something he should consider: why the excuse and why the need to be there in the first place. Why watch Remus with such closeness, so differently than he does Peter, or James? But approaching these thoughts makes that feral part of him whine me a wounded dog, so he stays clear and indulges himself.)

“At least take your books out, you big mangy dog,” Remus laughs (sunlight falling onto old moss-covered stone) and reaches out to swipe a hair away from Sirius’ eyes.

NEXT PART

NOTES:

this is Part 1 of a 30 part series of standalone shorts which together make a larger story “The 30 ways you found me. Let me know your thoughts!

in the UK at the end of education equivalent to Hogwarts you can opt to do an extended project - essentially a semi large research paper on your chosen topic. I like to think it’s the same at Hogwarts, and that’s what they are working on here.

Oblivious Sirius is one of my favourites

[harrysmimi]

Disrespect

Synopsis: Harry walks in to see YN being mistreated by his fans at her work

Series Masterlist | More of my work

"Harry!"

It was eight the morning when Harry heard YN calling him from the shower whilst he was preparing for breakfast.

"You alright?" He rushed back to their bedroom to watch her head popped out of the bathroom door, he could really see she was butt naked in the mirror behind her through the cracked door. "What?"

"I forgot my towel." She said, obviously sheepish smile on her face.

"You could have come out you know." He suggested already going to fetch the towel for her. "I can see your bum in the mirror there."

She rolled her eyes, "like you haven't seen it already." And it's cold to walk out of shower butt nakey without a towel.

"I have, I have," he agreed.

"Can I wear one of your hoodie?" She asked, taking the towel from him. He got a thank you kiss on the cheek instead of her saying it out loud.

"When do you not?" He shrugged, "you've stole all my clothes. Just got me boxers to my name."

YN just giggles, "they're comfy!"

"And you know you don't have to ask me, darling." He assured her, watching her walk out with the towel wrapped around her body. "Are you still sore?" Enquiring about the changing weather which triggers her arthritis, he wrapped his arms around her from behind. Also, they went a little too rough last night. Bask in the fresh smell of her body wash.

"A hot shower helped, can definitely walk now." She shared. He caught her towel which unraveled to her chest.

"I really do go at it like a rabit." He realised. "But can you blame me though!"

"No one's blaming you." She resumed picking out her clothes and a hoodie from his side of the closet with a six feet tall, man baby clinging onto her.

"I think you should take the day off." He suggested. "I crave attention today!"

"I already took up all paid leaves, I can't." She cooed, "it's Friday. I'll be home for the weekend, I promise."

"You're not going over to Brielle's, this weekend?" His earn perked up like a cat at the news.

She has been going over to her friend's because she was really struggling in the last trimester of her pregnancy, with her Fiancé working extra hours at office so he can take the leave, her mum being busy with work the girl pregnant with twins was left alone for the most of the time. YN was a good friend, it really warmed his heart to see how she cared for people close to her. He didn't mind when she went over to her friend's house for the day on weekend.

"Yeah, she said her Fiancé's paternity leave begins from today." She shared.

"Well, good, I get to have my girl to myself." He sighed dropping his head into the crook of her neck, his soft lips brushing against her soft skin. "When do you get off work today?"

"At five." She reached for her pants hung on the hangers. "Haz, you're tickling me!" She squealed feeling his finger tips dig in her side making him chuckle. He press his lips onto her bare shoulder, coming to halt with his teasing.

"Alright then, I'm dropping you off on my way to gym and I'll be coming over to pick you up as well." He announced his plan, tucking the loose end of the towel back in so it wouldn't fall off when he pulled away.

"Mhmm." She nodded.

......................................................................

YN's day was going super well today. Especially because they were not short staffed today. And she gets to see her man at the end of the day who had just dropped her off at work this morning.

Today they had very generous customers coming in who did not hesitate to give tips. It wasn't a common thing for folks in UK to tip, and not to take it wrong they get paid fair wages. YN's boss ensures that they get their holiday bonuses every time. But there are employees who had many good uses of those extra tips.

"YN, would you mind?" Emily gestured a request for her to go over to the til whilst she get the order ready. YN stood behind the vacant register, next to her other co-worker Kathleen, who was already taking in a order.

"Hello good evening, what can I get for you today?" She smiled greeting the two girls who'd just walked in. She could already sense the vibes as if she's a psychic. Especially with a LOT tote bags and Pleasing hoodie. Both of the girls had their heads buried into their phones, air pods in.

"I'll take an iced mocha latte," the girl in the yellow hoodie said. YN decided to ignore the fact her head was still down.

"Can I'll take a black coffee." The other one said who had the decency to at least look at her.

"I'll also take a chocolate croissant." Now the girl in the yellow hoodie looked up at YN, who was punching in the order in the register as if she was on autopilot.

"What size to you want it to be?" YN asked more about their vague order.

"The croissant?" The yellow hoodie scoffed.

"Coffee?" YN said, but it came in as more of a question. How stupid a person have to be to ask thay question... But who is she to judge?

"Make the black coffee a medium please, with no sweetner."

"Make mine a medium too then I guess!" You g lady said, rather rudely when YN looked at her for her order.

"Okay," she nodded, "do you want it with regular milk or substituted milk?"

"Duh, regular milk."

Kathleen looked at YN as she patiently deal with these teenagers. She proceeded to ask their names to put on the cups. Trice and Juniper it was.

Not to take this in a wrong way, her co-workers felt bad for her. Because from this past week she's got her boyfriend's fans coming in just to mistreat her and bully her. Yes, all of the people who work with YN are Harry's huge fans but they respect him enough to be involved in his personal business with their co-worker. Everyone loved YN at the cafe, especially the frequent customers. She was literally ray of sunshine at work, nothing but kind and sweet to others.

What reason has she got to be rude to other people for no reason anyway? She goes to work because she likes it and it put food on her plate a roof over her head.

And then there are these people who are worse than who they call Karens and Kevins among the employees, the rude and entitled ones who are inevitable to avoid. These girls clearly seem to know who she is, especially since YN's been to a premier with Harry. Even though she wasn't on red carpet with him, his fans still managed to get her pictures next to Glenn and Jeffery. Everyone knew what Harry's secret girlfriend looked like all of a sudden.

YN proceeded to tell them their total and girl in the yellow hoodie decided to pay, with cash.

The door bell chimed catching YN's attention, it was Harry she saw. He'd came over to pick her. He shot her petite wave as he went on to stand to a side whilst she gets done with her work. He greeted Emily who was making a latte at YN's usually spot of work, talking about the kittens. He wouldn't lie, he's been excited about it.

YN's had enough them the girl threw two bills on the counter, instead of handing it to her when she had her hand out. Causing the money to fall in two different directions. She picked it up quiet and reached for coins in the til.

"Would you like the bill?" YN asked but that just earned a scoff to her.

Kathleen shot her a no look because she, well, apparently everyone knows that she's pissed now. She tossed the coins on the counter the same way the girl did, causing the metal to bounce, and some rolled off the counter on the floor. Both the girls gasp. Harry saw all of that, clearly, he glanced at a shocked Emily who missed it whilst she was doing her work.

"Your order will be ready in five, Trice." YN said with am overly fake smile she even bothered to put on.

"You are so fucking rude!" Trice said, "fat, ugly bitch, what did you do that for?"

"Oi, watch it!" Kathleen butted it, clearly offended for her co-worker.

"Clearly, everything said about you on the internet is true. You don't deserve to be with Harry, you ungrateful who—"

"What is going on here?" Jennifer, YN's manager came over seeing the commotion before Harry was about to stand up for his girl. That was the most atrocious thing he'd seen. "Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you kindly to step out of our shop." She continued, politely moving YN to a side, she fetched for the amount the girl had paid ever so kindly to refund.

"This is ridiculous. She was being mean to me, throwing the money like I'm a fucking begger by a mere server!" Trice exclaimed. "Are you the manager?" All the whilst her friend stood there with her jaw hung to the floor. Maybe she was surprised by her friend's behaviour, or she was thinking YN's in wrong here.

"Yes, I am and I'm not going to let you treat my employees this way. We are refusing to serve you today, and in the future." Jennifer said, firmly. "Please." She gestured the girls to the door.

Harry couldn't take it, especially when the other one saw him standing right there to be a witness to the scene. On the internet, it could be pretty much easy to avoid by simply not indulging into it, and his girl is has mastered doing that so far. But this is insane, coming in at her work place. He had let the incident on her flight to New York, he wasn't there and YN chose to not tell him the details. But this. This all all happened right in front of him. That person was about to call his girlfriend disrespectful names, that broke his peak of patience there.

The other one nudged her friend's side to make his presence known to him there. The girl, who's name is Trice he reckoned looked at him as if she just saw a ghost there.

"This is her place of work. Whatever you think her job is, doesn't give you the right the treat my girlfriend that way." He spoke to the girls, calmly, because he doesn't want to add to the commotion happening, "I want you to know that, I found it very rude of you. Hope you work on being on a better person!"

YN looked at him, surprised. Honestly she didn't know why she was surprised. She was shook, as that girl was about to call her the w-word. She had never heard anyone call her that, even through she's gotten into many arguments with rude customers like the girl. Not even on the internet people go this far to bully her for simply being her boyfriend's girlfriend.

YN didn't know how to take it and process it!

Harry was so grateful for YN's manager to stepping in. Or he would have lost it actually hearing someone calling his girlfriend so disrespectful. He just watched as those girl mumbled their apologies to him before leaving. He proceeded to pick up the change which had fallen on the floor and handed it back to Kathleen.

"You alright?" Jennifer asked YN, who was still trying to take in what just happened.

"Yeah, I, I am really sorry about that." YN mumbled.

"Don't be," Kathleen butted in who saw everything first hand happening to her, "that girl was a literal shit of a person. What you did was very fucking badass!"

"Mhmm!" Emily sounded.

There were not many people in the cafe that time but everyone who was watching had seemed to get back to their work. Harry approached closer to the til. "Do you want to go home now?"

"Yes, yeah, I'll be out." YN agreed, before heading to the back. "Gimme five minutes."

"Mhmm." He nodded.

On the way he stayed silent, it was awkward for the first time in between them. Especially that's what YN felt.

"I'm sorry about that." He spoke, once they're back in comfort of their home.

"Why so? It wasn't your fault Harry." She cooed. "Come here, sit down." Walking over to the living room she made him sit down on the sofa whilst she took a seat on the coffee table in front of him. "It's okay, I promise."

"It's not," he looked more hurt than her, "they bully you just because you choose to stick by my side. That's fuck up, baby and not okay!"

"I know, but we can't control everyone, can we?" She shrugged, "you say it to me that the best we can do it just ignore the hate. And honestly I now look at her like one of those bad customers, that's all."

"That's the thing, you shouldn't!" He stressed, "I'm going to put out an statement, this is ridiculous. She was clearly about to call you something so disrespectful, I don't even wanna say it! It's disgusting!"

"Don't do that, please, it's only going to add to the drama." She insisted, "it's gonna attract more hate and criticism, and I don't want that that for you, for us."

Well, she isn't entirely in wrong here. People wouldn't mind talking shit about him either, why was he at his girlfriend's work place? Where is the professionalism? Why would he say that to people who literally keep him employed? What was he thinking when he said that? Why did he said it like that? He cares too much, or he cares too little. The criticism was going to come in from left, right, front and back.

"Okay." He nodded.

"Yeah, we'll just deal with it when we absolutely have to. We don't owe anyone any explaination. I see rude customers every single day." She nudged her nose closer to his with her forehead on his.

"I just hated that do much!" with a sigh his voice sounded so watery. God he loves her so much, he would fight the world for her with his bare hands in that moment.

All the other times, it didn't hit him this hard. With her it was different for him. Of course it was, it is YN he's talking about here!

"I know, Haz. But it's okay." She pulled him in a tight embrace his head rested on her chest, "I promise!"

"It shouldn't be okay!" He sighed, pulling away. "It shouldn't be. Don't tell me to keep low when they cause a big stir on the internet and it reaches media, I'm not going to sit here and let everyone talk more shit about you!"

"Okay, only if they make drama." She agreed.

"Okay." He nodded.

"We just came back, but do you want to go get some ice-cream?" She suggested.

"Hmm," he sighed remembering about this thing he had planned on, "I had plan to go to Italy."

"What is it with you and your impromptu vacations?" She chuckled. "Why Italy all of a sudden?"

"I don't know." He shrugged, "I'm bored now that I don't have anything to do. Thought I could take you to a museum there, on a date."

"Oh how rich are you!" She sighed dramatically, with dreamy eyes making him giggle.

"You still want to go? We have about two three hours." He suggested.

"You already booked a flight?" She was surprised.

"Yeah, come on, will help you pack." He grabbed her hand and walked her to their bedroom.

"Harry, it's gonna take time and you traffic this time is the worse." She stressed.

"We'll wait for another one if we miss it, now come on, we need to pack enough for the weekend." Harry went on to bring out a duffle bag.

"Can we postpone it to the next weekend? I am anxious we're going to miss the flight." She was froze to her spot watching him move back and forth from the closet picking out his own clothes too. She'd feel to bad if they miss the flight as it is going to be waste of money.

"I don't think so, it's okay," he assured her. "We don't have to waste no more time."

"I'm telling you we're going to miss the flight!"

"We're not!" He laughed. "We'll take this too." He picked out a random pretty dress from her side and folded it nicely before stuffing it into the bag.

"You're so annoying! Could have told me beforehand about this." She scolded him, now frantically picking out her stuff, "if we miss the flight it's gonna go to waste!"

"Baby, baby, baby I need you to calm down please!" giggling, he rushed towards his girlfriend  who was carrying her stuff in her arms, a towel, her toiletries, her hoodies and under garments. "It's okay. I was going to tell you this the in the car but shit happened so I couldn't. It's okay if we miss the flight, we'll wait another hour for the next one. We're not going to postpone this trip, okay? Now chop-chop!"

"Where are we gonna stay? Hotels are very fucking expensive."

"I've got a house there we'll be staying at."

He's got a surprise for her there waiting there. With a pat pn her bum her urged her to hurry as he called for a cab to the airport. And they really missed the flight, YN was pissed to say the least. But Harry distracted her reading about the museum he was actually going to take her to whilst they waited there for the next flight.

......................................................................

Tag list:

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @sweetwritingfanficfriend @theroosterswife24 @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts @marialikescherries @japanchrry @onlyangelrain @supersanelyromantic @tenaciousperfectionunknown @haarrrys Lemme know if you want to added to the tag list

[krysalla]

vermilion

jonathan crane x f!reader

word count: 2.5k

read on ao3

warnings: 18+ MDNI, stalking, kidnapping, blood, murder, somno, drugging, noncon, masturbation, unfortunately crane is a fucking freak with no sense of boundaries, mentioned child abuse, crane and grandma keeny having a norma and norman bates type relationship, in no way romantic but crane thinks it is because he thinks reader is his twin flame, inspired by a slipknot song

You’re a creature of habit. You leave work at five in the evening, you take the same way home every day except for Mondays—that is when you do your grocery shopping for the week. You go to the library every other Tuesday, to the movies on Wednesdays, go out to dinner by yourself on Thursdays, go to the used bookstore and antique store and occasionally the zoo on Saturdays, and you spend all day on Sundays cleaning and getting ready for the start of your work week. Today is Friday and Fridays are meant for decompression from your week. Since he started watching you all those months ago, you have never once deviated from your Friday routine—you polish off a bottle of Chardonnay, sit curled up in the corner of your couch with a book and a stack of CDs next to you to listen to while you read. You call it quits around ten o’clock, run through the motions of your bedtime routine and slip into bed. 

It is now two in the morning and there has been no trace of you. 

His blood curdles in his veins into a thick sludge of anger and hatred. How dare you? Jonathan has been standing, waiting in this small closet for hours just for you. Have you no consideration for him? To just leave him here with no sign of where you will be going, no note on your calendar where you keep all your appointments, no egregiously long phone calls with your fickle mother or your simpleton friends. He will punish you for this. Remind you that, while his presence in your life may not be fully known to you, you are still his little mouse. 

Your bedroom door bursts open. He cannot see you through the darkness, but he can hear your breathing. You flick on the light and flood the room. Your blouse is hanging on by the hem that’s still tucked into your pencil skirt. He’s missed the touch of your skin, the softness of it, it’s the only thing holding him together now that the ire rising in his throat has been ramped down by the feeling of want. His blood still burns hot and thick. Yes, he can easily forgive you with just the flash of your skin. You’re giving him everything he wants, being a good little mouse. 

Your shower and nighttime routine is cut short by your tired and stilted steps. He can smell the faint traces of alcohol on your mouth when you pass by the slotted door he hides behind. You’re so close. He stills his hand before he can reach for the doorknob. He has been waiting this long, what is another fifteen minutes to the nine hours he has already spent here?

The lights go out and he continues to wait. 

Only when he can hear your even breathing does he spill out from your closet and into your room, slithering to your bed and inviting himself in. Jonathan sits beside you, carefully moving your arm into his lap to have open access to your lovely veins. He takes care not to blow your vein, a mistake he learned not to make again. It left your arm sore and tender and you had no explanation for it and made you suspicious. He is well versed in your body now; he knows how hard and rough he can play with you before he starts leaving marks. 

He breaks your skin with the pierce of a needle and floods your veins with the newest adjustment to his serum. You whine and squirm beneath the covers. It takes you a moment to settle. He pulls the needle out, thumb coming down to close over the injection site, the smallest trickle of blood circles the imprint of his thumb. 

Fatigue washes at the corners of his mind. He hadn’t planned on spending near this amount of time here. You’re lucky that he feels this need for you, this abhorrent need to possess. It disgusts and confuses and delights him. He’s never felt this way before. He’s looked past all other women, knowing they could never satisfy any need in him, too vapid to keep up with him and his desires and research. But with your sweet, little face and pliant body and mind, he can make room for you in his busy life. You and his projects. That hole that Granny left in his heart, that rotted and festered until his insides were all infected and black, can be filled with you. 

If you were anyone else, he would be done with you. Pump you full of fear toxin until you’re blue in the face and frothing at the mouth. Watch that light drain from your eyes and wait for the death rattle. 

Your breathing rapidly now, short and shallow like you can’t suck in a full breath. An unintended consequence. Your brow draws down and your lips go tight in a grimace. His hand wraps around your throat not to cut off your airflow but to feel the jump in your pulse. 

He wonders what you dream of now, what apparitions your mind has conjured for you in your nightmare. He hopes it’s him or at least the outline of him, something eclipsed in shadow, just a figure stalking you through the dark who watches and waits for the perfect moment to grab you up in his claws. He kisses you on your forehead, the bridge of your nose, and finally lands on your lips. He doesn’t mind the lack of movement. His tongue snakes out to push at the seam of your lips and uses his free hand to push against the sides of your mouth to open up your jaw. He licks into your mouth with caution—he never knows when you’ll bite back. And underneath the taste of toothpaste, he can trace the alcohol and cigarette smoke on your tongue. It’s disgusting. He’s never taken you for a smoker. In all his time with you, he’s never seen as much as a pack of cigarettes hidden in your purse. That’s something he’ll have to remedy. 

He pulls away from you, smug at the sight of his saliva coating you in shine on your face. His hands fall to cup your breasts. Jonathan is a greedy man. He can’t stop with just the look of terror on your face. 

Dirty, filthy, disgusting little boy! Granny used to call him. She would drag him out of bed by the hair of his head and put him over her knee, hitting him with a leather belt on the rear to drive the filthy sin out of him, the same sin his momma had. Should have beaten her like this. Wouldn’t have this awful excuse of a boy wandering around my house. She would beat him until his rear turned red and bled. Always have to clean up your messes, soiling your sheets with your filth. 

Yes, you are the same as him. Greedy, disgusting, filthy. You want this just as bad as he does. He sees your hips writhing and hears your pitchy moans. This is what drew him to you, your sickening mix of confused and fearful arousal. 

He slips his hands under your shirt and plays with your nipples. He tugs and tweaks at them until they are hard and you’re unable to stop pushing yourself into his hands. How beautiful, how sweet. His filthy girl. You are cut from the same cloth. Yes, he knows what you want but he won’t give it to you, that will be your punishment for making him wait. 

Your skin is soft to the touch, tempting him to venture further. He’s bolder now than when he first started this relationship with you. Jonathan moves easier, comfortable in his skin as he touches you. He had been nervous once, could still hear Granny in his head telling him how disgusting he was. The idea of touching your skin with his bare hand sent him reeling and after he’d finally squashed that voice in his head and touched you without the barrier of his gloves in his way, he couldn’t see you for a week.

You filthy boy! Filling your head with such dark wickedness, such perversion. I know what you wanted. You’re just like your mother–a whore!

He pushes a hand beneath the waistband of your underwear, fingers brushing over the thick thatch of hair before pushing them through your folds. Already so wet. You know he’s here and think he will reward you. You thrash in terror, fingers curling in your sheets, and sweat breaks out across your skin. You whimper in his grasp. He circles your clit with a steady rhythm until he has your hips bucking into his hand and wrenches his hand back when you start to seek out pleasure. 

He pulls his hand from your underwear and undoes the button and zipper of his pants. He takes himself in hand. It’s easy and quick, a few strokes and your pinched expression is enough for him. He spills himself over your thigh and smears the mess around. You’ll wake up hungover and won’t ask any questions, chalk it up to being too drunk and too clumsy for your own good. You’ll shower and move on with your day. You’ll go to the zoo and watch the bears lumber around in their enclosures and come home and make lunch to avoid spending more money than you have to. The first is right around the corner, your fridge and pantry will be a little barer for it.

One day, you won’t have to worry about that. He’ll take you away from this dingy apartment, away from everyone that could hurt you–something that should be reserved for him–and keep you. All you would have to do is let him fill you up with fear toxin and love him. Your life would be so much easier that way.

-

You’re a creature of habit. So why are you leaving earlier and earlier in the mornings and coming home later and later? He tries to map out this new routine you seem hellbent on making but he can’t pin you down. You no longer go to the store on Mondays, you don’t go to the movies or out to eat at your usual haunts. On the weekends, you’re never home. He waits and waits, feeling that hole in his heart begin to fester and ooze again. He cuts holes in your clothes and stretches out elastic, he shreds your books to ribbons, breaks your CDs in half. He burns your collection of ticket stubs from the movies and the zoo. He looks upon his destruction with glee and vindication. Jonathan hides back in your closet when he hears the door unlatch. He sits in giddy silence as you take in the mess of your apartment. 

You pick up the pieces with tears in your eyes and wretched, hiccuping breaths. 

It serves you right. 

-

It’s Friday again. You’ve been following your schedule again. You go back to your old habits but you’re more jumpy, skittish if you come home a few minutes later. You look over your shoulder for him, as if you would ever see him coming. 

It’s Friday night and you’re not home. 

It’s two in the morning on Saturday and you’re not home. 

He seethes and riles himself up in the closet. This is it. You’re no longer worth the hassle. There will always be another. (That’s not true and he knows it. You're one of a kind, he’ll never feel the same about anyone else again.)

The door unlocks. You’re giggling and trying to whisper, but he can still hear your drunk slurring. A man laughs. Which way to the bedroom?

Betrayal colors him. He hasn’t been as obvious with his ownership, his presence alone should be enough for you to understand that you belong to him and no other. Hasn’t he done enough? Given you enough? It would have been so easy to take you away from your job, your life, and tucked you away with him in his laboratory, safe and sound in your captivity. He wants you dead, he wants you all to himself. He’s given you too much freedom and he will have to clip your wings, remind you just who you belong to. 

You’re on your back intertwined with him, giggles breaking off into high pitched moans. It should be him making you writhe and moan like that. You belong to him. In the throes of pleasure, you drag the man to lay over your chest and reach up to kiss him. It’s sloppy and he can catch the shine of saliva on yours and his mouth. The petulant thought bullies its way to the front of his mind—that’s his toy, his little mouse, his his his.

Your head lolls to the side, peering straight through the slats of your closet doors at him. Oh and how he forgives you! You don’t know what you’re doing, too confused by your own need that you don’t realize that that’s what he’s here for. Poor, impatient little mouse. You feel the invisible chain linking you to him. He will help you. His girl with starry eyes and a pretty smile. 

He slips from the closet, no longer content to watch and stew in his jealousy. He grabs the fabric shears sitting on your side table and opens the blade. With a tight yank of the man’s shorn hair, Jonathan tugs him up from your chest and slices through the man’s throat ear to ear. He cuts himself on the palm of his hand as he guides the blade. You scream as blood washes over you, holding your hands out to protect yourself from the spray of it. The man weakly bats behind him, trying to get him but as soon as he starts, his hands are back down, hanging limply against his sides. The strong spray begins to slow as he empties himself all over your and your bed. The man gurgles. He throws him off the side of the bed and peers down at you through his burlap mask. 

“You…” you gasp. “You’re real.” You look up at him. Your mouth and chest shine with blood, your eyes wide and frightened. 

“Yes.” He straddles your hips and doses you up with a sedative. It will be dangerous given your alcohol consumption, but he will take good care of you. He always does.

“I thought you were a dream,” you whisper. You cling to his arm as you fade out of consciousness.

“I am. Sleep and continue to dream, little mouse.” He kisses your forehead. “You’re going home.”

-

You come to work with bags under your eyes and lethargy in your steps. You wave off the concerns of your coworkers and assure them that you had some trouble sleeping. They nod, knowing all too well of your sleeping problem. It's been going on for months now, but it’s starting to take a toll on you.

“Maybe Doctor Crane can prescribe you something?”

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to bother him.” You laugh it off, fingers crawling over your forearm to your inner elbow. You smile. “I’ll just get some melatonin and a white noise machine. I’m sure it’s just me taking on too much. Arkham needs another social worker, can’t keep doing this all by myself.”