#STOP THIS IS SO FUCKING MUCH WAS IT ALWAYS LIKE THIS???

[littledes1re]

In the car, in the car, in the backseat, i‘m your baby.

Pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

Summery: it’s summer break and you are spending it by your parent’s house and your father’s best buddy is also there. The one you tried to fuck for years and finally it’s happening.

Warnings: 18+, oral (m!receiving), big teasing, sub!joel, insecure joel, he has some body and age issues, riding him in his car, unprotected sex, praise kink, pet names, m!body worship (hell yea), age gap! (reader is 23, joel is in his late 40’s), Sarah is like 10 in this, no outbreak.

A/N: Still haven’t recovered from that episode and i’m kinda scared of the new one…😀 BUT! First time writing dbf!joel which is like my fav trope on here, this is more smutty than anything but I will write a more angsty one in the future🤞🏻

Summer break at your parents house were not exciting because you saw them again. They were not exciting because of the food your mom would cook, not because of the barbecue party your father threw every time. It wasn’t exciting because you saw your childhood bedroom again, even tho it felt good sleeping there once more as you kind of missed your childhood but no— you were excited about seeing him again.

Joel Miller.

Your fathers best buddy.

He was his best friend for as long as you could remember. They met at the construction company joel owns and since then they were spending every single weekend together. And after Joel broke things up with his wife and got custody over Sarah—his daughter, he somehow became a family member as much as he was visiting and helping around.

This was a huge deal for you.

Joel got so so much hotter after his divorce. He was always hot but after that he suddenly grew more of his beard out, biceps got bigger, he leaned more into the dad bod and he slicked his hair back that slowly turned grey. It was killing you, always having him over for the holidays or some special events, your thoughts were just only on him and they were dirty. But deep down you kinda felt bad. He was a nice and sweet man, doing the best for his daughter and being a best friend for your family, you could trust him with everything. It felt wrong reducing him just for his looks.

But that didn’t stop you. You wanted to fuck him.

And you always tried to. Every god damn year.

You can remember one years ago, you were trying the same thing. A summer break, visiting the family and joel also being there, a sweet little barbecue evening with your family. And after the party ended and the sun slowly start to set, you saw him sitting on the couch, drinking his beer while looking trough his phone.

And hell, he wasn’t stupid.

He saw the way you looked at him hours ago. He saw the was your eyes scanned his body up and down all the time, trying to not catch his gaze as he sat with you on the dinner table, your cheeks blushing whenever he caught you looking. The little summer dress you wore, barely covering knees as you bend over besides him, showing him the panties you wore and doing that so sneakily that so nobody around you saw that.

And you can’t believe how bold you were on that day. As he sat on the couch you came over to him, sitting on down on the other side and putting your legs up, your feet landing on his lap. He sighed, putting his drink and phone down.

“You’re trouble.” He murmured, gripping your ankles and yanking them from his lap earning a gasp from you.

“Heyy, don’t be so mean. I didn’t do anything! Just let me rest my feet.”

“Is that so, hm?” His jaw was clenched, eyebrows pinched he looked at you. The slicked back hair, his tanned skin and his big board shoulders made you absolutely feral.

“Mhm, yea! since when did you become so mean joel? You were always nice to me” you fake pouted, seeing him swallow looking around the room and sighing.

“I was nice to you before you started to cause so much trouble, girl.”

“I don’t even know what you are talking about.” You shrugged your shoulders, acting so clueless. You put your feet back on his lap, precisely on his bulge that you already saw forming on that day many, many times before.

He just looked at you, his face not pleased as he put his hands on your leg and squeezed as a warning and went back on his phone with a disappointed small shook of his head. He couldn’t be mad at you, your father would absolutely tear him to pieces, you knew that.

You were absolutely dripping after that, still feeling the hand on there whenever you thought about it, to this day.

So today you were going to see him again. Already standing in front of your mirror trying to find the best thing to wear, because this time, you were going to fuck this man. Your choice was simple but effective as always. A small white sundress. Perfect for this breezy summer day. And perfect for Joel too, you knew it.

The day began slowly with you helping your mom and dad make the garden as comfortable as possible, table put, chairs, some sweet radio playing summer hits, gras was recently trimmed, a cool box ready to keep beer cool, the beautiful flowers your mom planted saying hello and oh!— There was the doorbell.

He was there.

Excitement run through your body, warmth spread all over you and your cheeks heated as you saw him coming in. Sarah besides him already grown so much.

But you only looked at him.

Almost the same clothes, same board shoulders, huge frame, hair slicked back and his hair and beard got just a tiny bit more grey which made you almost lightheaded. There was this tan on him again, sweat was dripping from his forehead, his hands looked like he just worked hard, he probably came from his job. And his smell. His usual cologne mixed with the smell of the Marlboro reds he always smokes and tad bit of sweat. You were absolutely going feral and if no one saw you in this room you would be drooling.

“Hey, sweets” his rough voice greeted you, opening his arms for a big hug. You embraced him, hugging his huge body tight as you used that opportunity to really inhale his scent and make up for the days you missed him. He kissed the top of your head and let go of the hug, looking at you up and down, his gaze staring a bit too long on your legs. Even tho he acted as normal as possible there was still uncomfortable air between you two.

“And everything alright so far?”

“Yea, everything fine. What about you and sarah?” You asked smiling softly.

“jus’ the same old. Sarah was actually very happy about the gift you send her, so thank you, girl.”

You smiled again, you loved Sarah and never missed her birthdays even tho you were away. She was the sweetest girl and you loved spending time with her whenever you could.

“That’s why she avoiding me right now? Where is she?” You looked around the room.

“Ah there she comes again, got a little sweet treat from your mom I suppose.” He chuckled as Sarah walked to you a bonbon in her hand and the biggest smile, she hugged you.

The day was going well. So far.

You were playing with Sarah while the "grown-ups" sat at the table, talking about everything they've missed lately. Every time you heard his voice, however, you looked for his eyes. But he absolutely wasn't looking at you. He laughed a lot, talked a lot, but never looked over to meet your eyes. You could just feel the way he wanted to avoid you, to make it really seem like nothing happened and maybe you were just messing with him. But you were not going to let this go so easily.

“Sweetheart, can you go with Joel? While he buys the charcoal, you buy this list I made you.”

Jackpot.

This is the moment you were waiting for. An opportunity. On Joel’s face you could read how he was absolutely not fond of this idea. Your father needed charcoal for the grill and conveniently, Joel wanted to be the one to get it with his truck and even more conveniently was it for your mother to want you to go with him so you could buy a few groceries that were still needed for the party.

But joel couldn’t just say no. Your parents knew that you two had a good relationship so they would question on why he would not want to go with you.

So you and joel made your way to his truck, he did not once look at you or talked to you. He completely avoided you just like the whole day but you knew this was going to change.

It’s been so long since you were in his car, he was a clean man so nothing changed, everything still smelled like leather, a picture of sarah hanging on his mirror, with that an air refresher.

The windows were open, you were enjoying the fresh summer breeze as he drove to the next best grocery store, still not even looking or talking to you. But him driving was another level of hot. His big arm on the steering wheel, flexing his muscles, one hand on his chin as he looked concentrated to the streets. Eyebrows pinched and all grumpy.

You laid a tiny bit back on your seat, gently and sneaky putting the hem of your dress up till it reached your thighs. You opened a little bit your legs, laid your head on your hand and leaned to the door, sighing trying to get his attention.

You saw his grip getting tighter on the wheel, his expression changing into that of someone who was barely controlling himself. And then you caught him, just with a little side eye he looked down on your thighs.

You got him.

He was sweating more than usual beside you, you could see the little pearls forming on his forehead, his jaw was clenched and the concentration he built while driving away from your house completely left him.

You bit your lips, tracing your hand up and down your thigh slowly. Making circles, teasing yourself and him.

“Joel.” You called out, your hand still on your thigh as you looked at him with a pout and tried your best to put on your pretty doe eyes.

He first looked at you, trying to act like his bulge wasn’t growing in his pants and then his eyes fell to your thighs again, he followed your hand going up and down, he cleared his throat and then swallowed.

Poor guy.

“What.” He murmured his voice not pleased and not kind like as you greeted him today. You wonder what happened.

“How long till we arrive? I’m hot.”

You saw him rolling his eyes, sighing as he turned his head to you.

“Rolled the windows for you down, ain’t that enough girl? We arrive in like 5 minutes, be patient.”

His tone was stern and you didn’t except him to be this harsh by the way he was talking with you. So you crossed your arms and looked at him, trying to act all angry but in a playful manner. His face didn’t change a bit, he didn’t give you a smile, a wink, nothing. His eyebrows were still pinched and jaw clenched he drove you two to the store and parked.

He walked in straight without saying nothing, he was fast, doing everything to avoid you.

It had been 10 minutes and you already had the things your mom put into the list she gave you and now you waited for Joel. You didn’t even know where he was, let alone when he was coming. So you tried to catch his attention.

You stood there and spoke to an employee, a normal young guy who doesn’t look older than 23. You turned a strand of hair on your finger, leaning to the side and laughed about nonsense, making it seem like you were flirting. And then you saw him.

He was standing there with narrowed eyes the charcoal in one of his hand and the other one on his hip. He stood there jaw clenched looking like he was trying to control himself not to take apart the poor guy you were talking to.

“Girl, c’mon now. We ain’t got all day.” He suddenly almost yelled to you. The boy you were talking to flinched and you had to suppress a giggle.

As he paid for the stuff you walked to the car again and waited for him to come. He came with the two bags in his hands, opening the cockpit and putting the things in. But he suddenly stopped there, looking to you as he wanted to say something.

“What?” You asked

“You’re gonna get us both in trouble.”

“What the hell are you even talking about?” You still tried to act all clueless.

“Sweetheart. I know what ya’ doin’. It ain’t gonna work on me.“ his voice sounded softer but he was being serious.

“It’s already working tho.” You pointed down to his bulge, biting your lips by doing so.

He looked around the parking spot, his whole face flushing red. You kinda fell bad for him, exposing him like that but he was giving you a hard time so one way or another it had to happen.

“You get in the fucking car.” He suddenly spit out, you heard his loud boots walking to you as he quickly grabbed your arm and yanked you to the passenger seat.

“Hey! Ow, that hurt, you asshole.” You muttered out, as he sat you down on the seat and put your seat belt on.

He didn’t even say anything after that, he was furios. The car started as you sat there with crossed arms and this time being really angry and disappointed at him. The car suddenly slowed down and he looked at you, his gaze softening and a sigh leaving his lips.

“Baby, I don’t even know what you want from a man like me.” He said, his voice sounding genuine and warm.

You looked at him dumbfounded

“Look got all these grey hair, haven’t been able to go to the barber shop for god knows how long and I trim my beard but it’s still messy, and heck— look— look at my body. Ain’t the one I was once.”

Your eyes widened. He wasn’t being serious right now, right? You have never seen a more handsome man than him and that after he started to look like how he just described. He was waiting for an answer with those big puppy dog eyes, from his stern and harsh manner was no trace left.

Instead of an answer, you slowly and gently neared your hand on his thigh. Feeling the rough material of his jeans underneath your fingertips, you softly stroked his thigh. You heard him shudder under his breath, his body sitting up, just like his cock. The bulge was growing just more and you wanted to tease him more.

But most importantly you wanted to show him how pretty he is.

“Ain’t gonna let me go so easily, huh?” He mumbled softly, earning a giggle and a shook of your head.

You leaned over, putting your seatbelt away and slowly unbuttoned his flannel shirt. His breath hitched, suddenly steering the car towards the side and stopping it on the field of gras.

He dropped his hands from the wheel and let you fully take control. You opened his shirt, greeted with a beautiful body, the one you just dreamed of having on top of you. His chest hairy going down to his soft belly and then a pretty salt and pepper happy trail. You were drooling.

You didn’t waste any time as you softly rubbed your hands over his chest, leaning in to gently kiss him, working yourself down, kissing his belly and happy trail.

“Jesus christ, girl.” His head was thrown back but he was watching you. You hummed, biting down his breast, then neck, and suckling on his skin. His breathing was coming quickly, you could feel his poor heart beating at a higher rate.

“You don’t even know.” You mumbled, slightly standing up and kneeling on your seat, now your body was completely turned to him and this way you had full access to his body.

“Don’t even know how fucking sexy you are.”

One of your hand went to his bulge squeezing him earning a groan and a desperate buck of his hips. Your mouth continued to work on his tanned body, kissing his collarbones, nipping at his skin.

He was whining.

“Sweet girl.” He groaned as he made his way to your waist, squeezing you there then making a stop on your back because now you were unbuckling him. Pulling his pants down, you gently stroked his hardened cock through his shorts, seeing a small spot getting wet, knowing it’s pre cum. You decided to tease him more as you pulled his briefs slightly down so his bush was out. Your face diving into the hair, kissing him and smothering in it while rubbing his shaft up and down. Slowly you licked your way from his happy trail to his chest to his neck and then landed on his lips.

You kissed him, catching him by surprise as he moaned into your mouth. Hot breaths left him, your hand never stopping on his dick. He took your cheeks into his hands and deepened the kiss, messily making out with you. It was unbearable for you too. You finally had him where you wanted, as his beautiful lips kissed you, you drooled down your chin, bit landing on his briefs, mixing with the pre cum that was already oozing out of the material.

Whining out loud you broke the kiss, taking in deep breaths as he looked at you. His puppy eyes, trying not to squeeze with pleasure, his lower lip trembling.

“Baby—fuck. What are you doing to me hm?” He took your chin between his fingers.

“If your daddy finds out what we are doin’, whatcha gonna say to him?”

“That his best buddy’s cock was hardening every time I was around and that I decided to help him out.” You shrugged your shoulders, smirking at him as he looked at you dumbfounded, he was clenching his jaw, veins popping up on his neck, he was close.

You pulled his shorts finally down. Revealing his big cock, red and switching. He could never be insecure, that was a blatant lie. He was beautiful, the big mushroom head red and glistening, veins trailing down and his big salt and pepper bush was covering his balls.

You squeezed your own thighs to relieve some friction. Gently grabbing the base of his shaft, you squeezed to the top, smearing the pre cum on his tip earning a big hiss. He gripped your arm tighter, the other hand gripping the car door.

You looked at him through your eyelashes batting them one and two times before starting with kitten licks on his head. You kissed down, licked and enjoyed the way he was a big mess under you.

“Please, fuck— please baby.” His voice was coming out shaky, the rough man from before was now completely gone.

You smiled, finally opening your mouth and taking him in. Swirling your tongue first around his tip then slowly sinking and hollowing your cheeks as you went up and down. His hips were bucking into your mouth as he released moan after moan.

“Y’look so fucking beautiful, sweets. So fucking beautiful.” He said through gritted teeth.

Your one hand wrapped around his base, and the other one down his balls, taking them and messaging them. Joel’s eyes were shut down as the pleasure overcame him. You felt him pulse one and two times on your tongue and he was shooting his cum into your mouth.

He gripped your hair, putting it in a ponytail and gently moved your head up and down the way he liked. His legs were shaking and his chest was going up and down as he released his last drops of sperm and let go of your hair, taking a deep breath and laying there almost boneless.

You swallowed, gently stroking him for a few more times and then letting him go soft, laying his dick down. You sat up, seeing his face being all soft and sweaty. His eyes droopy and breathing heavy. He looked fucked out. And you didn’t even fuck him yet.

Your hand slowly traced down your dress, as you sat down, leaned back and strategically removed your soaked panties. You held them in front of his face, swaying them left to right, making him chuckle.

“S’that what ya wanted the whole time? Tempting me right in front of your daddy.”

“Mhm, s’what I wanted, joel.” You mumbled, your body laid on your seat as you opened your legs, your fingers finding your soaked pussy, gathering some of the wetness and bringing it slowly to his mouth.

He immediately opened them and sucked on your fingers, his cock starting to pulse again, as you giggled.

“Don’t even know how long, I wanted you joel. Always made myself cum by thinking of you.”

You pulled your fingers out, going down to your cunt again and hooking them in, gently thrusting them in and out while whining into the car.

“Fuck baby. Can’t say shit like that. If I knew you were serious I would’ve already took you to the bathroom, bent you over and fucked you.”

His hand pulled the hem of your dress up, revealing your swollen cunt to him. He gently laid one thumb on your clit and started rubbing in a steady place.

“Hmph— was always serious. Always wanted you to fuck me always, always.” Now you were the one turning into a mess as your fingers pumped in your pussy, his thumb pressing and rubbing just the perfect way.

His other hand took his cock into his hand, jerking up and down, his shaft harding again as the sweat on his face began again.

“C’mon, c’mere then.” His hand left your cunt, going to your waist and gripping you so you could move. You stopped your movements and obligated, carefully going over his lap and standing on top of him. He rubbed his cock up and down your cunt, gently smearing the tip on your little nub as you tried your best to holding yourself up, grabbing his shoulder and moaning his name out.

“Gonna fuck you nice baby, so nice. Just like you’ve been waiting for.”

With that he gently pushed his cock into your hole, the stretch slightly burning you as you slowly and steadily sunk into his lap. You both squeezed your eyes shut as you enjoyed the slow place of his cock entering your pussy.

You looked at him, your mouth gaping open, as you run your hands trough his beautiful hair.

“Shh, take it, yea baby. Yeah. I know. Begging for it so long and now taking it so good.”

His praise was echoing in your head, not leaving as you sat down his lap, his dick now fully buried in you. The stretch was too good, you truly felt full of him.

He didn’t leave you time before bucking his hips in need, little breaths leaving his lips. He suddenly latched himself on your neck, gently nipping at the skin, careful enough so he wouldn’t leave any marks for your parents to see and while doing that he massaged your tits trough the fabric of your dress.

You whined out, slowly getting used to his stretch and him slowly figuring out a good pace to steadily fuck into you. His cock going in and out as his big rough hands were deliciously tight on your hips, they were going to leave marks for sure.

You ran your hand trough his hair once more but this time tugging it gently away from your neck, revealing his pleasure blissed face, cheeks flushed red, the sweat making his hair and beard wet as he gave you these pretty ‘fuck me’ eyes.

“Take what you need baby, there you go.” He whispered as you took the lead. Your hips now going with a rhythm, fucking yourself on his cock, hips bucking and tits bouncing up and down as the car filled with you two’s moans and whines both desperate and pathetically trying to chase the high you guys deserve.

“Poor fucking man. Fuck— haven’t been taken care of for so so long.”

“Yea, baby.” He could only agree, his gaze never leaving you. You could literally see sparks in his eyes, totally mesmerised by you and the way you were handling his cock.

“Gonna take care of you from now on. Not gonna leave without empty balls, joel. Man like you need all the lovin’ they can get. Wanna see your cock bent after a while at how much i’m taking care of you.”

He grunted, almost releasing at that but you stopped with your hips, leaving him high almost at his orgasm. He was breathing out, whimpering and shaking as you took his cheeks into your hands and gently stroked the skin.

“You don’t even know how handsome you are, so fucking sexy.” You murmured, his eyes turning into those sad doe eyes again, clearly unsure and not excepted the way you were thinking about him.

“You understand?” You asked him, pinching his cheeks together as he nodded his head up and down.

“Mhm. Yea—yeah. Understood.” He breathlessly said, his hips starting to buck into you again, seemingly wanting to finally release and get the satisfaction he totally earned.

You leaned back to the steering wheel so you could get access to your clit, gently rubbing the nub he fucked up to you again, finding his pace once more. His gaze never left yours as his cock deliciously touched that one spot over and over again, making you roll your eyes.

“Gonna take care of you too hun. Feed you my cock whenever you want, fillin’ you up so it makes up for the times i’ve left you hanging.”

You whined at that, nodding your head up and down, whispering a little ‘please’ out.

“So pretty, look at that. Just enjoying her sweet fucking, rubbing her little clit and taking care of her man.”

Now he was the one who suddenly got a mouth on him. You thought maybe he wasn’t that talkative but apparently you were wrong. You felt his cock switch in your cunt, knowing he was close and you were too.

“In me—please. In me.” You whimpered out, your legs shaking and his thrusting growing sloppier and sloppier, he harshly tugged you into him making you yelp. He held your hips tighter then before, his groans and moans getting louder and louder.

“C’mon baby, c’mon. Cum. Show me how good this pussy takes care of her man.” He said into your ear and that was it. Your legs completely shook, as a sharp cry left your mouth. You squeezed your eyes shut as the waves of the release washed upon you, making you feel almost dizzy at how good it felt.

He thrusted as much as he could one and two more times, making you ride out your orgasm as he stilled and released into you. His face burying in your neck, chest going up and down and silent groans and whimpers leaving his mouth. You let yourself get filled, enjoying the fullness and coming down from your climax as you gently stroked his hair, slowly moving your hips at the rate at which his cock was shooting his cum and after it getting soft in you, you stopped gently kissing his cheeks and neck, while softly praising him.

“Mhm, we are so fucked baby. Look at how messy we are, how are we going to go back to your parents?”

You giggled at that, shrugging your shoulders at him, enjoying the quiet after the storm and finally having his presence near you, just like you wanted.

You finally fucked him.

I actually don’t really like reading sub!male but I don’t know what got into me in this fic, I think it fits very well. Feedback is very much appreciated and AAA thank you so much for 300 followers🥹😭

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🫶🏻🫶🏻 @vickie5446 @a-goose-on-mars @thatgirlmendo @ihearttdilfs

[okwonyo]

DREAMIN’ ★ 𝗂’𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎

💌 make–out session with your boyfriend

of. enhypen kissing fem ! rea ◜ᴗ⁠◝⁠ fluff established relationship ❤︎ skinship kissing ╱ 사랑｡

��지 ܃ i’m normal

REBLOG FOR A MWAH ！

HEESEUNG ｡｡ “you are so pretty baby,” after trailing kisses all over your neck, he admires your face held in his hands as he says so. he chuckle at the pink taint that appears on your cheeks at the compliment. there is a smirk on his face that makes your heart stutter, before his lips are back on yours again to continue your passionate makeout session.

he hold your face in his hands as his mouth moves against yours. surely, he makes your back hit the wall behind you. there is something that flutters in your stomach and you are too drunk on his tongue in your mouth to think properly; therefore, he takes the lead.

he holds your jaw and tilts your head to side to have a better access to your mouth. you hold onto his shirt for dear life. his lips are warm against your and the way he kisses is as perfect as your boyfriend. his body presses against your more as the kisses goes on, he doesn’t stop until your lips are sore.

JAY ｡｡ he knows he shouldn’t stare at you for too long. he knows that whenever you get ready to go out, whenever you wear a pretty dress like that, whenever you put on those pretty jewels of yours that makes your skin glow, whenever you are high on heels— he shouldn’t look at you too much.

unfortunately for the both of you, he never understands the lesson. he always ends up staring. he always end up ruining your lip combo. “i’m sorry, princess,” he whispers against your mouth as he walks backwards. he looks up at you with a desperate gaze. his mind is blurred by the smell of your perfume, of the soft, peachy scent of your conditioner.

your knees digs in the sofa, next to his thighs after he makes you sit on his laps. he slips his hand on your naked skin, the one that isn’t cover by your dress. his parts his lips, humming, allowing your tongue to slip in. dear god, your friends are going to kill you for being so late.

JAKE ｡｡he is gentle as he makes you both fall on the mattress. he plants his hands on either side of your head. you gasp when he plants a kiss on your cheek, then a soft peck on your forehead, on your nose, on the corner of your mouth. his focus quickly shifts to your lips where he rests his lips for a delicate kiss.

he stops to take a lingering look at your face from above you, “holy shit,” he breathes out, shakily. he leans in and when his lips brush yours, right before giving you another kiss, he speaks again, “you are so gorgeous.”

he doesn’t give you time to answer. he is all over you within seconds. he bites your lower hip to make him part your lips, to slide his tongue in between them. his kiss is more passionate that the ones he was giving you a few moments prior. his hands are wandering everywhere. it makes your knees weak although you are laying in your back, your mind goes blank and he takes your breath away.

SUNGHOON ｡｡ his heartbeat stopped for a few seconds when you entered the kitchen. freshly showered, with your skin glowing as you value a good nightly skincare routine, the scent of your soap clinging on your body as well as your conditioner’s. his eyes dragged over your body enveloped in those cute pajamas that drive him insane.

he corned you between the kitchen counter and himself in mere seconds. his body moved on it’s own— even him was shocked at how fast he reached you. the cute surprised expression made him kiss you immediately. he hummed into your mouth as your fingers ran through his hair, his lips tasting the chapstick on yours.

he curses under his breath as he lifts you of the floor, “fuck,” he whines into your mouth, making you sit on the kitchen counter to have an easier access to your mouth. you can’t tell what has gotten into him, but you love it.

SUNOO ｡｡ in all honesty, he knew how it was going to end from the beginning. he knew that at some point, the movie night was going to transform into something more passionate. he wanted to kiss you as soon as you sat next to him on the sofa and even more when you rested your cheek on his chest.

the movie was long forgotten by him. the sound of the characters talking in the television didn’t reach his ears, no. he was too focused on you and your hands cupping his face. you maintain him on the sofa with your body on top of his. he holds you by the hips, get drunk on the taste of your lips.

he is always hungry for kisses, for yours especially. the moment it starts, the moment your pretty lips sucks his lower one, he can’t think of stopping. he feels dizzy and lightheaded for not pulling away to breath but he wants more. his leans in yours whenever you want to pull away. he needs kisses.

JUNGWON ｡｡ your boyfriend is always so helplessly greedy when it comes to kissing. as if his mouth is empty without yours against his. he holds onto your waist possessively, for dear life. you think that he fears you might disappear into thin air if he doesn’t have your body close. but you won’t, because his greediness might have contaminated you.

his mouth his firm yet soft as he takes your breath away. with your arms wrapped around his neck and your body being so close to his, you could feel the shared thud of your heartbeats. only wet sounds of your lips smashing together fills the room as you make out in the middle of it.

you run your fingers through his soft hair while his lips cover your own. your body goes progressively limp when you taste each other’s want more and more. if not wasn’t for his strong grip on you, your entire body would concede on you under the gentle pressure of his tongue in your mouth.

RIKI ｡｡kissing always makes him go a little go stupid, a little bit too empty in the head. when he gets the flavor of your lipgloss on his tongue, he doesn’t know where he is anymore. he only knows you, your mouth, your hands all over him and your hot body so close to his. “i need to go,” he whispers between two kisses, although he is the one who goes right back into kissing.

he is so passionate, like in everything he does. it always makes you giggle—“okay,” is the only thing you can say when he is so eager to give you a taste of his tongue. warmth blossoms in your chest as you smell the cologne he put on his skin while he was getting ready to go out. his mouth moves on yours so perfectly, it makes you dizzy.

you think that he forgot that he wasn’t supposed to be doing that right now. he was already late before leaving and now that he is lifting you off the floor to make you reach his height— or even a little taller— it isn’t better. as he is busy kissing you open your eyes slightly and catch the flush on his cheeks. it makes you smile. the next hour is going to be passionate.

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[illyrianbitch]

Breathe

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel has a panic attack. You help him through it.

Warnings: panic attack pov, symptoms of anxiety (heavy breathing, dissociation, bad mean internal narration), lots of talks of fear, breathing exercises, comfort/care

Word Count: 3.6k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Azriel didn’t notice it at first— not really. 

But his shadows did. 

They curled in close, drawn silent and taut, as if bracing for something, getting ready to soothe him like a newborn babe.

It always started quiet. Or, it used to, when it happened more often. Like pressure building— something soft at first, something creeping.

Azriel shifted in his seat at the end of the table, half in shadow as he often was.  

He blinked once. Twice. 

He realized, rather quickly, that he was too warm.

Not the kind of warm that settled into your bones on a sunny day. Not comfort. No, this was the kind of warmth that crawled across his skin. Under it. Sticky, stifling. His leathers suddenly felt too tight, like his chest couldn’t fully expand. 

He shifted again, pushing himself to focus on Rhysand’s voice once more. On the words his brother, his High Lord, was speaking.

Nothing was wrong. Not really.  He was seated where he always sat, in the same chair, in the same meeting room, listening to the same details about the same rotations and intelligence reports. Nothing was out of place. Everything was all as doomed, as dismal, and as hopeless as it had been recently. 

They were losing a war. And Azriel knew it. 

The conversation turned toward intelligence failures– intercepted reports, broken leads.

Azriel couldn’t stop his thoughts from growing louder. Faster. Those were another failure on him. On his abilities, his spies. He’d fucked up. Again, and again. The one thing he was good at, the one thing he was supposed to do— and he couldn’t. 

No, no. Stop. He couldn’t afford to think like that. He’d been doing better. Azriel, deep in his rational mind, knew it wasn’t his fault. Not entirely, at least. Koschei was unpredictable. His devoted followers hadn’t been something anyone could’ve predicted — Children of the Blessed who had found another ruler to worship. Another god to bow to. That wasn’t on him.

But it was… wasn’t it? It felt like a failure.

His shadows stilled around him, began calling to him in the way only they could. But Azriel couldn’t pay attention. His mouth was dry now. His hands were cold.

And there was something curling in his chest. A pressure. A discomfort. A wrongness inside him, like something off-center. He was sure of it. A flaw, like some thread pulled too tight. 

Az tried to anchor himself. Tried to focus on the sound of his brother’s voices, the crinkle of paper beneath his hand. But his thoughts were racing ahead — spiraling. 

The room was too loud.

He gripped the edge of the table. Attempted to draw in a deep breath. When it resisted, when his lungs protested against the strain of his ribs— broken many times before, he opted for flexing his fingers. Uncurled them. Tried to breathe through it once more.

This was pathetic, Az thought bitterly, the sharpness of his own anger swallowing up all other thoughts. The soft voice that tried to tell him he wasn’t to blame for everything was drowned out. It sounded so much like a younger version of himself. And something else, too— a voice that sounded awfully like his mother. 

Azriel had been fine this morning. Hadn’t he? 

So why, now, was he in such pain? Why was his throat tight? Why couldn’t he breathe?

He needed to breathe.

None of this was real. It was all in his head. It would pass. 

He was fine, he repeated in his mind, even as his wings twitched– betraying him before he could catch them. A subtle flex at first, a slight stiffening in his membrane. Defensive, instinctual. 

He tucked them in closer to his back, as if he could subconsciously make himself smaller, less visible. 

He was losing it. Gods, he was losing it and he couldn’t even stand without drawing attention—without someone noticing, without Rhys or Cassian giving him that look.

His wings spasmed again—this time sharper, a visible shudder that raced down the spine between them. Panic, the primal kind, began to bleed into the edges of his breathing.

Not real. Not real. He clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached.

He barely noticed when Rhysand’s voice faded into nothing, when the world outside of his own body dulled to a low hum. His vision blurred, not outwardly—no, that would’ve been merciful—but inside his mind. Thought tangled over thought until all that remained was one screaming, splintered thing: move.

Azriel refused to give in to that weaker, fearful side. He refused.

So, instead, he forced himself to lift his head– to act like he was still present. He gripped the edge of the table harder, forcing another breath through lungs that refused to expand. He forced his body to stay still even as every part of him screamed to run.

His eyes caught yours immediately.

You weren’t speaking. You hadn’t been speaking for a while—Az realized dimly that you’d fallen silent when he had.

You were staring at him, a brow furrowed in confusion, eyes darkened with worry. Real, devastating worry— written across your face like you’d felt his unraveling in your bones, like you knew exactly what he was fighting.

You always did that, Az thought briefly. Noticed things. Noticed him. Even when he tried to disappear, buried himself in shadows and distance and the anger only he knew how to hone, you still saw him.

And you were another thing he’d fucked up. Another thing, another person, he’d failed.

His panic hit him like a punch to the chest.

A wild, churning thing inside him lurched loose—sharp and wrong and too much.

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. 

Not here. Not now.

Azriel tried to push to his feet smoothly, tried not to let the room tilt sideways around him. The scrape of his chair on the floor was deafening. His wings flared slightly behind him — a startled, instinctive reaction — before he forced them down again with trembling effort.

He didn’t meet anyone’s eyes. Couldn’t.

He just needed to get out. Get out.

By the time he stumbled into the hallway, the panic was a roaring thing in his chest. His wings kept twitching, muscles seizing like they couldn’t decide whether to shield or flee. His shadows seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat, gathering in dark, frantic swirls at his feet, then dissipating and flickering against the walls, like they were trying—desperately—to anchor themselves, to pull him out of the fear gripping him.

The world narrowed to the thud of his boots and the pain in his chest. He was shaking now — his hands, his arms, his breath. He couldn’t get a full inhale. He couldn’t slow down. His mind was spiraling. He didn’t know where he was going.

Get out. Just get out. Get out get out get out.

He reached the end of the corridor, but his vision was still tunneling. He staggered sideways, shoulder slamming into the wall. They were getting closer. Tighter.

Get out.

He needed air. Real air.

Needed out.

He winnowed. All instinct, like a broken wild animal on the run from something it knew it couldn’t beat. And then—he landed. He didn’t even know where he was going until the cold hit him.

Dirt. Grass. Night air.

He fell to his knees in it.

Hard.

It knocked the breath out of him. He doubled over, fingers clawing into the earth. Trying to ground. Trying to focus. Trying to breathe.

Stupid. Stupid. This doesn’t happen. You’re fine. You’re not a child.

But he couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t stop the rising panic clawing up his throat.

You’re a joke. You’re unraveling. You’re slipping and they’re going to see. You’re a liability. A fucking mess. You’re going to ruin everything—

He shouldn’t have been like this — he’d trained for worse, he’d handled worse. His shadows crowded him, trying to ground him, to pull him back, just as they did when he was three hundred and covered in blood. Twenty-two and angry. Eight and afraid.

It didn't work. They were just more noise. The pressure behind Azriel’s ribs sharpened. His skin itched. He couldn't tell if it was sweat or fear crawling over him.

A cold wind rushed over his skin, sudden and powerful. And for a second—just a second—it grounded him.

Then the panic surged again. Harder.

His fingernails dug further into dirt, the movement straining and pulling at the tight skin at his hands, the raw tendons and everything that was wrong with him. 

He couldn’t fucking see anything. Couldn’t focus. Azriel was sure his heart was breaking itself against his ribs. He pressed his forehead to the ground, desperate to disappear into it. The skin between his shoulders was buzzing, crawling with invisible ants. The old, familiar impulse to tear his way free, to snap bone and tendon if it meant getting out—getting away—scratching out the thing inside him he couldn't reach.

Somewhere, deep in the marrow of him, the boy he'd once been was crying. Somewhere, even deeper, the soldier he'd become was roaring at him to stay still, stay quiet, get over it.

Azriel was vaguely aware of the wetness on his cheeks. Of a choked gasp that sounded too much like him. His shadows were scared now, concerned, louder as if they were trying to be louder than the voice in his head. But it was no use. 

His body was too small and the panic was too big.

And then—

A sound. A shape.

His name, maybe.

But it didn’t sound right. Didn't sound like anything.

It felt, almost, as if Az was trying to hear underwater— trying to breathe it in and choke.

He jerked away from the voice, instinctual. He didn't want to be seen. Not like this.

But then it came again. Warm. Gentle. Familiar. His shadows darted towards it.

“Azriel?”

And for the first time, he felt it. Felt you.

His eyes blinked open—wild, unfocused—but the world began to sharpen.

Not all at once. Not clearly, at least. But enough. Enough to see you there, from the corner of his eye, approaching him slowly, breath white in the cold air. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head, and pressed his palms flatter against the earth. His wings half-flared without permission. 

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

It wasn’t working.

You’re weak. You’re not enough.

Your failures are going to get them all killed. Koschei. Koschei. Koschei. What if he kills them all? 

A flutter of heat brushed against his shoulder. He briefly registered the movement, somehow coherent enough to piece together the fact that you were crouching beside him. He could only imagine how pathetic he looked, a warrior, a spy— a feared male brought to his knees by his own damaged mind. 

For one harrowing moment, he wanted to snarl at you. To bare his teeth and tell you to go where you’re needed, to leave him alone— Because he didn’t want your pity. He didn’t want your help. He didn’t want to admit that he needed it. If he admitted it now, so vulnerable and exposed in front of you— embarrassingly so— you’d realize, for a second time, he wasn’t worth it. 

But he would never do that. He didn’t want to push you away again. 

A wave of shame hit him flat in the chest—flooding his system. Azriel forced his wings against his back until the muscles screamed. He gave a tight shake of his head, managed to say between jagged breaths, "I'm fine. Go home."

Your hand hovered at his back, near his wings. Gently pressed. He was shaking. 

He turned his face away. “Please.”

“Azriel,” you said again. Closer. 

Something crumbled in him when his shadows returned to his wrists, floating in soothing circles. He squeezed his eyes shut. Breathe. He just needed to breathe. Count, like his mother always taught him to. Trace the patterns of his shadows. 

But gods, it wasn’t working.

“I can’t,” Azriel rasped. His voice was barely there. 

A few seconds later, your hand was on his cheek, thumb brushing his jaw. You tilted his face toward yours.

“I’m right here,” you said. Your eyes were wide. Pleading, almost. Like he was lost and you were begging for him to find you again. 

And he would, wouldn't he? Find you, that was. In every lifetime. 

He blinked. It didn’t feel real. He didn’t deserve this tender touch.

 “Az, can you look at me?”

“I can’t—I can’t—”

“Can’t what?” 

You reached up, brushing a hand through the strands of his hair at the front — a soft, slow rake of your fingers like you were trying to soothe him back to himself. The touch startled him. His eyes opened wider, found yours again, even as his chest still heaved with shallow, broken breaths.

“I’m—” he sucked in a breath, but it hitched, harsh and shallow. “I’m not okay.  I’m— I’m scared and I don’t know what I’m doing and I can’t keep pretending—”

He was unraveling. Words spilling out of him like blood from a wound.

“I’m not enough. I’m not—stable. I can’t help with Koschei. I can’t find anything. People are dying. I’m letting everyone down and—fuck—” he squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t breathe—”

You shifted without hesitation, lowering yourself to your knees before him, so you could meet him at eye level. Gently, delicately, you reached for one of his hands — still clawed into the dirt like an animal — and began to uncurl his fingers from the earth. He shifted his position with the movement. 

He blinked again at the sensation, disoriented, his brows furrowing as you guided his hand up and placed it over your chest. Over your heart. And covered it with your own.

“Feel that?” you whispered, taking an exaggerated deep breath. His hand rose with the motion. “All that air coming into my lungs. It’s really nice, Az. Refreshing. Don’t you think?”

He nodded. Or thought he did. It was hard to tell where his body was.

“I want you to breathe with me. Can you do that?”

He swallowed hard. His lungs still fought him. But he would try. Gods, for you — he would always try.

You inhaled again, slow and deep, and he followed — or tried to. Again. And again. Until something in his lungs finally loosened, like a muscle unclenching.

He closed his eyes.

The panic didn’t vanish. But it ebbed. Enough to come back into his body. Enough to feel the weight of the earth, the throb of his heart. The gentleness in your touch. His wings gradually relaxed. His other hand stopped trembling against the grass.

When he opened his eyes, he found yours already waiting.

And for the first time in what felt like hours, he could see you. Not through panic. Just… you.

His hand twitched under yours. You interlaced your fingers, pressing his palm against your skin even firmer. Finally, Azriel took a deep breath. A proper one. Felt the refreshing night air fill his lungs. 

And when you smiled — soft and aching and full of something he couldn’t name — he felt the last of the panic slip out of his bones.

He realized, with excruciating clarity, exactly where he was now. Realized that he was touching you. That you were so close. That somehow, impossibly, despite everything he’d ruined, you were here. 

He almost forgot to breathe again.

You shifted your free hand up slightly, brushing it back through his hair — a tender, absentminded thing, like it was instinct for you now. 

“There we go,” you said softly. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

Azriel took advantage of his proximity to take you in— the curve of your mouth, the way the moonlight caught the shine of your hair. How close you were to him, how real it felt. It was almost enough to make him believe he had died after all— that this was some kind of fragile heaven he wasn’t meant to keep, a dream created by a brain deprived of oxygen. 

He let out a breath. His body went lax, sinking into the earth. Into you.

You glanced back at him again, your hand still in his hair, and for a moment, neither of you moved. He studied your face like he could memorize it all over again — the faint crease between your brows, the tremble you were trying to hide in your jaw, the way your eyes softened when you caught him looking.

Something inside him cracked open wider.

His gaze dropped to your lips. Then to your eyes. And then his gaze dropped once more, landing on where his hand still rested over your heart, your smaller one covering his. Without thinking, Azriel brushed his thumb across your skin. A slow, reverent sweep. He felt it immediately— the sudden, sharp skip of your heartbeat under his hand. 

“Your heart,” Azriel whispered, “It’s...beating really fast.”

You let out a small breath, almost a laugh. “Yeah,” you murmured, giving him a sheepish, crooked little smile.

“Why?”

Azriel swore he caught the faintest tint of pink at your cheeks.

“It tends to do that around you.”

Something inside him stumbled, caught on a beat he didn’t recognize. "Oh," he breathed out.

A few moments passed. And then, slowly, you shifted — separating just enough to ease down beside him. Azriel mourned the loss of your touch, of his hand on your skin. He settled into a similar position, watching as you tucked your knees to your chest and rested your head lightly atop them. 

The silence that followed felt easy. Comforting. Azriel was grateful for it, despite his longing to touch you again. His breaths, now more regular, were still slowly coming back to him. 

You turned to look at him, your cheek pressed against your knees. “What happened, Az?” 

Azriel squeezed his eyes shut. Shook his head once, almost imperceptibly.

Out of everyone, you were the only one he'd ever truly opened up to about these episodes. These small attacks — flashes of terror, of helplessness — they'd started creeping back after the second war against Hybern. A strange, ugly pattern.

He hated them. Hated the way they made him feel: weak, broken, like he was still the trembling boy locked away in a lightless cell. But he’d been doing better. He had been. And now — this — it felt like a step backward. Like a fall from a cliff he'd barely managed to climb. He felt like a failure. Like a burden.

“I…I don’t know. I just…”

He looked at you then. Really looked. At the way your eyes urged him to go on. And somehow, his thoughts came easier. More honest. 

The truth was — Azriel had spent most of his life benefiting from the image of someone fearless. The cold, steady blade in the dark. The one who didn’t flinch.

But Azriel was afraid all the time.

He moved through his fear like a second skin — worked off it, thrived off it. Fear of losing someone. Fear of being weak again. Fear of being proven wrong. Fear of being left behind. It sat in him like something feral, something sharp-toothed and restless, always on the edge of recognition.

He knew fear the way an animal knew the shift of the wind before a storm.

And lately, it was starting to take more than it gave. 

He hated it. Hated that for all the years he'd spent learning to master it, it still had the power to master him.

“I hate this,” Azriel said finally. Barely audible. “I hate that I can’t control this panic. That it’s still in me. That I freeze. When I’m needed most.”

“You’re not frozen now,” you said. “You came back.”

He shook his head. “I’m supposed to protect people. I’m supposed to keep our court safe. That’s what I’m for. If I can’t do that... if I’m just afraid…then what am I?”

“You’re still you. Even when you’re afraid. Especially then.”

Azriel closed his eyes for a moment. Nodded, just barely. “I think you’re the only one who thinks that.”

“The fearless don't win wars, Az. They just die faster. The ones who love... the ones who are afraid — they're the ones who survive. They're the ones who save people."

He blinked, like you’d struck him, and a wave of relief ran through his body. Azriel let out a rough breath — almost a laugh. “Since when did you get so philosophical?”

You shrugged, a faint smile tugging at your mouth. “I used to date this guy…”

He arched his brow and you tilted your head, pretending to think. “Taught me a few things about war. About fear. About how important it is to find people worth being afraid for.”

Azriel’s mouth twitched upwards. “Sounds like a piece of work.”

You breathed a soft laugh and the quiet stretched again. He ran his fingers idly through a blade of grass, taking in the calm night surrounding him. 

“How did you know where I went?” Az asked.

Your arms were wrapped around your knees, chin resting on them, eyes tracing his shadows dancing along the grass. “I made a lucky guess.”

“Well… thank you," he said, his heart glowing. "For finding me.”

You glanced at him, your eyes softening as you replied,  “Always.”

Then you tucked your chin back onto your knees, looking up at the sky again. The stars spun lazy arcs overhead. Azriel watched you instead— for a few indulgent moments, at least. 

Eventually, Azriel’s gaze drifted from you, scanning the patch of grass beneath you both.  A soft smile tugged at his lips as the memory surfaced—of the first time he kissed you—here, in this exact spot.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

authors note: posting this randomly as i am...crawling...slowly....from the grave.... where uninspired writers.... and my abandoned wips.... go to rot...

as a girl who has suffered w panic attacks my whole life (thank u traumatic events!) i would rather die than have someone like...kiss me for example, but i cannot tell u how intimate those moments are after someone sees you so vulnerable and theyre just like so...casual abt it? so i simply had to write a lil something, idk anyways enjoy this random lazy ass work <3 onto my series i go!!!!

fun fact.... this is actually a scrapped scene from one of my drafted series (anatomy of dependence), that full exes to lovers, second chance romance, best friends to luvers goodnesssss!!!!

permanent tag list 🫶🏻 (im going to revamp this soon, so if you wanna stay on it, let me know!!)

@rhysandorian @itsswritten  @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon  @glam-targaryen 

@cheneyq @darkbloodsly @yesiamthatwierd @azrielsbbg @evergreenlark 

@marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters @starswholistenanddreamsanswered 

@feyretopia @azrielrot @justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli  @mrsjna

@anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound @melissat1254 @secretsicanthideanymore

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

@angel-graces-world-of-chaos @acoazlove @paradisebabey @inkedinshadows @mellowmusings

@paankhaleyaaar @curiosandcourioser @thisrandombitch @casiiopea2 @w0nderw0manly

@rottenroyalebooks @jurdanpotter @casiiopea2 @gamarancianne @weesablackbeak

@booksaremyescapeworld @knoxic  @wynintheclouds @dacrethehalls  @louisa-harrier

[wonubby]

another freaky bakugou thought of the day – 17+ only!

bakugou having a pretty girlfriend with glasses, who he loves soooo much! always cleaning them for her when they get dirty and pushing them right back up to the bridge of her nose.

he thinks his girl looks the prettiest with glasses, always complimenting and reassuring her when she gets self-conscious, but when she refuses to listen, there's only one thing he can do.

and he loves it.

"c'mon you can take it," he grunts, as you whimper, the words you wish to say being stuck at the back of your throat by his dick.

you're looking up at him, eyes watery and red, glasses slightly foggy, and hair wrapped around his fist in a messy ponytail.

fuck, you've never looked better to katsuki than now. he loved watching you turn into a mess around him, drool running down the corner of your lips.

you slowly push your head down lower, foggy eyes looking up at his, wanting his approval.

"doin' amazing for me, baby, fuck," katsuki choked out, head thrown back. his grip on your hair got tighter, unintentionally thrusting into your mouth, causing you to hit his thighs.

getting the hint, katsuki dragged you off. whimpering at the loss as you gasped and spluttered.

"kats, be gentle, pleaseee," you whined, feeling your throat burn.

a soft chuckle left his mouth at your expression, a cute little pout displayed on your fucked-out face. "'m sorry, baby. was it too much for you?" he mocked you condescendingly, his hand wrapped around his base as he nudged the tip of his cock towards your lips.

"open up. it aint gonna suck itself," he snarled. hand lightly making contact with your face.

a pathetic whimper escaped you as you stuck your tongue out, kitty licking his tip before taking it in whole.

"that's a good girl. taking me so well, shit," he breathed out. you pulled back slightly, sucking on his tip, knowing it was the fastest way to make his high approach.

katsuki couldn't help but thrust his hips up once more, eyes rolling back in his head at the sensations. "fuck, sweets. you trynna make me finish already?" his groans only encouraged you to pick up the pace, eliciting the sweetest and sluttiest moans from him.

he made the mistake of looking down at you, watching how your glasses covered the view of your beautiful eyes, slightly slanted with a small hand rubbing circles on your clit.

all he could do was groan, hands sparking slightly because of the pleasure. you felt so good around him; he wished he could live like this, reducing you to nothing but his cock warmer.

"shit, sweets, get off," he whimpered. ripping you off his dick once again before jerking it in his hand, back and forth.

you moaned at the sight, opening your mouth to suck around his head, pushing him to the brink of his high.

one last grunt left his lips before he came. white sticky ropes of cum hitting your face, staining your glasses, cheeks and tongue. the sight of him spilling all over you had your own high peaking, fingers coming to a stop on your sensitive clit as you jerked on the floor.

"katsu," you whimpered, eyes going cross-eyed, locked on the twitching dick in front of you.

katsuki's eyes finally opened, looking down at you before releasing another curse at the sight. quickly picking up his phone, he opened his camera, directing his still hard cock to rest on your tongue once again as he angled your face to look at the camera.

"that's it, there's my pretty baby. so fucking beautiful, covered in my cum," he smirked, snapping a picture before tossing his phone to the side.

katsuki picked you up by your underarms. placing you onto his lap to give you a searing, fervent kiss. you moaned into his mouth, tongue fighting for dominance only for yours to succumb under his.

pulling away, katsuki slowly licked at your cheeks, cleaning up the remaining sticky substance and removing your glasses.

"now, you feeling any better? not gonna spew any more nonsense about how you 'look so ugly' with these on?" he pressed, frowning at you in fake anger.

giggling, you place your head in the crook of you neck. "if it means i get to suck you off, maybe i'll keep calling them ugly." you teased, feeling his arms tighten around your waist.

"you damn brat," he huffed, flipping you onto your back.

"looks like i'm gonna have to teach you some manners now," he growled. before you could protest, his hard, throbbing dick was already aligned with your opening.

he poked it in slightly, hearing you gasp at the intrusion. "get ready, ya fuckin'' minx. it's gonna be a looooong night."

first time writing smut... kinda scared.

[trampleddoves]

hi! i liked your free use blurb and I was wondering if you'd do it in the reverse where the reader could use spence?

s. r. blurb 3

contents: fem!reader, free use Spencer, slight dom/sub dynamics, MDNI

Dating a nerd who all but worships the ground you walk on has certain perks.

There are the more obvious ones: he does your taxes for fun (and by hand, like the most lovable troglodyte), he takes you to lovely dates that are somehow both exciting and—if you’re being completely honest—ever so slightly boring, he is an absolute gentleman. The type who walks by the street, and would bend down to tie your laces for you. 

Lesser known perks are as follows: he can recite books for you from memory—which comes in handy when you need something soft and soothing to lull you to sleep, he indulges in your little hyperfixations, and, lastly, he’s so completely desperate for you. Enough that a simple brush of your hand on his thigh has him stuttering and turning pink, the slightest pressure on his crotch sends him reeling. Certain clothes are his enemy—you wear red and there’s a tent in his pants. 

It seems only fitting for you to claim his cock whenever you want. He gets hard so quickly, you might as well take advantage of it, right?

Right.

And of course, Spencer Reid—perfect, loving, incredibly intelligent—says yes to being your free use boyfriend. 

Another perk of dating a nerd?

He has nothing else going for him outside of work. Granted, the BAU takes him away from you more often than not, but you simply see that as another opportunity. Just means when he’s back, you’re bouncing on his cock at every opportunity you can.

This weekend is no different. He’s been gone for four days, barely calls—he’s always been so bad at that—but being apart only heightens your need for him. Absence sharpens love after all, or whatever it is Shakespeare said. You’re sure Spencer knows it by heart, something beautiful and poetic, not the clumsy version you can recall. 

So he’s home after four long days, trying to play chess, and you’re splayed on his lap, your back to his chest, grinding your hips in slow, circular motions to relish the feeling of his cock stretching you out and filling you up after being unsatisfied for the past few days. 

He’s moaning. Everytime he reaches over to move a piece, you bounce on his lap to distract him, giggling at the quiver in his fingers when you clench your walls tightly around his pulsing length. You follow his hands, long fingers wrapping around a knight and moving it to take an opponent’s bishop. You start bouncing faster. 

“God, honey,” he groans, accidentally knocking over a pawn in the process.

“Need your safe word?”

“No no, just—I missed you so much.” he whimpers, burying his face into your neck. He begins to buck his hips up, meeting your thrusts.

You pause immediately, hands resting on his thighs. Not that it doesn’t feel good—it does, but the whole point of this is that he continues his activities while you use him. “Did I give you permission to fuck me, Spence?”

“No,” he whines. You smile when he stops moving obediently, face lifting from your neck, “I’m sorry.” He resumes the chess game, moving a rook to take the offensive knight from before.

“Good boy.” you reward him by grinding again, more up and down this time. Leaning back into him, you drag your wet cunt all over his cock, squeezing as you do. Like a good boy, he simply continues his chess game, but you grin triumphantly as his hands tremor even more. With a hum, you bring your fingers to your clit, rubbing quick circles on the swollen nub. “White’s check in three.”

“No way.” he gasps as your pace grows rougher, riding him in quick strokes, “I could have sworn—ah!”

You come undone around him, walls tightening to a nearly painful degree. Soft, breathy gasps leave your lips as you ride him through your climax, going lax and soft in his arms. He sighs, staring dumbly at the chess board in front of him. Understandably needy, but he can’t do much about it right now, that’s not his role. Not unless you give him permission. 

“You’ve been so good, baby,” the words come out a sweet little sigh, full of affection. You crawl off his lap, grinning as he turns his head and follows you with a gaze so full of longing it’s almost pitiful. You hum, settling on the couch beside him. Legs spread, an invitation. “Come and fuck me now, Spence, you deserve it.”

The last, perhaps least known perk of dating a nerd?

They’re amazing at fucking. Or, at least, Spencer Reid is. 

[simpjaes]

enha hyung line!mtl into dry humping because bring it back

hyung line and dry humping

(im actually not gonna do am mtl bc i know all these mfs would be into it hehehh)

★ jay:

he'd probably be a little embarrassed by it so only does it when he's really insane, always rutting against you once the makeout session gets him desperate, all breathy and furrowing him brows into the kiss (with sexy music playing in the background), thinking you can't tell that he's practically humping your thigh. you're into it though, and it's like a silent little agreement between the two of you. he doesn't bring it up, you don't bring it up. you just let it happen, and he loves you so much for it because goddamn, you always make him feel like he's spiraling, he can't help it :(

☆ jake:

openly humps you and your things. When you're not home, he'll get himself off against your pillow, or your towels, or just rub up against your mattress while he's half asleep and flat on his stomach. but when you are home, oh. You'll be trying to cook and he's right behind you, pressing his cock against your ass repeatedly. You'll be trying to work from home and there he is, hovering over you with your leg between his, and he'd gently graze his cock on you through his sweatpants :( movie night? hump night. makeout session, he's doing exactly what jay does except worse, way more blatant, and absolutely unashamed by it. p.s. he whimpers every time. and don't even get me started on public stuff omfg. puppy!jake agenda!

★ sunghoon:

he's a happy medium. humps up against you on instinct but only when you're in a heated, intimate moment. he doesn't let himself do it for long tho, and thats bc he's too busy dragging your hand down, or your face, or whatever. frottage isn't enough. raw grinding isn't enough. you though, you can hump on him all day long and, in fact, he loves when you do. when you're sliding up his leg, or holding his hand between your legs and rutting against it. baby girl u can do whatever you want, he'll fuck you if you just ask, but it seems you like to grind, you love to get him all messy first.

☆ heeseung:

heeseung looooves when you grind on him, particularly getting yourself off while he's too locked in to a video game or smthn. drives him crazy. he isn't gonna stop mid game to fuck you, obv, but when he wins, you'd better be on the ground face down and ass up. additionally, for heeseung, he does love grinding himself when the mood is right, particularly when you're both just lazily making out on a humid summer night and he's dimmed the lights in his room. the kind of hands in hair kissing. that's when he's practically straddling you, humping up on you, trying to pull his cock out and squish it between your tits ;o;

[fizziepopangel]

I couldn't resist writing a quick little fic based off of this photo 😂❤️😋

Cat-astrophe: The Vet Visit

Husk trudged into his room, exhausted to the bone as he took off his hat and made a beeline for the whiskey kept at his bedside. It had been a day and he was ready for it to be over. With the hotel’s newfound popularity, the quiet concierge and bartender gig he had had flown out the window and suddenly the hustle and bustle never seemed to stop so the man rarely had a break in the day.

He grabbed his whiskey bottle and took a swig as he attempted to stretch, his back popping in several places, but not a single one relieving in any way. Groaning, he rubbed his back.  “I’m gettin’ too fuckin’ old for this shit.”

The old bar cat muttered to himself as he walked around his room, unsure of whether he craved a shower or a stronger drink more. Husk being Husk, he chose the drink and found himself heading back out the door and making his way through the hotel’s winding halls until he reached the bar again. Slipping behind the counter and kicking aside the empty bottles that he hadn’t bothered to clean up before he decided that the lobby was dead enough to call it quits. As he rummaged through the assortment of booze, both cheap and expensive, Husk sighed, eyes continuously drawn to the mess. “Its a workplace hazard, Husk! What if you trip or the bottles shatter and you step on a bunch of glass?” Charlie would likely scold in the morning when she saw the mess.

Just as he started to consider abandoning his search for something stronger than his own cheap whiskey and maybe cleaning up a little bit, he saw it. “Holy shit, she actually got it…” He breathed as he picked up a bottle of Macallan. The whiskey was too expensive for him to ever justify buying a bottle for himself, but after the few times he swiped one from a store on the nicer side of town when he was alive, he’d quickly decided that if he was ever gonna get hitched, his bride would be a good bottle of Macallan. He had jokingly told Charlie that she should order a bottle for him to drink at the bar instead of drinking the cheaper stuff they served patrons, but he never thought she would actually buy one.

Smiling to himself, he grabbed the bottle and a glass and poured himself a double. The bartender practically purred at the smooth taste of the whiskey, downing the double pour and hiding the bottle in a far corner beneath the bar out of sight for most bar goers and staff. Slightly buzzed from the usual drinks during his shift, and the double of Macallan he downed, Husk yawned, ready to head up for bed for another unrestful night’s sleep.

Charlie was constantly telling Husk to clean up behind the bar, always telling him and the rest of the staff about every little “workplace hazard” she could think of. Husk had never really thought much about it; it's not like he could get any deader, so what was the point of…

CRUNCH!

Husk yelped as one of the many bottles he had discarded on the floor throughout his shift shattered beneath his bare foot, the glass digging into the sensitive pads of his paw. “Fuck!” Stumbling backward, another bottle cracked beneath his weight before slipping from under his paw and propelling him backward. The demon found himself flailing, reaching for something, anything, to keep himself upright, but all that did was send glasses crashing and shattering all over the already cluttered floor of the bar.

A sickening snapping sound rang in Husk’s ears as he hit the ground, pain searing through him as he landed amidst the mess he’d left behind the bar. He wanted to scream, but the pain kept him silent, kept him still, his ears ringing as he slowly and painfully rolled himself onto his side, an arm outstretched to grab onto the counter in a feeble attempt to pull himself up.

“What’s going on?” Vaggie shouted, spear at the ready as she and Charlie burst through in their pajamas.

Yawning, Charlie looked around, bleary eyed and confused as she watched her girlfriend scan the room. “What was that?” Charlie looked around herself, eyes almost immediately landing on the familiar feathers that has scattered around the bar in the commotion. “Oh my Satan! Husk!”

All the old hell cat could manage was a pitiful groan as the princess helped him to his feet, fussing over him like a mother would after seeing one of her children take a tumble off a play structure. He did his best to answer, but all his brain could register was pain. Sharp, searing, ungodly pain. ‘Could he even blame Satan for this kind of pain? It felt worse than anything else he could think of.

The others filed in, Lucifer himself coming forward to help his daughter tend to her injured friend. Husk vaguely remembered the words “broken” and “hospital” being muttered by someone beyond the haze of drunken pain. He’d broken a lot of things on his way down, mostly glasses and empty bottles, but although he knew he was probably pretty cut up, the pain was so much more than him having gotten a bit of glass in his skin, though the stinging across his body that he had quite a bit of glass stuck in his skin as well.

Six Weeks Later

“I still can’t fucking believe you guys brought me here.” Husk muttered, arms crossed as he sat in the waiting room. “And to have me in a fucking cone like a goddamn animal!”

Charlie winced apologetically, Keekee purring in her lap. “It was the closest hospital that had an avian vet on call, Husk, and you really needed a doctor. They said you could’ve permanently damaged your wings if we’d waited too long to get you help.” “Perhaps if you had stopped trying to lick your incision, there would be no need for the cone.” Alastor quips, not even looking up from his paper.

A throaty growl came from the cat demon. He didn’t have a great excuse; Niffty caught him giving into the instinct to try to groom the sight near the base of his wing where he had surgery to repair the fracture once. Just once…. But that was all it took for Alastor to conjure up a cone and slap it on him like he was some kind of untrained animal. That had been two weeks ago. It was humiliating, and Angel never seemed to run out of jokes about it; calling him satellite dish, comparing him to a lampshade, and calling him ‘bumper car’ when the cone made him bump into a few things.

“For Fat Nuggets?” A nurse called from the door. Angel held his pig close to his chest, fussing over him as though it was his first visit to the vet. 

“I can’t believe I’m seeing the same doctor as a freaking pig.” Husk groaned.

Alastor chuckled, the sound almost ominous. “Just wait until you start getting your vaccinations.” Husk all but choked on the very air he was breathing, attempting to shoot the radio demon a glare over the cone. While the Al had never felt threatened by the feline, seeing him glare over his cone was downright comical. “You’re long overdue for your rabies shot, Husker.”

“I don’t have damn rabies!” Husk snapped.

“If you’re scared, I can hold your hand, Husk.” Niffty chimed from beside him, swinging her legs like a child beside him.

Before he could snap at Niffty for implying that he not only needed a rabies shot, but was afraid  to get one, the door to the waiting room swung open, Angel carrying Fat Nuggets out and spewing obscenities at the nurse who called after them, pissed that they had called his perfect little pig overweight.

“Come now, my pet.” Alastor grinned widely. “Don’t make me put your collar on in front of a full waiting room now, Husker.”

Begrudgingly, he got up, following Alastor and Niffty back to an exam room, bumping into a few walls since he refused to hold Niffty’s hand as he walked. 

Sitting on the exam table, Husk stared up at the ceiling, counting the tiles since he couldn’t see much of anything else. He didn’t mind the nurse popping in and out of the room, assuming she was bringing files or x rays in preparation for the doctor. That seemed like something a nurse would do. He had counted thirty-six ceiling tiles as the nurse left again, a bit of movement catching his eye as he stared up mindlessly… A mirror. It seemed to be some kind of security measure; angled toward the door, only really showing his leg hanging lazily over the edge of the exam table he sat on, and a partial view of the counter across from him. 

A partial view was all he needed to see the battery of syringes filled with liquids of varying colors lined the counter, just waiting for someone to unpackage them and jab them into some poor sap who probably  hated needles…. Only, being the patient in the room, Husk was that sap… And he did hate needles.

He was about to walk out when a familiar weight wrapped around his neck. He didn’t need to see it to know what Alastor had done.

“Knock knock.” The vet called as she opened the door, her voice still in that annoying baby voice she used on her usual clientele. “How is my Mr. Clumsy Paws today?”

“The name’s Husk.” 

Ignoring his correction, the doctor looked at her chart, feigning shock. “It looks like we’re getting some shots today along with our wing examination. Are you gonna be a brave boy for me today?” The woman’s hand hovered above the cone.

“If you pet me, it will be the last time you use that hand.” The threat had been enough to get the woman to snatch her arm back, giggling nervously.

“Now, now, Husker,” Alastor scolds, clearly enjoying every moment of the other demon’s misery, “Don’t make me get the squirt bottle.”

Growling, Husk attempted another glare at the man who owned his soul. He knew there was nothing he could do to actually hurt Alastor or get out of the battery of vaccinations he had scheduled since they would likely come after the examination of his wing, but that didn’t mean he had to be pleasant about it. He was civil through the examination of his wings despite one still being tender after the break, but the second the doctor reached for the first needle, Husk’s cool went right out the window.

When Alastor walked Husk out, it was clear that the entire waiting room heard the commotion, his friends all looking awkwardly between him, Alastor, and Niffty, silently asking for an explanation before Angel Dust dared break the silence. “Soooooo….. How’d it go…”

“Fuck you.” Husk snapped, though most of the annoyance that had been in his tone was drained after the fight he had put up with the doctor. “I’m waiting in the car.”

Embarrassment splashed across Charlie’s face and she wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole as the entirety of the waiting room watched Husk leave before turning to look at her and the others, some of them knowing her since she made sure her furry friend had regular visits to keep her in good health. This had not been the fun bonding experience she had expected when she had suggested they all make appointments with the same vet. After they all sort of bonded over caring for Husk when he had gotten hurt, she had thought a ‘family vet trip’ would keep that going, but she had never planned to be a spectacle for everyone to gawk at the way most people in the room were doing.

“For Keekee?” An exhausted nurse called from the door. Gathering up her fur baby and getting ready to make a dash for the examination area so she could escape the judgemental silence… Until she looked up to see familiar feathers clinging to the nurse's scrubs and scratch marks covering most of her exposed skin. 

Trying to keep her composure, the princess looked speed walked to their assigned exam room. The second the door closed and they were alone, she looked down at Keekee, sighing deeply. “We’re never coming back here again and we are never  inviting anyone to the vet ever again.”

vet visit

[thalwri]

COLLARS 'N LEASH

STARRING: caleb x reader

synopsis: you're injured and supposed to be resting but you just can't stop going out. so caleb finds a way to convince you to stay inside to let your injuries heal (it gets freaky).

warnings: porn with plot, use of collars, fingering, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pussy slapping, obscene use of hands, cum eating, sloppy wet marathon sex, multiple creampies, manhandling, squirting, spitting, pussydrunk!caleb, cockdrunk!reader, you two are just nasty freaks.

wc: 3,4k

a/n: i'm literally about to cumbust. caleb's got me feral these days. and he will never be beating the panty sniffer allegations!!

MINORS DON'T INTERACT!

You believed it was a joke. Or some one of the many weirdly ominous things Caleb had a habit of saying to get a kick out of you. It must have been.

“What?” You blink, staring at his hands. 

“Remember what I told you?” He asked, free hand slowly reaching up your thigh. “About that stray cat.”

You were fresh out the shower, skin still steaming from the heat of the water pelting your back. You have nothing on but a gown, and not one of the fluffy ones either. His eyes had been on you since you left the shower and he hasn’t bothered hiding his blushing.

“The one you put a collar on?” Your brows raise at the memory. He really was worried about that poor kitty. It was all injured and kept trying to run, so Caleb eventually put a collar with a bell on the cat so he’d know if it tried to go and be adventurous again.

Then it clicked. You had a minor injury on your leg from your last mission. A solo mission that was supposed to be an investigation had ended with you fighting at least six Wanderers throughout the night. Caleb made sure your superiors put you on break for at least two weeks (with Zayne’s medical support) to give you time to rest. 

But being the stubborn person you are, you always found a way to leave your apartment to Caleb’s agitation. It got so bad that even he had to take leave from the Fleet to keep an eye on you— as if his usual methods didn’t already work.

It all makes sense. The fact that he’s in Linkon, the fact that you’ve been put on sick leave for two weeks, and the fact that he’s been watching you like a hawk especially since you try to go out. 

The damn collars in his hands are to make you the cat in this situation. 

“Are you serious?” You blink, trying to ignore the growing heat in your core. You couldn’t lie, it was hot. 

One of the collars, you presume is yours, has a pretty red bow tied around its bell. The other has a leather leash attached to it. Almost like a leash for a dog.

“I don’t want you running off when you’re still recoverin’.” Caleb’s hand disappear into your silk robe, inching higher and higher up your thighs, just so damn close to your pussy. “And I don’t want you to get worried. So I shouldn’t leave you.”

His lips inch closer to your neck, hot breath ghost over your damn skin. This fucker—

“How about I test a little theory of mine?” The metallic jingles of the collars ring in your ears. His sunset eyes raise to your gaze with that stupidly handsome puppy look he gives you when he gets needy and desperate. “Can I put this collar on you?”

“You’re such a freak.” You hiss, watching his eyes flutter in plain as the fucking sky obviousness. You learned he had a thing for you being a little bit mean. Just a little. And he does everything he can to get on your nerves.

“So are you.” His hand finally reaches your soaking cunny and circles your entrance with a single finger. You deeply inhale feeling your walls clench on air. “Look at you, so wet. I think you want me to collar you up. So I always know where you are.”

Bold of him to talk. You can literally see the growing tent in his pants. He likes it just as much as you do. 

His finger slowly dips into your pussy, pumping in and out with deliberate precision. He knows exactly what to do to set you off, turn you on, make you beg. And he is making things extra slow to get to you.

“Caleb.” You attempt to warn but he curls his finger right into that spongy pleasure spot that he knows drives you insane.

“Why would you wanna go out and about when you’re injured, pips?” He asks with concern in his eyes as if he isn’t torturing you with his finger. It’d be better if he put in another or two. Wet squelches travel right up to your ears to add to the injury. What a tease.

Your eyes gloss over with intense need. What a fucking— 

“It’s almost like you want me to keep you close,” Another finger finally slips in, stretching you out deliciously. A heavenly moan escapes your lips, not that you were trying to hide it to begin with. “Keep a close eye on you and remind you that you’re better off restin’ here at home.”

His words quickly become white noise just from how his fingers turn you into horny mush. If there’s one thing your boyfriend has mastered, it’s driving you insane with his fingers alone. Now imagine what his cock does.

“Fuck.” You sigh, feeling your back arch to feel his fingers deeper inside you. And like the good boyfriend he is, he gives you exactly what you need— pushing his fingers deeper and deeper until his knuckles nudge your entrance. “And– oh, Caleb- what- what about you?”

“Hm?” His tongue darts out his mouth, deeply concentrated on how your cunny clenches around his fingers as fast as your pulse. The tent on his sweatpants start to darken from his leaking precum.

“There’s two… collars.” You say slowly or else his ministrations would bring you to a stutter. “If the bell one’s for me, what about the one with the leash?”

Caleb’s lips form an ‘o’ shape, eyes following your gaze to the collars in his hand. “That one’s for me. You want me to stay close to take care of you, right? What better way to do that than to make sure I never leave your side?”

Your hand slowly travels down to grip his hardened cock, gently stroking it through the soaked fabric. Your finger danced around his tip just the way he liked it— slow and light, just to rile him up even more. You watch his eyes squeeze shut in a sore attempt to hold back his own lewd noises. 

“So if I wear the collar you will too?” Your hand expertly works his cock, squeezing his clothed shaft as you stroked him. Unable to verbally respond, Caleb slowly nods while huffing out soft groans.

That’s how you end up on your back in the bed, legs spread with your boyfriend ruthlessly eating your pussy.

Your room is silent apart from the obnoxiously slick noise of your wet, cum soaked skin being slurped and devoured. Caleb made you cum three times already and it looked like he wasn’t stopping. 

“C-Caleb—” Your eyes roll back for the nth time as his lips close around your clit for his tongue to flick back and forth in that delicious pattern. He expertly works your clit, slowly and carefully spelling out his name into your arousal all while curling his fingers deep inside your soaking cunny.

“Caleb— god— please—“ Your pleas fall to deaf ears, mostly because he’s trapped his head between your trembling thighs to suffocate in your grip. You can tell he’s getting off on it based on how he fucks your slick back into with his fingers, how he moans loudly with every slurp, kiss and bite on your skin. 

He is so gone and he fucking loves it. 

Your collar jingles every time you squirm and twitch, and sings a melody whenever your back arches for him. It’s like a little instrument that accompanies the symphony of moans and whimpers that leave your pretty lips.

He’s so animalistic with it, slobbering and drooling all over you while he slurps you up like one of his protein shakes. The bed’s shaking from how he’s grinding on the mattress to get a kick from all that self induced edging— his main priority, however, is you and that cute pussy that has him on a leash (literally and figuratively).

“Keep drippin’, pips.” He groans into your cunny, pressing hot smooches on your lower lips. “Keep cummin’ on my face. Tug on my damn leash. Fuckin’ love tasting you.”

Your clothes had been long abandoned after the first orgasm he ate you through. You made such a mess that your panties (which he will keep for later) were thrown across your room along with the rest of his clothes.

The way his tongue just effortlessly slides right past your entrance and caresses your walls brings a hoarse cry right out of your kiss-swollen lips. And of course your boyfriend dutifully responds with the sluttiest whine you’ve heard. You tug harder at his leash, overwhelmed by the continuous stimulation from his nose bumping your clit.

It all rushes straight down to his cock, jutting against he mattress. He shakes his head to spread your juices all over his face, wanting to be covered and blessed by your essence. Wanting to lick it right off his face once he was done. To have your scent on his form without having to scramble for it by rubbing your used panties on his face.

Eating your pussy alone was more than enough to make him cum untouched. What makes it even better is your relentless tugging of his leash, continuously pulling his face closer to your weeping cunt. If your moans weren’t enough then your trembling thighs were more than sufficient to keep him going. And he’d be damned to waste the meal you’re serving him on a diamond platter. 

“Caleb!” Your cry summons another harsh, intense climax bringing your legs to a violent shake. His grip on your thighs tighten and the slurps and muffled groans get so much louder that you can’t even hear your own moans.

He tilts his head back, finally releasing your legs from his iron grip. Eyes closed, Caleb chuckles as he gulps as much air as his lungs can allow.

“Should’ve had you sit on my face.” He rasps and wipes your juices off of his chin. Almost intuitively, you open your lips awaiting a taste of your juices.

“Fucking freak.” You whimper as he stuffs his fingers in your mouth for you to wipe him clean. Your tongue laps up your yummy essence, ensuring all that remains on his hand is just your saliva.

“Your fucking freak, baby.” He slowly move in and out of your mouth until the tips of his fingers tap the back of your throat making you gag around him. “Your freak that loves eating you good, loves making you feel good, loves making you cum.”

His free hand cups your pussy, feeling your wetness soak his hand like a waterfall. “Look at you. Making such a mess.” He raises his hand and lands a soft smack on your cunny making you jump from the overstimulation. Your bell jingles from the impact. He finally retracts his fingers to lick your spit off his hand, relishing in your taste with a low moan.

“Speak… for yourself.” You huff, eyes darting down to his reddened twitching length. Globs of precum dripped down his thick shaft surrounded with throbbing veins— three to be specific. “Got you all hard from eating me like a good boy.”

Caleb’s eyes flutter shut from the dirty comment. His cock jumped, dripping precum right onto your hot skin. “It’s like you want me to stuff you to remind you what gets your eyes rolling back.”

“All bark, no bite.” You grin, watching his eyes rapidly dilate. “You gonna bark again, baby?”

“Woof.” Damn, that’s fucking hot. You spread your legs wider for him. An invitation for him to act on his word. “Humble me then, Colonel. Or maybe I’ll be doing that—“

Your words get swallowed by his lips and tongue engulfing you in a lascivious kiss. Rough and demanding, breaths heavy and endless, Caleb wastes no time aligning his dripping tip with your entrance. He circles around you, slowly stroking up and down, bumping his cockhead with your swollen bud. Your juices spill all over his shaft, making it so much smoother, wetter, lewder. Fuck.

“Stop teasing,” You tug his leash as you moan against his hungry lips. “Put it in, ‘leb.”

“Mm, command me.” He grins. “You want me to fuck you good, yeah? You want this cock all up in you? Want me to stuff you full?”

The stimulation is too good for you to respond, all that can be mustered is a nod. “Use your words, pips.”

Of course.

His finger taps the bell on your collar, ringing out a cute dingle! Teasingly tapping on it, his cock slides up and down your folds, tip occasionally teasing itself right into you before pulling out. You can tell it’s driving him insane too, from how his breath is laboured, how his eyes are slowly but surely rolling back, and most definitely those soft whimpers he’s struggling to hide.

“Please, baby,” You whine, grinding your hips hard against his cock and tugging harsh on his leash. You’re practically drunk on him without even having his girth inside you. “Put in in f’me. Want you to fuck me full. Be good ’n stuff me.”

“Heh,” Caleb huffs, almost choking from how hard you pulled him. He presses his cockhead into your cunny, groaning at how tight you squeeze around him, sucking him in like a vacuum. “Yes ma’am.”

And he slips in smooth like a hand into a glove. Maybe because you’re slick from all the times he made you cum with his mouth. You both tilt your heads back, close to cumming right on the spot. He pauses to catch his breath, the dog tag on his necklace and the leather strap of his leash dangling right over your face.

“Oh, she’s squeezin’ so hard.” He grins, practically drooling from how your cunny sucks him riiiight in.

He rocks in and out of you fast, absorbing the sound of your slick and cum squelching, drenching his cock in your essence. Each thrust takes him deeper and deeper into you until his tip pokes your sensitive gummy spot.

Your little bell jumps with your titties, jingling and ringing with each relentless pounding of his length in you while his heavy sacks smack your skin. It feels so gooood and so fucking lewd that your words are reduced to incoherent mumbles.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Caleb chuckles, dragging his length in and out of your cunny with relentless speed. Even he can’t hold back his deliciously slutty moans from how good you squeeze and tighten around him. His eyes are locked on your collar, glossing over the jingling metal accompanying your moans.

“You like how I’m stuffing you?”

Your eyes cross right over, tongue tempted to loll right out. The overstimulation becomes too much even for you, forcing out so many fresh cruel orgasms from you that a ring of your cum paints the base of his cock.

“You— ah— must love how tight I clench on you,” You manage to bite back, deliberately clenching your walls to tease him. “While you fuck me deep ’n rough.”

“Fuck—“ The bed is practically screaming from the pressure of you being hammered clean. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Then do it, baby.” You must have trained him subconsciously. His cock spills heavy, hot globs of his cum right into your soaked cunny, stuffing you right up real good. His whines travel right down to your core, turning you on even more than you could possibly imagine. Something about him being so relentlessly horny for you drives you insane.

“You’re evil, baby.” Caleb groans, pressing hot kisses all over your skin, from your neck right to your jaw all while still thrusting his cum into you. You can just feel some of it escaping your plugged cunny, leaking onto the bed with the rest of your lewd juices. “Making’ me cum like this. Driving me crazy with that pussy of yours.”

Plap! Plap! Plap! sounds around the room alongside your joint cries, sweat-slick skin smacking, and your bell jingling like crazy. Your grip on his leash tightens, tugging him down right to your lips.

The kiss is so deliciously sloppy and wet with your tongues overlapping and teeth clashing. Your core tightens and burns with that familiar heat, screaming for release. “Caleb— ‘m gonna cum again.”

“Good.” He pulls right out of you, leaving your poor pussy clenching on air and practically pulsing his name in morse code. “Cum f’me like a good girl.”

He raises your legs from the bed, hooking them on his shoulders and pounding his cock right back into you. In a much deeper angle hitting your sensitive core all while pinching and rubbing your clit with a calloused finger.

You choke out a cry, vision going completely white as the overstimulation burns through your skin right up your spine. The tightness in your core completely snaps, releasing juices all over you, all over him, all over the damn bed until everything in the eye can see is soaked.

“Thaaaat’s it, baby.” He grins, watching your juices drip down his abs flexing with every thrust. He leans down, pushing you into the meanest mating press to date. His cock practically bullies your cervix with his inhumanely mean thrusts, spurting globs of cum from his last orgasm right into you. 

“Squirt on me.” Your toes curl as your eyes roll back into your head. “Make a mess all over me.” He’s babbling at this rate, praising everything you do while he rails you to the stars. “Pussy’s so good f’me. You’re so good f’me. Wanna stuff you to the brim. Wanna make you feel so good ’n comfy that you won’t need to lift a finger.”

You can only whimper in response to his praises. Your nails claw at his back while fruitlessly tugging at his leash. But a flimsy thing like that won’t hold either of you. If anything, it drives you even crazier for each other.

You could go on for hours, days, till the fucking room smells like you. Till the windows and mirrors fog. Till you milk him dry to the fuckin’ bone. Till you’re both so cockdrunk and pussydrunk that your names are the only things you can utter.

Not even a few seconds after Caleb loudly whines as another huge stuffing of hot cum fills you up good. His eyes cross as his tongue sticks right out, dripping saliva right into your mouth. Feeling so nasty yet so damn good, you take it all in, relishing in his taste.

“Fuck, wanna taste you—“ Using the remnants of his strength that didn’t go with his cum right into you, Caleb lifts you up into his arms with his cock still lodged inside. You swear it must have swollen up inside you. 

He drives his hips up into you, pushing his cock nice and hard and deep. “Spit into my mouth, baby.” He sticks his tongue out, almost wagging it for you like the tease he is. “Drip into my mouth.”

And who are you to refuse him of his desires? Not to mention, you’ve always had the desire to do it too. The only concern is how he expects you to do it while he fucks you both beyond the point of overstimulation.

But Caleb being Caleb always finds a way. He nips your squished titties, dragging a loud sultry moan out of your lips, bringing drool right out of your tongue and right into his waiting mouth. And that alone just makes him cum again, his cock strongly spurts his sticky hot seed right into you as if he hasn’t done it twice already. 

You’re fucked through and through, almost limp in his embrace and yet still hungry for more. As his cock pumps his seed deep into you, he kisses you with praises of reverence and love. Just to remind you that he loves you so much more than he enjoys slutting you both out.

“So good.” He babbles, tonguing the bell on your collar, whimpering with the soft jingles. “So fuckin’ good. ‘M not gonna stop. ‘M gonna fuck you good all night. Stuff you full of my cum. You want that, baby?”

You quickly nod, mumbling your yeses with hiccups and moans. There was no way you were going to stop at the rate you were going. Perhaps you will when the sun rises. Or when your injuries heal. You’re not complaining though. It’s not every day you get to have your boyfriend like this, and you plan to make the most of it.

caleb's making me too feral for my own good.

[seasprincess]

Ride?

Sub Spencer Reid

warnings: p in v, unprotected, pathetic spencer, whining and whimpering, mommy k!nk!, praise k!nk, his true form

wc:700

Being Spencer’s partner means you know more about him than he knows about himself. He likes to keep his leg hidden, behind walls. But you can break down those walls in a moment and see the truth.

So one thing that was easy for you to understand about him is all his kinks and stuff. Even he didn’t know he liked them. I mean of course he knows about kinks. His reading and research of…certain things lead him down loopholes of things he couldn’t even think of let alone act out.

Spencer feels safe with you. You had created a space with him to feel safe in. And that lead to you and him…experimenting.

Spencer had learnt many things about you and you learnt a lot about him.

He’s a sub. There isn’t a bone in his body that could take control and fuck you. He’d try to please you but he’d always get self conscious and think he was doing something wrong. Or he’ll just start whimpering and whining about how good it feels before being unable to move because of how good it is.

So because of this it usually means you’re in Spencer. Riding him as he holds your hips, whimpering as you go up and down his cock. Raw this time. He will always say how you two should be protected just in case. But after a bad day and frustration you just want to feel your boyfriend inside you.

“You’re such a good boy Spencer.” Your hands find their way to his cheek as you keep going up and down. Thumb gently stroking his cheeks, hips rolling back and forth.

Spencer just whimpers at your praise words as his head falls back against the pillows. Praise kink, he has a BIG praise kink that you use to your advantage a lot.

“Mommy please.” He’s actually pathetic for you, it's so cute. A man of his intelligence reduced down to a ball of mush in your hands just for something as simple as a kiss.

“Please what baby?” You pick up the pace a bit to make it agony for him. He’s not used to all these feelings. You being his only sexual partner means that he just wants to feel everything he missed out on with you. Well maybe not everything, that seems scary to him.

“Please can I cum?” And just like that a man who is classed as a literal genius is asking you for permission to cum. You can’t help but smile as he gives you those puppy eyes. They pull at you all the time. He flashes his big brown eyes at you and suddenly nothing else matters. And how could you ever say no?

“Yes Spencer.” You say before letting out a moan as he bucks his hips. He of course wants to make you feel good too. But sometimes his mind just gets so corked we die to him being so overwhelmed he just can’t think. Poor baby.

Your hand rubs his cheek as his mouth drops open. Eyes rolling back slightly as he just in a state of pure bliss. To be fair to him you had been riding him for quite a while and this boy is very needy.

He doesn’t take long to cum in you. Filling you up good just the way he dreams about. Like actually dreams about. Since meeting you the amount of wet dreams this man has skyrocketed. And they’re always about you. You topping him, you kissing him, you doing other things that he could never admit. He’s too embarrassed. But one day. One day you will get that info out of him.

You didn’t take long to cum either. Not wanting to overstimulate him today.

Well that was the plan until tears prick his eyes and his hand grips yours. Gazing in your eyes with a pleading look as you keep riding.

“Mommy please. Mommy I can’t. Too much.”

You smile at his words as you slow down before stopping. He looks so cute but you just can’t do it to him today. He’s just so sweet.

You slowly slide off him before laying down next to him and putting an arm round him. He leans into your touch immediately. Craving it.

“You did so good. I’m so proud of you.”

Oh you’ve actually just shot him through the heart with that sentence.

This was inspired by a post by @/spencerreids_cvmslut on tiktok and the comments.

not proofread x

[differenteagletragedy]

Simon doesn't remember the name of the woman who took his virginity. At this point, all these years later, he's not sure if he ever knew it. It was a chance encounter, quick and a little dirty but fun. Fine.

He'd been in the neighborhood pub, the one he escaped to when he didn't want to be at home, shooting pool. He wasn't that good at it, not then, but he practiced for something to do, and as he racked up the balls for a third round against himself, he apparently caught her eye.

A bit older than him, the woman was immediately forward and flirty, and it wasn't a secret, even as inexperienced as Simon was, as to what she wanted. His body must have felt some kind of desire with the way it reacted to her, blood rushing south as she slid her hands over him in the dim light of the nearly vacant bar, but when she invited him to her flat down the street, it wasn't lust that made him agree.

It was curiosity. He wondered what it would feel like to be wanted, even on a base level like this, and if it would fill up whatever hole that had been inside him for as long as he could remember.

And it did. A little.

He'd never even kissed a girl before, always too closed-off to get in any kind of position to do something like that, but that night, he kissed the woman from the pub, over and over again. He followed her movements, let her put her hands on him and place him where he needed to go, and it was something.

When their clothes came off, left in a haphazard heap around her cluttered living room, it was something more, and when she pushed him to the couch and sunk down onto him, the unfamiliar warmth almost overwhelming, for a second, it was everything.

He came too fast, and it was over too soon. That night, he slid back into his own bed, alone again. He couldn't tell if he felt better, knowing there was something he could do to soothe the ache in him, or if it was worse, having the relief for a moment then going back to nothing.

A few nights later, when the weekend hit and the pub was more crowded, he caught the eye of a pretty girl in the corner, shyly checking him out, and he got his answer.

For Simon, for years, it was better to have a little bit of comfort. Just a little bit, because he never saw a way that he could have more. A stranger from a bar, one from the grocery store that asks him to reach a high shelf and flirts a little too much ... he gets good at spotting whatever that first woman saw in him. The part of someone that's open to a quick, needy fuck.

He sees it in you. Clocks it straightaway, but he also sees something more.

It's in the way you pull back after he kisses you hard and deep, the only way he really knows how to kiss. He stops, thinking you've changed your mind, but you're still there, still close, with such a soft look in your eyes now. You initiate the kiss this time, your hands sliding up to cup his cheeks, keeping him in place as you slow things down.

It's disorienting almost, he tries to shake it off, to get back to how this is supposed to go. He yanks your shirt off, and you let him, but when he moves his hands to roughly palm at your chest, you patiently pull them back down to rest on your waist.

"Slow down," you murmur, smiling up at him. "We've got a little time."

It's muscle memory for him at this point, finding a woman and bringing her to a quiet, private place, pushing into her, feeling the brief reprieve it brings. But with you, the rhythm is all off. It's somehow very good and very bad, all at the same time.

"Thought you wanted something here," he mutters, his meaning clear -- he thought you wanted him.

"I do," you answer. "I just don't want it to be over in five minutes. That ok?"

He's not sure what else to do, so he nods. And he slows down.

It's different, sex when you're not rushing towards the end-goal. His hands, used to action in moments like this, pushing and pulling and gripping, instead find yours. Your fingers intertwine, and you kiss him, almost lazily, like you’ve got all the time in the world. Like he’s worth it.

To Simon, it feels strange and new, but not really -- like it's all happening through the filmy haze of a dream, where somehow he knows every step of this dance and yet nothing at all, all at once. To you, from the soft sounds slipping from your lips, it feels right.

When it's over, and you're both breathless and sated, he feels like that boy again -- the one who'd never been kissed and who didn't know where to put his hands. But now, he notices, one hand is still grasping yours and he squeezes it, just barely.

"That ok?" he asks softly, and he's not sure if he's speaking to you or to himself.

"Perfect," you tell him, turning your head to give him a smile.

He doesn't know if he'll ever see you again. But he's memorizing the weight of your hand in his, the steady sound of your breathing as it returns to normal. And even if he never has this with you again, in the moment he knows that he's capable of it. And that's enough.

[hypomanic-chaos]

[ID:

First image is a Reddit comment by user chokokhan, reading:

"im gonna repeat this until my lungs give out. some men want conservative women to live their conservative lives with. that's fucking awesome, go be amish or mormon or whatever.

a LOT of men want to break in independent women and trap them into a conservative relationship. that's abuse and power. why are they foaming at the mouths trying to get abortion banned federally if the women they're interested in are chaste until marriage and only fuck for god given children? why do we not have maternity leave and state subsidized- free or almost free childcare when the economy benefits from having women in the workforce but also from having children? why does school end at 3pm and your job at 5pm? why are they fighting so hard to stop work from home when it benefitted parents? control. it's irrational and it has nothing to do with morals, the economy, logic. just control. keeping all women from having full fledged careers, from being able to walk out of an abusive marriage, from being able to make choices on having babies or not. because when women are equal they have no one to look down on and their mediocrity is too much to bear."

Second image is a quote by Trevor Noah, from Born a Crime: Stories From a South African Childhood, reading "The way my mother always explained it, the traditional man wants a woman to be subservient, but he never falls in love with subservient women. He's attracted to independent women. 'He's like an exotic bird collector,' she said. 'He only wants a woman who is free because his dream is to put her in a cage.'"

/End ID]

I've also seen the interpretation that some conservative men go after liberal women because there would be less pressure on them in those relationships to be the "man of the house." Less would be expected of them, so they can get away with less responsibility, they don't necessarily need a job that would be able to support the two of them (and any children), while his conservative ideals would still place the burden of any housework or childcare on the woman.

Whoever wrote this, slayed so hard with all these statements, truer words have never been spoken

[sthilarions]

Somewhere along the way, Charles isn’t quite sure when, Edwin acquired the habit of telling Charles “I’m not angry, I’m disappointed.”

When Crystal first heard it, she rolled her eyes almost off her head. “Yeah, everyone knows that’s worse, Edwin, and also, cliched. What, did you hear that on a sitcom somewhere?”

The thing is, when Edwin started saying it, Charles would’ve found Crystal’s response utterly mental, which he strongly suspects is exactly why Edwin started. Obviously being angry is worse. Edwin didn’t exactly know the details about Charles’s dad until recently - still doesn’t, really - but he’s known from the beginning that Charles doesn’t do well with certain things, just like Charles knows Edwin doesn’t do well with certain things.

One of those things, since almost the beginning, was Edwin being mad at him, which Edwin picked up on embarrassingly quickly. Charles knows it’s partly because Edwin understands a lot more than Crystal thinks he does, about parents, and about punishment, and has since the beginning. So, yeah, Edwin started telling Charles that he wasn’t angry, he was disappointed, and it was a relief, every time. Charles suspects he probably visibly slumped out of tension every time Edwin said it for years.

But - the thing is, by the time they’ve met Crystal… It doesn’t sound so mental anymore.

Because Edwin does get angry at Charles, sometimes, and mostly it’s actually pretty charming - Charles will never ever tell Edwin that it’s cute when his mouth goes all tight and prissy, or that it makes him feel kinda warm when Edwin’s so worried about him that he gets mad about it. And even when it’s not charming, even when Edwin’s really genuinely mad and Charles really genuinely wishes he wasn’t, it’s… safe. It’s not even scary. He knows by now, even in the scared little kid part of his brain, that Edwin will never ever hurt him and never ever kick him out, and even more than that, Edwin works to not be scary when he’s mad.

Edwin learned all the things that make Charles freak out a little, even while Charles was actively trying to hide what they were. Learned what specific words make Charles flinch, and then never said them again. Learned what parts of his own body and Charles’s he shouldn’t reach for while yelling, and never moved towards them again. Learned, much against Charles’s will, what specific things Charles just couldn’t handle Edwin getting angry at him for no matter how he did it, and made sure he didn’t, even though at first it took him using that rather unpleasant talent of his for just switching all his emotions off entirely, before he learned milder ways to stop from getting angry, including, sometimes, being “disappointed” instead.

And it’s not that he’s gentle when he’s angry at Charles, exactly. He can give a tongue-lashing with the best of them, he’ll cuss if he gets pissed enough, he’ll insult and lambaste and, in general, get his point very, very across. It’s just that he’s learned all the exact lines where it goes from being memorable to being scary, and he doesn’t cross them. He’ll say something Charles did is “fucking stupid” if he thinks it was, but he’ll never say Charles is “bloody useless” because Charles’s breath caught and eyes went wide the one time he did. And that makes all the difference, really.

The point being, by the time they meet Crystal - Charles thinks she might be right. For Edwin, anyway. Because Edwin being angry means at best Charles gets to watch him get prissy or worried for him or wittily cutting which is always funny even when it’s at Charles’s expense, and at worst get harmlessly yelled at for a bit. And Edwin being disappointed makes him feel about two feet tall, like the Case of the Backwards Telescope, and makes him actually mean it when he says he’s sorry. Makes him feel squirmy in a very different way than the snakes in his stomach that his dad made him feel.

So he’s started to think, actually, that there might not be much worse that Edwin can - or, rather, would - do to him, when he’s messed up, than say he’s disappointed.

Until they’ve been hit by a low-level telepathic curse, that lets Charles hear a word or two from Edwin every so often if Edwin’s thinking it so loud he’s basically shouting it into the ether, and vice versa. Charles heard a couple things about his own body that Edwin definitely didn’t want him to be hearing. Charles didn’t mind, of course - was, in fact, quite chuffed. But also Edwin heard some stuff from Charles that he hadn’t wanted Edwin to hear. And that was the reason, although he’s not trying to say it was an excuse, that he did and said some things he definitely shouldn’t have.

And as they were wrapping up the case, Edwin started to say “I’m not angry, I’m just - ” and Charles braced for “disappointed”, but instead the word that rang so loudly in Edwin’s brain that it rang in Charles’s too was hurt.

And Charles realized there was, in fact, something Edwin could say that was a whole fuck of a lot worse than that he was disappointed.

But that’s a story for another time.

[steddieas-shegoes]

black swan

for @steddiesportsau prompt 'dance'

rated t | 3331 words | no cw | tags: ballet dancer steve, ballet dancer eddie, high school, steve has bad parents, not canon compliant, getting together, sort of strangers to lovers

🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰

Steve stops dancing when he’s 12. His dad insists it’s time for him to “grow out of it” and “play a real sport.” It’s fine. It’s not like he’s the best in the class and on a fast track to an invitation to the New York Ballet or anything.

He starts swimming because he has the build for it and it’s easy.

He starts basketball to make his father shut up about being on a team.

The worst part is that he’s good at that too. Not great, not like ballet, but good.

He makes both teams in high school, even makes varsity basketball his sophomore year. He’s captain by junior year.

Sometimes, he stops by the studio he used to dance at, between classes, just to check in with the director and make sure everything’s going well. She always asks if he wants to come back. He always wants to say yes.

****

On his 18th birthday, his parents are gone, and he’s lonely. Nancy’s busy, and even if she weren’t, they aren’t anything except friends. Barely that.

Tommy and Carol have written him off now that they’re going away to college in the fall, and he wouldn’t want to have them over anyway. They’re on a different path than Steve, always have been. He’s just been so desperate for connection, he’s let everything slide.

Just before dinner, he drives to the dance studio. There’s not many classes happening on Tuesdays, but maybe someone will be there to let him in. He doesn’t see any cars in the parking lot, but there’s a light on inside.

The door is unlocked, and music is playing from the back room. It’s a much smaller room, designed for solos and duets only, not group routines. The music is not ballet music, but it could be a jazz or tap routine.

The man dancing is beautiful, in loose sweats and curly hair up in a bun that seems like it’s barely hanging on. He moves gracefully, but there’s an edge to it, something Steve always wished he had, even though he didn’t technically need it. His pointe shoes are torn, much more worn in than what’s recommended for anyone, especially men on pointe.

Steve’s amazed, the way he moves to a song that’s mostly heavy drums and guitar, makes it look like a classical piece as his arms and legs do everything the way Steve used to. He resists saying anything.

Then he catches sight of the man’s face.

It’s Eddie Munson.

Eddie Munson dances?

“What the fuck.”

Eddie freezes, turns to him, falling to the flats of his feet. He looks caught out, as if he’s doing something wrong. He must be allowed to be here if the place is unlocked for him. Eddie might be a terrible student and definitely deals weed out of a lunchbox, but he’d never break into a dance studio just to use it.

He looks like he’s gonna run.

“Wait,” Steve says to stop him before he can. He steps closer. “How long have you danced?”

“Uh, five years?”

So they never took a class together. Steve was worried he’d somehow forgotten.

“Did you always take classes here?”

“I’ve never taken classes here.”

Now, Steve’s confused even more. He’s lived in Hawkins for at least 10 years. He remembers when he started living with his uncle. His first day at Hawkins Elementary set the tone for the rest of his time in school; Tommy and a few of his friends making his life miserable because of his much too large flannel shirt and greasy hair.

Steve had stayed quiet then, just as he did for most of middle and high school.

“How are you in here then?” He asks.

“I’ve had a key for two years. Ms. Laseaux made sure I had one when she had to cut her evening hours during the week,” Eddie explains. “I swear I’m allowed to be here. Don’t call the cops, please.”

“Dude, I’m not gonna call the cops. If you say you have permission, then you’re good,” Steve hates that Eddie still looks like he might run. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. Is it okay if I watch?”

“Uh.”

Eddie’s music stops and the silence is almost as loud as the heavy music.

“It’s okay if not. You’re just beautiful,” Steve says honestly.

Eddie’s face flushes red and Steve has an immediate and overwhelming urge to see how far the blush goes. He shakes the thought from his head.

“Um. I guess I can start from the beginning?” Eddie offers.

“I’d love to see the whole routine,” Steve smiles.

Eddie rewinds the tape and starts it again, gets into position, and changes Steve’s life.

It’s even more beautiful from the start, a whole story unfolding before Steve’s eyes. Instead of the music being a distraction, it builds the emotion. Steve hasn’t seen anyone dance quite like Eddie.

Eddie seems a little nervous, but he never falters. He knows this routine well, front to back, probably back to front, too. It’s stage-ready and Steve wonders if he’s ever performed it outside of this room. He doesn’t think anyone else could possibly know he dances, at least not this well. He belongs on a stage.

He feels water on his cheek and he reaches up to wipe it away. He’s crying.

He remembers the time his mom cried at his first solo during a recital, how proud she was of him, and how proud he was of himself. He wonders if anyone has ever been that proud of Eddie.

“Steve?” Eddie asks.

The music’s stopped and Eddie’s breathing hard from fifth position. Steve’s tears are still falling.

Eddie’s hands cover his face, wiping away tears that just won’t stop.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s amazing; You’re amazing. Please tell me you perform somewhere,” Steve sniffs, smiles at him. “Did you get a senior solo last year?”

“No,” Eddie says quietly. “I can’t afford the fees for actual studio time and it’s required to perform at the recital. But I get to come here once a week and get it out of my system.”

Steve is about to offer to use all of his savings to pay for whatever Eddie needs. He has to get out of here, dance on bigger stages, be seen by people who can get him where he should be.

“The timing of the arabesque, Eddie, it’s beautiful. The leaps are textbook. The way you timed that kick with a cymbal crash. I mean, everything. You’re so technical, but emotional, and it’s like it takes no effort for you. You could easily get into a ballet school or a company,” Steve is talking and Eddie is still holding his face. He’s probably still crying.

“Thank you, but this is kinda it for me. I just love dancing,” Eddie takes his hands away and Steve instantly misses them. He knows he’s feeling a bit lonely– it’s his birthday, after all– but he liked how warm they were, how the blisters across his palm seemed to rub just right against Steve’s cheekbones. “You seem to know a lot.”

“I danced when I was a kid. Here.”

“Really?” Eddie seems genuinely shocked. “I thought you were, like, a stereotypical jock guy. No one’s ever mentioned you.”

Steve laughs, but he feels a pang in his chest. He knows why no one talks about him here. Most of the history of him being here was erased at his dad’s demand.

“Pretty much from the time I was potty trained to when I was 12. I had to quit,” he doesn’t feel like going into a deep dive of why he had to quit while he’s standing in the room he had to do it in. “I still come by to see Ms. Laseaux when I won’t interrupt classes. She was my instructor for six years of my life. She put so much into my lessons.”

“Were you good?” Eddie asks.

Steve laughs again. He’s not as confident as he pretends to be most of the time, but he’s sure of one thing: he was a phenomenal dancer.

“I was her best student.”

Eddie nods like he was expecting that answer.

“She mentioned wishing she could’ve had me earlier. Said she would’ve done anything to pair me with her star.”

Steve wishes more than anything he could’ve danced with Eddie. They would have been unstoppable. His dad would’ve never allowed him to dance with another boy, but the thought still makes him warm.

“I’m sure she would’ve had us in New York or Boston or Europe the second she could,” Steve smiles fondly. “She tried to bribe my mom into going behind my dad’s back for nearly a year.”

“I’m guessing he’s not okay with his son dancing like a fairy?” Eddie’s lip curls up in disgust.

“Bingo.”

“Well, join the club. That’s why I didn’t start until I lived with my uncle, but he couldn’t afford to put me in real classes,” Eddie explains. He’s rolling his ankles one by one while he stands there, something that Steve knows is a nervous habit, one he had backstage before shows. “Ms. Laseaux was a bit sweet on my uncle when I first lived with him. He didn’t have much time for dating, but I think they would’ve fallen in love if it weren’t for me. She wanted to do what she could to help, even when it was obvious they weren’t gonna work out.”

Steve does remember one visit only a couple years after he quit where she talked about a nice man who fell into some unfortunate circumstances, and how she wished she could do more than help his nephew out.

“She’s always been amazing. I wish I brought my slippers, I could’ve at least stretched and tried to learn some of that,” Steve gestures towards Eddie. “Not that I’d do it any justice with how long I’ve been out of it.”

“If you were as good as she says, I think you’d catch on quick enough,” Eddie smirks. “I have an extra pair if you think you can fit?”

It’s a huge no usually. Wearing someone else’s broken in pointe shoes is just asking for bad luck and injury, especially if you don’t know the dancer well. As nice an offer as it is, Steve should say no.

“I could try,” he says instead.

Eddie’s beaming smile silences any doubt he had in his head that this would be a mistake. He rushes to his bag in the corner and pulls out a practically brand new set of shoes.

Steve is hesitant to take them when he offers.

“These look…shouldn’t you be trying to break these in for your own feet?” Steve doesn’t know why he’s wearing torn up shoes when he has these. They look nice, and he recognizes the brand when he turns them over in his head. They are nice. Some of the nicest shoes you can buy without getting into the thousands of dollars range.

Eddie shrugs. “I like these.”

“But these cost a fortune. How did you even get these?”

“I saved up for them. I’ll break them in when I can’t wear these at all anymore,” Eddie smiles, nudges his shoulder to make him put them on. “C’mon, you need to stretch.”

Steve listens, walks over to the corner to put the shoes on, stretch out his legs and back, groaning when he pops his shoulder. He’s been a little tense all week, worried that his parents would come home for his birthday and expect him to do some kind of business dinner.

This is a much better way to spend his birthday.

Eddie is…frolicking might actually be the best word for it. He’s not exactly dancing, but he’s not really walking either. Steve almost gets too caught up watching his movements to finish what he’s doing.

“Do you want me to show you this one or do you wanna show me something first?” Eddie asks. He sounds excited, maybe even more than Steve is.

It’s not like quitting dance meant Steve actually stopped dancing. He just only did it at home, and had to make sure he was alone, which has been increasingly more difficult over the high school years. His friends practically lived at his house, even when he didn’t want them to.

But he’s still out of practice, and probably not nearly as nimble as this dance would require. He’s not sure what he would even show Eddie. His last dance recital was six years ago, and he doubts the tape with his music is even here anymore.

“Um, you can show me some of yours. Maybe the drum part?” Steve’s voice shakes with sudden nerves. He hasn’t had eyes on him while he danced in a long time. He wasn’t built like this the last time he properly danced, either.

Eddie smirks. “The whole song is the drum part, but I know what you mean.”

Steve blushes. Eddie takes position in the center of the room, leaving enough space for Steve to stand next to him.

They look at each other in the mirror. Steve nods.

Eddie moves so fluidly, even when he’s going slower to show Steve. It’s like he’s a waterfall and Steve’s the river below, waiting to take what he’s giving to move it along in a beautiful and seamless way.

It hits Steve when he’s watching Eddie turn that if Eddie’s never taken a proper class, he must’ve choreographed this dance himself.

“Steve?” Eddie’s hand on his arm startles him from his thoughts. “Need me to do it again?”

“Sorry. Yes, please,” he doesn’t know why he can’t focus, but Eddie continues to show him three more times and he still doesn’t quite get the timing right. “Sorry, I think I’m just distracted.”

“Why don’t you show me a routine you’re familiar with?” Eddie asks.

“I’m not sure I remember any enough,” Steve tries to say, but Eddie shakes his head.

“You’re a dancer. You remember.”

He’s right. He may miss a few steps here and there, or get the timing just a bit off, but he can remember most of every routine he ever did on a stage. He does it without music, something that Ms. Laseaux always made him do before recitals to ensure he knew the timing in his head.

He doesn’t pay attention to Eddie’s reactions until he’s done.

He’s breathless, and not just from the dance. Eddie’s eyes are shining, and his lips are parted in a way that makes Steve want to slip his tongue between them and taste him. He’s a bit thrown by the thought, but only because he hasn’t had those kinds of thoughts in a long time. Not since Nancy broke up with him.

Eddie stands from the floor and walks over to him, still seemingly in shock over his dancing.

Steve’s ankles are sore, and he’s a bit mad he chose the hardest dance he ever did. His heart is trying to beat out of his chest. His legs are shaking.

Eddie cups his face, eyes searching his.

“You should have let her bribe your mom,” he says quietly. “You belong on the stage, too.”

Steve feels tears prick his eyes and it’s ridiculous to be crying for the second time in front of Eddie, but he’s a little overwhelmed.

“I miss it,” he chokes out. Eddie nods because he knows. Maybe not the same way Steve does, but he knows his own yearning, his own pain at being unable to perform the way his body is capable of. He might be the only other person in Hawkins who understands him. “I shouldn’t have let him stop me.”

“You were a kid, Steve,” Eddie’s voice breaks. “You didn’t have a choice.”

“I do now,” Steve sounds more sure than he thought he could with tears streaming down his face. “What can he do now that I’m 18 other than cut me off? He won’t. My mom wouldn’t let him and his business partners would think less of him.”

Eddie’s brows furrow. He looks away for a moment, his lips moving around words Steve can’t hear. When he looks back at Steve, he looks heartbroken.

“Is today your birthday?”

Steve nods. He’s not sure why Eddie looks so upset. This is turning into one of the best birthdays he’s ever had and he’s starting to feel relief that he finally feels brave enough to stand up to his dad.

“And you came here?” Somehow, he sounds even more upset.

“I didn’t really want to go anywhere else,” Steve tilts his head as he answers. “This is always where I’ve felt the least lonely.”

“Dance with me.”

They danced already. A little. But Steve thinks he means something different now.

“What do you know?” Steve asks, a flutter in his chest at the thought of touching Eddie, lifting Eddie, feeling Eddie against him.

“Swan Lake?” Eddie asks.

“You know Swan Lake? How?” Steve doesn’t mean to sound rude, but he’s a little shocked someone who’s never even taken a ballet class would know the most famous pas de deux.

“I have eyes and an uncle who buys me tapes of famous ballets from some guy in Chicago. They’re shit quality, but I watch them so often, I’ve taught myself.”

“You’re amazing.”

Eddie laughs. “Let’s see if I can pull it off first.”

Eddie rushes over to the corner, searching through the tapes on the shelf. Most of the popular ballets are there, and Steve knows every piece from Swan Lake is probably on the top. All the seniors tend to use those for their solos.

He finds what he’s looking for and slots the tape in the stereo. Steve knows there’s a slow start to the music, and it allows plenty of time for them to get into position.

It’s easy falling into this with Eddie. They don’t even discuss who will take which part, they just fall into what’s natural. Steve hasn’t spent as much time en pointe as Eddie clearly has, so he takes the male lead, happy just to have his hands gently guiding through the dance. He’s not meant to be the star of the show, and he wouldn’t wanna be as long as Eddie’s the one front and center.

When they finish, it’s easy to close the distance between them, lips brushing together in the gentlest kiss Steve’s ever experienced. He immediately wants more, but he waits.

He may have been leading the dance, but he doesn’t want to lead with this.

Eddie cups his cheek, still catching his breath.

“Happy birthday, Steve.”

It throws Steve off. He almost forgot it was his birthday. He got so caught up in just being around Eddie, dancing, feeling this freedom he only ever felt at the studio.

He doesn’t remember the last time he actually celebrated his birthday. It had to be before high school, even though he remembers Tommy insisting on throwing him a party at his own house with his own food and beer for his 16th. That was less for his birthday and more for Tommy to show off that he knew Steve Harrington.

“You’re okay,” Eddie says.

Not asking. Telling.

Steve believes him.

The next time they kiss is in Eddie’s van, not even ten minutes later, after Eddie asks Steve where he wants to go for a birthday dinner, his treat.

“Benny’s?” Steve asks.

“You sure? Just the diner?”

Steve nods. “My parents are gonna drag me to some five star restaurant next week where the only decent food will be the dessert they don’t bring enough of. I want greasy shitty food and a milkshake.”

Eddie kisses him a third time and puts the van in reverse.

They’re both sweaty from dancing, and neither of them should technically be out this late on a school night, but Steve’s not alone.

It’s his birthday, he got to dance, and he’s not alone.

[katsu28]

hiiiii... first off, i wanted to say that i love your work so so much. i'm usually a silent viewer but i wanted to come out and tell you that your work is absolutely stunning. secondly, i was wondering if you were still taking requests from that prompt list in the pinned post. i was thinking 3,26 and 24 for the absolute comeback lando made during jeddah. if not, all good. do not feel pressured at all to write this ❤️

i appreciate u so much thank u!!! <33

3. hiding face in neck, 24. whispering in their ear, lips touching the skin + 26. kissing the top of their head. lando norris x reader, 1.2k. request something from here :)

Tenth on the grid isn’t near where Lando wanted to be for tomorrow’s race. Crashing out of qualifying definitely isn’t what he wanted either, not for him, but especially not for the team. 

Jeddah is a tricky track, so full of tight corners and narrow straights that it could’ve happened to anyone. It just so happened that he was the unlucky one this time around. 

He’s already beating himself up even before he gets out of the car. Fucking idiot, were his exact words on the radio, echoing through your headphones in the guest area of the McLaren garage, marking the exact moment your heart sank for him. It had already nearly jumped out of your chest as soon as you saw his car wobble, nearly stopped when he slammed into the barrier coming out of a turn. 

A little later, after the session ends and Verstappen has taken pole, you finally find Lando. His feet drag along the floor, helmet dangling from his fingertips as he trudges into the garage looking far from happy. 

His eyes find you immediately after he sets his gear down and you smile at him with what you hope is reassurance masking your concern, waiting for him to make his way over to where you are. He buries himself into your arms as best he can with the box wall between you, hiding his face in your neck like it’ll let him hide from the world. 

Things like this are inevitable in every driver’s career, but Lando has always taken the setbacks rather hard. Always blaming himself, getting in his head about all the what ifs and could’ve beens. You can’t solve his problems for him, but you can help in other ways. 

You squeeze him tightly, as if all your worries and his disappointment could melt away the closer you hold him. He’s here, he’s okay.

“M’okay, baby,” Lando mumbles, words muffled against your skin. Your fingers comb through the damp curls at the nape of his neck, palm splaying across warm skin just so you can feel his pulse under your touch. Lando pulls away just a bit, enough to speak clearly. “I’m fine, I promise. No damage—to me, at least. Car’s fucked.” 

“The team can fix it. They will fix it,” You insist, bringing one hand up to cup his face. Your thumb strokes over his rosy cheek, eyes boring into his with such firmness you want him to feel it too. “Everything will be fine tomorrow.” 

“Promise?” 

You can’t promise him anything—not really—but you nod anyway, sealing when you hope isn't an empty promise with a kiss. “I promise, Lan.” 

-------

You swear you haven't blinked since lights out. 

Your eyes have been glued to the screen above you the entire race, headphones clutched to your ears so you can hear exactly what's going on with Lando. You’ve even got the F1 app open on your phone to track live timings so you don't miss a thing from the depths of the garage. 

With every overtake, every gained position, your heart pounds a little faster. You’re even sweating a little bit, which would be odd given that you’re not actually the one in the car. But when your boyfriend is racing for his life out on track with only a handful of laps to go, you’re a ball of nerves. 

You mutter encouragement under your breath the whole time like Lando can hear you, fingers crossed so tightly it’s starting to hurt as the laps tick down to the final one. Anything is possible until he flies by that checkered flag. 

Lando crosses the line fourth. 

He’d put up a phenomenal drive, fighting his way past seven very impressive opponents, managing his tires, keeping up the pace. In your eyes, he’s a winner all the time, but especially now. With what happened yesterday, a P4 comeback is sure to put some confidence back in him. 

You find him chatting with Oscar after his post-race media duties, completely unaware of your appearance as you start to creep towards him from behind.

Oscar does notice, but doesn’t say anything when he spots you over his teammate’s shoulder, just tries his best to hide his grin so as to not blow your mission. 

Lando's still going on and on about tire degradation when you pounce on him from behind.

“Fucking hell!” He screeches, nearly keeling over backwards before he manages to get his hands under your thighs for support. At the excited kiss you smack to his cheek, he lets out a loud exhale. “Baby, don’t do that! I thought I was being mugged!” 

“In the middle of the paddock? Seriously?” You giggle, both feet back on the ground. You smile at the younger boy across from you. “Hi, Oscar! Mega drive today, congrats on the win.” 

Oscar’s cheeks tinge pink and he grins, rocks back on his heels a little. “Glad you thought so.”

“Alright, mate, don’t you have your own girlfriend to bother?” Lando huffs dramatically, hooking an arm around your shoulders. You roll your eyes playfully at his change in demeanor. “Go on, get out of here, kid.” 

“See you on the plane, old man,” Oscar shoots back, sidestepping the halfhearted swipe Lando takes at him. He holds his fist out towards you for a bump. “Great to see you again.”

“Likewise. Say hi to Lily for me.” You wait for Oscar to disappear into the team hub before turning your attention on your boyfriend, hands on your hips, brows raised. “Why are you like this?” 

“Me? Baby, he was seconds away from giggling like a fucking schoolgirl. I’m telling you, Oscar definitely has a crush on you.” 

“He has a girlfriend, Lando. You’ve met Lily, you’ve seen them together. He’s head over heels for her, and you’re being ridiculous.” 

“Maybe, maybe not. Let’s stop talking about him now.” 

You drape your arms around his neck, tilting your chin up at him with a smile. “You’re lucky I find your weirdness attractive.” 

“Luckiest guy in the world, I always say,” He hums, beaming back at you. “So, what’d you think of the race?” 

“You did amazing today, Lan,” You say, nearly squeezing the life out of him with your hug. He pushes in closer to hear you over the bustle of the paddock and you do the same, putting your lips right against his ear for your next whispered praise. “I’m so proud of you, d’you know that? I'll always be proud of you, wherever you finish, whatever you do.” 

“Yeah, I know,” He says bashfully, grinning ear to ear. His arms wrap tighter around you. “Thanks to you. My lucky charm.” 

“Nuh uh, that’s all you, baby,” You reply with a shake of your head. Lando can only smile bigger, kissing the top of your head four times in succession, four lucky kisses for his lucky charm. “Ready to go home?” 

“Ugh, beyond. I need a fucking shower,” He groans, tipping his head towards the night sky. His gaze snaps back to you just as fast, this time with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Wanna join?” 

“Way to ruin the heartfelt moment, you horndog.” 

“Don’t act like you weren’t thinking the same thing!” 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post a new fic :)

[tinyraptorhands]

This is kinda hard for me to admit. And I know I shouldn't feel ashamed about it, but I do.

As someone who was diagnosed in the 90s (I guess it would be stage 2 nowadays-I didn't speak well until I was 4 and avoided eye contact, didn't connect with people, prone to wandering and did socially inappropriate things.) and went through several therapies and ABA, I never realized how it was basically teaching me to mask. And to this day, I still mask. Like...it became a part of me to the point I barely know if this is me or what. I'm glad people can be more authentic to themselves, but part of me is a little sad I lived in a time people equivicated autism to being mentally challenged (as in the 'r' word.) And would use it as an insult. And whenever someone found out I have autism, I was immediately infantilized. It was hard. It still is. And part of me gets jealous that people can just say , 'yeah, wow I have autism' and not be worried about what others think. It got to a point that when I was pregnant I was terrified my kid would have to deal with the same things I did (endless tutors, endless testing, most of my childhood was in the basement of my childhood home at a small desk while a tutor made me do things like, 'touch red cup' or say simple sentences and stuff. )

While my sister's got to play outside, I had to wait till my 'breaks' which were like...10 minutes. As I got older the hours shortened, and soon they were just tutoring me in math for my Dyscalculia. Tutoring stopped my junior year in high school. I'm actually friends with these tutors now, who were there at the beginning of it all. They became my family. My friends.

But I still mourn the girl who didn't know why she had all these tests and tutors in the first place. Like, why couldn't I go out and play in the pool with my sisters? Oh, missus so-and-so is coming today. Or why I was doing more school work after school ended in my own home that wasn't assigned homework. I found out about my diagnosis when I was in the third grade.

I started getting panic attacks around then.

I had my first brush with depression in fifth grade.

Apparently, that was common for kids with autism as well. Which made me hate myself more.

I tried doing the big sleep in seventh grade after a boy I liked was told I had autism by my angry sister. He had promptly told me he didn't date 'r-tards'.

Make no mistake, I was a weird kid and always knew I was a little different. I just didn't know how much until my parents finally told me when I asked to stop being tutored.

So...I guess, this is all to say while I'm happy people are now more accepting and realizing its all a spectrum and stuff, I still mourn and wonder how different life could have been for the girl who just wanted to have a normal childhood.

(But also to that one tutor Miss Sabrina, fuck you I remember you screaming at me for mistakes I made and getting scared of you and I'm glad your ex husband divorced you cause I don't blame him cause you smelled like cigarettes and were a biiitch wheeee.)

self-diagnosis

there are a lot of older autistic buckaroos, like myself, who were diagnosed decades ago, and while i see some folks in the community roll their eyes or gatekeep about idea of autism self-diagnosis becoming so common in young buds, i love this movement. it takes nothing away from me or my identity

what it DOES do is create a way of personal understanding for young buds who might need this help. it creates a sense of solidarity. AND FOR US OLDER BUCKAROOS it does something unexpected: when i say ‘i am autistic’ i get almost no pushback and complete understanding now. people say 'oh okay'

back in my day, someone skilled at neurotypical masking could NEVER just say ‘i am autistic’ without pushback. there was either confusion, or anger, or dismissal, because folks simply did not even UNDERSTAND what autism was. you think ‘you dont look autistic’ is common now? shoulda seen back then.

so if you are also one of these older autistic buds and you are tempted to gatekeep, just remember: this is a SPECTRUM, and the more examples of the width of that spectrum we have, the better for all of us. we are out here proving love TOGETHER. heck yeah buckaroos love is real

[akkaweo-akkaweo]

Better choices

Naoi Rei x M!reader

Tags: softdom, jealousy, post-orgasm torture

WC: 7.2k

—————

The little digital watch on your wrist beeped on the hour: 10PM. You carried with you a battery-powered mosquito lamp, a bag of nacho chips, and a jar of salsa. Your destination, barely a hundred meters from the door of your house, was a quaint playground in the roundabout-cum-cul-de-sac in your village.

To be more specific, your destination was Naoi Rei, seated on a big, decorative rock near the edge of the playground.

"You're late," she pouted.

"By less than a minute, hello?," you rebutted, setting the mosquito lamp right by her legs. In shorts, she needed it more than you.

"Hmph," she pouted harder.

"Don't fret now," you said, as you reached out to grab her shoulder, which she grumpily pulled away from you with a huff.

You clicked your tongue. "Alright, guess I'll just have to eat these nachos alone," you muttered, emphasizing the last word. In a snap, Rei moved a bit to the side to give you space.

"Apology accepted," she rolled her eyes.

As neighbors for the majority of your life, Rei had always been like this with you; this meeting spot was hallowed ground for your friendship, and talking time like this an inviolable agreement. Even when you both went to different colleges, got jobs, or experienced any manner of trouble in the dead of night, the rock remained the rendezvous point.

"Lemme guess," she said, forcefully grabbing the bag of nachos from your hands, "Sooyoung." You sat down, opened the jar with held breath, and took a loud sigh.

Tonight's agenda, as it had been maybe 3 or 4 times now: Sooyoung, a girl you met at work. Well, "met at work" is a loose description, considering you "met" for the first time when she asked you about chips at "work," in the convenience store nearby.

"Usual opening question," Rei asked, a mouth full of nachos. "You still wanna do this?"

"I'm not wasting any effort, okay?," you rebutted. "It's not over 'til she says it's over."

You've been trying to woo Sooyoung for nearly a year now. Successes include a meaningful chat over coffee, a fairly uninteresting movie where you held hands, and a less-than-stellar bar crawl.

"Okay," Rei said with a groan. "Here's a thought: offer to go with her clothes shopping?"

"Clothes shopping?," you remarked. "I mean, doesn't that come off... weird?"

"You're literally the only person I know who'd say that," she replied. "Unless you wanna stare at her tits in the dressing room like a perv, no, it's not weird."

"Bruh, what the fuck?," you reacted. "No, I meant it'd be weird to buy her clothes."

"Again, you're literally the only person who'd say that," she replied. "Women would never pass up an opportunity to get more stuff for their wardrobe."

You grumbled as you sat on the rock, back against Rei. This rock used to be big enough for the two of you; now both of you were more leaning on to it and using each other as ample support.

"It's not that, it's... she's not reciprocating, and I would be offering to give something material. Out of my own pocket. That's a waste of effort." You scratched your head, irritated.

"Well, you're not wrong there, though I'm pretty sure you've spent on her more than once," Rei said with a mouth full of nachos, still holding the bag hostage. "I mean, let's look at it now: you've taken her to the movies, you've had a café date, you've gone drinking without sex..."

"Rei," you groaned, remarking at the aside.

"You've offered hiking which didn't materialize, you offered a blackbox theatre date... That's as much as anything you can offer in this boring ass town, and you spent on those too," she continued.

You slicked your hair back in frustration. "I just wish I could get a clearer sign with her, you know?," you added. "That's it. I want to know if I should even...," you trailed off.

Rei let out another exasperated sigh. "Dude, obviously you don't want to stop chasing after her, so why wait for a sign? You could always just read into it that she's waiting for you to do the right gesture. Or offer the right date. If she's intentionally playing hard-to-get, play harder."

"That's why I need you here," you replied. "I have no idea what that would be or how else."

"So quit your bitching and just offer what I said," she retorted. "The worst that can happen is that she says no, and you'll beg me to come here for more plans. Big fucking deal."

Now, you and Rei are best friends without question, but you know when she gets worked up. An imaginary klaxon rang in your head: she was in that territory, and that was a first.

"Alright, sorry," you relent. "I'm just paranoid, I suppose."

Silence – rare even for Rei and her usual side comments about your questionable decisions. All you could hear was the quiet munching of nachos.

"Any nachos left?," you asked, and Rei shook the bag as audible proof it was close to empty.

"So, uh," you asked, "how's that guy you've been trying to ask out?"

"Gave up," she said coldly. "Unlike you, I know when to quit when I'm not wanted."

Silence again, no less awkward. So much more awkward that you're patting your thighs and tapping your foot silently, trying to resist the urge to walk away. But the sinking feeling in your chest wins out.

"Well, thanks for the advice. Keep the salsa," you said. "I'll... leave you to it then."

You slowly get up, trying to feign leaving, when Rei started sniffling. "I really wish you'd get the hint," she whispered.

"Wait, Rei, wh–"

"I said I wish you'd get the fucking hint, you doofus!," she hissed as she stomped her feet, looking back at you over her shoulder. "It's always Sooyoung this, Sooyoung that, or maybe even Vicky this, or Jen that, it's always gotta be someone else!"

You stayed frozen. "Rei–"

"And here I am, crawling to you every single time you need me because I want to be with you, hoping you're gonna realize it one day," she cried, almost bawling. "And all you ever do is just fuss over more women who will never give you what I can!"

You're not just frozen now; you're shellshocked. Sure, you always had a nagging feeling asking Rei about other girls would be a bit awkward, but you never assumed she'd ever take it personally. More than that – that she had any feelings for you to take it personally.

"Rei–," you tried to speak, more firmly, but Rei had already gotten up.

"No. I don't want to talk to you," she responded. "Not about work, not about your life, not about other girls. Just leave me alone." She walked briskly into the darkness; you sat there, surrounded only by the screeching of cicadas, the lamp and a jar of salsa on the floor, and the ringing silence in your ears.

The hundred-meter walk home felt more like a kilometer, the excruciating length of it fraught with rewinding to every single time you were with Rei.

"I wish you'd get the fucking hint."

There was this one night when you asked Rei for help when you were seeing a singer-songwriter who was very into Laufey, an artist you'd only heard by name before then. Rei made you an entire playlist even before you got to the playground. You spent the night listening to the music, and she would tell you all about the "lore" of her: her twin sister, her ethnic background, the jazz inspiration, etc.

"What's your favorite song of hers?"

She twirled a strand of hair around her finger pensively. "Maybe this one," she said, cutting the song to her choice.

One day, I will stop falling in love with you,

Some day, some will like me like I like you,

Until then, I'll drink my coffee, eat my pie, pretend that we are more than friends,

And of course I'll let you break my heart again.

"Wow," you reacted, "it has such an old sound you don't hear anymore."

"Hmm," Rei reacted, staring up into the black sky, even though there were no visible stars in your neighborhood.

"What do you like about it?," you asked.

She looked at you, her eyes glistening from the halogen streetlights. Her blank expression turned into a smile you'll never forget, only because you've almost never seen it on her: her eyes scrunched up until you could question if she could still see, her grin nearly ear-to-ear, hiding a deep chuckle.

"I guess I just relate to it a lot."

You laid quietly on your bed, tears welling in your eyes as the song blared in your headphones, staring up at the ceiling of your pitch black room.

You were worse than a doofus. You were a dumbass.

=====

"I think we should stop seeing each other," you said sternly to Sooyoung.

"O-okay, um," Sooyoung responded. "W-well, if that's what you want..."

"I just need you to answer me honestly," you added. "You were never into me, were you?"

"I mean...," Sooyoung scoffed, trying to find the words. "Look, you're a great guy and all, and I really enjoyed the dates, I really did. But... you're just not my type. And to be really honest, I was trying to let you down easy. I thought you'd never take the hint."

That stung, a little. Maybe a lot more than you ever ought to have felt.

"Then... before we call it quits, can I just ask you something? I need your... advice," you sighed.

"Okay? Go ahead, I'm listening," she said, turning the chair around for you. "You're taking this a lot better than I thought."

"Thanks. Uhh...," you scratched your head, trying to figure out a proper way to explain everything. "So, I've been talking to someone else to get advice. About our dates and stuff."

"Sounds like a great friend, if they suggested all those things we did," Sooyoung remarked.

"They did... she did," you corrected yourself. "Actually, more than just us. About a lot of personal stuff. But girls and dating in particular. Ever since we were kids." The more you explained it, the more ashamed you felt. "She... told me the other night she was hurt by me asking for help about the girls and dating part."

Sooyoung rubbed her neck. "Yikes. I sorta figured where this was going halfway through your story. I suppose you've figured out what that means, right?"

"Yeah. admittedly a little late," you paused. "But... am I too late?"

"What do you mean by that?," she asked.

"Let's say I wanna... try and date her," you continued. "Am I too late to ask her out?"

"Honestly?," Sooyoung replied, "It's not so much if you're too late or too early if she really likes you. But, if this girl were like me and I was in her shoes, I'd want some form of assurance that I'm wanted by you. I mean, you've literally told them you were interested in other people. Other girls. Girls that weren't her. It'll take a little bit more than 'trying' to date. You need to want her, choose her."

You fell silent. Sooyoung likely saw the gears turning in your head.

"Maybe start there. If you wanna take her seriously, why would you? What's there to like about her?," she continued. "You're a sweet guy, really. You don't need to change a thing about yourself, for now at least. But you gotta make all of that choose her, or she'll never believe you."

Sooyoung's phone started ringing. "I'm so sorry," she remarked, "just remember what I said. Do it with purpose, and with someone who can appreciate you more thoroughly." She then stepped out, both literally and figuratively.

"Goodbye," you whispered to the empty seat in front of you.

=====

The little digital watch on your wrist beeped on the hour: 10PM. You were sitting on the rock in the middle of the neighborhood playground, an unopened bag of potato chips in hand a battery-powered mosquito lamp by your feet.

You shook your foot anxiously, and checked your phone again, probably the 12th time in the past 10 minutes.

You looked at your text to Rei: "Meet at the rock, 10PM" – the same message you've been sending her when you ask to see her, and the same unanswered message you've sent after that night. This was night #4.

A part of you wanted to leave it with finality, to accept Rei was fully done with your shit. She had every right to be, and you didn't think she was wrong for it. But you remembered Sooyoung's words: act with purpose.

10 minutes passed. Then another 10. You thought you heard someone heading to you, but it was just a lone night jogger. Then another 15.

A hooded figure suddenly walked up to the streetlight, wearing a pair of light pink pajama pants with a still indiscernible cartoon print and chunky rubber slides. Her face was obscured, but you didn't need to see it to know who it was. You stood up in... excitement? Frantic? The feeling didn't matter.

When Rei was finally right next to you, she had no makeup on, her eyes very puffy and reddish. Her face was scrunched into a scowl, but softened as you looked at her.

You reached out to hand her the potato chip bag. Without words, she grabbed it gingerly before taking a seat on the rock. You sat the same way, back against hers.

You struggled to find the words to say, the right ones at least. You wanted to say everything right away, that you were sorry and you were insensitive and self-centered.

Rei heaved a heavy sigh. "You can say anything you want," she replied. "Stop overthinking it."

You tried to angle your body a little bit more towards Rei. "Remember that night after the school play?"

Silence, though you heard her breathing sound shaky.

---

"Um... I want to leave the Science club."

You dropped your sandwich. "What?! B-but why?"

"Because... I just got into the school play," she said with a subdued smile.

You slammed your hands on the table excitedly. "Oh, forget the Science club! That's amazing! When's the show?"

"End of the year," she replied, loosening up to your cheer. "But I need to quit to focus on rehearsals and all."

"Yeah yeah, totally," you said, and hugged her tight without thinking. "I'm so happy for you!

---

"Hey Jen," you asked your cute friend in the Science club, "what's a good color of flower to give someone?"

She looked at you, puzzled. "Color?"

"Yeah," you continued. "Or type. Design? I don't know, I've never learned about flower names."

"Design?!," she replied incredulously. "So you've never heard of poinsettia? Chrysanthemum? Geranium? Jasmine??"

"Um... violets like the color? And roses!," you replied excitedly.

Jen slapped her forehead. "O-kay. And here you are in the Science club."

"I'm a chemistry guy, okay?," you defended yourself. "Please help me."

---

At the end of the show, you waited by the backstage with a handful of three white roses and three violets. You didn't have that much money, but you wanted to get Rei her favorite flowers – fortunately the only flowers you knew. Rei stood out well, delivering her lines with clearly and making everyone laugh with her witty lines. She deserved these flowers.

5 minutes passed. Then another 5. Then another actor came out, noticing you.

"Oh, you looking for Rei?," he asked. "She went out with her friends in the other direction. Sorry."

Without thinking, you texted her right away. "Meet at the rock, as soon as you can."

---

"I waited for you that night," you continued, "even if you'd left. I ran to this rock and waited, even if you were late, like actually late. Even if I was tired, and sweaty, and full of mosquito bites."

You heard Rei sniffling.

"Rei, I'm sorry," you said. "I wasn't... attentive. I was selfish. Or self-centered. Whatever the word is. I wasn't looking at what was right in front of me." You paused, trying to gauge if Rei was still capable of listening.

"I hope you believe me, but before everyone else it was you," you said, holding back your own tears. "That was almost 10 years ago. I'm not going to pretend that I currently reciprocate your feelings for me, but I want to try to bring back what I felt a long time ago."

Rei paused and sniffled. "I still have them."

"Huh?"

She pulled out her wallet and pulled out a folded piece of paper, with one rose and one violet dried up and pressed on it.

---

It was almost 11:30PM. You'd been waiting at the rock for almost 40 minutes. You'd rushed to the rock, no snacks or mosquito lamp or flashlight; just you.

Your legs were shaking. You felt your heart race only slightly slower than how it was waiting outside the backstage. You felt your fingers get cold, even when your palms were sweaty. You barely could sit still.

Of all the classmates you've ever liked, this feeling was the first you attached to one – and it was Rei.

You heard and saw a car drive up to her house, and saw a figure step out of it. You stood up, wanting to see the figure better, but there was no need – the figure started running hurriedly to your direction.

"Rei! You were–" you tried to say, before all of her crashed into you at full speed. You almost got knocked off your feet, if not for the rock catching your fall. Which hurt a bit, but you ignored with Rei's tight hug.

"I'm so sorry! My friends just whisked me away, I was actually looking for you, and–," she frantically replied.

"No, it's no bother, really! You were great! I got you these–," you said at the same time, before stopping and pushing Rei away in shocking realization.

"Ow! Hey, what was – oh no!," she exclaimed.

In your excitement, you hugged with the bouquet between you, the paper wrapping ripped apart by the moisture and the flower petals bent out of their original shape. When you let go of each other, it had fallen to your feet.

Rei looked at you, tears suddenly starting to well up. "I'm sorry...," she said softly, "I didn't–"

You picked up the flowers, offering it to Rei anyway, feeling your cheeks flush with heat and your heart thumping in your ears.

"I got you these," you said softly. "Sorry it's a bit... yeah."

She went in to hug you, making sure the flowers stayed in your hand and away from you while she did. She held you in a hug for a long while, both of you calming down.

---

You held the paper in your hands while Rei spoke.

"That night, when I got home, I remember pressing the flowers one by one," she explained, "and I remembered that with every flower I did, I was extra careful and extra giddy. And that's when I knew I liked you." You folded up the paper the way she did.

"I didn't really... have a crush on you or anything either," she continued, her body starting to face yours. "But a part of me kept thinking, 'if he asked you out, I'd say yes right away.' So I waited."

Rei looked away again. "Then you started going out with Jen," she added, her face more distraught. "Then that didn't work. Then there was that girl you met at your freshman mixer. Then it was... I don't know how many girls you talked to me about. But every single one felt like there was one thing I had but two things I didn't."

You started anxiously biting your nails. How had you not noticed this sooner? How could you completely have ignored someone who you ran to incessantly?

"But I stayed because you meant a lot to me too," Rei said. "I don't regret any of it. I don't hold it... no, I did hold it against you for a bit. A while. A long while. Maybe I still do, just a bit."

She fell silent. She wasn't crying anymore, but you could imagine her face looking very close to weeping.

"I guess all there's left to say is," she added, "I wanna give you a chance."

You didn't quite have the words, but your body was telling you to move, to act.

Grabbing her into fireman's carry, you lifted her with all your energy to sit onto your lap. "Whoa, hey, what are you doing?!," Rei reacted. You were now both face to face with each other, foreheads and cheeks pressed up. You felt the warmth of her breath, and paused.

This was it, the feeling that was missing. You went through every single time you went out with Sooyoung, then all the times you went out with Rei. You thought about all the places you'd gone with Jen, then remembered all the times you went there first with Rei. You remembered every single date you've been on, then brought yourself right back to this moment. Rei was the missing piece – the yearning for reciprocation, for recognition, for a sign, and like a puzzle she belonged right there, in your embrace.

You didn't even think too hard about what to do next. You planted your lips on hers, briefly — and everything felt right.

When you parted from her, she looked at you, stunned, for a whole second, before she closed her eyes and dove into your lips, for twice as long.

"Finally," Rei smirked, "thought you'd never figure it out."

You kept on kissing, the screeching of crickets and birds around you interrupted only by the smacking of your lips against one another. Rei's lips softly cushioned yours as your heads twisted, trying to push each other in more deeply than physically possible; but such was your appetite for her, and hers for you, yearning to dig deeper for everything that was just unearthed.

You released your grasp on her and she looked at you, her scowl dissipated by a more sincerely warm and toothy smile. She didn't have to explain anything further, all her feelings told by the smile plastered on her face.

"Rei, I'm–," you started, but silenced by a single finger on your lips.

"Stop," she butted in. "Save it for later. Just hold me first."

You brought in your thighs under her to hold her more closely, still cradling her like a baby. She wrapped an arm around your shoulder and nuzzled her face on yours, releasing all the aggression she had pent up.

Every time you shifted your position, she used her other hand to fix it back in place with a light slap. "Stop ruining my moment," she hissed, though her tone gave away that it was less hostile and more clingy.

She released you from her grip and stared at you again. "I'm ready to forgive you now," she said, a hint of sass audible in her voice.

"What an honor," you replied, rolling your eyes. She grabbed your face between her fingers, squeezing your cheeks.

"Shh," she rebutted, "you're not off the hook yet." She stood up, offering a hand to you.

You held it, though looked at her puzzled. "Wait, where are we going?"

"My room," she replied, starting to pull you towards her house.

"Wait, but your family–"

"Not home," Rei said curtly. "Just trust me."

You dropped your hesitations and let her pull you in, following her into her house, up the stairs, and into her room. The lights were off, and before your hand reached the switch, she stopped you.

"No," Rei said firmly, "I wanna do this in the dark." Your mind started racing – was this really happening? You've never gotten this far with a girl, you've never prepared for it either mentally or materially, but you weren't against the pace things were going. Maybe you were even excited.

In the shadows, you saw Rei take off her shirt, her silhouette only accented by the plain white walls and cabinets in the room. You saw the curves on her body, the way her breasts rested on her body, her bare legs and thighs smooth and slightly toned. She stood a bit awkwardly, but with purpose.

"I don't just want you to like me back," she replied firmly, "I wanna prove to you I'm better than all of them."

Rei stepped closer, her body only slightly illuminated by the moonlight streaming from her window.

"Do you want me like this?," she asked, her voice shaky.

"Y-yes," you stammered, still shocked at the pace of things.

Your heart raced. You knew Rei to be competitive, or at the very least petty enough to do the most out of spite. You couldn't possibly imagine how she was going to utilize that burning passion in the moment.

"Rei," you said, "are you sure you wanna do this right now?"

She stepped forward until she was face to face with you, her breath warm just inches from your face. She removed your shirt and pants, letting them fall to the floor. Her eyes pierced into yours.

"Yes," she said with determination, "I'm gonna make sure you never forget me."

Rei pushed you down by your shoulders to sit you on the bed, and knelt by your feet. She pulled down your underwear and let it sit by your feet, then crawled up in between your legs until her mouth was right up to your groin.

"Look at me," she spoke sternly.

Keeping her hands on your legs, she dipped down to catch your dick in her mouth, held in place in between her lips. With her lips almost vacuum sealed against the tip of your erection, she shoved her head into you, forcing your length in as if her mouth were immovably tight.

The feeling of her lips grazing against your length, lubricated by her tongue swirling around your shafted continuously, was incomparable. When you let go of her gaze to throw your head back in ecstasy, she dug her fingernails into your thighs to grab your attention.

Rei sucked you off with almost mechanical pace; she covered your length from base to under the tip with consistency, not so fast that she was ramming herself into you, but definitely slow enough the you weren't writhing and ramming yourself into her in chase of stimulation.

"Fuck, Rei, fuck," you reacted, watching her eyes stare unmoved from yours. Even when your legs trembled, her hands held you firmly in place. She even moved her hands down to your ankles and heels, wrapping her forearms behind your calves.

"Fuck, Rei, that's so good," you continued, her pace only slightly picking up. "Holy fuck, holy shit."

As you approached your climax, you started uncontrollably bucking your hips, as if chasing after her. Yet Rei continued at her pace, unchanged even with your disruptions. It was almost torturous keeping yourself from finishing.

"Rei, please, I wanna cum, I'm so close, faster," you begged.

"Mmm-mmm," she said, shaking her head. Still Rei continued at her pace, your head now fully facing up at the ceiling. Your eyes were wide open, even rolled up as you approached climax.

"Rei, Rei," you called out her name. "I'm gonna, I'm gonna–"

Then she stopped, popping her mouth out from your cock. You twitched for a few times, then your hips started bucking in search of her mouth, thighs shaking uncontrollably. Rei stared at you with a devilish grin, as if mocking your current state.

"Are you okay?" she asked, rubbing your thigh. You didn't even know what to reply; it felt good – amazing, even – up until that moment she denied it from you. You just stared at her, wide eyed, confused.

"Great," she replied with a smile. From her bedside table, she pulled out a lip tint, applying it to her lips until it glistened in the moonlight.

"Okay, let's mark that... one," she remarked, gingerly tracing a single, horizontal line on the inside of your bare leg with the tint. "Ready for number two?"

"Hold up, what do you mean number–" was all you could utter before Rei took your cock in her mouth a second time. She engulfed your dick in its entirety in one go, until her painted lips landed at the base of your groin.

She kept the suction in her mouth as she slowly – very slowly, almost dragging her lips across every vein on your shaft – lifted her head. When she got to the bottom of your swollen head, she released her lips and took your length in again, repeating the process.

You've never felt the sensation before: you were sensitive, still close to your orgasm; but you could feel something still pooling up within the base of your cock, even adding to what was already there just before she stopped sucking you.

After three more slow and gentle bobs of her head, Rei's lip tint left a faint stain around the base of your cock, wet from saliva and very much visible – like she had wanted to leave it there. She teased you a bit more, sucking only the half inch right under your head, before releasing it with a pop. Your mouthed barely formed a coherent sentence, overwhelmed still by the ticklish sensation on the underside of your shaft.

She released you briefly to purse her lips, keeping them moist, before resuming back at the same consistent pace she was at just earlier. Rei stared at you with unmoving, almost dismissive eyes; you felt her soft, luscious lips press up against your groin as they landed at the base of your dick. Her tongue pressed up on the underside of your shaft, the tip just barely tickling frenulum. All that, and you felt her pace pick up, her face slamming a tad lighter onto your body.

"Fuck, I wanna cum so bad, Rei," you groaned. "God, you're good at this." Rei chuckled with your dick still in her mouth, the vibrations adding stimulation.

Again, you neared your breaking point. Your breathing turned into loud gasping and moaning, until all you were saying was her name over and over again: "Rei, Rei, Rei." The suction on her lips broke as she smiled, now shoving your dick as far deep into her throat.

Except it didn't reach the back of her throat, Rei's face and nose instead slamming into your hips. Even when it was practically buried in your pubes, she still stared at you with hungry, lustful eyes.

"Rei, I'm gonna– fuck, I'm– hah, fuck–," you bumbled, your torso rocking back and forth as she continued to suck harder and faster. You could feel the swelling tide of cum in your shaft, ready to burst, and you bucked your hips in the air...

Then Rei stopped, again, releasing you from your grasp. Your hips stayed in the air, chasing after her mouth, and you groaned aloud in frustration. One, two droplets of white spilled from your tip, which Rei watched as it slid down your shaft. You reached a hand for your cock, intending to stroke yourself to completion, but Rei suddenly lunged at you, shoving you fully onto the bed.

"I told you I wasn't gonna make you forget me," she said mischievously. "But you owe me for making me cry my eyes out the whole week."

You gasped for air, out of breath from being denied a second orgasm, but you didn't move as proof of submission. She grabbed a long ribbon from a drawer and sat you up, tying your hands behind your back. She made you sit with your back to the headboard of her bed, reapplied her lip tint, and drew another line down from the previous one on your thigh. "That's two," she cooed.

Now you felt a pain in your groin, like from the denial. You still felt a load ready to come out with the right amount of coaxing, but judging from Rei's treatment that wasn't going to come easy.

She took you in her mouth again, this time going even slower than before. Unlike the second time, where she was more frantic and hasty, she returned to her pace from when she started – mechanical, consistent, tantalizing.

But this time the sensation on your dick was different. It tickled, almost painfully, but in a stimulating way – you wanted it to keep going and end right now.

Still Rei sucked on, her lips covered in spit. She started to spill so much drool from her mouth that it began coating your shaft, slowly dripping over your balls and onto the bed. The trails left behind were cold in the air, even when it started spilling onto your taint.

Now you were seated completely on the bed, legs splayed outwards, while Rei laid on her stomach. You could see her ass in the dark, not wide but definitely sizable, like you could grab a whole handful of it. You've never noticed these features on Rei – not her boobs or her butt, maybe her thighs the few times your hormonal teenager self ogled at all the girls in your PE class – but you realize now that she was just as hot as a lot of the girls you've dated.

She let go of your cock to flick it with her finger a single time. "Ow! What the fuck was that for?!," you whined.

"I said, look at me," Rei growled, swallowing your dick whole right as she said it. The sharp pain from the flick actually made the load welling up in your shaft retreat, and now you weren't sure if she was grabbing attention or keeping your orgasm delayed again – maybe even both.

That delay never came. She picked up her pace again, the pain in your balls increasing as you could feel them trying to squeeze out a third one. Though it welled again at your base, you now felt all of your cum fill up your length, from base to tip. As Rei's sucking continued, you felt yourself twitch, and you swore that the trails of saliva she left started turning whiter.

"Rei, please, I'm so close," you begged. "I wanna cum so bad..."

"Keep begging," she muttered, as she picked up her pace yet again.

"Rei, you suck me so well, holy fucking shit," you praised, hoping that would encourage her to let you actually finish. "Your face looks so fucking hot while you take me whole."

Rei started moaning at your words, and you notice one of her hands, while the other was wrapped firmly around your base, was in between her legs. Each moan she made only brought you closer to finishing.

"Please, Rei," you begged, "I wanna cum so bad, I wanna cum for you so bad..."

Rei let her mouth go of your dick and started licking your frenulum vigorously. The extra sensation was enough to start breaking the dam, and your mouth blubbered to make sure she knew that "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum– agh!"

With one final thrust in the air, you burst, as Rei's hand around your base let go. For a split second, you swore time slowed down as you saw your cumshot burst into the air – which you've never, ever seen – then another, and another, and another. The sudden ecstasy of your release made you increasingly lightheaded, almost blanking out

After what felt like minutes, you came to, and Rei's face was completely drenched in white, viscous globs of cum, dripping onto her chin. Her mouth, agape as she caught her breath, bore strings of cum that spanned her lips, trembling with every pant she made.

You stared at each other. She smiled in satisfaction, licking her lips and lapping up all the cum she could with her tongue. You finally found the presence of mind to laugh, your high fully felt as it coursed through your bones. "Holy fuck, that was amazing," you remarked, and Rei gave you her toothy smile in pleasure.

She pulled out her tint again to mark your leg – a single line right next to the second, now looking like T mixed with an F. "That's three," she chuckled, "you're crazy, you know that?" You breathed heavily, gasping for air, still laughing.

Without warning, Rei gobbled up your dick again, now doubly aggressive than how she sucked you prior. Your eyes widened, your abdomen crunched, and your hips tried to retreat into the bed, only being stopped by said bed against Rei's relentless bobbing.

You writhed and laughed as the sensation turned more ticklish, as your shaft felt every ridge on Rei's lips rub against it. You laughed, groaned, even yelped as the sensation blended into the pain in your balls from being wrung dry.

"Rei– hah, stop! Fuck, stop!," you begged. Rei groaned her rejection of your request, replacing her mouth with the quick stroking of her hand.

"Come on, take it," she taunted. "You owe me all of it."

Your body twisted and contorted from the extreme sensation. But surprisingly, you could still feel something welling up in your shaft – your release merely held back by the ticklish sensation.

Rei rubbed you faster, scraping off some cum from her face onto yours until it was slick, sliding, and squelching with her grasp.

"One last," she reassured, "give it to me. I want it all over my face. I want it all over my mouth. I wanna feel your seed all over me. Make me yours. Mark me. Claim me."

Your writhing was frantic and aggressive. If not for Rei's weight on your legs you would have shaken yourself free, but your arms were still held back. No amount of retreat stopped Rei's unrelenting stroking.

"You're mine," she growled, taking your whole length in one last time. That last line of dirty talk was all you needed, and you cum another – a fourth? – time. It disappeared into Rei's mouth, but when she let go, a few streaks of drippy, clear fluid left a trail around your tip.

You panted, eyes heavy from exhaustion and ecstasy and head buzzing. You felt Rei trace another line inside your thigh. "Four," she teased, "if only we could make that five." Worn out as you were, you felt your dick twitch still, the prospect of being used by Rei surprisingly a turn on.

Rei clicked her tongue at the sight of you, slowly kissing your sensitive cock. Each one was light and cold at each touch, making you twitch and shudder harder and harder as she continued. She giggled as she continued, picking up the pace.

You heaved to catch your breath. "You're... very... pleased... despite... being sad..."

Rei paused her kissing. "Sad? I wasn't sad," she replied, dragging her tongue from the base of your cock to your tip, with a slow, dick-achingly long drag. "More frustrated. I've wanted you for so long and you kept wanting others. Now that you're mine, I'm never letting you go."

You laughed in panic. "Okay, I'm sorry... Fuck, I've never... never had a blowjob... like that.."

Rei giggled as she made another long stroke on your dick, your groans even louder behind hard-gritted teeth.

"You sound like you're in pain," she cooed, her tone seemingly mocking you. "You want me to stop?" she dragged her tongue once again, intent to continue until you stopped her. But you said nothing, merely groaning and gasping for air, eyes almost watering at how sensitive you felt. And Rei loved watching you squirm.

Like the end to an elaborate ritual, Rei took your dick in her mouth fully, wrapping her lips tightly around your head, forcing it through her mouth, and keeping the seal tight around your shaft – the same way she started. Inside her tongue did most of the work, stroking the full underside of your dick as she bobbed her head gently up and down the lower half of your shaft.

Painfully, you squirmed, feeling something pool at your base. "Fuck, stop! I'm gonna– fuck!"

Before you realized it, you squirted into Rei's mouth – squirted, meaning you felt a sharp jet of liquid spray out of your dick. Rei had let go of you just before you did, the fluids coating her face, your torso, your thighs, and the bedsheets.

With that, you let out a single laugh, and felt the ringing and the blackness in your field of view take over.

=====

When you woke up, the sun was almost about to rise. On Rei's bedside, her alarm clock read 5:39AM.

You tried to get up by propping yourself up with your hands – revealing that your bindings have been removed. Your groin ached and your member felt sore and sensitive, and you groaned to summon all the strength you had in you to get up.

Hobbling to the bathroom, you realize your skin felt surprisingly clean. You had been sweating and drenched in all manner of ejaculate last night, yet you felt like you'd taken a clean shower.

When you got to the bathroom, you turned on the faucet and rubbed your face, trying to wash the grogginess out of your system. When you opened your eyes, however, you found a little surprise: Rei left her lip tint counter on your thigh, the lines now forming the character 正. Around the base of your dick was a pink stain, the same ones caused by Rei's lips.

You grinned instantly – she accomplished her mission. "God damn," you muttered to yourself, "definitely the best blowjob I've had."

"Good," Rei replied, suddenly waiting at the door. You jumped, instinctively hiding your crotch in your hands. Rei tossed you your underwear and pants, and you swiftly put them on. She however wore your shirt, which fit her nicely – stretching down just past her hips that she was fully, but just barely, covered up.

She held your hands in hers, swinging them playfully. "I think I went... a little overboard last night..."

"You think?," you laughed at her.

She tilted her head and looked away. "Well... maybe I planned to go overboard..." She could barely hide her smirk.

You rolled your eyes. "I sure hope I've apologized sufficiently then."

"Hmmm," Rei replied cheekily, "take me out on a date first. Then we're even."

You embraced Rei tenderly, rubbing your hands on her back as she rubbed her face into your chest. Things felt right – for once you weren't just giving, but receiving twice over.

"I'm sorry for taking you for granted, Rei," you said softly into her hair.

"It's okay," she said, her face squished into your bare chest. "Don't go."

You held Rei by the shoulders and stared at her. She smiled from ear to ear, her eyes squished so much she looked like she couldn't even see. That's the Rei you liked.

"So," you replied, "how about we go clothes shopping?"

—————