#USE THOSE BICEPS TO STRANGLE ME MAYBE?

[umflowers]

📷 @.hannahjimileen / instagram

[thesassypadawan]

Addicted (Stephen x FemReader)

Summary: You love your sweet baby boy, but you know how much of a pretty little liar he can be. Especially when it comes to something he wants.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there sooo much of the smut. Mission, refusal to pull out, slight mommy kink, and… Stephen’s cute, big dick.

Notes: I would love to hear what all you, lovelies, think! If you would like to see more of Stephen! If so...I already have another idea in mind! ❤️

- It’s in the way he exhales; breathy, laced with the sweetest whimper. Just barely audible over the lovely, lewd sounds of Stephen’s clumsy thrusts.

- You can practically feel his impatience. See the look of dizzy, drunk pleasure on his angelic face. Clearly on the verge of his orgasm with the way his compact muscles tense…how his neck strains deliciously. “Good…feel so good…”

- Sweat gleams on his skin in the faint light. As well as the angry, red scratches you left on his biceps…chest. “Sucking me back in…clenching around me…”

- The scent of sex lays heavy in the air when he begins to twitch. His calloused hands grip your hips harder. Pace picks up, drives grow more erratic. While he sputters out… “S-shit. You’re g-going to make me…make m-me…”

- “P-pull out, baby,” you pant softly. Writhing beneath him, head tilted slightly to the side. Showing off all the adorable marks he left behind. “You need to p-pull out.”

- Strokes become uneven, sloppy. He shakes his head and something wild, defiant flashes in those blue eyes. “N-no. Please, m-mommy. I want to m-make a mess of this p-pretty pussy…”

- Instinctively you try to push him off, but his hold tightens. Pinning you to the bed, pressing you into it with his weight. “Coat these t-thighs; cover those s-swollen folds…”

- You know you shouldn’t. That you should be more forceful; attempt to fight back, put him in his place. Demand he releases on your stomach, like always. But he looks so sweet, so desperate…you can’t deny him.

- Legs wind, lock securely. Hands cling to his shoulders, pulling him close. Walls flutter while your lips ghost over the shell of his ear. “All right…just this one time though…”

- “T-thank you…thank y-you… I p-promise… Only…only…” Movements falter, stutter. Long fingers digging in, bruising you. As he buries his face into the side of your neck, hot breath and soft curls tickling your skin.

- “O-one…onnnce…” Slamming awkwardly, brutally. Strangled moan flies from his mouth and he cutely cums. His warm seed pumping you all full, making you…

- Wail out at the sudden load. Coil in your stomach finally snapping, sending you crashing over the edge. Crying out; gushing all over his cock, milking him for every drop. Head reeling in the best way possible, barely able to think…because it’s just too good. Not that you'll admit it.

- He babbles, whimpers. Tongue lapping, teeth nibbling gently. Continuing to pound and fuck you through his high. “Warm…s-so warm…” Until the last spurt paints your walls and he stills.

- Propping himself, he hovers above you. Chest heaving, face all flushed and splotchy. Glasses crooked and completely fogged up. “That…that was a-amazing.”

- Try as you might, you can't help but giggle at his adorably, pathetic state. Cupping his pink cheek, tapping it gently. “Glad you enjoyed yourself, but don't get used to it though. One time only…got it?”

- “Y-Yeah…” He mumbles, reluctantly pulling out. Gaze locked on, entranced from the way that creamy whiteness seeps from your core. “O-only once…”

- That something wild, defiant flashes in those blue eyes once more and you know… That by the end of the night you’ll have lost count of how many times he’s cummed inside you… That it’s too late to stop Stephen now… Now that he’s addicted…

- Oh, well… Maybe you'll get a cute baby or two out of this, out of your pretty little liar…

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @adorbzliz, @sythethecarrot, @divineani, @decaffeinatedunicorn, @fuckmyskywalker

[dante-mightdie]

yes this is hurricane porn i haven’t dated in 3 years my coochie got cobwebs in it, i’m a little deranged LEAVE ME BE.

farmer!john loves those cozy rainstorm days. he is a sleep old man, after all.

but one thing price loves about this weather is its ability to keep you grounded. it’s like your body melts into the rain and somber scenery, and you get sleepier and more bound to the couch or bed.

he loves it. he gets to make you a warm dinner, tuck you under his arms while you doze off to movies set on automatic play, and maybe a little later make you come under that maternity sleep dress.

one leg lazily draped over the spacious couch, subconsciously scratching your scalp while you both sleep. you’re on his chest, using his abdomen as a pregnancy pillow, because the day he can’t support your weight is the day pigs fly (u could be carrying triplets it does not matter). all is well and quiet in the farmside manor until 3 or so hours in when you’re a little squirmy.

you are sleeping, genuinely, and it’s one of the things price has always found so cute and charming about you. your little cunt will talk to him before you even open your eyes to realize as much. he can tell it’s needy squirming instead of uncomfortable squirming because (well, he’s set you up with everything you could possibly need) but also because it’s more in your hips and waist than anything else.

watches as you move from moving over to pushing your thighs and cunt into his leg. lets you do it until he can’t help but groan out in that deep sleepy voice of his and drag his fingers up your thighs. he’s cupping and kneading one of your cheeks in one hand and dragging his hand up and down the other when you wake up.

“j.. john?” you ask, sleepily, muffled against his chest.

“hey darlin’.. looks like you need a little something from me, huh?” his hand wipes over you slit and catches at your clit under your panties, feeling the silky substance leak over his fingers.

“mmmh.. mhm.”

“cmon.. roll over, get comfortable mama.” he tells you, assisting you however you need.

his hand moves to kneading your breast while the other stays in its rightful place down your panties, gathering a little slick from the mess you’ve made in them and drawing circles around your clit.

then, the hand from your breast moves to below your bump as he caresses and pulls it upward to remove some pressure off your back and spine, which is arguably more pleasurable then what his fingers are doing to your clit. gets a mixture of a sign and a moan out of you.

“you’re so good to me..” you mewl up at him, clearly already immersed in the pleasure.

“y’ carryin’ my kid.. i better damn be,” he replies, beginning to speed up his fingers, causing you to arch up momentarily before giving into the pressure of your tummy.

(he also loves how pliant pregnancy makes you)

“more,”

“c’mon, play nice. y’know i shouldn’t be going too hard on ya..”

“c’mon daddy, please..” price has been calling you mama since you first told him you were pregnant, but one you started calling him daddy back… you had him wrapped around you finger.

with a huffed chuckle, he switches to circling two fingers around your slit, collecting your slick, before he begins to slowly insert them.

“mmmhh.. thank you…” price doesn’t reply, but instead begins kissing you, dragging you bottom lip into his mouth and grunting into yours.

one of your manicured hands, the ringed one, reachers up and claws into the bicep of the arm that’s pumping his in and out of you. your lips are parted against his in a mostly soundless, strangled moan.

“i know mama, i know,” he coos at you, still supporting your stomach.

price keeps his pace, seeing the way you begin dragging your legs and squirming with as much space you can bear to with your tummy and all, pushing you toward the edge. he does, however, adjust his fingers just enough to hit your gspot)

“yesyesyes please don’t stop.. please don’t stop,” you plead with him, knowing he had no plans to, and feeling the white hot pleasure building in you.

it’s not long before you’re letting out long, quiet moans and cumming on his fingers.

not even 20 seconds after, you’re yawning and rolling back onto his chest.

“took what i gave you and goin right on back to sleep, huh?” ‘nd presses a kiss to your forehead.

and just like that, his plump little pregnant wife is out like a light again. no need to drag her out of the nursery decorating, or the kitchen baking, or her hobby room. she’s all tuckered out, thanks to him and the rain.

- i’m going to name myselfff… ☕️ anon

i’m the one who asked if u did emoji anons btw yeah idk why it took me this long to say something..

also ur anon was off im pretty sure

farmer!john my love <3333

[lustlovehart]

Bitten Hope

A/n: loosely inspired by @merakiui ‘s DRU Jade and Death Row Floyd, not exact though, but I really liked her writing on their serial killer counterparts and took inspo!!

Pairing: Serial Killer! Jade Leech x Reader x Serial Killer! Floyd Leech

Summary: Interrogating criminals is your job, it’s rare for that to go wrong. Though, it’s even more rare for them to be infatuated with their investigator.

Warnings: Heavy Yandere [mdni] , Blood, Biting, Cuffing, Kidnapping, Violence, Dub-con kissing (not on mouth), aged 18+, Imprisonment

You’re stood on the other side of the one-way-looking glass. You can see them, but they can’t return that gaze. The two of them aren't eerily silent. No… they’re laughing and conversing as if this was just a regular brotherly reunion. To them, it might just be that, two brothers who are finally talking to one another after a year of only speaking through calls.

“Seems you’re still the same, Floyd”

“Well duhh, I don’t have that time you do to plan them out, I jus’ wanna get it over with”

“Perhaps that’s why you were caught much earlier than me.”

“Well you got jailed too so that doesn't change anythin’” Floyd leans back in the chair, his head craning up to look at the bright buzzing lights of the room.

“Ya think they’re gonna bring Shrimpy in?“

To this statement, the other twin looks at him, curiosity filled in those mismatched eyes.

“My, are you saying [name] is here?“

“Oh right, I didn’t tell ya cuz it woulda’ been lame if you knew,“ his head jumps back into place, a bubbly smile replacing his previously disinterested expression, “Yep! Shrimpy’s here, ain’t that nice~“

On the other side of the glass, you’re left balling your fist into itself.

How… How could they—!

A steady hand on your shoulder breaks your trance, the familiar sight of bright red somewhat comforting the tension in your joints.

“They were off-putting in our school years but, no one would’ve known how it was gonna turn out this way.” You place your hand above his, offering a smile to him to show your body easing itself.

“Yo Jade.”

“Yes?” Once again, Floyd’s mood changes, shifting from cheerful to… scary. The same aura can be felt from Jade but to a more concealed degree.

“I wanna break the glass.” You and Riddle's head turn immediately at the man’s suggestion.

“Pray tell how would you do that?” he tilts his head and strikes his signature close-eyed smile at his twin “And why do you wanna do that?”

“Dunno, wait till these cuffs come off.” His hands lift as the sound of clanging chains resonate through the empty room, his brother only smiling as he looks down at his own. “And I don’t like the vibe I got on the other side.”

You quickly move out of Riddles range, his hand grasping for where your shoulder previously was.

“Wha— You’re going in alre—?! [Name]���” You don’t reply, the sound of the door swinging open and shutting filling the silence of the space.

“Oh my. You should be more careful, any stronger and we could’ve broken free from these.” You sit on the other side of the steel table, crossing your legs as you lean into the cold metal.

Floyd’s been on death row for a month now, but he hasn’t given any leads. And Jade… he just got here. Maybe if the both of them are together we can…

“When. You can tell me.”

“When are we gonna marry Shrimpy? As soon as we get out—“

“No. When did you start? Killing. When did you start being murderers.” Jade lays his hands on the table, his biceps and forearms visibly buff as well as veiny.

“When do you think?”

“ Are you avoiding the question?”

“No, of course not, I’m just simply asking if you know—“ Floyd’s upper half quickly flops onto the surface, a loud sigh interrupting you and Jade.

“Since the last year of school, now can we talk about Shrimpy ‘stead, talkin bout us is boring”

“Floyd…” Jade's lips are pursed in a line, he expected his brother's outburst but he hoped it would come later compared to sooner.

“Whaat, the faces people made when I strangled them aren’t fun to think about anymore,” his body stays flopped, only turning his head as his smile is aimed towards you. “So shrimpy, yah still single right~? Savin marriage for us yeah?”

“You… I am not!”

“But you’re still available? I see.” Their flirtatious comments only serve as a way to piss you off even more.

“You two… I’m not going to marry serial killers…!”

“Then do not think of us as killers, think of us as your lovers.”

“I will not…! Ugh… just be quiet and answer me.” They don’t reply only giving you the smiles they would flash at you when school was still happening. I can’t be obvious with my questioning—

“About 250.”

“Jade, what are you talking about…?”

“You were about to ask us how many victims we’ve had yes?”

…

…What? What? We only linked 8 of those murders to Jade how could he possibly—

“Floyd, what about you?” Floyd looks up at the sky, his face almost cartoony as he ponders about the answer as if he’s on TV.

“Uhhh, dunno. I didn’t count. Was a big number too though.

… How did these two even—

…

“ Where are these people now? How did you do it to them?”

“Shrimpy wants to know real bad huh’. Okay, I’ll tell yah.“ you didn’t think his grin could grow any bigger but it does, somehow. “but yah gotta lean in close.”

Ignoring the obvious risk of getting too near, if you do this… you have the opportunity to finally know what’s happened to all these people. All those missing person cases… you can find out just how many of them were the faults of these two.

You look back at the glass for a moment. Knowing that Riddle is on the other side eases your tension, albeit only a little. Well…

You hope he’s on the other side.

Your body slowly leans towards him, each second making you wanna back out, but pushing through it despite that gnawing feeling.

Floyd’s smile seems to be the biggest it's ever been. His face comes closer to your own, his voice low as the whisper that leaves his lips sends chills throughout your body.

“Ya ready?”

It happens too fast. He’s swift with the movement, before you can fully lean back to avoid it, you can feel it. His lips are felt on your cheek before the tender texture is replaced with sharp edges that dig into the nape of your neck. Your fingers lock into his hair, immediately pulling yourself free from his Jaws.

The chair you originally sat on is knocked back onto the floor. The clattering sound of the seat resonated through the walls.

“Awwww shrimpy looks cute with red all over!” He flashes his teeth, once white canines, are now painted in red. The sight makes you freak out, both of your hands flying up to the wound in your neck, putting immediate pressure on the bite.

He didn’t hit anything vital, only deep enough to bleed me… but if I don’t get this wrapped up it might get infected.

You don’t spare them any more words, immediately walking to the door and gripping the handle. You swing it down pulling the exit inwards.

…

It won’t open.

It won’t…

“My I do wonder where that other officer went…” Your head stays locked on the handle, not even daring to turn back to face them.

“Goldfish s’out already? I wanted him to see you in red, ain’t that his favorite color?”

“How did you…?”

“Tarts, they do smell incredibly sweet, don’t they? Though, I do prefer eating their consumers instead.” It’s uncanny. Jade is putting on that… that smile…! He’s spotless, unlike his brother, the brother that’s exuding such a joyful aura with blood splattered on his mouth… The brother doesn’t seem bothered at all by the iron liquid that is absorbed in his jumpsuit.

“So that’s how… That’s how you covered up the rest of your victims…”

“Yes. Now do you understand self-control as well?” His eyes slowly trail down to your hands as he speaks, his tongue quickly wiping his lips before retreating inside. “It takes a lot of restraint to not take a bite out of such a lovely meal. I’m quite jealous of Floyd.”

“You wanna…?”

“Eat you? Oh no, not anymore. But, just a little nibble doesn’t hurt any—“

Clang!!

Your focus is caught by the sudden explosion of sound. Your eyes quickly shift to the interruption.

“So that’s how you gotta do it. It ain’t that much Jade, you jus’ pull up real hard.”

…

Floyd is out.

“It was that simple? Then let’s be quick.” Jade follows his brother's instructions, the same clanging sound ringing in the space. “It’s much more comfortable not having our hands chained to that cold metal table. It seems I even have bruises on my wrist from such capture.” He’s not lying, his wrists are littered with purple bruises, but you bet he was the one who caused those himself, not the cuffs.

“Look look!” the two of them circle the table, each step they take more menacing than the last. “Jades got a booboo on him, you gonna kiss it all nice and better right~“

Jade plays along seamlessly, wiping away tears that aren’t there at all. “Yes… It hurts a lot, it would feel much better if someone made it all better.“

“you…! I’m not going to-!“

“Jades hurt. You gonna fix him or what?“ His voice is deep, it’s not playful anymore, and his face is practically inches from your own, it’s horrifying... If you keep rejecting them you… You don’t wanna guess what’ll happen.

Riddle… Deuce… Why isn’t anybody coming?! Even if Riddle left for a moment he should be back, even then someone would’ve checked up on us…! Where… where…?!

“Won’t you heal me, nurse?“

This was so stupid! I should’ve come in with Riddle, or told him to come in with me! With how quickly I rushed in I didn't bring any of my weapons I’m…!

Your knees give out beneath you, falling onto the floor while the twins followed you down. Your fingers reach towards Jade, pulling his limb close to your mouth. The two of them smile at you, watching carefully each movement with an overabundance of joy.

Your lips make contact with the skin of his wrist. You don’t focus on the texture of his hand, only putting all your attention on this task.

“It still hurts dear, I would like more.“

This is humiliating.

“Shrimpy’s cute kissin’ you like that, I wanna take another bite.“

You keep going with Jade, placing more kisses on that one wrist before transferring to the next one.

Someone… Anyone please…!

Floyd leans into the side of your neck, the side completely clean and, un-marked. His mouth opened and his hot breath coated the skin of your side. You don’t stop your assault on Jade's hands, only acting as if Floyd isn’t readying himself to bite you again.

I’m gonna die. These two are gonna kill me.

To your right, wind blows next to you, the brighter light of the hallways illuminating into the room.

Someone… Someone came…! I’m free…!

“Rid–!... dle…?“

“You two… You couldn’t wait any longer than 20 minutes could you?!“

A man wearing a black hoodie and surgical mask walks in, the baseball cap and sunglasses covering any distinguishing traits he could possess.

“Ah, seems we forgot. Forgive us Azul.“

“It's not our fault you took so long, it wasn’t fun waitin’, we just wanted to mess with Shrimpy for a bit, s’not fair you got to play while we were locked in here.“

No… No…!

It’s been years since you’ve seen the con man. His looks have changed, but, he’s still the same it seems.

Hopefully… he doesn’t work out. Distantly, you can remember a point in time when you had wrestled Azul during your school years, albeit it was more of a surprise attack than an actual fight. You won against him.

Against the twins, even in NRC they had insane strength, so directly fighting them would’ve been a death wish, but with Azul, you might have a chance.

You pull all your leftover strength into your calves, pushing yourself up from the space between Floyd and Jade, ready to throw yourself at the man.

Before you even have a chance you’re pulled back down as a needle is pointed at your face. Jade's hand is tightly wrapped around your throat as Floyd’s arms squeeze around your waist.

“It’s rude to leave in the middle of a ‘party’ Is that not what you said to us back then?”

“You guys are leaving? Why?! A… special meeting? But I made all of you presents…! Look, I spent so much time making little eels and even an octopus…! Don’t go yet—! Oh, you’re not…? Great!”

“Where… Where’s Riddle…? Deuce…? Please I need to know—”

“They’re alive. Just asleep.” Azuls eyes look to the side, a little red blob reflected on his lenses when he turns.

“Really…? Good good…”

“But only if you behave.” His leather shoes take a few steps forward before kneeling down, his eyes scanning your body. Mostly unharmed, besides the vicious bite Floyd left on you. “Floyd did you really—” his eyes pinch together before his finger massages the nose of his bridge, the most exhausted exhale leaving his mouth at the sight,” It's… whatever, unless you two wanna stay on death row we have to go now.”

My best choice is to let them go, I'm unarmed and no one else is coming so… I’ll just use the building's cameras to figure out what they plan to do next.

“You guys can leave, no ones… no one’s going to stop you—” your body is lifted into the air, your stomach having the sharp pain of a shoulder blade driving into it.”w-wait stop…!” your legs kick and flail all around, but the hold Floyd has on your body doesn’t falter for a second.

Before you can lift your arms to hit him from behind, Jade locks them together using a spare pair of handcuffs he stole off Riddle’s unconscious body. His finger plays with the chain between the cuffs as a smirk plays on his lips at your struggle.

“I wouldn’t advise it.” His finger makes your hands move up and down before hooking the underside with his index. He doesn’t let up, successfully locking your hand from further use.

“We have 10 minutes to drive out of here, you two are lucky this place is on the edge of town.”

No… Please…!

Before you leave the room, your eyes take a glance at Riddle's body. It’s only a slight bit of movement, but you can see him stir up, his head turning to face the doorway.

He can’t move. It’s over.

The last thing you see before being swept away is the bright red of his pupils widening at the sight of you bitten and taken.

“[Name]… Stop… Don’t take…!”

A quick glance is all it takes before his eyes shut close again, the last thing his vision pieces together being the sight of your form carried away from view. The tall silhouettes of Jade and Floyd shrouding in shadows as they leave through the doors, the hooded figure waving his hand before following behind. The trail of officers littered behind them is a sad sight.

As they leave, their disappearance will leave a stir in their community, all that’s left being the view of their successful escape.

“[Name] [Last], missing, please call 911 if any leads.”

———

This is leaning towards heavier dark tones than what I usually write, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway <3

[abitohoney]

Suffocate Me

(A sequel to the sequel to Roses are Red)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5

AO3

This contains Explicit smut, so NSFW, MDNI Sevika x female reader 4.8k words

AN: Thought I was done with this ficlet, but then anon sent me a funny video in this post and I was inspired to write another chapter, so here you go!

It's only been a week since Valentine's day, and you're already dying to have another night with Sevika. She certainly hadn't been exaggerating about leaving you tired as hell after fucking you in the tiny supply closet. Took you several days to get back to walking like you didn't have something stuck up your-

The door to The Last Drop swings open, pulling you from your horny thoughts. It's closing time, so you're prepared to shout at whatever hooligan decided to let themselves in, but your scowl immediately shifts to a smile spread so wide your cheeks hurt.

Speak of the devil.

And she's looking right at you with an equally wide smirk.

Leaning on the counter, you push your boobs together and further out of your blouse. A blouse that already barely contains them.

"Hi Sevika," you say coquettishly as she saunters up to the bar across from you.

“Hey beautiful,” she replies smoothly. She makes no effort to hide how her gaze drops to your obvious display. Zero shame. As a matter of fact, she goes so far as to pull a small, folded piece of paper from beneath her cloak and slip it between your cleavage. And not without making sure her fingers graze over the curves before she pulls her hand away to rest her arm on the counter. “Since you seem to like poems so much,” she husks, finally meeting your eyes again.

You try but fail to keep your massive grin at bay as you anxiously pull the note out and unfold it. 

Roses are Red The sun gives off heat If your legs are tired Use my face as a seat

When Sevika catches how your eyes go wide after reading the last line, she adds, “You did tell me your feet were tired last time."

Smiling coyly up at her from beneath your lashes, you reply, “I did. And they’re so much worse tonight. I really could use a nice place to sit.” You fold the little note back up and slip it beneath Sevika’s leather sleeve, making sure you run your hand over her bulging bicep before pulling back.

The two of you enter some sort of flirty standoff. Eyes locked and teasing smiles in place. Hers; a sexy, lopsided grin. The one that makes your knees weak and your stomach flutter. Yours; a sweet, playful grin, which you’re pretty sure has a similar effect given how her pupils dilate when she sees it.

Your little game doesn’t last long before you catch the approach of a pair of swinging blue braids.

“Hiya Toots!” Jinx exclaims to you as she takes a seat on the stool beside Sevika. Like, right beside her. Nearly touching her. “Ogre,” Jinx grumbles when she finally regards Sevika.

You watch as Sevika’s shoulders tense and her demeanor does a complete one-eighty. Brows knitted into a deep frown, she’s about to spit out something nasty to the tiny girl next to her, but Jinx beats her to it.

“See! I told ya she’d like the poetry! Gotcha laid too, didn’t it?” Jinx exclaims far too loudly, evident by the strangled sound Thieram makes from the back of the bar. She turns back to you again. “The ogre’s got some pep in her step now. She’s prancing like a fairy rather than clomping like an ogre.” After a glance at Sevika, who is fuming beside her, she amends, “Yeah, maybe not a fairy. Still an ogre, but you get my point, don’t ya, toots?”

You try to hide your smile and stifle your giggles behind your hand. Sevika may detest Silco’s nutty adopted daughter, but you think she’s actually quite amusing. Especially with how easily she can get Sevika riled up.

Jinx’s bright eyes flick between the two of you. She’s just grinning from ear to ear. She leans towards Sevika, her gaze still on you. “And see! There’s those heart eyes I told ya about! She’s just swooning over there like a lovesick puppy!” She leans her forearm on the table, getting herself closer to you and ignoring the fact that she’s pushing Sevika’s arm out of the way in the process. Poking the very angry bear. She curls a finger, beckoning you closer before putting the side of her hand to her mouth like she has a secret to tell you.

You lean in closer, trying so hard not to smile at her antics because you know Sevika is damn near blowing steam from her ears. But for the love of Janna, this is all too funny.

Jinx whispers, but still very clearly loud enough for Sevika to hear, “Listen, I need you two to keep doing whatever nasty shit you two have been doing. I mean she has been a lot less cantankerous and… ogre-y than usual, ya know? Can you do that? For me?”

You simply nod, not trusting yourself to refrain from bursting into a fit of giggles.

“Knew I could count on you!” she exclaims as she leaps from her seat. “Hey, Chuck! A drink please!”

“It- It’s Thieram.”

“Nope. It’s definitely Chuck.”

After Jinx skips to another seat further down the bar, you turn to regard Sevika. And if looks could kill, Jinx would most assuredly be dead. Literally full of knives with how Sevika glares daggers at her. Trying to diffuse her anger, you reach up and gently trace a finger along the scars decorating her cheek. She turns to you, and that anger starts to fade rather quickly. “This gorgeous seat still open?” you ask seductively as you run your thumb over the plush of her bottom lip. And there goes the frown. Completely replaced by that sexy little smirk of hers.

"For you sweetheart? Always," she purrs. Gently taking your wrist into her hand, she brings the back of your hand to her lips to place a kiss there.

If you weren't already grinning like a fool in love, you sure as hell were now. "Your place then?"

"Mhm," she hums and takes a step back as you hoist yourself up onto the bar as you did last time. Her gray eyes go wide when she takes in the tiny, tight shorts you're wearing. They leave very little to the imagination. "Wear those for me?" She asks with a cocky grin.

"What makes you think I didn't wear them to get more tips?" You tease. You have definitely been wearing more revealing clothes since your last night with her in hopes of pulling her in for another. But she doesn't need to know that.

Sevika raises a brow. Probably in a mixture of disbelief that she was wrong, and that you'd even have the gall to say such a thing. But her crooked smile quickly returns as she runs both metal and flesh hands over the tops of your exposed thighs.  "Doesn't matter. They'll be coming off with the rest of your clothes."

Your cheeks flush and you take the opportunity to try to hide it by calling over your shoulder to Thieram, "See you tomorrow!"

He stammers some sort of response, but you're too focused on Sevika pulling you down and into her strong arms to give a shit. Sevika gazes down at you ravenously, both hands gripping the backs of your thighs and the curves of your partially exposed ass cheeks. And if you didn't have a damn audience- particularly the young blue-haired Jinx- you'd let her fuck you right here and now. Instead, you settle for a quick kiss. Hands on her shoulders, you pull her down to you as you stretch up on the toes of your knee-high boots.

Well, you thought it would just be a quick kiss.

Sevika's grip on your backside strengthens as she greedily returns the kiss. She forces her tongue between your parted lips, chuckling quietly when you moan into her mouth.

Fuck. She tastes so good. Like danger and sex and confidence and-

"Bleh! Gross!"

Jinx's loud complaint pulls you back to your senses and you break the kiss, much to Sevika's dismay.

"I know I told ya to keep doing the nasty shit, but I didn't mean right here! Geez! Get a room!" Jinx gripes.

You smile bashfully at her as she rolls her eyes so hard you're certain she's going to fall right out of her seat. "Sorry, Jinx. We're heading to her room now." Before Sevika's mood can fully sour at Jinx's interruption, you give her a quick kiss on the tip of her nose. "Let's go. I really need to sit down."

Smirking, Sevika releases her death grip on your backside and slips her human arm protectively around your waist to guide you out the front door.

The walk back to her place is chilly and uncomfortably clammy. Wrapping your arms around your chest, you hug yourself to try to fend off the goosebumps that start to creep over your exposed skin. "I'm cold," you pout when you catch Sevika eyeing your puffed-out chest.

Without a word, she switches sides with you and pulls you under her cloak.

Though you can feel the cold press of her metal arm wrapped around your waist, the heat radiating from where your body presses to hers is more than enough to make it worth it. Not to mention the scent of her that permeates from where her cloak sits just below your nose. You inhale deeply and close your eyes, allowing Sevika to guide you through the dark streets of the lanes.

The moment Sevika gets you inside her apartment, she doesn't even wait for the door to close before scooping you up into her arms bridal style.

Though you should have expected that, you still release a startled yelp. With one arm wrapped around her upper back, you grin up at her as she carries you toward her bedroom. “You’re so strong,” you swoon, relishing in how that stroke to her ego earns you a toothy smirk.

Sevika gently lays you across her bed and places an entirely too-sweet kiss on your forehead before not-so-gently ripping your boots and socks off.

“Impatient again?” you tease as you watch her from where you’ve propped yourself up by your forearms.

She doesn’t grace you with a reply, but her lopsided grin remains as she leans over you to pull your shorts and panties off in one fell swoop. After kicking her own boots off to the side, she starts to kiss her way up your body.

Her kisses begin sweet and chaste, trailing from an ankle to the top of a knee. But as she leans over you, hands pressed to the mattress beside your hips, those kisses turn into little love bites along the top of your thigh. Teeth sink into soft flesh before tongue laps and soothes the sting.

"Sevika," you whimper breathlessly as that warm mouth draws ever so close to the apex of your thighs. You want her there. Need her there. So bad. But she ignores your unspoken plea and lifts your shirt up to reveal more skin. And as she continues her path up your abdomen, you can feel the sinister curl of her lips against your heated skin. She knows exactly what she's doing. Teasing you. Getting you worked up and needy. And you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on. Your whole body burns and aches for her touch, but the longer she makes you wait, the better it will feel when she finally gives it to you.

When she reaches the band of your bra, she uses one hand to yank it down, revealing both breasts before latching onto one. She wastes no time in sinking her teeth into the sensitive bud, tugging just hard enough to border on pain.

Again, you can feel her sexy little smile press against you when you release a startled gasp. Her tongue swirls around your singing flesh to ease the sting of her bite.

"Fuck," you curse as you arch your back, pushing your chest toward her mouth. But she doesn’t give you that control long before she pulls back, leaving you teeming with desire for more.

Knees and hands now on either side of your body, caging you beneath her, Sevika smirks down at your expression. Your half-lidded eyes. Your furrowed brows. Your parted lips. You look desperate for her. You are desperate for her.

You slip your fingers through the soft strands of hair at the back of her head and pull her down for a kiss. She gladly obliges, her tongue slipping between her lips to slide over yours. That damn tongue of hers, you’re certain, is one of her greatest weapons against your defenses. Not just in her wit, snark, and sexy little quips, but in how she uses it to assert dominance. The way she uses it to tease along your lips, only to pull back when you try to take it. How she trails it across the backs of your upper teeth, again refusing to let you stake your claim. How she finally finds yours and all but assaults it with how wild and deep she kisses you.

But right now, you need that mouth and tongue of hers elsewhere. So with your palms pressed to her chest, just below her shoulders, you push with all your strength. To your surprise, and hers, you manage to toss her onto her back against the mattress. Quickly moving to straddle her waist, you grin down at her victoriously as she blinks up at you in shock. That wide-eyed look doesn’t last long though before it's quickly replaced with a taunting smirk.

“Who’s the impatient one?”

“You’re the one who offered me a seat,” you reply as you remove your shirt and bra before tossing them somewhere behind you.

“Best seat in the house,” she replies and you have to bite back a laugh at how cheesy that is, and instead offer your own equally cheesy response.

“Best seat in all of Runeterra.” You flash her a sly smile to match hers.

Sevika merely grins up at you as she trails metal and flesh hands up the back of your thighs and guides you up over her body on your knees.

“Are you sure about this?” you ask, recalling how your legs had given way the last time she used her mouth down there.

She raises a single brow.

“Last time you were down there I lost control of my own damn legs,” you remind her, “I might end up suffocating you.”

“I want you to suffocate me,” she replies with a sinful smirk that disappears between your legs as she moves you into position.

That unexpected and sexy remark wipes the cheeky little smile clear off your face. Arousal winds like a tight coil deep within your belly and you take your bottom lip between your teeth to fight back to moan that threatens to escape. And fuck, the mere sight of Silco’s deadly right-hand woman lying between your thighs is enough to leave you speechless and at her mercy. Your thighs nearly shake with how bad you want to feel that hot mouth pressed against your wet and wanting-

“O-oh fuck,” you moan with a shaky breath when the tip of her tongue teases just outside your entrance.

Unlike your previous encounter, Sevika seems to favor a slower, more teasing approach this time. Using only the very tip of her tongue, she traces along the wet outer edges of your cunt. Gray eyes watch with entirely too much satisfaction, you think, as you struggle to remain still for her.

“Don’t tease, Sevika,” you whine as you clutch at your own thighs. Janna, do you want so badly to just take control. To grab her by those lovely ebony locks and just grind against her gorgeous face.

“Patience, sweetheart,” she murmurs. But the sexy brute beneath you lets her lips graze over your folds, clearly intentional given how she chuckles at the way your thighs tremble.

“We’ve already established neither of us are pa-” your rebuttal is cut short by the unexpected flick of her tongue against your clit. And this time your restraint flies right out the damn window, hips thrusting towards that devilish muscle of hers. “Fuck!” you cry out. And damn it, you get at least one good drag against that sweetly soft, round nose of hers before she’s pressing her fingers bruisingly hard into your hips and putting you back in place.

“I told you to be patient,” Sevika growls, accenting her words with a sharp bite of nails into your flesh.

That certainly gets your attention. You freeze, blinking several times as you stare down at her in surprise over the sudden change in tone. But, oh, she doesn’t look angry. She looks wickedly pleased. Too wound up with arousal, you simply offer her a small nod that you understand, hoping that will be enough to placate her.

“Good girl,” she purrs.

You no more than drop your jaw to release a moan at that sweet praise when you feel her pull you down to her mouth. And this time, she presses those soft, thick lips fully against your core, tongue delving deep inside. Your hands quickly find purchase on the iron rails of her headboard, gripping tightly as pleasure wracks your body.

Patience be damned, Sevika immediately drags her tongue back out, withdrawing not only the slick coating your walls, but also a broken, deep moan from your throat. Before you have a moment to recover, to regain the strength in your aching legs, she’s pulling you back down around her tongue again. She repeats the motions, this time dragging your clit over her nose. And for the love of Janna, she’s fucking you with her tongue and it feels so ungodly good. You don’t even notice the bruising grip she has on your hips as she repeatedly lifts you off her face only to pull you back down against it over and over again. Not when she’s left you desperately trying to contain the mewls, curses, and moans that build with each wave of pleasure that motion brings.

Mind completely clouded with unadulterated lust, the need to release that searing hot pressure that's built in your abdomen, you release the headboard to run your hands up your body. You need more stimulation. You let your head fall back as you grasp at your own breasts- kneading, squeezing, and rolling fingers over the hardened peaks- all while she fucks you with her mouth faster and faster. You no longer attempt to withhold your cries of pleasure. It's not as if you can hear them with how your pulse throbs in your ears.

Climax quickly approaching, you let your body take over, hips bucking in tandem with each descent she brings. But before you can reach that peak, you feel a sudden decline, Sevika losing her momentum. One of her hands, her human one, slips away from your hip.

Heart racing both with arousal and now the panic of losing grasp of that sweet release, you peer down at her through the slits beneath your lids. Sevika’s eyes are just as heavily lidded and dazed. However, you notice her gaze, though not focused, is on your hands where they still play with the supple flesh of your breasts.

“Sevika,” you plead softly.

Nothing.

For fucks sake you need her to pick that pace back up. You try, with little luck, to pick up her slack, thrusting using what little strength remains in your aching legs. It’s just not quite enough and she doesn’t seem to hear your plea, so you make one more attempt.

“Sevika! I- I need you to go faster!”

Somehow, through the blood roaring in your ears, you hear something rattle behind you. Slowly, you glance back over your shoulder, and you nearly cease your movements altogether at the sight before you.

Sevika’s thighs are spread, belt undone and jingling as she touches herself beneath her underwear.

Oh, fuck. That is so hot.

She’s touching herself to the sight of you getting off on her face. You turn back to her and wrap one hand around the headboard again, determination renewing your strength just enough to get your rhythm where you need it. You focus on her face, nearly crumbling as you watch her struggle to keep her eyes from rolling back behind her lids. Deep, quiet groans pull from her chest, muffled by where you now mercilessly grind your wet cunt against her face.

Janna, you’re practically suffocating her. But isn't that what she said she wanted?

Both of you struggle to focus, watching the other fall apart with the fast approach of that euphoric release. Neither you nor Sevika can keep your eyes completely open. Brows- glistening with beads of sweat- pinch together in a mixture of concentration and pure ecstasy. Movements becoming jerky and uncontrolled. Your hips stutter. Her fingers falter. Breath leaves both of your bodies in heated, ragged bursts between your mewls and her groans. Yours echo freely through the room as they fall from your slack mouth, while hers are muted against your cunt.

With just a few more drags of your swollen clit across her nose, you’re the first to fall off that sweet precipice. Your thighs clamp around Sevika’s head like a vice as the pleasure consumes you. A string of expletives mixed with her name falls from your mouth while you cling desperately to the headboard. Vision fading to black, you don’t notice how the sight of your orgasm, the feel of your release seeping onto her lips and chin, finally pushes Sevika over the edge.

Her metal fingers dig into your hip, piercing the skin. Her hips jerk erratically against her hand while her fingers carry her through the waves of pleasure. When she slowly recovers from her high, she opens her gray eyes to stare up at you in a daze.

As you start to come to your senses, your thighs release their death grip against the sides of Sevika’s head, trembling as they threaten to give way to your now dead weight. You peer down past your heaving chest to meet her gaze. Mind still fuzzy from your post-orgasmic bliss, it takes you a moment to realize she must have reached hers as well.

Fearful your legs won't be able to hold you much longer, you use what little strength remains to push off Sevika and roll into your back with a heavy sigh.

"Shit, Sevika," you say breathlessly towards the ceiling before turning to face her. Her eyes are already on you, her slick and drool-coated lips pulled into that damn sexy smirk again. So proud of herself. As she should be. "You really are amazing."

You no more than finish your sentence and she's on top of you, her face hovering mere inches from yours.

"I want to fuck you with my strap," she husks. She tries to lower her head to steal a kiss, but you press your palms against her chest to stop her. And it takes every ounce of willpower not to laugh at her stunned expression.

"On one condition," you reply as you reach up to gently tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear. When she doesn't reply, merely cocks a brow, you continue, "I want to stay the night and you make me breakfast in the morning." Once again Sevika graces you with a hilariously stunned expression. As if she's never been given a list of demands for anything before.

Sevika's lips finally curl into a snarky smile as she chuckles, "Sweetheart, I don't make breakfast for anyone." She makes another attempt to kiss you, but you smoothly roll away, sitting up with your back to her.

"Guess I need to go then. I'll need some extra time to get home and get up early enough to make my own breakfast." You don't dare glance over your shoulder, lest she catches your devious smile. But you don't need to see her to know her face is plastered with a look of pure astonishment at your audacity. Before you can stand to fetch your clothes, you feel her cool metal fingers wrap around your wrist.

"Wait," she says quietly. And you swear her voice is almost shaky.

Now you can't resist the temptation to take a peek at her. You glance over your shoulder, but keep your chin tucked low to hide your smile. Your heart nearly sinks at the sight of her frown. She's sitting up and looking anywhere but at you. She really isn't accustomed to being turned down. That, or she's just really into you.

"Okay. Just- stay. Please," she pleads, stormy gray eyes finally meeting yours.

Oh shit.

Well, now you feel terrible. Damn near brought Zaun's scary lady to her knees.

"Of course," you say softly and offer her a sweet smile as you crawl up onto the bed to straddle her lap. With your arms wrapped over her shoulders, you finally bring your lips to hers.

Sevika snakes her arms around your back, holding you tight and flush against her as if you might float away if she let go. The deep hum of appreciation she releases reverberates through her chest to yours. At the feeling of your gentle prodding, she parts her lips to let you slip your tongue inside.

The taste of your release lingers in her mouth. It reignites the flame of your desire, leaving you with the urge to grind against her lap. You break the kiss to rest your forehead against hers. Both of you are already getting worked up again, exchanging warm breaths between parted lips.

"I want to be on top. Like this," you whisper.

Sevika pulls back to quirk a brow, but her lips curl into a tiny smile. "Any more demands, princess?"

That's a new one.

"Mmm…" you hum exaggeratedly, "Not off the top of my head, but I'll let you know." You give her a playful smile and hop off to allow her to get up.

Lying on your side, head propped up in your hand, you watch Sevika move to the opposite side of the bed to pull a harness and strap-on from a small bedside drawer. Before she can step into it, you're hit with another idea.

"One more thing."

This time Sevika shoots you a warning glare over her shoulder, but she waits to hear your request.

"I want you naked this time."

Her expression remains unchanged.

"Please?" You ask, pushing your bottom lip out. And for just an extra little push, you trail a fingertip down between the valley of your breasts, taking note of how those gray eyes follow with obvious interest. "I'll make it worth it."

With a shake of her head, Sevika releases a sigh of defeat. "You're lucky you're so beautiful," she says as she starts to remove her top.

Those words don't quite sink in immediately. You're too distracted by the sight of Sevika's bare back. The muscles that stretch across her neck and shoulders. The curves of her hips and waist. And oh heavens, there's that gorgeous ass she reveals when she bends over to pull her pants and underwear down.

If she thinks you're beautiful, what does that make her? A damn goddess. That's what.

Wait- Did she tell you you're lucky you're beautiful?

"You only like me for my body?" You ask incredulously as she turns to you, in all her naked glory, while adjusting her harness. "Don't you like me for my personality too?"

"I'm not fucking your personality," she teases as she gets back onto the bed and positions herself upright against the headboard before stroking her faux cock with her flesh hand. With the curl of a metal finger, she beckons you over.

Obediently, you crawl on hands and knees across the bed towards her, but not without making sure she sees your pout.

Sevika gently grasps your chin between metal thumb and finger, tilting your head back until you look her in the eye. Her crooked smile is taunting, but not mean. She thinks your little act is cute. "Sweetheart, you know I'm just toying with you."

It's true. You do know that. But that doesn't mean you're not going to milk her for all she's worth. Get her to confess just how bad she's down for you. You avert your eyes, pushing your bottom lip out further.

She pulls you closer, speaking in a hushed tone as she does. "Your personality, though bratty and demanding-" She pauses, waiting for you to meet her gaze again and continuing once you do, "-is just as beautiful as your body."

You finally let loose a devious little smile, just as she closes the distance to press her lips to yours.

Hook, line, and sinker.

[la-grosse-patate]

Pain in the ass (WIP)

@inafieldofdaisies, @yokobai, @cassietrn, @whatwouldvalerydo wow, I did NOT expect this level of interest 😆 thank you! apologies this took so long. also, english is not my first language, so there might be some errors

Isabel almost recoiled. “Absolutely not!”

If the pilot took offense in her unusual reaction, he gave no sign of that. Face serene as ever and eyes full of mischief, Roger almost begged.

“Come on, this is a crazy opportunity! We can’t let those fuckers get their greasy hands on those materials.”

The captain pondered the thought for a moment, then slumped her shoulders in defeat.

He had a point. Whatever the highwaymen had found on that ship had to be valuable, and that only made them stronger.

She fumbled with the loose thread on her glove and twisted it between her thumb and middle finger, wishing it was someone’s neck. “No, I guess we can’t,” she replied, tone deflated.

“And dis is why we need to go. Aweille,” Roger pressed, voice now softer, as if trying to reason with a rabid fox. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

Unable to stop her eyes from rolling, she feigned looking at the sky instead. “I’m not doing this, Roger.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The woman didn’t dare meet his gaze. She knew that if she did, she would fold like a ping pong table. Roger had that gift, and those baby blue eyes that probably matched the harsh winters in Quebec he usually spoke about. And despite their color, they only made her cheeks burn brighter.

“Tabarnouche...” he finally murmured, sighed, taking off his aviators and neatly folding them before sliding one of the temples inside his breast pocket. “I thought we were making a good team.”

The tone sounded almost accusatory, like a teacher disappointed in one of his best students, and she hated how those words stung. Isabel knew he was using every trick up his sleeve to try to coax her, and damn it to hell, she was losing ground.

“You beat their ass last time, so why would this time be any different, hm?” the pilot inquired, tilting his head to try to meet her gaze.

Her heated cheeks could easily put the pink verbena flowers outside Prosperity to shame, but the vivid memories of dodging bullets and rockets swiftly drained the color from her face.

“Because last time I almost died!” she blurted, the sound of her own voice startling her. She didn’t mean to raise her tone, but she had to get her point across somehow. “You have no idea how lucky you are to be alive right now.”

Roger took her outburst in stride. “That wasn’t luck, ma cherie, that was pure skill,” a beat, then a chuckle. “And maybe a bit of adrenaline.”

Oh, how she wanted to strangle him, because, apparently, talking just didn’t seem to do the trick.

Yanking him by the sleeve of his uniform and dragging him after her, she crouched next to the helicopter to point at something that looked frighteningly similar to a bullet hole in one of the doors.

“What is this? What does this look like to you?” she demanded.

“That one was already dere.”

Isabel scoffed in disbelief. “Oh, don’t give me that bullshit.” She stood and spun on her heel, clearly done with the conversation. “If you really wanna die, find someone else to do it with you.”

She barely made it a couple of steps off the helipad before his hand closed around her bicep in a surprisingly firm grip.

“Ey, wait a minute,” Roger interjected. “Where you going?”

To hell, she wanted to snap at him, but it didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter, because whatever witty comeback the captain had for him, it froze in her throat when she realised just how close he was.

“Listen,” he spoke softly, gaze lowering to her lips for the briefest of moments before lifting back to meet her own. “Captain, if we do dis,” he squeezed her arm for emphasis, “we might put a huge dent in their operations.”

Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her. Maybe the tingling sensation creeping to her mouth was just her imagination. Maybe her blood sugar dropped again, she thought.

“Who knows,” Roger shrugged. “Maybe they give up altogether. Maybe we get rid of an entire highwaymen chapter, ah?” he ventured. “What do you say?”

At this, she right out laughed. “Did you smoke Selene’s magic tea leaves?”

“Maybe I did,” the pilot chuckled softly.

A subtle smirk tugged at his lips as he fixed her with his crystalline eyes once more. Waiting, watching for any type of reaction from her. It made her feel warm. It made heat creep up her neck and towards her ears. Slowly starting to realize it wasn’t her blood sugar acting up, but something else entirely.

Her free hand flew to her bare neck on instinct. “Why don’t you take Hurk with you?” she finally suggested, voice just as small as she felt.

Isabel could almost see the proverbial gears crashing instantly inside his head.

 “Quoi?!” he squeaked, finally letting go of her arm. “What are you saying?”

“He’s got more experience than me,” she shrugged, content to have regained her voice. “And besides, he’s always eager to go on your little adventures.”

With renewed confidence, she decided to meet his eyes, to assess the damage. But Roger stared at her like she’d sprung another head.

“Don’t do this to me,” he begged. “That guy is crazy, he's a disaster on two legs!” he protested.

“Perfect match for a crazy, flying disaster such as yourself,” she quipped, surprised with how mean that sounded out loud.

But Roger didn’t mind. In fact, he took her jab in stride, and she could’ve sworn his eyes started gleaming with something.

Was he enjoying this?

“You’re lucky I like you, captain” the man chuckled, voice low in his chest, almost threatening. “But right now...,” he shook his head, in defeat perhaps? In disappointment? Isabel couldn’t tell. “You’re a pain in my hass,” he concluded.

At his admission, the captain didn’t know whether to feel amused, offended or proud. All she knew was that it only fueled her fire. Gaining the upper hand over his fleeting glances and dirty tricks felt like a huge victory to her. It made her feel bold. Perhaps too bold.

“Then add more lube.”

The words flew past her lips before she could stop them.

Holy shit, she did not just say that.

Sweet baby Jesus, she did not just say that!

But judging by the stunned look on Roger’s expression, she did just say that.

Ears on fire, heart in her throat, she could only hope for thunder to strike her and vaporise her on the spot. But the sky was very much clear, in spite of her desperate prayers. Clear and blue, just like the eyes staring at her crimson cheeks. Eyes she did not dare meet.

“Rush needs me I g-gotta go” she blurted in one breath, nearly making a run for it.

[wri0thesley]

Nat. NAT. I just saw your concept about naoya "training" his wife by just throwing her in the room and just watching her struggle to defend herself... Until she ofc breaks and begs him to protect her🙈 you have a MASSIVE brain, the biggest and horniest brain nat can you please write this concept for the event😭😭 maybe w 45 and any other dark or spicy add ons that you see fit!

traditional discipline - naoya x fem!reader (3.3k)

naoya has had enough of you, and resorts to an unusual method of discipline.

warnings: not sfw/minors dni. DARK CONTENT. unhealthy relationship/marriage. fearplay, dacryphilia, finger-sucking, cock-sucking, punishment, threat of violence and death. dubious consent. afab reader with fem pronouns. 

[a/n: this concept literally wouldn’t leave me alone. i’m sorry to all of the readers who are naoya’s wife i’m always so horrible to them]

The room goes quiet as Naoya hauls you out of it by your upper arm.

It’s an easy mistake, a simple slip-up; accidentally talking over your husband. But it’s one in a slew you’ve been making recently, despite Naoya thinking that you were polite and well-bred and knew your place. He’s sick of it, to be quite frank; he doesn’t have time to be correcting you when you should already know how to behave.

You’ve done accidental, small things since the two of you were married. Denying him when he rolled you onto your back at night. Not standing quite as far behind him as you should. Pouring tea for other people before him. He’s given you swift reprimand with both his words and his hands, but . . . it’s clearly not sinking into your pretty little head, is it?

He warned you about this.

“Next time,” he’d growled to you, when you’d laughed too loud at a joke that one of his brothers had made and not laughed at one of his, “I’m going to teach you a real lesson.”

He tells you about the ‘training and discipline room’ on the Zenin estate later that night. A room that the family use for honing cursed techniques, both for practising and for learning purposes, when someone needs to be brought down a peg or two. It’s full of cursed spirits – all the way up to grade two, which makes your blood run cold.

Of course, you have cursed energy. You even have a careful little technique; one that would wrap your enemies up in vines, if you’d ever been allowed to train to use it for anything other than keeping your well-appointed garden neat and orderly. Naoya would not have married someone without either of those things, lest they not bear him fruitful children--

But you have never been allowed to use it for anything more.

The women of your clan are pretty decoration, with no need to learn anything other than how to behave and how to please their masters-and-husbands. You would be useless, thrown into the den of the wolves like that.

“Please don’t,” you’d said to him, your voice all soft and gentle, trying to be appeasing. “Please. I promise I’ll try harder.”

Naoya had taken your chin between thumb and forefinger, the grin across his face very sharp as his light eyes took in the pleading in your own gaze. You remember how the light had hit his earrings, the look of satisfaction at your begging and having you utterly and completely under his thumb.

“Be good,” he’d breathed, all slow and drawling. “And I won’t have to, will I?”

And he’d bid you to get on your knees for him and show you just how good you could be. Starting with your mouth.

So you know where he’s dragging you, down the labyrinthine halls of the estate. You try and pull back, feet sliding on the tatami mat, your voice pitching as you say;

“Naoya, please, I’m sorry--”

“Women should be seen and not heard,” he says to you. “Don’t make a fuss like that. You earned this.”

Your eyes are filling with tears, hot fear clawing its way up your throat.

“I’ll do anything,” you say to him, despite knowing that it’s a dangerous bargain to give him. He almost considers it for a moment, pausing – but then, his fingers just dig harder into the softness of your bicep (you’re going to bruise), and he tugs you.

“You’re making a scene,” he says. “If you don’t stop, I’ll leave you in there even longer.” You try to wrench your arm out of his grip, all of your self-defense mechanisms going into overdrive as you recognise the door he’s leading to you too. You’re breathless, so frightened you think that your heart might stop.

Naoya opens the door and pulls you in. You almost stumble at the flight of stairs, but he clicks his tongue at you in annoyance.

“So clumsy,” he drawls. “And here I was, under the impression I was marrying a graceful, lovely, credit to her family--” More steps, until he’s gotten you in the middle of the floor. He gazes around him, and you hear the low hum of a hundred cursed spirit’s voices murmuring the same things, over and over again. “The only time you’re a credit to them is with your legs spread.”

“Naoya,” you whimper, torn between pushing yourself into him for the comfort and protection that you know he can offer, or trying to tear away from him and escape the room yourself. You know the second option won’t work – he’s far faster, far stronger than you – but it’s hard to think of anything when you feel like your very survival is teetering impossibly over your head.

“If you run,” he says, still in that cold, uninterested drawl, “I’ll break one of your ankles.”

You don’t think he’s bluffing. Naoya says a lot of things, yes – but he’s also reckless and proud enough to mean them. You stand there, next to him, feeling yourself begin to tremble.

“W-why aren’t they attacking yet?” You ask him, voice very small. He looks at you pityingly.

“They’re afraid of me, obviously,” he says to you, very slowly, like he’s explaining it to somebody very stupid. “I didn’t get this good at everything by not training myself, darling.” He lets go of you, finally, a whistle escaping his pursed mouth as he rocks on the balls of his feet. He’s supremely unconcerned by your fear. “When I’m gone, they’ll come out for you.”

Your eyes fill with tears.

“What am I supposed to do?” You ask him, desperation leaking into your cracked voice. “I can’t—I can’t protect myself--”

Naoya narrows his eyes.

“You should have thought about that before you were such a pain,” he replies. And, without further ado, he turns around and begins to ascend the stairs again. You turn with him, moving forward, stumbling in your haste and ending up sprawled at the bottom of the stairs with your hand pathetically fisted into the hem of his hakama.

He looks down at you with a disgusted sneer on his face, and you hate that even with that expression his features are still unmistakably handsome.

“Let go,” he says. “Have some dignity.”

“Please,” you repeat. You can feel a fat tear spilling from the corner of your eye down the curve of your cheeks. You know the ‘dignity’ statement is a dig; the fact that you’ve heard his family members calling your clan power-hungry undignified gold-digging whores, but you can’t bring yourself to care when you can see the beginning of shadows spilling out too far into the main floor of the room. “Naoya. Please.”

He kicks out at your wrist, face twisted in distaste, and you let go to avoid it being stood on and crushed under his strength. You cradle it against your chest, looking up at him still all desperate and afraid.

“If I helped,” he said to you, “you’d never learn your lesson.” He takes a step up and turns away completely from you, as if you’re nothing more than an ignored child on the street. “It will be good for you, beloved wife. Character-building.” You hear the smirk in his voice and you hate him.

You want to strangle him. You want to beg him to protect you. You want to tear him limb from limb, but you want him to let you bury your head in his chest as he dispels the spirits with ease. You want--

The door slams shut behind him. He’s too cheerful as he throws behind him;

“Good luck!”

And you are left alone.

It takes a moment before anything slithers out from the shadows, and you clap your hand over your mouth to stop yourself screaming. The first cursed spirit is a hunched over creature with the face of a Pierrot clown, mouth stretched impossibly wide with gaping black abyss where eyes ought to be. It’s whispering something over and over to itself, but the wide mouth is so crowded with teeth that it comes out as an incomprehensible noise, dripping drool as it begins to move horrifically slowly towards you.

Oh, God. You’re not supposed to look at them, are you? You dimly recall something about many sorcerers wearing glasses so the creatures can’t tell where their gazes are, but this one has already got the scent of you; those dark pits staring at your crumpled form.

Everything you’ve ever been told in passing about jujutsu and cursed spirits and cursed technique just seems to flow out of your mind to be replaced by mind-numbing fear. You’ve not been trained for this; when your clan had arranged your marriage with Naoya, you know that they’d expected fine silken kimonos and traditional food and you being a pretty trophy on the arm of the future leader of their clan. You know they’d be horrified if they saw what was happening.

More of them are melting from the shadows, the whispering and moaning reaching a terrifying crescendo. You’re trembling. Your heart is beating so fast inside of your chest you think it might break free of your ribcage and sputter out onto the floor.

The Pierrot monster is close enough that you can see the six hands it drags on the floor are all tipped with claws that are sharp as blades. You scramble up the stairs on your ass, too afraid to turn your back on the creatures. You realise you’re shouting, but it seems just as blurred as anything that the cursed spirits are saying. You’re crying, too – howling, whimpering, so scared you’re surprised any noise is able to come out at all.

You’re going to die.

It hits you with cruel certainty as you reach the top and throw your weight at the door, only for it to not give an inch. You scramble at the heavy wood, not caring about your careful manicure (Naoya wants you to be a credit to him, and that means manicures and facial treatments and a fancy bathroom full of soaps and creams that he expects you to use and that he slathers, too, on himself). You hear a nail break but you can’t bring yourself to worry about that when the Pierrot monster is dragging itself up the flight of stairs, one step at a time. It makes a hideous sliding thump, like it’s both wet and heavy – and you notice, too, the scent of blood invading your senses.

Your tear-blurred eyes can see all of the other monsters, too – not quite as close, but still too close for comfort. Too many eyes and not enough eyes, too many legs, claws and teeth and misshapen bones and blood leaking from holes. What are you supposed to do?

Naoya has left you here, alone, to teach you a lesson. You hadn’t realised the lesson would culminate in your death, but with all of the spirits so close to you, you cannot see any other way.

All of the fight goes out of you and you sag against the door, a broken sob escaping your lips. Your throat is dry from hoarse screaming.

You are going to die. You hope it will come quick; you hope the Pierrot monster will tear you limb from limb and you’ll die in instants from the shock. Your voice whispers Naoya’s name one last, hopeless time.

Will he find another wife? Will they even bother covering up your death, or will they spin some rumour or lie to your family and the whole of jujutsu society that you brought it upon yourself?

You would do anything to be rescued right now. You would crawl on your hands and knees behind Naoya for the rest of your life, refer to him only as ‘Master’, fulfil every single thing he ever asked you with no more than a meek nod of your head. Pull out your tongue so you couldn’t make any more mistakes.

But the time for pleading seems to have gone entirely, and you are useless and stupid and weak as you run out of tears, eyes burning. All you can do, you think, is wait for death.

The door swings open behind you and you’re dragged backwards, onto tatami, by powerful hands gripping your shoulders as it closes once more with a massive clunk that echoes in your ears--

And you find yourself strewn out on the floor, face caked with dried tear-tracks, a trembling, pathetic mess looking up at your husband’s face.

He leans against the door, listening to you scream. He can hear his name mixed in with sobs and screams and pleading; saying that you’ll do anything, you’re sorry, you’ll never disobey him again you’ll take any punishment he metes out with a smile on your face, if he just helps you. He hears you call yourself weak and pathetic and useless around the tears clogging your throat; he hears the thump of you hitting the door and the sound of your nails scratching down the wood, uncaring of anything other than getting away from them.

Yes, he thinks as he opens the door for you and you fall, shivering and sobbing, in front of him. Yes, he thinks you’ve learnt your lesson.

You’re so pretty, he thinks, closing it once more (he sees the cursed spirits begin to creep back to where they came from at the very sight of him, now their preferred victim is protected), with your eyes all glassy and wet. You’re extra pretty looking at him like he’s a conquering hero who’s saved you from certain death – which he supposes he is.

You cling to his arm, pulling yourself up, burying your face in his chest as your hands cling to him like you’ve been lost and he’s the first familiar thing you’ve seen in months. Your tears soak his kimono, but . . . he finds himself not really minding, as big, lean hands pet you gently on the back.

“It’s alright now,” he soothes you, murmuring low. “Your husband has you.”

“Please, please, ‘m so sorry--” You’re mumbling into him, whimpering, your shoulders shaking. “Please never m-make me, again--”

“Shhh,” he continues, gently beginning to move towards his chambers. You cling to him, adrift in a sea of your own fears. “It’s better now. You’ll be better now, won’t you?”

He receives a fierce nod for that, your fingers twisting into his clothing. It’s nice, having you so wrapped around him; seeing him as the strong protector that he knows he is but you needed reminding of. You’re still mewling little pleas into him even as he unlocks the door to his bedroom and gently pushes you in. Letting go of him even for a moment seems to cause you physical pain--

Good. You should feel like that. You should feel incomplete without him at your side. Naoya rewards you with a rare, soft smile.

“You know why you had to be punished like that, don’t you?” He purrs to you, petting your hair and carefully drawing back so he can look at your face. Your lips are all swollen from crying and biting; he thinks you’ve never looked quite so kissable as you do right now.

“Yes,” you nod, fiercely. “I’m sorry. I’ll do a-anything, I promise. I . . .” You swallow, your eyes filling with tears again. Naoya has been hard since the moment he heard you call out his name from inside the training room, your voice filled with choked tears, and watching them well up again does nothing for the stricture against the fabric. “I needed you.”

“And I saved you,” he says, arching an elegant brow – to which you nod again, and your hands drift towards him like you’re aimless without him in front of you to serve. “I’ll protect you, darling, as long as you learn your place.”

“I will!” That’s said with such conviction that he can’t help the smirk that tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I will. N-Naoya . . .” Your voice trembles a little. “’m willing to do anything for you. J-just please . . . not again.”

“Shh,” he reaches out and deigns to touch you, to gently and soothingly rub his thumb over your cheek, where the tears have dried. “If you’re really going to be so good for me, I won’t have to, will I?” You stumble forward onto your knees and Naoya’s brows shoot up in surprise as your hands tug at his hakama.

“Please let me show you how grateful I am,” you whisper, your eyes wide and bright and desperate. “Naoya, please, please, please--”

Oh, there’s something so gratifying about you like this, begging to suck his cock. It stirs between his thighs again, reminding him that he’s painfully stiff; and you are here, a willing mouth, scared out of your skull and desperate to please him. He’s smirking at you but you do not register it as such; all you see is the smile of your rescuer.

Your protector.

Your husband.

“Say what you want to do to me, darling,” he tells you, keeping his voice as sweet as he can make it. “You’re a big girl. You can use your words. What do you want to do, to show me how grateful you are that I saved your paltry life?”

You’re pouting; your mouth is sweet, pretty. He wants to pry your jaw open and fuck the back of your throat, and his body roars as your fingers tug on the hakama again and your meek, soft voice whispers;

“Please let me suck your cock.”

“You have a dirty mouth,” he coos to you, leaning forward to brush a finger over your lower lip. “Not befitting of a woman of your station. I suppose that means that it’s up to me to keep you quiet, hmm?”

You obediently open it, letting his finger gently rest on your tongue for a moment.

Desperate to please, your mouth closes about it, your tongue gently swiping over the pad, your cheeks hollowing a little as you suck on the digit inside of them. Naoya’s smiling again, the victorious grin of someone who’s gotten exactly what they wanted. He pulls his finger out and thrusts back in with two, whispering to you;

“Do you think you deserve my cock, after what you put me through today?”

You shake your head, but you don’t stop lavishing attention on the fingers in your mouth, a string of drool falling from the corner of your mouth as he presses his third finger inside of it. So warm, and wet. He needs his cock to be inside of you or he thinks he may embarrass himself.

The fingers are pulled out, wiped on the hakama fabric, before he says (the carefully adopted tone almost disinterested);

“Take them off, then. Don’t make your promises empty words. I wouldn’t appreciate such thoughtlessness in a wife.”

You’re eager, stripping off his clothes. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of his cock; elegant, flushed, hard and straining with a light upwards curve that he knows will hit you in the right place at the back of your throat to make you gag.

“Wait,” he says, as you lean in to bring him to your lips. “What do you say, darling?”

Your eyes (still brimming with tears, he notices – and fuck, he loves how you look teary-eyed and pouting. He has to make you cry more often) meet his, but the look in yours is worshipful so he doesn’t chide you for having the insolence to meet his gaze directly.

“Thank you,” you breathe. “For saving me. For letting me suck your cock. For everything.”

Naoya is smiling.

“Good girl,” he says, placidly, as you place a delicate kiss on the head of his cock and slowly envelope it in the warmth of your mouth. “Very good.”

[l4verq]

boats🎣 | b.b

bucky barnes x reader

in which you’re supposed to be helping repair sam’s old boat but your boyfriend keeps distracting you :(

tags : 18+ minors pls DNI , bucky’s a horn dog and so is reader, sam doesn’t know bucky has his hand right on reader’s 🐱 and reader is TRYING to keep it that way lol, no plot, just a little porn 😼

fic : one shot

stern - the back part of a ship |

gangway - a flat board or metal structure that can be put in place between a ship and land to let people get off or on the ship |

cabin - a private room on a ship for a passenger or one of the people working on the ship |

masterlist

you know he’s not doing it intentionally.

the slight grunts as his vibranium arm effortlessly rips off rusty, rotting pieces of wood hastily hammered over cracks and gaps.

you’re scratching off stringy residue of duct tape slapped on holes in the stern, standing a few feet away from him, taking in the view.

not the one overlooking the wide stretch of blue water.

but the one where your boyfriend’s wiping the sheen of sweat off his face with his shirt and it’s not just any shirt, it’s the light grey one that’s one size too small but fits so right on his sculpted body.

he lets it drop, panting as his eyes trail over to you and smirks.

ok, so maybe he does know what he’s doing.

you go back to vigorously scraping off the grimy, faded string- how does duct tape turn to these stubborn, ugly strings that just refuses to come off?

and to top it all off, sam’s parents - god rest their souls - used the tapes in places you’re having to bend over, stretch your arms down as much as you can and hopefully are actually scraping the residue off.

“i got it.”

you jump a little, startled by his voice.

that sweet, sweet voice that brings you to your knees [literally] everytime.

he’s right behind you - you’ll never get used to his super soldier thing where he can sneak up on literally anyone - his crotch pressed right onto your ass as he bends down as well, arm sneaking down yours.

oh, he definitely knows what he’s doing.

his hand grabs the handle of the metal scraper in your hand, taking it from you.

the boat sways a little, just a little.

shouldn’t make him thrust right on your denim shorts clad ass, making miss kitty down there all flustered.

bucky’s a lot of things and being an insatiably annoying tease is just one of them.

he gets back up, vibranium around your waist pulling you up too, “sarah said she needs help with the pipes.”

you could use some help with piping too, you think.

“oh, okay.” you say breezily before getting out of his way.

getting out of his way as in sliding your ass across his crotch, a small groan leaving his mouth right into your ear.

he’s played this game with you way too many times and always won.

it was time for a new victor.

and so the rest of the day is just relentless teasing, lingering touches, strokes and a lot of “oh silly me, i dropped something. let me just pick it up.” and slowly raising your ass up his legs, feeling his jeans constrict just as you lift it away.

at one point, he’d pressed you against the wall, pinned your wrists above your head, i know what you’re doing.

cue innocent batting of your eyes, with a what?

you were the clear winner, until now.

until now when you’re in the cockpit, on your tippy toes, straining to hold up the glass pane.

“i don’t know how to break it to you that you’re not tall.” sam yells from the other side of the glass, voice all muffled.

you roll your eyes, practically unsticking your sweaty front from the majestic helm that’s been poking your belly for five minutes now. to say your tank top is just drenched in sweat is not an exaggeration.

totally not the hot girl summer aesthetic you were hoping for this year.

“need a hand?” bucky pokes his head in from the door, eyebrow quirked.

how does he get to look that good all sweaty and grubby?

“yeah, sam’s screaming at me cause i’m short.” you pull your lip, turning to face him.

he chuckles, lowering his head at the doorway and enters the cabin which suddenly looks even smaller because of his towering presence.

“i’ll lift you up, c’mon.” he extends his arms, the slightest smirk tugging at his lips, a playful glint in his eyes.

you turn around warily as he hops around the heap of boxes, screws, wrenches, crocks cluttered around the floor and he’s right behind you, hands tinkering around your waist.

but he slides his right palm right between your legs, other hand on your.... fuck, does it matter?

the only thing on your mind right now is him hiking you up, palm basically cupping your denim clad pussy.

you shakily hold up the glass while sam begins applying window sealant from the other side, completely oblivious to your boyfriend groping you.

his cool, metal arm rests under your thigh, a stark contrast to the burning ache between your legs.

“such a tight spot here.” he comments, palm squeezing slightly and it takes everything in you to stifle a moan.

he was crammed up against the helm, legs bumping into empty jars and canisters. you can only hope sam thought he meant that.

and it’s just torture, the next three minutes perched under his palm, desperate for some friction, to just rub it out all the while maintaining a poker face right at sam in front of you.

not helping that he’s having a casual conversation with sam, knowing full well that you’re absolutely just falling apart under his touch right now.

and the waves, the stupid waves that rock the boat so now bucky has to ‘adjust’ you, bouncing you up on his palm, squeezing your thigh with his other hand.

“sam!” a distant voice calls out.

you silently thank the lord for answering to your prayer.

“i’m working!” sam yells back, eyebrows furrowed, applying a line of translucent paste on the lower frame.

“SAM!”

sam huffs, screwing the cap on the tube of sealant back on, “i’ll be back. you can let go now.”

your sore arms cry out in pain as you retract them back, shaky legs because of a certain blue eyed 106 year old whose hand is shoved between them.

“i got you.”

bucky easily bounces you around, gripping your waist, your legs wrapping around his torso.

“you good?”

his right hand rests on your lower back to support you, eyes raking over your arms.

bucky’s a lot of things and being a caring, doting absolute annoyance of a boyfriend might just be the best one.

you just wait for the familiar creak and slight tilt of the boat confirming sam’s waddled across the gangway before crashing your lips into bucky’s, nearly tipping him over.

it’s almost animalistic, his lips part, letting your tongue slip in and delve in his taste that’s just so.. bucky.

it’s sweet, minty, tangy and you’d figure out the rest if only you both didn’t have to pull away, gasping for air.

“you’re so annoying.” you breathe out, panting right into his mouth.

jars tip over like dominoes as he backs you to the wall, shielded from the many windows but if someone so much as just craned their neck a little to look in, they’d have a front row seat to your snog fest.

“you know what these shorts do to me.”

his vibranium arm snakes around your waist, locking in, making that mechanical sound that’s just so sexy to you for some reason.

the evening sun is a little more merciful than the blistering beams of the morning but crammed up in that tiny area, sweaty bodies clinging to each other, you might just have a heatstroke.

if you didn’t pass out from the throbbing down there first.

“i need you to keep that pretty mouth shut, can you do that for me?” he cooes, forehead resting on yours, fingers reaching down to rub back and forth between your shorts.

you nod feverishly, unable to form words, hands grasping at the wall behind, his biceps, his back, everywhere, the long awaited friction sending sparks up your body.

“can’t let nobody hear us, now can we?” his lips trail to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin, a dull pain overpowered by pleasure coursing through out.

your hand tugs at his hair, soliciting a low moan from him.

“teasing me with your ass all out in these shorts,” he drawls, “such a bad girl.”

you’re hyperaware of the wide open cabin door and how someone could just walk right in, those two kids are always running around ever- fuck, the kids.

god, you’d never be able to face sam’s family ever again.

but it’s somehow the least of your worries when he lifts his fingers to his mouth, sucking on them with soft groans.

and he shoves them in the front of your shorts, “so tight,” he growls, hand barely fitting in.

you gasp as his finger finally make contact, run up and down your sopping slits.

“hmm, always so wet for me.” he groans, sloppy kisses down your neck, along your collarbone.

you whimper as he teases two fingers at the entrance, making you jolt when his thumb starts circling your swollen nub, the bundle of nerves coming undone.

his name’s a strangled, wanton noise deep from your chest but he gets the message.

that you need him to put a baby in you... y’know something along the lines of that.

but like aforementioned, he’s a tease.

so his fingers slowly push in, only the tips greeted by your walls.

“just as tight as i remember.”

back arching when he finally slips them all the way in, palm slightly tapping against your clit and you’re certain you see stars.

and he does the thing where his fingers hook, curl, twist, your legs squirming, his name falling out of your mouth like a chant.

your legs buckle, his fingers moving at an ungodly pace and the only thing holding you up right now is his iron grip round your waist as you shakily find your footing on the floor.

“fuck, you’re clenching so hard, baby.” he rasps, your head lulling into his neck, legs jerking against your own control.

you’re almost there. the familiar tightening of the twisted spring in your lower abdomen, toes curling against the rough surface of your slippers, almost..

creak.

-

a/n : 🤔🤨😳💤🏃🏻‍♀️💨 dk how i feel about this one bestie💭

[iiraven]

Fool-Proof Plan

Pairing: Erwin x reader

Genre: fluff, comedy, smut, modern AU

Warnings: size kink, masturbation, squirting, fingering in front of a mirror, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, manhandling, degradation, praise, established relationship, slight dumbification, choking/ breath play 

Word count: 4.6K

Synopsis: Erwin’s business trip leads you to realise you’re not as sly as you think you are.

Masterlist

Erwin Smith is a man capable of absolutely everything. He’s an amazing cook, an amazing masseur, an amazing businessman, and, most of all, an amazing husband.

There’s only one small shortcoming to the person you consider to be perfect. And that’s his inability to use any form of technology. Texting is bad enough with him signing his name after every message, but it’s social media that’s your husband’s true sworn enemy. Erwin might only be a few years your senior, but somehow your grandfather can comprehend the concept of Instagram faster than him.

“So, you just take pictures?”

“Yes.”

“And people respond to it?”

“Yes.”

“Alright but why?”

The conversation is nothing new, but you find it incredibly unfortunate knowing how talented he is at photography. If you two ever go someplace Erwin knows he wants to capture, he slings his camera over his neck, leaves his phone at home (“I won’t be taking any calls today”) and makes his merry way out of the house. You often eye the phone left stray on the desk, half-expecting it to chase you out of the house for abandoning it. Sometimes, for good measure, you slip it into your own bag. Just in case.

It’s for this reason that Erwin’s business trip puts you on immediate edge.

“It’ll only be for ten days,” he had said. “Sina Corporations takes their summits really seriously…”

“Ten days?” You repeated and Erwin gave you a soft smile.

“I’ll call you every day.”

It’s not like you have an obsessive attachment to your husband (well, that’s debatable), but breaking the routine of returning home to his warm hugs, listening to his day and then complaining about your own- it’s uncomfortable. 

Erwin himself wasn’t looking forward to being away from you, away from home. Running Survey Corporations Ltd is no easy task; trying to balance the infuriating board and the long hours with his actual life is something only possible because of you. Time spent together is fine diamonds Erwin clutches onto and although he’d tried to reason with himself that it was only ten days, it wasn’t a trip he was looking forward to. He never said it out loud. But he didn’t need to. You can tell by the way Erwin’s lips linger on yours a little longer at the airport, as if to preserve your taste.

“Oi Erwin- hurry up.” Levi tries hard not to glare. But even the raven-haired man knows that being away from you puts Erwin on somewhat of an edge. You’re his rock, there to ground him when everything is chaotic, and a summit surrounded by the richest people in the world is as chaotic as it gets.

Despite it all, Erwin stays true to his promise. He calls you at least twice a day and although you could stay on the phone with him for hours, he’s often rushing between conferences and can only spare minutes of his time. Even when he does have an hour, talking to a disembodied voice (he still can’t figure out how to switch his camera back around) is not the same as having Erwin right beside you. It’s the way he squeezes your thigh when he’s focussing on what you’re saying or when he pulls you towards him so that you can lie on his hard chest which still makes you blush even after years of being together.

Because, yes, you miss his touch the most.

Not even five days in, you find yourself with your hands down your panties and a tall blond man on your mind. You’re soaked just thinking about him. His groans, the way he calls your name, the way he pounds into you as you lose your train of thought. Your fingers try to imitate his- their curve and how easily they find your soft spot- but it just feels uncomfortable. So, then you try rubbing your clit, and there’s temporary pleasure there, but not even close enough to tip you over the edge. Even your pink vibrator doesn’t cut it. You deny the fact that Erwin Smith has made you an incompetent masturbator, but you can’t keep up the lie for long and soon enough you give up.

It’s the next day that your ingenious idea kindles. It’s a fool-proof plan. A small flame that has you rushing to the bathroom for the best possible lighting. Erwin can still put his tongue to use at a distance- after all, it’s his voice you fell in love with first. To discretely push him in the right direction, you send him a few photos of yourself. Nothing too scandalous safe he’s in a meeting, but enough that he’ll gets the hint. Sure, Erwin has a couple of polaroid pictures hidden in his brown leather wallet, but he had shot those himself. You want to be a bit more spontaneous! And, honestly, at this point you’re desperate. You could swear you’re developing withdrawal symptoms: just the other day, you were actually temped to pick up a newspaper. It was terrifying.

This had to work. You can just imagine Erwin calling you, voice deep and gruff as he guides you through the process to make yourself cum as he showers you with praise. You feel giddy, eyes glued to the glowing screen, awaiting his response. Even your pink vibrator is out of the box.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t exactly go the way you had planned.

One hour after sending the photos you receive a panicked text from Hange. In the long paragraph, you understand that your poor husband couldn’t get the photos to load and decided to consult the vice president of his company who, upon simply clicking on them, saw you groping your soapy tits. Had it been anyone other than vice president Hange Zoe, Erwin may have broken his phone and quit right there. Thankfully, he only said, “I see” and then asked her where to find the smiley face Emoji.

“I’m so, so sorry Y/N!” Hange screams through the phone. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise! I could send you a picture of my boobs! I’ll go do it right now! I’m sorry! No- You don’t need to feel embarrassed! I won’t mind!”

“It’s alright Hange.” You laugh nervously. “You don’t need to send me anything, it’s really not that big of a deal.”

The whack Levi lands on her head is so hard you hear it through the phone. “Shut the fuck up four-eyes.”

So here you are now. Three days until Erwin returns, a vibrator you’ve given up on back in its box, and a husband who responds to your nudes with a smiley face.

But then Hange Zoe sends you something much better than a picture of her boobs.

The hotel that the trio were staying at- as most hotels do- has a spa. And if there’s one thing Erwin Smith adores it’s allowing himself to relax in a warm, steamy sauna. You’re not sure how Hange was allowed to join them, or how she was able to get her camera clear of fog, or how she was even able to take the picture without Erwin noticing. But you ask her no questions.

Followed by a winky-face is a picture of Erwin sat in the sauna, head tilted backwards, and eyes shut in the pure image of serenity. His arms are propped up on either side of him accentuating his biceps whilst still allowing a clear view of his sculpted body, the sweat running down his chest and abs, making him almost glisten. He’s completely naked except for the flimsy white towel across his lap which does absolutely nothing to hide his thick dick print. You shudder.

You feel like a teenager again, speechless at the sight of a quasi- naked man. Even though you’ve seen him like this thousands of times, you can’t help but fantasise about being trapped underneath him, hair falling onto his face as he loses himself inside of you. God, maybe you do have an unhealthy obsession. But it doesn’t matter. You feel even more like a teenager as you imagine scenarios of him returning home to recreate the picture before you. And with that, your mind is sedated for the next few days.

You have a fool-proof plan. Dress up in the shortest and tightest dress you own, cook your husband dinner, and then give him a blow job at the table so that he’ll never leave you again. It’s going to be just like in the movies and nothing will stop that from happening.

Something stops that from happening.

Just as you’re about to put the potatoes in the oven, Erwin calls. His flight is delayed. You whine through the phone and Erwin’s chuckle just about stops you from sulking like a child. You can be mature about this, right? He’s getting home eventually- complaining isn’t going to help at all. Patience is a virtue and yours has been tested many times before. This is, after all, nothing compared to the time Erwin tried to create an excel spreadsheet. So, you don’t press further. You simply tell Erwin that you miss him and then go find a pillow in which you scream for a good five minutes.

Erwin, on the other hand, is a lot less coveted with his annoyance. He wants nothing more than to strangle whatever and whoever is preventing him from returning to his lovely wife. In the hour journey, the entire plane can feel a crushing tension above their heads, so tense that even the child at the back seems to be holding in his tears. 

Usually, Erwin prefers to spend his flights with a book in his hands, but he’s incapable for picking up the paperback and instead stares out of the window somehow hoping it will go faster.

After what feels like hours, the tight dress has gotten too uncomfortable for you to wear and you resolve yourself to eating the potatoes alone. You still don’t take off your lingerie, though. A two-piece black set with lace detailing that makes you look like a present ready to be unwrapped. It had arrived yesterday, and you had taken your sweet time admiring the embroidered flowers and soft ribbon holding the fragile piece together because you had falsely assumed that you wouldn’t have it on for long. You had in fact contemplated stockings but by the time 11PM came by you simply wrapped Erwin’s favourite robe around your body and tried to take your mind off things. Maybe you should have opted for your own robe because as the sleeves hung from your arms and the soft material effused his smell, it managed to make you feel even worse.

Staying up late was not a foreign feeling but anticipation quickly turns into boredom and you find your eyelids getting heavy. You pause the anime you’re watching and are about to shut your eyes when you hear the faint rattle of keys.

You stumble getting out of bed, knocking your shoulder on the wall before skipping four steps at a time and tripping on the robe at least twice as you rush downstairs. Erwin is barely through the door as you call out his name and he drops his bags right there to let your rush into your arms. You feel so small, so safe, so familiar, within them, as if you’ve returned to the space where you belong. He lifts you up to let you wrap your legs around his waist, your ankles barely crossing. He smells divine, even after hours of being stuck in an airport and his hair is still soft between your fingers. You look at him and the smile that spreads across his face wipes out any hints of fatigue that might have been there just moments ago.

Erwin kisses you and it’s long, deep, and he holds you impossibly closer to him as his tongue dips into your mouth. You don’t want it to end, but Erwin pulls back and says softly, “I’m home, my love.”

You can’t help but giggle. “Welcome home.”

You return to the kiss with a hint of desperation. Tugging lightly on Erwin’s shirt, you know he notices how your core is already warm, but still, he takes his time closing the door with his foot before finally noticing your attire. You’re about to make a sarcastic comment about his obliviousness but the way he looks down at you, at the small flower of lace peeping out from under the heavy robe, the way he slowly wets his lips, he leaves you speechless.

“You’re a gift.” He smiles sweetly though his eyes darken.

“Well, you’ve been working really hard,” You mumble. “You deserve a treat.”

The effect this man has on you is unbelievable. All that anger and frustration you had pent up now crumbles at the light caress of his thumb on your hips.

“Let me unwrap you,” Erwin says. And he walks you to your room, climbing up the stairs with ease as you cling onto him. You attempt to rub yourself against his hard stomach, but one look of warning makes you stop. He’s going to be doing things on his watch, tonight.

Setting you on the floor beside your bed, Erwin undoes the ribbon and you let the fabric pool at your feet. He immediately latches onto your neck, and you gasp, tilting your head to give him better access. His hands begin to roam, fingering the delicate lace of your panties and the straps of your bra as his tongue leaves a trail over your chest. It’s only when Erwin suddenly grabs your breast that you moan, body involuntarily pushing towards him.

He looks up through thick eyelashes and his hands moves to cup your face. You’re about to beg him to touch you where you need it most, but he whispers, “you’re so beautiful.” And you’re speechless again.

You suddenly lean in to kiss him, hands wrapping around his neck and it’s messy and your breath is short. “Please, Erwin,” you say to him between kisses. “Touch me.” You can feel him smile against your lips. “Please”. And before you can stop yourself. “I can’t do it myself.”

Erwin stills and only then do you realise your mistake. He pulls back and stands up straight, towering over you and you recognises that look. It’s the one of a lion who has just found a wounded deer. 

“Oh?”

Fuck. He leans back and raises a brow expectantly and you try to look everywhere but at him. Maybe if you avoid eye contact, he’ll take it as a slip of the tongue. But your husband is not one to let things go. He’s intelligent, he knows exactly what you mean- you don’t need to speak for him to gather what happened, the image of you lying pathetically on the bed, hopeless and desperate. He smirks but stays quiet. Erwin likes it when you use your words.

“No-that’s not what I meant. I mean- you feel best and it’s just-“

You’re cut off by a hand on your scalp, pulling your hair back in one swift motion so that you have no choice but to look up at your husband dead in the eye.

“You were touching yourself whilst I was away, Y/N?”

“I-I mean...yeah…”

“I see.” His gaze is enough to make you gush. “And you weren’t able to make yourself cum.”

Your cheeks burn. It’s not a question, but you affirm it anyways. “No, no I couldn’t make myself cum.”

He’s silent for a moment and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s watching your worried face or because he’s wondering how he’s going to make that face look even more worried.

“I would feel sorry for you, but I suppose that’s what you deserve for touching my cunt without my permission.”

You gasp as he uses his grip on your hair to throw you on the bed. It’s effortless, the way his strength could so easily destroy you and yet he uses it to ruin destroy you in another way- just who you like it. Erwin undoes his tie and all you can do is gawk as he strips down to his boxers. He’s as hard as a rock and you tentatively reach out to touch him, but Erwin grabs your wrist. Without warning, you’re dragged to the other side of the bed where you’re placed to face your large floor length mirror. There’s only a moment of confusion before you understand why Erwin had been so keen on the somewhat awkward placement. He positions himself behind you and you withhold the urge to press your back against his throbbing cock.

“Don’t you take your eyes off the mirror,” Erwin commands, and you nod your head. “Use your words. Or do you need me to show you how to do that too?”

“Yes, sir,” You say quickly.

“Good girl.”

Erwin opens your legs, his hands gripping your thighs hard. You silently wish bruises bloom in their wake- it’s been too long since you’ve had your husband’s mark on you. A reminder of who you belong to. One hand stays on your thigh and the other moves to nudge your panties out of the way of your glistening cunt. 

“I’m going to show you how to touch yourself,” He says in a low, rumbling voice. “And you’re going to watch closely and learn. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir.”

His fingers don’t tease your folds for long. Erwin is feeling merciful, because he simply gathers the slick coating your cut before immediately rubbing your clit. The moan that leaves your mouth is pornographic. You buck your hips but the hand on your thigh moves to pin you down, your body flush against his so that you can almost feel his bearing heart. You’re engulfed by him so small as he easily manipulates your body.

Erwin is overwhelmed by the options. Look at his wife unravel below him or stare at the mirror, where you have no place to hide.

“I should be punishing you, you know.” He presses his fingers down hard on a particularly tenter spot and you moan loudly. “But I need to show my dumb little girl how to take care of herself.”

“I-I’m not- ahhh.” Your back arches and Erwin captures your neck again, sucking viciously.

As his thumb continues its assault on your clit, two fingers find your tight hole, dripping and clenching around nothing. He can see in the mirror how your body is practically begging to be filled up. And fill you up he will. But first Erwin inserts a finger and groans at the warmth that greets him. He begins moving it and although you try to understand how he is able to stroke your cunt so perfectly, your mind is fogged and all that’s on your mind is your impending release. This should be a learning experience, but it serves only as a reminder of Erwin’s miraculous hands. He slips his second finger in and your moans only get lounder.

“Erwin, Erwin- they feel so good. Your fingers feel so good!”

You can see his smirk in his reflection, just before he speeds up and you have to grab his wrist to steady yourself. His fingers slam back and forth into your velvety walls. They suck them in, and he is able to find your sweet spot every time. Every single time. Your eyes roll back, you press against Erwin’s chest and your legs shake as you cum. The mess you make, leaking all over Erwin’s hands, your bed, your thighs- you try to look away, but he grabs your face to prevent you from doing so.

“Don’t you dare look away.” His voice is low, threatening. “Look how good I make you feel. Look.”

Your cheeks are flushed and the set that had made you look like a femme fatale, just hours before, is now yet another set that has has you pliant and submissive. “It seems that I’m the only one who can take care of you,” Erwin says. And you know he’s right.

Erwin lifts his soaked fingers to his mouth and his eyes flutter shut as he tastes you. When he opens them, you swear they’ve gone a shade darker. Wordlessly, Erwin slips from behind you to kneel in front of the bed. He removes your panties and holds them up to his nose, giving them a slight inhale before tossing them to the side and lowering his mouth.

“Erwin wai-“

And before you can warn him that your too sensitive- you orgasm was too strong, it’s too soon- his mouth has latched onto your cunt and Erwin is eating you out like a starved man.

“Ah-fuck, fuck, fuck,” You practically scream.

He sucks on your clit, his tongue doing what it does best. You look down, his eyes bore into yours and you know he’s remembering every expression you make as he pushes you over the edge. Despite your trembling arms struggling to keep you upright, your hand goes to grip Erwin’s hair and all you can think about is how soft it is before you cum again. Your husband doesn’t stop this time. His fingers dig into your soft hips to make sure you don’t move, to make sure that he catches everything on his tongue. And he can feel it before you do. The steady build-up of a feeling slightly familiar, but foreign enough that you warn Erwin too late. Your back arches and you squirt in his mouth and before your eyes roll back, you catch a glimpse of what you know to be a smirk in your husband’s eyes.

You can feel the sheets soak below you so try to press your legs together in somewhat of an attempt to hide the mess, but Erwin doesn’t let you. “Don’t be ashamed now, darling.” His voice is solid, domineering. “This is just you perfect body, doing exactly what I tell it to,” He says.

He could be talking about fruits and you would still nod your head dumbly.

The power Erwin has over you is addictive, and your body seems to know it too. As he kisses your thighs, licking off whatever didn’t find its way into his mouth, you can still feel a distant ache at your core. This time, you don’t need to use your words. As you lie weak on the bed, Erwin crawls over, engulfing your form. The lion is ready for his meal. He leans down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. “I missed you,” He says. It’s the hundredth time, but you don’t tire of hearing it.

“I missed you too.”

Erwin shifts your legs, and you can feel the head of his large cock teasing your entrance.

“I missed all of you,” he repeats. “Your smile. Your voice. Your moans.” He pauses to place a kiss on your collarbone. “Your taste.”

He’s trying to be romantic, but you know why he stalls, and it makes you unable to graciously except the compliments. Erwin loves to hear you pine for him. And who are you to refuse your husband’s desires? So, you reach your hands out towards his shoulders, attempting to make him move if only a little bit. “Erwin!” You whine, and despite your weakness, you manage to push your hips forward, finding friction against his hard cock. “Please!”

Again, that smirk. He rubs against your clit. “My, my- you’ve come twice already and want more?”

Well, he missed your voice so you suppose you should let him hear it. “Let me be selfish, please sir?” You moan. “I need you inside of me.”

His cock twitches against you. And before you know it his hand is around your neck. “Such a good girl, using your words like that.”

He pushes inside you with a groan of relief, a low sound from his throat that causes his eyes to close momentarily. 

It seems you’ve forgotten how big he is because as he stretches you out like it’s your first time, your mouth drops open and a string of curses emerges. Erwin would usually reprimand you for the foul language, but he’s too lost in the feeling of your tight cunt pulling him in. Using your neck as leverage, he squeezes tight so that he can push forward and when your eyes blur, overwhelmed with the pleasure and pain and the lack of oxygen intensifying it all, Erwin loosens his grip only slightly, and your eyes find his again. You don’t notice your mouth hanging open, too focussed on the way your body is accommodating Erwin’s cock again.

“Really big, ‘s really big, sir,” You mumble and Erwin grunts in response, his teeth clenching because he too is reminded yet again of how tight- how perfect- your body is for him.

When Erwin bottoms out, he stills for a moment, basking in your warmth and taking a moment to kiss your cheek, a gentle gesture compared to the hand still grasping your neck. Your cunt gushes despite you wincing about the pain, about his size, and soon he can’t help but move his hips. Erwin pulls back and thrusts deep. You scream him name, as you feel his cock dragging against your walls. Any idea of taking you gently has evaporated from Erwin’s brain and instead his hips snap back and forth violently, his tip kissing your cervix as he buries himself inside of you again and again.

His grunts are laboured as Erwin’s free hand pushes your leg up to your chest to allow him to thrust deeps and deeper. “Just like that- just like that, good girl. My good girl.”

The new angle has him brushing against your g-spot and you won’t last long. You know you can’t- not with him quite literally rearranging your insides. You have one hand clawing at his forearm and the other grips the sheets and you repeat a mantra of “Thank you, sir, thank you” in between your desperate moans. The honorific coming from your lips is too sweet to his ears and he’s reminded of why phone calls bother him so much- nothing compares to hearing your voice like this.  

Erwin’s hand leaves your neck only to tug your bra down, letting your boobs bounce freely as he fucks you hard. You almost complain about the loss of contact but his tongue latches onto to your nipple and before you know it, you are coming all over your husband, screaming his name. Your nails dig into his arm as he nears his own release. Erwin’s hips stutter and he moans your name before throwing his head back in pure bliss as he cums inside of you. You wish you can capture that sight forever, but you don’t think any photo does your husband justice. It’s true- this is better than anything Hange could send.

Your breaths slowly find a slower rhythm in the post-orgasm silence. Erwin watches the way your fluids pool out of you as he pulls out, admiring the own mess on his lower stomach. You wince at the sore feeling and pull him towards you. This time, he follows your command. Breathless bodies mould into each other, finding their place after too long being apart. At the back of your mind, you know you should be making your way to the bathroom, but Erwin’s heavy body lying on your chest is enough to remind you to focus on the moment. For this is where you belong.

“You know, you should be flattered, Erwin.” You nudge his arm weakly as you lay together, bodies entangled in a random set of pyjamas you begrudgingly forced yourself to change into. “No one has better hands than you.”

He laughs. “I am flattered,” he says. “I just like teasing you.”

“No- you have a degradation kink.”

“Yes, that too.”

Even as you were taking a shower together, Erwin’s subtle attempts at having you admit you couldn’t make yourself cum did not go unnoticed. You suppose it’s an ego-thing, but then you realise it’s more. The power of being the only person able to bring you that much bliss is power Erwin thrives on. And despite the money wasted on your pink vibrator, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Still,” Erwin muses and a small smile plays across his lips. “I did expect the photo Hange took to at least help a little.”

Every muscle in your body stills and your eyes suddenly widen. Oh come on. You try to tell yourself that there’s simply nothing wrong with having a photo of your naked husband, but it’s more than that. You know it. Erwin knows it. And by the way he’s smiling, you also know that plastered on your face is the guiltiest of looks. In your poor attempt to escape his gaze by turning your back to him, Erwin chuckles and shakes his head, hugging you closer.

“That’s not fair!” You exclaim.

“It’s not?”

“No!”

You try to wiggle out of his grasp, but Erwin is made of steel. Why do you expect to get away with anything anymore? Erwin Smith is beyond two moves ahead- he’s finished the game before you’ve even started.

“Did you really think I didn’t notice?” 

“Shut up!” You whine. “Why do you have to be such a smartass about it? Let me think I win.”

“Alright, alright.” Erwin chuckles and places a kiss on your forehead. “You’re my winner. Always.”

[ghoultramp]

study buddies [sukuna x reader] {req}

▷       jjk

↳ pairing: sukuna x f!reader

↳ content: { request fic } - dom!sukuna, subby!reader, curvy&soft!reader, college!au, dubcon, choking, spitting, marking (biting, scratching), dacryphilia, degradation (?), breath play (?),  a sprinkle of praise (as a treat), nicknames for reader (princess, babygirl)

↳ words: 4.7k

⇢ summary: sukuna’s a little fed up of yuji having you all the fun with you, so when yuji suggests you should take a break from studying, sukuna decides it’s the perfect opportunity to have a taste of yuji’s little princess.

also available on ao3

⇢ note: request for nemi; i’m so sorry it took so long to get around to this but i hope this makes up for the wait! a huge thank you for being my partner in crime on this and for some of the fantastic ideas you shared.

Yuji had been grumbling at his textbook for the better part of ten minutes before you peered over the top of yours. While he lay chest down on the floor, your legs were lazily propped over the small of his back. Your own back was supported by a pillow against your bed frame, comfortable enough, but you were starting to ache. Yuji wittered beneath his breath, he looked sweet when he tried to concentrate; his eyebrows furrowed and his nose wrinkled, but it was the way his tongue poked over his top lip that made you giggle.

“Stop,” he groaned, “this is hard.”

You cleared your throat as you closed your book, placing it on your lap.

“Which question is it now?” you asked, lifting your legs off him.

He grumbled incoherently, flipping the same page back and forth. You shook your head and shuffled next to him, straightening out your skirt as you brought your knees together to retain some modicum of decency. You leaned your weight against your left hand and softly patted Yuji’s head with the other.

“Uhm,” he mumbled, “still on the first one…?”

“Yuji-Kun,” you sighed, “have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

He looked at you through his peripheral vision while his mouth fought against a nervous smirk. You playfully tapped him against the side of the head. Yuji feigned injury, holding his head and rolling onto his back; you were trying so hard not to laugh as he rolled about, wailing dramatically.

“You’re such a baby,” you told him, throwing the textbook to the side.

You watched as he stopped and spread his limbs out like a starfish, he turned his head in your direction.

“Says the little Princess,” he retorted, he flashed a grin when your cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink.

He loved rendering your speechless with the utterance of a single word. To everyone on the outside, you and Yuji were this cute, Hallmark-movie, high-school sweetheart-type couple, barely even kissed, blushing at the sweet whispers you exchanged; how wrong they were.

Those sweet whispers that made you blush wildly were due to Yuji sharing with you his demands for you that evening—because you would always be his good Babygirl, his good little Princess. They would never see him grope you beneath the lecture hall desks, purposefully dragging you to the back. He’d ignore you as you cried into the sleeve of your sweater while his fingers fiddled with your sensitive little bud behind your underwear.

He rolled onto his side to prop his head up with his hand, you brought your hands up to cover your flushed cheeks.

“Hey,” he was trying not to laugh, finding your bashfulness absurdly loveable, “why don’t we take a break?”

A squeak escaped through the fingers of the hand that covered your mouth. Yuji awkwardly shifted onto his hands and knees, crawling toward you. When he sat up next to you, he swung his legs around to place them on either side of you; trapping you between him and the bed frame.

“Now who’s the baby?” he cooed, teasing you more by poking your hands playfully.

He laughed at your attempt to look annoyed, it was wasted. You resigned, watching as he began to lean into you, his hand pressed against the back of your head and his lips brushed against your ear.

“Or should I say,” his whisper was a low growl, “Babygirl?”

 “Yuuuuuji,” you were whining as you squirmed between his legs, “you’re doing this on purpose.”

The warm breath expelled by his chuckle brushed against your neck. You felt the grip he held on the back of your head fall to your wrists, you didn’t fight him as he pulled your hands from your face. You knew he got off on how bashful you always were, and maybe you played into that a little, he felt the hot flush of your cheeks radiate against him.

He could devour you so easily.

You felt a thumb press hard against your chin, pushing your head right back. A pitiful laboured noise escaped your mouth, now pushing his palm against your throat. It wasn’t quite enough pressure to stop you from breathing, but enough to cause you discomfort. Enough to satisfy him. For the moment, at least.

“…ji,” you were fortunate enough to be able to squeeze the last syllable of his name.

Using his free hand, he kneaded at the delicious pudge of skin that poked out above your slightly-too-tight thigh-high socks. They were just a part of one of your many little uniforms reserved only for Yuji, and today was one of his favourites; a just-tight-enough shirt opened enough for your delicate, frilly lingerie—of his choosing, of course—to peek out, paired with a simple, pleated skirt.

You were ever so grateful when he lightened the pressure on your larynx, allowing you to urgently drag in a deep breath. But it was mere seconds before you were gasping and panting, succumbing to his will as his fingers pressed gently against the damp cotton of your panties.

“Finally,” you heard him say, the lowered tone of his voice triggered your flight response.

“Yu-Yuji?” you whimpered.

“Yuji’s not home right now, Princess,” he declared, “it’s not fair that he gets to have all the fun anyway.”

“Su-Sukuna, please,” you whined, tilting your pelvis back in an attempt to escape his roaming fingers, he only pressed against you harder.

“Why don’t you let me take you for a ride, babygirl,” as he said it, he dragged his finger downward, following your sweet, little slit beneath your underwear.

“You p-promised you wouldn’t,” if it wasn’t for the fact that Sukuna was so close to you, he never would have heard your feeble pleas.

“We all promise things we don’t really mean,” he groaned, removing his hand on your throat.

Sukuna smirked all the while you gasped for air—once again—and then whimpered, the focus in your sight made everything soft, your head felt full of cotton wool. Sukuna sniggered, the dumb, heavy-lidded look on your pretty, little face was nothing less than perfection. He pressed his fingers a slightly bit harder against your clit, inhaling sharply when he pulled strangled little mewls from behind your slightly parted lips.

Sukuna was more than a little fond of Yuji’s choice of mate, he’d been waiting far too long for this opportunity and he wasn’t going to squander it.

He was going to savour every moment.

“Let’s see,” Sukuna contemplated, relieving your clit of his fingers. He’d want you to beg for it, prove just how much of a needy little whore you really were; he’d have you screaming his name soon enough.

You whined at him as his hands crept along the outsides of your thighs, under your skirt, grabbing hold of your shapely hips. He ignored your cries while he pulled you toward him, your skirt now ruched above your waist.

“C’mere,” he grunted, jostling you with some force when you didn’t move quick enough for him.

From your position—your head now propped where your back had been, Sukuna suspending your arse with his large hands—you could almost pretend that it was still Yuji. It was still his body after all, right? Your eyes passed over the dark lines that only Sukuna had—you always thought they looked like tattoos—and the closed, second set of eyes. Those eyes unnerved you, scared you. You dropped your gaze.

You didn’t ever think you’d have to face this situation, Yuji had reassured you time and time again that he had control of Sukuna, that he wouldn’t be able to take over when things got hot and heavy between the both of you. Now, you supposed Sukuna had lied about being compliant the entire time.

Sukuna continued, “I demand a taste of this—“ he yanked your underwear down your thighs, pulling a little too hard on the waistband, “—sweet fucking cunny.”

Dumbfounded, you were only able to watch him with curious, wide eyes as he moved your legs to benefit him while he struggled to remove your underwear. He was clearly getting impatient, throwing your soaked underwear over his head and across the other side of the room.

Sukuna let out a long, deep moan, as he shuffled himself back. He brought your legs down, pressing his muscular upper-arms against the back of your thighs; this was his way of stabilising you while having both of his hands free.

With his biceps pushing into your thighs, you yelped as your neck was forced into an uncomfortable position. The top of your head pressed against the base of the bed while your ear squashed into your shoulder; you scrambled to hoist yourself up, pushing your palms against the floor.

“Ah-ah,” he growled, yanking you down by the hips.

Sukuna mumbled something, you may not have been able to hear it, but your widely spread cunt certainly felt him say something. He brought the index finger of his right hand up to hover just out of reach of your presenting hole; raising his gaze to catch you looking at him--your chest heaving with your gulping breaths, your eyes almost entirely closed, with your tongue gently lolled out over your bottom lip--he certainly hadn’t expected you to submit to him like this so easily.

“I can see why Yuji likes you,” Sukuna mused, you gasped loudly when his thick finger penetrated you for the first time, “a needy little bitch in heat, like you?”

He let out a satisfied groan as you convulsed against him, nowhere for you to go as he twisted his finger, left to right and back again, fucking you with little care as his thrusts became almost violent. You cried out when he began to hit his palm quite forcefully against your clit with each thrust of his finger; Sukuna’s dark eyes glared up at you, his thick brows pulling together in the middle of his brow while he snarled at you.

You really were trapped.

“I happen to know you like it rough,” he was smirking, the loud, wet sound that came from between your legs as he removed his finger with a yank make you shrink beneath him.

“But, let’s get one thing straight,” he continued, moaning while he sucked at your sweet juices that soaked his finger, “your little Yuji-Kun won’t ever compare to a demon,” Sukuna watched the panic set in your eyes, felt your thighs shaking against his arms as he angled you up.

“It’ll be so delightful and easy, making you teeter on that edge,” he snarled, “between pain and pleasure until I see fit.”

You yelped uncomfortably when the pad of his heavy thumb pressed into your clit; you heard him chuckle above your cries, pressing against it harder. Sukuna pursed his lips against your inner thigh. You felt his smirk against your skin when his thumb quickly shifted from your clit to your hole; it was without warning, your slick allowing him to pull in and out with ease. But the intrusion made you shudder, followed closely by an uncontainable wail.

“Oh, Princess,” he cooed, talking into your thigh, “you’re going to make over-stimming you so much fucking fun.”

“Wh-what do you mean?” it was a pitiful attempt at finding your voice.

Sukuna either couldn’t hear you or at the very least, he didn’t want to hear you. He dragged his tongue along your delicate skin, playfully nipping at you every few inches.

Oh, how it amused him when you squirmed, afraid of his real bite, perhaps? The thought excited him.

You continued to whimper while Sukuna roamed your thighs, but when he flicked the tip of his tongue across your clit—fucking you with his thumb, his fingernails digging into the flesh of your arsecheeks—you brought your hand to your face, biting down on the flesh of your wrist.

Sukuna ignored you, giving attention to your throbbing clit, using his free hand to spread your lips just a bit more, enough for him to sink his lips down and around you. He loved when you made those whiny, little bleats—so pathetic, so fucking easy.

But, no, this wasn’t enough for Sukuna. He jerked his thumb out—your walls quivered around the empty space—and replaced it with his tongue; he groaned loudly as he sloppily lapped at your dripping, wet cunt.

Crying into your hand, still biting down on your already raw flesh, you felt the pull of your hips, ready to spasm with the release that was building up within your core. Sukuna masterfully worked his way around your insides, tensing the tip of his tongue to satisfy that sweet spot within you.

“Cum for me, Princess,” his deep voice was cast even lower as he growled as he spoke those words, commanding you; you felt a pressure within your pelvis vibrate and coil.

A pretty, choked sob found its way behind your lips as you relaxed your head to the side. The arm you had been using to silence yourself came down on Sukuna’s head so hard he scratched at your outer thigh; that would surely leave a mark. Whether you were willing to admit it or not, the thought excited you, you wanted him to hurt you.

Sukuna seemed frustrated when you didn’t obey his demand.

“I said fucking cum for me, Princess,” he snarled, firmly placing his hands on either side of your arse. You gasped, feeling the sting of him driving the points of his nails into your flesh. “I won’t hesitate to hurt you, y’know,” he continued in between tending to your soft, little cunt, “but I get the feeling you’d—“ he huffed, driving his nails into you, eliciting a strangled, wailing moan from your lips, “—like it.”

A whimpering, twitching mess was all you were beneath Sukuna’s grip. You heard the sloppy, wet noises combining with his hungry moans, tasting as much of you as he possibly could. Leaning back onto his knees, Sukuna noticed the bright flush in your cheeks.

“Sweet, little thing,” he laughed, “look, she’s embarrassed.”

Sukuna delighted in having you as his play-thing, but he wasn’t quite done with you yet. While he stared at you with his impossibly dark eyes, you heard the distinct jostling of a belt being undone; you heard it land with a thud when he discarded it to the side, triggering your body to shudder once more.

He wasn’t impressed with you when you lowered your gaze away.

“No, no, no,” he chuckled, “you will return the favour, Babygirl.”

Your heart beat wildly against your chest, your breathing was nothing but desperate, clamouring gasps as he hoisted you by your hair. Your protesting cries meant nothing to him as he effortlessly pulled you to your knees and the sight of your eyes brimming with tears amused him all the more.

“You’d do it for him, wouldn’t you?” he gave an inflection to his voice, trying to mimic Yuji’s, “It’s still his body, right?”

Sukuna’s grip on your hair tightened while he fiddled with the zip of his trousers, you felt helpless, watching as he relieved his thick, hard cock from its clothed prison. It was Yuji’s body, but like this—when Sukuna felt the need to barge his way in—it was his, not Yuji’s.

“Isn’t it?” he spat, pushing you down toward his crotch, cock in hand.

You may have been too shocked to form words, disjoined syllables tumbling from your lips, but not shocked enough to resist him. You didn’t recoil when your lips pressed against the swollen, wet head of his cock, as he brushed his pre-cum across your lips. In fact, you were eager, Sukuna laughed when you parted your lips, ready to receive him.

“See, it’s not that bad, is it?” he mused as he tugged your head back to look up at him.

You heard him stifle a low growl, looking up at him with your pretty, glassy eyes and your puffy, pink lips.

Whining at him as you placed your hands on either side of his muscular thighs, you were a desperate little pet eager for master’s attention. You didn’t care that he held your weight by your hair, it didn’t matter that it hurt. You didn’t care how aggressive he was; it didn’t matter when it felt this good.

“That’s it,” his smile was devilish, allowing you to lower your head into his lap on your own terms.

When you moved Sukuna’s hand away from his cock, he let out a chortle that made your heart flutter. He was gentle while you teased the aching head of his cock. You were ever so pleased with yourself when you pulled guttural, feral moans from his lips; it was your turn to tease Sukuna. For however long he might allow it, that was.

Which wasn’t long at all, it would seem.

Sukuna was impatient and you were taking far too long, he wanted his dick rammed as far down your throat as he could, and he would. He wasn’t being gentle now, not when he pushed your head down onto him. When you let out a surprised yelp, he took the opportunity to take advantage.

“Fuck,” he hissed while you gagged on the intrusion of his length.

Your throat felt raw, there was no niceness about him now as he held you down. You were sure he would be smirking as you convulsed within his grip, feebly attempting to push against his tensed thighs with very little effect. Yuji might be rough with you, but Sukuna was on a different level, and you quickly understood just how utterly useless any and all attempts to save yourself would be.

It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt, and you knew—for certain—that someone was going to be you.

You closed your eyes and held onto his thighs so tight your knuckles turned white; it was the only thing you could do to distract yourself at that moment. The tears he’d forced from your eyes dripped onto your chest with your clumsy movements. You let out a wail of relief when he pulled you away, even just for a moment, it was welcomed.

"There's a good girl," he grunted, admiring the spit that dribbled down your chin, "there's my good little Princess."

Your moan at his words was cut off by a cruel shove of his hand; you gagged under the duress of him ramming into the back of your throat. He didn't care that you choked and spluttered beneath him, in fact, you knew it excited him; the way his cock twitched with each uncomfortable noise you made told you everything.

Every bone in your body screamed at you to submit to him, you would hope it would be less humiliating than this. Sukuna was surprised when you fell limp within his grasp and jerked you back once more.

“I wasn’t sure I’d break you so easily,” he chuckled, raising his free hand to your tear-stricken face.

You shuddered when his thumb stroked away at your wet cheek. You kept your eyes closed as his hand snaked its way across your face and down to your mouth. He tightened his grip on your hair as he held down hard with his other hand.

Your eyes darted open, Sukuna was a God looking down upon a mere mortal.

He hissed, you felt a heavy pressure against your lips as he used his hand to push you back against the pillow still propped against the bed. He was quick, untangling his hand from your hair to rest it on your inner thigh. He was laughing as his fingers tightened around your thigh, claws pinching at your flesh.

“Open wide, Babygirl,” baring his teeth at you, he looked maniacal, his hulking shape looming over you.

You sobbed helplessly as the mouth on his palm opened up, summoning a tongue that successfully infiltrated your mouth with very little effort. He laughed as your pretty, flushed face twisted, breathing frantically through your nose.

You were unable to make out the words he growled while he dragged his claws along the tender flesh of your inner thigh. The games he’d played with your throat, and consequently your oxygen, had dulled your senses—all except the ones that mattered, of course.

The bottom of his palm hit hard against your abused clit and your eyes widened with realisation. Sukuna smirked, both hands pressing so impossibly hard against both sets of your lips as he leaned into you.

“Just a little more,” he growled, “and then you’ll be ready for me.”

There was no time to think before the hand at your mouth pushed your head back, the finger and thumb on either side of your nostrils were dangerously close to completely restricting your airflow. Another tongue infiltrated your aching hole, he laughed at you as you convulsed beneath him. He allowed you to shake your head from side to side but nothing more, he found your efforts at yet another struggle tempting.

Your hips bucked defiantly beneath his hand as he bore against you. You whimpered against the tongue at your mouth as the one inside your twitching hole tickled against your most sensitive spot. Sukuna brought his face down impossibly close to yours, now gently grinding his palm against your clit; the only thing you felt were tight shocks that battered away within your core.

Sukuna gripped your face with his fingers, careless as his claws almost scratched at your face. When your head was brought up to meet him, your noses touched. It was unnerving.

You felt Sukuna’s tongues retreat. You were conflicted when you felt the gnawing ache of emptiness that was left behind. Formulating thoughts seemed impossible, coherency was nowhere to be found. With heavy-lidded eyes, you lazily watched as Sukuna knelt back.

It was cute, the way you opened your legs even wider for him. It wasn’t enough for Sukuna, nothing ever seemed enough for Sukuna. You felt his clawed hands grip the underside of your tender thighs; your breath shuddered, feeling the wet head of his cock bump against your widened hole.

“Good girl,” he breathed, “open wide.”

There was no other warning than his words as he shunted his hips forward, you moaned low in your throat—a strangled, feral noise—as your dripping wet cunt enveloped his throbbing length with very little ease.

“See,” he grunted, tightening his grip on your thighs, “I can be kind—“ he pulled his entire length, your hole quivered at the empty space, “—when I want to be.”

You wailed as he bottomed out against you, digging his claws into your flesh hard enough to draw blood as he frantically thrust. He’d been patient long enough but, while you’d been a good girl and indulged him, playtime was over.

Your head whirled and your limbs were numb. The only nerves that you felt any connection to were the ones in your pussy, the ones that made it possible to feel every protruding vein of his achingly hard cock The nerves that made it possible to feel every twitch it made as Sukuna put all his weight into you. He grunted, pushing back on your thighs, you yelped when he folded them against your stomach.

Sukuna delighted in hearing the moan you gave him after yet another deep, unrelenting thrust, his pelvis grinding roughly against your clit. You found yourself unraveling beneath him, you no longer felt within your own body.

“Yuji,” you mewled.

It was an easy mistake to make, a mistake that Sukuna did not appreciate. He laughed down at you as he picked up his pace. An unrelenting pace that shunted your body with each and every thrust. A pace that made you see stars.

“Silly little bitch,” he growled, spitting on your cheek, he was surprised when you let out a gasp of arousal, “say my name.”

He watched you convulse beneath him, felt you writhe and twist in his arms. It was delicious. The way your cunt clamped on his cock, tighter and tighter, and harder and harder until your cervix felt bruised.

“You’re mine right now, Princess,” he told you breathlessly, “Say it.”

You felt his spit hit your face again and your pelvis tightened. Things like that were supposed to feel this good, and for a brief moment, an internal struggle between arousal and embarrassment took place. Your arousal when Sukuna spoke.

“Say my fucking name,” was his final demand, but you could only cry out nonsense, “Say it!”

“Su-Sukuna!” you cried, obliged to obey him.

You were rewarded with the relief of Sukuna removing one of his hands from your thighs, too fucked-out to move—or care—your leg still rested against your stomach. He bared his teeth and brought his hand back; you were astonished that he never lost his momentum. 

He grunted as he breathed.

“That’s right,” his voice began to waver, close to his own climax, “good girl.”

You could almost believe you weren’t just a piece of meat to him, the way his tongue wrapped around the words he used could make anyone feel special. But you were rudely reminded this was Sukuna, not Yuji, when his swung-back hand collided with your thigh.

The Earth itself could have shattered at that very moment, and all you’d feel would be him; you thought yourself lucky enough to remember your name.

“Good—“ he grunted against your arching hips, begging for more you couldn’t possibly take, “—girl.”

Sukuna juddered on top of you, within you, while his claws made their final assault on your skin, while he buried himself as deep within you as possible. You writhed and mewled beneath him, your hands grasped at the carpet, desperate to hold onto something while the pressure of his hot cum filling your battered cunt overwhelmed you.

There was a faint sting that broke through the pleasure as he continued to roll his hips against you, gently for the time being, now that he was spent.

It astonished you how quickly his breathing returned to normal while you struggled to draw any breaths that felt satisfying, still recoiling and twitching. You could speak only broken gibberish.

Sukuna lowered your legs, you wished he’d more gentle; you winced as your hip joints creaked having been forced into such an uncompromising position. You felt the weight of his chest press against yours and his nose nuzzled gently against the crook of your neck.

There was a tense moment as you lay under him as your senses regained consciousness.

“Yu-Yuji?” you whimpered, tears threatened the edges of your eyes.

The pretty pink man who lay on top of you let out an angered growl, the hands that tightened around your wrists no longer had claws; there was care in the grip.

“I’ll kill him,” you heard him growl, his grip tightening.

“Yuji I’m—“ he didn’t leave you room to finish as he lifted his head, gazing down at you with furrowed eyebrows and bold, dark eyes.

“But first,” he told you, looking down at the mess between where your bodies connected, “it looks like I have to punish you first.”

He looked back to you—was he enjoying this?—and cast a dirty smirk at you.

“Because despite what Sukuna may think or say,” he continued, looming closer to you, his cock twitching with every word, “you haven’t been a good girl, have you, Princess?”

Your lips may have been moving but your voice was inaudible.

“You can thank Sukuna for one thing though, Princess,” he growled, nipping at your neck.

His voice broke when he deliberately moaned in your ear, a sound that made you squirm with delight.

“There’s no more holding back,” was the last thing he said before raising your arms above your head and locking his teeth to your neck.

[maybanksbitch]

The Bathroom || JJ Maybank

* this is not my gif; all credit goes to the owner.

pairing: jj x reader

prompt: jj follows you to the bathroom after seeing some random try and pick you up. he reminds you who you belong to.

requested: no

warnings: jealousy, absolutely filthy smut, choking, spanking, hair pulling, biting, daddy kink, unprotected sex (10/10 wouldn’t recommend; wrap it before you tap it).

a/n: i’m not kidding y’all, this is FILTHY and very graphic. i’m warning you. it’s also pretty long, sorry.

You let out a hum and raised your eyebrows in mock amusement at something the boy in front of you said. You weren’t really paying attention to what he was saying. You were just entertaining him for the moment.

“So, uh, what do you say we- we uh, get out of here?” the guy, Jason, maybe, tried to ask confidently. He was failing miserably, deep down knowing you were uninterested.

You let out a small laugh as you stood up and patted him on the shoulder. At least he tried. “Sorry buddy, better luck with the next one,” you smiled before turning and walking away in search of the bathroom. You just wanted to clear your head for a minute and escape the rooms packed with Kooks.

There was a line outside the one downstairs so you quickly climbed the winding staircase to use Sarah’s. This was her party after all, and she made you and your friends come. You knew she wouldn’t mind you using her bathroom, anyone else would be a different story.

You didn’t hear the footsteps that followed you up the stairs or down the hallway. As you opened the door and flipped on the light, a body pushed you into the room and then slammed you against the closed door. You nearly punched them straight in the face until you recognized the grey cut off tank and the shark tooth necklace hanging around the person’s neck.

“God JJ, you scared me,” you breathed and leaned your head back against the door to look up at him.

Blonde curls hung around his face as his hands kept you pinned to the door. His usually bright blue eyes were now a darker shade. His jaw was clenched, making his cheekbones jut out the slightest bit.

“Did you think that was cute?” JJ’s voice was deep and taunting, causing a chill to run up your spine.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about..”

Your breath hitched when you felt the cold rings on his fingers against your throat. His fingertips squeezed just slightly, causing heat to flood throughout your body. “Was it fun flirting with that guy, knowing I was right across the room? Did you think that was cute?” he repeated the same question as before, voice coming out almost growl like.

His fingers squeezed a bit harder, demanding an answer but also just trying to rile you up. JJ knew all your kinks. He knew how to turn you on in all of the best ways.

“No,” you whimpered, squirming under his grip against the door.

JJ brought his other hand up quickly, fingers tangling in the hair on the back of your head. He pulled, forcing your head back and exposing more of your skin to him. It didn’t hurt. Quite the opposite, actually. Everything he was doing went straight to your most intimate spot.

“No what?”

“No sir,” you whispered, lips trembling as they parted and you sucked in a breath.

“That’s my good girl,” JJ muttered with a smirk, hand leaving your hair and your neck to grab your hips instead.

You slid your hands under the front of his shirt, fingertips tracing the defined muscles of abs. His lips came down against yours hard and hungry. His teeth dragged against your bottom lip as he tugged on it. When your lips parted in a gasp, he wasted no time, slipping his tongue into your mouth to taste you.

He got a hint of strawberry, from the punch you’d been drinking. He tasted of beer and weed with a hint of mint, something you were so used to but couldn’t get enough of. It was like you were drunk just from kissing each other. You’d both never felt anything like it before.

Your hands left the soft skin of JJ’s chest, sliding up his muscular biceps and into his blonde hair. Your nails brushed his scalp as you tugged on the strands, pulling a strangled moan from the tall male’s throat.

You were spun around quickly, in a daze you caught a glimpse JJ’s crazed eyes in the mirror. You looked at yourself instead. Your hair was disheveled, pupils blown, lips puffy and brighter from the kissing. JJ smirked in the reflection and brushed your hair to the opposite side, fingers trailing from your jaw down to your collar bone. You could see that your nipples had hardened and were peaking through the bikini and crop top you were wearing.

“Look at you, all worked up,” JJ whispered in your ear, wet lips dragging down the side of your neck. He sucked at a spot where your neck met your shoulder and bit down somewhat harshly. After a moment he pulled back and admired the red mark he’d left that would be purple tomorrow.

You felt his large hand in between your shoulder blades and you were pushed forward, bending over the counter. JJ pressed his hips against your ass and you could feel his erection, hard and prodding between your cheeks.

“You want it don’t you? Want me to fuck you over this counter, right here just like this?” he slid his hand down your spine and landed a loud slap to your exposed ass where your shorts had ridden up.

A whimper left your lips as you pressed back against the blonde, grinding your backside against his bulge. “Yes, daddy. Please fuck me. I need your cock,” you whined, looking over your shoulder. JJ’s eyes locked on yours and he lost all control.

Your shorts were ripped off without warning, bikini bottoms following quickly after. You kicked you bottoms off the best you from your compromised position and shivered as the chilly bathroom air met your wet core. JJ kicked your legs apart and you watched in the mirror as his hand disappeared behind you.

You gasped as you felt his calloused pointer finger and middle finger slide through your folds, teasing your clit with soft and slow circles. His mouth fell open a bit when he felt how wet you were. He slipped both fingers into your entrance with little to no resistance.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, baby,” JJ said huskily, pulling his fingers out and wrapping his arm around your front. He met your eyes in the mirror and held his fingers right in front of your face. His pupils were blown so wide you almost couldn’t see any of his crystal blue irises.

“Suck,” he commanded, dimples becoming prominent as he smirked when your mouth dropped open.

You took JJ’s fingers into your mouth, his eyes glued on your lips the whole time. You put on a show for him as your tongue swirled around the digits and you let him push them down your throat to the last knuckle.

You don’t know when he got his pants undone or how with one hand for that matter. You moaned loudly around JJ’s fingers, nearly bitting down, when you felt the head of his length slip into you, the rest of it entering swiftly after. The blonde’s jaw dropped, face scrunching in pleasure when he was fully sheathed inside of you.

“Ah, shit,” JJ hissed, ripping his fingers from you’re your mouth and gripping onto your hips. “You’re always so fucking tight.”

His rhythm was slow as he started fucking you, pulling back slowly until just the head of his cock was missing and equally slowly pressing back in. For a minute, JJ watched himself thrust into you. The way your juices glistened on his shaft made his mouth water.

He looked back up to see you watching him in the mirror, lip tight between your teeth. He sent you a quick wink and slammed into you forcefully. It was like the moan you let out was forced out by his dick. His pace turned borderline brutal at that point. You didn’t know someone’s hips could move that fast. The vulgar sound of skin slapping on skin filled the bathroom, as well as your loud moans. JJ let out a few grunts but tried to remain quiet, just wanting to hear you.

Your head fell forward at some point. The cold porcelain felt good against your hot skin, sweat already collecting at the hairline on your forehead. You knew the feeling all too well, the feeling of JJ wrapping your hair around his fist in a make-shift ponytail. All he had to do was pull his wrist back the slightest bit to lift your head.

“Head up. I wanna see you. I wanna see how good I make you feel,” JJ’s voice was stern but tense. No matter how many times you had sex, it was just as good as the last, if not better. He felt like a virgin again, trying not to cum from the slightest touch.

You felt out of control of your own body. You couldn’t stop the noises leaving you. You couldn’t close your mouth or cease the shaking of your thighs. You couldn’t help it when your hands reached back and held desperately to the blonde’s forearms, like it would ground you to the world in some way.

A shout left your lips as JJ’s cock brushed your g-spot. Your nails dug into his skin as he continued his assault against it. If anyone was outside of that bathroom door, they would likely think there was a porno being shot inside.

“Yes, fuck, JJ- Right there,” you gasped out.

JJ’s hips stilled, pelvis pressing into your ass. You knew your hips would be bruised from the edge of the counter. He let out a growl and pulled you up by your hair, your head and back arching almost unnaturally. His chest was now pressed against your shoulder blades, mouth right next to your ear.

“What’s my name?” he growled in your ear, holding your gaze in the reflection.

“Daddy. Daddy, I’m sorry. Please, I wanna cum. Make me cum, daddy, please,” you begged the boy behind you.

JJ kept you in that position as he started pounding into you once again. Hearing those words leave your lips almost made him cum right then and there. He was pressing into your g-spot with every thrust. He pulled on your hair with each movement he made. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold on.

“Gonna cum on daddy’s cock, babygirl? Hm? Who’s pussy is this? Who’s the only one who can fuck you this good?” JJ’s voice was low in your ear, a groan slipping out here and there. His hand slipped down your stomach, the other still holding tightly to your hair. His fingers slowly circled your clit. It was so light your knees nearly gave out, a very different contrast to the animalistic thrusting of his hips.

“Yours! It’s all yours. N-No one can fuck me like you. Please!” you practically sobbed, overcome with pleasure as you tried not to cum before allowed. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you pleaded through the mirror for JJ to let you have your release.

“Go ahead baby,” JJ muttered before his mouth latched onto your neck.

His fingers made quick work against your clit now, a wet noise coming from down below. Your hands flew up to his hair and his neck, wherever you could reach. You gripped onto whatever you could as your mouth opened in a silent scream.

Your orgasm hit you so hard your vision went white, eyes squeezing shut. A loud, broken moan left your lips, tearing up your throat. Your legs shook so violently you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, you were relying on him to do that for you.

Your pussy gripped JJ like a vice as you came. You became so tight around him he almost thought he might not be able to pull out. He stuttered out a few more thrusts before muttering, “Fuck, m’gonna cum.”

He forced you to your knees with little effort. Your legs were jelly at that point anyway. He held you by the hair as his hand gripped his cock and stroked fast. You obediently opened your mouth, tongue out and all as you waited.

“Oh-Oh shit- Fuck,” JJ gasped when your eyes opened, wide, wet and innocent, staring up at him.

The groan he let out could probably be heard over the music downstairs as he let go. JJ’s cum shot out so hard he missed your mouth at first, the thick white substance ending up on your forehead and down your cheek, thankfully not in your eye.

You waited until he milked himself dry, licking up the little drop at the end of his tip before swallowing what made it in your mouth.

JJ fell back against the wall, head back and eyes shut as he tried to catch his breath. You grabbed a washcloth from under the sink and cleaned your face off the best you could without looking. You didn’t trust yourself to try and stand yet.

“Holy. Fucking. Shit,” JJ breathed out through pants, finally opening his eyes to look down at you then his thighs. He grinned slightly as he noticed his leg hair was stuck to the skin of his thighs. “Didn’t know you were a squirter.”

A blush spread across your cheeks and down your neck, hands covering your face. You weren’t embarrassed, just equally surprised. When you finally felt the heat subside, you looked up at the blonde and smiled lazily.

“I think that was the best sex we’ve ever had.”

“Think?! Oh, I know that wa-” JJ went silent when there was a knock at the door.

“Shit,” you whispered and rushed to your feet.

You hurried to put back on your bikini bottoms and shorts, ignoring the numbness in your legs. JJ pulled up his underwear and secured his pants in record time. He fixed your top for you as you buttoned your shorts and cleared your throat.

When you finally opened the door a smidge, you smiled sweetly at Sarah who was on the other side. She furrowed her brow as she noticed your messy hair, until she saw JJ in the mirror.

“Oh, God.. You didn’t,” was all she said. She slapped a hand over her eyes when you opened the door wider and she saw that both of you were covered in sweat. The bathroom absolutely reaked of sex. “In my bathroom?!”

“It was his idea!” you quickly put all blame on the blonde behind you.

JJ put his hand over his chest in mock offense but quickly dropped it. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and hooked his chin over your shoulder.

“Sorry, Sarah,” he mumbled and pouted playfully at your friend.

Sarah scoffed but laughed slightly anyway, turning around and walking back towards the stairs. “You are both totally bleaching that whole bathroom tomorrow!” she called to you, only half joking.

JJ pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek and hummed softly in thought. He then nuzzled his nose against the spot and whispered, “Totally worth it.”

masterlist

[nerdzzone]

-More Hearts Than Mine-

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

Especially when a global pandemic is sweeping the world.

With lockdowns and stay at home orders looming on the horizon, the uncertainty of their situation becomes almost too much for Whitney Taylor to handle. Chris suggests that they quarantine together to avoid any potential separations but, given what happened the last time they spent more than a few brief moments in each other’s company, that could cause more problems than it solves…

Chris Evans x OFC

Sequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Note: Thank you so much to everyone who read this story, especially those who took the time to comment and share their thoughts! I never imagined it would get this much love and I really appreciate it.

This is the last part of this section of their story, but there will be more! I don’t have too much planned yet, but I’m definitely going to write a little prequel about how it all started and then maybe a series of one shots of various events in their lives or a follow up series a bit in the future. Keep an eye out for that and enjoy this last part for now!

Part Four

_____

Part Five

It was still dark when I woke up.

It took a moment for me to remember where I was and why I was intertwined with a very warm, sculpted body, but as the memories came back to me, I was relieved that it was still early. We hadn't had the forethought to set any alarms despite agreeing that I should leave before Grayson came down so it was lucky that I'd woken up naturally.

I knew I needed to leave while I had the chance, before I drifted back off to sleep, but the peaceful look on Chris' face was hard to disturb. It had been an emotional night for both of us at the end of a busy day so I tried to slip away without waking him up, but even in his sleep, he wasn't ready to let me go. His grip tightened the moment I started to wiggle and I couldn't help but smile at his need to keep me close.

Stretching up, I placed soft kisses along his jaw as I quietly called out his name between each one. It took a few moments, but eventually he stirred and his grip tightened on me again as he tilted his head to look down at me.

"What time is it?"

His voice was raspy with sleep and it sent tingles down my spine.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "But I should probably go upstairs."

Chris leaned up on his arm just enough to look over me to glance at the clock on his nightstand.

"It's only five," he informed me. "Stay."

"He gets up early some days."

My words were true, but he wasn't going to be swayed.

"Never before six, we've got time."

Before I could put forth any more arguments, he leaned down and silenced me with a kiss.

It felt strange - waking up in his bed, sharing such casual affection - but it felt so right.  

I let my hands slide over his toned chest, soaking in the hard shape of his muscles, enjoying the shiver that ran through him as I ghosted my fingers down over his prominent abs before trailing back up his waist. A smile slid onto my face as I pulled back slightly.

"How'd you get so many abs?" I mumbled. "It's not fair."

I felt Chris' lips twitch into a smirk against my own as he slid his hands under my shorts as he had the night before.

"No more unfair than you walking around in these sexy pajamas for the last few weeks..."

I snorted a laugh and pulled away to look down at what I was wearing before looking back at him.

"I don't wear sexy pajamas," I protested. "These are old and frumpy."

"What are you talkin' about?" He laughed. "Who in their right mind thinks booty shorts are frumpy?"

"These are not booty shorts, they're normal shorts."

"Well, they're short enough that they've been driving me crazy,"  he informed me, leaning down to hover his lips over mine again. "But then again, you could wear anything and make it look fuckin' hot."

I felt my cheeks heat up at his compliment, but before I could deny it, his lips were back on mine.

It was a slow and lazy kiss and I was struck by how different this felt to the intimate moments we'd shared before. There was no threat of one of us coming to our senses and running away, we could relax and enjoy every moment. The knowledge that this was something deeper, something stronger than a fleeting moment of weakness made it feel all the more profound; it made the fire that was building inside me burn brighter with every brush of his tongue against mine and every tug of my hips against his.

His hands kneaded and squeezed my bum as I let one of mine rest on his chest while the other tightened on his bicep. His tense, sculpted bicep. So much for out of shape, I thought to myself remembering our earlier conversation, but I didn't have time to voice any arguments against the claim that he'd made before he drew my mind back into the moment.

Pulling back slightly, he nipped at my lower lip and began trailing kisses down my jaw. I hummed happily at the sensation until he focused on a spot just below my ear, a spot that pulled a gasp from my lips. Encouraged by the sound, he sucked there, gently at first but steadily increased the pressure until his teeth grazed against my skin and I couldn't hold back a soft moan.

He chuckled as he pulled his mouth back, just enough for his breath to hit my neck and send shivers down my spine.

"I can't wait to find all the places that do that to you..."

I felt my cheeks heat up, partially from the shame of how easily he'd found such a sensitive spot and partially from the anticipation of him finding more.

"Shut up," I mumbled, moving my hand from his arm to his jaw to lift his mouth back to mine.

He smirked into the kiss, letting our lips stay together as his hands slid up from under my shorts to under my shirt instead. He wasted no time lifting it over my head, tossing it aside and settling his hands on my chest. Another gasp slipped out of me as his fingers found my nipples and pinched them softly. The sensation alone sent a wave of arousal through me, but as he leaned back to flick his eyes down and take in the sight, I felt the heat between my legs grow even more. His pupils darkened as he bit his bottom lip and I let my hips rock against his.

"Chris," I practically panted. "Please..."

He pulled his eyes back up to meet mine as if my voice had snapped him out of a trance and he smiled, kissing me again.

"Patience, Winnie. Patience."

Winnie. It was a nickname he'd started using years ago, the first night we met. It wasn't until he mumbled it now that I realized how long it had been since he'd used it. Probably not since I'd told him that we were better off as friends, I'd just been Whitney since then. The sound of it made my heart clench as I captured his mouth with mine and arched into him. I needed to feel him - I needed that closeness.

He let me press against him, moving his hands so my chest could rest against his and letting them trail down to quickly rid himself of his pants and me of my shorts before settling them back on my thighs. He kissed me deeply, his tongue teasing mine as his hands slowly moved higher, taking advantage of the position of my leg over his hip as one hand slid between us.

I gripped him, gasping against his mouth as he pressed his thumb against my clit while one finger, quickly followed by another, sunk inside me.

My head fell back then, giving Chris the opportunity to press his lips against the exposed skin.

"Never get tired of seeing you like this..."

The words were mumbled into my neck, but I couldn't even fathom a response as my eyes squeezed shut, too distracted by the feeling of the movement between my legs. I knew the thickness of his fingers was only a hint of what was to come, the slow yet purposeful rubbing was just a tease and that thought was almost overwhelming.

I wanted to touch him, I wanted to hear him whimper and feel him squirm like I was, but when I reached out to touch his hard cock that lay between us, he used his free hand to pull mine away, pinning it to his chest. At the same time, he pressed harder on my clit and I couldn't find the strength to argue as my arousal became almost overwhelming.

"Chris, please," I repeated my earlier plea, but he played dumb as he raised an eyebrow.

"Please?"

I wanted - no, needed - him inside me, to feel the stretch and ache of his cock as his hips thrust against mine, but as hard as I tried to focus and get more words out, more specific directions, my mind went blank. He looked smug at my helplessness, but a curl of his fingers had my eyes fluttering shut as a moan tore from my throat and my hips moved against his hand as if they were no longer under my control. I heard a faint 'shh' before Chris' lips covered mine again in an attempt to swallow the noises I couldn't hold back.

He was relentless as he stroked the sensitive spot he’d found with every move of his fingers. It was intense. Too intense but not intense enough at the same time until suddenly it was perfect. My nails dug into Chris' arm, my thigh gripping his hip as if to keep him exactly where he was and the pleasure ripped through my body.

My chest heaved as I came down from the high, my hand going to Chris' wrist to guide his away from me, needing a relief from the stimulation once the trembles of my orgasm had stopped. He rested his hand on my hip instead, stroking the skin softly as he laid soft, gentle kisses on my lips until I relaxed.

Eventually I melted against him, my body loose from my release which was a stark contrast to the tension that ran through him. He was impossibly hard, already leaking, and practically his whole body twitched as I let my hand drift over him from base to tip.

"Whitney," he choked out. "Fuck."

His voice was strangled, his eyes wide, pupils blown and the vision of him so wound up sent another wave of heat through me. I teased him for a moment, a lazy smirk on my face as he shivered under my touch, but he didn't let me have my fun for long.

He shifted slightly, pushing forward enough to knock me onto my back. My hand slipped away from him and he caught it in his, lacing our fingers together as he pinned it to the bed. Shifting his hips, he settled into position before reaching down with his free hand to guide himself inside me making us both moan at the sensation. He surprised me by how continually restrained he was as he slowly pressed forward until he was buried completely. The stretch was fierce and I felt every inch of him, soaking in the feeling as my body adjusted. Once I was comfortable, I rocked my hips and gasped at the friction.

Chris pressed his lips against my shoulder, his hand gripping mine a little tighter as he pulled out almost as slowly as he'd pushed in. The second thrust was slightly more forceful, but it was clear he was holding back, using the soft movements to build the tension between us.

And it was working.

Every slow drag had me feeling every inch, every brush against every nerve and I felt myself quivering around him within moments.

He nudged his nose against my chin as he trailed his lips up until they pressed against mine again.

"Look at me."

His demand came out in a grunt, but I forced my eyes open to meet his. His gaze was intense and it was hard not to look away, but there was more behind his stare. A softness, a twinkle, a look of love. My breath caught in my throat as I let my free hand move to his cheek.

I held his stare as he continued his gentle thrusts, the speed increasing as his will power waned and I matched him, letting myself rub against him with each movement. It didn't take long for the pressure to start building, for the slow and consistent friction against the most sensitive parts of my body to make me tighten and clench as my release began to build again. But as it built, so did the emotions bubbling in my chest.

This closeness. The intimacy. The difference between this moment and any we'd shared before. How he was taking his time, like every touch was purposeful and like every movement had more meaning behind it than words could express. It was unlike anything I'd felt before and it made my heart ache.

He was watching me as my eyes grew misty, grunting with almost every thrust and soon, the intensity was too much.

I pressed towards him, pushing to meet his movements as my eyes fell shut, my jaw dropping as I panted against him. I felt his grip tighten on my hand again as he picked up speed until our hips were crashing together.

I let my arms lace around his neck, pulling him closer to me so I could bury my face against the skin of his shoulder as it took mere moments - practically seconds - for me to fall over the edge, muffling my repressed cries with his muscles.

"Fuck," Chris groaned, his head hanging low as his own release was edged closer by mine.

He thrust once, twice, three more times before pulling out completely leaving me twitching around nothing as he spilled on my stomach. He held himself steady, eyes squeezed shut, chest heaving, until he caught his breath and let his arms relax, rolling over to lay next to me.

That was when the wave of emotion I'd been feeling crashed down on me. As I laid there, covered in his cum, I suddenly felt as exposed and vulnerable as I had during our conversation the night before. I bit my bottom lip to stop it trembling, but I couldn't hold back the tears as they began trailing down my cheeks and onto the pillow below my head.

I could hear Chris breathing next to me as he came down from his release, but I stayed perfectly still, hoping not to draw any attention to myself. It wasn't until I drew in a shaky breath that he noticed I was crying.

"Hey, whoa, what's going on?" He asked, rolling onto his side so he was facing me. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I choked out. "I'm just...overwhelmed."

"Overwhelmed in a good way?" He asked, his worry written all over his face. "Or bad?"

"Good," I assured him, smiling softly and reaching up to stroke his cheek. "It's all good, I promise."

"Okay," Chris nodded, but there was still concern in his eyes. "I'll be right back."

He scurried off to the bathroom, reappearing moments later with a damp cloth. He quickly, but gently wiped up the mess on my stomach before throwing the cloth in the laundry basket in the corner and climbing back into bed. As soon as he was settled, he pulled me into his arms and let me rest my head on his chest.

We stayed like that, holding onto each other as Chris whispered quiet reassurances to me for a few minutes until my tears came under control.

"Sorry," I sniffled. "That's so embarrassing."

"It's not," he insisted, stroking my arm softly. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Absolutely," I assured him, placing a soft kiss on his chest. "Better than okay. It's just been an emotional night, I guess it all kinda hit me."

"I thought," he paused. "I thought maybe you regretted it..."

His confession made me sit up so fast that it made my head spin slightly as I turned to look at him.

"No, Chris, it's not that at all! I don't regret it, not even a little bit, it's pretty much the opposite," I explained. "I'm happy and that felt different, it caught me off guard."

"Just a big emotional release then?" He questioned with a smile, waiting for me to nod in confirmation before stretching forward to place a kiss on my lips. "I love you."

I felt my heart swell from how casually he said those words and I couldn't hold back a grin as I rested my forehead against his.

"I love you too."

We soaked in our moment of bliss for a few minutes before we realized that it really was time for me to go. I was slow and reluctant as I peeled myself out of bed, still desperate to keep this peace that we'd found undisturbed as long as possible, but it was nearing six o'clock and the threat of Grayson waking up was increasing by the minute.

So, after pulling Chris back in for one last kiss, I snuck off back to my own room.

-

Surprisingly, I fell asleep again almost as soon as I crawled into my own bed. The excitement and stress of the last twenty-four hours had me more tired than I realized and I didn't wake up again until just after eight o'clock.

As I laid in bed, trying to wrap my mind around everything that happened, I found myself feeling strangely nervous about going downstairs. I could have stayed in bed with Chris forever - away from the world and prying eyes, just the two of us soaking each other in as we made up for lost time - but things were always harder when you integrate them into real life. I tried to reassure myself, convince myself that we were the same as before, just with more kissing and wonderful orgasms, but that seemed like a bit of a stretch.

We'd spent so many years keeping each other at arms length to dull the pain of not being together and avoid any signs of our feelings slipping out. I had no idea how to act around him now that we were together.

I knew that hiding in my room all day wasn't going to solve anything though so after a quick shower, I headed downstairs.

It became clear that I'd missed breakfast as the noise of laughter floated in from the living room and while I smiled at the sound, I headed to the kitchen in search of coffee first.

I thought I'd snuck down quietly, but I'd barely put the cream in my drink when I felt hands on my waist and lips against my neck. I tensed, feeling my nerves bubble back up to the surface, but I turned in his arms to face him.

"Good morning," Chris smiled before leaning and pressing a soft peck on my lips. I forced a smile in return, but my brain was racing and Chris picked up on that right away. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "It just feels weird. Being able to touch you or kiss you or whatever. I resisted for so long, it seems odd to do it now."

"Sounds like someone is overthinking things," Chris teased as he raised an eyebrow. "Because you literally threw yourself at me in front of my entire family yesterday with no hesitation."

My jaw dropped as Chris smirked down at me.

"I did not throw myself at you," I protested. "At least, not how you're implying! I tackled you in a sporting situation!"

"Ah," Chris' smirk widened. "So, you admit it was a tackle then?"

"You made sure the point didn't count," I reminded him as I rolled my eyes. "I don't understand what you're trying to prove."

Chris chuckled and pulled me closer causing me to instinctively put my arms around his neck to help me balance against him.

"I'm trying to prove that you used to touch me plenty without a second thought," he informed me. "And I remember because I savoured every little touch."

I couldn't hold back a teasing and somewhat patronizing 'awwwe' at that admission and Chris mumbled a gentle 'shut up' before forcing me to do so by pressing his lips against mine.

I was cautiously mindful that we'd agreed not to tell Grayson about this for a while - and that making out in the kitchen gave him a pretty good opportunity to catch us unaware - but it was just too hard to resist the sensation of Chris' tongue sliding against mine and luckily, it wasn't Gray who stumbled upon us.

"Wow," Scott let out a low whistle. "What do we have here?"

I felt my cheeks heat up, like we were teenagers caught by a parent, as I pulled away from Chris. He turned back to face his brother, a smirk on his face.

"Surprise!"

"Is it official?" Scott asked, the grin on his face warming my heart. He seemed genuinely giddy for us. "When did this happen?"

"Last night," Chris answered, looking down at me with a goofy smile. "And yeah, I'd say it's pretty official?"

I nodded, letting my hand slip into his and squeezing it gently as Scott let out a 'whoop' of excitement.

"I'm happy for you guys! It's about fucking time!"

We laughed at his enthusiasm as the patter of little feet on the floor alerted us to an incoming presence. I let Chris' hand fall away from mine and picked my coffee up instead, trying to look casual in a way that was probably unnecessary when dealing with an oblivious three year old.

"Uncle Scott said a bad word!"

Scott rolled his eyes as he ruffled his nephew's hair.

"I swear, that word is like a bat signal for him," he joked. "Every time I say it, he appears out of no where!"

"Then maybe you shouldn't use bad words at all," I pointed out, smiling as Grayson wiggled away from his Uncle's hand. "Then Grayson wouldn't have to keep you in line."

"You're right," Scott sighed with another roll of his eyes. "Sorry, Grayson. I'll try to remember not to say it."

Grayson nodded, pleased that his language policing was successful before turning his attention back to me.

"Mama, I need help."

"With what?"

He dashed across the room and grabbed my empty hand as he tugged me towards the door he'd just come through.

"My new dinosaur puzzle," he explained. "It's too hard."

"The one from Grandma Jane?" I asked, referring to the birthday gift that my mom had sent him. He nodded in confirmation as we walked into the living room. "Oh, that one did seem tricky. It's pretty big."

He nodded again as he sat down in front of where he'd scattered out all the pieces. He'd managed to get a few of them together correctly, but most of what he'd assembled had been wrongly forced in to place. I rested my mug on the coffee table and sat down next to him. He eagerly climbed into my lap, with a puzzle piece in each hand and bit his lip in concentration as he attached one of the pieces correctly to the ones he'd already connected.

"Good job! See, I don't think you need my help. You're great at puzzles."

"I do," he insisted. "It's too big."

"Okay," I agreed. "I'll stay here just in case you run into trouble."

Grayson flashed me a smile and got back to work as Chris settled in the chair facing us. I noticed he was on his phone, but I didn't realize he was taking a picture until he turned it around to show me. It was a lovely photo, from the focused look on Grayson's face to the soft, affectionate smile on mine as I looked down at him. Since there weren't usually many other adults around when Grayson was with me, I had always regretted that we didn't have many pictures of us together. He would humour me for the odd selfie, but candid photos of us were few and far between.

"That's nice," I smiled. "Can you send it to me?"

Chris nodded his head before his lips twitched into a smirk.

"I just signed up for Instagram actually," he informed me. "Maybe I'll post it on there."

I snorted a laugh at that suggestion as I shook my head.

"Your fans are already sharpening their pitchforks and lighting their torches after that recent interview, are you trying to get me killed?"

"Maybe it'll help," Chris shrugged, but the smirk that was still firmly planted on his face told me he wasn't serious. "It'll be less fun to gossip about us if I just post pictures of you all the time."

I turned my attention back to Grayson for a moment to help him find the right spot for a piece before looking back over at Chris.

"I don't think that would work," I warned him. "When did you get Instagram anyway?"

"A few days ago, but I haven't posted anything yet," he admitted. "I don't really know how to use it."

"You're such an old man," I teased him with a laugh. "Why did you even get it if you don't know how to use it?"

He shrugged again as he answered while Gray let out a little cheer as he put several more pieces in place.

"It's good for promoting stuff. Which will be important when we launch A Starting Point."

"That's true," I nodded. "And you can post all those 'thirst traps' that your fans love."

Chris raised an eyebrow and his age showed again when he questioned me.

"Thirst traps? What's a thirst trap?"

"It's when you post..." I paused to cover Grayson's ears briefly. "Sexy selfies to deliberately rile people up."

"Oh my god," Chris tossed his head back as he barked out a laugh. "I don't do that. The only selfies I post are of me and Dodger."

"I've seen the pictures," I reminded him. "You always make sure those bulging biceps are on display."

"That meets your definition of a thirst trap?" He raised an eyebrow. "You're easy to impress."

Now it was my turn to smirk.

"Or maybe I've just been really thirsty for you these last few years."

"Gross!" Scott protested as he walked in, a fresh cup of coffee in his hand. "If you're thirsty, I can get you a glass of water. Any other type of thirst should not be discussed while you're around me or your son."

I apologized, despite the giggle that slipped out, knowing that was a perfectly fair request. Chris, however, couldn't resist taunting his brother.

"Oh, I think she'll be fine," he informed him. "I quenched her thirst pretty well this morning."

I gasped and covered Grayson's ears even though he'd already heard the inappropriate thing his father had just said. Luckily, he was too young to understand what it meant, but Scott pretended to gag as he clearly got the joke.

"Okay, from now on, there will be none of that talk around me," Scott demanded. "No euphemisms, no jokes, no inappropriate touching or you two can go stay somewhere else and Gray and I will stay here together.”

I squeezed Grayson tight as I shook my head, displeased with that idea.

"We'll behave," I assured him. "Sorry, Scott."

Scott accepted my apology on the condition that we follow his instructions and Chris shot me a wink from where he sat.

I bit my lip to hide a smile so as to not antagonize Scott anymore and I took a moment to appreciate the situation. There was a lot of terrible, dark stuff happening in the world right now and I was incredibly grateful that we had a little pocket of brightness to bask in.

-

Chris and I soon found ourselves settled into things and getting swept up that new relationship bliss. That period of time that was filled with sultry glances, discreet touches taken during any possible moment, flirtatious giggles over silly little things - we were revelling in it all.

We did our best to be subtle - to keep Grayson unaware and to respect Scott's very reasonable ground rules - but from the near constant eye rolls from Scott, we weren't as discreet as we thought we were. He got particularly annoyed during our Mario Kart competitions as Chris' goal had shifted from winning every race, to taking out Scott so that I stood a chance. It was not a natural skill for me - I came last every time under normal circumstances - so I was grateful for any assistance I could get and made sure to thoroughly reward Chris for his help.

For the most part though, we'd reached a kind of peace that was nothing short of revitalizing. It was absolutely amazing to me how refreshed I felt now that we'd taken the plunge. I hadn't realized just how crippling our situation had been for me or the amount of energy I'd wasted fighting and suppressing my feelings for Chris. Now that we were together, it was like a fog had lifted on my brain. I had more energy and woke up with an excitement every day that I hadn't felt in a long time. I loved Grayson and he brought me a tremendous amount of joy, but there had always been a hole in our lives. I known that all along but now that the hole was closing, I was starting to realize just how big it had been and how detrimental it was even if I’d had the best intentions.

However, it only took about a week for the complications to start and all because Grayson was in a mood.

He woke up that way, as kids sometimes do, but it seemed like nothing we tried to do could help him shake off the grumpiness that he was feeling.

He fought Chris all through breakfast, he scowled all through his favourite morning cartoons and we narrowly avoided a meltdown when Scott headed out on his roller blades with Dodger and left Grayson at home. (He was an excellent uncle, but he gave Grayson more than his fair share of attention and we respected his need for some time to himself). After a good fifteen minutes of sulking and stomping around, I managed to distract him with his favourite train track, but even that relief was short-lived.

He played happily with me for almost half an hour, but he was still carrying a lot of tension in his body. It all came bursting out as soon as two of the pieces of track wouldn't slide back together as easily as he would have liked. Before I could offer any assistance, he let out a growl and tossed the pieces at the wall and kicking apart the ones we'd connected on the floor.

"Okay, Gray," I sighed. "That's enough. We don't throw our things around like that. You need to pick them up and put all this track away."

Grayson crossed his arms and shook his head.

"No."

I braced myself for a long stand-off as I nodded.

"It's not a choice," I insisted. "Come on, I'll help you."

"No," he told me firmly. "You do it!"

"I'll help you," I repeated. "But it's your mess, so you need to clean it up."

Grayson was unswayed as he continued to shake his head, but before I could try anything else to persuade him, Chris poked his head into the room we were in.

"I'm making lunch," he informed us. "Do you want a grilled cheese sandwich, buddy?"

A smile burst onto Grayson's face.

"Yes, please!"

He scampered over to the doorway where Chris was standing, but I was quick to voice my protests.

"Not so fast," I warned him. "You need to clean up all this track before you can do anything."

Grayson's face fell as he realized that he wasn't going to get away with his escape.

"No!" He snapped. "You need to go home!"

I was taken aback by that suggestion and how fiercely he demanded it, but Chris didn't hesitate as he jumped to my defence.

"Grayson, don't speak to your Ma like that," he scolded him. "Let's pick it up together and then we can go have some lunch."

"No, I don't want to!"

His voice was rising as he stomped his foot for dramatic effect and I sighed.

"I did offer to help already, but he wasn't having any of it."

"Well, we've got to get this mess cleaned up," Chris shrugged, throwing a few pieces in the tub as an example. "We can't leave it all over the floor or it'll get broken."

"I don't care!" Grayson insisted. "You're stupid!"

There were tears of frustration building up in his eyes as Chris winced at his uncharacteristic insult. I frowned, feeling my patience slip away despite my concern for why on earth Grayson was so wound up.

"Gray, that's not a nice thing to say," I sighed. "What's going on with you today? Why are you feeling so frustrated?"

I kept my voice soft and tried to hide my own feelings of frustration, but it did nothing to calm Grayson.

"I'm not!"

It was clearly a lie, but I threw a few more pieces in the tub, hoping to inspire him to help a little bit.

"See, look," Chris gestured to me. "Your mom will pick up the pieces on this side and you and I can do the ones on the other. Deal?"

"No! No deal!"

"Wow," Chris mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear. "What is going on with him today?"

"I have no idea," I murmured back to him before turning my attention back to Gray. I moved over so I was kneeling in front of him and tried to look him in the eye despite his best efforts to look away. "C'mon, buddy. We can't do anything else until this mess gets cleaned up, so why don't we just get it over with and do it fast?"

"Go away, Mama," he demanded. "Go home! We don't want you here now!"

I knew his words were said out of anger and that he didn't mean it, but I couldn't deny that they hurt, especially with how passionately he spat them at me. I was momentarily stunned, but Chris leapt to my aid again as he appeared at my side, kneeling in front of Grayson as well. His jaw was tight, a clear sigh that his patience was thinning as quickly as mine.

"Grayson, that's not true," he insisted. "We love having your Ma here."

"No, I hate it!"

"Oh, do you?" Chris matched his scowl as Grayson nodded. "Well, you better get used to it because things are different now. We've decided that it would be nice for us to be a family."

"Huh?"

Grayson's eyebrows wrinkled together in confusion and my heart sank. I wasn't sure what Chris was thinking, but this wasn't how I wanted Grayson to find out.

"Your Ma and I love each other very much," Chris elaborated. "And we want us all to be together all the time, so you guys won't be going home anymore. You won't have to go back and forth."

Grayson's brow furrowed even more as his bottom lip wobbled for the few seconds it took for him to burst into tears. Chris looked shocked and I cringed as Grayson ran out of the room, the sound of his cries echoing up the stairs until his bedroom door slammed.

"Chris..." I started once the house was silent.

"I know, I know."

Chris shook his head as he stood up and helped me to my feet, but I wasn't about to let this go.

"What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," he admitted. "I was frustrated. He's been hard work today."

"I know he has." I was agreeing, but my tone wasn't one of solidarity. "But it's best not to inform children of massive life changes out of frustration or while they're in the middle of a tantrum!"

Chris huffed and crossed his arms, looking not unlike Grayson had only minutes before.

"He shouldn't talk to you like that."

"He's three, Chris!" I reminded him. "You can't drop bombs like that when he doesn't even understand what you're talking about! And, for the record, I don't remember ever agreeing to move in here permanently."

Chris swallowed hard as a frown slid onto his face. He looked worn out and if I wasn't so annoyed, I would have felt sympathetic. This had been a trying day during a very trying time and we were all just doing the best that we could. But that applied to Grayson as well and as difficult as he was being, he didn't deserve to have that news thrown in his face in a way he couldn't even comprehend.

"I just assumed..."

"I know you did, but that's something we need to discuss before you bring it up with Gray."

"It makes the most sense."

"Maybe so," I shrugged. "But we're moving a little bit fast here, don't you think? Two weeks ago we were barely speaking and now you want me to fully move in with you?"

"You've already moved in."

"It's different though," I insisted. "This is temporary, most of our stuff is still at home."

Chris looked down at me, the sadness and disappointment on his face making him look even more like a little boy, but his sad face wasn't the one I was most concerned about right now as my thoughts moved back to Grayson.

"Look, clearly we have more to discuss and work out, but I need to go check on Gray right now."

Chris still looked downtrodden, but he nodded.

"Alright, I'll come with you."

He moved towards the doorway, but I stopped him.

"Do you mind if I talk to him first?"

His face fell again, but he moved out of the way and wordlessly gestured for me to pass by him. I stretched up to place a kiss on his cheek and mumbled a 'thank you' in his ear before heading up to Grayson's room.

-

I knocked when I got to Grayson's door, but was unsurprised by his rude response.

"Go away!"

His tone was angry, but it sounded like his tears had subsided and I was grateful for that. I ignored his request and slowly opened the door, the sight inside almost bringing tears to my own eyes.

He had a little bag on his bed and was packing his things into it. The important stuff, of course, like all his favourite toys, but it broke my heart that we'd upset him so badly.

"What are you doing?" I asked quietly. "Are you going somewhere?"

"I'm going home," he told me, not looking away from his current task until he decided a clarification was needed. "To our home."

I sat on the bed next to where he was packing, trying to take the surety with which he spoke seriously.

"How are you going to get there?"

He was unfazed by that logical question as he answered.

"I'm going to walk."

"Walk?" I raised my eyebrows. "Wow. That's impressive. I don't think that I could even walk that far."

He faltered then, suddenly looking a tad less confident in his decision.

"Can you take me?"

"We can't go back there right now," I informed him with a sad smile. "We're not allowed to go anywhere right now, are we?" I paused while he shook his head. "So, if we went home, we'd have to stay inside that tiny little apartment all day every day. That wouldn't be much fun, would it?"

His face fell as he tried to wrap his mind around that and his bottom lip started to quiver again.

"But...I miss it."

Almost as soon as he finished speaking, he burst into tears. I hated seeing him so upset and was relieved when he let me pull him into my lap.

"I'm sorry, baby," I cooed into his hair, rocking him gently as I rubbed his back. "Things have been kinda strange for you lately, haven't they?"

He wailed out a 'yeah' as he nodded his head and I held him tightly, waiting until his tears subsided to try and offer anymore comfort. Once the sobs turned to sniffles, I spoke again.

"Daddy shouldn't have told you that we'd be staying here forever because I don't know if we are," I assured him. "Daddy was just frustrated because you were hurting my feelings when you said that you wanted me to leave."

"I don't want you to go home..."

His words were quiet, weaker now that he'd shifted from angry to sad and I wasn't sure which made my heart ache more.

"I'm not going home," I promised. "But things have changed between Daddy and I, like he said. We love each other and we want us to be a family. You know, like how Stella, Miles and Ethan all live together with both their parents."

I wasn't explaining it well, but I hadn't had the time that I'd hoped for to plan a simple and informative way to tell him and I was winging it. It wasn't working apparently as I felt Grayson shake his head.

"No, thank you."

I leaned back a bit, using my sleeve to wipe his eyes as I looked down at him.

"Why don't you like that idea?" I asked, a bit surprised by his negative opinion on the matter.

"I miss just Daddy time!" He told me, his eyes still glassy with tears even though they'd stopped rolling down his cheeks. "And just you time!"

It made sense. He spent almost his entire life having nothing, but one on one time with us and now suddenly he had none. We thought he would enjoy the opportunity to be with us both together, but it wasn't unreasonable that he would also miss that quality time with us apart as well.

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry. We didn't realize you were missing that, but we can still do it," I suggested. "You can have some time where you just play with Daddy and some time when you just play with me if that would make you happy?"

I kissed the top of his head and reminded myself that we were doing our best and hadn't purposely caused any unnecessary stress to our child as I squeezed him close and he nodded his head.

"Yes, please,” Grayson sniffled out as there was a knock on the door and Chris poked his head in.

"Everything okay?" He asked. "I heard crying..."

"We're okay," I assured him as I patted the bed next to me. "You can come in."

Chris didn't miss a beat as he crossed the room and sat down next to me, the worry on his face making me feel bad for not letting him come up right away.

"Grayson was just telling me that he misses having time with us by himself," I explained. "He doesn't want it to be family time all the time."

"We can do that," Chris nodded. "You're the star of the show here, buddy. We want you to be happy, that's the most important thing."

Grayson looked at him suspiciously, but Chris continued before he could argue.

"I shouldn't have said that you have to move in here once all the germs go away," he assured him, flashing his eyes up to meet mine as if he was talking to me as much as he was Grayson. "You two can decide that when the time comes. I didn't mean to scare you."

"I'm not scared," Grayson frowned at him. "I don't care."

I chuckled at his insistence and gave him another squeeze.

"Well, you cared a minute ago," I reminded him. "But if we make some extra effort to have some one on one time, do you think you'd like to give it a try being a family? Because I do think that I would like to try it."

Grayson twisted his face into a slightly over the top, pensive look before he eventually nodded.

"Phew," Chris matched his dramatics as he wiped his brow. "Because I think your Ma is really pretty and it's really hard for me not to do this all the time..."

As soon as he finished speaking he leaned over and pressed a sloppy kiss on my lips. I laughed against his mouth as Grayson's giggles surrounded us, followed by his shrieks of protest as he tried to pull our faces apart.

"Daddy!" He scolded Chris. "That's gross!"

Chris chuckled as he shook his head.

"You won't think kissing is gross one day."

"Yes, I will," Grayson shot him a cheeky smile. "I always will!"

Chris growled playfully as he pulled Grayson off my lap, dragging him back down onto the bed with him. His fingers were moving frantically as they tickled his sides and Grayson's giggles reached almost deafening levels.

Their laughter was contagious though and I couldn't hold back a giggle of my own as I watched them.

I was relieved that Grayson seemed to have come round to the idea of things changing. I assumed he didn't fully understand what we were talking about or what it truly meant, but the fact that the idea of change had stopped bringing forth floods of tears was rather reassuring.

I had hoped that keeping him in the dark for a while would give Chris and I some extra time - time that would give us the chance to back out without any unnecessary heartache - but seeing them together now, I realized that would be next to impossible.

Even if Grayson was unbothered by any dissolution between Chris and I, there was no going back for me. They were two of the most important people in my life and just the sight of them laughing and playing together was enough to have my heart close to bursting. I was invested and in over my head, but I was more determined than ever to make it work.

We deserved a chance at being a family and it was undeniable that there was more than enough love between the three of us to make it work with just a little bit of effort.

-

Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00

[quirkfics]

eager | gang orca

wordcount: 1569  warnings: smut, established relationship, belly bulge, penetrative sex, fingering, dirty talk, oral (just, lemon the whole way through) pairing: Gang Orca/Kugo Sakamata x Gender neutral reader note: Old but new fic! Written for the After Hours patreon way back when, with a very minor amount of sprucing up. I was.. tempted to wait til May to post it, because of MerMay stuff, but it’s been sitting almost done in here for a while. Enjoy!

Being able to work yourself open, to leave yourself messy and slick with lube has always been a prerequisite when it comes to fucking Kugo. His fingers are lovely, with the way his nails prick your skin, or how they curl behind your neck to pull you close, but they're far too sharp for tender places. Kugo's mouth is infinitely better, and the soft roll of his tongue against your most intimate parts? The thought never fails to leave you aching for want of him. Yet, to use his mouth, you both have to be patient, steady and slow. You've suffered more than one sharp knick from his razor-fine teeth, and you're not interested in taking that much time or holding that still. Not tonight. 

“Deeper,” Kugo says, voice so low and rough that you have to pause and take a breath, hand trembling, before you push your fingers into yourself as far as you possibly can. The noise it makes is obscene, and it's more than enough to have Kugo frozen in the midst of unbuttoning his suit jacket. “Back in,” he rasps, as soon as you attempt to pull your fingers out. “Hold still for a moment,” he adds and you have to clench around your own fingers, eyes fluttering momentarily closed. Kugo turns his attention back to divesting himself of clothes, moving to set each item carefully over the back of a clean chair.

The position you're in has your thighs trembling, and you must make some kind of low, desperate noise, because he glances at you over his shoulder. “All the way out, and in again,” he allows, eyes bright, and you follow his directions, breathing out slowly as you stretch yourself. He goes quiet again, angled so he can just barely see you. 

“Kugo?” You ask after a moment, watching him curl those sharp fingers around the chair back. His shoulders roll, and his biceps flex, before he finally let's go of the chair. He turns back to face you, cock thick and heavy between his thighs. The sight has you closing your eyes for a moment, and a choked moan escapes your lips as he crosses the room. “Please?” You gasp, when he comes to a stop at the end of the bed. 

“You're always so eager for it,” he murmurs, reaching down to take himself in hand. You breathe out a curse, thighs quivering while you watch that dark, sharp fingered hand stroke roughly over his shaft. He walks around the edge of the bed, eyes zeroed in on your panting mouth. “You can never wait to have me inside you.” You don't even attempt to deny it. The thought of that thick cock in your mouth, or of him thrusting up into the heat of you, has you absolutely salivating for it. Your teeth catch on your bottom lip, and you curl your fingers, lube squelching with the motion.

“Please, Kugo, I want you to fuck me. Want your cock. I wan—” a moan strangles your voice in your throat when Kugo reaches out, sharp nails terribly gentle on your scalp. He urges you closer to the edge of the bed, patient as you adjust yourself so you can reach him, fingers still slippery inside you. 

“Open your mouth,” he demands. Your lips part without hesitation, and then Kugo is guiding you towards his cock with a soft pressure against the crown of your head. He lifts himself, fingers curled around the dark length of it, stroking up to where the shaft fades into white, and the flush of palest pink. Kugo presses his cock head against your tongue, and groans when your lips close around him. He's too big for much more of him to fit in your mouth, but it's always fun to try. You suck, rolling your tongue against the smooth skin, making soft, impatient noises when he curses. “Look at that mouth of yours,” he growls, squeezing the base of his cock, rocking it gently out, brushing it against your teeth and lips, before he pushes back in. He continues the motion, jaw slowly dropping as he watches his cock disappear into your mouth, his sharp teeth gleaming in the half light. You hum softly, eyes fluttering closed, and simply lose yourself in the sensation of him, slick skin sliding over your lips. There's a small pulse against your tongue—he's getting harder—and then Kugo is pulling away. The motion is too fast, leaving you messy with saliva, drips of it on your chin, and before you can even think to wipe it away, Kugo is pushing you back onto the bed. You go without a fight.  

“Will you—” You start, but Kugo shushes you, a single finger pressed to your mouth for maybe a second, before he starts to pull away. The curl of his nail catches against your bottom lip though, and you can't resist flicking your tongue out to taste. He chuckles, and reaches down to gently tug at your wrist, silently urging you to pull your fingers out of yourself.

“You'll get what you want,” he assures you, voice deep and steady—and then he's breathing in sharply, watching your fingers come out messy and dripping. The sudden emptiness leaves you aching, but Kugo's careful hands are stroking up your thighs, parting them as he kneels on the bed. You wriggle, even though you know you won't be left wanting. 

He starts off slow, taking your slick hand and curling it around his cock, putting the remnants of lube to good use. The feel of him, wonderfully hot and heavy, curving in your hand, makes you even more eager than before.

“Please, Kugo?” You ask, squeezing, angling the hard length of him towards what you really want. “I've been waiting, I've been good—oh, fuck. Fu-” The soft rub of his cock against you has you trembling, legs spreading even further, and then he pushes, and all you want to do is arch your hips, urge him to go faster, but-

“You're always good for me,” he rasps, slowly working himself inside you, in and out, and further in, on every thrust. You lay back, biting at your bottom lip, fisting your hands in the sheets near your head to keep yourself from interrupting. Kugo is slow and steady, pushing until you're gasping, his hands sliding up your thighs and then curling around your hips, anchoring you. You feel almost too full now, and still, he can't fit all of himself inside you. “So good, so-” He rolls his hips, and his eyes fall closed when he bottoms out, nails pricking into your skin. Kugo stops, just taking a moment to breathe, and you know he’s giving you time to adjust to his girth, but you just want more. More movement, more noise, as much of him as he’s willing to give, filling you up, over and—your brain short circuits, desire overriding any attempt to plan things out.

“Fuck me,” you plead, breath leaving you in a rush as you lift your hips. Your abdomen bulges slightly, too full, and then, finally, Kugo is moving. He leans over you, hands sliding up your body until he’s tweaking your nipple with one hand and bracing himself on his other forearm. 

“No please?” He asks, voice low and strained, but teasing. If the light were better, you’re sure you would spy a smile in his eyes. Instead you’re hyper focused on the feeling of his cock almost slipping out of you as he pulls back, and then, with one swift thrust, he’s back inside, and you can’t stop talking. 

“Yes, yes, please, all of it. Give me, give-” You grunt, eyes falling closed as he starts rocking into you steadily, just a little faster than before. “Want all of you, just, Kugo!” He’s gentle, careful, even while he fucks you, and the sharpness of his teeth against your shoulder has your arousal spiking. You let go of the sheets, sliding one of your hands up the side of his face, reaching towards his dorsal fin and scream when he bottoms out inside you again, teeth pressing harder into your skin. “Kugo, Kugo, I’m gonna come, fuck, fuck!” 

He doesn’t let up, hips slapping against the back of your thighs as he fucks you through orgasm. There’s a harsh groan against your shoulder, his wide tongue laving over the marks he’s left, and then Kugo is pulling back, just enough to see your face, bracing himself on both forearms. “I couldn’t wait to watch—watch you fall apart,” he rasps, and maybe you’re oversensitive, with your legs still shaking, but everything, his cock inside you, the press of his body ; it feels hotter. Blistering. “I’ve been able to think of little else,” he adds, and then his pace skips. His hips stutter, thrusts becoming choppy, and then you’re full again, gasping and messy as he comes inside you, sharp fingers curling into the sheets. Kugo is moaning, forehead pressed to yours, and one more sharp thrust has you cursing, and then laughing, soft and pleased, when he slumps onto you with a sigh. “Something amusing?” He asks, but he sounds like you, content, relaxed. 

“Happy,” you murmur, pressing a small kiss to his nose. “Potentially looking forward to another round. After cleanup?” Kugo pulls back, looking down at the mess he’s made of you with a pleased expression. 

“Most definitely.”

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: A Hoarding Problem.

Pairing: Pro-Hero!Yandere!Touya/Reader (Boku No Hero Academia).

Word Count: 2.5k

Synopsis: Todoroki Touya has a problem, and he’s not sure he wants to fix it.

TW: Hero AU, Minor Spoilers, Kidnapping, Mutual Extortion, Emotional Manipulation, Slight Gaslighting, Bondage, Implied Infantilization, Mention of Sedatives (No Actual Use), and Themes of Poverty. 

Todoroki Touya had a problem.

He had a lot of problems, technically. His secretary always managed to schedule the most important meetings at the least convenient times, his coffee never seemed hot enough but always burnt his tongue, and despite his fame and wealth and strange, cult-like popularity, the only thing journalists ever seemed to want to talk about was his father, why Touya didn’t inherit the ‘Endeavour’ title, how long it’d take him to live up to all those stacking, swelling expectations. He had a lot of problems, dozens, hundreds. He had a lot. Everyone did, but Touya didn’t have to deal with everyone else’s.

He just had to deal with you.

You were one of those concentrated types, your smile always a little too personal and your stare always a little too intense, like you were trying to see how much his organs would go for on the black-market before you bothered to cut him open. You were put together, too, and if he hadn’t taken the liberty of following you home so many times, he never would’ve guessed you were staying at some cheap, back-alley motel, the kind meant for people who just wanted to be anywhere but the place they used to be. A run-away, he’d guessed, at first, but you were too old for that, and you were too good at pretending you weren’t living out of the suitcase Touya was starting to get tired of rummaging through. Maybe you were a petty criminal, a villain too minor to be on his radar - he didn’t know, and he really wasn’t interested in finding out. All that mattered to him was that he’d met you, decided he liked you, and hadn’t been able to think about much else since. It was an issue, really, and it was starting to get in the way of his work. It was starting to get in the way of everything.

But, he’d had this kind of problem before. He knew what to do. He knew how to handle it.

You seemed to want to be handled, too.

You were laughing, again, but he wasn’t really sure why. It might’ve been something he said, your own little joke, but he didn’t mind the sound, all bells and wind chimes and a practiced ease that threatened to divert his focus, as he tried to keep his eyes on the road. You were slumped in the passenger seat, and if he checked, he was sure you’d be looking out the window, counting turns, memorizing street names, doing what little you could to track the convoluted, darkened route he’d been sure to plan out days ago. You’d come willingly, but you wanted to make sure you’d be able to find your way back without his help. For his own sake, Touya pretended you were just being cautious. 

“I didn’t expect a Hero to live so far from the city.” Your voice was just as light, just a notch more confident than it had been at the convenience store you both frequented, the one you’d been working at when he stumbled in, closer to sunrise than sunset and ready to fall in love with the first person who smiled at him. The job hadn’t lasted, but Touya couldn’t think of a reason to mourn the loss. You wouldn’t have been desperate enough to take him up on his offer, if you still had a steady income. “Didn’t mark you down as one of those ‘cabin in the woods’ types, either. I’m not going to find, like, a box of dismembered body parts or anything, right?” 

“Obviously,” He scoffed, his tone just playful enough to be disarming. “I try to keep my victims in one piece. Hackjobs aren’t as satisfying as you’d think.”

That earned a jab to his side, an offended ‘my hackjob would be’, but you lost interest in the exchange as soon as he reached the driveway, coming to a stop in front of that sprawling, climbing villa, three stories of concrete and glass, a stark contrast from the forest that surrounded it. You took a moment to take it in, scanning over the building, a predator evaluating its docile prey. When you turned towards Touya, your smile was just a little wider, your expression just a little brighter. “I really can’t thank you enough,” You went on, your tone so sentimental, Touya could almost ignore the hollowness behind it. “You sure you’re alright with this? My last place fell through, but I’m sure I’ll be able to find somewhere else to--”

“Don’t worry about that. All this is curtesy of the Hero Commission, and they don’t keep track of who comes ang goes.” Touya didn’t wait for you to finish, he didn’t have to, even if he did let himself enjoy your faux-gratitude as he undid his seatbelt. “Besides, it’s my job, right? I wouldn't want to find out you went and got yourself hurt because I couldn’t be bothered to clean out my guest room.” There was a slight pause, a short hesitation. You flinched when he raised his hand, but you didn’t pull away as he cupped your cheek, only learning into his warm palm. “Besides, I can’t say I’d mind a little company, all alone out here.”

In his defense, he wasn’t going to kiss you. Really, he wasn’t that mean, but he didn’t have a chance to refuse, not before your lips were on his, your hands in his hair, all sudden passion and over-eager excitement. He was stunned, at first, but Touya recovered quickly. Biting back a smirk, he leaned into the gesture, slinging an arm around your hip, tilting your head back and doing whatever he could to bring you close, to keep you close, just like he’d been dying to for months, now. He could feel you stifle a laugh, moving to pull away, but Touya only drifted to your neck, nipping at the edge of your jaw before he found your jugular, aiming for the sensitive area just above it. You only chuckled, blunt nails running over his scalp. “And I thought I was the needy one,” You chided, half-hearted pushing at his chest. “It’s cold out here, Todoroki. At least take me inside first.” 

Right. Of course. He got carried away.

He almost forgot why you were actually here.

He didn’t let you go. He didn’t want to, so he didn’t bother trying, pulling you over the center console in one swift motion, leaving you in his lap, his face buried in the crook of your shoulder and an arm under your thighs, supporting your weight as he jerkily kicked open the door, letting you duck your head and giggle, always giggling, always trying to pretend to be meek and harmless and innocent. He wondered if you’d stop, eventually, if you’d drop the act once he decided both of you should show your true colors. He’d be lying if he said he hated the idea of choking it out of you. 

The front door wasn’t locked. He didn’t bother, not with his profession, not when he knew he’d be coming home with you, tonight. If you noticed, you didn’t seem to mind, focusing on locking your ankles behind his back, on swallowing down that small, pained groan as he slammed your back into the nearest wall of his darkened villa just a little too hard, pretending not to notice as your smile wavered in the minimal light. “I don’t think this counts as protecting the--” 

You were cut off by a loud thud, metallic and hollow, like someone hitting drywall with a baseball bat. You paused, for a second, your gaze flickering to the space behind him, but he was quick to kiss your cheek, to bring your attention back to where it should be, on him. “‘s just my roommate,” He mumbled, hoping you’d be too used to the excuse to linger on it. “Don’t pay it too much mind. He’s probably just fucking around.” 

This time, your smile dropped completely. “The Hero Commission... lets you have a roommate?” 

He caught his mistake a second too late. He opened his mouth, ready to explain, but another noise interrupted him, a rattling this time, followed by another deafening, irritating thud. He grit his teeth, but you only stiffened, your next shove to his chest a little more insistent than the last. “He might be hurt,” You started, the concern in your voice more genuine than it’d been all night. “We should check on him, that sounds--” 

“It’ll be fine.” He spoke a little too quickly, a little too aggressively. Instantly, your eyes widened, your entire body going tense against his, and Touya had to fight not to lose his composure completely. It was too soon. It was too early. He wanted to be sweet. He didn’t want to be mean, not with you. “Just ignore it, sweetheart, it’s not important. You’re here for me, right? The brat shouldn’t--” 

It was a slip-up. A petname so common, he hardly noticed he’d said it until you were scrambling, writhing, digging your nails into his biceps deep enough to break the skin, forcing him to let you go out reflex alone. You barely managed to catch yourself, but you stayed on your feet, shoving past Touya while he was still hissing out curses, clutching at bleeding wounds and broken scars. There was another thud, and you moved to sprint in the direction it’d come from, but he was a Hero, he was trained for this. You were on the ground before you could take a step, Touya straddling your stomach, his hands around your neck. He didn’t squeeze, though, he didn’t want to strangle you. He was going to be patient. This was going to be different. “Just behave,” He growled, fighting to hold onto the last threads of his restraint. “It’s not important. I’m important, and that’s all you have to care about. That’s all you’re ever going to care about, from now on.”

You didn’t hesitate. As soon as he finished, you were jerking forward, your forehead colliding with his and forcing a ragged scream from both of you. He’d give you credit for that. Villains and Heroes fought with quirks, specialized weapons, tactics and strategies and purpose. This was blunt. This was thoughtless. It was impulsive, and it was stupid, and it worked, letting you push him away as he recoiled, suddenly too focused on his pounding skull to care about what you might find. It wouldn’t matter, anyway. None of your little tantrums would.

He’d find you, eventually. After that, the results would be the same.

That might’ve been why Touya took his time, pushing himself to his feet slowly, following the sound of your footsteps before they abruptly stopped. He tried not to be bothered by it, even if there was a familiar pang of anxiety when he saw you, your mouth agape and your body slack, leaning against a door that should not be open. He might’ve walked a little faster, out of habit, but if you noticed him, you were too distracted to care. He couldn’t blame you. Not when he knew what you were looking at. 

He got a little carried away, with the girls’ room. Pale pink paint coated on every surface, fairy-lights strung along the ceiling, and a white, circular rug, fluffy and stainless and just small enough to stop before it reached the three cots, settled along each of the walls, each with its own frilly sheets and plush mattress and bare, metallic frame, something Touya might’ve considered swapping out if their opponents were a little more grateful. Two were empty, the first a spare if he needed room for a future ‘guest’ and the second a reminder to check on the bitch in his basement, and the third was on its side. That was what you were focusing on, what he couldn’t seem to pull you away from as he slotted himself against your back, wrapping an arm loosely around your waist. 

That, and the girl sitting in front of it, a ball-gag stuffed in her mouth and a collar around her neck, thick and leathery and attached to a chain, keeping her tethered to the nearest wall. There were a few noticeable dents in the plaster around her bracket, but Touya had better things to worry about. 

There was a garbled scream, something that might’ve been a warning, but Touya silenced her off with a glare sharp enough cut glass. “Shut it,” He barked, all pretense of patience gone. “Shut up, or you’re going to spend the next week in a muzzle. I’ll deal with you later.”

“You kidnapped her.” At least you waited your turn, even if the delay did little too soften the disgust in your voice. “You’re a monster. You’re supposed to be--” 

“A hero?” You tried to shove him away, to pry him off of you, but he only tightened his grip. “And you’re supposed to be an innocent civilian, aren’t you? Something soft and appreciative I can feel good about helping, fuck, and forget about the next day, right?” 

“Don’t try to--” 

“Where do you keep the bottle, sweetheart?” Now, it was your turn to go tense, to know he saw something he shouldn’t have seen. “Don’t lie to me. It won’t be pretty, if we start off this relationship on a bad foot.” 

You hesitated, for a moment. He saw your swallow, watched your eyes dart towards anything that could’ve been considered a weapon, but his fingers slipped under your shirt and you bowed your head, giving in at the slightest threat of something worse. He liked that about you. Such a simple thing, too afraid of pain to take the risk. “My jacket. There are pockets on the inside - it’s on the right.” 

He’d give you credit. It looked realistic, if nothing else, a translucent orange bottle with a white lid, the label scratched off in a way that could’ve been mistaken for nervous fidgeting, if Touya didn’t know better. With one hand, he popped off the lid, barely glancing at the unmarked pills inside before letting out a pleased hum. 

Sedatives. Not lethal, but effective. The type you could get from any low-ranking Villain with a surplus supply and a greater need for clients than most. 

The type that could be slipped into wine glasses, mixed into water. The type that’d keep your trusting, unsuspecting host nice and unconscious while you helped yourself to anything that wasn’t nailed down. While you robbed him blind, stowed yourself away in another cheap motel room two towns over, and scouted for the next poor guy who’d be too embarrassed to say anything.

Touya couldn’t help himself. He laughed, loudly and shamelessly, watching as you withered, glaring at the tiled floor. He couldn’t tell if it was fear of loathing, half-suspended terror or that deep, ingrained hatred any good predator should feel when it’s caught in a trap, but your voice couldn’t have made it more clear. “What’s your plan?” You spat, all humiliation, all spirited, adorable anger. His grin widened, the lasting tension in his shoulders dissolving, but if you noticed how much he enjoyed your little show, you didn’t bother trying to keep your mouth shut. “Arrest me? Hand me over to the police and let me tell them all about your creepy, fucked-up dollhouse?” You never looked up. You never so much as tried to meet his eyes, let alone glance at the ‘victim’ you’d been so intent on saving a few minutes ago. “Let me go. You don’t have another choice, unless you’re willing to get your hands dirty.” 

“Oh, don’t worry about that, I’m not gonna kill you.” It wasn’t a lie, but you didn’t seem to believe him, going rigid as his lips brushed against the nape of your neck. It was a fleeting gesture, but he didn’t let himself linger. He’d have plenty of time for that once he got you used to your new role, under his care. Once you got used to him. “I’m not gonna hand you over, either. That’d just be a waste.”

He might’ve been a little mean, after all. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have given you so much time to answer, so much time to tremble. At least you didn’t try to get away, this time. You were already learning. “I… I don’t--” 

“I’m going to take care of you, angel. Just like I’m taking care of her.”

There was a moment of stillness, a small, ragged sob, but Touya couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty. He couldn’t bring himself to feel anything but satisfied. 

Because Todoroki Touya had a problem. Because he was awful and hungry and greedy, and he had a problem.

And he wasn’t sure he wanted to fix it.

[rk1kheadcanons]

Markus ,trying to flirt with Connor: are you a private investigator? Would you like to investigate my privates? 😘

The thing is, I 100% think that Markus would manage to make bad pick-up lines sexy somehow which goes against all known laws of the nature of bad pick-up lines. And I think that the idea of him managing to fluster Connor with some of the very worst of the worst while being a total dork about it is 10/10 a top-quality thought to ponder so here we go:

-

Connor's eyes were fixed on the tablet in front of him. And they were trying very very hard to stay fixed on only the tablet in front of him and not on the figure of the RK200 just behind it who was stretching himself languidly across Connors desk, vying for the RK800s attention.

"What are you doing now?"

Connor rolled his eyes.

"That's the fifth time you've asked me that question now in the past fifteen minutes. I'm working"

Markus propped up an elbow on the polished wood, resting his head on his hand and fixing the RK800 with a heavy-lidded stare and a raised brow. Usually, their positions were reversed in these situations - with Markus' workload being the heavier of the two - but since Connor had been wrapped up in a high profile case for the past two weeks Markus was enjoying his opportunity to finally get to be the lech and the menace in their relationship.

"Working on what?"

The RK200 asked with faux innocence and an unsubtle flex of his bicep.

Connor just about suppressed a smirk and another eye roll.

"My private investigations case. As you well know."

He finally looked up to meet his partner's gaze as he heard Markus shuffle across the table to lean in closer to him with mischief in his eyes.

"So you're a private investigator huh? Would you like to investigate my privates?"

Connor stared into the deviant leader's mismatched eyes for a beat, and then for another, and then for one beat more before the serious gaze he had been leveling at his partner a second ago shattered as he dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"Please" He managed to choke out between begrudging laughs "please never use that line on me again"

Markus only seemed to take Connors breaking as a win and edged himself closer again with a smirk so that he was now fully seated on the desk and leering towards Connor where he sat in his office chair.

"You know, maybe if you'd have just been a bit faster with your paperwork I wouldn't have had to resort to such drastic measures in the first place. Unlike you I myself am on top of things, wouldn't you like to be one of those things?"

Connor made an aborted motion that looked like he was about to hide his face in his hands before he reached out to gently push Markus' away from him instead with another stifled giggle.

"Stop" He whined, dragging out the "o" sound.

"But you're the last thing I have on my To-Do list today"

This time Connor didn't protest as Markus began to inch his way closer again.

"How many more of these have you got up your sleeve huh?" The RK800 inquired with a smile.

"Oh, a countless number" He responded, reaching out a hand to card down Connors's cheek. "I can't help it, you inspire me. Although I don't understand what a nice android like you is doing in a dirty mind like mine."

The RK800 caught the hand stroking across this hairline and used Markus' palm instead of his own to bury his face in to stifle another round of giggles.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" Markus spoke over Connor's laughter in a tone that implied that he wasn't sorry at all "I just...I tried to distract myself while you were working ok? but it's difficult. I tried to paint for a bit but I couldn't get into it you know? So then I thought...maybe I could get into you instead?"

Connor now used the palm he'd been burying his face in to bang his forehead against in mock exasperation.

"Markus!"

"Okay! Okay! I'm done now. You want to sit and file paperwork instead? be my guest but...how about a joke first? Just one little one before you go back to work? a tiny one?"

Connor leaned forward with both elbows on the table as he stared into his partner's eyes with fondness and a smirk.

"Alright, I'll humour you. Shoot."

Markus' eyes lit up as he inched even further across the varnished wood table until he could lean down close enough to Connors face so that the RK800 was able to feel the breath from each inhale ghosting across his mouth. Markus met the eyes of the other with the piercing, unwavering glare that he knew for a fact drove the RK800 crazy, paused for dramatic effect without breaking eye contact, and then broke the silence with a very serious sounding:

"Knock Knock"

Connor wheezed a small laugh at the absurdity before responding.

"Who's there?"

"When, where"

A delicate eyebrow arched curiously on Connors face as he tried to puzzle out which direction the other was going with this before he responded.

"When, where, who?"

Markus was also struggling to keep his composure at this point, only just managing to rearrange a snort of laughter into an - what he hoped was enticing - smirk as he grabbed the knot of Connors tie to pull him in so their lips were only a handful of millimeters apart.

"Right now, this desk, you and me."

Connors laughter caught in his throat in a strangled exhale from the proximity and the tone that Markus had dropped the - absurdly cheesy - punch line on him with. Connor knew that Markus knew that that voice drove him absolutely insane. But now was not the time. He had work to do, he had planned to finish this report by the evening, he was busy he-

Connors thoughts were interrupted by Markus quirking his lips up just so and every excuse that had been flooding the younger androids mind drained away in an instant.

Instead, he reached a hand over beside the RK200 to swipe the tablet and his folders off the desk and into the drawer before clamouring up onto the desk where his partner was perched and swinging a leg over so that he was straddling the other, crashing their lips together and pushing Markus' shoulders down onto the wood.

"Fine, fine you win but if I hear one more pick up line or pun while I'm riding you I'm leaving you high and dry and going back to my paperwork"

This finally elicited a chuckle from the older android who reached his arms up and behind his head as a pillow before fixing Connor with another gaze that he knew would work wonders on the other.

"We'll see about that..."

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

You Can’t Get Better Than A Thrombey

Summary- 4.7 Ransom x You. You and Ransom have a good thing going. Friends with benefits and nothing more. But Ransom’s selfish ways end up ruining it, and you are done. Gone. You moved on with your life. Until one traveling night that brings you back to the city you had left behind, and of course Ransom Drysdale shows up. Written for @imanuglywombat​ Wombat’s Ugly 4k Challenge. 

Warnings- This fic has a spousal cheating element to it. Please do not read if that bothers you. Other warnings, Smut, Male receiving Oral and Swears. 

A/N- Thank you @imanuglywombat​ for the wonderful challenge! It was so much fun. Congratulations on your follower count babes. 

A/N Two- Moodboard Wombat made is at the very bottom of the fic, and the lyrics used for second prompt, Good Luck by Basement Jaxx will be in italiacs through the fic. 

A/N three- if just occurred to me that the whole "you cant get better then a thrombey" came from @jtargaryen18 series Naughty Ransom Holiday Tales, which her Ransom Drysdale series is top tier and absolutely should go read. It's one of my favorites. Probably why the line got stuck in my head.

“Come on Baby, just one more.” Ransom hissed against your ear, his tongue swiping over the shell of your ear while tightening his hold on your throat, your sobs coming out half strangled from needing to come on his cock that he kept pounding into you. Feet planted on the plush hotel carpet, his thrusts into your cunt had you gasping with need while your channel fluttered around his cock. He grasped your hand that was currently buried in his hair and wrenched your hand down to press against your stomach. “Feel that Kitten, how I’m rearranging your guts and fucking you useless for anyone else?” 

Your head nodded, as much as he allowed with the hold on your throat, causing his fingers to flex, closing around your throat tighter till you were seeing sparks blossom in your sight and that's when you couldn't hold back anymore. Behind you, Ransom's sweaty chest clung like wrap to your back, vibrating as he grunted against your shoulder. You ended up flooding his cock, gushing on your thighs and slicking against his as he pounded you harder now, grabbing your hips and rutting you now to reach his end. Leaving your limp body to be rag-dolled in his lap till he shot himself inside of you to paint your walls, and you both fell back against the ruined California King bed, the sheets sex sweat stained from earlier. 

Gasping breaths and heaving chests were the only sound in the overheated room, and you eased off him, your back peeling away to roll next to him with a groan. You peeked at him from where you had buried your head against the crook of your arm, and admired the flushed cheeks, and still tensing tendons in his neck, his hair was all disheveled and out of its usual place from where he always had it groomed back. “Mmh, what are you staring at?” He questioned before turning to look at you, his ridiculously long lashes were swept against his cheek for half a second before cold crystal cerulean’s looked at you inquiring. 

“I'm looking at your post orgasm face.” You respond, and prop a hand under your head once you turn to your side. “It's a good look on you Ransom, one of your better ones.” 

He arched a brow as he reached over, tracing the curve of your breast before tugging on a still sensitive nipple to make you gasp, and shove your hand against his shoulder making him smirk in his signature way. “Fucking glad you approve, maybe we should do this more often.” 

“Well next time you're in the city, give me a call.” You say swinging up to sit on the edge of the bed, looking around at your discarded clothing. 

“And where the fuck you going?” He tugged you back to tumble into the bed, rolling over you so you could feel his thighs wedge yours apart and his hips drop into place. You fold your arms across your chest and huff, looking up at him as he braced himself above you, tendrils of sweaty hair falling over his forehead. 

“You can't be serious Ransom, again? I have to go back to my apartment. I have a work meeting tomorrow with my bosses.” You state matter of fact. “Besides, whatever happened to that no sleeping over rule?” 

“Who says I'm letting you sleep? I barely get to come to the city anyways.” He lowered over you, pressing his soft pillowed lips in all your weakest spots on your shoulder and neck, a hand sliding between your thighs and into slick folds. Fuck this man, your mind thought till it went blank again in the sensation of his fingers so expertly playing between your petals that you already were stretching your thighs wider for him. “I haven't thoroughly fucked you yet.” 

“God I hate you.” You moaned out as you felt your resolve fluttering into his favor, the metal of his pinkie rubbed against your clit and a long finger stretched you open once more. 

“Well this sure isn't love Kitten, cause I'm about to destroy you. Admit it Y/N, you haven't had anything better than me.” He expertly gave you those long fingered strokes that had you keening his name, losing your entire resolve. 

“That's my girl…” He praised above you while you grabbed his biceps and started to climb to the heavens all over again.

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A knock on the door disturbed your sleep. You stirred in confusion against the overly soft pillow that wasn't at all familiar. You lifted your head in confusion, looking around when another knock came, and you heard Ransom yell from the bathroom, snapping it open. “Fuck, will be right there.” 

You clutched the sheet and sat up, rubbing at your eyes while he brought in a cart with covered trays. “I didn't think you would ever get up Y/N.” He said while wheeling it to a table, and it occurred to you that the sun was awful bright. 

“Oh shit, Ransom, what time is it?” You shoot across the bed, looking desperately for your cell phone, and he gives a shrug while lifting the cover off one tray. 

“Hell if I know… 10? 11?” he says while grabbing a piece of toast and biting the corner while you are moving aside pillows trying to find your phone. 

“Ransom!” You snagged your phone from under a pillow, and checked the notifications. Closing your eyes in frustration. “It's more like 1 in the afternoon, and I was supposed to have a meeting at 10. I set my alarm.” 

Ransom strode over to you as you were typing out a message to your office hurriedly. “Oh, yea I might have silenced it this morning. The fucking thing wouldn’t stop chirping.” 

Your eyes lifted from your screen and said with utmost disbelief. “You… silenced it?”

“It was so fucking early and woke me up Y/N.” Like you had inconvenienced him. “I don’t know why you set the fucking thing anyways.” He said, and you felt rage well up in your chest, pushing up out of the bed, and grabbed at your clothes. 

“You did it this time Ransom. You are a fuck buddy, and yet you take the whole thing quite literally don’t you.” You grab at your panties, shoving them on and then snatch your bra. “Fucked me over on the most important meeting of my life, I should have known better then to answer your fucking text.” You are ranting to yourself, searching for your skirt. 

Ransom seems confused at your words, starting to follow you around. “You’re mad because of that job? I’ve told you a hundred times to come on as Harlan's assistant. He’s been looking for years and you would be perfect. Probably pay you better and you can come to my place more often.” His tone turned cocky while saying this, his gift to you apparently. 

You pushed past Ransom without even saying anything, grabbing your shirt and shoving it over your head. “You sold me down the river now Ransom.” You grab at your heels and slip them on while reading the message on your phone sent back from your office. Basically telling you to get your ass in because the boss wanted to see you. Breathing out in defeat. “I hope you’re feeling happy now.” You drop it in your bag while he gives an exaggerated eye roll at you. 

“Come on Y/N, It's not the end of the world.” He grasped your arm to stop you storming out, and you hiss at him. 

“You don't get it Ransom do you, I worked hard for this, my whole fucking life. And I let you ruin it for me. I should be mad at you but it would be such a waste  of energy on you. So I’m mad at myself more.” You look him up and down while wrenching your arm out of his grasp, and look up at him, committing him to memory, this exact expression of his. Signature sneer crossing his face that edged on his face with a smirk like he would fix this problem with the easiest way possible. It might have worked with another woman, one who thought that he ‘Loved Her’ but you were not fooled, there was no love between you. This was a way to scratch an itch. One that you needed to break away from. Now that the damage was done. 

“We’re all done Ransom, I can’t keep doing this shit anymore with you. The consequences outweigh the benefits of sleeping with you.” You started towards the door and you felt him spin you around, pressing you against the door. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Kitten?” He sneered down at you, and when you tried to push him away, he slammed you back into the door with a dull thud. “You don't throw away a good thing Sweetheart.” 

You catch your breath, the hard masculine body crushing against you was all too familiar, and up to his expression that looked like he had won you over. Now you always have a sneer in your smile Ransom, you thought to yourself, thinking you have actual control over me. Your hands planted against his chest, and his gaze darkened as you made him back away from you with resolve. “But wake up, Baby, You’re so totally deluded… I'm throwing away this good thing right now.” Turning away, you were quick to open the door and look over your shoulder. “Don’t bother fucking calling me anymore.” 

With a quick snap out the door, as you walked down the five star hotel hallway, you heard Ransom rip open the door and poke his head out. “Don't worry about me calling you Kitten, not like you are the only lay I can get in this town.” 

You didn't even bother answering as you stepped on the elevator. Your last sight of him was striding towards the elevator doors as they shut, staring back at him coldly as he shouted your name and the doors blocked him from you, now your reflection staring coldly back at you in the steel doors as the elevator brought you to the lobby. 

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That would be the last time you saw him in a couple years. You ended up losing your job that day, and decided that it wasn't just Ransom you needed to change in your life, but all of it. You put out resumes all over New England and found someone to take over the lease to your apartment. Within a couple months from that night, you were moving out of the city and to a small suburb, house, lawn and everything. You went to work as a legal aide at a small law firm. Dates happened here and there, but you didn't let any of them get close in the way Ransom was. Eventually dating turned into a matter of convenience for you. You settled finally. A lawyer that chased after you for a while, Neil. He made an excellent lover and you two were comfortable, you even loved him in a way. Just like he loved you in a way. He had long hours, and you always traveled. It became a relationship of sorts for you two. 

This evening you sat in the swanky Boston bar, another business trip for the firm, sipping from a second gin and tonic while scanning the room when you saw a sight you never thought you would see again. 

One Ransom Drysdale came in with some slim waisted woman clinging to him, chatting away but you could tell just from the way he scanned the room that he wasn't even paying attention to her. When his gaze fell on you, his brows arched in surprise, but then they darkened and he whispered to his companion. When she split away towards a table, he strode over to you sitting at the bar. 

“Never thought I would see you slumming in this part of town again.” He said slowly while waving the bartender over. “You look good Y/N.” He said in a matter of fact tone, and you raked a gaze over him. In the two years you hadn’t seen him, he barely changed. Still wore the high end clothes, and that camel colored coat that was so soft to the touch, that pinkie ring shone just a bit in the low light. “Another gin and tonic for her to.” in which your drink was switched out with a fresh one. 

“Business Hugh.” You snipped out, catching him scowl at mention of his name. How you got a thrill knowing how much he hated it. “And you don't look bad yourself. Still living that trust fund life, it treats you good.” You thanked the bartender and sipped from the much stronger gin and tonic now, feeling the tendrils of heat curl in your veins from the alcohol. 

“Well I will have you know not entirely a trust fund life now.” He remarked your words back to you while he leaned in closer, his hand sliding along your thigh in that all too familiar way of his. “I took over part of Blood Like Wine just to piss Walt off. But I enjoy it, and have been doing some writing myself with Harlan’s help.” 

Your eyes widened in surprise, tilting your head towards him. “You actually got serious in life? I’m impressed.” 

Ransom shrugged while twirling his glass, the bits of ice clinking in the glass. “Got bored, needed something to do Y/N.” 

You laughed hearing him, and glanced over your shoulder. “Isn’t your date waiting on your Ransom?” 

He looked over his shoulder at the woman he had come in with, shaking his head. “Nah, she will be fine. See, she already is eyeing up someone else.” He stated, watching as his previous date scooted over, letting someone sit in the booth with her. Ransom turned back to you and smirked, settling in comfortably next to you. “Guess we actually get to catch up.” You didn't send him away, in fact you two fell back into easy conversation talking about the past two years. The evening turned to night, and the bartender gave you two the cut off. Before you could excuse yourself to leave, Ransom reached out and caught your wrist to keep you from getting up.

 “Looks like I'm free tonight, what do you say… one more for old times sake?” 

You pondered his offer, the last swallow of gin and tonic was probably that last push as you glanced at your old lover. His eyes showed promise that it would be good, and you knew full well that he had every right to be cocky. Setting your glass down, you nod. 

“Old times sake… but this is it Drysdale.” 

You two escaped the bar, Ransom knowing the streets like the back of his hand. It was like the old days when you two messed around, familiar in the sense you knew that you two would hit the subway. You hated riding in the beamer around the city, and he was well aware of it. Teasing looks and touches were shared on the subway, once in a while a dirty kiss before splitting apart. “Fuck you taste good Kitten.” He muttered your old nickname against your neck as he sucked a mark against your pulse. “So addictive.” You hide a grin in against his shoulder hearing him. 

The thing that ended up surprising you was when Ransom didn't pull you to one of your regular meetup Hotels, but an actual apartment building. “What is this?” You stalled as he hit the numbers in the pad on the side of the building to be let in. 

“I moved into the city. Made more sense then having to travel all the fucking time.” Pulling you into the building and steering you to the elevator, he crowded into you once the doors shut on you two. Your head tilted back to let him skim those lips over your pulse once more and tug your ear between sharp teeth, needy fingers bunching under your sweater, and trailing fire against your skin till his touch turned into a press of fingertips biting into your curves. Your hands fisted in his cashmere sweater, brushing your face against the hard planes of his jawline, sighing in such a needy way, its been so fucking long since you’ve felt this. Felt that physical urge to just get lost in the most primal of ways. 

You two crashed into the apartment, tugging at each others clothes and stumbling into the walls, pushing back and forth till you shoved Ransom hard against the hallway wall, rolling into him with a clash of teeth and hisses when his hand fist in your hair, pulling you away to march you two closer to the bedroom, his enormous body crowding you where he wanted you. “Come on Kitten, remind me how good that mouth was again.” 

You didn't hesitate to drop to your knees on the hardwood floor and your hands twisted in his trousers to tug at the button and zipper, yanking them down his legs till he stepped from them.  “Open.” Ransom demanded while wrapping his hand around his hard cock and jerked it while you looked up at him with a begging expression, you wanted it, him. You tongue fell out to accept his offering. Perhaps you should have felt shame at your desperate actions, at how easily you turned into a whore for Ransom. You had been in a committed relationship with Neil for six months, and here you were breaking it all for a man you sworn yourself from. Ransom was not gentle about taking you apart either, which you had craved his demanding nature the past two years. His cock pressed past your lips into your wet heat, making you widen around him till he hit the back of your throat making you sputter. You tried to pull away instinctively but he held you there for a few seconds till you relaxed. “Thatta girl Kitten.” Ransom praised and his hips started to thrust into your mouth. 

“Fuck I missed seeing you like this.” He grunted as he moved your head back and forth, his hands digging into your scalp and fucked into your mouth. You clenched your thighs underneath yourself, wanting to hide that desire to grind into anything for the friction, completely growing wet with the way he just fucked your mouth how he wanted. You slurped on his cock, hollowing your cheeks to tighten around him, fluttering your tongue against that thick vein while he pressed your mouth to take more, and your nose ended up against the tight dark pubic curls, drool dripped down your chin to leave you ruined looking. 

“Grinding yourself against your thigh Slut, I can see those hips moving.” He yanked you off his cock, your tongue darting to kitten lick the red tip while looking up at him as your hands rubbed up and down his muscular thighs while he jerked himself. Seeing he was close you tipped back further as his hold allowed, whining. 

“Yes I am Ransom, fuck you for making me this way.” You whined out as you shifted your hips, rubbing your cunt as hard as possible against the back of your foreleg, wanting to get that fulfillment. 

He squeezed himself slightly to keep from cumming and dragged you back to your feet, snapping a hand against your ass to get you moving “Then let's take care of that Kitten.”  Your fingers dipped into your waistband of your panties shimming them down while Ransom grabbed palmfuls of your ass and ground his cock between your cheeks. “I got to get inside you…” He panted into the curve of your neck and as soon as you reached the bedroom, he pressed you against the dresser just inside the door. Pulling your ass out and his cock pressed between slick folds, pushing himself into you, both of you sighed in relief at the familiar sensation. You stretched around him till you were full of him, and him feeling you wrapped around him so tight, your cunt seemed to swallow him. 

He took you from behind, rattling the dresser with each pounding thrust, his hands digging permanent marks into your hips in a ruthless way. A way you had missed, hard demanding ruts, banging your hips into the hardwood of the dresser and your hands tried finding purchase against the wood when he angled and found that sweet spot that only he seemed to be able to find. Making you keen his name and he snapped his teeth, clenching his jaw till the tendons of his neck strained with the power he was slamming into you. 

“That was all it took to flood my cock, Kitten, you must be needy.” 

You sagged against the dresser but he wasn't over with you yet, it had been years since he had you with him. Man handling you to the bed, you went to your back and he fell over you. Snapping kisses against the sensitive part of your chest to the tops of your breasts, his hand dragged your bra down, the bands straining and lifting your chest off the bed while you dug your hands into his hair, pulling it hard enough for him to moan into your skin and his teeth sink into the top of your breast. 

“Ransom, no more marks.” You tried to stop him but he muttered something between the curves, drawing a swipe till he got to your nipple, latching on and pulling on it for it to swell. 

“Yea yea, got a boyfriend you can’t let see.” He said in a joking manner as a hand moved underneath you to release your bra, and he shifted your hips to settle underneath him. You slipped your hands along his chest, and curled around his neck, shrugging a shoulder. 

“Perhaps, just don't mark me up.” you snapped, and he smothered you again, lip biting kisses as he thrust into you, your legs wrapping around his slender hips, and pulling him in closer. 

As his hips rocked into you, slower than before dragging himself back and forth, he lifted to his elbows, looking down at you as you bit your lip, pressing your head back. “What's his name?” 

Your eyes spring open as your fingers dig into his back. “W-what Ransom?” 

He pressed forward, pinning you into the mattress while grinding into you. “His fucking name Kitten, what is it?” This time when you look up at him, you can see his mouth set in a thin line, and ground himself into you, making you clench around him. 

“Why does it matter?” your nails loosen slightly and drag down his back. “You never cared before.”  

Ransom then blessed you with that signature smirk, and moved his hand to your throat to tighten, and tighten enough to make you gasp out, the move making you flutter around him. “Because Kitten.” His mouth lowered over yours, teeth sinking into your lip and tongue filling your mouth and stealing the last air from your lungs. “I know you, you will never be satisfied with settling down Y/N. It's not in you. These past two years, have you actually been satisfied like this.” 

“A lot changes in those two years Ransom.” You gasped into his mouth, fighting him back now after his words, working your hips back to meet him with each thrust. “Oh better to be like you? Just fucking around. You’ll end up old and lonely without someone in your life.” Your tongue lapped at the roof of his mouth and your eyes rolled up feeling him splitting you apart. 

“Come on Kitten, you're not telling me you didn't miss this? Us? You are all I have ever needed, you know that.” Ransom demanded, and you shuddered under him, cumming just then, his hand around your neck tightened all that much further while he chased his own ending this time. Pushing you up the bed till you both were buried in the pillows. Soon you felt him paint your walls, burying himself into you till his body crushed yours down into the mattress, your thighs quivering around his waist and you were panting against his shoulder, trying to catch your breath. He lifted his head to look down at you, a brow arched waiting for an answer. “So?” 

Your fingers slid up his back and over his shoulders, staring back up at him, wrinkling your nose at him. “Why do you have to make this anything more then a good one last time fuck?” You pushed on his shoulders to turn him to his back and straddled him, covering his mouth. “Just shut the fuck up, okay?” 

Ransom's teeth sank into your palm, while grasping your hips and lifting you to sink you onto him. 

“Make me Kitten.” he hissed at you in challenge. 

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It was early morning when you both were tangled around each other, the sheets pushed off the bed, and you were using Ransom more as your blanket, soaking in that post sex haze that made you all limp. He was half snoring in your hair and you were staring at the ceiling. You closed your eyes with shame and disgust with yourself, since you were going to have to make some lame excuse to Neil about why you didn't answer your phone. As well as why you weren't at your hotel last night. 

“I can hear you thinking” Ransom groaned from above you, and you tilted your head up to see an early morning beard starting to prickle his skin, and you shifted to pull back, giving a bit of space while resettling yourself to face him properly. 

“You asked me last night if there was someone. There is Ransom… we've been dating just about six months. And he’s a good person, a decent man.” 

He rubbed at his face to open his eyes and be able to focus on you, still sleep laced as he spoke once more. “And Y/N? Why are you worried? It's not like we haven’t done this plenty of times, dating someone or not.” 

You worried your lip, sighing with a shake of your head. “That hasn't been me since I moved, I left it all behind when I left Boston. But then you come right back, and I’m stupid enough to fuck around with you again. Am I ever going to get you out of my system?” 

That made him smirk, and lean into you, kissing you dirty so early in the morning. “Now you're making yourself sound like one of those crazy bitches on the ID channel. Should I be worried about you?” 

You snorted against his kiss, pressing him against his chest to make him fall back into his spot in the bed. “If you didn’t get a bullet in your head already after the last time, you should know you're safe.” 

His arm circled around your waist, his thumb sweeping back and forth across the small of your back. “I'm glad I’m forgiven for last time Y/N. And this changes nothing that you do with whatever his name is.” 

You reached forward and let your fingers trail along the planes of his pecs, feeling guilty, but not regretting it, not really. Ransom had always fulfilled something in you that no one else ever was able to. 

“Yea I guess you're forgiven, although it was still a shitty thing to do. Come on, even you have to admit that Ransom. And his name is Neil.” You pushed to hear him admit he was in the wrong, and he rolled his eyes at you, sliding his hand to grasp an ass cheek and squeeze it in his palm.

“Did I just have to say that last time for you to forgive me Kitten? Cause fuck, two years is a long time.” 

You chuckle and shake your head. “No, I fucking hated you back then. I would have still left, I’m just now tolerating you.” You pulled back and moved to sit up at the edge of the bed. “And now I gotta call Neil with some lie about where I was.” 

Ransom moved to the other side, reaching for his boxers to slip on. “Just tell him you met up with an old friend Y/N.” 

You pushed off from the bed and tugged the first shirt you found, Ransom's sweater while leaving the bedroom to talk to Neil. With luck, he didn't answer, and you just left a message to call you back and that you were safe, that you had met up with some old girlfriends. Glancing around, it occurred to you that Ransom really did live here, not just stay here on occasion. There was mail on the counter, books and manuscripts on the coffee table in the living room, and coats hanging near the door, an abandoned dirty coffee mug near the sink. You started to pick up the clothing you two had scattered through the apartment when Ransom came out, watching you for a moment while leaning against the wall. 

“Reach the boyfriend?” He said matter of fact, which you straightened, and glanced back at him while folding some clothes and shaking your head. 

“No, but I should probably get ready to go, I'm supposed to be driving home today.” you pluck at his sweater you're wearing and he strides across the room, his fingers sliding under your chin to lift your gaze back up. 

“You know Kitten we will never really be done with each other.” He said, tilting his head. “Week from now, five years down the road, it doesn't matter when it happens again. So lose the guilt, it's not good for you. It's just the way it is.” 

He was right, you knew he was right and part of you hated him for the fact that he was right. “After all, you don't get anything better than a Thrombey, Kitten.” 

Fuck this man for having this hold on you.

Moodboard Prompt- The City