#all the stars that came together and aligned for them;;;;;

[hopkei]

bro apparently its the 6th anniversary of yusei and sota joining fantastics 😭😭❤️❤️

six years...... with the best boys.......🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

thank you for making fantastics complete;;;;;;;;;

[hwashotcheeto]

𝑽𝑰𝑷 𝑨𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔

Part Two: Premium Access

Park Seonghwa X afab!gn!reader

Summary: You finally get railed backstage by your boyfriend while he's still in his stage persona.

WC: 2.3k

CW: Smut, filthy ass smut, fluffy aftercare, no gendered names are used on the reader

Smut warnings: Kissing, dirty talk, mild degradation, backstage sex, spit play, oral sex, (idol receiving) face fucking. (reader receiving), hair pulling (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), unprotected PIV sex, breast play (reader receiving) orgasms for both

Hwa uses names on reader (Slut, baby, jagi, fucktoy, gorgeous)

AN: Ever since I saw the pictures and videos from Towards the Light D-1, I wanted SO BAD to write a one shot about it (I'm so weak for this man, oh my fucking God-)

@shinestarhwaa made a fic about this already (this one) so please go read it, it's amazing 💜

Since you'd started dating Seonghwa, you'd wanted him to rail you while he was still in his stage persona.

And honestly, who wouldn't?

He turned into a creature of intensity, a force of nature.

A demon.

And yet, in all your time together, you'd never gotten the chance. Usually, Seonghwa and his members were wiped out after a show, so most times, it wouldn't happen regardless.

Aside from that, you nor the members could convince the staff to let you or anyone else backstage. It was an understandable obstacle, but still annoying.

Until tonight.

Somehow, the stars aligned, and you were finally given VIP access to see your boyfriend and his members backstage.

You were backstage for the entire performance, and fuck, you were floored.

The boys had kept everything secret from you, you didn't know anything about their performance. So seeing Seonghwa's dance was an unbelievable surprise.

And a pleasant one at that. One that had you soaked through to your pants.

The whole concert, you were of course, proud of your boyfriend and the other members, seeing them clearly enjoy being performers, and do it really fucking well.

But you were also incredibly fucking horny for your boyfriend.

The concert felt like it was years instead of hours. Years until your boyfriend came backstage, panting heavily, drenched in sweat, with that goddamn top, whatever it’s called.

Seonghwa had never looked hotter.

He pulled out his ear monitors, looking around the backstage area, until he finally found you by the dressing rooms. His eyes zeroed in on you, and shivers ran all over your body as he stalked up to you like a predator cornering his prey.

Seonghwa took you in his arms and kissed you, hard, pushing you against a door. You squeaked in surprise as you reached up to grab onto his arms, but by then, the door was opening, and you two were stumbling inside.

As soon as the door was slammed and locked shut, you were pressed back against it, Seonghwa's hands all over your body. Your hands went up to run all over his chest and stomach. This damn shirt they put him in left little to the imagination.

(Just how I like it)

You ran your hands up to push the short jacket off his shoulders, which he quickly tossed somewhere in the room, and then he pinned your hands against the door above your head.

“Quit moving,” he commanded against your lips, pressing his body up against yours. A whimper leaves your lips before he kisses you again, forcing his tongue in and down your throat.

You squirmed in his grip as you pressed your thighs together. Seonghwa noticed it and groaned as he pulled back. “You don't wanna listen tonight?”

“Hwa, I'm soaked, I-” You tried to protest, but he forced your mouth open, pushing his thumb past your lips and holding your tongue down, spitting down your throat, and forcing your mouth closed after.

“That's not what I asked,” he said lowly, his lips hovering over yours. “Now swallow.”

You were almost embarrassed at how your heart fluttered as you swallowed.

Seonghwa pulled you away from the door and forced you onto your knees as he sat down on the couch. You watched as he wiggled his pants down to his thighs to free his painfully hard cock from the tight confines. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, and you moved closer between his spread legs.

“So eager to have my cock, baby?” Seonghwa asked, slowly pumping himself a few times. “Is that what you thought about while watching me? That you wanted me inside you?”

You nodded enthusiastically with a whimper, shifting around again, trying to relieve some of the pressure between your thighs. Seonghwa couldn't help but smirk as he took his other hand and pulled you close.

“Get to work then.”

You didn't need to be told twice.

You leaned forward and took the first half of him into your mouth, reaching up to pump the half that wasn't. You watched as Seonghwa rolled his eyes back and groaned at the contact, gripping onto your hair. He guided you up and down, having no patience (or time) to go slow today.

“You can take it,” he muttered. “Good sluts can take this. You wanna be good, don't you?”

You nodded and hummed around him, moving your head faster and sucking harder. You pressed your tongue against him and he shivered under you, biting his lip, stifling the groans that were growing more whiny.

What you didn't know is that Seonghwa was thinking about this during the entire performance.

Especially during his solo dance with the chair. Thinking about fucking up into your mouth, imagining how you’d gag when he did, seeing the spit and cum dribble down your chin, the tears on your cheeks.

You choked as he did just as Seonghwa imagined, and your hands flew up to cling onto his thighs. He looked down and smirked, seeing exactly what he wanted to see.

“That’s it, there we go,” he groaned, gripping onto your hair with both hands, shallowly fucking your throat. You kept your head still as he did, making yourself breathe through your nose instead.

Seonghwa slowly worked up to moving his hips faster, pushing deeper, fucking into your throat with reckless abandon. Tears freely fell from your eyes with every choke and gag, your whole neck covered in the mess that spilled down. Seonghwa kept his eyes trained on you, trying to keep quiet.

You were too, and not just because you were choking on his cock.

You were thoroughly soaked, all the way through, and it was beginning to grow painful. You slipped your hand inside your pants to rub your clit, moaning at the relief. But Seonghwa heard it.

He yanked you off his cock and sat up to look at you, and you froze with your hand still down your pants. Seonghwa couldn’t help but smirk.

“Getting yourself off while you choke on my cock? You’re filthy today, jagi.”

He pulled you off the floor and onto his lap, smashing his lips onto yours while his hands fumbled to get your pants and underwear off. You helped him get them off, and he flung them both somewhere in the room, joining his discarded jacket on the floor.

Before they even hit the floor. Seonghwa was running his fingers along your cunt, teasing your entrance. “Oh, look at you,” he murmured against your lips. “You’re fucking soaked. I really did that to you?” He couldn’t help but smirk, his tongue poking out from between his teeth,

“Yes, Hwa, you do. You always do.”

“No, this is more than usual.” He pushed two fingers inside and your body lit up in fire. “I bet you fuck yourself at home when you watch me perform if you’re this wet for me when I’m on stage. Do you, little slut?”

He pumped his fingers inside you with a brutal speed, which was easy with how much slick was pouring out of you. “Do you? Or did you not hear me because you’re already fucked out?”

“I do!” You cried out as he curled his fingers into your spot. “I do, Hwa, you’re so fucking hot!”

“I know I am, jagi.”

Seonghwa pulled his hand away and leaned back, holding his cock up for you. You didn’t need him to tell you what to do.

“Come o-” He cut off with a choke, throwing his head back as you slowly sunk down onto him. He didn’t pick his head back up until you were flush against his lap, making some of his hair fall over his half closed eyes.

“So eager,” he breathed, gripping onto your hips. “Go on then, fuck me like you want to so badly.”

And that’s exactly what you ended up doing.

You gripped onto his shoulders and fucked him like you never had before. The fire in your bones burned hotter than it ever had, dropping down on him hard enough that people outside undoubtedly could hear the sinful noises you made.

Seonghwa rolled his eyes back again, then smiled as he closed his eyes, melting back into the couch. “Fuck, that’s good. Keep it up, jagi.” His fingers dug into your hips, seemingly trying to pull you down even harder. You whimpered as you struggled to fuck him harder despite the burning feeling creeping into your thighs.

The effort you were putting in was already making you tremble. But hearing Seonghwa let out all those groans, watching him smile and bite his lip, his tongue peeking out every now and again, it motivated you to keep going.

It also made you clench down on him.

Seonghwa gasped when he felt it. “God, what are you thinking about, clenching like that?” He looked up at you and you whimpered again, all words leaving you. He knew what he did to you, and he loved it. “Come on, tell me.”

He pulled you into his chest and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, holding you tight against him while he leaned back on the couch and spread his legs to fuck into you instead.

“Tell me what’s in your filthy little brain,” he whispered, his lips pressed up against your ear.

But you couldn’t form words with how he was pounding into you. Hell, you could hardly form a thought. All that came out was whiny babbles and cries as you clung onto him, your nails digging into his skin. You felt Seonghwa shiver as you did.

“Such a good baby,” he muttered. “So good taking my cock, all in your pretty hole, being my good little fucktoy.”

His words made you clench tighter and cry out louder, tears forming in your eyes. Seonghwa choked and whined. His resolve was crumbling, you were breaking him down.

Seonghwa suddenly flipped you and put you down on your back, spreading your legs wide, pushing them back up to your chest before he went back to fucking you. He was as deep as he possibly could be, hitting the sweet spot inside you every time he went back in.

“That’s it, jagi, take it all,” he muttered, starting to ramble, his words slurring together. He was panting now, his pupils blown out, all composure he had thrown out the damn window. His tongue rolled out of his mouth, and the sight alone nearly made you come right then.

Seonghwa slipped his hands under your shirt and ripped it off, stripping you down until you were bare, then dove down to your chest and ran his tongue over your skin. You cried out again as his mouth wrapped around one nipple and his hand came up to play with the other.

You clenched down tighter, nearly sobbing at this point. When you dared to look down, you squeaked. He looked up at you as he ravished your chest, his eyes half closed, his tongue sliding all over before his mouth closed around the nub again. All the whines and breathy moans he let out were only bringing you closer and closer.

Your climax was right there, so close, you just needed a little bit of a push. Seonghwa knew what it was, he was right there with you.

He reached down with his free hand and rubbed your clit. It was only seconds from there that you came all over him, screaming his name, sobbing, clinging onto his hair like you’d fall out of existence if you did.

Seonghwa came right after you did, pulling back from your chest to let out the prettiest, whiniest moans as he rolled his eyes back, pumping you full of his release, riding it out as he chanted your name.

You both sat panting for a while before Seonghwa finally pulled out of you. He reached out and held your cheek, wiping away the remaining tears. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No, not at all,” you mumbled, your brain still mush. Seonghwa smiled, sharing the same sentiment. His brain was fried after today.

He helped you sit up, and you both cleaned up as best you could before you got redressed.

After you did, Seonghwa pulled you into his arms and hugged you tight. You laid your head on his chest, and his heart was still pounding loudly against his ribs. You smiled as you nuzzled into his skin, squeezing him tight.

“I wish we could do that more often,” you said softly. Seonghwa laughed and shook his head.

“This took everything out of me, I feel like I’m gonna pass out right here.”

“Then let me take care of it next time.” You looked up at him, and he looked down at you, his eyes still doubtful. “I don’t mind. I like it when you’re the bottom anyway.” His cheeks turned red as he looked away, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“I mean, maybe, I don’t-”

Hongjoong threw the door open at that point, glaring at both of you. Your heart stopped dead in your chest as you clung onto Seonghwa.

“Seriously?! This is why we can’t have people backstage!” Hongjoong threw up his hands and tilted his head back, his tone exasperated. “Seonghwa, get to your dressing room, we’ve been waiting for you!”

“Okay okay, fine, breathe, Hongjoong.” Seonghwa pulled away from you, but leaned back to hold your cheek and press a sweet kiss to your lips. It was over far too soon, but he smiled at you as he pulled away. “I’ll see you later, gorgeous.”

As much as you hated watching him walk away with Hongjoong, you knew you’d be back in his arms tonight. And you could have your sexy, talented, adorable, sweet demon boyfriend all to yourself.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

[hawkinsbnbg]

For all the things those nimble hands could do, Eddie didn't know how to peel an orange without making a mess.

Steve always found it amusing how his husband could craft intricate pieces of artwork, but when it came to simple things, he suddenly became clumsy with flailing limbs and confused puppy eyes.

Despite his many attempts and determination, Eddie always failed in the end with ruined oranges clutched in his hands while juices spilling everywhere.

And Steve would eat them anyway. Because they didn't waste food, and because they loved each other at their best and their worst.

They were sitting on the couch with his feet in Eddie's lap as those deft hands rubbing and kneading the soreness away from his muscles.

"Wish I could learn how to do that," Eddie said while watching Steve peel the orange.

And you don't need to because I'm glad I can always do this for you, Steve wanted to say.

Instead, he tore the fruit in half and then shuffled into Eddie's lap.

As he fed his husband and himself section after section, he thought the aligned stars might as well have their names written on them.

Their fates were twining red strings, woven and knitted into a lovely knot.

"Teach me how to do it, sweetheart?" Eddie held him securely and pecked the corner of his lips.

"Peeling oranges?" Steve arched his eyebrow.

"Yeah, so I can pick out the white parts for you," Eddie gazed at him, warm like the Sunday morning when they slept in and cuddled while it was raining outside.

Steve met those chocolate eyes that filled his veins with honey and turned his inside into molasses.

Their love was a gentle thing, but no less powerful.

Just like an orange. It was built to share with many pulps and juicy flesh. And yet, its skin was unyielding, stubborn to a fault.

Even Steve had had to look up for a few tricks to take it apart.

And perhaps, that also applied to their love. To reach the rewarding part, one had to work for it.

Nothing had ever been easy for them.

But here, sitting in Eddie's lap and tasting the same orange with him, Steve felt like all those years, all their pains and losses had finally paid off.

"I can pick out the white parts myself," Steve pointed out gently.

"And what kind of husband am I to not help you with it?" Eddie countered with an easy smile. "We're one half of each other's, darlin'. I'm not gonna let you do anything alone."

"Even peeling oranges?" Steve leaned closer to whisper into those plump lips.

"Especially peeling oranges," Eddie gave him a citrus kiss, sour and sweet, fond and tender.

And Steve was putty in those loving hands.

Maybe, he thought dimly as Eddie took off his shirt, they could make marmalade together next time.

[flowerbunnyboo]

HOT SAUCE | back

starring: jeno x male reader

summary: A cutesy date between Mn and Jeno turns into a wild one.

nsfw, minors dni, don’t report

“Babe”, Jeno voiced out to his boyfriend who had just gotten up from his sleep. Jeno was making tasty pancakes for his love. Mn couldn’t help but smile seeing the sight in front of him. “Yes Nono?”. Jeno broke into a huge grin upon hearing the nickname. “I want to take you out on a date today!”.

The date went perfectly well. Mn and Jeno and a perfect time. The whole day, Mn was happy. He couldn't stop smiling and giggling. Jeno took him to a museum, then an art gallery. The two also went for shopping and then proceeded to have dinner.

Jeno wanted to see Mn happy and he had achieved that. But now the date was over and Mn and Jeno headed back home. The night was still young and both knew what was going to happen and were very much excited for it.

As the two stepped inside, Mn was slammed on the door as he felt plump lips kissing him. The kiss turned sloppy as time passed. Jeno bit Mn’s bottom lip so he could swirl his tongue in and Mn complied making Jeno win.

He groped Mn’s ass and grinded their hips together sending him over the edge. The kiss got heated and Jeno smirked as heard small moans come from his boyfriend's mouth. The dom then proceeded to kiss the younger’s jawline and neck and started to suck on Mn’s neck as he squirmed and moaned.

Both of them removed their clothes and Mn widened seeing his boyfriend's figure. Hot chiseled abs, with pecs. Jeno saw Mn’s eyes darken with lust. “Like what you see baby boy? ”. Mn smirked and pulled you in for another kiss,

“Yes daddy ”

After some passionate kissing Jeno’s dropped down on his knees, undid Mn’s pants and took his dick in his mouth. He bobbed his head fastly without stopping. Mn was now a moaning mess, he moaned so loud Jeno was pretty sure their neighbours must have heard it.

Mn tangled his fingers in Jeno's hair as he let out load moans. Jeno groped Mn’s ass making squirm and wanting for more. He could feel his release getting closer, “Aah Fuck daddy~don't stop” and with that he shot down his load in Jeno’s mouth.

He swallowed all of it and kissed Mn’s lips which Mn thought was quite hot. Jeno got up and kissed him, “Damn baby even your cum is delicious”. Mn giggled hearing his boyfriend.

Jeno hoisted Mn up as he put his legs around his waist. He could feel Jeno’s huge tent underneath. Jeno continued groping his ass . “A~h D-daddy ..”, the younger moaned as Jeno sucked on his chest.“ What baby? Daddy can't understand you”.

Mn whimpered as couldn't take it anymore. He wanted Jeno right now, "P~please f-fuck m-me”, he moaned. Jeno smirked, “Your wish is my command baby”. The dom took him to the bedroom and dropped him on the bed dropping clothes everywhere.

Jeno lowly growled and took of his pants. His dick dripping with precum. Mn widened his eyes when he saw his dick. It's huge. “Babe I don't think it will fit”. Jeno laughed seeing his reaction, “Don't worry I'll make it fit”.

Jeno spread Mn’s legs and thrusted one finger in without warning. Mn panted and moaned as he rolled his eyes. He had fingered himself so he was a little loose but he still wasn't prepared for Jeno's cock.

Soon enough Jeno was thrusting four fingers inside him and Mn couldn't take it anymore. He was a moaning mess. He came once again. His dick shooting white strings of cum painting both of their abdomens white.

Jeno smiled seeing the masterpiece in front to of him panting and heaving. He took out lube from his nightstand and applied a generous amount on your monster. Mn spread his legs wider for Jeno as he could see his pink hole.

Jeno aligned his phallus with many hole and swooped it right in. Mn was still tight but it felt too good to be around him. Mn rolled his eyes in pleasure as he felt Jeno's cock fill him up.

Once Jeno was all in, he waited for Mn to adjust. Mn gave him a look of consent and Jeno smirked as he started thrusting at an animalistic pace.

The room was full of skin slapping noises and mn moaning for hi daddy and Jeno's dick making mn cry in pleasure. Mn had came three times but that didn't stop Jeno. Mn clenched as Jeno abused his prostate.

“Damn baby so tight ”, the dom said as he felt mn's insides tightening. “Y-yes da~daddy o-only fo-r y-you ”, Mn said moaning. He was going to have an orgasm anytime. “Aa~ah”, the sub came again clenching his hole.

Jeno too was closer to his release. With a few final thrusts he came inside Mn filling him up. Mn felt full feeling his lover's cum fill him to the brim. Jeno pulled out and laid besides him and kissed his lips. Mn was happy and so was Jeno. “I love you Mnnie”, Jeno pecked his lips. “I love you too Daddy"

Jeno cleaned Mn and himself up and gave the older all the cuddles he wanted. They both fell asleep saying 'I love you's to each other and slept with love.

©️ flowerbunnyboo 2024. all rights reserved to me. please don't copy my work or reshare without my permission and credit

[zyonsay]

Js came back from a mental health break to see ZYON REQS OPEN !!! How about a Loscar x male reader smut? I don't know if you write for Logan Sargeant since you don't have him in your list so— 😭 if not you can change the driver to Lando I don't mind, but the three of them are drunk and playing drunk truth or dare and things take a turn - 🔥

I dare you LN4&OP81

Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!

Summary: A game of truth or dare between you, Lando and Oscar takes a turn...

Reader: Male

Warnings: Suggestive, NSFW, Dude-bro language, Horsegirl-ified reader because i said so

Now playing: 'Runway Walk' by Demrick

AN: Hey there! i FINALLY finished this and icl, not my best work. BUT i hope y'all can still enjoy this!

Loud chants echoed through the dimly lit bar. Your team members had picked you up and were now parading you around. The bar only had limited access to your equipe of elite show riders, a few close associates along with other familiar faces. Apparently, it was your lucky day, because your best friend finally had time to celebrate one of your many wins with you. Lando and yourself had been friends since diaper times and stuck together ever since. Even though you both were inseparable, your careers were demanding and didn’t offer you much time to hang out. He was now a rising F1 star, and you fought your way into prestigious show arenas, your schedules were now filled with training, media appointments and various other events. But, whenever you did find time to catch up, you always had a good time together. Not so recently he had introduced you to his teammate, and “friend”, Oscar. He’s a sweet guy, his smile felt like a little piece of sunshine and the swoop in his hair reminded you of gentle waves in the ocean. The chemistry between Lando and Oscar was kind of obvious, but you didn’t want to assume anything. That was until Lando had drunkenly admitted to his situationship.

The loud music boomed trough the doors as you stumbled out into the cold night air. Coordinating your wobbly legs while giggling uncontrollably was difficult. Very difficult. Lando had noticed your struggles and wrapped an arm around your waist while dragging you to the nearest bench. Maybe if you were sat, you wouldn’t fall on your face. A soft breeze blew trough the city and a slight shiver ran down your spine. It wasn’t actually cold, just refreshing enough. Lando had also sat down by now and leaned his head back while closing his eyes. Your gaze flickered to him, the street lanterns painted the contours of his face in orange hues. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the poetic mood you’ve found yourself in, but now felt like the right time to tell him how you feel. You’ve always loved him, but you were also scared of telling him, or anyone for that matter. Besides. You two had very busy lives and barely got to see each other, so how would a relationship work out? But now wasn’t the time to worry about that. Not when he was looking so beautiful. How do you say this? How do you confess your feelings without sounding like an absolute idiot. Gathering all your courage, your lips parted, and the first word was ready to leave them. “Y/n. I gotta tell you something.”, his eyes were still closed, and his head was still leant back. A frustrated sigh fell from his figure, and he shifted his seat. Now he was looking at you, God, those beautiful eyes. They were so sincere and looked like a fresh margarita at the beach. “I- “, his gaze avoided your own for a second before his eyes darted up to yours again. “I think I might be into men. Like in a gay way.” That was the most bro-dude way to say that, but it sure suits him. A small smile crept onto your face. “Thanks for trusting me.”, you grabbed his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Coming out to anyone is difficult, especially when you can’t predict how they’ll react. This was worth a lot to you.

“…and I sort of have a thing going right now,” Shit. SHIT. What? If it is some random dude, you swore to yourself that- “with Oscar.” Your brain must’ve short circuited right then and there. Your expression must’ve given your shock away, because Lando looked really worried all of a sudden. “…you okay mate?”, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. Quickly, you need to react, otherwise he’ll think you’re a weirdo. “Yeah, totally.”, you gulped, “I just didn’t expect you to start something with your teammate.” Absently, he scratched his arm. “Yeah, i gotta be careful. You know, with PR and stuff.”

Obviously, Oscar is also attending the afterparty. As much as you wanted to dislike him for getting together with your crush, he was so nice that you’d feel like an asshole. As sour as the taste in your mouth was, you were happy for them. They seem to fit together really well, and you couldn’t be mad because your best friend’s relationship is working out, that’s just rude. Nevertheless, the little touches they shared filled you with jealousy. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder. “Just so you know, I have your favorite white with me. In case you wanna celebrate some more later.”, you could basically hear the smug smile in Lando’s voice. Tempting. Maybe you weren’t feeling so sour after all.

Without much care, you left your shoes somewhere in the hallway, while leading Oscar and Lando towards the balcony. Usually when you were travelling around for competitons, you’d rent a hotel room, since there wasn’t really any point in staying longer than you had to. But for the finale of your season, you wanted to enjoy the beautiful city, before departing again. While your Horse was being flown back to your home country, you decided to rent a holiday home. It was relatively close to the coast, so you’d hear the lively waves when opening the windows. Your thoughts were cut short by the sound of shuffling cards. More specifically, a deck of UNO cards. Wait what. Why was he shuffling an UNO deck? Where did he even get that from?

“Nah dude, put that back down.” Lando slurred while lazily swatting Oscars hands away. Disgruntled, but indifferent enough, Oscar put the deck of cards back down. “Wild idea: lets revert back to seventh grade and play truth or dare.”, Lando’s face lit up at that. In his mind, he was already going trough all the evil dares he could make you guys do. “We’re literal adults.”, Oscar deadpanned. For a moment, it looked like Lando was thinking about something. “Well, let’s make things more interesting. Every time you pick truth or won’t do the dare, you take off one clothing piece.” He held up one finger, so it was clear that you wouldn’t be stripping completely naked in seconds. That’s an awfully odd request, but with the taste of wine still lingering on your tongue, you could care less. And so, it begun.

“Y/n, truth or dare?”, his intentions were pretty clear, but you wanted to toy with him for a little. “Dare.”, you took another sip of the fourth or fifth Bottle of white wine, that you three have been passing around like biscuits. “An easy one to start with, do a handstand.” Hah, that was a piece of cake. Scrambling off the rattan lounge, you readied yourself to do a handstand against the wall. A free-standing one might be a bit too confident in your current state. With a swift motion you hurled your legs into the air and banged them against the wall, while you did your best to not flop onto the floor. Considering how dizzy you were, you did a good job. “Impressive!”, Oscar giggled. There was nothing to laugh about, the bastard was up next. “Truth or Dare, Os?”, he was quick to answer. “Dare.” Bingo. As rarely as you and Lando got to catch up, he does talk about Oscar often. This man doesn’t even know hoe much you know about him. “I dare you to whistle.”, his smile faded. He was ninety percent sure you were aware of the elephant in the room. He sighed before pulling his shirt off. “I can’t whistle.”

Admittedly, this was much more fun than you initially thought it’d be. It must’ve already been something past midnight, but you guys were chatting away on the balcony. By now, your and Oscar’s shirts and socks had gone, while Lando was barely left in his briefs. “Truth or Dare?”, Lando intently looked at you. “Dare.” Now you’ve gotten yourself stuck in his trap. “I dare you to kiss me.”, now that made you stop in your tracks. “Dude, I’m not a homewrecker.” Oscar’s hickory eyes had a playful glint in them. “I’ll allow it.”, he leant against the backing of the lounge, readjusting his seat. Your heart pounded loudly in your chest. This is what you wanted for so long, but this feels taboo. Nevertheless, you leant forward and slid a hand behind your friend’s neck. Pulling him closer your lips met his and a contempt sigh left Lando. You felt Oscars eyes on you, they were burning holes into your skull. After all you were kissing his fling right now. The world seemed as if it was melting apart into a big mess of colors, but that all stopped when Lando gently pulled away. With slightly shaky hands, you settled back into a comfortable sitting position. “Oscar.”, he hummed, “Truth or dare?” He exaggeratedly tapped his finger against his chin. “Truth.” He now looked directly into your eyes. “Why didn’t you have a problem with me kissing Lando.”, his eyes widened at your question. For a moment he seemed to think for a good answer, but instead of speaking up, he glanced over at Lando. The brit loudly gulped, it sounded almost comical, before speaking up. “So, the thing is…” His, whatever Oscar was to him, tapped him on the knee, encouraging Lando to speak up. “I like you. Like in a gay way.” Dumbfounded, you shifted your gaze from Oscar to Lando and then back again at the pale Aussie. “And you’re ok with that?!”, you pointed your finger towards Oscar. “You see, we actually wanted you to... join our relationship.” His tone was unsure, and he kept searching Lando’s gaze.

Now you were officially flabbergasted. This must be a fever dream, right? There was no way this was real right now.

Obviously, it was, because now you were sat here with Lando kissing down your neck and Oscar pressed up behind you, squeezing your thighs, hips and waist. You leant your head backwards against Oscar’s shoulder, whining quietly. You whispered sharply, “I dare you to take those damn pants off.”, while fiddling with the buckle of his belt. Oscar chuckled lightly before slipping his pants off and propping himself up behind you again. Carefully, you reached behind you and felt his hard member in your hand. With gentle motions, you began palming him as best as possible. Lando smiled against your neck, his eyes darting up to meet Oscar’s gaze. His tanned hand tugged on your underwear before swiftly slipping underneath it. You gasped at the tight feeling of his hand around your dick. Slowly but surely, he started pumping up and down, meanwhile he continued his artwork of hickeys along your neck and chest bone. Not wanting to neglect his hard cock, you wrapped your hand around it and pressed your thumb over the tip. He exhaled sharply. Oscar leaned in close to your ear. “You wanna suck them?” Stuck in an endless loop of pleasure and torture, you could only whine as a pathetic attempt at an answer.

[2neaky]

𓇼°₊.𝚃𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 ❀ 𝙵𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚝 🥭

—Want you to suck it sloppy, make it spitty. I'm 'bout to call your phone, so come get with me.

Know you don't drink, can you sip me?

‘Dunk Contest,’ Cash Cobain

Last Installation of this ‘mini-series’ … P.1 here -> P.2 here

not the best editing, i know. this fic has been in the drafts for abt a month & ... it's time for their story to be closed out.

10.06k!Warnings: oral (masc. receiving), handj*bs (fem. & masc. recieving), mutual m*sturbation, filthy talk, *verstimulation, low refr*ctory periods, technically w*tersports (minor), edging, excessive amounts of ej*culation, squ*rting, descriptions of character’s body parts (curvaceous/thick/girthy), use of the n-word (all characters & the writer are Black), original characters

The next time the group gets together it’s well into the fall. 

Months of distance and busy schedules kept the friends separate. Yet, on a random weekend in October, the stars aligned to grant the friends a day of freedom to meet and catch up.

He won’t admit it aloud—that’s a bit too corny for him—but Ajani missed his people. The life of a working adult only gives but so much time for social gatherings. Especially with a whole friend-group.

Even then, it’s not like he hasn’t seen any of them since the party.

“I’on understand why you couldn’t just ride with me.”

“All my stuff is at my mom’s, ‘Jani.”

If he just closes his eyes, he can see the pout on her face. He glances at the screen, eyeing the contact name: Princxss Dia.

“Really? ‘Cause I almost tripped over your flat iron when I was getting in the shower.”

She groans out loud into the mic. “I knew I left it!”

He smiles, eyes now on the road as he makes a swift turn onto a busy street. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles upon seeing the traffic.

“But if I came with you … then they’d know.”

He kisses his teeth, face screwing up. “Man, I care less and less ‘bout that shit every day. I’m pretty sure they know—“

“‘Pretty sure’ is not a confirmation. And I wanna make sure the time is right when we tell them.”

He spots a parking space in front of the restaurant Boku had chosen for the night. No doubt, he’s going to snatch that shit up.

“Why shit gotta be ‘perfect?’” he asks, looking at his rear view camera as he backs into the space.

“I don’t know,” she mumbles. He can hear her moving around on the other side of the line. “I’m trying to … figure out a way to introduce it without … making everything weird,” she sighs out.

“How ‘bout, ‘hey guys, me and Ajani have been dating for a few months now,’” he mocks her voice.

“No.”

He sucks his teeth. “Why not?”

“That’s too blunt!”

“Exactly. What more is there to say? You wanna tell them the whole backstory? ‘Cause I’on really think they need to know that.”

“I’m not saying they do. I just think we need to … soften the approach.”

He puts his car in park before shutting it off, the engine dying down. “I’on know … what approach you talking ‘bout, but when you ready to stop hiding, you lemme know so I could book my appointment.”

“Appointment?”

“Oh, I didn’t tell you? I wanted to get your name tatted on my forehead.”

“ … Shut up.”

He laughs quietly to himself as he pulls down his sun visor. “You almost ready,” he asks, checking his appearance in the mirror.

It’s quiet for a couple of seconds. “No.”

His smile drops and he kisses his teeth. A second passes as he glares at the phone. Then, he picks it up. “Yo, answer my FaceTime.”

The mode of the call switches, bringing both of them into view on either’s screen. He licks his lips, getting a clear view of her pretty face as her phone is propped up against her vanity.

“Why you only got your makeup done?”

She frowns, setting powder decorating her face. “Because I did my hair first. It’s hair, makeup, then clothes.”

He only releases a sigh, unable to even be really upset.

“Aight, then hurry up. I told you we gonna have to work on that late shit.”

She smiles, reaching for a brush to dust off the powder. “Sorry, baby.”

He hums, eyeing her as he holds his phone closely. “You look good.”

She exchanges her brush for a lip pencil. “Thank you.” She tries not to smile too hard, careful not to mess up as she applies her liner.

“What you wearing?”

She blends out the harsh line of her dark brown liner with a finger. “A dress.”

He waits for her to explain further, but the explanation doesn’t come. “That’s it?”

“Mhm.” She quickly glances at the screen, looking away before she cracks a smile.

“Can I see it?”

“Nope.”

Now she’s smiling, a devious little one, too.

“Yeah, okay,” he scoffs. “You just make sure it’s no crazy ass shit. You know how Big Daddy gets.”

Her head jerks back as she looks at the screen, flabbergasted. “Don’t ever in your life … call yourself that again.”

“You just make sure you know,” he pushes before breaking into a smile, almost laughing. “But nah, forreal. That ass ain’t been getting smaller so … keep it cute.”

She rolls her eyes with pursed lips. “Shut up.”

He scoffs, looking out the window of his car. “Yeah … you think I’m joking.” He scoffs.

“Are you?”

He looks back at her, noting her nonchalance as she applies gloss over her lip combo.

“Play with me if you want to.” He licks his lips. His gaze falls to the exposed middle of her chest as her robe has slipped open. “I’on need niggas eyeing my shit.”

“Okay, Ajani.”

“Nah, it’s not Ajani,” he mocks her voice, earning a glare. “That’s Big Daddy to you—“

“I’m hanging up!”

She reaches forward, snatching up her phone.

“Don’t you wear nothing crazy!”

“Bye!”

The call ends abruptly, leaving him to shake his head. Not too long after pocketing his phone, he leaves the car. 

The only thing that’s on his mind being her.

Just before he enters the restaurant, he shoots her one last text.

Jani: lmk when u ready Ima call a uber

His face almost splits in half with how hard he smiles as he daps up his boys.

“Finally, nigga! We expected your ass to be here sooner,” Boku tells him.

“Chill, it was mad traffic,” he laughs. 

“Nah, facts. It’s mad people out tonight,” Mykel says.

The three are huddled close in the waiting area of the restaurant. All of the constant shifting to make way for entering and leaving patrons has pushed them to the corner.

“Forreal. Yo, why you pick this place?” Ajani looks to Boku. “I seen this shit blow up on TikTok.”

“Nigga, that’s where I got it from.”

All three dissolve into boisterous laughter, because Boku would be the one to make such a mistake.

Mykel shakes his head. “I’m already knowing the food and service ‘bout to be ass.”

“Nah, facts,” Ajani agrees.

“Aight, now. Not too much,” Boku chimes in. “‘Long as the drinks good, I could give less of a fuck about what they onion rings taste like.”

He and Mykel break off into a mini side conversation of their own, a usual occurrence between all three of them.

As they do so, Ajani pulls out his phone to check his notifications. Even though he doesn’t see one, he constantly refreshes the screen for a possible hidden text message that he just happened to miss.

None.

“‘Jani, you know where the girls at?”

Hesitantly, he looks up at the guys. “Nah,” he shakes his head, face blank. “Why would I know?” He makes a face.

“I’on know,” Mykel looks off to the side. “I thought Diamanté would’a told you something.”

“Why it gotta be Dia?”

“Nigga, don’t act dumb,” Boku butts in. “‘Cause y’all be talking.”

“I talk to Aleya and Sevyn, too.” When he laughs—the loud music masking its awkward tone—his eyes shift between his friends. 

“Not like you talk to Dia,” he scoffs. “That’s for damn sure.”

Sucking his teeth, Ajani wear a mask of confusion. “Nigga, shut up. You still on that shit—“

“‘Cause I know your ass still likes her!”

“Yo, I’m not even gonna lie,” Mykel starts. “I’ma have to side with Bo’ on this one. You might as well tell her at this point.”

His face contorts with annoyance. 

Nigga, shut up.

“That’s if he not already fucking her,” Boku laughs.

His brows pull together at Boku’s brash statement. “Yo, what?” 

Mykel rolls his lips inward, watching the two with caution. He questions, should he step in between this?

“Nah, I’m just saying! You’on gotta be embarrassed—”

“I ain’t embarrassed, nigga. There’s not shit to say, fuck I’ma be embarrassed for?”

Boku laughs, glancing at Mykel for backup. The other man remains quiet.

“Aight, then stand on it! Just say you fuckin’ her—“

Ajani doesn’t even realize that he takes a step forward. “Yo, shut the fuck up talking ‘bout her like that—“

“Alright, chill out now.” Mykel steps between them, placing a hand in front of Ajani to keep him back. 

Boku pulls his brows together. “Yo, wassup with you?”

“Ain’t shit up with nothing, you just make sure you keep shit respectful.” The scowl on his lips only deepens.

Boku raises his hands in defense. “My fault, bro. I wasn’t tryna offend—”

“Yeah, that’s ’cause you just open your mouth to say bullshit.” Ajani backs up the more Mykel pushes against him. “Like she not your fuckin’ friend, too, my nigga. What?”

“You good, bro. You good,” Mykel tells him. “Relax.”

“Just fuckin’ talkin’,” he rambles.

Before he can acknowledge the apology, his phone buzzes in his hand. Fully stepping away from them, Ajani checks his messages.

Princxss Dia: I’m ready

He wastes no time to order Diamanté’s Uber ride. 

With the distance between them and the Lou music playing overhead, it’s hard for him to hear. He knows Mykel and Boku are talking about him.

He refrains from even thinking much about it, though. Because just talking to Diamanté is putting him in a better mood.

Jani: its coming in 5 min

*screenshot of the Uber order*

Princxss Dia: tyy daddy🤗

Jani: 🙄

Princxss Dia: 💀

Jani: send me a picture

I wanna c u

Princxss Dia: it’s gonna ruin the surprise

Jani: surprise 

🤨

Princxss Dia: 💀

Jani: stop playing Dia

read

Thankfully, Aleya and Sevyn arrive not too long after. Their presences lighten the atmosphere considerably. 

Especially when Sevyn and Boku fall into conversation—a playful argument as usual about some dumb shit.

“Oh my God, I miss Dia’,” Aleya pouts. “Where is she?” She does a full-body turn, looking to Ajani.

Boku keeps quiet this time.

The question garners attention from the others within the group, who are now curious of his answer.

He kisses his teeth. “Why yall not asking her? Damn, what the fuck?”

Sevyn’s face screws up as her neck jerks back. “Nigga, calm the fuck down.”

“Right,” Aleya eyes him as her lips twist into an ugly scowl. “I just thought you’d know since y’all seem to be close.”

Sevyn hums in agreement. “Real close.”

Now, he’s making a face. “What that mea—“

“Hi guys!”

The much softer voice breaks the conversation, catching everyone’s attention. 

Walking towards them, Diamanté’s bright smile lights up the dimly lit space. 

Her straightened, black hair flows down her back. Being pulled back, it leaves her entire outfit exposed: a simple black Skims dress, flowing to her ankles.

The classy, white Hermes slides on her feet show off her white French toes. A small white crossbody purse ties the dress with the shoes.

Yeah, she’s cute and all—Ajani would never deny her that. But even underneath the restaurant’s dim, multicolored lighting, he can see every detail of her body “hiding” beneath the thin, ribbed fabric.

Down to her fucking belly piercing.

His eyes flick up to look into hers. He’s staring hard.

“Finally!” Aleya screams.

She runs to meet the short woman halfway, throwing her arms around her. Sevyn is right behind her, doing the same.

The women hug each other and their bodies sway like palm trees in the wind. Ajani’s happy for them—Diamanté, at least. It’s been so long since she’s seen them.

However, the happiness is short lived.

Others seem to be enjoying the women’s show happiness, too. Ajani looks over them, catching a small group of guys watching them.

What hint of a smile that was on his face shrinks immediately.

“I missed you guys,” Dia tells them as she pulls back, covering her mouth.

“We need to go out more,” Sevyn says. “‘Cause not seeing each other for this long is fucking ridiculous.”

“I know,” she pouts.

“Girl, you look so fucking good—” A sharp gasp slices through Aleya’s sentence. She reaches out to grab Dia’s arm, pulling her forward to peer down her back. “Girl, your ass!”

Looking too, Sevyn’s mouth drops in shock. “Damn, bitch!” 

Diamanté only laughs as she looks between her friends.

“It looks so fucking big,” Aleya says in awe. She looks over at Sevyn. “No, like deadass. Like it looks bigger.”

“How she get more ass and mine getting flatter?” Sevyn jokes.

“Drop the routine!” Aleya reaches behind Diamanté, grabbing a good handful of her ass. She sticks out her tongue.

Diamanté only laughs harder.

“Fuck a routine,” Sevyn declares. “Who you been fucking?” The interrogative expression on her face is intense.

“Oh my God,” she says, hand over her mouth as her smile only grows.

“It’s so heavy,” Aleya says in amazement, using both hands to lift her ass. Squeezing tightly, the dimpled skin can be seen through the fabric. “I can’t even hold it all, what the fuck!”

As the girls continue to laugh, Ajani only continues to watch the leering men. 

It takes everything in him not to go towards the women and tell them to stop.

Playfully, Diamanté rolls her eyes. “You guys are chatting.”

“No, girl. Your shit is mad fat, like what the fuck?”

“Okay, okay,” Diamanté says. “Can we sit now?”

Sevyn purses her lips, eyeing her friend. “Mhm. Look at you, you just so tea. Like you come up in here glowing, ass fatter, face card on 10, inches—you just showing out tonight!”

“Facts,” Aleya agrees.

Finally, they return to the other half of the group. Diamanté breaks away from her girls to greet the guys.

“Wassup, Dia,” Mykel gives her a side hug.

“Hey,” she sings.

She pulls away to give Boku the same embrace.

“Hey, Dia.”

“Hi, Boku,” she smiles.

Boku and Ajani make eye contact for a split second. Quickly, Boku looks away just before pulling back.

Ajani doesn’t get the chance to really mug that nigga how he wants to as Diamanté makes her way over to him.

“Hiii,” her voice is much softer.

She’s trying to fight back a smile, he can tell. But, it’s too cute as her teeth slowly come into full display.

The corners of his mouth lift uncontrollably. “Hey.”

Wordlessly, she steps into his embrace, resting her head on his chest. His arms circle around her waist, pulling her body closer.

“Why you ain’t text me when you got here?” 

His chest vibrates with each word. She can even hear the smile in his voice.

“I forgot.”

“Would’a came out and got you.”

She pulls away with a laugh, careful to keep their interaction brief enough so that they don’t get their friends started.

“Damn, Ajani. She wasn’t going nowhere.”

Clearly, that didn’t work.

His smile drops as his eyes flit over to Aleya, who wears a smug grin on her lips.

“Aight, now that all y’all niggas is here, I’ma see if we could check in for the table,” Boku announces.

He parts from the group to make his way to the hostess’ booth.

Conversation between the remaining five is quite mellow. Ajani finds himself standing back, only admiring Diamanté as she speaks.

Even when she’s quiet, he’s paying close attention to her body language and the way she reacts to things said.

“Let’s go,” Boku says as he rejoins the group.

“Thank you, God,” Aleya praises.

“Facts, these heels are killing my feet,” Sevyn complains as she starts after Boku.

As everyone else follows, heading towards the table, Ajani stays behind. Before Diamanté can catch up, he grabs ahold of her hand, stopping her in her tracks.

“Hol’on, ‘cause I didn’t get a proper ‘hello.’”

He pulls her body back in close, missing the feel of her against him. He almost sighs when her soft body presses against his.

Diamanté allows herself to smile as big as she wants to. She angles her head up for a kiss. The gentleman he is, Ajani meets her halfway and presses his lips against hers.

A small peck isn’t enough, as he finds himself going back in for a couple more. And as he does so, he doesn’t resist the urge to reach behind her and cop a feel of her ass himself.

His lips plant mini smooches from her cheek all the way down to her neck. She turns her head to the side, giving him more access.

“You look mad good,” he says into her skin.

His muffled voice tickles her skin, pulling a bubbly giggle out of her. “You told me that already.”

“Aight, and I’m telling you again.” Ajani pulls back just far enough to look her in the eyes. 

Damn, he really meant that shit. It’s almost unbelievable how bad she is. Sometimes he wonders how the fuck he was able to bag her.

“But I also told you not to come outside wearing no shit like this—“

She squeals as he lays a harsh smack to her ass, gripping the fat immediately after.

“Ajani!” She whisper-shouts, eyes wide with shock.

He only bites down on his bottom lip, eyes flitting past her to see the group of men from earlier still in the same spots. 

Except this time, they’re glaring. 

“Told you I ain’t want you showing off my shit like this.”

His other hand cradles her neck, squeezing just enough as he plants another smooch on her lips.

When he pulls back, he sees the inkling of a dazed look in her low eyes. Even from behind those big ass glasses.

“Okay,” she whines softly.

“Mmh.”

She begins to laugh, because she can definitely feel herself slipping into a mood.

“C’mon, before I fuck ya lil’ ass up out here.” His hands fall from her. “Got niggas looking at you all crazy.”

He holds his hand out for her to take. When she does, they make their way over to the table. 

However, before they get close enough, they place some distance between themselves.

Conversation at the table is all smiles and laughter over their platters and drinks.

Speaking of drinks, no one at the table is too good to pass up a bit of alcohol. Not even those who drove here.

“See this? This right here?” Sevyn taps an acrylic nail to the glass of her fruity drink. “I’ma need me some more’a that!”

“Mhm,” Aleya hums, sipping on hers through the straw.

Liquor seems to bring the conversation out of the friends. But, Ajani refrains from specifically addressing Boku. And Diamanté finds herself becoming more and more quiet.

Even with her besties around her, she can’t seem to make herself speak. What can she say, when all of her thoughts are filled with Ajani? Definitely not anything that should be said out-loud. 

At the very least, on a FaceTime call with just the girls.

Hiding behind her lemon drop, she watches him from across the table with low eyes. Every time he smiles, he does so just enough to give a peek at his grillz. 

Fuck, he looks so good. He smells even better. And the way he was choking her up out there, smacking her ass—

No lie, it made her wet. Her clit was thumping for sure. The liquor isn’t helping as it’s bringing up memories.

Like how just a couple of nights ago, she was staying over at his apartment. It was a time. 

Two shots of Don was all it took for her to end up on her tummy, getting dicked down.

He fucked her stupid that night. She almost wished she wasn’t on birth control. But that was just the liquor talking.

Her eyes flutter close as her thighs squeeze together. She has to take a deep breath.

“And Dia’s ass is already off the shits!”

A chorus of laughter sounds throughout the table, knocking her from her thoughts. As she looks around her, she offers a shy smile.

“Y’all some damn lightweights,” Sevyn continues to joke.

“I ain’t—look—I ain’t no fuckin’ lightweight,” Boku shouts, holding his glass up.

“Maaan,” Mykel gives him a look. “You better slow down, nigga.”

More laughter sounds. With the spotlight off of her, Diamanté’s thoughts circle back to Ajani.

And speaking of, he takes a sip of his alcohol to hide his smirk. He’s not oblivious, he could feel her staring this whole time.

Of course, it flatters him. If it’s one thing about Diamanté, it’s that she gets freaky off the liquor. And he can tell what’s running through her mind.

Because he’s thinking about the same thing. He’s just got to hold out for the rest of the night.

Leave it up to Boku to plan some weird ass shit. Who the fuck goes bowling after dinner and drinks?

Shit, at least the place serves drinks. And if Ajani was fucking with him right now, he’d commend him for at least picking a good spot.

The alley is surprisingly busy around this time, for it being almost eleven pm. It’s mostly dark in here, just like the damn restaurant.

Why doesn’t Boku ever pick places with good lighting?

“On my soul, I’m washing y’all niggas,” Aleya swears. She shoves a foot into the rented pair of shoes.

Mykel shakes his head, strapping up his pair. “Here she go.”

“Oh shit … I don’t got not socks, y’all.” The usual rasp in Sevyn’s voice is worse due to the drinks.

“Me neither,” Diamanté says, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she fans herself.

Not only is she just a bit horny, but she’s fucking hot. The only downside to drinking. She only hopes she doesn’t sweat her silk press out.

“There’s a booth that sells them,” Boku says.

“Honestly, I don’t think I’ma play. I’ll just watch y’all,” she smiles.

“Ugh! Boringgg,” Aleya groans, throwing her head back.

Sevyn looks to Diamanté. “Okay, well, you could come with me while I buy my socks?”

She nods, prompting her to stand up. 

“Can’t wait to wear them shoes. Fuck these heels, bro.” Sevyn holds on to her shoulder for support.

“Aye, if y’all get lost, call one’a us,” Ajani says. “It’s too many people in here tonight.”

“Sure thing, officer!” Sevyn scoffs.

Ajani gives her a scowl, and Dia gives him a short wave before the two of them are off.

“Damn, that’s a long ass line!” Sevyn scowls seeing the bodies fill the area.

“Oh my gosh,” Diamanté frowns.

“I do not wanna be standing on these fucking heels any longer!”

Kissing her teeth, she reluctantly joins the line, Dia in tow. As they wait, both women are scrolling through their phones trying to pass the time.

But it doesn’t take long for them to get to talking.

“If I ask you this question, you gonna be honest?”

Diamanté peers up from her screen to look at Sevyn. Her brows pull together in question. “Yeah?”

Sevyn eyes her for a moment. “You and Ajani fucking? Like—and be honest. Don’t lie to me girl, I hate that shit.”

A sigh leaves Diamanté. Clicking her phone off, she fully looks her friend in the eyes. “Yeah—“

“I knew it! I fucking knew iiit!” Sevyn jumps up and down on her supposedly aching feet. “Fuck! Since when?”

Trying to keep herself from smiling, she stays quiet.

A gasp. “It was after the party, wasn’t it?”

She nods, her smile growing.

They move up in the line.

“Bitch! I fucking—nah, ‘cause I checked your fucking lo’ and your ass was still there after we all left. Uh-uh, y’all so damn nasty.”

“Okay,” she rolls her eyes. “Don’t say anything about it. I’m still trying to … figure out a way to tell the others.” She frowns to herself.

Sevyn makes a face. “Girl, what you mean? Just drop the tea,” she laughs. “Shit, you could do it in the fucking chat. Matter fact, I don’t even think niggas really give a fuck. We all grown, Dia’. And it’s not like we all didn’t see it coming…”

“Shut up.” She rolls her eyes. “But, I just wanna tell ‘Leya at least, before I really … break the news.”

“Aight, I feel you.” Sevyn looks her over before breaking out into a dirty smile. “So he the reason your ass been getting fatter.”

“Oh my gosh.” She looks away from her, shaking her head.

“That’s fucking crazy. Who the fuck knew he was putting it down like that?”

Just before she can respond, her phone lights up with a message.

Jani: wya

U got lost ?

“Speak’a the fucking devil,” Sevyn says over her shoulder, spotting the message.

“Hush,” Dia laughs, typingout her response. 

“I like how he ain’t even ask about me. So it’s just fuck me, then.”

“What if the ‘y’ means y’all?”

Sevyn rolls her eyes before her face settles. “But, at least he’s crazy about you. That’s all I want for you.”

Diamanté looks up at her friend with a soft smile. “Thank you.”

“Mhm. I seen y’all at the restaurant.”

Her smile drops and her eyes widen just a bit. “Sevyn.”

“What?”

“If you saw why did you ask?”

She smirks. “I just wanted to see if you would lie.”

The shorter woman groans out.

“Yeah, ya lil’ ass is mad freaky, eewww.” She laughs obnoxiously. “Never thought I’d see you get choked up like that. Or him smacking ya shit—”

“Stop, please!” She hides her face in her hands.

“Oh, I just know he told you not to wear that shit,” she cackles. “You in trouble,” she sings. “That nigga had that crazy look in his eyes. Especially when he seen them niggas staring in the restaurant.”

“Are you serious?”

“Mhm,” she nods with crossed arms. “You just make sure you stay on his good side. Before I become an aunty too soon.”

Diamanté shoves her shoulder. “Don’t wish that on me.”

“Oh, bitch, I’m actually wishing that shit and more. You know I always wanted a little niece or nephew—even if ‘Jani’s annoying ass is the father.” She rolls her eyes.

“I rebuke kids,” she laughs. “Hell no.”

“Yeah, okay. If you say that, you better not tell me that y’all be fucking raw.”

Diamanté doesn’t say anything to that.

When the game commences, Diamanté is the only one to sit it out. And she’s having just as good a time as any.

Mykel had ordered wings for the group—lemon pepper and garlic Parmesan. Drinks, too, of course.

She nibbles on a couple of wings, courtesy of Ajani feeding them to her.

He’s had his fair share of extra drinks. And with each sip, he’s caring less and less about hiding shit from their friends.

Speaking of drinks, Dia’s been washing her food down with sips of water and gulps of fruity, alcoholic drinks. And she really should’ve stopped herself. 

Because now she’s got to go to the bathroom.

“Nah, I dead gotta go, too,” Sevyn says.

“I’ma come with y’all.” Aleya gets on her feet.

“Damn, y’all just gonna pause the game like that?” Mykel says, biting into a wing.

“We’ll be back!” Aleya declares.

The women make their way over to the bathrooms, which—unsurprisingly—has a line.

“Fuuuck! All these fucking lines!” Sevyn groans, stomping her foot.

“I know,” Dia says, shifting in her spot as she holds her lower stomach. “I gotta go … so bad,” she huffs.

“I bet you the men’s bathroom not even full like that.”

Sevyn scoffs. “I’m not going to no niggas’ bathroom at a bowling alley. ‘Bouta smell like funky dick and straight piss in there.”

Dia laughs.

“But, shit, since we here…” Sevyn turns to her. “Tell her.”

Aleya looks to Diamanté. 

“Oh, um … Ajani and I—“

“I fucking knew it!”

Sevyn throws her head back in laughter. 

“Y’all could not hide that shit!” Her eyes are wide as she points back at their lane. “When I seen that nigga feeding you them wings, it was certified!”

“Bitch, you don’t even wanna know what I saw,” Sevyn says, clinging to her.

As she and Diamanté catch her up on everything, they inch closer to the bathroom door.

Diamanté tells them about the most recent date they’d been on together. And while it’s an interesting story, Sevyn can’t help but to feel eyes on them.

She turns her head, to see a group of men looking their way. They make eye contact, as it appears that they’re pushing their friend to make a move.

“Oh fuck no.”

Aleya and Diamanté look at her.

“Y’all, is that them niggas from the restaurant?”

They look over at the men, one of them immediately making eye contact with Dia.

“Please don’t tell me they about to come over here,” Aleya scowls. “Ugh, I hate niggas!”

She says it loud enough for them to hear. And yet, one of them is still making their way over.

Sevyn kisses her teeth. “Bruh.”

The guy making his way over has his eyes dead set on Diamanté. His long locs are pulled back into barrel twists and a mature beard sits on the lower half of his face.

His dangling cross earring makes Sevyn scoff. “This corny ass nigga,” she mumbles.

“Wassup,” he greets, only looking at Diamanté.

Rude, she thinks. Her nose wrinkles as the smell of weed fills the space.

“Hello to you, too,” Aleya sasses.

“My bad,” he laughs. “I just wanted to come talk to you,” he nods over at Dia. 

“Okay,” she says quietly.

“You fine as shit, I’m not even gonna cap,” he smiles, showing a gold canine tooth. “Not on no creep-shit, but I seen you at The Palacades and,” he shrugs. “Don’t hurt to try, right?”

“Proceeds to be on some creep-shit,” Sevyn says.

“Right,” Aleya agrees.

The two share a laugh, causing the man to glance at them. He doesn’t let that deter him, though.

“You … saw me there?” Diamanté asks, her face creasing with confusion. 

“Yeah you and that guy.”

Now it’s Aleya’s turn to make a face.

“Hol’up,” Sevyn laughs, shaking her head. 

“Y’know, I just wanted to shoot my shot. Like, you never know. Y’all might not even be serious—“

“Well, they are. And you’re mad weird for asking.” She twists her face up. “What the fuck? Nigga is you cool?”

“Hold on,” he says, turning to Sevyn. “I don’t remember asking about you. So, I don’t know why you tryna get involved.” He’s getting visibly irritated.

“She don’t have to,” Aleya steps in. “If you seen my friend with her nigga, why are you harassing her?”

Worry makes itself evident on Dia’s face. She’s not sure where this conversation is going to go. And she definitely forgot her pepper gel at home.

“‘Cause that corny ass move that nigga tried to do wasn’t shit,” he laughs. “He think smacking ya ass was gonna scare somebody off? I don’t give a fuck about that shit,” he laughs. 

“Okay, no—“ Diamanté starts, but Sevyn is too quick to come to her defense.

“Get the fuck outta here, you weirdo ass nigga. She don’t want you!”

“She said that, though?”

“She ain’t say she wanted you neither,” Aleya says.

“Man, y’all bitches kill me.”

“Bitches?” They all say in unison.

“Yeah. It’s always the ugly ones talking the most shit—“

“Nigga you look like a fucking dog in the face yourself!” Aleya gets to pointing.

And as their voices climb, both sides growing more aggressive, Diamanté finds herself paralyzed with fear.

She is not sober enough for this.

Back at the lane, the guys keep themselves busy. Mykel cheats, taking the girl’s turns for them—and throwing horrendous gutter balls.

Meanwhile, Boku and Ajani are seated, munching on the leftover wings. Well, Ajani doesn’t eat as much as Boku, but he’s got a couple of bites in.

Neither of them address the other. And it’s … annoying. 

Although Ajani is still upset about what was said, it sucks that this is how their first time hanging out in a minute has to be like this.

But he’s not a pussy. And he’s damn sure not speaking first. 

A nudge to his shoulder brings him out of his phone. He looks up, seeing Boku stare at him.

“Yo, I’m sorry ‘bout earlier, bro. I should’ve never said that shit. I just be talking sometimes, you know that. And I be saying the wrong shit.”

“Mmh.”

“And Dia’s my friend. It’s not right’a me to be disrespecting her like that. If you want, shit, I’ll even apologize to her, too.”

Ajani watches him for a moment.

Their silence is broken by a shout from Mykel in the distance, cheering as he scores a strike.

“Nah … you ain’t gotta do that,” he finally says. “I respect the apology. But watch your mouth ‘bout her.”

Boku nods in understanding.

Silence falls over them again as the sounds of the alley machines, the music, people talking, and the arcade games fill the space.

Ajani almost feels himself dissociating again as his tipsy brain thinks. And one thing about him, is that his mouth runs.

Swallowing, he looks away from his friend. “Nah … you was right, though.”

Boku wears a questioning look on his face. “What you mean?”

It takes a second before Ajani finally looks at him. “We fucking with each other.”

He tries to conceal his excitement. But, he just can’t stop himself from dapping him up. 

“My nigga—uh, no disrespect, though.”

Ajani shakes his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Y’all better come play before I do your turns!”

“Nigga, fuck the game! Come over here, Jay got something to say!”

Reluctantly placing the ball back onto the rack, Mykel heads over to them.

“What you got to say?” He takes the last garlic Parmesan wing, earning a glare from Boku.

“Guess,” Boku says.

Mykel turns to Ajani, eyeing him. “You and Dia?”

He nods, earning another smile from their standing friend. “That’s what I’m talking ‘bout,” he laughs. “You asked her?”

“Yeah,” Ajani says, keeping it short. But his smile says everything, as he reminisces on that night.

“When y’all got together?” Boku asks.

He kisses his teeth, feeling the liquor in his system. “Uh … at the party.”

Both men stare at him with wide eyes. 

“Nigga—that’s almost six months!” Boku shouts.

“It’s no way y’all hid that shit for that long,” Mykel laughs.

“Wasn’t my idea,” Ajani says. “She over here, scared to say shit. But me—I’on give a fuck.” He scoffs. “I’a get her shit tatted, she keep fuckin’ with me,” he shakes his head, toying with the ends of a braid.

Boku and Mykel share a look, and a thought—this nigga is drunk.

Before either of them could voice it, however, Sevyn’s raspy ass voice enters their ears.

“Y’all hear that shit?” Mykel asks, twisting and turning to find the source of the voice.

“Why the fuck she yelling?” Boku asks, looking for her, too.

“How they still not back from the bathroom?”

It’s Ajani that spots her first—in a nigga’s face.

“Yo,” he says, sitting up, more alert than ever.

The guys notice, too. And it doesn’t take long for Ajani to get out of his seat. He’s the first to make it over there. And immediately he’s hit with the smell of weed.

“What’s going on?”

He immediately looks to Diamanté, who has discomfort written all over her face.

“Hell no, come get this nigga,” Aleya shout, pointing at the man.

Ajani watches him back up an inch as he raises his hands in defense. As he stares at the guy, he finds him just a tad bit familiar.

“What’s the issue?”

“It’s no issue, bro—“

“Clearly, it is!” Sevyn cuts in. “‘Cause you was throwing that ‘bitch’ word around a lot—“

“Look, I was just tryna get at your friend,” he says, pointing to Diamanté.

Ajani’s brows furrow as he looks between her and the guy.

“She don’t want you,” Aleya screams.

Then it clicks; This guy was apart of that group that caught themselves staring Diamanté down.

“Go back to your fuckin’ group,” Ajani says. “You a fuckin’ cornball,” he spits.

“Bum ass nigga—and he stink!” Aleya points at him.

“Man, get the fuck outta here, she don’t need no other nigga.” 

Ajani steps forward as he speaks, the other man stepping back.

“Aight, my fault—“

“It was. The fuck?” Sevyn says.

Finally, the man walks off, leaving the friends alone once more. The women seem to let out a sigh of release, and Diamanté seems to cling to Ajani’s side.

“That fucking weirdo. Shit just pissed me off I don’t even wanna pee no more.” Sevyn crosses her arms, her anger slow to dissipate.

“No, I’m still gonna use the bathroom,” Aleya scoffs.

“Me too.”

Diamanté’s quiet voice grabs their attentions, especially Ajani’s.

His brows furrow. “Nah, you could use the bathroom home.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

“Yeah, fuck all this shit. We going.”

“Ajani—“

He shakes his head. “Nah, I’on give a fuck. That nigga got me fucked up.”

Aleya and Sevyn share a knowing look.

“Tell ‘em niggas we gone,” he says, taking up Diamanté’s hand.

Too tipsy to really object, she tells her friends ‘goodnight,’ promising to text them tomorrow.

Sevyn and Aleya’s farewells are drowned out by their quickly increasing distance and the overall loudness of the alley.

When they finally make it outside, the cool breeze of tonight hits her clammy skin. She squeezes his hand tighter.

“Fuckin’ bum ass nigga—I knew I seen him.”

She peers up at him, his eyes staring off into the distance as he speaks his thoughts.

“Should’a fucked him up, if I’m being honest.”

When they reach his car, Ajani opens the passenger door for her. She climbs inside, relieved to be off her feet.

But before he closes the door, he bends down to look her in the eyes.

“You good?”

She nods. “Yeah.”

“He didn’t touch you or nothing?”

“No, Ajani. I’m good.” 

With a nod, he shuts the car door and walks over to his side before sliding behind the wheel.

The drive to his apartment is quiet for the first few minutes. Even his music plays low over the speakers.

She watches his side profile, noting the lowness of his eyes and the way his shoulders sag.

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes don’t leave the road, but his brows furrow. “For what?”

She only shrugs, the small action enough to garner his attention for just a second.

“You ain’t do shit. That nigga was just a creep.”

“Yeah,” she exhales. 

“Shit, but I definitely shouldn’t be driving right now.” He drags a hand down his face. “Just tryna get in my fuckin’ bed.”

Licking her lips, Diamanté busies her hands by toying with her phone. “Are you really tired?”

He gives her a quick side eye as a lazy smile presents on his face.

“Depends … what you tryna do?”

She looks forward at the nearly empty road ahead of them. Then she shrugs.

“Yeah, I seen the way you was looking at me back at the restaurant... Lil’ freaky ass.”

She laughs just a bit. “It’s been a couple days … what do you expect?”

He scoffs, leaning back in his seat as he leaves one hand on the wheel. “You really sumn else,” he says low, rubbing his chin.

Chewing on her lower lip, she stares at him as a thought brews in her head. Her silence cause him to look her way.

“What you thinkin’ ‘bout over there?”

She releases her bottom lip. Her eyes drop to his lap.

“Can I touch it?”

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “Could do whatever you want … it’s yours.”

With caution, she slowly reaches over the console and spreads her hand over his lap. She traces the barely-hard length through his jeans.

He retains his composure even as he struggles to focus on driving properly.

“You smelled so good today,” she whispers.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” she breathes out. “So fucking good. She laughs softly, pulling a smile out of him.

The more she rubs up on him, the harder he gets. She licks her lips and reaches over with the other hand to unbutton his jeans and zip them down.

She slips a hand between the layer of his jeans and his boxers, feeling him up through the thin fabric.

“When we was at the restaurant, I was thinking of last weekend, when I stayed over.”

Cradling the underside of his dick, her thumb swipes over his fat tip. Excitement races through her as she feels every curve of the mushroom-shaped head.

A faint twitch makes her smile bigger.

“How you was fucking me.”

Her voice slightly lifts at the end of her sentence, as if the thought alone was enough to get her going.

He found that shit so sexy.

Her thumb continues to rub circles into him. However, she also begins to squeeze him in her palm.

Ajani shifts in his seat, his legs widening on their own.

“Fuck, you were so deep, baby.”

She’s squeezing him harder, her little hand working his tip.

“So fucking deep—“

He barely hears the tiny moan that slips out. It takes his attention off of the road for a couple of seconds.

Just long enough for him to catch her with her other hand now between her own legs, dress hiked up around her waist.

He quickly looks away. The sight sends another rush of blood to his dick, and she can feel it as he pulses in her hand.

As one of her hands feels along his length, the other presses against the seat of her damp panties. The pressure pulls a shiver out of her.

“Oh, shit,” she gasps, quietly. “Fuck, I still have to pee.” Her thighs clamp around her wrist as she remembers her plight.

He glances at her again, trying to fight the melting of his brain as she continues to get him off.

“Keep going.”

His raspy voice catches her off guard.

“W-what?”

He licks his lips and swallows, taking a turn onto a major roadway. “Keep touching yourself.”

“I still have to pe—“

“Hold it.”

Her silence earns another look her way.

“I mean it, too. Just got this shit detailed … so don’t fuck up my seats.”

The gentleness of his voice makes her clench.

His head almost falls back when a tight pressure surrounds his balls. It’s hard to keep his eyes open.

Kicking off her sandal, Diamanté pulls a leg up onto the seat. Her French-tipped toes dig into the shiny, smooth leather as she opens herself up wider.

She rubs herself through her thin panties with a full hand. As she falls into a rhythm, both of her hands sync together as she pleasures both herself and Ajani.

Her legs open up even wider as she changes from using her full hand to just her middle and ring fingers. 

Pushed together, she rubs slow, sloppy circles over her clit. The swollen bud pulses, pushing through her thick folds and even creating a small bump through the thin material.

Her wrist aches, but she doesn’t stop. Her pussy clenched repeatedly and her breathing grows unsteady.

Slow, lazy blinks come before her eyes roll back closed. She whimpers to herself.

Ajani tries not to swerve as his brain tries to focus on two things at once. But, he can’t stop his hips from fucking into her hand—even if just a little bit.

Diamanté sends three, solid smacks to her pussy. Upon the third one, her thigh snap shut and her eyes squeeze closed. Her mouth hangs open as her body freezes.

Before she can stop it, her body lets loose for a split second. Just a tiny stream lets out, creating a small soak-spot into her underwear. Immediately, she regains control, stopping her release.

The pace she’d been able to keep up falters as she grows weak from her own hand.

“Keep going,” he tells her.

She shakes her head first. “I … I can’t.”

“Dia—“

“I can’t, I can’t—“

“Move ya hand.” 

He pries her thighs open with his free hand, and snatches hers from between them. 

He replaces her with his touch, cupping the fat mound before sliding his fingers against her. He feels the small wet spot, and it makes his dick harder.

“Told you to hold it.” He lays a smack down on her clit, and her legs try to close around his arm.

A louder moan leaves her this time. But, she holds it as best as she can.

“And keep squeezing my shit,” he says, his voice deep and heavy with lust.

Mewling, she gives her focus to his dick. Rubbing and squeezing it. And when that’s no longer enough, she pulls him out of his boxers.

“Shit…” he exhales in relief.

The hot, length stands stiff in both of her hands. Dribbles of precum run down his length. She’s quick to swipe it up as she twists both hands over him, pulling at the veiny skin.

“Mmh … fuck, baby. J-just like that.”

Ajani doesn’t let that distract him, however. Hand between her legs, he rubs his middle finger over her protruding clit.

She almost cries out as he neglects to touch her, keeping her underwear between them. 

His pointer finger drops down to join the middle. And he pinches her bud. She yelps out.

“Hold it,” he says, pinching harder. “Hold it.”

Her head falls back as she cries out. The dam is about the break, she can feel it. 

Her body goes numb for half a second, and then she feel the wet spot spread just a tiny bit bigger.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming—“

He cups her once more, feeling her clench down on nothing in his hand. The pink G-string clings to her lips, conforming to their shape.

Her hands freeze around his dick, unable to focus on him as she tries to keep herself from finishing completely over his seats.

“We almost there … almost there,” he soothes, turning into his building’s parking lot.

After regaining her composure, Dia tucks him back in his pants and zips him back up.

Ajani removes his hand as he parks in his designated spot, giving her the chance to fix herself.

When they get out the car, it’s a bit of relief. However, Ajani still has to make it to his apartment without being caught with this boner.

Watching Dia walk ahead of him to get into the main building, he gets an idea.

It’s hard to concentrate as they stand there waiting for the elevator. There’s no one in the lobby, but that doesn’t make her any less nervous.

Standing, her backside pressed to his front, she feels his dick poking at her. 

Ajani’s so hard, it almost aches. He kisses his teeth, and his hand on her hip squeezes harder.

“Where this fuckin’ elevator at? Not tryna be waiting here all night.”

As he talks, his hips move just a bit, pushing his dick harder into the fat of her ass. It’s not helping, honestly.

But, much to her relief, the elevator finally arrives with a sharp ding. They walk in and Ajani is quick to press the button to the eleventh floor.

It seems like time slows as the shaft achingly climbs the floors. Dia doesn’t get to watch the numbers change as a hand comes around her neck and squeezes—her eyes flutter shut.

“Can’t wait to ruin yo shit,” he whispers in her ear. “Have you bouncing on my dick.”

She moans softly as his hand tightens.

He sucks his teeth. “Matter fact—“

It must be the liquor that has him doing this, and what’s got her letting it happen.

In one second, she’s bent over, her hands bracing the wall before her as he stands behind.

“Should just fuck ya lil’ ass in here.”

He smacks her left cheek before rutting into her. He spreads her ass with both hands, rubbing his clothed dick into her core.

“O-oh fuck,” she whimpers. The friction has her legs trembling.

“Keep fuckin’ moaning,” he pants, fucking against her. His eyes almost roll back and his balls tighten in his pants.

“Baby—“

Slapping a hand over her mouth, she tries to keep quiet … and from cumming.

Backing up just an inch, he instead holds her by her waist and bounces her hard against him. She almost wails, her pussy craving to be filled.

But her torture ends soon as the elevator dings again, announcing their arrival to the eleventh floor. They waste no time getting out and making their way to his front door. 

When they come to it, he hands her his keys as he remains behind her. She almost fumbles them, her hands shaking.

He grabs onto her hips again, gripping tightly.

“Hurry up … you’on feel that?”

The gravel of his voice makes her shiver, and the way his dick is pressed into her ass almost makes her eyes roll back.

His face drops into the crook of her neck and shoulder to press a kiss into her warm skin.

“He missed you, baby.”

The slight slur in his voice drives her crazy. But, not more than the way he presses his hips harder against her.

Click, the door goes as she finally unlocks it. The rush of air that hits them as she pushes it open is refreshing. It clears her senses for just half-a-second before her brain is plunged back into a hot pool of lust.

Ajani’s got his hands on her, spinning her around to press a wet kiss onto her lips. A heavy moan slips out of her as he squeezes her throat.

He sucks on her tongue like it’s his only lifeline, enjoying the taste of her spit too much.

His free hand encircles her waist and heads down to grip as much fat as it could.

The burn of his grip has her clenching in her panties. He pulls out of the kiss just to look her in the eyes.

“Take this stupid ass dress off before I rip it.”

His grip on her throat tightens and she feels herself go dumb a little bit. She nods.

He lets go of her completely, just to watch her pull the black dress over her head. 

All she’s got on is that tiny ass, pink G-string, no bra. The fabric is drenched with a wet stain as it clings to her. And her lips are damn near spilling out of it.

“Not even gonna be able to walk when I done with you,” he mumbles, staring at her as he squeezes his dick through his pants.

“Wait, I wanna do something else first.”

Diamanté’s gaze drops to the hard outline of his dick—so thick and long.

“Yeah?” He looks at her with low eyes, paying keen attention to the outline of her fat pussy. “What you tryna do?”

She starts towards him, walking slow. 

“I wanna suck it.”

His brows lift as an inkling of a smile is on his lips. “Oh, word?”

“Yeah.”

She stops right before him. A gentle push to his chest sends a big enough of message—he falls back onto his couch. And his eyes follow her as she gets down on her knees before him.

She crawls to him, sitting between his legs. Even pushes them apart wider. He almost shivers at her delicate touch on his knees.  

“Would you let me?”

She blinks up at him as her hands snake their way up his thighs and into his lap. He slips further down into the couch, biting his lip as he watches her undo his pants for the second time tonight.

She gets a peek of those grills again, and she just finds them so sexy.

“Awe shit, baby, you could do whatever you want…”

His aid comes as he lifts his hips as she drags the heavy denim down his legs. Drunken giggles pour out from her lips as she eyes his print through his boxers.

Even through the thin fabric, the familiar heat of her palm makes his dick twitch. He has to stop himself from humping into her hand as she grips along his length.

Her laughter melts away as she watches his face with a luring smile. 

“You’re so wet, baby.”

He almost doesn’t even hear her soft voice. But when he does, he looks down and notices the dark spot on his boxers.

“Shit … that’s all you,” he mumbles. His eyes bore into her as she pulls him out of his underwear.

He’s stiff and heavy in her hand. Her smaller fingers squeeze him just a bit tighter, a weak attempt at trying to get a better grip on him. 

It amuses him, seeing how the tips of her fingers don’t even meet when they’re around him.

The warmth blossoming under his skin goads her to run a fist over his length.

“You know how to do it?” he asks her.

She nods before looking back up at him. Looking into his eyes, she can tell that he’s fighting to stay present.

But with the liquor in both their systems, and lust running through their bodies, she can understand how difficult that must be for him.

“You don’t gotta … take it all,” he swallows.

His thigh twitches; Her tongue laves against the underside of the warm, soft tip. She holds him as she circles her tongue around the head, shining it with her spit. 

“Fuck,” he hisses softly, body melting into the couch cushions.

She brushes her tongue against him, picking up a perfect bead of precum just as it dribbles out.

He inhales, shifting in the seat. “Spit on my shit.”

Puckering her lips, she spits it back out on his tip and spreads it across his skin.

“Yeah,” he breathes out.

Holding him at the base, she takes his head back into her mouth. His stomach swoops and his breath stutters. 

Diamanté almost giggles, feeling his tip pulse in her mouth. She pulls off of him with a pop. 

She repeats the action a couple of more times, going pop … pop … pop! She enjoys too much how he groans above her.

“Stop playing, baby, c’mon.”

The sound of him begging makes her clit pulse. 

“Okay, okay,” she says softly, batting her lashes up at him.

Taking a deep inhale, she places her mouth back over the head. Slackening her jaw, she slowly descends his length.

“Awe … shiii,” he stares down at her in shock.

Already, her jaw aches, having to accommodate his size. She gets about halfway.

“Mmmh.”

The vibration of her hums make his toes curl. He jumps with a hiss. The movement gags her, and the sound only arouses him.

“T-take your time, baby—“ he grunts. “You don’t gotta—“

He chokes on his own words as he watches her continue to swallow him with a bit of effort. The sight has him clutching the couch cushions.

Her throat constricts around his dick as she bottoms out. She nuzzles her nose against the small bush of dark curls at his base.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, shifting his hips a bit.

Her eyes flutter close as she relishes the heavy weight her throat holds. His dick twitches, pulling a soft gag out of her.

He loves the sound.

Spit seeps from her mouth, dripping down his length. Trying to swallow around him is difficult.

Carefully, she lays her head against his open lap. She exhales through her nose, trying to relax as she suckles on him.

It’s almost addicting, having his dick stuff her mouth to the brim. She’s content … until she remembers her own arousal.

Her knees burn, but nevermind that. She brings a hand between her thick thighs, whimpering as she caresses herself.

The pads of her fingers slide back and forth over the soaked scrap of fabric covering her pussy.

Her thighs clench around her wrist. But still, she continues, sliding the tips of her acrylic nails against her aching pearl.

He watches her eyes open for just a second, only to showcase how they roll back. Her shoulders twitch.

“You touchin’ yourself?”

She barely nods as another twitch rakes throughout her body.

The already wet patch of her panties grows warmer as she leaks more arousal. Her fingers rub harder and her pussy spasms.

“Mmh—“

She whines around his dick, and his hips stutter.

“So fuckin’ nasty,” he groans. “Like my dick in your mouth.”

Another whimper.

Peeling a hand from the armrest of the couch, Ajani reaches for her straightened hair and gathers it in a tight ponytail.

“Relax your throat,” is his only warning.

Long, slow strokes have her gagging on him. The back or her throat makes wet clicks as his dick fucks the back of her throat.

Tears bubble in Diamanté’s eyes as her head bobs. Shaky fingers push her soaked panties to the side as she rubs through her sticky, creamy folds.

“Look so fuckin’ good like this,” he says through gritted teeth. 

She plays in her mess, webs of cream sticking to the pads of her fingers and her pink clit.

His hold around her hair tightens and his pace quickens. Her gags become harsher and louder as he face-fucks her.

A squeal sounds at the back of her throat as she DJs herself quickly. Her chest stutters as it gets harder to breathe with her choking on him. 

Her body tightens then releases; She sprays against her fingers and the hardwood floor. The hard stream catches his ears, making him sit up to watch.

The whites of her eyes are the only things that show as she cups herself between her legs.

A gooey mess of her spit and his precum drip down his balls and even her face, droplets falling on her bare chest.

“Shit, baby … awe shit,” he groans, head thrown back and mouth dropped open.

His stomach clenches as his brows pull together.

“I’m bout’a … c-cum—fuck.”

He pushes her head all the way down, holding her there as he fucks up into her. She tightens her throat around him, sending him over the edge.

Ropes of cum shoot down her throat, sending her pulling off of him in a coughing fit. 

When she calms, she pulls her hand from between her shaking thighs. It’s messy with the remnants of her cream and squirt.

She wraps it around him and spits his cum back on his dick.

It’s a bubbly, frothy mess. She jerks him off, milking him for the rest of his release as she mixes their cum and her spit together.

“So fuckin’ dirty,” he rasps, his body sagging against the chair.

The squelches of her fist over his dick is music to their ears. Her hand glides with ease as she squeezes him tighter.

“Beatin’ my shit so good.”

Breathy laughter pours out of her as she sticks out her tongue and flattens it. Staring into his low eyes, she taps his dick against the bed of her tongue.

She slides the pink muscle against him before flicking it twice against his leaky slit. He shivers beneath her, and she feeds off the reaction.

Taking his head back into her mouth, she sucks on it with her lips as she digs out his slit with her tongue.

He’s a whining mess as she overstimulates him.

“Fuck baby … fuuuck baby—fuck babyy—“

Ajani’s head falls back against the cushions and his eyes roll back. He opens his mouth to cry out:

“F-fuuuuuck—“

Lifting from him quickly, she taps him against her tongue as he erupts. His cum paints the pink muscle in white ropes.

“So good,” she hums, still tugging at him.

His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath and calm his beating heart. His ears ring and his vision’s got dots.

It takes him too long to return back to earth, as if she had hard reset him. 

But, that’s not where their night ends—far from it, actually.

[tojiwrd]

the consequences of the voice in your head ; toji fushiguro

pairing toji fushiguro x fem!reader

summary it was easy to love toji but, sometimes, it was difficult to make peace with loving toji.

word count 4k

content warnings angstyyy, hurt/no comfort kind of, open ending kind of, grieving, self-loathing, comparing, lots of overthinking. toji's a good good dad, megumi's a lil ice hockey kid, naoya and toji r civil and almost friendly cousins in this

Breaking habits was difficult. Waking up on a Monday at seven in the morning was difficult. Love was difficult. These were all things you knew, and they always lingered in the back of your mind ready to put their claws into any thought that questioned why? Daybreak came and went everyday, sunlight got chased away by silver streams of moonlight, and these thoughts—no, facts—remained asleep, waiting for the moment to pounce onto the occasional question that flitted across your mind: why was love difficult?

You knew there was no true answer; there was no prose you could read written by a qualified doctor on WebMD that told you exactly why love was difficult. It just was. You could ask friends, family, and even strangers on the street and they could give you an answer that, in their own circumstance, ranging from calm to increasingly tumultuous, was true. But you could never get an answer for yourself from anybody but yourself. Perhaps breaking habit was difficult for Toji Fushiguro because he had learned that love—not the fleeting kind that you have when you meet a one-night-stand and immediately feel like the stars had aligned that night for the two of you, only to feel near to nothing for them until they turn into a silly anecdote—could only happen once, with one person. 

For you, breaking habits was difficult because when you were thirteen, your friend handed you a cigarette and said once you get used to it, it’s akin to the feeling of laying on your bed and the duvet is warm to the bone on a chilly day. 

Waking up on a Monday at seven in the morning was difficult for you probably because as soon as your eyes flickered open, you would see Toji staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows with a rueful look on his features. The first time you’d seen this image was the morning after you, Toji, and little Megumi Fushiguro moved into your new place. It brought a smile to your face, the kind of smile that is only worn by a person when they admire somebody when they aren’t looking. That was until he opened his palms and stared down at his fingers, right hand coming up to softly brush the empty ring finger. He’d bit his lip slightly, and you just about missed him from seeing you awake, before he reached down to the pocket of his plaid blue sleep shorts you’d gifted him and pulled out a ring—the ring, you’d realized—and placed it on the empty finger he was focused on. 

You had beat yourself up over witnessing him having a moment as private as that for the next week without his knowledge, but there was truly no way to bring it up to him afterwards organically. 

You could say, “Hey! I actually saw you put on your ring from your last marriage on your finger that morning when you thought I was asleep.” But that would, in nearly every case, not go down well.

Toji had told you, though, why this had grown into a Monday morning ritual. Well, he didn’t exactly tell you that he woke up a few minutes before you to reminisce about his late wife and their marriage, but you’d put the pieces together like you always did. Apparently, Toji’s late wife would always wake up early on Monday mornings and prepare an otherworldly breakfast for herself, Toji, and Megumi; she claimed it started off the week right, and it always made four-year-old Megumi more inclined to wake up on Mondays. In hindsight, perhaps it was silly that you clung onto that little tidbit Toji had told you in passing when Megumi brought it up, but when you saw him wake up on Monday mornings and start his day off by playing a video reel encased in his mind of Megumi’s mother, Megumi, and himself, it was difficult for you to feel comfortable by your presence around him on Mondays. Still, it was hardly Toji’s fault for missing somebody he’d spent years with who got taken away from his life so suddenly. 

You were just overthinking like you always did.

A Thursday in late June marked one year since you had been living with Toji. A year of going to sleep next to him and waking up with him there. It was a silly anniversary, and you weren’t going to mention it for it would most likely garner confused looks from the Fushiguro’s, but you still decided to cover the dining table with a variety of well-enjoyed foods between the three of you. 

There was a small photo-frame that stood in an arbitrary corner of the table where nobody sat. It was a small, old digital camera picture of you, Toji, and Megumi on a lake and camping trip your friends had dragged the three of you to. It was simple; Toji was sitting on a log, five-year-old Megumi between his legs who grinned wildly with a s’more in his hand, and you sat next to Toji with your head leaning on his shoulder. Your friend had gifted it to you on a random Tuesday, and when you smiled so wide at her, she embarrassedly brushed you off and said, “The person who printed this said there’s a discount if I get two pictures printed for the price of one. I just thought the picture of me and my husband would look good with you and your… Toji.”

Neither Toji nor Megumi had seen the picture. Well, not until the moment Toji walked in with a sweaty Megumi wearing his junior league hockey uniform. Megumi was babbling about the delicious smell until he saw the new addition to the table (after cooing at the takoyaki from his favorite restaurant and telling his father he knew he could smell it while they pulled into the driveway) and picked up the frame with his growing, stubby fingers.

“Is this from Lake Ashi?” he asked excitedly, eyes tracing every corner of the picture as if he was recounting the exact moment it was taken. When you nodded, he said, “I had such a good time there!”

You smiled, and ruffled his dark locks before retracting your hand and saying, “Go shower!”

He stuck out his tongue at you before he ran upstairs, saying something about how nobody can start eating until he’s back. 

You walked to Toji who was watching the scene play out from the other end of the table and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Hey, how was your day?” You grinned slightly as your body melted against his frame, a strange sense of euphoria enveloping you even though you’d only been apart for a day.

His arms wrapped around your waist and he bent down slightly to peck your lips. “Thrilling. I watched a bunch of seven-year-olds run around ice with sticks longer than them.”

“Sounds like a fun time,” you replied, nuzzling into his chest, right against the soft thumping of his heartbeats.

“What’s the good food for today?” he asked, stepping away from your hold and scanning the dishes on the table with a puzzled expression.

You smiled teasingly. “Why? Do I not make good food everyday?”

He snorted, and you concluded that the way he looked at you then was with love. The usual deep set of his brows were relaxed as he reached over to you and flicked you on the forehead. Lovingly. “I cook all the meals because the last time you tried, there was a fire alarm and the entire building had to evacuate.” He paused, staring at you while you opened your mouth to stop him from continuing. He beat you to it, though, by saying, “At four in the morning, too.”

“Me and Megs wanted a late-night-snack,” you argued playfully, slapping his bicep. 

“That you ended up getting in a 24 hour convenience store after running the entirety of the fire department and residents wild.”

“Semantics,” you brushed him off. Walking over to the plates, you started scooping portions and placing it on the plate until you remembered Megumi’s demand.

Your body unconsciously carried you to the photo frame and you picked it up, smiling slightly. Toji walked to stand beside you, his eyes uncharacteristically focused on the slightly overexposed picture. His fingers reached to pull it out of your hands and you didn’t stop him when he walked to the small ledge above the (fake) fireplace to place it between the small collection of Megumi photographs. It was a small gesture, but it was more than you could ever ask for.

Your mind skipped over the fact that all the other photos on the ledge were either taken by Megumi’s mother (five of them were) or had her in them holding Megumi (two of them did). Although whenever your friends had come over to your place, they’d cautiously asked you if you truly are OK with keeping pictures of his late wife in your living room and you’d always said that you were perfectly fine with it. Honestly, it was never your intention to erase her from their lives because, after all, she was Toji’s wife and Megumi’s mother. There was no erasing her, and that was fine whether or not you had a place in their lives.

When you came home from work the next evening, the house was relatively quiet. 

You walked into the living room, feet aching from having to wear short-stump heels but, still, heels all day. Every single day at your job as an editor for a magazine made you question whether or not you truly had the skill to walk around heels, even short-stump ones. But once again, the feeling of taking them off with delicacy because you were afraid the rough insides would scrape the parts of your skin your sock didn’t cover gave you a feeling of triumph. You were convinced that the day you come home without the visceral urge to shred the dark pieces of footwear into pieces would be the day you could claim you were invincible. 

You didn’t call out to Toji because you figured he was probably with Megumi, shopping and whatnot, doing simple father-son activities. He hadn’t texted you all day, and the little demon slithering through your thoughts wanted you to overthink (like you always did) and go berserk. But you had learned to tame that little demon (severely distracting yourself by doing anything and everything).

When you had changed out of your work clothes, showered under a moderately warm stream of water, and thoroughly washed your face to stave away the office particles, you sat down on the couch expecting a text from Toji. It was nine in the evening, and it was dark outside. He had never gone this long in a day without dropping you a text, even if it was just a word, and you weren’t wrong for expecting it. Breaking habits was difficult.

When you scrolled through your missed notifications and scrolled past your friends’ messages, making a mental compartment in your mind to reply to them later, you were surprised to find that Toji had, in fact, not texted you but Naoya Zen’in had. Toji’s cousin. It was simple, short, lighthearted, and it read:

missed you today!

It could have been Naoya texting the wrong person (it wouldn’t be the first time) but an itch in your mind told you it wasn’t.

??

It was simple, short, and lighthearted. You were surprised at how quickly the bubbles appeared on his side of the chat; you barely had time to exit the screen before he’d replied:

the stupid zen’in dinner is boring without you there to annoy toji

he said you were feeling sick tho. feel better

It was rude not to reply, but it was ruder for you to find out this way. Find out what, exactly? That Toji had simply not wanted you to go to the once-in-a-while Zen’in family dinner you had been to a grand total of one time. That was one incident you always pushed to the back of your mind—something you couldn’t do with the Monday morning incident(s) because they always played out in front of you, never missing a week—because if you thought about it too much, you would end up shattering your entire heart and it would all be your own, unstoppable mind’s doing.

Toji wasn’t the one to invite you to dinner last year. Surprisingly, the callous cousin who had manifested in the form of a breaker of peace today was the one to invite you. Your boyfriend had his jaw clenched throughout the entire interaction, and you were sure it was because Naoya wasn’t meant to meet you. You had been at his apartment while Megumi was in school to spend time with him when Naoya burst into his cousin’s home through the spare emergency key Toji had hesitantly given him. It started with Toji yelling at his cousin that it is actually rude to barge into someone’s house without knocking and that the rule applied even if they were cousins and yes, it still applied after they had come closer after being distant and despising each other their entire childhoods. It progressed to you making tea for Naoya that burnt his tongue and Toji telling him that you are no good with anything that heats up. It ended with Naoya bringing up the dinner and how he, too, was introducing his girlfriend (now his wife) to the family and it would be lovely for you to be there, too. He’d said something about divided fire.

The dinner itself was what you could call pleasant. You met his family and they were as civil as they could be surrounded by many people who are related to them. The entire time, though, Toji was bouncing his leg up and down and brushed off your hand when you tried to stop him. 

You do remember his mother had said something to you that ticked Toji off, and it wouldn’t take a mastermind to figure out why. 

“You’re the perfect girl to have as a daughter-in-law, dear.”

Truthfully, you hadn’t realized that Toji would see her words and level its severity higher than you would. That was why after the longest hand of the clock ticked thrice and his chair scraped against the floor when he stood up and walked away wordlessly, you were shocked.

You assumed that, today, Naoya had taken his wife to the Zen’in dinner. You could have texted her to confirm, but you knew. And you weren’t sure if you had any right to be mad at Toji over this. 

When you walked over to the television next to the (fake) fireplace, you noticed something missing. You knew it was missing because despite it only having been a day, you had looked at the picture of the three of you on that ledge for so long the night before when Megumi was fast asleep and Toji was immersed in a book and the image of the scene had been ingrained into your mind. It was somewhere beside the habits, Mondays, and love compartment. 

The picture wasn’t there.

And the only trace in the living room of you being a part of Toji and Megumi’s life had vanished as soon as it materialized. It was just a picture, but it was the first one that you had brought out in the house. Toji was the one to keep it between the other pictures, and he was the one who took it off, too. You understood second-thoughts, and you knew he probably had strong feelings about it but it still hurt. It was akin to being handed candy as a kid then having it taken away from you after the first bite.

You had been heartbroken before, but the way your heart sank into a cold abyss was a feeling you had never experienced before. You weren’t sure if this was your heart breaking or the tendrils of a boyfriend-girlfriend argument sowing its way into the universe and you were just the first to realize it. It had been a year and a day in this apartment you were convinced turned into a home over that time. A year and a day since you and Megumi began collecting stickers from the different stores you went to and stuck to the corners of his whiteboard. A year and a day since you and Toji woke up with each other in the same room after a night of you tossing and turning, coming to almost-there consciousness when Toji would steal the blanket back from you and pull you into his warm embrace because you had a tendency to hog it. 

The door clicked and you weren’t sure when you had gone back to the couch and began wordlessly staring at the ledge. You weren’t sure when this house stopped feeling like home for you, despite your best efforts to make it one. You weren’t sure if it ever was because there were no pictures of you, Toji, and Megumi in the living room.

You barely noticed Megumi coming towards you, pressing a slobbering kiss against your cheek and mumbling, “So tired. Gonna go to bed now. Goodnight.”

When Toji was the only presence you could feel—not see, because you were sure that seeing him would ruin you when you were in this state—in the room, you continued questioning whether or not you could get upset at him over this.

So, you said simply, “I haven’t had dinner yet.”

You heard him sigh softly. When he came to sit next to you and say, “Sorry, love. ‘Gumi’s practice ran late.” You knew Toji, so you knew he probably thought it was overkill to use his son for this lie.

It was like a time bomb was ticking, and you were the time bomb. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, and he was sweet. It made you think, for a hitch of a moment, that he cared. And you knew he did. Care, you mean. Just not in the way you had convinced yourself he did. It might’ve been your fault because you always saw Toji as your boyfriend when, in harsh, world-turning reality, Toji was just your boyfriend.

You have had many boyfriends over your lifetime, so what prompted you to believe Toji was anything more serious? Just because Toji came with a past baggage that weighed just about what you could help him carry and an adorable, hockey-loving seven-year-old kid? Because he moved in with you? People move in together all the time. Hell, you lived with a girl you only spoke to when you had to make a cleaning schedule for the room back in university for a year.

“No,” you replied truthfully. 

In that moment, you were scared of how this interaction would end but you were more scared of how the words you carefully locked away in your mouth had been tampered with by some universal force and were just about to come out. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. You finally turned around to look at him, and you didn’t realize you had stared over every inch of his face, as though memorizing it to a tee. He seemed to realize that, too, because his fingers fished for your hands and suddenly your hands were warm. Under his touch. 

“I haven’t had dinner.” You were sure the words would come rampaging out of your mouth, ready to strike blows at Toji where it hurt, but you were reduced to a mere shell within now and the minute you saw Naoya’s text. 

“Baby?” he asked and it hurt. “D’you want me to make you something? I can. Whatever you want.”

“How was dinner?” you asked, and you wanted to make yourself believe you weren’t waiting for a ‘ha, got you!’ moment, but you weren’t perfect. 

“We just stopped by the convenience store to get some food.” You hated that he was lying because if you didn’t know the truth, you’d believe him. Toji, you realized, was good at lying. 

“Naoya texted me,” you said, shaking your head as if you were trying to get rid of any thoughts.

“What?”

“Naoya texted me. Said he missed me at dinner.” At this point, you knew Toji could see the cracks in your facade. 

Toji didn’t reply for a moment, and you felt like you both were blessed with the silence you needed for a moment. You weren’t prepared, you didn’t have a set of bullet points you wanted to discuss with him like you usually did when you were at odds. No, this time you were discussing everything you always omitted from those bullet point lists; they were off-the-table because you knew they would do more harm than good. They would break the cycle of a comfortable relationship. 

“I didn’t think you wanted to go,” he said, sighing as he squeezed your hands lightly. 

You exhaled sharply. “Please don’t lie, Toji.”

“I mean it—”

“Please don’t lie.” If you weren’t aware of Megumi upstairs, you probably would’ve raised your voice an octave higher. Just because you felt like you had to. But as you pleaded with him, your words came out soft, delicate, and a complete contrast to the red, hot, fiery anger taking space through your veins. 

“I didn’t want you to go,” he admitted.

You had never been stabbed, but you were sure this is close to what it would feel like. “Why?” you croaked out. 

“My family, they’d start asking about when we’ll get married and… yeah. Jus’ didn’t want the hassle.”

“Will we?” You didn’t think before you spoke. 

“What?”

“Get married.”

“What?”

You changed the topic swiftly because truly, you didn’t care about getting married to Toji. As long as you had him and he had you. “Where’s the picture, Toji?”

“What picture?” Surprisingly, he sounded almost OK with talking to you and didn’t curl into himself like he usually did whenever topics such as this almost arose. Almost, because they never completely did. 

You felt like you were breaking an unwritten rule. 

“You know what picture.”

“I kept it in the room, Y/N,” he said, sounding as though he was treading carefully. As though you were a hibernating bear, ready to pounce. 

This shouldn’t be hard. Love shouldn’t—

“Why?” you whispered, closing your eyes as you felt the salty wetness build up. 

He didn’t respond, and you weren’t patient. 

“Why, Toji?—”

“Because it didn’t belong there.”

You wanted to laugh. He might as well have kicked you and knocked the air out of your lungs because the latter did happen. You found it hard to breathe under his stare, his nostrils flaring in annoyance the way they did. 

You didn’t want to ask why, because you knew why. You understood why, and you wished you could be blind to human emotion, to human flaws and errors because it would be a lot easier to walk away from this with the feeling that he was wrong and you were right.

When you stood up, your joined hands pulled away, too. If you weren’t as cynical as you were in that moment, you probably would’ve thought it was symbolic. Because a part of you was slowly pulling away from him, too. And love can be hard, you realized and accepted once again, but it doesn’t have to be dealt with all the time. 

You weren’t sure if you could continue fighting constantly with the thoughts inside your head just so you could feel that Toji is here because he wants to be, and he’s not doing it while comparing you to his late wife. It was difficult to feel you being pushed away from him and his son’s life, even though it happened in the form of a photo frame from a small printing store. But maybe, just maybe, love shouldn’t be harder than you can handle. 

“Do I belong here, Toji?” you asked, a sad smile forming on your lips. 

[tenjikufag]

Hello!! Hi I really love your stories. Uhm if I can ask, can you do a fluff of Dr ratio from honkai star rail x male reader. Once again I love your stories and creativity. <3<3<3

Let’s look at the stars.

Dr. Ratio x male reader

- Fluff, no warnings

-note, I apologize for ooc content (I’m not all too familiar with this character.)

“-immense pressures and temperatures in the star's core squeeze the nuclei of hydrogen atoms together to form helium, a process called nuclear fusion…”

Late nights spent listening to your partners current interest were quite common, you loved to hear him speak with such enthusiasm.. he was in his element and you couldn’t be more happy to be the person he chooses, time and time again, to share it with.

This time, his current studying led him to the stars. Many dumb them down to dead balls of gas, but to him they were so much more. Even if he wasn’t all that big on sentimental things, something about the stars only showing their bright beauty after dying- it moved him in a way.

The two of you laid under the stars, only giving him hums in response to assure him that you were listening. Not that you could ever get a word in, he kept explaining his findings and moving his hands outwards to point to the many constellations, the pathways, which stars had names and what they meant..

“Did you know stars don’t actually twinkle? The proper phrase for it would be scintillate, which only happens when they find themselves among the horizon..”

“Then where do you think the phrase came from?”

Glancing over at him, his lip curled into a smile at the question.. he didn’t have an answer for that, it was more of a metaphorical phrase and the ties to such a phrase would be as endless as a black hole. So, he only smiled and half-heartedly brushed off not knowing such an answer.

“Oh? The doctor doesn’t have an answer?”

The male chuckled, turning his head to look at you with a soft smile.

“Hm, although I know you ask in jest..”

You watched as he sat up, moving to hover his head just above yours.

“Let me conduct a.. study if you will..”

The love in his eyes reflected your own. Nodding, you let him instruct you.

Grabbing your hand, he held it firmly in his own and pressed it into his chest. He then instructed you to close your eyes and timed you to keep them shut for a few seconds.

“Now open..”

You felt his breathe on your lips, noses almost touching but he kept a strong gaze into your pupils.. he watched as they dilated and how they..

Twinkled.

Satisfied, he laughed to himself

“Just as I thought..”

He moved to straddle your waist, now holding both of your hands and again dipped down to closely watch your eyes and how the stars reflected in your irises.

“The term "twinkling stars" is derived from the Old English word "twincan," which means "to twinkle or blink.”

Sitting up, he found himself staring back up at the sky to observe the stars align and glancing down back to your eyes to see how the light refracted..

“This term was likely used to describe the flickering or shimmering appearance of stars in the night sky, which is caused by the Earth's atmosphere…”

Your body followed his, chests pressed against one another and arms now wrapped around his slim waist.

“Is that actually true? Or are you simply making things up again?”

He laughed, clasping your face in his hands in delight.

“It’s true dear, don’t think I didn’t account for such a question from you. I’m honestly.. quite flattered you’d think I could lie to you about such an intimate thing..”

Intimate?

“I see those gears turning, Y/n. Stars are seen as signs of affection by many people, looking up to see the same stars their loved ones are seeing or maybe even looking for their lover among them..”

His smile faltered, the gaze he held no longer as strong. You felt his lips plant themselves on you. Smiling into the kiss, he pushed you back to lay on the plush grass beneath you- hands moving to hold your neck and caress his fingers along your jaw. When he pulled away, an uncharacteristic bashful blush covered his cheeks..

“Even though my study was fruitful, and I quite enjoyed it..”

Lips met yours again, but for a small loving peck

“I must say.. I enjoy studying these ‘twinkling’ stars in your eyes much more..”

He left one more chaste kiss on your lips before sliding off of you, returning to his spot beside you.

The man would learn everything through you if he could, but to use his studying to show his adoration to you was something he’d never thought would be possible- it never crossed his mind before you came into his life.

He’d study a million stars if he got to see them in your eyes.

I really hope this was okay, and not too ooc- thank you for the request!

[chvoswxtch]

take the day off

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: after an intense night with your bodyguard, a new revelation completely changes your perception of him, and your feelings along with it.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of blood & violence

word count: 3.5k

a/n: first of all, thank you so much to @lowkeythor for the request that inspired this whole series! & thank you so much to everyone that enjoyed the first part and wanted more. i’m still figuring out exactly what I wanna do with this series as far as how many parts it will be, but it will definitely be a slow burn! as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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Dozens of stars intermittently twinkled against the backdrop of a deep sapphire night sky. Some of them were aligned in perfect constellations you couldn’t remember the names of. The moon was nowhere in sight, but its glow still lingered through the glass of your window. The rest of your room was dark apart from the light peaking through beneath your door from the hallway. Sleep had evaded you for the past twenty minutes, and the lull didn’t seem to be coming any time soon.

Turning over onto your back, you closed your eyes as you let out a deep sigh. The events of the night flashed behind your eyelids like a home movie on a projector, and you wished you could cut some parts from the reel. You could almost still feel the warmth of Frank’s body as he’d held you in the living room, the firmness of his chest beneath his shirt, the rough pads of his fingers dancing along the exposed skin on your back. 

Tonight was the most he had ever spoken to you since he’d been hired. It completely changed your perception of him. Initially you’d thought he was a bit of a dick. He was always quiet, never spoke more than he had to, and the only emotions he seemed capable of expressing were anger, annoyance, and any variations of those two. But tonight you’d seen him smile, granted it was tiny and fleeting, but God it was a beautiful sight. You wondered what he looked like when he really smiled, teeth and all. You also wondered if his lips were as soft as they looked.

Stop it.

You were being ridiculous. He was your bodyguard. He was hired to protect you. Everything he did for you tonight was because it was his job, not because he liked you. Even if it wasn’t totally unacceptable and unethical for you two to have anything other than a professional relationship, any slight chance you ever had with Frank Castle went completely out the window tonight. Maybe tipsy you couldn’t be trusted after all. 

A sound from outside your room had you stilling completely, and your ears instantly perked up. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you quietly got out of bed and silently made your way across the room to the door, placing your ear against the door to get a better listen. It sounded like drawers were being shuffled and cabinets were being searched in the bathroom at the end of the hall.

Frank.

Carefully twisting the knob on your door, you pulled it back slowly and peaked out into the hall. Your brows knit together curiously seeing that the guest room across the hall from yours was open, but empty. Turning your head slightly, you saw the bathroom door was open and the light was on, but there wasn’t a sign of Frank at all.

The events from earlier tonight came flooding back all at once, and your fingers trembled slightly as they gripped onto the door knob.

“Frank?”

Heavy boots thudded against ceramic tile, and Frank immediately appeared in the doorway of the bathroom. He must have heard the nerves in your voice because his eyes darted between you and the hallway as if he was searching for something, finally settling his gaze back on you.

“Yeah?”

A sigh of relief left your lips and you let your head rest against your bedroom door as you took a moment to gather yourself. Catching his eyes again, you shook your head slightly as you gave him a timid smile.

“Just…making sure that was you.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t. I was still awake. Um…are you looking for something?”

“Yeah, I was tryin’ to find a first aid kit. Thought I had one in my truck. You got one?”

“Are you hurt?”

“Nah, just gotta wrap this.”

Frank briefly held up his right hand and the motion immediately caught your attention. It looked like he had washed all of the blood off his hands, but his knuckles were still stained crimson. A slight pout formed on your lips as you fully pushed open your bedroom door, making your way down the hall towards him. Without thinking, you carefully picked up his wrist and placed his hand in your palm to inspect it. You couldn’t tell what to focus on first; the size of his hand compared to yours or the damage that was a result of your selfishness.

“Frank-”

“It ain’t as bad as it looks.”

“Are we looking at the same thing?”

Lifting your gaze up to meet his, you sucked in a quick breath noticing how close you were to him again.

And that he had undone a few buttons on his shirt.

“I’ve had worse.”

Quickly dropping your gaze back to his hand and hoping you hadn’t been caught staring, you nodded slowly and gently tugged at his wrist.

“I have one in my bathroom. Come on.”

Frank didn’t budge at all when you tried to tug him along. Instead he gave a shake of his head and pulled his wrist from your grasp.

“If you can just grab it for me, I got it.”

“Frank, this is all my fault. Please let me fix it.”

“It really ain’t-”

“Please?”

Frank started down at you silently for a moment, glancing down at his hand before searching your eyes again. He parted his lips to let out a deep exhale as he turned his head to the side, eyes drifting over the bathroom before finally nodding and gesturing towards the hall.

“Alright, fine.”

As he sat down on the toilet seat so that you could be somewhat even in height, it occurred to you that Frank had never been in your bedroom before, which he had to go through to get to your bathroom. A tiny piece of you panicked, not even remembering if it was clean or not, hoping you hadn’t left anything laying around like a bra, or God forbid something worse. After you retrieved the first aid kit from under the sink and opened it on the counter, you grabbed a packet that contained an alcohol wipe and tore it open. 

“This is gonna sting.”

Frank only grunted in response. Wrapping your fingers around his wrist lightly, you dabbed as delicately as you could at the wounds covering Frank’s knuckles. Out of the corner of your eye you saw his jaw clench, and you quietly whispered an apology as you tried to disinfect it as quickly as possible. Your brows furrowed as you studied the angry flesh that was split unevenly.

“Is that normal?”

“What?”

“For this to happen. They almost look swollen.”

“You hit somethin’ hard enough, yeah. They’ll go down.”

You hit something hard enough.

A brief glimpse of that man’s mangled face popped into your head and it made you shudder. Swallowing thickly, you pulled out another packet of antibiotic cream and grabbed a q-tip from a jar on your counter. You delicately applied it to each of his knuckles, making sure they were evenly coated.

“You don’t know how to hit?”

Glancing up from Frank’s hand, you shot him a puzzled look as a breathless laugh escaped your mouth.

“If I did, I wouldn’t need you.”

Frank’s eyes narrowed slightly at your comment, and you shook your head as you smiled to yourself and reached for a packet of gauze.

“No Frank, I don’t know how. I’ve never hit someone before. I’ve never even slapped someone before.”

His eyes followed your every move as you threaded the gauze bandage carefully between each of his fingers to wrap his hand. Once you were satisfied with your work, you closed the first aid kit and pulled a bottle of advil out of your cabinet to set on the counter in front of him.

“I know you probably don’t need it, because you’re very tough, but I’m formally requesting you take it for my sake. And to help reduce the swelling.”

Frank’s eyes drifted from the bottle up to meet yours, a dry scoff leaving his lips as he shook his head at the tiny smirk covering your mouth. Running his tongue along his bottom lip, he motioned his head towards the bottle and looked up at you with the faintest of playful smiles curling at the corner of his lips.

“You mind openin’ that? See, someone got my hand all fucked up tonight. I ain’t supposed to be usin’ it, doc’s orders.”

“Oh, you caught my doctorate on the way in? I was hoping you’d notice.”

“Yeah, any other secret talents you hidin’?”

“A few. Gotta keep you on your toes, Castle.”

Dropping two pills into Frank’s uninjured hand, you placed the bottle back into your cabinet and stowed the first aid kit back beneath the sink. You motioned with your finger for him to follow you, thankful your back was to him as you tried to contain your giddiness as you led him to the kitchen. Frank never entertained your banter before. He never gave in to your questions or attempts to pull him out of his ironclad shell, and you weren’t sure why he was tonight, but you definitely weren’t complaining. Maybe tipsy you was right. Maybe you should cause a little bit more trouble sometimes.

Pulling a glass from the cabinet, you filled it with water and handed it to Frank. His fingers lightly grazed yours as he took the glass from you, motioning it in your direction as a signal of thanks before popping the pills into his mouth and downing half the water. You pulled open the freezer door and pulled out an ice pack, holding it out for him.

“Again, I know you probably don’t need this, but I’m making another formal request.”

“These uh, formal requests, I’m allowed to say no?”

“I don’t think there is anyone in this world that could make you do something you don’t wanna do, but I am a doctor, so.”

“Hard to argue with that. I mean you did go to-”

“Fancy doctor school.”

“Right, right. So bein’ a journalist, that’s…?”

“A cover.”

“Course. Makes sense.”

Frank guzzled the rest of the water and placed the glass in the sink, taking the ice pack with an exasperated sigh as he placed it over his hand and held it up in your direction to check your satisfaction. A soft smile took over your lips, and in a moment of vulnerability you found yourself feeling immensely grateful for his presence.

“Thank you.”

“You’re the doc.”

“No, I meant…for staying and…being so…so nice to me tonight. I um…I really appreciate you being here. I really didn’t wanna be alone.”

Whatever playful flame was dancing around in Frank’s eyes was immediately extinguished by your words, and he abruptly stood up a little straighter. He looked down at his hand and grabbed the ice pack, motioning it in your direction.

“Thanks for uh, fixin’ me up and all.”

“Thanks for letting me.”

Frank gave a slight nod of his head, making a low sound in the back of his throat in response. For a moment you both stood there silently, unsure of what to say to one another next. He cleared his throat as he looked everywhere around the kitchen but at you.

“You should get some sleep.”

A slight pang of disappointment cut through you as you realized whatever moment you two had been having was gone. The Frank you were used to was back, and he was throwing that barricade right back up.

“Right. So should you.”

You turned before he could see the despondency in your eyes, hearing the weight of his boots on the floor as he followed behind you down the hall. Stopping at your bedroom door, you did your best to appear neutral as you turned to face him and gestured towards the guest room.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks.”

“Okay. Well, um…goodnight, again.”

“Night.”

No sweetheart this time. Guess it was nice while it lasted.

Forcing a tight lipped smile, you slipped back into your bedroom and closed the door. Resting your forehead against the cool wood, you closed your eyes and let out a deep breath as you heard the door to the guest room shut. 

It was going to be a really long night.

»»———　　———««

A good two hours had passed since your second interaction with Frank. Time seemed to pass like amber sap oozing from a wounded tree, trickling down languidly every time you checked the clock. You had overanalyzed every second, every word, every little movement, and you couldn’t figure out what exactly had caused Frank to shift so quickly. It was driving you absolutely insane, and you kept talking yourself out of getting up to wake him to ask him what the hell his problem was.

On one hand, Frank didn’t owe you anything. He didn’t have to be nice to you. He didn’t have to be here with you. He didn’t even technically have to speak to you. You were a job to him; nothing more, nothing less.

But if you were just a job, why was he here? Why was he being so nice to you out of the blue? Yeah, tonight had been scary for you. But it wasn’t exactly that close of a call. You weren’t in any real danger. Did he feel bad because you had cried? Why did he feel the need to comfort you? You were the one that had fucked up after all. He didn’t have to let you tend to his hand. He didn’t have to banter with you. So why did he? 

All these questions were brewing around in your head like a storm, and the one person that could answer them was right across the hall.

Fuck it.

Furiously throwing the covers off your body, you climbed out of bed and swiftly opened your bedroom door, standing face to face with the door that Frank was on the other side of in just three short steps. As you raised your fist prepared to knock hard enough to wake the dead, something in your subconscious unexpectedly halted your movements. You furrowed your brows as an uneasy feeling crept up your spine, and an image from earlier suddenly flashed in your head.

The memory of Frank standing in the bathroom with a few buttons of his shirt undone had instantly sent you into a daze, and you remembered quickly dropping your eyes before you had gotten caught staring. All at once that moment was no longer fuzzy in your head, and your brain had finally caught up enough to process the sight clearly. Frank had been wearing a chain around his neck, and there was a golden pendant hanging off of it that gleamed in the middle of his chest. 

You remembered it catching your eye, but you hadn’t gotten a chance to inspect it since you forced yourself to look away so quickly. What was it? And why was it filling you with an overwhelming sense of dread?

It almost looked like…

A wedding band.

»»———　　———««

Sleep never came. Guilt flooded your entire body the second it all clicked into place, and it had been gnawing at the pit of your stomach ever since. It was a simple, gold wedding band. It had to have been his, which meant Frank had been married. Maybe he still was. Maybe he was going through a divorce, holding onto that symbol of a promise and hoping for a different outcome. You felt like the biggest asshole on the planet for the way you had acted towards him.

Frank didn’t reject your relentless effort to get close to him because of his job or because he wasn’t into you, or…maybe he did, but it was most likely because you made him uncomfortable. Here he was just trying to do his damn job, possibly win back his wife he clearly still loved, and you were making his life hell for selfish reasons. Glancing at the clock on your phone, you let out a soft sigh as the numbers showed it was seven in the morning. Sleep was never gonna come.

As you quietly made your way past the closed guest room door and into the kitchen, you instantaneously paused when you saw Frank sitting at the dining table with a cup of coffee in his uninjured hand. He seemed just as surprised to see you as you were to see him, but he quickly covered it up with a neutral expression, leaning back in the chair and setting the cup down while he eyed you curiously.

“You’re up awful early for someone that’s gotta have a hell of a hangover.”

You didn’t know what to say to him. All you could manage was a timid apparition of a smile as you nodded and made your way towards the cabinets to grab yourself a mug. Even though your back was to him, you could practically feel his gaze boring into you as you loaded a pod into your coffee machine and pressed the button to brew. You couldn’t look at him after your revelation last night.

“How you feelin’?”

“Better than I deserve.”

Normally you were the one asking all the questions. You figured if you didn’t ask any, Frank would revert back to his normal state of being stoic and silent. But for some reason, he was the one with the questions today.

“You take somethin’? Gotta have a killer headache I reckon.”

Responding with a quiet hum, you continued to fix your coffee the way you liked, feeling suddenly lucky that the layout of your kitchen kept you from having to face him. You’d hoped your luck would continue and you’d be able to slip into your office without having to exchange another word, but it had apparently run out. You weren’t sure how you didn’t hear him getting up, but as you turned to place your spoon in the sink, he was right there in front of you staring down at you with narrowed eyes. 

“You sure you’re feelin’ alright? You’re awful quiet this mornin’.”

Anxiety thundered loudly in your chest, and you found yourself having an extremely hard time maintaining eye contact with him. Why today, of all days, had he picked to be the chatty one?

“I’m sure.”

Frank squinted slightly at the smallness of your voice. The look in his eyes told you he didn’t believe you, and you did your best to appear nonchalant as you stepped around him to place your spoon in the sink with trembling fingers. For the first time since you’d met Frank, you wanted him to leave. 

“You…um, you can go.”

“No I can’t.”

Frank’s voice was rough as it cut through your quiet kitchen. He almost sounded…aggravated? Stepping around his large figure again, you grabbed your coffee off the counter and continued to avoid making eye contact with him.

“It’s alright. I don’t plan on going anywhere today.”

“Doesn’t mean I can just leave-”

“I’m telling you that you can.”

Looking up at him was a huge mistake. His features were rigid as he stared you down, taking a step forward in your direction as he nodded his head towards you.

“You want me gone?”

Frank’s voice was monotone as it came out, but there was an edge to it that rang in your ears. You quickly shook your head as you held your cup to your chest, clasping your shaky fingers tightly around the ceramic. You had to make a case he couldn’t argue with.

“I was a huge pain in the ass last night. I put you in a shitty situation, and I got you hurt-”

“I told you I was fine, and to quit worryin’ ‘bout me-”

“Frank, please. I feel really bad about it, okay? Please just take the day off. I’m gonna be in my office all day anyway getting caught up. I really don’t plan on going anywhere. If I need you, I’ll call. I promise.”

A muscle in Frank’s jaw feathered as he clenched it, and you noticed the way his fists tightened slightly at his sides. You could almost see the internal dispute behind his dark eyes as they continued to stare you down. Blowing an irritated exhale out of his nose, he nodded his head curtly.

“Fine. But Russo’s gonna have someone posted outside as soon as I step out that door. That ain’t up for debate.”

You gave a slight nod of your head in response, knowing it was best not to argue with Frank right now, and not having the energy to anyway. He gave you one last hard look before stomping over towards the table to grab his cup, downing the rest of its contents and setting it in the sink before he was practically slamming your front door shut behind him.

True to his word, an all black sleek vehicle pulled up outside of your place not even five minutes later, and Frank was gone.

tags: @jwjeepers @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042

[aetherdoesthings]

I LOVE FATHER FOAKJFKANFNDBS

Okay but imagine (i dont know if reader is young enough for this butttt). Child reader wants to spend time with father, but father is busy with paperwork. So reader proposes just sitting on her lap, promising they'll stay still and quiet. And reader does. And then they fall asleep in father's lap. So father carries reader to bed, kissing them on the forehead before saying good night.

I'm in love with good parent Arlecchino 🥺🥺 Is it fanon, yes, but I love her.

~EL anon

forethoughts: ignore the fact the name is still EL anon 😭 also how are you doing buddy? it's been a while. hope you're doing well! anyways, i hope this aligns with what you had requested a while back, and i hope you all enjoy Father being sweet!

notes: gn!reader but fem!reader in mind, Father being Father, NOT A SHIP/RELATIONSHIP READER IS A CHILD!!!, sweet fluff

You were the star student amongst your peers. Always did well on your exams and tests that the House of Hearth had to offer. Everyone around you was either wanting to be close friends or treat you terribly out of spite. You didn’t care about what the others said about you; you weren’t going to remember them in your future. But there was one voice and words you did care about.

Father.

The one who found you and took you in, provided a space for you to grow in your academics and life. The one who gave you a second chance when your biological parents didn’t.

You hoped that all your work and efforts one day would be able to pay Father back for the change she had given you. Of course, you also wished to hear her words of praise and approval directed at you. You knew from the teachers that Father received the grades of all children, and closely followed after each of them. Of course Father would've noticed you by now.

It had been more than two years when you joined the House of Hearth, and already ascended to the top in the academic realm. Many of the children had already isolated you, and you had closed off everyone in hopes of achieving your goal. So you spent your free time in the libraries reading while everyone else was playing in the fields. Did you feel alone at times? Yes. but you always reminded yourself that nothing else mattered other than repaying Father.

You were reading in your usual spot, on top of the shelves so the workers couldn’t find you. You ate your dinner on the wide shelves that nearly touched the ceiling, rereading a book from the library. Normal children and workers never thought about looking up. 

But Father was anything but normal.

“You’ll get a severe injury if you fall from this height.” Father’s voice rang in your ears, your entire body sitting upright, only to be reminded of the ceiling above you. You let out a wince, the pain of hitting the wooden tiles and being caught coursing through your veins. Gravity pulled on one of your sides, urging you to go back onto the ground. In your disoriented state, you listened, as your body fell from the top of the shelf. Before your mind could process anything, two strong arms wrapped around your frame, holding you tight to a warm feeling, the steady sound of a heartbeat next to your ears. When consciousness came back to you, you found yourself in a state of moving. Well, someone was moving you, while your neck was supported, your legs dangling off of an arm. 

“Father…?” You mumbled out, eyes still trying to piece the blurry puzzle together.

“Where does it hurt the most?” 

Your heart churned at the sound of Father’s voice. You cursed yourself for putting yourself in this circumstance and led Father to find you like this. If only you could talk to her in a more positive setting.

“...M-My head..” You answered, as Father’s white and black hairs came into focus. You could’ve sworn in your dazed state that you saw a flash of worry flicker in those crimson crosses that were the last thing many saw. 

Father murmured something under her breath, as she laid you down on the couch inside her office, your head resting on mountains of pillows as the sound of Father’s heels clicking across the office rang in your ears. Father sat you up, replacing one of the pillows with an ice pack. 

“Hold it against the spot that hurts, understood, Y/N?” Father ordered, her voice leaving no room for arguments. But you could sense an underlying tone of distress.

“Y-Yes, Father.” You replied, your eyes averting the gaze of those crimson crosses.

“If anything else hurts you will tell me instantly, understood?”

“Yes, Father.”

She let out a sigh once she was convinced by your simple short answers, standing up. “Since you are so adamant in isolating yourself, you will stay here until free time is over and it is time for bed.”

You swallowed, opting to not reply. From your peripherals, you could see Father resuming her work, doing what it took to run the orphanage. You chewed on your bottom lip. On one hand, this was the moment you had been dreaming of since you joined. Not being injured, but being in the same room as Father, alone, and her attention semi-focused on you. On the other hand, you were uncertain if you were on good terms with Father enough to let alone strike a conversation.

It might as well be your only chance.

“F-Father…” You stammered. The pen scratching against the paper abruptly came to a halt at your weak voice, waiting to hear the rest of your sentence.

“...m-my hand h-hurts from holding the ice pack, a-and it’s the c-couch is uncomfortable to rest on. C-Can..” you closed your eyes, “c-can I sit o-on your lap i-instead? It’ll be really c-comforting.”

It was the only way you could get closer and spend more time with the person that saved your life. You were grasping at straws, and you knew that. But your child self was craving the comfort only Father could provide. Hopefully Father still considered you young enough that she would do so. You definitely thought you were.

“I-I promise I’ll stay still. And silent.” You added, hoping that’ll tempt her.

A low noise rolled off Father’s tongue. You couldn’t tell if it was from annoyance or (you hoped) affection, as she stood up, her figure coming closer to you. You bit your lips to stop yourself from smiling like a fool as Father took the ice pack from your tiny grasp. 

“You find a way to reach the top of your classes, managing all the work on your shoulders at such a young age. That is applaudable.” Father remarked, as you settled onto her lap, one arm firmly securing your body and the hand holding the ice pack, while the other continued to fill out the paperwork. You beamed at her praise, a feeling of relief and content at the words you worked so hard to hear. 

“However, with all that intellect, you still haven't found a way to make companions.”

Your smile instantly soured at the next sentence, your mind flashing back to the memories of the interactions you had with your other peers. You knew you were smarter than the rest, and weren't scared to show it off. Perhaps that was the reason you ate on top of the shelves everyday. But you remembered the promise of staying silent.

Father noticed, let out an approved hum, seemingly expecting you to break your promise. “I commend your academic and athletic talents especially at your age, Y/N. But don’t fly too close to the sun and forget those who walk on the ground.”

It had been a few minutes since Arlecchino said her piece, knowing that you would want to hear it the most. She knew about the efforts you had made in order to make a name for yourself, and gain her attention. And you did exactly that. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t impressed by your abilities. If this continued, perhaps the Tsaritsa would offer you a job at such a ripe age. Then again, Arlecchino would try to interfere. She knew of the Fatui ins and outs, and despite training an orphanage to work under the Tsaritsa, a part of her she kept locked away felt as if she was truly the Father to all the orphans, including but not limited to you. 

She had finished half of her work when the Harbinger decided to check up on you. Unbeknownst to her, you had cuddled up against Arlecchino’s chest, the slow rise and fall of your chest bringing a warm feeling to her heart. She set her pen down, and the ice pack, taking the moment to admire your vulnerable form. It was probably one of the moments you had allowed yourself to relax after working for years to only hear words that lasted for seconds. Arlecchino placed both hands around you, her legs taking their time to be in an upright position before strolling towards your room, making sure her heels weren’t making too much noise that would disrupt you.

Arlecchino set you down in your bed, tucking you in underneath the plush blankets as she planted her lips on your forehead.

“Sweet dreams, my little star.” 

[chiefdirector]

Sunday Morning| Tim Bradford | The Rookie

There was few things that Tim Bradford loved more than his job. The hustle and bustle of the Los Angeles streets, and the joy that came with serving his community were a drop in the ocean of reasons Tim loved his job within the LAPD. The adrenaline pumping through his veins as he chased criminals and helped the helpless was damn near impossible to get elsewhere. He never slowed down, he never stopped.

Except for Sunday mornings.

On Sunday mornings, his six o’clock alarm was snoozed until the later hours of the day. He didn’t crawl out of bed till at least ten, maybe half past of he had enough reason. On Sunday mornings he wouldn’t take Kojo on their usual jog, exchanging it for a long stroll through a dog park, or a beach if the company was right. On Sunday mornings he wasn’t Metro Sargent Bradford, he was just Tim.

He could forgo all of his Sunday morning rituals but one. Despite Sundays mornings being his favourite, it wasn’t the late start, or the long walk, that made the morning special. It was the few hours he would get after silencing his alarms. As it was in those fleeting hours would he spend with (Y/N) tucked into his side.

He had gotten used to leaving her in bed in the morning, despite her job at the Mid-Wiltshire station, she always had a later start, meaning she woke up alone. Their first Sunday together was Tim’s favourite Sunday he could remember.

It had happened by mistake, a scheduling error had led to him having the day off. After Isabelle, he dove headfirst into his work, rarely taking a day off, and when he did, he was still out and about. He never stopped, it was his way to deal with everything happening around him.

This habit didn’t change when he met (Y/N), until the fateful scheduling error. It was Smitty’s fault, although this was one mistake Tim never held again the man. When he first woke, the day free for him the do anything with, his mind spun with all the tasks ahead of him.

He laid there frozen for longer than he could count, until (Y/N) rolled onto her side, resting her head against his chest. She hadn’t been staying overnight long, but in that instant something changed, as if the stars had aligned.

Tim looked down to her peaceful face, and for once took in his surroundings. How the light peaked through the curtains, gently warming the room; or how, if he listened carefully enough, he could hear a radio playing from his neighbours garden. The hustle and bustle of his life stopped, and for the first time in forever, he was glad to find a moment of solace.

Then on, Sunday mornings were dedicated to him and (Y/N). Eventually Kojo joined them in their weekly ritual, and soon, a fourth would join. In just a few short months, baby Bradford would join their Sunday mornings.

Tim never thought he would have a life like this, but now, as he looked down at (Y/N) softly snoring on his chest, he couldn’t wait to spend every Sunday like this.

Masterlist

Tags: @rookietrek @kmc1989 @fluentmoviequoter

Let me know if you want to be added to my Tim Bradford/Rookie tag list

[absurdthirst]

Dirty Secrets {Dave York x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Suspicions of infidelity, thoughts of murder (It's Dave 🤷🏼‍♀️), invasion of privacy, bondage, derogatory language, thigh slapping, plugs, double penetration, cum play, vaginal sex, anal fingering, mentions of fisting.

Comments: You're hiding something, possibly an affair. Sneaking out of bed in the middle of the night and changing your passwords. Your husband, Dave York, is going to get to the bottom of what is going on.

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|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Dave’s jaw clenches, nearly breaking from the force as the door creeps open slowly, the urge to speak, to let you know that he is awake and aware of you sneaking back into the bed is strong. This bitch….It’s not a very nice thing to think about you, the woman that is his wife, but it's justified. Instead, he stays still, keeping his breathing even as the covers shuffle and the slight jostle of the mattress indicates that you are climbing back into the bed. Thinking that he is still asleep and you are not bothering him. 

You’re cheating on him. It’s the natural conclusion that all of your latest changes in behaviors lead to and it sits in Dave’s craw like a festering wound. He’s never cheated on you. Not once. Not when pretty, fresh faced interns look at him like he’s a fucking God as he walks around the DIA hall, eager to get his coffee or do anything else he would want, including getting on their knees for him. Not when he’s out of town - fuck, out of the country - on business where you would never find out. 

His wedding ring has stayed on his finger and his cock has stayed zipped up in his pants. Looking wasn’t a crime, at least not in his opinion and Dave York likes to look. But he never once crossed a line into what would break your heart or his wedding vows. 

It’s galling, infuriating, that he would be faithful and attentive, as much as he can be when he has a high pressure job with frequent travel, two little girls who want daddy’s attention when he gets home, and a honey-do list that never ends and you would cheat on him. He had thought that the two of you were building a future, working as a team to have the life that the two of you talked about when you were dating. It seemed as if the stars were finally aligning. 

It had started small, something that he had originally overlooked. Your passcode on your phone had changed. Needing to get into the damn thing to look at the dance recital schedule you had forgotten to text him, he had frowned when the code you had for as long as you’ve had a smartphone hadn’t worked. He had almost asked you for the new one, thinking you had just changed it but something had told him to stay quiet. 

That was when he started watching you. Carefully observing the body language and your habits that were as well known to him as his own. You don’t live with someone without knowing them and their routines. Not unless you just don’t give shit.

You were on your phone a lot more. Biting your lip to smother your grin as you type away furiously. Phone tilted away from him as the two of you sat on the couch together. Not angled enough to be dramatically noticeable but enough that he couldn’t see what you were writing, or to whom. 

Then there was your laptop. Another changed password that he discovered this time when he deliberately went to log in. Making him scowl at the screen for a moment as he contemplates smashing the damn thing in a fit of anger. 

When you were on the computer, if he came home or entered the room without alerting you, you would practically slam the lid shut when you noticed him. Jumping guiltily and rushing away from the damning evidence of your infidelity to kiss him. 

He’s poured over the cell phone bill. Looking for a pattern of numbers that you have recently started dialing but there’s nothing glaringly obvious. It would take but a moment to crack  into your phone if he really wanted to and it’s coming to that now. 

You had slipped out of bed nearly an hour ago. One hour downstairs while you communicated with whoever you had met. Who the hell were you cheating on him with? Why were you cheating? What wasn’t he doing to fulfill your needs? No, he didn’t always bring you flowers or chocolates when he was coming home from trips, but he tried to make time for date nights, arranging for the next door neighbors daughter to watch the girls so he could take you out. 

He fucked you often. Even if it was a quickie in the shower before the girls got up and the chaos of the morning started. He would never have said that your sex life was lacking, even if it had slipped into the comfortable routine that time brings rather than the thrill of something new. He had assumed that was normal, but apparently it wasn’t good enough for you. 

You flip and flop for a moment, your sighs soft and Dave opens his mouth in the dark. Nearly confronting you and demanding to know what the fuck you are doing. He feels you freeze, obviously sensing him ‘stir’ since you thought he was asleep, but Dave just gives a small snuffle and adjusts his position before he falls silent again. Feeling you move again a few moments later after you feel like he would have fallen back into a deep circadian rhythm. 

“I love you.” The words are whispered in the dark, not meant for Dave to actually hear them but he wonders exactly who those words are for. 

****

He should feel guilty about lying to you. Telling you that he was going to be late coming home from work tonight, but he actually has no plans on going to work today. He’s used a rare sick day, often only taking them if the girls were sick. He would and could video conference from the home office if he needs to, instead of making you take off from work. That way it wasn’t unbalanced since you would have to care for them if he was out of town. 

Instead, he leaves like he normally does, guiding the car around the neighborhood and parking down the street where you wouldn’t notice him. Watching for when you and the girls leave for the day so he can go back to the house. 

Eyes narrowing as he watches you herd the two children - his children that you had birthed - into the car and climb in. The expensive SUV that you had insisted that you didn’t really need but Dave had wanted you to have. The safety rating was top notch and it had given him peace of mind. There are plenty of unfortunates in the world he lives in, the one that he had hoped you and the girls would never experience, and he hadn’t wanted his wife and children to be in anything but the best. 

It’s insulting, he’s decided. He knows you know what he does. It’s unspoken, but it’s there. You know about his time in the military, you met him right before that fucking building came down on him and the team. You helped patch him back together, figuratively and literally. Your beautiful smile and promises of more exciting activities once he had recovered had fueled him through hours of painful physical therapy. He had seen the flash of understanding when he announced he had been offered a position in the DIA. There is a reason you kiss him like it might be the last time every time he goes out of town. You know what he is. 

So it’s demeaning that you would believe that you were capable of fooling him. To think that you could outsmart someone who pulled people’s lives apart for a living. He had more experience lying that you could ever imagine but he had never thought he would be lying to you. 

Cameras and security systems are already disabled, not wanting to alert you to him coming back home as he pulls into the driveway. His teeth nearly grind to pieces as he shuts the door to his car and tries to look nonchalant as he walks up the walkway. As if he’s forgotten something rather than searching for the trigger to implode his marriage. 

  He might kill the man. Seriously. He might kill the man who has touched his wife when he learns who it is. He’s morally gray enough to not lose sleep over it and have a sense of pride at ridding the world of the man who had ruined his children’s life. Because while he would never touch you in anger, things between the two of you would be over. No amount of couple’s counseling would ever allow him to trust you again. 

Your laptop is sitting in the kitchen, obviously where you had left it last night. He stares at it for a good three minutes, brooding and blood hammering through his veins until he has to take a couple of slow, measured breaths to calm himself down. 

Once he sits down and opens the device, it takes less than five minutes to get into it. He wasn’t exactly setting a speed record but there was some hesitancy in his fingers as he poured through the possible passwords you might use. In the end, it is the girl’s birthday and it makes him huff in disbelief as the screen changes into your screensaver - a picture of you and him wrapped up on the couch and smiling. Dave ignores it and opens your browser to check the history. “What have you been up to, baby?” He sneers, eyes hard as he starts to dig through your computer. 

****

“Come on girls.” Surprised to find Dave’s car in the driveway, since he had said he would be home late, you pull into the driveway and park. Your plans change with him home now and that makes you huff slightly to yourself. It’s not that you were disappointed that he was home, you would never feel that way, but you had been looking forward to a couple of hours on your computer without interruption once the girls went to bed. It was hard to find time that wasn’t interrupted nowadays.

“Girls!” Dave comes out of the house, smiling widely as they tear off towards him, happily yelling ‘daddy!’ as only they can - at ear splitting volumes. You are slower, taking your time and gathering the backpacks along with your own bag out of the car before you close it up and hit the locks. 

He scoops them up, making them laugh and squeal when he kisses their cheeks and necks playfully. Juggling them in his arms in a routine that always makes them happy. 

“Well this is a surprise.” You offer, smiling at the scene. “We were expecting to see you in the morning, weren’t we girls?” 

It might be your imagination but Dave’s eyes flicker with something dark before he nods. “Plans changed.” He tells you, shrugging slightly as if it’s no big deal. “Now girls, Rebecca is going to watch you two tonight. You’re going to have a sleepover at her house.” 

Frowning in confusion, you watch as the girls cheer and hug him before throwing themselves from his arms and practically flying across the manicured lawn towards the neighbors house. You huff when they don’t even look back. “Bye!” you call out sarcastically at them only to receive halfhearted waves from the neighbors porch. They love sleepovers with Rebecca, apparently more than their mom. 

“Why is Reb-”

“Inside.” Your eyes widen slightly and your stomach clenches at the way the word is growled at you. Turning to find Dave already marching back up the steps to go into the open front door of your house. 

Slightly alarmed, you hurry after him only to have him quickly close the door and the click of the lock sounds louder than it is. Like the proverbial cell slamming shut and you find that your pulse has sped up. 

“Dave, what’s going on?” You demand, hanging up the girl’s bags and your purse before you move to take their water bottles into the sink. Feeling him trailing after you like a dark spector. It makes you worry, wondering what the hell has gone wrong that Dave needs to send the kids away and immediately lock the door. Turning, you find him watching you almost like he's trying to figure out what your secrets are. 

He doesn’t speak, making you squirm slightly and you feel your skin start to burn under the intensity of his gaze. It’s as if he’s…waiting. 

The thing is, you know what Dave does. You’ve never gotten into the specifics of what all his job entails, but there have been bruises, cuts, signs of a skirmish. You know your husband is completely capable of handling his shit. And yet, he’s never once raised a hand to you, or even raised his voice really. Not in anger. Dave is wound tight at times, but he doesn’t take his shit out on you or the girls, but you’ve seen the darkness that lurks around the edge of his eyes. The way they can go flat and emotionless, looking like a stranger for a moment before your Dave comes back to you. 

He’s waiting for you to speak, but you aren’t sure why. Making you shuffle slightly as you try to remember if you’ve forgotten anything. It’s not your anniversary but maybe he’s told you something was happening tonight that you are supposed to remember. But why wouldn’t he just tell you?

“Everything alright?” Of course you were going to break. Dave arches a brow, his intense look not changing except to take on a challenging edge. 

“You tell me.” Okaaaaay, this is slightly suspicious but then he keeps talking. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” 

Your stomach plummets and your heart starts to gallop in your chest. Your eyes flickering over to your laptop and Dave hums. “Mmmhmmm.” 

“Did you-”

“Did you think you could keep this from me?” He asks quietly, voice dropping down several octaves. Making your eyes widen at the fucking authority in his tone. “Answer me.” 

“I can explain…” Except, how do you explain this? How can you possibly tell your husband what you’ve been doing?

“Can you?” He purses his lips at you, folding his arms across his chest as he asks. Almost mocking you. “You can explain?”

“It- it’s just-” Your cheeks could fry an eye and you can’t hold his gaze, your eyes sliding away to look at the laptop again. “They’re just stories.”

****

“Daaaaave.” Your plea is low, practically whimpered and Dave chuckles as he watches you twist against the straps that have you tied to the bed. 

After he had wound you up, teased you with the fact that he had read everything that you have written, there had been a frantic urgency to the way that he had dragged you upstairs. An urgency that has been missing from your sex life. 

“Shut up.” The slap to your sensitive inside thigh stings and makes you moan, body on fire from anticipation and embarrassment over how wet you are from this. “You asked for this.” 

  You hadn’t asked for it, not out loud. Unable to voice the desires that swim around in your head and set fire to your cunt, you hadn’t been able to give voice to them to the man who had known your body better than anyone. So you had written them down. 

Expressing yourself through sexy stories, made up fantasies and encounters to work through the desires that you often masturbate to. Not because Dave is a bad lover, he’s always been good about making sure that you feel good in bed with him. It just….wasn’t everything you needed. 

Now he’s hovering over you, darkness clouding his eyes and that blank expression is focused on you for the first time. It makes your heart race again, this time in a very specific kind of way. The kind that makes your cunt ache and your thighs try to close to get some kind of friction on your clit. 

His body prevents that. Thighs spread wide as he keeps you splayed open and his cock bobbing enticingly with a heavy bead of precum pearling up at the tip. Not quite leaking down like the other smears of wetness but getting close and you swear that you’ve not seen him this hard in a long time. 

“Slut.” He chuckles darkly, “writing fucking filthy stories and thinking that I wouldn’t notice. You know what I do, what I am. You wanted to get caught. To have me read what you crave and not have to say it out loud. To pretend that you are innocent and good when you’re just a nasty whore.” 

Biting your lip, you take the verbal abuse that Dave is spitting at you, ashamed at how good it sounds coming from his raspy baritone. Just like you had always imagined it. Dave could, and would talk dirty in bed but he had never called you names and it’s not something you could ask for despite being able to talk to him about anything. 

“Fuck, you like that, don’t you?” Dave hums, fingers brushing over your clit again before he slaps your thigh again. Once more in the exact same spot makes you hiss. He wants welts to raise up on your skin, to give you the things that you have written about in your stories in exacting detail. 

Giving him an insight into what you wanted in the deepest, darkest parts of your soul. The things you wouldn’t say aloud despite the conversations about ‘spicing things up in the bedroom’. 

There is a moment where his eyes soften again, fingers stroking over your thigh as the heat from the three swats starts to set in. He hadn’t been gentle and he can feel the way that your skin prickles with goosebumps. 

There is a moment where he thinks you aren’t going to answer him, that you want your thigh slapped again but then you nod. Eyes heavy lidded and already lust blown as you pant. Your tits lift with every heaving breath and he’s barely touched you. 

“What am I going to do with you?” He asks, not wanting an answer from you really, it’s all rhetorical because he’s going to do what he wants. “Fist you?”

The way you squirm has him grinning, the skin of your lip between your teeth and you can’t quite meet his eyes. “Oh I read it all.” He hums mockingly, not mentioning that he had to jerk off because of your steamy words. He got turned on reading your dirty little stories. Whoever Jack Daniels or Marcus Pike was, they knew how to fucking having fun. “No need to be shy, I know you get off on the thought of me shoving my fist inside you, or having my cock inside you along with a toy.” 

He picks up the toy he had pulled out of your drawer, holding it up to show you what he could potentially do for you. It’s a plug, one that he’s never seen before and it intrigues him. You obviously have some toys that you use for yourself when he’s gone and right now, he’s going to use them on you. 

You tug on the restraints, feeling your heartbeat drumming under your skin every time you tug and meeting the resistance. The limited movement and the feeling of being helpless is one that you’ve always wanted and now you have it. 

You had shocked him, which was rare for a man like Dave. He has seen so much of the world at its worst and the woman he had imagined to be slightly innocent in some things was anything but. “I’m going to push this inside your tight little ass and then I’m going to fuck you.” He promises. “Later we are going to train that tight little cunt to take my fist in it. Aren’t we, baby? You’re going to be my little slut?”

“Dave-”

“Daaaaavvvve.” He pouts his lips, mocking you with a devilish glint in his eyes. “No? You want to see how many fingers I can get inside you now? Maybe I’ll fuck your ass while I’m working you open.” 

Your whimper makes his cock twitch. Watching you pull at the restraints is thrilling in a way that he had never tried to imagine with you. Separating the Dave York for work from the man who came home to his family had been deliberate and yet you want some of the man he had to be to survive. 

His fingers trail over your skin, watching as your breathing hitches and he grins before he leans down and presses his lips to yours softly. “Don’t worry, baby.” He coos, “I’m going to give you exactly what you need.” 

****

He takes his time. Showing you how methodical he can be as he works his fingers in and out of your grasping, leaking little hole. Every gasp you give when he brushes up against the smaller plug that is nestled inside of you makes him chuckle. Mocking you for being so sensitive, even while his fingers are curling up inside you. 

Three, three of his fingers are stretching you out and you don’t know how you will possibly take more. They are thicker than the two that he normally uses, pushed deep just to the edge of being uncomfortable. Making you squirm and bite your lip, watching his eyes as he stares at you. The slightly mocking light in his gaze urging you to take just a bit more. 

“Maybe your dildo in your ass, right baby?” Dave grunts as he starts to scissor his fingers, wanting you to be stretched out. His chest is heaving, watching you so wantonly beg for him. Wanting him to fulfill those dirty little fantasies that you had hidden from him. If you had just told him what you were thinking about, he could have done this sooner. Would have done this sooner. 

The plug vibrates. He had learned that when he had slid it inside you and felt the little switch underneath the silicone that covers the flared base. Now buzzing away inside you and making you whimper his name while his fingers push as deep as they can go. The wrecked moans pouring out of your throat makes him want to fuck it. Imagining how good it would feel around his cock. You’ve blown him plenty of times, but this time it would be like you had written about. He wouldn’t let you control the pace or how deep you take him. He would. 

“Baby please.” Your plea is breathless, gasped out as you tug on the restraints again. Pouting at him like he is torturing you. Dave grunts, leaning down and kissing your jaw, biting your chin. 

“I’ve got you, you can take it. I know you can, baby. Such a good slut for me.” He praises, feeling your soaked walls contract around his fingers like a vice. “You just need to cum for me so I can fuck you. Replace these fingers with my cock.” 

A fourth finger tries to push inside. Making you wince and whine while your hips jerk back from his touch for the first time since this little game started. Dave’s eyes immediately find your face, watching as he pulls that finger back, making sure that you are comfortable. Your safe word in his mind if you should need to say it, but he wants to make this good. This isn’t about him controlling you as much as you putting your pleasure in his hands. 

Once your body relaxes, you start to push down again, your hands flexing around the straps and itching to touch him. To urge him for more, begging him with your eyes to let you cum as the vibrations of the plug and the curling of his fingers draw you close every time he rolls his wrist. 

“Fuck.” The noises you make are vastly different from the normal soft moans and gentle cries that you give when your husband is touching you. Some of that is due to not having the kids in the house, not worrying about little ears hearing. The majority of it is from the pure pleasure that is rolling through your body and making you ache. 

You are getting what you’ve always wanted, what you’ve secretly needed. Too scared to say it out loud for fear of being rejected, or mocked. Or worse, your husband thinking there was something wrong with you. You had never imagined thinking that he would be into it.

“Come on baby.” He urges you, eyes dark and blown wide as he watches you. “Cum for me. Want that pussy creamy when I fuck you full of me. Stretched out on a dildo and my dick and squealing.” 

That pushes you over the edge, arching up into his touch and obeying his command with ease that just seems to shake you apart at the seams. “Dave!” Your scream catches and breaks in your throat, cascading through you and making you shudder. 

“That’s it, oh fuck sweetheart, you look so good cumming.” He praises you, nearly cumming himself as he watches you. Enjoying the way your chest rises and falls, your body shakes and your cunt clenches around his fingers. 

It’s exquisite when he pushes into you, the feeling of being so full is a sensation that you’ve never imagined you would get. Two toys just doesn’t do it. It doesn’t feel like Dave. Nothing could feel as good as he does, the heat, the throbbing. Making you shiver and moan like the little slut he keeps claiming you are. You are a slut, his slut. You will be anything that he wants you to be as long as he keeps touching you like this. Giving you what you have craved. “I’m- it’s so much.” You whimper, eyes rolling back in your head. “So full, fuck Dave I’m so full.” 

His chuckle rolls over you like a dark wave, filling your ears and senses with the pleasure that he is pulling from this. He’s enjoying himself, the smug smirk on his face when you finally open your eyes to find him looking down at you. 

“Yes you are.” You are stretched out, the little plug in your ass swapped for a smaller dildo so you aren’t pushed too far, but he could imagine a bigger toy inside you. Pressing against him through the thin skin. “You are going to take everything I give you, baby. You’re gonna take it and you’re gonna love it.” 

You will, you trust Dave. He’s your husband, he’s got your best interests in mind and so far he’s been amazing. Completely in control and still giving you what you need. His thrusts start to speed up now that you are slightly relaxed. Groaning as he starts a rhythm that takes your breath and leaves you unable to do anything more than to watch his jaw clench and flex as he fucks you. 

Grunting every time he buries himself deep and gasping when he pulls out of your grasping cunt. It feels amazing, every nerve alight with pleasure and you feel like your nipples are hard as diamonds as the scrape against his chest. Heightening the sensations and making it even better as he stuffs you full with the tilt of his hips pushes the toy deeper inside you. 

“Dave, oh fuck, Dave.” You moan, unable to do anything but take it since you are still restrained. “Please, baby. Please.” 

“Shit.” He hisses as he starts to rock his hips faster, chasing his high and pushing you towards to yours. “You dirty fucking girl, you love this.” He grunts. “If you - fuck - if you weren’t my wife I’d get another guy to fuck you with me.” He bares his teeth. “No one else touches you. You’re mine.” 

“Yours.” You pant, nodding as he continues to wreck you. “I’m yours baby, only yours.” 

He growls, pleased with your answer. “I’ll give you what you need, I’ll take care of my little slut.” He taunts. 

He will, he is. It’s all you can think before your entire body seizes up and you cry out hoarsely. Stars bursting and your entire world exploding on an atomic level and your vision whites out. 

Dave groans your name, pushing deep two more times before he is cumming. Filling you with hot spurts of his seed as he pants out your name again and relaxes against your body. Breathless as he tries to catch his breath so he can take care of you. You had kept secrets from him, secrets that he had thought were going to change your marriage. And they have - for the better. He has been very pleased to learn your dirty secrets. 

[hells-wasabii]

Hi I was hoping if maybe you could do Velvette and Carmilla (poly or separate whichever you want to do) with a fem s/o that had a very abusive ex while she was alive like both physical and verbal abuse. She also has a hard time going out because she is terrified that she might run into them again. No pressure though hope you have a good day!😁

A/N: I'm so sorry i didn't write over the weekend, I got so busy it was ridiculous. Should be back to our regularly scheduled broadcast tomorrow! I'll be honest, this ask resonated with me, I immediately knew that I was gonna enjoy writing this one and you'll see why. Like i did last time, I'll be putting one drabble on one post and the other on a separate one with the ask included!

Character: Velvette

Type: Fic (Velvette x fem!reader who had an abusive ex, Angst, Fluff)

She was going to destroy them. And whatever was left of them when she was done, no one would dare touch, else they also wanted their lives burnt to ash.

Velvette was furious, livid. Needless to say, the influencer was on a war path.

Truly, she was glad that you weren’t here to see her like this. You didn’t need another reminder of that stain of a soul, though she wasn’t just going to lie or keep you in the dark. You knew where she was and what she was planning. You had been in tears when she told you in soft whispers that it was going to be okay, that she was going to ‘take care of it’. She was surprised that she had been able to keep her cool until she had left the flat.

Honestly, the influencer knew that she wasn’t supposed to know about the bastard yet. You had wanted to tell her on your own time and she respected that. But that didn’t mean that she hadn’t already suspected. When you would get nervous out in public, looking out into crowds like you were expecting to see a ghost. The flinching early in your relationship anytime she’d so much as graze your arm.

It figured that they were in hell too. It made sense, all things considered. Plus they were probably slippery enough to stay out of the path of any angels during exterminations

It had been such a peaceful day too. The both of your schedules had aligned, Velvette was between projects and you hadn’t had any real plans until later in the night, which said plans were with the overlord anyways.

It had been so long since the two of you had enjoyed a lazy morning together. Velvette was more than content simply enjoying each other’s company on the couch. You had been entangled with your lover, your arms loosely wrapped around her waist while you rest your chin on her shoulder, watching her scroll through her current feed.

She remembered so clearly how tense you became when she came across the picture. Some club goer that she would have completely ignored other wise, had it not been for the fact that you had started trembling. And then you flinched when the overlord had reached out to cup your cheek. She was quick to assure you that you had nothing to apologize for when you offered a dejected ‘sorry’.

And that was how Velvette found out about your only other serious relationship and the story of your death. Through needless apologies and countless tears.

Now, the influencer found herself storming through the halls of Vee Tower with one destination in mind. Vox’s office.

“Vox I need your help.” These were the first words out of her mouth when she burst in through the doors to the video star’s office

“Velvette, I thought you were taking today off?” The video star startled, quickly closing his current video feed. He seemed more than he would have usually. Whether it was because he hadn’t expected to see her or because of how angry she looked, the influencer didn’t know. And frankly, she didn’t give a shit, either. He could keep watching the radio demon like a creep later.

The video star leaned back in his seat when Velvette didn’t offer an answer. So instead he gesturing for the younger overlord to sit. She did not. Lacing his fingers together, Vox took in the sight that was Velvette. She was angry, that much was obvious, but why? She didn’t have any current projects that he could think of, so what in the literal hell could have her so vexed?

“What’s got you on a war path today my dear?” Though his smile didn’t meet his eyes. No, he knew something was very wrong.

“I need a favor.” This seemed to get his attention. In reality, Velvette rarely asked for favours, instead preferring to get shit done herself. Even rarer still, she was here, asking him in person instead of calling or texting him.

Vox turned to her fully now, a serious expression settling upon his screen. “Of course, what do you need?”

“Your reach is farther than mine,” She admitted, her voice soft, betraying the unbridled rage that dwelled beneath the surface. Reaching into her bag she pulled out a photo of demon who had summoned her ire, sliding a photo across his desk to show him. An eyebrow raise, the older sinner took the photo in his hand.

Mostly uninterested, Vox really wasn’t sure what he was looking at. The picture was ordinary, some demon taking a selfie at a club. Looked like some regular old schmuck to him. Returning his gaze back to his youngest cohort, he found her glaring at the offending photo so hard that he was surprised it didn’t burst into flames right there in his hand. Just to be safe, he put the photo back down on his desk.

“And what exactly did this poor bastard do to piss you off this bad?”

“That’s the fucker who used to beat on my girl.” Velvette all but hissed out, glarring down at the picture. Then, she spoke again, softer, her voice nearly trembling as a more grave expression took to her face. “They killed her, too.”

Vox froze, his screen flickering as his own temper spiked at the revelation. You were good for Velvette. He actually liked you, which was more than he could say about any other demon that the influencer had brought around the tower. Val liked you just as much. He was going to be pissed if he was left out of the fun, the video star noted as he shot the moth demon a quick text to get his ass to his office. Vox’s lips split into a vicious grin, his voice low, practically a growl as he forced out a: “Well, lets get to work then, shall we?”

[mggsv]

THE AMAZING ADVENTURES OF CHOSO ! ✭ <idol!choso>

f! poc!black reader x Choso (18+)

summary : they say never meet your idols..well, some people just talk out of their ass don’t they?

'Cause when the stars align

You might bring the beast out

One look and your're mine

Keep your eyes on me.

“God they’re amazing in person.” You let out a breath. Sitting front row at your favorite group’s concert was truly a dream come true. They were called ‘GROUP XO’, consisting of three members: Suguru Geto, Gojo Satoru, and Choso Kamo. You’ve loved the group ever since they debuted. You’ve had countless merch others couldn’t find anywhere else. Thank the stars your parents loved you enough to buy them at the time.

What particularly caught your interest was the main lead of the group, Choso Kamo. They all had their moments and shine, yes. You’re a girl, you’ve liked all of them at some point. With your signed cd’s of Geto’s name written across them, your signed Vinyls with Gojo’s and a little personal note ending with a heart (that was a bit more expensive then you’d like to admit), and your rare photo cards of Choso that only came with first edition purchases of their latest EP. The thought made your heart warm. Back to Choso however.

He wasn’t a womanizer, no, but he did date a few women in his career time. All of them like you, beautiful brown women of color. It wasn’t often seeing someone like that especially in groups like his. And it also meant you had a chance. You’ve been plotting to meet the man since they debuted. Discovering the group your junior year of college.

And now, there you were. Hard work paying off, sitting front row as Choso’s ringed fingers held the microphone. He rocked to the beat, eyes shut as he sang one of your favorite songs. You moved accordingly to it as you have done just the night before in your kitchen. You admired him so much more now that you could possibly touch him. How his hair looked more softer than it did in person. How he wore it to the back with hairs falling over his face..His scar across his nose. The way his eyes peeled open and landed on you.

“He’s looking at me!” you heard someone scream next to you. But no..they were definitely on you. He smirks and walks closer to the edge of the stage.

I'll take you down, down can you keep it up all night

Up all night, up all night?

Want you run run run baby give me what I like

He’s in front of you, doing the respected choreography. “Oh my fucking god.” You whisper.

“You here for me?” He asks. Bodies. Hands pulling at him and he’s talking to you. It was common. Gojo did it their last concert, and Geto the one before. But as they sang backup, the spotlight was on you being lucky tonight. “..yes.”

“Aren’t I a lucky man tonight. Huh folks?” the crowd goes wild. You loved that they interacted with their fans this.. close. Your brown eyes stare up at his darker ones. He smiles at you, and reality hit. “Oh my god,” you whisper again, earning a chuckle from him as he pulled out a vip pass from his pocket. “Will I see you later?” No. Hell no.

“Yes..y-yes-oh!” You mewl around his hand covering your mouth, free of rings. Choso’s other hand held the arm of the couch, shielding your body from the world. His cock slams angrily into your juicy cunt, your ass connecting with his happy trail. “Fuck..fuck you feel so good.” He shudders, flicking his lip piercing. The sound of your moans and the sounds of your skin slapping together sent him over the edge.

His favorite position with his new favorite girl. Everyone knew after all that Choso didn’t choose a fan often. He knew he’d keep you in his corner. Someone so beautiful he couldn’t help it, picking you so early in the show. Even Gojo was shocked, he’s done it plenty of times, early on in the show, but never Choso. Choso who saw you as soon as he came on stage. Choso who noticed you were alone, but having so much fun. Choso who laid eyes on your plump brown lips and it went on from there.

It was worth it, so..so worth it. Everything underneath that outfit was just as amazing. Your curves, your beauty marks, the beautiful stretch marks. He was in heaven. That’s what he called you as soon as he gave you that pass, Heaven.

Moaning softly, he pulls out, throbbing red cock leaking over your hole. He takes his hand away from your mouth, placing it on your hip- god your hips don’t get him started. Choso loved himself a thick girl. The way your ass bounced with every thrust.. “Taking me so well, I like that.” He leans down to kiss your shoulder. His hair fanned around your neck as he slipped back into your heat. Made for him. He fit perfectly inside of you.

“You feel so good…” A mess he was, but so were you. You couldn’t believe this was happening. “I’m gonna cum. Can I cum inside of you? Hm..?” His thrusts slowly down, but get harder. Sloppily he fucked your already fucked out cunt. You didn’t miss the way his slipped out and back in, how wet he made you just from that. How his big cock touched that spot deep inside of you. How could you say no?

“Yes! Yes Choso- please.”

[hollowtakami]

WHAT SUITS YOU MOST

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

Keigo Takami x GN!reader

CONTENT: soft hawks, lots of comfort, implications of depression (not detailed), pet names (baby bird, birdie, duckie, dove), reader calls keigo “kei”

WORD COUNT: 683

AUTHOR NOTE: very self indulgent hehe i just wanted to write something for myself based on a prompt i thought up but I like how it came out so im posting it :)

With his wings reduced to a few feathers after a long day of patrol, Keigo offered to take you on a midnight walk. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you walked, his jacket hugging your body and surrounding you with the scent of his cologne. Your eyes were heavy, dark circles under them only told Keigo that you were falling again; and he’d do anything he could to catch you.

As he kept you close to his side, you walked along empty streets. Lampposts gleamed down at you both, the shadows hidden in the alleyways cowering away at the sight of your guardian angel. If only your thoughts would do the same, you’d ponder.

“You look cute in my jacket, dove,” Keigo purred, the sweetest birdsong. He smiled at you, amber suns filling up with black as his pupils pinned on you.

You smiled, the sound of his voice filling you with warmth. Resting your head on his shoulder as you waited by the curb for a lone car to pass by, you crossed the road hand-in-hand. Keigo never left your side, never let go of you. Whether or not it was his protective nature, or that he simply enjoyed your presence, it made you feel loved when that voice in your head was telling you otherwise. You looked up as you walked, the stars shining and the moon hung in the sky, beaming. You felt the fur of Keigo’s jacket brush your neck, tickling you. The jacket smelled just like him.

“I can smell your cologne on your jacket.” You thought aloud, earning a small smile from Keigo, who chuckled to himself and held you closer, squeezed your hand tighter.

“It’s your favourite, right?” Keigo remarked.

Your heart burst a little at his question. He remembered the little things about you. He loved you. You were his and he was yours. The day you met was the day the planets and the stars aligned together, as perfect as Keigo said you were.

“Yeah,” you turned to look at him, stars in his eyes. “You remembered,”

Keigo clicked his tongue, stopping for a second. You stood in the street under a blanket of stars, the things you swore had brought you together; now they were here to celebrate your love, crown you in a sheet of stardust, of hope.

“Baby bird, I’ll always remember the little things about you. I find out new things I love about you everyday, the more you blossom like the prettiest flower I’ve ever seen,” Keigo cooed, letting down his walls for you.

You felt your face flush a little as you breathed a laugh, turning your head.

“That was so cheesy, Kei,” you joked, playing off your obvious blush.

Keigo only laughed heartily, cupping your face, peppering your forehead with kisses softer than cotton. His voice resonated with you, reaching deep into the catacombs of your ribs and holding your heart close.

“I can’t help telling you how I feel, duckie,” Keigo pressed his forehead to yours as if you were the only people in the world. “If it makes you smile, then I'll talk your ear off.”

You giggled, Keigo felt his heart melt away. In his eyes, you were just so perfect. Anything you hated about yourself he loved, and would help you see that beauty too. He beamed down at you, admiring how you looked in his jacket. It framed you in all the right ways, hung off you in all the right places. You were a dream he never wanted to wake up from.

“My jacket suits you pretty well, you know?” Keigo remarked, earning a sweet smile from you as your eyes met again, shining under the blessing of the moonlight, “But, a smile suits you best, birdie,”

You flushed, heart stopping. Keigo chuckled to himself at your reaction, letting you hide his face in his compression shirt, feeling his body heat against the blush of your cheeks. He held you close, just as he did with your heart. He swore to himself silently that he’d protect you, no matter what.

[shirohige-pirates]

Sing for Me

Marco x afab!reader

Word count: 3.924

CW: oral (receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, mdni

Summary: Static electricity was enough to cause a strange problem, and Marco's losing his mind over it. He can hear your thoughts, and your on his mind way more than he expected.

Random inspiration, and completely self-indulgent.

Marco felt like he was losing his mind at first.

As far as he could tell it had just been a simple static shock between the two of you the other day. The build up of static in the current dry climate had just made the random brushing of fingers as you two worked together bite more than it should of.

Enough to cause you both to pull your hands back and shake them, laughing over it easily.

There hadn’t been anything else. No odd weather. No strange devil fruits or devil fruit users. No curses or odd alignment of the stars. Just that one unexpected crackle of dry electricity between you both.

And now he had a problem.

He could hear your thoughts.

And they were… detailed.

He was infamous for being able to keep calm. Thatch needled him all the time for how he looked on the brink of a nap every waking moment of any given day. He might be the First Division Commander, but he was easily approachable, and exceptionally laid back.

He’d worked to be that way. He didn’t want anyone to feel as though they needed to stay at arms’ length with him. But your thoughts were going to break him.

You thought about the shape of his lips. Wondered if he could transform just his tongue, and how deep it could go. You thought about the shape of his teeth against your skin, how it’d feel to have his talons at your throat. You wondered if he had a knot because of his devil fruit, and seemed fairly well convinced he could keep going all night.

He was flattered, and flabbergasted.

His second major problem was the simple fact that you were his assistant. There was no avoiding you.

Not that he wanted to avoid you, but until he could figure out how to un-hear your thoughts he was desperate for a break. He had been mostly certain you found him at least a little attractive - lucky him, he was pretty smitten with you himself, but as the commander he wasn’t going to pressure you like that.

That was less of an issue now. Your thoughts weren’t just lewd, you held him in high regard and seemed to love him dearly, but knowing all of it because of whatever this was, felt wrong. He couldn’t act on things he wasn’t supposed to know.

Two weeks later he was losing his mind. He’d even tried to create another static charge between you in the hope that it would sever whatever happened.

It hadn’t worked.

The night before last he’d been walking down the halls and gotten too close to you. There was, it seemed, a range limit, and there were plenty of places he could escape to for his own sake.

Marco, please.

He froze, standing in the hall and realizing that he was coming up on the showers.

Fuck I just want you to touch me, play with my tits. Lick my clit. I want to see those beautiful eyes looking up at me while you’re between my thighs.

He’d put his hands over his face, but that wasn’t going to block out the sound of your voice in his head. Nothing in his body wanted to move. If anything he was desperate to get closer. To give you everything you wanted of him.

Instead he stood there and listened to you fantasize about him until he could hear relief wash through you.

The way you always thought about wanting to fall asleep in his arms after you came was the hottest part of all of it. The wet spot in the front of his pants was a recurring issue, but he was able to get himself out of the hallway before you left the bath. It was everything he had in him to not just palm himself right there in the hall.

He could endure it. He had more self-control than that. He could.

He would.

He did.

Until he finally cracked.

The two of you were doing inventory for the medical supplies. Despite the size of the ship, Marco’s supplies and his office were relatively small. The crew was strong, haki stopped most injuries, devil fruits many others, and his devil fruit meant there was really only a need for major injury type supplies.

But even if the stock was small compared to the crew size, it was still important to keep it tallied and organized correctly.

You’d picked up a box of rolled up gauze spools and the thought in your head went straight into his.

I wonder if there’s enough gauze in here for him to tie me up and muffle the sounds while he fucks me stupid? Fuck that’d be hot.

He heard you sigh, soft as it was.

Marco’s amazing though, there’s no way he’d look at someone like me.

“Oi.” Marco says, setting down what he was working on and coming over to where you were knelt by the box of gauze rolls.

“Hm? Did you need something…” You look up and the words fade on your lips. Marco’s looking down at you with a strange expression. “… Commander?”

Marco looks up at the ceiling, letting out a long breath before he kneels down and looks right into your eyes. “I’m sorry, yoi.”

“S-sorry? Sorry for what?”

“… I’ve been able to hear your thoughts.” He begins, as you stare at him blankly for a second. “For the last couple of weeks.”

“My… how?”

“I don’t know, yoi.” He admits, rubbing his forehead. “We had that static shock a couple weeks ago and since then…”

“Since… my thoughts.” You stammer, understanding dawning on you as blush dusts Marco’s face.

“All of your thoughts.” He asserts.

Holy shit Marco’s blushing!

“Oi! Hey, stop - stop thinking!” He snaps, face burning bright red.

You clamp your hands over your mouth, even though you hadn’t said anything out loud.

All my thoughts?

Marco flinches. “All of them.”

Oh no.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner I-.”

“No it’s… it’s… I wouldn’t know what to say either.” You admit, hands on his shoulders, head down, eyes closed. “I… I should apologize.”

“Don’t.”

Your eyes open and you look up at him in surprise. He can’t hold your gaze for long before he looks away.

“You can think of me… however you want.” He clears his throat and looks back at you. “But… don’t think about yourself like that, please.”

“Like…?”

“There’s no way he’d look at someone like me.” He says, repeating your earlier thought. Your eyes go wide, and gratefully for you both your mind goes blank. Marco smiles, it’s soft and warm and he reaches out, brushing his finger tips against your cheek. “You’re beautiful, yoi.”

“I…”

“I’ve been listening to you praise me for weeks.” Marco says, his voice soft and low, eyes hooded, as he leans a little closer. “I’d be honored to… exceed that praise.”

“I - I… I…” Your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water a few times, and it’s a credit to Marco being Marco that he’s keeping a straight face.

He leans forward, cheeky grin pulling at his lips, as he moves so he can speak right by your ear. Words meant for you and no one else. Not that anyone else was in the room with you both right now anyway.

“I can transform just my tongue.”

Your hands flinch against him and you can’t stop the nervous whimper that escapes you. The stark realization of everything he had to have heard sinks into you.

Holy fucking hells.

His hands are on your arms. You could pull away if you wanted, but he wanted to make sure you knew it was okay to stay. Okay to keep your hands on him. Okay for him to know your thoughts because he wasn’t going to hold them against you.

“I…”

“Take your time, yoi.” His voice is warm and reassuring. “You can just think it.”

I’m so embarrassed.

“Don’t be, you’re allowed to think what you want.”

You’re so hot it’s not fair.

The soft chuckle sends a thrill down your spine. “I’m flattered, pretty bird.”

I’m nobody, I’m just-

“You.” He says, gripping your arms a little harder and leaning back so he could look into your eyes. “Are everything.”

You suck in a breath in such surprise that you nearly hiccup. You can feel tears welling up in your eyes as emotions crash inside you. It was a whirlwind situation and you didn’t know what to think. It didn’t matter if he could read your mind, there was nothing you could even hold onto.

“I’ve… loved you… for a long time.” He says finally. “As your commander I didn’t think it was fair for me to say anything.” He explains. “But -.”

“I love you, too.” You manage to say, the words that had been stuck in your throat finally coming free. Tears spill down your cheeks alongside the words and you hide your face in his shoulder. “Don’t listen to my thoughts!”

“I can’t block them out, yoi.” Marco retorts, laughing as he hugs you, fingers against your back.

“I feel so bad,” you admit, words muffled against his shoulder.

“For what?”

“I objectified you so bad.”

“Your thoughts are your thoughts, it’s okay. You didn’t say anything unwelcome.” He assures you. “You didn’t smack my ass.”

“I wanted to.”

“I know, yoi.”

“It’s a perfect ass.”

“Oi. You’re killing me.” He sighs.

“It’s gotta be all those aerial maneuvers.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“You can hear everything?”

“Mm. There’s no overlap when you talk, and it’s not like it’s so loud it drowns out everything else.” He explains. “But it’s still your voice.”

“Mm.”

“And since I like the sound of your voice,” he begins.

“Don’t, no, no, no, don’t say that.” It was too embarrassing.

“But you don’t moan in your thoughts.” He continues, going down a line of thought you hadn’t expected. “I don’t… yet… know what that sounds like.”

You can feel the shiver roll through your body, trembling against the hug Marco has you in. A shivering sigh, part moan part whimper, escapes between your teeth as you tilt your head up, letting the involuntary sound out right by his ear.

“That… is not nearly enough, yoi.” His voice sinks into your skin. “I want to hear more.”

Please.

“Say it.”

“Marco.” You sigh his name and as far as he’s concerned there’s nothing else in existence.

He lifts you up easily, one arms under your thighs as he almost puts you over his shoulder when he stands up. You yelp in surprise and laugh as you hear him clear supplies off the desk behind you before he sits you on the desk. His hands are on either side of your thighs, and he’s bent down enough to be face to face with you.

“Kiss me,” he commands and you lean forward, closing the small gap between you both, brushing your lips against his. Dry and warm, you lick your lips and close your eyes, leaning in again and slipping a hand around his shoulder, tugging him closer as his hands leave the desk to grip your hips.

You moan sweetly as the kisses deepen, letting the satisfied sound rattle against your ribs. His hands shift up your sides, pulling your shirt up as they move further and further up. When you raise your arms up over your head he grabs the gathered clothing and pulls it up and off, tossing it aside before putting his hands on your skin.

You lean back against the sensation, biting your lower lip and moaning.

Marco’s kisses trail down your neck and over your collarbone, his fingers undoing the hooks of your bra with unexpected struggle.

“Need a hand?”

“Nope,” he says as he finally gets the troublesome hook to let go.

He pulls his shirt off, tossing it aside, his lips barely leaving your skin. You slip the straps of your bra down, leaning back against the hand against your back, helping to steady you as he bends lower, raining kisses on your stomach as he gives you room to toss the bra aside. Your fingers dance along the back of his head as he works his kisses back up your stomach toward your breasts.

“Lean back, yoi.” He murmurs, guiding you to lay back against the desk. Your legs curl around his waist as his hands move over you. A heavy lick against your nipple pulls a sweet sound from your lips. He presses a finger against your tongue, letting you roll the muscle against the pad of his finger. His other hand teases the other breast as his mouth works against your flesh.

Moaning against his finger your mind fills with thoughts on how good it feels. How he could do this forever if he wanted. How it feels so much better than you had imagined.

“Ruthless.” He mutters against your skin, sucking the stiff nipple a little roughly as his fingers pinch the other, sending jolts of pleasure into your chest like lightning. You cry euphorically against his finger, body tensing from the delicious sensations.

“More, please, Marco, more.” You gasp as he teases you. “It feels… so good, ahhhnmmm ♥”

He straightens up a little too fast, his hips hitting against the desk roughly. You can feel his stiff cock against your thigh through the layers of clothing.

“Don’t rush, yoi.” He teases, bringing your legs together and tugging your pants over your hips and up your legs.

“He says as he pulls my pants off.” You tease, letting your bare legs fall back open on either side of his waist.

He sticks his tongue out at you, and it keeps going, long and tapered, wiggling at you as he kneels down in front of the desk.

“Oh gods,” holy shit. “Oh wait,” that’s going to feel amazing. “Marco, wait, that’s gonna be-.”

He pauses, gaze locked on yours. The look on his face makes the blood rush through you. He can hear your thoughts, and your words are at odds you know, but you don’t know what to think.

He watches you, and slowly sticks his tongue back out, pressing it right against the hood of your clit. His gaze stays on you as the tongue shifts, flicking and teasing your clit and sending delicious chills through you.

Oh I’m going to cum screaming.

“That’s the plan, yoi.” He says, taking his eyes off yours and leaning down, mouth wide as his hands spread your labia apart and give him better access.

“Fuck.” You husk the word as his lips and tongue sink into you. Your hands are against his head, torn between wanting to push him deeper and wanting to pull him off. The pleasure of his lips against yours, the twist and push of his devious tongue, the skill and motivation of his own desires left you to do little more than hold on for dear life.

Swears dribbled past your lips, broken and half-spoken between gasps and whimpers as your thoughts melted into less coherent concepts.

There, there, oh fuck!

Marco had no qualms about using your thoughts against you and assailed you with a mix of his own skill, and you’re involuntary instruction.

The first time you came against his tongue the pleasure had coiled your muscles too much for you to cry out. Your breath was frozen in your lungs as taut muscles curled your entire body for a few long seconds.

You were finally able to breathe out, a shivering whimpering sound before you breathed in deep body trembling from the pleasure as he continued to eat you out. He gave your insides a break, suckling on your clit and flicking his tongue against the swollen bundle of nerves.

“Wait, wait, please, Marco I’m gonna - gonna - HNNNGGGGH-.” Your body tenses again and you manage to pull in a breath between shivering teeth before finally crying out in pleasure.

He’s ruthless, continuing to focus on your clit as he pushes a finger in your trembling cunt.

“FUCK!” All you can think is that you’ve never cum so hard before, and never so many times in quick succession. It’s building again, and you can’t stop it, and you don’t want to stop it. He’s going to make you black out before he’s even inside you but it feels so good.

He pushes in deep enough to find the reaction he’s looking for, curling his finger inside you. Your hands slam onto the desk as your hips buck. You’re trying to move away from the pleasure, half of you wanting it, half of you worried you’ll lose control.

“Please, please, please,” you whimper the words, unsure if you’re begging for him to stop or continue. He pulls his finger out when you’re close, but you don’t have time to calm down as his tongue coils inside you again, beating against the same sweet spot his finger had found. One hand’s splayed out on your stomach, holding you as still as he can. The thumb of his other hand is teasing your clit.

“Marco! MARCO!” His eyes shift up, catching your gaze for a split second before you cum against his tongue again. You fill the room with a euphoric sound before collapsing against the desk. Heavy panting breaths move your chest up and down, but you don’t have the energy to try and raise your head to look at him right now.

He slowly pulls his tongue out, reveling in the sweet little mewls that escape you due to the over stimulation. He hadn’t meant to bring you to orgasm three times in a row. You were delicious, and sensitive, and the cheat of being able to hear your thoughts made it impossible to deny your desires.

You might just be his favorite meal.

Sweat slicked your body, cooling you in the comfortable room. Marco wipes his lips with the back of his hand before he moves over you, placing soft kisses against your stomach, making a lazy trail up your torso as you catch your breath. He’s careful not to kiss you anywhere too sensitive, and he uses his normal tongue when he licks your lips, before kissing them softly.

“You sound,” he begins, kissing against the line of your jaw as you turn your head for him. “Even better,” the lick against your neck makes you gasp quietly, moaning as he nips at the shell of your ear. “Than I imagined.”

His hand is hot against your leg, and he lifts it slowly, putting your ankle on his shoulder. He kisses your ankle before pressing against you. You can feel his cock, thick and twitching, hot and heavy along your thigh.

“How are you holding up, pretty bird?”

Tired.

“I’m good.”

“Tired?”

You nod. “Yeah, but not exhausted.”

“I’ll be gentle, yoi.” He promises, kissing you before he brings your other leg up to his shoulder.

“F-fuck me rough later?” You question, looking away from him in embarrassment. You wanted to say your thought instead of just thinking it.

“Look at me, yoi.” He commands and you manage it even if the heat in your face is making you a little dizzy. “Whenever,” He begins and you can feel the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. “And however you want.”

Marco presses in slowly, holding your gaze with his, drinking in every detail of the expression on your face as he pushes slowly into you. You’re so wet from everything else there’s no real pain, just a soft sweet ache as you stretch ever so gently to accommodate him.

He’s filling you up far deeper than anyone or anything had ever done so before, and you can feel tears welling up at the corner of your eyes. It’s not just how good it feels, it’s because it’s him. A shift of his hips is enough and you can feel him flush against you.

“All in,” he sighs, rolling his hips and shifting inside you. “You,” he gasps softly as you twitch against him. “Are perfect, pretty bird.”

That’s too much. “Don’t s-say that,” you whimper the words, covering your face with your hands.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He questions rhetorically, pulling back slowly until it’s just his tip inside you, before pushing back in just as slow. You nod from behind your hands and Marco reaches out, pulling them away from your face.

“Let me see you, yoi.” He requests, pulling out and pushing back in the same slow and deliberate pace as before. “Let me hear you, pretty bird.”

“Marco, please,” you sigh, his long slow exacting movements are already driving you insane.

“The sun hasn’t set yet,” he muses, devious grin on his lips as he continues. As he leans back against you again he continues to press, leaning down over you until he’s stretched your legs back, bringing your knees nearly to your chest. “But I bet I can do this until the sun comes up, yoi.”

“Suh-someone will come in,” you moan as he pushes in again, grinding against your clit a little in the new position.

Marco grins, eyes bright with his flames. “Half the ship heard you screaming my name earlier.” He says, as your mind stutters.

“No one would dare to bother us right now.” The long slow motion is beginning to pick up pace, slowing only when his hips press against you. He takes a second to tease your clit before continuing.

“Oh gods, oh gods,” you gasp, caught between the slow build of pleasure and the mortifying realization that the ship heard you screaming your commander’s name in such a lust-filled way.

“Just think about me, yoi.” Marco asserts, catching your gaze with his as he thrusts into you heavier than before. “Feels good.”

You nod. “It feels,” your hands are on his arms as he pushes in deep, nails digging into his skin. “Amazing!”

“Don’t worry about anything else, pretty bird.” He huffs, picking the up the pace and sending ripples into your body with the deep thrusts. “Everyone can know you’re mine, yoi.”

He pushes in fast, pushing the air from your lungs and grinding heavy against your clit as he leans down and kisses you. Your legs ache a little from the stretch, but he lets up before it hurts.

“I’m yours too, yoi.” He assures you, adjusting a little until you’re crying out every time he bullies the sweet spot inside you. “You scream my name,” he huffs, desperately trying to hold out a little longer. “Because I’m yours.”

“Yeah,” you gasp, nodding as the pleasure is already coiling around you. “Mine, hnnngh, yuh-you’re mine.” Your breath is coming out hot and needy, fingers desperate to hold onto him as the pleasure builds. “Please, fuck, Marco, it feels so good. I can’t, I can’t.” It’s too much I’m going to scream again.

“Don’t hold back,” his voice is more growl than anything else. “Sing for me. Just me.”

Marco slams you into your orgasm, using every trick he knows, and guided by your jumbled and desperate thoughts. His lips capture yours, devouring the melodic cry, and swallowing the euphoric sound with his lungs. This particular song was only for him.

Someday, one day, he’d let you sing with all your might. Maybe in a cabin, set just a little ways away from the rest of a small village, where no one else but the morning birds would dare to listen.