#also I had No idea what brushes to use so I just sort of fucked around and fucked it up

[vaguely-concerned]

imagining that while rook is gone, about a week and a half or so in, there's one night where lucanis suddenly appears unannounced in illario's room in the way he has of doing that and which could scare anyone else to death on its own, but of all people in the world illario is the most inclined to only find it mildly annoying to look up from his bad boy Brooding and also facemask-equivalent beauty routine (can't be tragically denied even being doomed by the narrative if you ain't cute) to find his cousin -- now first talon of the crows at least in name -- suddenly staring at him intently and expressionlessly from a few meters away. and when illario (half-jokingly, half-seriously, all-yearningly because crows live bad) is like 'ah so is this finally it are you here to kill me' even with no vengeful purple glow in evidence lucanis just snorts scathingly to show all the seriousness with which he still takes that idea and illario has to wistfully be like 'no, I thought not. so to what do I owe the honour, then, first talon. I figured you'd be pretty busy out there by now'.

and lucanis doesn't say anything at all, just stands there silently for a while and then sits down in a corner of the room with his back against the wall and buries his face in his hands. you have to understand how crucial it is for my vision here that they Do Not talk about it. they never talk about it, not in that moment and not later. illario doesn't have the first idea what 'it' could even be, once he's asked 'is it -- caterina? did something happen to...' (feeling suddenly and absurdly as much like a little boy again as lucanis just had before covering his face) and gotten the slightest headshake in response, nothing else he tries to ask even gets a reaction.

everything is all fucked up and nothing is ever going to be like it used to and the fact that this is where lucanis thought to go about whatever has happened to make his eyes look like that is ludicrous on so many levels and in so many ways. but I do think illario eventually sighs and at least sits down on the floor next to him, leaving a bigger distance between them than he might have once both in self-defense and out of something like consideration. 'I'd ask if you'd like to talk about it, but of course I know you. you never do'. (even with everything else that has happened, illario still knows lucanis better than almost anyone in the world. few things could have convinced him that maybe it really is his cousin in there still quite like this prolonged and complete lack of communication lol.) in the silence they fail to keep each other company in the same way they have for years, but maybe they can at least be honest about it now.

and then when lucanis gets to his feet like this entire very strange silent last half hour never happened to brush dust from his clothes and say he has to go... what can illario really do but go 'sure. great talk, as always. happy to be of service' from the floor as he watches his cousin disappear again into the night. I imagine illario wearing some sort of opulent bath robe or something through this whole thing by the way I think that's an important detail to get in there

[arolesbianism]

I’ve been shaky and sick all day which of course means it’s the perfect time to draw a scuffed Juliet Library of Ruina sprite

[luvwestwood]

❝ DON'T WORRY 'BOUT IT DARLING! ❞ - Toji Fushiguro

— (18+) YOUR CAR BREAKS DOWN DURING A SOLO TRIP, AND A KIND MR. FUSHIGURO OFFERS TO HELP.

₊˚༊*· warnings. nsfw (18+), slow burn, rough sex, hair pulling, p in v, rough sex, slight age gap (r is 22, t is 37), pet names, raw sex, backshots, pulling out/cumming on face/mouth, pussy eating, fingering, light faceslapping, toji lives in a cabin..

₊˚༊*· notes. I missed writing sm... also, this was one of those stories where i just got carried away writing.. also if your car breaks down in the middle of no where, please don't follow a random man back to his cabin. toji is not real.

7,035 words (25m read)

header art used - credits to @/yunonoai on twt!

A holiday. The perfect thing you needed to ease your mind— work had been fucking you up lately, so you specifically had requested a few days off.

Realising you never spend time with yourself, and yourself only, had brought you to the idea of going on a solo trip. Although with budget cut short, you could only opt for a solo-road-trip; still well away from the city, and everyone.

So far, you thought it was perfect. Just you and your trusty volks beetle, cruising off for a few days to be surrounded by the county’s evergreen trees, and going down a spiral of constantly smelling wet bark here and there.

Crashing at the nearest motel just a few miles south, and digging into a typical, pancake breakfast at the closest diner the next morning. Quite basic, but you thought that it was unironically the calmest idea for a 'holiday' yet.

Pressing on the playback button, the car radio immediately sounded out the currently inserted tape that was halfway played through, your eyes rolling at the song choice.

“..I wake up in the morning I got murder on my min-“

The sound of the tape bypassing the opening filled with the car, along with silence and the engine running. “Oh for fucks sake, Yuji definitely put that in there.”

Balancing between keeping your eyes on the road, and your surroundings, you toss the DVD away to the passengers side; rummaging around the glove compartment for another disk.

But you found the peace as of now quite calming, resulting in you rolling your windows down by the slightest— taking in the natural noise of the environment.

Your cheeks turned cold to the touch as the breeze wafted throughout your entire car, your back pressing against the fabric seats, eyes only closing for a millisecond to take everything in.

Dressed in a tank top and shorts, my, it seemed like you were ready for.. who knows what. Hopefully no one takes you, accidentally, for a side-street hooker.

Bit silent, you suppose— seeing that there was no other car on this specific road too. It was eerie, but enjoyable at the same time. I mean, the road was in the middle of the woods so I doubt people would be passing in and out of here often.

Hand reaching back into the glove compartment, you grab a hold of a random disk, analyzing it as soon as you withdrew your hand back into your lap.

..The Cranberries, not too bad. Something to lighten up the mood a bit. Biting down on your bottom lip, you divert your attention away from the road for a millisecond— pushing the disk into the radio player with a swift movement.

The familiar intro of Linger began to play. Your two hands clutched onto the wheel tighter, letting out a squeal as a result of hearing one of your favorite songs.

What seemed like forever, you wondered if the road was going to look different anytime soon. It felt as if you haven't seen some sort of sign telling you there would be a bed and breakfast ten minutes up, but you simply brushed it off.

"..And I'm in so deeep, you know I'm such a fool for youuu.." Taking advantage of the empty roads, you notched the volume a bit higher, belting out your shower-learnt vocals with all your heart.

Concerning LEDs flashing on your dashboard suddenly caught your eye, your singing stopping right in the middle of the chorus.

Frantically looking down at the light, and at the road in front of you, the sensible decision to pull over came across your mind— your car quickly swerving to the side of the road, Linger still, playing as everything started to go downhill.

"W-what the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" Your hands fall onto your lap, brows furrowed at one warning appearing after the other, a whimper slipping past your lips as worry grew.

Looking out the rear window, then to the front, you've realised you're all alone. No help nearby, not for another while. Groaning, you darted your eyes back to your dashboard, seeing about three more warnings show up.

"Fuck- not now, oh come on!" ...Can't even get peace on my day off, can I?

Pulling on the latch underneath, you popped the hood open. Killing the ignition, you grab your zip-up from the backseat, throwing it on before stepping out of the car; sizzling, and smoke coming from under the hood.

"I swear.. if this is a trap for a murder film, just take me already. My survival instincts are through the roof.."

Sighing, you lift the hood up, a big cloud of grey smoke slapping you in the face, like you could suffocate any moment now.

"The hell?!" Coughing, you fanned your face, taking a few, cautious steps back from the vehicle. As soon as the smoke had went away, you leaned back in; analysing each part of your engine.

A scoff escapes your mouth, silently laughing at yourself. "Literally what the fuck am I meant to be looking at." Knuckles resting atop your hips, you stood up straight, chipping away at your fingernails with your teeth.

"..Okay, maybe I'll try and start it... and if all goes wrong- call the insurance company."

Blowing out a relieving breath, you sit back into the driver's seat, twisting the key, trying to get your car to start.

Nothing but the sweet sound of failure. Two more tries, and still the same outcome.

"..Insurance company.. right."

Unable to locate your phone, you let out a confused noise- looking sideways and upside down your car for it. "..Where could it.. be..?"

Though.. something seemed, off. Your head slowly rose up from below the passengers seat, peeping just above the car door.

A man, walking- closer, and closer.. It seems. Your heart began to thump against your chest- begging to jump out. Breathing labored, your eyes widen, body freezing at the most inconvenient of times. Wait, is he holding an axe?

"M-my.. my phone?!" With haste in your movements, you rummage through everything like a mad man, making a total mess of your car- the same mysterious guy getting closer and closer, tauntingly walking out from the deep woods.

Sitting back against your seat, your mouth gapes open; eyes glued straight ahead. This is it, I manifested it. Now why on earth did I say that?! It's over for me, I'm cooked.

You let out a mewl, attempting to sob, solely squeezing your eyes shut. Too scared to look one last time to your side, you took a few deep breaths, chanting mini prayers to save the last bit of you.

A tap on the window came from your side, your one eye opening itself. Hesitant, you slowly turn your head; seeing a muscular torso at the window tapping the glass with the handle of his axe, before the man leans down to show his face.

Dressed in jeans and a flannel, with jagged, raven colored hair— and a face to perfectly compliment his jacked up body. I see. But now's not the time to play a dating game.

"..Ma'am?" His voice deep, and rusty, your face grew more concerned, mouth still gawking like a freak in fear.

"..God, p-please don't kill me.." A quiet peep comes from you, the man resting a hand on your roof, still bent down, and chuckling.

"Lady, I could see your car smokin' all the way from my cabin. I couldn't help but see what's the matter. You want me to check it out for you, or not?" His voice happened to be quite faint from behind the glass, though you could make out what he seemed to be saying.

"..Oh... I don't mind, I just have no clue what to do, I.." Words coming out in a blabber, you stumbled over what you wanted to say, confusion written all over the mans face.

"Slow down, will ya? Can't even comprehend half the words you're saying."

Shaking your head, you brushed it off. "You know what.. forget it.. just.. check what's happening under that hood, please?"

He nods, disappearing from your window to walk around to the front of the car. Deciding to step out too, you came to the conclusion that he seemed like an okay man to trust with your car. But you just had to make sure he wasn't gonna fit some sort of tracker underneath your engine..

Crossing your arms, you walked closer to the man, who seemed to know what he was doing. Observing from a few steps away, you watched him twist and turn at a few things, no fear in getting his hands dirty. He seemed bigger at this angle, a bit bigger than you, so if he were to murder you right now... it's over.

"..Do you always carry around that axe?" Referring to the same tool that was now on the ground, you noticed his lips curl into a smile, taking note of the fading scar on the side of his mouth also.

Letting out an amused chuckle, his eyes remained focused on the problem in front of him, but his voice was able to answer something else at the same time. "Living in the middle of the woods, I think you'd do the same."

You nod, accepting the answer with no further questions. Although a few more silly ones came out of you..

"Have you ever been chased by a bear.. while living out here?" Swaying back and forth on your tippy toes, your arms stay crossed, teeth chewing at your bottom lip as you anticipated a genuine answer.

He stops, torso still bent down but head looking up at you, facial expressions unimpressed. "Do pretty girls like you always ask all these stupid questions..?"

Blinking, you freeze, at the blunt compliment and sharp stab of his words. "..I was just curious. Also, I don't even know your name. You know, if you try to kidnap me, and I happen to escape, and-"

"Toji." Short and direct, he answers that question. "Now that you've told me your game plan, I could've easily lied about my name.

Your throat running dry, you clear it out with a grunt, Toji standing back up with an unhopeful look on his face. "..Yeah, your car is busted." He picks his axe back up, turning his body to you.

"..What? But- there's no reception here and.. I have no where to go..." Great. You've told him that you're helpless, and a young, vulnerable girl who's all alone on a solo trip.

"Wait- so you're telling me you're all alone, in the middle of these woods. Lady, do you not know that there's literally nothing here but dirt and trees?" His face scrunched up in disbelief, he genuinely wondered what a girl like you would be doing here.

"..I just wanted a holiday... on my own and.. I thought.. I could crash at some motel like in the movies and.. and.. pancakes.. oh the pancakes.." A sob chokes out of you, warm tears beginning to stain your cheeks at the thought of your vacation going downhill.

Toji, on the other hand looks more confused at this rate, his voice stammering, unsure of how to console you. A random girl, crying in front of him.. Great.

"Uh, don't cry- I didn't mean to.." Scratching at his nape, he waits until you stop crying your guts out, and successfully, you do. "Look, how about I'll fix your car for you, but first we get you a place to stay."

Sniffling, you look up at him, an ounce of hope springing back into you. "..R-really?"

Relieved, Toji was able to relax by the slightest after finally getting you to stop sobbing in front of him. Comforting wasn't his forte. "Yeah, don't worry 'bout it darling. But my cabin is the only thing I could offer right now. I told you, there's nothing in this place. No.. 'motel'..."

Looking back at your busted car, then returning to Toji, he shrugs his shoulders; mouthing, 'the choice is yours.' He wasn't pressuring you at all, but it was true that there was no other option. Outside the city wasn't all that, and you learnt the hard way.

"...Fine, just don't.. don't murder me.. I don't wanna die." Toying with the zip of your hoodie, you divert your gaze away from Toji, deciding to look at the ground instead.

He grunts, grabbing his head in frustration. "Would you quit with that murder bull-crap?! How many times do I have to say it. Should be me who's scared of a Michael Myers venturing 'round these woods." Toji shakes his head in disapproval. "Just grab your things and get movin' will you? Sun's about to set soon."

Unamused yourself, you shoot him a glare, walking over to the backseat door to grab your backpack full of everything. Slamming the door shut, you sensibly grab your keys, properly locking everything before Toji shuts the hood, resting his axe on his shoulder.

The man gestures you to follow him, hopefully not towards your death. Trailing behind his large figure, Toji occasionally glanced over his shoulder to make sure you were still there and didn't happen to run off; more than certain that you were shitting your pants right now.

Readjusting the heavy backpack on your shoulder, you struggled, mentally complaining, but too afraid to ask if you were there yet. Guess you'll take the blame for this one. Should've packed light I suppose..

"We're here, incase you were wondering." Toji stops in his tracks, turning his body back around to face you before making his way to the onto the porch.

Surprisingly, it was nice and big, and seemed homely. "Not gonna lie, I thought you lived in a run down shack in the middle of no where. With like, bugs and stuff?"

"Who do you take me for?" He scoffs, "Come in when you're ready. Also mind your step." Toji points out the mini stairs just below the porch, before disappearing off inside. He really made sure that you didn't feel pressured to do anything whatsoever. So he let you enter at your own will.

Taking note of your surroundings outside one last time, you let out a deep breath before stepping inside.

Warm air engulfed you, heat coming from a well built fire place. It actually was nice inside, and everything everywhere made sense. The architecture of the cabin really had Toji written all over it.

Nothing was run down. It felt like a home, just with a rustic style to it. The sofa actually had a throw draped over it, a flat screen tv mounted just above the fireplace. There was also a nice view of a body of water outside some large windows.

Toji paced around the sofas just after resting his axe safely in a corner, stretching his arms out; toned muscles flexing from the warm, yellowish light in the cabin.

"Make yourself at home, you take my room tonight. I'll crash on the sofa." He makes his way to the other side of the cabin, supposedly the entrance to his bedroom. Toji leaning against the door frame, he watched as you stood still in one spot, still observing your surroundings.

"Also has its own bathroom, so no need to worry about me walking in on you. There's locks too from the inside. And I don't care about you going through anything. I've got nothing to hide." Toji continues, he sure knows the questions you're about to ask. This man is always thinking ahead.

"..Thanks, Toji. That's really nice of you." Walking closer to the entrance of his room, you slide the backpack off your shoulder, holding onto the heavy load with two hands at this point. The backpack swings between your legs as you walk past him, Toji grunting before leaving you be.

He fucks off somewhere into the kitchen, meanwhile you lock the doors behind you immediately. You already smelled of bark and leaves, and not to mention, the stinky smoke from your car earlier.

Tossing your backpack onto an armchair nearby, eye glancing over a few frames with Toji in them. Some of him alone, with a fish in his hand, the other.. Possibly some old friends.

Curious, you looked around the dresser for some more things that could tell you a bit more about himself.

In the corner was a birthday card, which didn't evidently tell you his age, but you found out as soon as you opened it up to see what was written.

"Happy Birthday big guy, can't beleeve your old ass is 37! - Your pal, Gojo🖕"

Who the hell is Gojo? And, that's not old.. right? You scoffed more so at the fact that the word 'believe' was spelt wrong other than the badly drawn middle finger. Just a little habit of yours you can't control. Considering you were 22, Toji was kind of old enough to be your guardian, somehow.. but let's not get into that.

Attempting to place the card exactly where it had belonged, you were happy enough with your first try; still curious to find any hidden gems, but you were unsuccessful.

Letting out a hum, you took another look around your surroundings, nodding gently in approval at the view that he also had just outside of his bedroom. Seems like he knew how to build this place the way he wanted to.

Halfway pacing around his room, you realised that he probably thinks you've been silent for too long. Deciding to step into his bathroom, notice a shaver and some cream on the sink. Allowing the shower to run, you hoped the noise would calm his nerves to let him know you're still here, and alive.

Oh, being a curious cat you open his mirror cabinet just to take a tiny peek before your shower. Says he's got nothing to hide, so..

After-shave, lotion, pain-killers and a box.. An unopened box of extra large condoms.

You gulp before blinking rapidly, closing the mirror cabinet without a second to waste. You weren't sure if you should be mortified or impressed and relieved that they were unopened. Wait, as if it matters?

Locking the bathroom door just to be cautious, you quickly did so before stripping your clothes completely to the ground, kicking off your converse and socks before hopping into the warm shower.

The droplets trickled down your body, feeling more calm now that you've had a shower. Allowing the water to run over your hair, you scrubbed your scalp with your fingertips, completely soaking your body. You looked over to the shower caddy hanging on the wall before grabbing a familiar brand of shampoo.

Massaging that into your hair, you hurried on with your shower, making sure that you didn't hog all the hot water. You assumed that he had to start up a big ass generator minutes away just to get a drop of it, forgetting the fact that it was '24, and there was some such thing as a boiler.

The shower ended up being just fine, and Toji didn't bother you at all. He didn't force the door open, don't worry; and everything was just the way it was left in the room.

You didn't have anything else left to wear than the matching tank and shorts set you bought at TJ-Maxx solely for this solo trip. You didn't have to worry about your feet being cold, as the hardwood floors were surprisingly heated.

Quickly drying your hair with one of his towels, you figured that he didn't have a hairdryer, so you had no choice but to leave it to air dry.

Finally unlocking the bedroom door, you opened it to see Toji busy behind the kitchen island. Assuming he was cooking, you made your way closer, sitting on a bar stool nearby.

Toji had a tea towel draped over his shoulder, and the smell of cooked meat entered your nostrils.

"If you're a vegan, it's your unlucky day." He says, clearly knowing you were seated behind him.

You laugh, resting your elbows on the counter, watching him like a hawk . "I eat everything, don't worry."

"Good." He says before turning back towards you with a plate of steak, potatoes and asparagus. Unlike earlier, this time a pleasant cloud of steam hit you in the face, the smell making your tummy grumble.

Toji has a plate of his own, leaning against the counter behind him as he watches your every move, waiting for you to take a bite. He pokes at a potato, tossing it into his mouth before saying something.

"Wake up early tomorrow, I'll teach you what to do in case something like this happens again. I don't expect you to follow a man again back to his cabin in the middle of no where.." Prodding at a few more pieces of steak, he notices you were busy digging into your own plate.

You just let out a hum of approval, Toji slowly sliding a glass of water towards you before you could choke anytime soon.

Setting your cutlery down, you look up at Toji standing, busy eating his own dinner. Here comes the wave of questions.. "Hmm, do you ever get lonely out here?"

Unphased by the question, Toji continues eating, but answers your curiosity. "Nah, I like being alone. I'm used to it anyways. Friends do come visit, but not always." He shrugs, unable to make eye contact with you.

"..I see.." Nodding, your mind jumps back to the unopened box of condoms back in Toji's bathroom, your inner voice mentally cursing at yourself for being too curious.

Letting famish get the best of you, you devoured everything on the plate in record breaking time, politely pairing the cutlery together on the dish. "Uhm, Toji? I can clean up. It's the least I could do."

The man just finishing his own plate, he sets it on the counter beside him, looking at you, impressed. "Seriously? 'right then."

Hopping off the stool, you make your way past him, feeling Toji's gaze burn into the back of your head, before you reached around him for his plate, and your own on the island. Bringing the two to the sink, you began to wash them with the sponge, occasionally looking out the kitchen window.

It had gone dark quickly. Who knows if Toji never had come across you.

"You got a boyfriend or what?" A first time question from the man, and it was one you didn't expect. He remained leaning against the counter, watching your every move from behind you.

Suppressing a panicked turn of your head, you kept your vision down at the dishes, gliding your hand over the dishes and under the water, you gulped before answering.

"No, not anymore. I broke up with him cause I found out he was cheating on me with some girl on the majorette team in college." Your insides burned at the memory of you walking in on them at a party bathroom, but you didn't let it get to you, not now.

Toji didn't let out a hum of approval, and instead stayed quiet. All he did was place your empty glass beside the sink that you seemed to have forgotten all about. Taking that too, you scrubbed it with the sponge before rinsing it off and placing it on the drying rack.

"All done," you dried your hands on the fabric of your shorts behind you, turning back around to Toji who was in the same position, but this time, his hands held onto the counter's edge on either side of him.

Peering at the drying rack around you, he pouted in approval, "Done a fairly good job I suppose,"

You scoff, "It was just washing dishes. Nothing hard."

"I'll be right back. No tomfoolery, and don't open that door." Toji glances to the front door, before disappearing off into his bedroom, the door closing. You thought nothing of it, walking over to the L-shaped sofa to see what was on TV. Some stupid deer documentary was on, typical, but you changed it to something more entertaining like a soap.

You assumed that he had no Netflix on it, and you were right. You can't really imagine Toji watching an episode of The Office.

Propping the side of your head onto your knuckles, your eyes bored at the screen, barely paying attention to what was on the TV. Glancing over to the clock on the wall, you read the time to be almost 9 o'clock, which shocked you.

Letting out your fifth sigh of the day, you flickered back and forth through the channels before hearing a door open behind you, Toji stepping out of his room, and this time, dressed in grey sweats and a t-shirt. His hair was slightly damp, as you noticed him sitting just after your feet, ensuring a distance between you two.

"What's this crap you're watching?" Toji rests his elbows on his knees before relaxing back onto the sofa, legs spreading as he made himself comfortable.

Tossing the remote over to his side, you roll your eyes. "Knew you would say that."

The man attempted to focus on the shit show in front of him, brows furrowing, but eventually he seemed interested.

Sitting up, you cross your legs, groaning. "There's nothing good on TV. I'm going to bed."

Toji looked to his side, watching as you stood up and left, and he had to admit— he did get a look at your behind. But no one could beat that out of him. "Alright, suit yourself. Sweet dreams. Remember, up early tomorrow."

You glanced behind your shoulder before stepping into his room, not shutting the door fully but leaving a slight gap between the frame and the door itself.

After scavenging through the side pocket of your backpack, you returned back into Toji's bathroom with your toothbrush this time. Stealing a pea of his own toothpaste, you stared at yourself in his mirror as you brushed away.

You could still hear his TV coming from outside, and it sounded like the channel didn't change. He was probably fixated on the show by now. After spitting out, you rinsed off your toothbrush, before heading back out to place it back into your backpack.

Before hopping into bed, you neatly folded your things away, ensuring you cleaned up after yourself as you hated leaving a mess behind, especially if you weren't in a space of your own.

Letting out a sigh, you crawled into his bed, surprisingly filled with two fluffy pillows, and not just one flat ass cushion. Toji's bed strongly smelled like aftershave, supposedly the one in his bathroom mirror. It was comforting though, and wasn't an unpleasant scent.

Covering your upper half with the duvet, you laid flat on your back, eyes staring up at the ceiling before your lids slowly grew heavy and soon enough, closing shut.

You managed to sleep halfway through the night, until, it had began to thunder, and rain heavily. The drops pattered against the glass window, waking you from your slumber inconveniently.

Sitting up in bed, you look around, noticing everything was still the same. The door remained slightly open, and you could see that the TV has still been on until now, but sounded different.

Looking out the window, you couldn't see much from the heavy rain blinding the environment. It was lashing outside, and unfortunately, you were unable to fall back into sleep.

Pursing your lips together, you climbed out of bed, making your way to the door before opening it by a bit.

You treaded lightly, seeing Toji's head behind the sofa. Unable to tell if he was asleep or not, noticing that the TV was on, you approached him closer. Your head peeked over the sofa slightly, voice calling out his name.

"..Toji? ....Toji." You let out a loud whisper, the man grunting and turning his head around. It seems that he was fast asleep, but... sitting up. How scary.

"I can't sleep.. the weather, it's really awful outside." Nipping at the fabric of your shorts, you sucked in a labored breath of air through your nostrils before initiating a question. "..Can you- sleep beside me?"

Toji seemed less asleep, and now, he was wide awake. He looked over to the clock before reaching for the remote to switch off the TV. It was halfway through one in the morning. "What are you, nine?" He laughs before getting up from the sofa, trailing behind the sofa to follow you back into the room.

He questioned no more, and agreed. He'd do anything to be back in his room anyways, in the comfort of his bed, but of course knowing Toji— he'd never admit that.

The two of you hurried back into the bedroom, Toji automatically walking over to his side, while you, crawl back into bed. Making yourself comfortable again, you drape the cover over yourself, feeling the weight of the bed shift beside you, Toji making himself comfortable also.

You turn to your side, back facing Toji, unable to have him stare at your face all night. The room grew silent, and only the sound of the rain tapping against the window could be heard. Though you could still feel his gaze burning into your back, which happened to go away soon enough.

"No stupid stuff." He suddenly blurts out, which you were unable to decipher. Was he talking about what you thought he meant?

You decided not to respond, and instead, shifted around. You could feel Toji's natural body warmth all over your back, and with one more shift, you realised that he was close to you, actually, way too close to you.

But it was too late to move back, as you were too scared of irritating him by shuffling around so much that he'd kick you out.

A large hand snakes onto the side of your waist, gently gripping at your stomach. "Quit movin' around so much, will you?" It was Toji's hand, and he firmly kept you in place. Preventing any further movement. The continuous friction of your shorts against him had aroused him of some sort, and it was uncontrollable.

Another hard bump rested on the behind of your shorts, your eyes flying wide open, unable to shut now. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't know.. I'll stop."

"Sure, you didn't know what you were doing?" You couldn't see the expression on his face, and could only judge by the tone of his voice. Too bad you were facing away from him right now.

Giving in, your body aggressively shifts to face him, the natural moonlight peering through the windows leaving a bright enough glow on his face.

You gulp, Toji hesitantly using his finger to move away the fly-aways covering your face to get a better look at you. "..Don't know why that jerk cheated on you."

"..You don't know me, so.." You let out, Toji's brows furrowing as he studied your features harder.

Alternating between your eyes and lips, he let out a mixture of a grunt and a laugh. "Should go for a real man."

Your breath hitches at his remark, your mind trailing off to other translations of his sentence. He talking about the fucking, or dating aspect?

Silence grew between you, his thumb carefully swiping over your soft bottom lip. The air grew thicker and thicker, a sort of tension lingering throughout the room. You couldn't tell what initiated it, but the air felt suffocating, like it had its own hold of you.

Leaning in closer to his face, your warm breath fanned against his lips before he cupped your cheek with his hand, holding you close as your mouths latched onto each other. The tension between you two diminishing as your tongues intertwined.

Toji laid flat on his back as you straddled him under the sheets, the kiss turning sloppier, with a blend of spit coating your chins, the two of you moaning into each other.

You whimper, pulling away as you felt his teeth tug onto your bottom lip, a long, string of saliva creating a bridge between the two of you, both panting, chests heaving heavily.

Swiftly stripping your tank above your head, the sudden air had bit your skin, nipples growing hard to the touch, all perky and erect. Unable to see in the midst of the fabric covering your sights, you could feel both of Toji's large hands cupping your breasts, massaging them— thumbs toying teasingly at your nipples.

Palms pressing onto the flat of your back, Toji guides your hips with no rush in his movements, back and forth, groaning at the grinding sensation over his sweats, head heavily leaning against the pillow. Your top slides down onto the bedroom floor, breath irregular as you felt the thick tent in his pants dig into you.

You both swap positions, Toji flipping the two of you around with ease and no struggle in his demeanor, the man anchoring himself between your thighs.

Toji's lips latch onto your breasts, warm mouth wrapped around one, sucking away hungrily as he fondled with the other. A pop leaves his mouth as he lets go, using a finger to flicker your nipple gently, your warm, spit-covered nipples growing hard once again as soon as it meets the cold air.

You watch as Toji goes down on you, breath shaking as he peppered kisses down your stomach, disappearing underneath the sheets; leaving a few pecks dangerously close, and somewhere on your inner thigh.

Feeling his pointer and middle finger tug at the waistband of your shorts, you could tell that he was waiting; and so you raised your hips up slightly, allowing him to drag them down your legs.

His hands clasp around your two thighs, bringing you closer to his face, though you just couldn't see; Toji's tongue leaving behind a wet stripe against your clothed pussy, your body shuddering at the feeling.

Your mouth could only gape open, your eyes peering up at the same ceiling as you let out breathless moans here and there.

Toji's middle finger tugged your panties to the side, allowing your bare pussy to be on show to him completely, finally landing yet another stripe with his warm tongue. He eagerly sucks, sticking his same middle finger in, fucking your hole gently as he alternates between licking and fingering.

Letting out quiet moans, you fondle with your breasts, legs squirming as he inserted another digit, Toji using both hands to rip your underwear completely as he sucked on your clit

Your hand reaches for the pillow behind you, fingers clawing at the fabric.

Toji raised his own hips, practically on his knees to be able to palm at his own cock as played with you for your own pleasure, getting off to your moans as he continued to have you undone with his touch.

You could hear him grunt lowly, from time to time, but grunting in disapproval whenever you'd stamp your thighs on either side of his head, trapping him between your legs.

Your head leaning back, you gasped, eyes rolling as Toji curled his fingers up into you, eventually allowing his movements to come to a complete halt, your throat mewling in dissatisfaction.

"Not so fast, wanna feel you cum 'round something else," Toji appears in front of you, arising from under the sheets; stripping his own shirt off his body before tossing it somewhere across the room.

His body shifted around, and you assumed it was to get the condoms, where you already knew was located. Though you quickly took a hold of the strings on his waistband, pulling him back.

"No- I wanna feel you raw, Toji," Looking up at him as you said so, still laid on your back; the man could've sworn that his cock twitched at what you had just said.

Surprisingly, he nods, moving about to get his pants fully off him, struggling a bit, but managing in the end.

Toji uses a hand to jerk his thick length repeatedly, the other free playing with the flesh on your waist. "You sure about this?"

"I am." You replied, busy wondering how he was gonna fit inside of you. The condoms weren't lying.

Slightly and slowly pushing his tip into you, followed by the rest, the two of you groaned at the feeling, Toji grabbing onto both sides of your waist eventually; grip growing tighter as he stuffed you full. Your fingers clawed at his wrists, a moan escaping your mouth as you felt his girth stretching you out, Toji using his thumbs to caress your sides gently.

"All good?" He made sure, and you nod, letting him know that he could move, and you were perfectly fine.

Toji's hips began to rock back and forth, occasional groans coming from him, mentally thanking you for the fact that you let him do it raw.

"..F-faster," you let out, Toji now placing both of his hands on either side of your head, his hips bucking into you faster and deeper; the bed slightly creaking from his movements.

He continues to groan endlessly, head jerking back as he felt your gummy walls take him completely, cursing over and over again. Toji smashes his lips onto yours again, you moaning as a result, the man taking your head into his hands as he held you close; forehead leaning on yours as his cock bullied your insides relentlessly.

Pulling away, Toji grabs both of your legs, resting your ankle on each of his shoulders— allowing him to fuck into you deeper, and be impossibly closer, the man fucking you into a nasty mating press as the creaking intensifies; the headboard beginning to hit against the walls, the legs of the bed scratching all over the floorboards.

"S-shit, To-oji," Voice breaking up your words, you dig your fingertips deep into the muscle on his shoulder, Toji moaning closely against the shell of your ear.

He growls, resting his forehead on yours once again, maintaining eye contact with you, so intimately; "That's it doll, moan my name, come on," he coos, watching as your eyes squeeze shut; the man reaching his hand up to gently slap it against your cheek— telling you to keep your eyes on him.

You do so, and endlessly chant his name like a prayer; Toji grinning and leaving a peck on your lips before letting your legs go, allowing them to flop on either sides of his waist, effortlessly flipping you back around.

Pulling out rapidly, the flat of his palm presses against your spine. Hands kneading at your ass cheeks as he spreads them apart, leaving a long wet lick from your pussy past your asshole, he slides his cock back into your dripping hole— maintaining his previous pace as he holds onto the headboard, drilling into you with no mercy.

Beads of sweat glistened his body like that pane of glass, strands of his recently washed hair now sticking to his forehead.

"Atta girl," he moans, slapping your ass and leaving a red hand-print. "Fuck, take this cock," Your ass rippling against his pelvis, Toji grabs a handful of the soft of your cheeks, fucking you back onto his cock; a symphony of ass slapping, and balls hitting against your clit sounding throughout the room.

Your forehead falls heavy onto the pillow, voice muffled as you moaned helplessly into it; Toji fucking you in all the right spots, he meant it when he said you should find yourself a real man. He was showing you, what a real man was.

"C'mon baby, I wanna feel you cum all over me, p-please?" Toji pleads, his thrusts slowing in pace, but still rutting in deep as he fucks you passionately, guiding you by your waist back and forth on his cock to get those last few strokes.

Toji leans forward, pressing a tender kiss on your shoulder blade, feeling down your back as he left a few more, shivers going down your spine as he roamed his hands all over you,

A creamy ring forms at his shaft, thickening over time as he continued to fuck in and out of you; playfully pulling his thick cock out to heavily rest it against your ass, gliding it between your cheeks before sliding it back in. His tip red, and glossy, your eyes rolled as he slipped himself inside.

Toji picks up the pace once more, urging you to your orgasm; your fingers clawing behind you, trying to stop him from moving any more, your two legs shaking as they attempted to stay up, and support you in your arch.

He grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you back towards him; fucking your mind as he finishes you off from behind. "I'm gonna c-cum, oh fuck," you squeal, eventually making a mess all over his cock, squirting— Toji still fucking into you as your orgasm had washed over your body.

A dark puddle forms on the bedsheets underneath you, and your slick soaks on the flat of his thighs, a squelching noise emitting from underneath as you lazily rubbed circles on your clit; eyes rolling from the several sensations hitting you all at once— Toji’s cock continuing to piston into you.

Toji grunts, feeling you clench and unclench round his cock; a firm slap stinging against your left cheek as he instantly pulls out. "Turn around," he commands, breathing heavily and you obey; a firm grip still in your hair— the man guiding his cock with his index and thumb towards your lips.

Slapping his heavy girth against your mouth, warm ropes of white decorate your face; Toji grunting as he watches your face be painted with white, smearing his artwork all over your face, pushing his tip gently into your mouth as you sucked, sticking your tongue out for visual confirmation of the white orb of cum resting on it.

"Fuck.." he whispers, "Swallow it baby," Toji smacks his tip against your cheek, soon enough letting go of your scalp as he jerked his cock with a last few strokes.

Upon letting go, he immediately cupped your face into his palms once again, rewarding you with a tender kiss on the lips, sneaking a quick fondle at your breast.

Toji glances out the window, returning his gaze back to you glowing under the moon's light. The loud storm had stopped long ago. "..Don't you think those backshots were louder than that thunder clapping out there?"

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me. ily all soo soo much!

[luvwestwood masterlist]

[luveline]

I love bombshell reader. Would she ever get jealous?

Your eye is most definitely twitching. The pull and cinch of your lashes and the delicate skin of your eyelid distracts you mildly from the sight in front of you, but not for long. 

You rub at your eye with a perfectly filed nail, smudging intricate makeup all over the place. You remember your mascara only after you've mussed it and groan in annoyance. "Fucking fuck," you murmur, slipping a hand into your jacket pocket. 

"You okay?" Emily asks. 

Using your phone screen as a substandard mirror, you clean up the smudge you'd made of your make up with your pinky finger carefully. "I'm great," you say breezily. 

"You sure? You sound stressed." 

"She's jealous," Morgan says. Smugness lines his face and the otherwise handsome set of his mouth. 

You roll your eyes at him, to his bemusement, and sit back in your cold, leather-backed chair. "Sure, Morgan, I'm very jealous. Of what?" 

"Of our baby boy's new friend, obviously," he says. 

You don't give him the satisfaction of looking back at Spencer where he stands at the bar, nor do you let the practised smile you're wearing falter. Your guts an aching wound and your skin flushed with heat, you reach for the cherry coasting along the surface of your drink and pull it out by the stem, twisting it between your fingers. Unbothered on the outside, and an insecure, hurt mess on the inside. 

It really looked like Spencer was flirting with her. 

You chew your cherry for much longer than you need to for want of something to do, hot tears begging to well behind your eyes. Spencer isn't your boyfriend, you've held hands a couple times and that's that. He's allowed to want someone else. Someone prettier, smaller, she'd had a head of perfect braids and a dewy, do eyed smile. Cherry swallowed, you knock back your drink. 

"Sorry," Spencer starts, sliding into the booth next to you with another cherry sour for you and what looks like an ice cold glass of coke for himself.

You hadn't asked him for a drink and he hadn't mentioned getting you one. For a moment, the ugly weight of envy lifts from your shoulders. "Oh, thank you." 

"I just met this girl at the bar and she had something very interesting to ask me," Spencer says. 

You don't want to hear it. Morgan absolutely does, and with Emily to encourage him, they're happy happy torture you both. "Why's Penelope taking so long?" you ask, trying to change the subject too late. 

"What did she want, loverboy?" Morgan asks.

"Did you think she was pretty?" Spencer asks you.

Mortified, you stare at him. Plainly hurt, to his surprise, you clasp your hands together tightly in your lap. "Why would you ask me that?" 

"Because she wants to ask you out?" Spencer's knee bumps yours. "She thinks you're, quote, intimidatingly pretty." 

Emily and Morgan laugh together gleefully. You're glad this is entertaining for them, but mostly you're relieved. You pick up your drink and take a sip, looking over Spencer's shoulder into the bar for the girl he'd been speaking with. She smiles shyly. 

"I'm assuming this is from her?" 

"What? No, that's from me." 

Your gaze flickers back to him. "Really?" 

"That's my boy," Morgan jokes, swinging his arm behind Emily's seat. She laughs approvingly. 

Firmly back on stable footing, you give Spencer your stickiest grin, looking over his pretty face greedily. He's looking at your drinks rather than you but his torso is turned your way, the backs of his fingers brushing your stocking clad thigh. "Maybe I should go let her down gently?" you murmur, shifting in your seat to turn his way too, flirting with the idea of touching his cheek. 

"You might not need to," he says. 

"How come?" you ask. 

"Well, I… I sort of implied you were taken. You know. With the drink. And I also might've said you weren't interested." 

"Yeah?" You put your hand on his shoulder, tracing a whisper of a path up the slope of it to the base of his throat. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not." 

Emily shakes the small bowl of roasted peanuts, a deviousness about her as she says, "Good for all of us. I've never seen Y/N that jealous before. For once, I thought we'd have to protect her from you." 

You could kill her. Flustered, you tilt your head to one side and look out over nothing, mumbling, "I wouldn't say I was that jealous." 

"No?" Spencer asks. "I can go tell her you've changed your mind." 

"Don't push your luck, Reid." 

[elronds-meleth-nin]

A Brush With...Kindness?

This idea came up in a discussion with @bigblissandlove1, so credit to you, my dear friend!! Thank you for being okay with me writing it! ILYSM! Thank you for screaming over both versions of Adar with meeee 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 Also holy shit, this was supposed to be like...2000 words and ended up as almost 12000. 💀

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Adar (RoP) x Reader

[A/N: This has smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Mentions of violence (not discussed in detail), blood, bloodplay, threats, knives, swords, Adar in the winter, both soft!Adar and stabby!Adar, interspecies sex, Uruk/Human sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), angst, much yearning, nudity, I feel like I'm forgetting something but I have no idea what because holy fuck this is almost 12000 words.

~*~

I knew his face from the moment he and his Uruks flooded into our village. Pillaging and looting where they could, murdering those who fought, the Uruks caused havoc. He strode in with them, looking as serene as the Elf I'd mistaken him for when I was a child.

How lucky I'd been that he'd chosen peace all those years ago. My father was a trader who traveled between Lindon, Eregion, and several villages inhabited by Men. Between the last of those villages and the borders of Eregion, we'd stopped to make camp for the night.

While my father set up our tent and tended to the horse, he asked me to gather some small sticks for the fire. I set off to do so, but in my quest for kindling, I ended up farther away from him than I'd intended with an armload of sticks large enough to make me stagger. Just as I'd begun to turn back, there was a small rustling from behind a bush a few feet away. I turned just in time to see a figure rising to his feet.

Tall, intimidating, covered in dark, aging armor, with scars on his face stood an Ellon. I let out a small, childish sigh of relief. I'd been afraid it might be a bear or an Orc or something fearsome, but it occurred to me that the presence of an Elf must mean that we were close to Eregion.

"You should not wander alone, little one. There are Uruks lurking in this forest," he said, and I noted that he sounded strange. Most Elves had voices that flowed like silvery musical notes, but his was raspy and low, as if he'd screamed for so long that he'd hurt his throat. Maybe he was a soldier, I'd thought. After all, they shout orders all the time.

"I'm not alone," I said lifting my chin as proudly as only a child could. "My father is not far from here."

He did not look convinced, yet still he offered me a smile.

"Perhaps, then, my lady, I could help you with your load?" He asked, and as I'd never been called 'my lady' before, I was not eager to disabuse him of the notion. He relieved me of my bundle of sticks, and together we began to walk back toward the camp my father had set up. After a few moments of comfortable quiet, I posed a question.

"What is an Uruk? I've never heard of one before. The word sounds sort of like 'Orc' if you say it too quickly..." I mused, and a small smile tugged at his lips. Vaguely, I wondered if his scars hurt him, but I did not think it polite to ask. At ten years old, my father had taught me manners enough to know that if a person wanted to talk about something like that, they should be the ones to bring it up.

"An Uruk is the correct name for an Orc," the Ellon said. "The words became...confused long ago. Not many remember their real name."

Oh. Well, that made sense.

"There are two people who know, now," I said smiling up at him, and he looked at me with raised eyebrows.

"That is kind of you, my lady, but you must not use that name around the Elves. They do not take kindly to having their mistakes paraded before them," he said, and that confused me.

"But...you are–"

The crunching steps of heavy boots in the underbrush startled me, but instead of an Uruk appearing from the trees, it was just my father.

"There you are! I told you not to go too far," he said striding up to me and wrapping me in his arms. He placed a kiss atop my head and only then did he turn his gaze upon my companion. Straightening, he glared suspiciously at my new friend. "Who are you? I've never seen Elvish armor quite like that."

His tone was less than kind, and, remembering my manners, I spoke up on my friend's behalf.

"Be nice, papa! He was helping me," I said. My new friend shifted the bundle of sticks to one arm, and placed his hand over his heart, inclining his head in a respectful bow.

"I intended her no harm, sir. There are many perils in this part of the forest and I wished to ensure she would not encounter danger," he explained. "Besides, a bundle this large was certainly more than a lady of her status should have to bear."

He offered me an exaggerated, deferential bow that drew a giggle from my lips. After a mere moment's hesitation, my father invited him to our camp to keep warm, since the woods grew quite cold at night. Looking back, it was obvious that he was incredibly patient with my childish questions as the three of us settled in to pass the night. Our evening meal stretched easily between three mouths, even though our new friend said that he did not wish to diminish our supply of food. We could not simply let him starve.

I woke in the middle of the night to low, whispered voices at the treeline. Carefully, I peeked through the flaps of my tent and saw two shadowed figures around the flickers of a small lamp. One stood tall, and the other hunched over.

With my father still slumbering soundly in his bedroll, I made a decision of which he surely would have disapproved. As quietly as I could, I slipped out, sneaking through the shadows of the trees until I could just make out the face of the taller person in the lamplight.

Our Ellon friend? What was he doing out here? Shifting slightly, I caught sight of the second person and–

I nearly tripped over myself to get back to my tent. He'd been speaking in a strange rasping, mean-sounding language to an Orc - or, an Uruk, as he'd called them.

I wasn't frightened of him, despite what I'd seen. Curiosity still reigned in my mind, but I still did not relish the thought of being caught eavesdropping. The next morning, I rose quite early, only to find that our guest was already gone.

"Don't look so distressed, love," my father called from his seat beside the fire. "He left this for you along with his apologies for leaving before you woke. He said his children needed him."

He held out a small piece of dark metal. It had clearly come from his armor. Carved within it was a set of stars, inlaid with some other tarnished metal.

"He said it was the symbol of the Noldorin Kings. He thought you might appreciate it and that it might serve to remind you of the conversation the two of you had," my father explained, though he looked a bit puzzled. "What conversation did he mean, if I may ask?"

As I looked at the small metal piece, it occurred to me that if he had not told my father, then perhaps there was a reason. My father might react poorly to the word 'Uruk' like our friend said the Elves would, simply because he worked so closely with them.

"He said it was dangerous to walk alone," I said, and though it wasn't a lie, it was not the whole truth, either. I'd never had reason to lie to my father before, and I hoped I would never need to again.

That night after we rode into Eregion and settled into our chambers, by candlelight I found the second symbol. Carved onto the back of the item he'd given me, there was what looked like a three-pronged shape. A tool perhaps? A maker's mark?

I wouldn't see that shape again until many years later when Lord Adar took our village. The armor piece which I'd turned into a necklace years before hung around my neck, almost burning beneath the bodice of my dress even as I averted my eyes from our new lord's.

When the morning came, we were all herded into a line leading to the steps of the tavern from which Adar was currently ruling over us. Those who refused to swear loyalty to him were summarily killed by the Uruks guarding us. When my own turn came, I dropped to my knees as all those before me had done.

Strangely, though, even as I looked up at him, I still couldn't find it within me to be afraid of him. Of death? Naturally, I was frightened, but I could not muster the same feeling regarding the Uruk lord. His eyes met mine, and his lips parted as if he recognized me.

An old man grasped my hair roughly, forcing my head down into a more subservient position.

"Do you swear allegiance to Adar, Lord Father of the Uruks?" He asked, but before I could answer either way, his tight grasp on my hair was suddenly released. "M-My lord?"

"She has already sworn for me," Adar rasped above me, and I tried not to look confused as he urged me to my feet. He reached toward me, and to my astonishment, his fingertips brushed against the pendant that had come loose from beneath the top of my dress. The one he'd given me years ago. The back with the three-pronged carving was visible because the chain had twisted. "She already wears my mark. You will not brand her, is that understood?"

"Yes, my lord," the grumpy old man said, but I could look nowhere save into the same green eyes I'd seen all those years before. I couldn't help but think about how beautiful they were.

"I shall see to the rest tomorrow, Waldreg. See that they're fed and have a place to sleep," Adar ordered. Grasping my elbow, the Lord Father of the Uruks led me away from the crowd. Once we were safely inside one of the ruined buildings, he clasped my upper arms and looked into my eyes. "I thought I told you it was dangerous to wander alone, my lady."

His voice was infinitely gentler than it had been before.

"I'm not alone," I whispered, "not when I have you."

Looking at me with a mixture of disbelief and something far too soft to be on an Uruk Lord's face, he stepped closer and carefully rested his forehead against mine. The scent of smoke and metal, earth and wood oils surrounded me, and I recognized the scent, faint though it had been, from that day in the woods.

He muttered something in the low, guttural language that the Uruks used, and though I had no idea what he'd said, the sound of it sent my heart racing in my chest.

"I thought I'd never see you again," I admitted in a whisper, and he let out a slow, almost sad sigh.

"I had hoped that you would never have need to," Adar murmured in return. When he spoke again, he sounded almost resigned. "If you wish to leave, I can arrange safe passage for you."

I considered the possibility for a moment. My mother and father were living peacefully in Eregion, thanks to the kindness bestowed upon them by Lord Celebrimbor. I could certainly go there, but...was that what I wanted?

"And...if I wanted to stay?"

Pulling his head back just far enough to look into my eyes, Adar seemed as though he both was and was not surprised at my question.

"You would be allowed to do so, of course, but you must understand that this would be a hard life," he stated. "I cannot offer you any luxuries, not like those found in Elven territory. Mordor is new. We have very little. We have not even completed the construction of our own homes yet. Is that truly the life you want? Barely getting by on scraps of food, sleeping in the ruins of an old building?"

"I can bear it," I reassured him, and he seemed to consider my words as his fingertips once again traced the chain of my necklace.

"I will not make you swear your loyalty, my lady, but I would like your word that if at any point you feel as though this life is intolerable or overwhelming, you will tell me," he murmured as his eyes met mine again. "I would not see your light dimmed by such a place as this."

Gently, I laid my hands over his.

"You have my word, my lord," I murmured, and he nodded his head slowly.

"Then, welcome to Mordor, híril vuin."

--

She'd been different since the day they met. Oh, she was likely an average member of her species, but Adar had little personal experience with Humans beyond the occasional interaction. Her openness when she was a child had been endearing, especially since she hadn't thought him frightening or hideous. She'd accepted him as he was without question - even going so far as to protect him from her father's suspicion.

After she'd caught him speaking with Glûg in the middle of the night, ordering his children to leave her and her father be in Black Speech, however, Adar had thought that she'd have told her father what she'd seen...that he would be met with an arrow to the chest upon his return to their camp. Instead, she'd managed to sneak back unnoticed, and he'd taken his leave before she awakened.

Never did he think that one day as a grown woman - a lady - she would be forced to kneel at his feet. Not even with the threat of death looming over her was she afraid of him.

He'd never wanted her fear. When she was a child, he'd savored her curiosity, and now, as an adult, he found that he relished her gentleness and her acceptance. She'd been courteous to all of his children whom she'd encountered, even if such behavior earned scorn from the other Humans in their encampment. She never cowered. She never diminished herself to fit into the dull little boxes that the others of her species so consistently tried to force upon her. She was unique.

And Adar found himself growing ever more intrigued by her.

The winter wind whipped clothing, biting the skin and sinking bone-deep. Like most discomfort, Adar was used to it. He knew every survival method - one did not live for thousands of years without picking up a few helpful practices. His children had followed his example, but it was a bit harder for the Humans among them to find comfort.

Truly, though, the only one he cared about was his lady...his brave, determined lady. He remembered her looking up at him the better part of a year ago when she was forced to the ground before him. Curiosity and recognition was as obvious in her expression as the points on an Elf's ears.

Even after he'd taken their village, she hadn't hated him. She hadn't denied having sworn for him, even though that had been a lie he concocted to keep her safe and unblemished.

Seeing that remnant of his armor hanging from a chain around her neck had inspired more pride and awe in him than he'd felt in an Age. Adar had assumed that even if her father had given it to her, it was so small and insignificant that she wouldn't have bothered to keep track of it. But for her to have turned it into a necklace... The thought still sparked a wave of warmth in the Uruk's heart.

Had their encounter truly been that memorable to her?

As the bitter winter held the camp in its grip, residents and all, Adar walked amongst his children and sworn Human villagers alike, noting those things which were needed most. He turned a corner between rows of tents and half-built houses and paused at the sight of his lady and Glûg discussing the babe in the Uruk's arms. After a few moments, his lady let out a small laugh, and Glûg let out a rasping chuckle before departing with a small bow.

Before he could behave as if he'd been doing anything - anything at all - besides watching them, she turned and Adar's eyes met hers. Approaching without hesitation, she curtsied and greeted him with her customary 'good day, my lord.'

Dropping into his own low bow, Adar offered her his arm.

"Walk with me, if you would, my lady," he murmured, and she looped her arm with his. "How would you characterize the mood amongst your people here?"

They walked a few steps, she considering her answer, and he marveling at how easily they fit together. Having her at his side felt natural, as if that was where she was always meant to be.

"They are under strain, because of the winter temperatures. Perhaps they are a bit more frightened than usual, but nothing too serious," she replied. "They seem to have settled into their new routine along with your children quite well, considering the circumstances."

"And what of your own circumstances? What can I do to ease your burden?" He asked as they reached the door of her shelter.

"I can think of nothing, my lord." Adar did not believe that, but he did not contradict her, choosing instead to accept her invitation inside.

"Allow me, at least," he said as he stepped inside, "to check your supplies. Firewood and the like."

"Of course," she murmured, waving him inside. One of the other ladies who shared her living space had already lit a fire in grate, and as soon as they saw Lord Adar walk inside, they quickly found other places to be.

Pretending to take a cursory view around the room, Adar slyly watched his lady move around, tidying up, even though the messes had clearly been created by the others. That he did not like, but that was a problem for a later date.

"Are you certain there is nothing I can do to improve your situation?" He asked, and she flashed him a smile bright enough to make his heart skip a beat.

"Nothing, whatsoever. I'm quite comfortable here," she said walking to stand with him beside the fire. He took a long, selfish moment to indulge his desire to study her face. When his desire to reach out and touch her grew so strong that he felt he might snap, he drew and released a deep breath.

"Thank you for your indulgence, my lady. I shall leave you in peace."

Adar gave her a small bow before making his way toward the door.

"Oh, wait! Please, my lord," she called, and he turned to face her. She pulled a length of cloth from a bundle, hurrying over to him.

A familiar sense of dread curled in his abdomen. He'd been betrayed before in moments of weakness - seeing her this evening was certainly a weakness. The cloth would make a suitable garrote for a person of her size to use. Steeling himself as she approached, he realized that, though he wouldn't be surprised, her betrayal would hurt more than any other had.

He met her eyes with his as she stood on the tips of her toes to wrap the cloth around his neck...but the constriction he'd been expecting never came. Instead, she tied it carefully, tucking the ends into his armor so they wouldn't flap around in the wind.

Adar's gauntlet-covered fist relaxed as his defensiveness was replaced with confusion. He was certain that he must look as utterly befuddled as he felt, but the little smile that settled upon her lips as she examined her handiwork stole his breath.

"There. That should keep you a little warmer, at least. We cannot have the Lord of Mordor freezing, now can we?" She asked when her fingers finally fell away from the chestplate of his armor. Adar found speech difficult for a long moment. She cared for his comfort?

How was one supposed to tell someone that they'd expected death's shadow only to find kindness instead? How could he possibly explain to someone like her that at the sight of a simple makeshift scarf, he'd coiled himself as tightly as a warrior preparing to be struck without a shield or sword to defend himself? She was so considerate that she would blame herself for unsettling him, he had no doubt.

No, to say nothing would be better. Perhaps...perhaps later.

Lifting her hands gently in his own, he laid soft kisses upon her knuckles. He dared not look away. Not now. This moment was crucial - whether for just him or for them both, he knew not.

"Thank you, dear lady," he breathed, and as his eyes searched hers, he saw what he normally did in her: warmth. However, this time he saw more. There was warmth, yes, but there was also gentleness, protectiveness, and a sort of satisfaction about him not tearing the scarf from his throat - he would never do such a thing. Not when it was from her.

When he finally stepped outside once more, the wind was unable to sink its frozen teeth into his neck. The fabric, worn and discolored with age, was soft, caressing his scarred skin just as he imagined her fingers would if she ever deigned to lower herself and take him as her lover.

Her generosity made him only that much more determined to find some way to make life easier for her. For nearly a week, he was kept too busy to give the matter any serious consideration, but he did have an idea.

While she was occupied, Adar slipped into her shelter. He wished to find a way to repay her for her kindness, thus his goal was to find one of her unfulfilled needs and provide for her. He was already able to ensure that she received enough food and water, and she deserved more than he could ever give her, but he was willing to try.

After a few moments of searching, he noticed the blanket in her little sleeping area. It was thin, full of holes, and practically falling apart. It was the only one he could see.

His heart clenched in his chest. She must be nearly frozen during the night, yet she had still seen fit to give him her scarf? The growing dampness of tears blurred his vision, but he blinked them away. How had she made it through the winter?

At least he could fix this for her.

Picking up the tattered blanket, he strode across the camp to find a replacement. Laying it atop a pile with other bits of cloth that needed to be repurposed, he found a stack of extra blankets. He'd already ensured that all of his children had enough to keep them warm, so one extra would not be missed.

He hastened back to her shelter, closing the door nearly silently behind him, but he quickly realized that he was not alone.

"My lord?" She called from her place beside the cold hearth. She was trying to light a fire with trembling hands. Walking over to her, Adar tucked the blanket beneath his arm and gently coaxed the flint and steel from her cold fingers.

Kneeling briefly, he struck the flint and steel once, twice, and carefully encouraged the flame to grow until a warm glow illuminated the room. When he stood again, he grasped her hands and rubbed them between his palms. He would not be content to leave her until he was certain that she would not freeze in the night.

She looked up at him in wordless wonder, and he knew for certain that his own expression had to be similar.

"Thank you, my lord," she said in barely a whisper, and in reply, he unfolded the blanket he'd brought. Though it was not nearly as soft as someone like her deserved, he knew it would hold the heat much better than her old one. Adar draped it around her shoulders, and, sweet, trusting thing that she was, she made no protest about his proximity, nor did she flinch when the backs of his knuckles caressed her cheek.

She looked from him, to the blanket, and back again. Without warning, she sprang forward, wrapping her arms around his middle, but where he usually expected the bite of a dagger after such an impact, he found only comfort. He realized that she...was embracing him.

He looked down at her, only to find his nose buried in her hair. Her scent! He'd smelled it before, but to have her this close...it was intoxicating. Carefully bracing his hands on her waist, he leaned down a little farther. The tip of his nose brushed against her warm neck, and he could almost smell her pulse racing beneath her skin.

His nose must've been cold, for that small movement was enough to startle her into leaping back. His fëa, dark and fractured as it was, wept at the loss of her, even though she'd only been in contact with him for a moment.

It had been so long since he'd been held like that.

Alarm settled into her expression and she began stammering apologies. Her new blanket slipped from one shoulder, and without a word, Adar stepped toward her and pulled it back into place.

Her voice dropped away as she realized what he was doing. His hands laid lightly upon her shoulders, sliding slowly upward until he was able to cup her cheeks carefully between his scarred fingers. Her eyes, now wide with wonder rather than fear, looked up at him.

"You have done nothing which warrants an apology, my lady," Adar murmured giving her small smile. She was so beautiful, so fragile compared to him. He would risk no injury coming to her. Not even the discomfort of the abating cold; slowly, their breaths became less visible as the fire grew in the hearth. "Why did you not tell me about the state of your blanket?"

"I did not wish to trouble you, my lord," she answered sheepishly. "I had already requested a replacement from the head of the Men in our section, but I was told I'd have to speak with Waldreg. Given my previous encounters with him, I...decided that the cold was preferable."

Disquiet twisted within him. Waldreg was distasteful enough without having caused his lady trouble. He was quite certain he'd tear the little worm of a Man limb from limb with a grin on his lips if he dared harm his lady.

Adar would have to speak with him about that.

"Has he mistreated you?" He tried to keep his tone as steady as possible, but a slight edge still managed to creep in.

"He expressed a few less than polite sentiments, but no more. It is not a crime for him to dislike me, my lord," she said, but her attempt to calm his ire only made him angrier on her behalf. Would she not express her anger even at someone as wretched and cruel as Waldreg?

"In future, come directly to me. You need not be afraid. I would be pleased to assist you, my lady," he promised, and his heart stuttered as she nodded her head.

As soon as he left her shelter, he sought Waldreg. The miserable little rat had much to answer for.

--

As the winter winds began to wane, I found myself increasingly glad of Lord Adar's kindness. Not shivering through the night was a pleasant change. I'd thought that after our conversation he seemed rather tense, but thus far I had seen no results.

However, as I returned from harvesting a small bunch of mushrooms for the soup that night, a vicelike grip clamped around my arm, tugging me off balance and dragging me into the small, dark alleyway between two repurposed buildings.

A hand covered my mouth just as a knifepoint pressed cold and unyielding against my racing pulse.

"You vicious little bitch," a familiar voice snarled against my ear. "What lies did you tell him? How did you make him hate me?"

I whimpered but dared not move for fear of the sharp steel at my throat.

"'You will not treat my children or those pledged to me with disrespect,' he said. He's had me shoveling shit in the kennels for weeks, and word around camp is that he only came to me after speaking with you!" Waldreg sounded furious, and, indeed, I could detect the lingering scent of the wargs' leavings clinging to my attacker and his clothing. The more agitated he grew, the more his hands shook. Pain pricked my skin, and a hot red tear trickled down my throat staining the neckline of my dress. "What'd you do? Lift your skirt for him? Whisper in those ragged little ears of his? Give me one good reason I shouldn't gut you here and feed you to the wargs."

I began struggling in earnest, but his anger kept his grip tight. Still his hand covered my mouth, preventing any attempts at speech. A cruel laugh trickled across my ears, and he dragged his knife downwards until it rested directly above my heart.

"I thought not." I tried to cringe away, but that accomplished nothing save fueling the cruel old bastard's amusement as tears rolled down my cheeks. "Say goodnight!"

Instead of the bite of a blade, however, I was abruptly released. A gurgling sound came from behind me, and when I turned, I saw Lord Adar's gauntlet-covered hand lifting Waldreg off the ground by his throat. The cold glare on the Uruk's face revealed not a single mite of mercy for the Man thrashing in his grasp.

"My lady, go inside. I will join you in a moment," Adar called, and after a single shocked blink, I rushed off to do as he'd ordered. My basket lay in the mud, entirely forgotten amongst the chaos. A small crowd of Uruks had gathered around to witness Waldreg's demise and jeer at him, but I couldn't stay.

As terrible as he was, I didn't want to. Trembling, I closed the door after myself and stumbled toward my sleeping space. Quickly wrapping the blanket Adar had given me around my shoulders, I tried to steady my breathing instead of listening to the commotion outside.

I had no idea how long I'd been sitting there when the crowd fell silent and the door finally opened. Terrified that Waldreg had somehow survived and was coming to seek his revenge, I backed into the corner beside the hearth and tried to stay as small as possible.

I had no weapons with which to fight. Hiding would be my only chance to survive, especially if Adar had not been able to stop him.

--

"My lady?" Adar's voice called gently into the space, though he saw no sign of her. He spotted a small movement from the far side of the hearth. Why was she hiding? Her eyes were wide and fearful, even as he approached.

Suddenly, her assertion about Waldreg expressing 'a few less than polite sentiments, but no more' felt grossly incorrect. If she was this frightened, he must've threatened her.

Adar hoped that she heard him screaming his apologies before his death.

Or...could it be that he'd finally managed to frighten her with his cruelty? That thought sent a bolt of icy dread through him.

Dropping silently to his knees beside her, he unclipped his gauntlet and dropped it beside him. He wouldn't dare touch her while wearing it after it had touched that scum, not without cleaning it first. He offered her his hand, afterwards, and she accepted it without hesitation.

She needed no coaxing to come to him, shuffling over and resting before him on her knees with her blanket still around her shoulders.

"You need not fear, my lady. He will haunt your steps no more," he murmured, and the relieved little sniffle that escaped her had Adar moving closer and gently brushing her tears away with the pads of his thumbs.

His skin was rough, but he was careful. He didn't want to hurt her, or for her to fear him. She had every right to after she'd seen him lifting Waldreg off the ground in the midst of his rage. He certainly would not blame her, but he did not want that. If ever she shrank away from him as she'd tried to do from that contemptible worm earlier, he thought his heart may shatter irreparably.

So, with the most soothing tone he could muster - one he'd not used in over an Age - he placed a gentle kiss upon her brow and spoke.

"You are safe with me, híril vuin. None shall raise a hand to you again." Carefully, he pulled the edge of the blanket away just far enough to see the small trail of dried blood from where she'd been cut. Regret was as foul upon his tongue as bile.

He should have found them sooner. Moving away only long enough to fetch a pitcher of water and a cloth, Adar sat close to her upon his return. He began to wipe her skin clean in slow, careful strokes, murmuring quiet, earnest praise for how brave she'd been and for trusting him to help her.

She rested her cheek upon his shoulder as he set the cloth aside, prompting him instinctively to wrap his arms around her and brace his chin atop her head.

"Thank you, my lord," she breathed, and he was acutely aware of his own heart racing in his chest. Could she hear its rhythm even with the chestplate of his armor in the way?

As he began to tell her that he'd done no more than his duty, the door to her shelter opened, revealing the three other ladies who shared the small space with her. Adar grated at the interruption, despite their low curtsies as soon as they caught sight of him holding his lady in his arms.

"Sleep elsewhere tonight," he ordered them, and once they'd departed, he let out a tense breath. Speaking then to his lady, he softened his tone once more. "Tomorrow, I shall have you moved to chambers befitting one of your station."

She blinked beautifully up at him, dampness clinging to her lashes like dewdrops in the early morn.

"'My station,' my lord?"

A slow smile stretched his lips.

"Indeed. If you are to serve at the right hand of the Lord of Mordor, you cannot be seen huddling in the corner of a ruined shack."

Her eyes went wide, and her lips parted in a near-silent gasp.

"A-At your right hand?"

He nodded his head in confirmation.

"Assuming that such a thought appeals to you, of course," he said, but the smile that lit up her face told him all that he needed to know about her enthusiasm.

--

The next morning, I awoke wrapped in Lord Adar's arms and the blanket he'd given me. I should've felt embarrassment, but I could muster no more than a groggy sense that I was exactly where I was meant to be.

As soon as we managed to peel ourselves from the ground, we gathered my meager possessions, and Adar led me to the tavern. He had ruled from there since day one, but I hadn't been aware until that moment that he'd been living there as well. I supposed that his choice made sense. The upper level was where the owner used to live, having the benefit of a bedroom and a small bathing room complete with a claw-foot tub.

"Unless you object, we shall be sharing the bedroom," he explained as we climbed the creaky wooden staircase. "I'm afraid that there was little more than a musty mattress here to begin with, so I'll have a second bedroll brought up today. If there is anything you require once you have settled in, please do not hesitate to tell me."

"Thank you, my lord," I replied, and as I set myself up on one side of the room directly across from his own sleeping area, one of his children called him away to handle a conflict on the other side of the camp.

Late that night, I walked into the small communal area where Lord Adar sat by the fire, gazing into its depths as if it held the answers to all of his questions. Not wishing to disturb his thoughts, I began to move away, but a quiet call of my name in that deliciously raspy voice of his froze me in place.

"Is everything to your satisfaction, my lady?" He called, and I turned to find his gaze already fixed on me.

"Yes, my lord," I murmured, "thank you for allowing me to stay here."

"The pleasure is mine. Come, warm yourself by the fire," he offered, and I dropped to my knees on the furs beside him. We sat in companionable silence for a while with only the crackling of the fire in the grate reaching our ears. "Something troubles you, does it not?"

I nodded my head and he tilted his own beside me.

"Tell me." Despite his soft tone, the command made me bite my lip.

"I...My lord, given the new position with which you have honored me, I believe it..." I stumbled over the words, eventually taking a deep breath to compose myself. "Would it not be inappropriate for me to continue in this particular role without having sworn my loyalty to you?"

The question came out in a breathless rush, but Adar either did not notice over the hissing of the fire or he was too polite to comment upon it.

"So far as all the others are concerned, you did so before we ever took your village." His eyes skimmed the length of my face as he spoke. "As you will recall, I promised you that I would not force you to do so."

"And you have kept to your word," I began. "I have not felt coerced. I offer my loyalty to you freely."

Adar sat up straighter and drew in a sharp breath.

"You only need do so if you truly wish for us to be bound," he said placing his hand softly atop mine where it rested amongst the furs. His eyes searched mine as if trying to determine whether I was serious.

"I'm certain, my lord," I said, and he, apparently finding what he was looking for, gave a solemn nod of his head.

"Very well. As with your kin, Black Speech is not a language known to you, thus I will not require your vow in that tongue," he murmured, and I couldn't stop the question that fell from my lips.

"Would it be possible to learn at some point?"

Adar smiled, a mix of pride and surprise playing across his features in the glowing, flickering light of the fire.

"I shall teach you personally, híril vuin," he promised, and his expression became more serious. "Have you ever sworn loyalty to another?"

"No, my lord."

"Do you recall the words being spoken during the oaths of fealty given by your people?"

"Yes, my lord." I bowed my head, intending to show my respect in that manner, but warm, gentle fingers grasped my chin and lifted my head back up. Adar's gaze met my own, and unless the firelight was deceiving me, I saw a soft sort of affection swimming in his eyes as he looked at me.

"Before all else, I wish you to swear that you will never bow to me unless I explicitly give you the order to do so," he rasped as his thumb brushed over my lower lip.

"I swear it, my lord. I will not bow to you unless you give me the order to do so." Having extracted that promise, he seemed satisfied to allow me to continue as I had been. His fingers fell away from my chin only to grasp my own and lay them atop his chest where beneath his heart lay beating. "I hereby swear my allegiance to you, Adar, Lord-Father of the Uruks, founder of the land of Mordor...and protector of mortal children silly enough to wander the forest alone. This I pledge from now until the last breath leaves my body."

Adar listened with something akin to wonder in his eyes, and when I finished, his gaze strayed down to my lips. But...something seemed off.

"Is...something amiss, my lord? I could always use different words, if you prefer...?"

He shook his head quietly.

"There was no fault in your diction."

"Then...what troubles you?" I asked, unconsciously repeating his own words from earlier. He shifted before me, as if he was bothered by what he was about to say. Regretful, perhaps?

"An oath means little on its own," Adar murmured unsheathing a small knife that he'd apparently concealed upon his person. "Only blood can bind."

Whose blood did he mean? Did he want me to use it on myself? Did he wish to use it on me? Or did he want me to use it on us both?

An idea struck me, and I grasped my necklace in the palm of my left hand. Carefully, I set his knife aside, guiding his gauntlet-covered hand over mine. Looking into his eyes, I felt the unyielding metal dig into the soft skin of my hand. Without warning, I squeezed his hand, which in turn forced the sharp, ancient metal deep enough into my skin to draw blood. As comprehension dawned in his eyes, his pupils dilated, and something resembling hunger turned his gaze into a blazing flame boring into me.

His hand released mine long enough for the pendant to fall from my grasp, and when he turned my palm upwards, twin gashes welled with blood. Swallowing heavily, Adar lifted my hand, and as his lips met crimson, his eyes sought mine.

A gasp tumbled from my throat as his tongue lapped slowly at my skin, just barely grazing the inner edges of the two weeping cuts. It stung, of course, but the pain combined with such a ravenous stare from the Uruk lord sent a wave of heat rushing between my legs.

A breathy, wanton whimper escaped me, and in a blink, I found myself on my back atop the furs with my lord straddling my hips. He pressed my bleeding palm against his cheek, and, bracing his free hand on the floor beside my head, Adar placed a line of fiery kisses along the column of my throat from hollow to chin with his blood-drenched lips.

I'd wanted him to look at me like this, to touch me and desire me like this, from the moment we were reunited, and now that he was, it was as though my very soul had been lit aflame. I wanted everything he wished to give me, and then some.

Before his mouth had the chance to claim mine, however, there was a rough knock on the door. Adar pulled back a few inches, and we stared into each other's eyes, panting together as reality sank back in and a second knock sounded.

"I think you ought to retire for the night, my lady," he rasped laying a final kiss upon my palm before getting to his feet. My blood was a dark red streak upon his face, but he seemed not to care. He called for whoever was at the door to wait a moment, taking the time to help me to my feet and bidding me goodnight before seeing to our caller. His lips were still the deep red shade of the life flowing through my mortal veins.

I hurried up the stairs to our shared sleeping space before I could see who'd interrupted us. With a quick glance into the cracked fragment of a mirror stowed in the corner of the room, I saw a sloppy, red trail where Adar's lips had been.

I didn't bother to clean it off before I crawled into my bedroll, choosing instead to slip my fingers beneath my smallclothes as I recalled the feeling of him doing as he wished with me. With a broken, muffled whine of his name against my blanket, I found completion, but a part of me wondered how much more satisfying it would have been had his fingers been in place of mine.

--

The next fortnight felt as though it was a specialized form of torture. Adar seemed to be called away by a never-ending series of problems that required solutions. Often his day began earlier than I awoke and ended long after I'd retired to bed. Ensuring I'd completed every task he'd left for me was the least I could do considering how busy his own position kept him.

Occasionally, we did still manage to sneak a meal or a short conversation with one another, but we had yet to discuss what had happened the night I pledged myself to him. Almost every night, the memory of the hunger in his eyes drove me to desperation, haunting my dreams and forcing me to muffle my cries as I tended to my own burning desire.

One of the few times he returned before I fell asleep, I'd just whimpered his name into my pillow. As he ascended the staircase, I heard his footsteps, and I tried to muffle my shame as it was too late to stop entirely. The fear of discovery lanced through me as I heard him approach the door. I tried to steady my breathing, and hoped that in the low lighting, he would not notice how disheveled I looked.

Either I was successful, or he was in a sadistic mood, because he sidled over to his own bedroll and began stripping down. I'd seen him without the armor before, but when he shucked off his upper garments, the sight of his scarred, toned torso was enough to make me bite my tongue to stifle a gasp.

The outline of his masculinity in his trousers as he laid his clothing in a neat pile sent a fresh wave of wetness soaking my inner thighs. Oh, how was I meant to sleep after seeing...that?

Adar laid down, and just when I thought he'd fallen asleep, his voice broke through the silence.

"Sweet dreams, my lady." I could hear the teasing smile in his voice.

Oh. My cheeks burned at the realization that he'd likely heard me.

"...Good night, my lord," I murmured, hating how shaky I sounded.

--

Spring changed very few things in Mordor, save the temperatures, yet with each passing day, Adar's lady seemed to smile just a little wider.

He wanted to give her more reasons to do so, however. It was not enough that they had been living in close quarters since that night in her shelter. It was not enough that he'd made her smile and laugh before. Adar needed to do it again.

But more than that, he needed to hear those things which it was not at all civilized to consider. It was not enough that he had tasted her blood and her skin and her racing pulse. He'd heard her make beautiful, pleasure-filled sounds when she thought he was out of earshot or asleep. But it was never enough. He needed to hear her moan his name, to see her arch her back beneath him in the throes of ecstasy. He needed her.

Teasing her had been as much a torture for him as it likely was for her. Adar had become addicted to pain in one form or another over the millennia, and the mental strain of denying himself the pleasure of her touch was not unfamiliar, but it was forcing him to a breaking point, nonetheless. He knew that he would likely snap as he had when she'd sworn him her loyalty. That rush had been like a dam releasing an unstoppable flood, his hunger turning him into a ravenous beast.

She hadn't minded, as he thought she might. She'd enjoyed it. The sight of her lying beneath him panting as her blood practically dripped from his lips made him achingly hard each time he dwelled upon the memory for too long.

Still, she deserved better. Better than him, better than a moment of animalistic need. He found himself wondering about how best to give her all of himself.

Adar supposed that was how he'd ended up in the doorway of the small bathing room. The claw-footed tub was filled with steaming water as he'd ordered, and relaxing within it was his lady. She'd deserved a moment of peace after having completed every single task he'd given her with such dedication. It was a small reward, hardly as much as she deserved, but at the moment, it was all he could give.

He tried not to allow his gaze to drop beneath the water's surface, but his restraint was weak after the last two weeks of self-imposed denial. Truly, he intended merely to check that she was well, but the temptation of seeing her soft skin dripping with hot water was too great. The Lord of Mordor lingered in the doorway just long enough to feel his lower garments grow tight, and for her eyes to meet his as his lust clawed at his restraint.

As a moth drawn to a flame, he found himself walking slowly into the room, summoned by her curious gaze. The hot water reached her collarbones, and Adar felt the urge rising within him to claim her.

He knelt beside the tub, his face mere inches from her own, and removed his armor, gauntlet and all. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and dipped a washcloth into the hot water. The back of his hand brushed against the swell of her breast, and they both let out quiet gasps.

Still, Adar refused to look down into the depths of the sage blossom oil scented water. Wringing the washcloth out until it was just wet enough for him to clean his face, he began to do so, only for his lady to take it from his hands. With her breasts pressed up against the side of the tub, her soft, gentle fingers held his head in place as she carefully wiped away the grime.

Without a word, he turned his head and kissed her palm where twin scars were already forming. Adar would've preferred that she spill his own blood - that was what he'd originally intended - but since she'd chosen that pain, the least he could do was show the proper amount of reverence for her actions.

"Is there anything you need, Adar?" Her voice was shaky and breathless as it so often was when he caught her off-guard.

"No. This night is for you. Relax as long as you wish," he murmured, but as he stood to leave her in peace, he noted that she tried valiantly to hide her disappointment. Without turning back - if he did, he might do something impulsive - he called over his shoulder, "Patience, my lady, and you shall have all that you desire."

His hardness did not abate until long after they'd settled into their bedrolls and her breathing had evened out in the serenity of sleep.

Adar could not wait much longer. Her sweetness was as a siren's call to him.

Thus, his plan began to form. Once the spring was fully upon them, he approached her as he often did for conversation.

"My lady, I wonder if you might spare me a moment of your time?" He asked, and she smiled joyfully up at him - truly, that should not have made his heart stutter the way it did.

"Of course, my lord. You may have as much of my time as you desire," she replied, and oh, she had no idea what she was offering!

"Do you enjoy riding horses?"

She tilted her head curiously, but the way her smile widened had him mentally congratulating himself for selecting this particular tactic.

"I do, though, it has been quite some time since I've had the opportunity."

"Come," he urged offering her his hand. She didn't hesitate to take it. The feeling of her touch would be seared into his mind for as long as he lived. Drawing her close, he lowered his voice to a whisper. "I intend to steal you away."

Her lips parted in surprise, and just as he was about to apologize for his forthrightness, she squeezed his fingers in hers.

"I could not hope to be stolen by any more worthy." His breath hitched in his chest, and he tamped down the temptation to skip his plan entirely and take her atop his own sleeping furs. No. He'd been alive since before the waking of the world. He could wait a little longer.

"Then, maybe I should play the part...?" Adar suggested with a mischievous smirk. Before she could ask what he meant, he lifted her by the waist, tossed her over his shoulder - an action which tugged a surprised shriek from her lips - and carried her to his horse that way.

"My lord!"

"My lady!" He called back in answer as he felt her gentle, mortal hands lay across the back of his armor. Surely she knew he would never drop her?

Soon, he placed her atop his mount, and she giggled breathlessly at the situation. Her mussed hair and bright eyes lit a spark within his heart, and lower, not that he would admit it to any, save her. Swinging up easily, he settled in behind her, grasping the horse's reins in one hand and bracing the other over the softness of her diaphragm. As close as they were, he was in the perfect position to whisper in her ear.

"Fear not, my lady," he breathed, "you shan't fall."

One of her hands covered his, and he urged their horse forward. For nearly two hours they rode, crossing from ashen, desolate terrain into the gentle rolling grasses of the land beyond Mordor's fiery shadow.

The rhythmic roll of her hips against his became almost hypnotic. The Lord of Mordor he might be, but his restraint was still utterly devastated by her. They dismounted when they reached a meadow peppered with small saplings.

Tying their horse's reins to a sturdy one, Adar offered his lady his hand. The sun was just beginning to glow a gentle orange. It would set soon, and he greatly desired to see his lady bathed in starlight.

"It is no secret that I favor you, my lady," Adar began as they wandered leisurely amongst the blooming flowers, and that was the closest he'd ever come to an admission...to a confession of that nature. "Even the Uruks farthest from the center of our camp know that I...that you are under my protection."

"Indeed. I would say that is true," she agreed, clearly not certain at what point he was driving with his rambling. "I am honored beyond words to have your favor and protection, my lord–"

"Adar. Here - anywhere away from prying eyes and unwelcome ears - you may call me Adar," he corrected gently, and her fingers squeezed his in gratitude. "I brought you here today, because I wish to ask for your counsel."

"You shall always have it, Adar," she assured, "though, I am not certain what advice I could provide that would be wiser than your own. I have very little experience with war and strategy."

He stopped walking and turned to face her - a mistake, because she was almost ethereally encompassed by the warmth of the sunset. He swallowed heavily to recover his voice.

"It is not war about which I require your thoughts," he began, bringing her hand to his ruined lips. "I have lived in shadow for so long, yet recently I have found myself prey to a feeling which I have not experienced in many Ages."

She tilted her head curiously.

"What might that be?"

Adar reached gently toward her with his free hand, cupping her cheek.

"Love," he rasped, looking into her eyes, hoping she would catch the meaning within his words. Admitting that a horrid creature like him had fallen head over heels for a beautiful being like her was tantamount to sacrilege. Yet...in several instances, he believed that he'd seen his own affection reflected in her eyes. Indeed, the moans he'd heard from her would seem to indicate that she desired him.

But it was too much to hope that she could love him. He was certain she desired him, but...love? Could a Human woman truly love an Uruk when the rest of her kind looked down on them in scorn and disgust? Had he been a fool to bring her here?

She stepped closer to him, looking up into his eyes–

Her expression stole his breath. He had not hung the stars in the sky, nor had he wrought treasures like the Silmarils. He had not created even a single thing of beauty. All he'd done was try to give his children a home.

And yet...she looked at him as though he was more worthy of praise than the most virtuous of kings, the most honorable of knights, and the most devoted of husbands. Could it be possible?

Could she...?

"I am afraid that I have little experience with love, Adar, but I will help if I can." As afraid as he might be of losing her, he must speak now or lose her forever.

"In your opinion, who is worthy of love?" He asked, and she let out a small huff of laughter, as if the question was a foolish one. "Have I said something amusing?"

"A bit," she admitted, but she was quick to place her free hand over his heart, "but not in the way you might think. Everyone is worthy of love, even - and, perhaps, most especially - the Lord-Father of the Uruks."

Was he truly so transparent that she could see his fears so easily? Or had she managed to worm her way so far into his heart without his knowledge that it was already a bosom companion to her own?

"...And you have it." His eyes snapped back up to hers - when had he looked away? His hunger and adoration for her rose up in a great wave, consuming him from the inside as he wove his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck and drew her into a passionate kiss.

He'd dreamed of having her pressed up against him, of drinking her pleasure from her lips.

She moaned into Adar's mouth, and he was struck by the realization that she was so much better than any phantom images that his imagination could conjure. He dragged his lips and teeth to the corner of her jaw, and spoke in a hoarse, rasping whisper.

"I need you as I need air, meleth-nin." He grasped her waist as her arms drew him ever closer. "You steal my breath, yet without you I cannot breathe. Have mercy...Have mercy upon your most devoted servant..."

As the orange sky bled pink, his lips trailed down her neck, savoring those places which had driven him to the edge of madness when he sampled her before the fire. His name escaped her lips on the back of a desperate whine.

"What do you need? Tell me," Adar breathed, and she tilted her head to offer him more of her neck.

"Take me, touch me, please! I'll be good, so good, only for you," she begged, and the sound went straight to the stiffening length between his legs. He would love nothing more than to have her beg for him all night, but this time she would have no need to. Tonight, the beginning of their time as one, he would fulfill her every desire with a minimum of teasing. He'd done too much of that of late.

Her fingers dove into his hair, and a moan poured from his throat, rumbling against her pretty skin.

"Is that what you want? Do you wish to be a good girl for me?" She released a varied stream of yeses and pleas for him to do as he wished with her, and he acceded to her request with a kiss, quelling any doubt she may have had that he would do this for her. He would do anything for her, even unto the destruction of Middle Earth. "Do you wish to be mine?"

"Yes!" Her answer was akin to a desperate sob, and he wasted no time, immediately indulging her.

Tugging his cloak from his armor, Adar spread it over the grass. He would not have her dress covered in stains, nor grass blades stuck to her skin. The cloth created a sharp contrast - an onyx patch amidst a sea of pinks, purples, reds, and yellows - the dark to the meadow's light, just as she was the light to his darkness. She completed him, enthralled him, drove him mad, and tonight he would show her just how much.

She went for the ties fastening her dress, but he caught her hands in his and took over. She was a gift more precious than anything which the Valar could bestow upon their servants, and he would unwrap her accordingly.

As the laces binding the back of her dress fell away one at a time, Adar explored his lover's mouth with all the tenderness and gentleness that his cruel, twisted body could muster. He hadn't even realized that her tricky little fingers had begun to fiddle with his armor until his breastplate fell away.

In a flurry of discarded garments, they were each revealed to the other in all their beauty and all their flaws. Their shared vulnerability stilled their hands for an anxious moment, but only for a moment.

Adar's breath hitched in his chest when the soft lips he'd tasted mere seconds before connected with the scarred flesh over his heart. He'd expected pity, fear, regret - not reverence. Instead, as she looked up at him, he saw nothing but sincerity in her expression.

"You are gorgeous," she said, as though she could not tell that he had but one part of his body which was untouched by scars.

...As though she meant it. He realized with a sharp intake of breath that she did. She grasped his hands and they sank onto his cloak together, she on her back and he kneeling between her legs. His interest jutted toward her, but he could not find it within himself to be ashamed, not when he was with her. Not when a piece of his armor hung on a chain around her neck, resting comfortably above her breast.

"There is no beauty finer in this world than yours."

Spread nude before him over his cloak, Adar's lady looked up at him with an adoration he had not believed possible. Not when directed at an Uruk such as he. His lips met hers once more, but this time, he forced himself to be much more controlled. He wanted her, yes, but he also wanted her to know that she had his love.

Kissing his way steadily down her body, the Lord-Father of the Uruks had no doubt that he must look as hungry for her as he felt. Practically feral with pent-up desire, he needed her writhing on his tongue. His hands trembled with the effort it took to slow his movements, to take his time.

Abruptly, as his eyes met hers from between her legs, he realized that she very much had the capacity to destroy him. With a single declaration of hatred or a look of disgust, she could easily take his stone heart and pulverize it into powder.

How easily could she shred beyond repair what little remained of his soul!

Not even Morgoth had been able to do that. This mortal woman, this sweet, brave lady had no idea of the power that she possessed. The smart thing to do - the strategically wise path - would have been to kill her then and there while she lay vulnerable and trusting before him, begging for one more touch, one more kiss, one more moan, one more scrap of his attention.

Instead, he picked up his discarded gauntlet and slid her much smaller hand inside it. The clasps were quick work, and though she looked confused at first, once he lifted her thighs over his shoulders and guided her hand to his hair, understanding dawned in her eyes. She understood. He wanted her to feel powerful. She was his equal and she deserved to know it.

Even with sharp, unyielding metal covering her fingertips, they scraped so gently over his scalp as he lost himself in the flood between her thighs. She moaned and whimpered, squirming in his hold, but through it all, she never once hurt him.

Adar knew that she wouldn't. Even as she cried out his name for all the world to hear, drenching his tongue and chin, her grip in his hair was careful. Her thighs tensed in his grasp, squeezing his head in an intoxicating vice. Groaning and snarling against her sensitive folds, he couldn't bring himself to pull away until she was shaking in the midst of over-sensitivity.

"Adar, please," she breathed as he moved up her body. Hunger raged and burned in his eyes - he could deny himself no longer. Grasping her wrists, he pinned them easily above her head as he claimed her lips. His tongue delved into the softness of her mouth, taking with it the lingering taste of her.

Her legs wrapped around his hips, drawing him close enough for his tip to catch on her entrance. With synchronized groans, he pressed inside of her, joining their bodies together as one.

Profane language not meant for the ears of such a creature as her spilled from his throat in a guttural stream of Black Speech. Dipping his head, Adar moaned against her breast and surged forward, drawing a sinful mewl from deep within her throat.

"You have me. You take me so well," he praised in a raspy whisper, nibbling at her earlobe as he thrust into her slowly. Gradually, she stripped him of his sense and control, tugging from within him a steady flow of praise and filth in Elvish and Black Speech - promises to treasure her for the rest of his days, to protect her, and to draw from her so many screams each night that all of Mordor would be unable to deny his claim over her.

When she managed to roll her hips beneath him to meet his thrusts, begging him to use her, to ruin her, what could he do but grant his lady's wish?

In a quick movement, he'd repositioned them both so that she was astride his hips. Pulling her arms behind her back and tugging slightly so that her chest was pushed toward him, Adar looked into her eyes.

"If you wish your lord to use you, then move those hips," he ordered. Leaning in, he brushed a few strands of her hair behind her ear and whispered a bit more gently to her. "Ride me, meleth. Show me that I have you."

She obeyed him instantly, finding a steady rhythm which, aided by his fingers toying with her clit, would have her tipping over the edge in mere moments. Indeed, her hips soon stuttered, and he gripped the back of her neck, forcing her eyes to meet his.

"Do not look away. Look at the pleasure I can give you," he commanded, and as she nodded frantically, beginning to fall apart, he felt his heart stutter in his chest. "Yes, look upon the Uruk who loves you."

At that, she sobbed and collided firmly with her orgasm. She fluttered around his length, calling his name in lovelorn whimpers and gasps.

Who needed Valinor when she was its very embodiment?

He released her wrists, and she threw her arms around his neck, claiming his lips with her own. His hands slid down her back, landing squarely on her hips. Holding her steady, Adar thrust up into her, making her yelp in surprise. He needed very little now; he was close.

"Where do you wish me?" Adar breathed against her lips, and he could feel the heat burning her cheeks.

"Inside," she answered hiding her face against his neck, and he moaned against her shoulder. Her name tore from him in an almost pained whine as he spilled within her. He clutched her to him so tightly that he'd undoubtedly left bruises in his wake, but he would kiss them all in apology when they'd caught their breath.

Neither seemed eager to release the other, so in their embrace they remained exploring one another with gentle fingers and loving lips until long after the moon had risen and stars had winked their way into the sky. When he dared to lean back far enough to look into her eyes, Adar was met with love bathed in glittering starlight.

He wondered if he'd hurt her, but the smile stretching her lips said otherwise. The armor piece that she'd made into a necklace still rested upon the smooth expanse of her chest - a perfect accompaniment to his gauntlet upon her arm.

The ride back to camp seemed too short by far, but their bedrolls - which would soon be joined into one - called out to them so sweetly. Adar was used to the bows and deference he received from his children, but he knew in his heart that his decision had been right when upon their return he heard the Uruks repeating a particular phrase as they passed.

His lover had heard part of it before, but now there were a few more words to it.

"What is that they keep saying?" She whispered the question to him, and he couldn't keep himself from smiling proudly. "It sounds familiar, but different."

"'Tis Black Speech. They are saying 'make way for the Lord and Lady of Mordor,'" he answered kissing her temple as they approached their home.

~*~*~

Taglist:

@bigblissandlove1 @horta-in-charge @gandalfthepimp

[plumipal]

Chat, as an artist, I tend to draw. Shocker I know. Some stuff never makes it past drafting tho, so I wanna share it here lmfao, these plans or scenarios may be revisited later on yknow, you never know with me and rehashing ideas :P

Kalim, what can I say. I swear this was for a convo I had with my pookie @artdolliewishes bur I do not remember, it's so fucking funny who WHY IS HE LOLKING LIEK THAT-

Next is also a drawing from our endless convos, a matching phoencharm idea for adeuce and you, specifically in the tattoo au as to show that adeuce won, leading to more desperate forms of trying to get you for themselves from the rest fo the students.

Once again from a convo believe. Why they looking like that tho? Idk they're ugly.

This is how Ace looks when he gets rejected trust, this is ace heartbreak. I swear I have this animated somewhere I'll see if I can find it.

Next, this I believe was a loooooong post idea where you do a "hear me out" cake with adeuce, only for them to each whip out a pic of you and put on the cake (as a sort of confession), leading to the other reacting about the confession and said trend. Either was gonna make you get together with adeuce or just leave it up to interpretation.

Next was the "invented " designs of the characters (aka "we have twst at home"), this still makes me crack up

Next was a scenario with yan Riddle. This one is pretty old, seen as I used the coloring brush as lineart instead of my dumbass ms paint brush. I still like it tho, but eh.

Same with this Trey drawing. I believe I was gonna make him "you can trust me, im an ordnary older brother achtype and totally normal" like he wouldn't lick your teeth when you kiss him.

I also have this really fucking dumb artwork of azul in my sensory overload (YABABAINA esk) style, he is so colorful mmm I love :P this style is just so fun to draw in trust

And I think that's all, I swear I have more shit stashed away I just can't find it lmfao- but yeah hope you all enjoy.

[kmt123whatsthetea]

Beauty in Innocence

Fred Weasley x reader

Requested by: @amathilofgondor

Request gist: Fred Weasley dating an adorable and innocent reader but he craves to destroy her in bed. He doesn't know how to present the idea of rough sex since they have only just started getting sexual.

A/N: Thanks for the request! For this fic, I didn't know whether you wanted the reader to be a virgin or not so I went for she’s not a virgin but still pretty innocent to things like different kinks and any sex that isn't vanilla. I also went down the route of the reader wanting Fred to teach her what he likes, that sort of thing. Also, in this fic the wizarding community have televisions and electronic devices. I've mentioned a pornographic video which will be in apostrophes.

T/W: Fred is a bit of a sex pest, brief mention of a Daddy kink, Fred maybe being a bit dark and dirty, attempted groping?, intense pornographic videos? (mentions of BDSM, pinching and spanking), Fred kinda uses her innocence to talk dirty (not like an insult but a bit mocking), nicknames, rough sex, mentions of corruption, unprotected sex, no aftercare (not a ‘Fred being mean’ thing)

Fred's girlfriend. The girl who surprised all of Fred’s friends when they first met her.

Fred was a dirty devil. He always had a crude joke or quip. At bars and clubs, he was always the first one to chat up any girl he saw. Poor George suffered the most (even giving him a silencing charm after having to hear a girl call him ‘Daddy’ through the walls of their shared flat).

And then there was you. Fred’s dirty quips had your cheeks red with blush. His dirty jokes had you squirming as if you'd never heard such a lewd joke before. Like an angel whose ears had never heard the likes of Fred Weasley.

Don't get me wrong, Fred’s friends and family adored the sweet girl on Fred’s arm just as much as he did. But Fred more than adored you.

He desired you.

The way you were so innocent drove him mad. The way you'd bat your eyelashes when he made a dirty remark, like a confused baby deer. He even loved how innocent you were during movie nights. He was driving himself mad.

A part of him felt guilty for wanting more. He didn't want you to think it was because you weren't enough. The truth was, Fred is insatiable. Even the tiniest moan from your lips had him as hard as stone. He kept thinking about your first time together. It was the opposite of what Fred was used to. It was…sweet. Filled with soft kisses and a loving embrace while he slowly pushed into you. As much as he loved those tender moments, he craved to hold you down and fuck that pussy that got so wet for him. He needed to hear those needy sounds you'd make.

He’d run out of patience. Everytime he tried to approach the conversations, he’d freeze up. One idea he had was when you were both cuddling on the sofa. His hands slowly moved from your waist. His lips brushed along the skin of your neck, his hand stroking your inner thigh. Your soft whines and squirms made him think that you weren't ready for what he wanted to do to you, causing his hands to slowly retreat.

Little did he know that you were curious about his blatantly obvious attempt at a conversation and wandering hands. You'd heard things from his friends about how sexually active he seemed to be prior to you and it made you curious about the sort of things that he was into. You wanted him to be the one to teach you, to show you this world of sexual depravity that he knew so well. Maybe it was a primal nagging in your head or just the desire for him to be happy in every aspect of your relationship.

Fred’s last ditch attempt to express his desires included the one thing he knew best: pornography. With his laptop in hand, he approached you in the bedroom.

“Hey love, I want to show you something, see what you think”

He put the laptop in front of you, showing a black screen. But when he pressed play, it was far beyond anything you ever expected him to show you.

‘The woman in the video was tied down to a bed, her arms to the headboard and her legs spread. With the woman blindfolded and naked, another pair of hands appeared from off screen. The hands pinched and slapped the woman's inner thigh, getting closer and closer to her twitching pussy’.

Fred kept his eyes on your reaction, watching how your cheeks got darker and your breathing got heavier, only things that he would notice within seconds. He figured that if he couldn't tell you what he wanted, he’d show you.

‘The hand’s trailed higher, spanking the woman's clit, making her jolt and yelp’.

Fred heard the breath you sucked in, his hopes rising that you'll enjoy it.

‘A man came into frame, getting between the womens open thighs. Teasing his tip through her folds, he thrusted his cock into the hilt. His hips were like pistons, not stopping for a second. No matter how much the woman moaned and squirmed, he kept fucking her now dripping hole’.

You looked up at Fred. At first, he was worried you’d ask him to turn it off or tell him that it looked too rough and harmful. But he swore he heard angels sing when that normally innocent, sweet voice asked the most heavenly words he’d ever heard.

“Can we try something like that?”

Fred’s grin practically doubled in size, his arms snaked around your waist. He kissed the shell of your ear before whispering softly.

“My sweet girl wants me to do something so dirty to her?”

The needy “Yes” you replied with made his heart beat faster. This was confirmation to take you like he needed, to ravage you, to break you down and rebuild you with little pieces of himself woven in. He closed the laptop and moved it to the nightstand before laying you down. He crawled up your body, stalking like a predator. His hands trailed up your outer thighs, pushing your nightie up to your abdomen.

His thumb found the seat of your underwear, smearing the wet patch that had formed.

“And here I thought my girl was innocent. You liked watching that dirty video, baby? Your wet little cunt seemed to enjoy it.”

Every slight buck of your hips, every whimper, every moan. He absorbed it all, watching with beady eyes as if he'd never see something so beautiful again.

Your pouty voice caught him off guard.

“Please Freddie, more”

And who was he to deny?

Ripping your underwear down your legs, he pushed your thighs open. All that restraint, all that time of treating you like a porcelain doll, was gone for a minute, leaving pure need and lust. He stared at your open pussy like an animal who had finally found the source of a delectable scent. He had to stop himself from salivating at such a perfect sight.

His hands moved to pull his cock out, leaving you with a mental message to keep your thighs open for him. He lined his cock up and stopped for a moment, looking up at you. It was like his demeanour shifted for a split second.

“If you need me to stop pretty girl, just tell me”

You gave him a usual sweet smile and a nod, finding it heartwarming that he was still a sweetheart even in such an intimate moment.

He slowly pushed in, bottoming out and taking a minute to bask in your warmth surrounding him. When his hips started moving, he set a pace that you weren't used to. It was faster, his hips slapping against yours. The band in your stomach felt like it was tightening faster than usual.

“How can such a sweet girl be so dirty? Maybe i've corrupted you, angel”

His dirty words were new to your ears, but they caused you to clench around him. They only drove you closer and closer to a feeling you didn't know you craved so much. His hand came down to rub your clit in messy circles, and that's all it took.

Your moans filled the room and your walls pulsated around him, cumming harder than you had before. He kept fucking you through your orgasm, staving off his own orgasm. Your body trembled beneath him, arms reaching for his comfort, which he gave without a second thought.

Fred wasn't going to last much longer, so he pulled out and used his hand, stroking himself at the same pace he had fucked you. Spurts of his cum painted your stomach until he was spent. He laid himself down next to you after wiping your stomach clean, the both of you trying to catch your breath. He stroked your arm, keeping his eyes on your face for any signs of discomfort. You turned to lay on your side, snuggling into him.

“Can we do that again soon, Freddie?”

His corrupted angel was full of surprises.

[covenofagatha]

hey soooooo if your requests are still open... what do you think about a pt. 3 with Father Agatha where she fucks reader on the altar with her strap (the church is empty)... like... and Agatha has reader recite the Rosary, and for every mystery completed reader gets an orgasm... and maybe Agatha has like a breeding kink sort of and says she wants to make reader the next virgin mary...

obviously if you want and feel comfortable with all this, i really truly love all your stories!!

Hooooooly shit this was insane i immediately had to write this

also the rosary is so long 😩

Forgive me, Father (part 3)

What the request said lol

Word count: 3200

Warnings: light bondage, religious sex, altar sex, fingering, oral, strap on, cum lube, breeding kink, spanking, dubcon, priest agatha is so corrupt, naive reader, think this is it

The next time you go to confession, you don’t even make it into the booth before Father Agatha intercepts you, almost like she’s been waiting. 

“Come back for more, angel?” She asks, sitting in a pew, facing the altar. You almost walked right by her without noticing. 

You look around the rest of the church. There’s no one else in sight. She taps the spot on the bench next to her and you sit. 

Just the close proximity makes your heart beat faster. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask. 

Father Agatha shrugs. “I like to sit in here when it’s empty and pray. Helps me connect with God, I can hear him better.” 

You frown and try to quiet your thoughts and your breathing to see if you can hear anything. “What is God saying right now?” If you had looked closer, you would’ve seen the smirk on her lips as you played right into her trap before she reset her face.

“Nothing good,” she sighs heavily and your eyes widen in fear. “Do you remember the Annunciation?” 

“Of course,” you answer with a nod. “When the angel Gabriel came down and told Mary that she was pregnant with Jesus because she had found favor with God.” You had strived to live a life as pure as Mary had, and thanks to Father Agatha, you feel like you’re on the right path.

She gives you a wry smile, her eyes still racked with seriousness. “And do you remember why God sent his only son down to us?” 

“To save us from sin,” you say immediately. The most noble sacrifice anyone could make. 

“And it worked for a while,” Father Agatha says sadly. “But now sin is running rampant again. However, God has an idea for how to stop it.” 

Your mouth falls open a little. You had no idea it was getting that bad out in the world. You make it your mission to help the priest, no matter what it takes. “What does He need? What can we do?” 

“Another vessel, for another child. A pure of heart maiden, just like Mary was,” she says, finally meeting your eyes. Your heart skips a beat. 

“Me? Carry God’s child? But–” 

She cuts you off. “Proverbs 3:5 says, ‘Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.’ I know it may be scary, angel, but I am here to help. I will shepherd the child unto you, if you so wish to help God in this way.” 

You think for a moment, weighing your options. It has always been a dream to be a true steward of the Lord, and everyone has to do their part. You remember a verse from Psalms. “The Lord is my strength and my shield; in him my heart trusts, and I am helped; my heart exults, and with my song I give thanks to him,” you recite and Agatha smiles, very pleased. 

She stands up, brushing past you and walking up the stairs to the altar. You follow her. 

“How is this going to work?” You question. The Bible doesn’t go into specifics with Mary.

“Patience, angel,” Father Agatha says, pulling out the bread and wine of Christ for Communion and a rosary. “There are many things we will need to do in order to get you ready to take the child.” 

She holds up the wafer and you bow, holding out your hands. She doesn’t move, just raises an eyebrow. You stand there for a second, dumbfounded. 

“What are other ways you can take Communion?” She says, glancing down to the floor. A light clicks in your head and, for the third time in front of her, you drop to your knees. 

This time, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue, and she places the bread on it, holding eye contact. Her gaze burns into you and you can’t help but feel that same heat you always do with her. Once you swallow, she presses the chalice of wine to your lips and you let her pour some down your throat. 

The air is so charged around the two of you and you wonder if this is part of the ceremony. 

“Stand up,” she orders and you shoot to your feet. She flips you around and lifts you up so you’re sitting on the altar and you gasp. 

“I can’t be on this,” you protest but she shushes you. 

“It’s okay, angel,” she says soothingly, hands coming to rub your thighs. Her touch feels good and it momentarily makes you forget about your qualms. “God will allow it since he knows the burden you’re about to bear. Now, do you remember that special toy I used on you last time?” 

You nod, feeling the wetness in your underwear grow as you think back to that memory. The way it felt so big, the way it stretched you out, the way it felt when you orgasmed over it. 

Father Agatha is wearing pants today, you notice for the first time, and she unzips them to pull something out. 

Unlike the one from last time, which was purple, this one is skin colored and has two round things on the bottom. She squeezes the globes under the toy and a dribble of white liquid comes out from the tip. 

“What is that?” You ask in awe. You wonder what it would taste like. 

She swipes at the bead of moisture and holds it up so you can get a better look. “This is a different type of tool, one that can hold cum.” She says the new word slowly so you can remember it. “This is what’s going to go inside your little pussy, this is what’s going to fill you up with the new child of Christ.” 

For some reason, the thought of having the cum inside you makes you grow even hotter. “Okay,” you say earnestly. She chuckles at how ready you are. 

“Not quite yet, angel. Remember how we had to work up to it last time? We will need to do the same. But don’t fret. I’ll make it just as enjoyable.” 

She takes the rosary off the altar next to you and waits for you to hold out your arms. Instead of wrapping them around your hands the right way, she twists them around your wrists so you can’t move. A flare involuntarily courses through you at the thought of being bound. 

“Now, be a good girl, and complete your rosary. For each mystery, you’ll get a reward,” she says with a wink, and pulls you closer to the edge of the altar. You watch what she’s doing with bated breath and she bends down so her face is just a breath away from your pussy. 

She pushes up your skirt and slides your underwear to the side, and when her finger slides through your folds, you make the sign of the cross. 

“I believe in God, the Father Almighty,” you begin with the Apostles’ creed. When you get to the Our Father, the memory of you saying this while her fingers were warming you up last time hits you like a train. She finds your clit easily and rubs it, your voice jumping up an octave. 

You make it through that prayer and the three Hail Mary’s with little trouble while she continues just stroking up and down your pussy, feeling it get wetter under her fingertips. 

The Glory Be and the Fatima prayer also come out smoothly as Father Agatha is only teasing. 

You announce the first mystery, Annunciation, and you’re saying the Our Father again when she suddenly slides a finger into you, grinning at the way you gasp and tighten around it. 

She pumps it in and out lazily while you stutter through the rest of the prayer and then she pulls out. You feel empty and she tugs you off the altar and spins you around so that your ribs are pressing into it and your elbows rest on top, hands still tied tightly together by the chain.

This time, she tugs your skirt and underwear off and the cool church air makes you shiver. She grabs your buttcheeks and you gasp. 

“Did your parents spank you when you were a child?” She asks and for some reason, you feel yourself get even wetter at the promise her words hold. 

You nod. “Yes,” you whisper. 

“Do not withhold discipline from a child; if you strike him with a rod, he will not die. If you strike him with a rod, you will save his soul from Sheol,” she quotes. “We need to make sure your body is completely cleansed. You have ten Hail Mary’s, so for each one, I’ll give you a spank.” 

Your breath comes out in stutters and you feel like you’re about to pass out from overheating. The ache inside you is only getting worse. 

“Hail Mary, full of grace, the lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death, Amen.” 

She slaps you before you even have the time to brace yourself. 

The sound echoes throughout the empty church and you clasp your hands so hard that your knuckles turn white. 

“Hail Mary, full of grace,” you say again, eyes rolling to look up at the ceiling like you’re talking straight to God. 

Another spank. This time, your body rocks forward against the altar and it knocks the wind out of your lungs. 

“Hail Mary…” 

Spank. 

“Hail Mary…” 

Spank. 

“Hail Mary…”

Spank. 

“Hail Mary…” 

Spank. 

“Hail Mary…” 

Spank.

You still have three more to go and you’re a mess. 

The wetness between your legs has grown to a flood and is dripping down your legs. Your butt stings and the cold air works to soothe it, but every time you get a semblance of a relief, she hits you again. 

“Hail…Mary…” You take your time on the eighth, dragging it out over a minute to give yourself some time to breathe and recover. She chuckles evilly, rubbing your butt. 

Spank. 

On the ninth time, it doesn’t even feel like you’re saying real words anymore and you can barely register the pain anymore. 

Spank. 

When you finally choke out the tenth one, she hits both of your cheeks as hard as she can at the same time and you groan loudly. 

“Father Agatha,” you whimper and she soothes the aches with her palms. 

“You did so well, angel, so perfect for me. I promise that you are completely purified now and ready for pleasure. But before we get to that, let’s say the Glory Be and the Fatima prayer together.” 

She turns you around so you lock eyes with the priest and chant the two prayers and then you announce the second mystery, the Visitation, and start the Our Father. Father Agatha watches with a fond smile on your face and as you’re still speaking, she nudges your feet apart so your stance is wider. 

When you begin the ten Hail Mary’s again, she reaches down and slides two fingers inside you with no resistance at all because of how wet you are. 

You momentarily stop talking and the priest moans. 

“You’re so wet and warm around me, angel,” she mumbles quietly and you wish your hands weren’t tied together so you could reach out and touch her. 

You resume the prayer and she picks up her pace, twisting and curling, and your recitation is broken up with small gasps and whimpers. Instinctually, you raise your leg up and rest it around her and she chuckles. 

It was clearly the right thing to do because her fingers can somehow get deeper inside you and your head falls back. You’re clenching tighter and you’re getting close as you keep spitting out the words, having been on the edge for awhile since her spanking. 

“Ah ah,” she tuts, slowing down for a second. “You have four more. No orgasm until then.” You whine, pleading with your eyes, but she just smirks and raises a brow, waiting for you to continue. 

You say the words so fast it sounds like you’re auctioning off your soul to the highest bidder. 

And Father Agatha, of course, has won. 

She finally strokes your clit when you finish the tenth and you spasm all over her two fingers, hands pulling so tightly against the rosary that you think you might have indents tomorrow. 

She gently moves her fingers in and out while you finish up the second mystery with the Glory Be and the Fatima Prayer. 

When you’re announcing the third mystery, the Birth of Our Lord, she sinks down to her knees in front of you and you forget to speak. 

You shake your head, trying to figure out what she’s doing, when she lifts a leg up over her shoulder and leans close to your pussy to blow on it. 

Your hips jump and you almost fall, and she helps you rest your back against the altar for balance. 

“What are you doing?” You say in a hushed voice. 

“Say the prayers,” she orders and sucks gentle kisses into your inner thighs. Her mouth on that extremely sensitive place makes you keen as you start to say the Our Father again. But when you begin on the Hail Mary’s, her tongue slides through your folds and it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. 

A loud moan claws its way out of your throat and you manage to loosen the rosary around your wrists just enough so you can entangle your hands in her hair. You had no idea that someone could put their mouth on that part of you, but you want Father Agatha to stay there forever. 

She stops and nips at your thigh as a warning to keep going. It is so hard to keep your mind from completely blanking on the words with her hot tongue swirling your clit the way it is, but you somehow manage to make it through four quickly. 

You buck your hips without any sort of rhythm against her face, gasping out the words to the prayer. Her tongue dips into your pussy and strokes against your walls and you think you might die and ascend before God can put his baby in you. 

Like the last time, it’s clear that she won’t let you orgasm unless you finish the mystery, so you speed through again, pretty sure you miss chunks of the prayer at a time. 

Finally, you get to the tenth one, and when you’re almost done, she slides three fingers into you, curls them, and sucks on your clit roughly. 

You orgasm, absolutely drenching her face and fingers again. 

She moves your leg down and stands up, smearing her fingers across your face. 

“How was that?” She asks, smirking. 

“Oh my gosh, I didn’t even know something could feel that good,” you gush. 

And then she grabs the toy and drags it through your folds and you second guess that when she circles your clit with the tip. She presses down lightly and the pressure makes you squirm. 

“Are you ready for me to fill you up?” 

Your heart leaps, but really, you’d do anything to have her inside you again. Two orgasms hasn’t been enough to satiate you and you want to know what it’s like for her cum to be inside you. 

“Please, Father, fill me up.” The words sound dirty falling from your mouth but she just grins and flips you back around, putting you back into the same position as earlier. 

“Fourth mystery,” she demands and your head falls forward onto your chained arms as she pushes the tip in. Even though you are wet and stretched out, there’s still a slight burn. 

The Presentation. You announce it and say the Our Father while she ruts in and out of you, never going in further than the tip. 

You start on the Hail Mary’s and it takes her the entire first one to slide the entire way in. Your voice sounds strangled as you keep talking and she slowly starts to grind into you. 

When you get to the third one, she stops being gentle and begins roughly thrusting, your rips slamming against the altar again and again. She reaches a hand around to rub at your clit and you clench tightly on the toy. 

Father Agatha starts saying things while you keep reciting your prayers and she’s just loud enough to hear over your words. 

“Angel, you’re so perfect, stretched around my cock like this, can’t wait to fill you up, to breed you, watch my cum drip out of you, God you’re taking me so well, need to do this every day, can’t wait to breed you.” 

You don’t really know what she means when she says she wants to breed you, but just based on the way she sounds when she says it, like it’s making her feel as hot as you do, makes you even more wet. 

At this point, you don’t even know if you’re saying the right prayer but things just keep spilling out of your mouth and you go with it. You don’t know how many you’ve said or how many you have left, all you can think about is Father Agatha. 

“You’re so close, angel, just one more and then I’ll make you into the next Virgin Mary with my cum,” she grunts into your ear and you gasp out the words. 

“Amen,” you finally pant out, and you can feel her hand brush past you as she reaches down between her own legs, and the next thing you know, a warmth spreads through you. It triggers your own orgasm, feeling your walls being painted with her cum, and she gently thrusts in and out while you seize around her. “Did it work?” You ask weakly. 

Father Agatha strokes your hair as she says the Glory Be and the Fatima prayer herself. You realize that you forgot to say those after your second orgasm, but you can’t find it in you to care. Since you’re carrying God’s child, you don’t think He will either. 

“I’m going to stay inside you like this to keep the cum in while you say the fifth mystery. It’s called cockwarming. This way, we can try to let it take hold.” 

You nod and begin on the Finding in the Temple. Since she isn’t moving, you aren’t constantly distracted and you’re able to get through the Hail Mary’s without too much of a hassle, although the feeling of being full still is forefront on your mind. 

When you finish the rosary, she pulls out, turns you to face her, and you gasp at the feeling of her cum oozing out of you. 

“But, it was supposed to stay inside me!” You cry, watching in horror as it leaks out and down your legs. 

Father Agatha frowns and collects it with her fingers. “Something must have gone wrong,” she says and then looks up to meet your eyes. “Guess we’ll just have to try again.” 

[stvrnioloslvt]

the estes method - Matt Sturniolo

bf!matt × gf!reader

PART TWO HERE

disclaimer: the following content might not be suitable for everyone. please, read the triggers list before reading this story. also, english is not my first language, but i hope you enjoy it nevertheless!

triggers: ghosts, shadow figures, the estes method, kinda scary? (not a lot though, i'm the first scaredy cat out there)

inspired by the trailer of this week's episode of hell week. and yes, sam and colby make an appearance in the story. enjoy!

「 ★ ★ ★ 」

i knew it was a bad idea. i mean, as much as i loved haunted places and acting like a ghosthunter, i knew it had complications that i was not prepared for.

but when the triplets were invited by sam and colby for their new episode of hell week they had no problem in tagging me along. and, frankly speaking, i was excited. the last time i filmed with them nothing much had happened, so i was curious to discover what would happen this time. however, nothing could have prepared me for what awaited ahead of me.

1:30 a.m.

"guys, can i do the estes method?"

"you really love that method, don't you?" the cam that sam was holding went straight to my face, startling me. i chuckled as colby gave me the ok to perform it.

"by the way, am i the only one that has been seeing things since i stepped foot in this place?"

five heads turned towards me, eyes wide open.

"what did you just say?" asked nick, turning pale.

"like, shadows that aren't ours moving on the walls, figures running from one room to another...is it only me?" at that point i felt like i was going crazy: the boys didn't have that much of a different reaction, and the camera was still in my face.

"so basically what you're saying is that you have been seeing things for over an hour and you haven't said anything?" sam and colby exchanged knowing stares, probably making a mental annotation to check the footage to see if they caught anything.

"i mean, even when i saw those shadow figures right in front of you, you didn't say anything, so i thought that i was hallucinating. but like...now it's worse" i ended the sentence with a whisper, as the camera panned to the triplets' faces.

"are they touching you? talking?" at this point chris just went back and forth, watching out in case he missed something.

"no, nothing, just circling us...or me. i'm not sure. hey, do you think it might be because i drew like tons of protective sigils on me?"

"YOU WHAT?" screamed sam and colby. i stumbled back, not expecting such a strong reaction.

"yeah, i figured that it could have been dangerous to come here without some sort of protection. i drew them on the triplets too, one per each, but no one is seeing what i am seeing. do you think that they're messing with me because they cannot touch me or whatsoever?"

"could be. messing with your mind instead of directly attacking you on a physical level is definitely an option. just...let us know if something happens, ok?"

i nodded. and, as we moved through the building, i prayed to whatever existed above us to keep us safe.

i turned towards matt, who was looking at me with a worried gaze.

"baby, are you sure you are ok? we can step outside if you need to"

i smiled and tiptoed to kiss him on the cheek. our hands brushed together as matt grabbed it to keep me close to him.

"eww disgusting"

"fuck off, nick"

"you too, bitch"

2:17 a.m.

"ok guys, now that the triplets have done the estes method it is y/n's turn" as colby spoke to the camera, matt put the blindfold on my eyes. he bent down to whisper in my ear a shy "i love you", then he put the headphones around my neck.

"y/n, are you ready?"

there was something heavy in the air. something wrong, something scary. i could feel the ways the boys were tensing up, anticipating something, anything. i felt my heart beating faster, my hands cold and sweaty as i saw pitch black in front of me.

with a raspy voice i replied to sam "yeah, i'm ready."

and so it begun.

the estes method

"chris is sitting next to you. if anything happens, tap on his leg"

i took a big breath in as the headphones fell snugly on my ears.

immediately i was hit with a multitude of noises: radio interferences, tv static noise, every once in a while i caught on the voice of a woman. she sounded like she was hurting.

"one"

the thing i hated the most about this method was that from the moment in which the headphones started blasting sounds it was as if you were alone in a parallel world. no matter how hard i squinted my eyes, or how much i tried to block out those noises, i just couldn't see or hear the people that were all around me.

"no"

"pain"

"hurt"

that voice, that woman...she was scared for her life. every time she spoke i could hear her whimper, almost crying.

"guys i think it is a woman speaking and she sounds like she is in pain. i don't know if it is related to what you've been asking but i thought you would want to know it"

the noise in my ears started getting stronger, higher. i put my head in my hands that were resting on my knees, then gripped the headphones so i could hear the woman better. there was something sinister about the new noise, it seemed like it was trying to cancel out the spirit in pain.

the best way i could describe it is as if a war had started and none of the two opponents could prevail on the other. i felt my head aching in an attempt to just focus on something, anything. but as soon as i tried to do so, the noises would get even stronger, leaving me panting as if i just ran a marathon. i felt someone's hand grab my thigh and shake it hard enough for me to feel it. somebody else tried to take the headphones out of my grip, but i held them in place.

finally, i managed to hear something.

"help!" screamed the woman.

and as soon as that word left my mouth, all the noise stopped, except for the tv static noise. my breath slowed down, and i loosened up the grip on the headphones. just as i was about to ask the boys if they unplugged the device, a growling, low voice screamed in my ears "go away!"

i screamed, terrified, as i ripped the headphones away from my ears and fell on the ground in front of me. i remember calling out matt's name, and he rushed to take me in his embrace as i cried terrified of what just happened.

chaos ensured: the boys scrumbled all around me to understand what i heard, but as soon as they did that colby called out a figure standing on the doorway.

"let's go outside, we can't stay here anymore!" someone screamed, and just like that matt picked me up bridal style and ran out with the others.

"nick, open the fucking car door so i can place her inside"

"on it"

the car

"baby, are you okay?"

"fuck, she's terrified. y/n. y/n! nod if you can hear us"

i nodded. just lightly, but enough for them to notice.

"baby, can you tell us what happened? what did you hear?"

i pulled matt inside the car so he could hold me while i tried to explain in the best way possible everything without being hindered by the fear that was running through my veins.

"that's crazy. guys, i've never seen anything like that before" said colby.

"for sure. it seemed like she was in a trance. y/n, did you feel us try to take those headphones off of you ears? you had a death grip on them, seriously"

"yeah, i felt it" i whispered, still shaking in matt's embrace. the poor boy could do nothing but hold me and caress my hair in hopes that it might help me to cool down.

"there was like...noise. a lot. at first i heard the woman speaking, then something else came up and started to try cancel out the woman. the last thing she said was help, and then..."

"and then what, baby?"

"and then there was silence. no noise at all, but i still couldn't hear you guys. i was going to ask if you had unplugged the headphones but..."

was i shaking again?

chills ran down my spine at the memory of that awful, awful voice.

"c'mon baby you can do it. say it"

"all of a sudden something growled in my ear. i don't even know how to explain it, it seemed like it didn't come from the headphones. he growled go away but i heard it so fucking clearly and strong that it felt like a scream right in my ears. i'm so sorry, i didn't want to scare you, i swear"

a heavy silence doomed upon us as the boys exchanged worried looks. matt held me tighter, in an attempt to protect me from my own memories.

"we believe you, y/n, we're just shocked that this happened...have we ever lived something like this before, sam?"

"no, never. i had chills, that was fucking terrifying"

"guys i think we should wrap it up here and go home"

"yeah. matt, do you want me to drive you guys home? so you can stay in the back with y/n"

"yes, please. let's go, i really don't want to spend another second in this place."

「 ★ ★ ★ 」

would you guys like a part 2? just pure fluff, matt taking care of y/n. let me know in the comments <3

all pictures were taken from pinterest. credits to the owners!

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃/𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊. 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓

[mncxbe]

𝐟𝐰𝐛 𝐓𝐞𝐜𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐮, 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: tysm for your sweet message nonnie♡ you're really sweet and yes i'm doing well. i made some hc for them separate and together (for silly) and also added some sfw stuff. enjoy!

𝒄𝒘: lowkey mean jouno (he calls you little slut), choking, mentions of breath play and other kinks, pussy slapping, orgasm denial, creampie, power dynamics if you squint

ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑ ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑ ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑

𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐨

assuming you're part of the hunting dogs, the first time you two hook up is after a stressful mission. you just needed to blow off some steam but had a surprisingly good time so you agreed to be friends with benefits from then on

he prefers to meet at his place cuz he feels more in control that way. plus I see him using handcuffs and toys so it's easier that way

Jouno is a dom. unless he's too tired after a mission he won't sub. he gets off to mentally overpowering and degrading you. also be prepared for some intense sessions

ofc he can be sweet and gentle if you ask him to but he generally prefers rougher sex. that way it doesn't feel like you two make love (what's that emotional intimacy? nuh uh)

he does like to experiment with different kinks. he's super into breath play and blindfolding you. also orgasm denial. makes you call him sir

honorable mentions: he actually respects your boundaries and the aftercare is surprisingly nice. outside of the bedroom he's very professional and respectful but if you tease or upset him he's gonna get back to you

overall experiemce: 8/10 cuz he sometimes takes it too far and he's a bit mean

You were about to leave the break room when Jouno barged in, slamming the door shut.

"Oh hi Jouno everything alri–"

Before you could finish your sentence his gloved hand was wrapped around your throat. "You little brat. You've got some nerve don't ya?" He pulled your face impossibly closer to his as he jammed his thigh between your legs, pressing your back against the table behind you. "Think you're so smart mouthing off during the meeting, asking Fukuchi for more teambuildings because me and Tecchou can't get along?"

You tried to pry his hand off your neck but he only tightened his grip, making your vision blur "Jouno p-please I didn't mean it like that" you babbled out, earning a chuckle from the man. "Oh I know how you meant it. You're just chasing that praise aren't ya, you little slut. You think I can't tell how giddy you get when someone tells you you've got a good idea or you did a good job?"

Jouno's leg pressed against your core and you instinctively shifted your hips, seeking some sort of friction. Despite the situation you were in you couldn't help but feel worked up and Jouno could tell, his own bulge forming in his pants. His hand moved from your neck to your jaw, squeezing it harshly "Since you're so concerned about the well being of our team, how about you tell the others how well we get along? How you moan my name every night and fuck yourself stupid on my cock?"

"'m sorry Jouno" you whispered, heat rising to your cheeks. "Oh I know you are, pretty. So how about you show it, hm?" The man grabbed your hips, hoisting you up on the table before pulling down your uniform pants and discarding them on the floor. "Let me eat you out"

"But Jouno we're at work..." you fumbled, squeezing your thighs together but he quickly pried them open, positioning himself between your legs. You would've lied if you said that seeing him on his knees in front of you– for you, didn't make your core tighten.

"And?" he retorted, brushing his fingers over the damp spot on your panties "That doesn't seem to stop you from soaking your underwear. Does it turn you on, knowing that anyone could walk in on us? Or are you just that desperate for me?"

You became even more embarrased after hearing his words and looked away, biting down on your lip. Jouno pulled your underwear to the side, running his fingertips along your slit– he could smell your arousal and it was making his head spin as he rubbed little circles on your needy clit before slapping it harshly. "I expect you to answer when I ask you a question, brat"

The sudden contact made your body jolt and you immediately nodded "Yes, Jouno– I mean sir. Yes sir I really need you right now. Need you to touch me"

"Do you?" he taunted, taking off his glove and pushing a finger inside your cunt, curling it perfectly against your sweet spot. "Yes I– oh God" you mewled as he lightly sucked on your clit. You took off his cap and carefully placed it next to you before one of your hand found its way into his hair, pulling him closer to your needy cunt.

Jouno ate you out like a starved man, his lips latched on your clit and his slender fingers curled oh so nicely inside you, hitting your sweet spot and making whines and moans spill from your lips. It didn't take long for you to reach your high, feeling a familiar knot tightening in your abdomen but before you could cum Jouno got up to his feet and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Sai..." you whined, pouting at the man but he only chuckled "Serves you right. Maybe next time you won't forget your place."

He reached for his hat, placing it back on his head. "Don't worry, sweets, I'll take good care of you tonight if you behave." Jouno gave your thigh a light pat before walking out of the room, leaving you aching for more. God, he was such an ass sometimes...

𝐓𝐞𝐜𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐮

he's a bit reluctant at first cuz he doesn't really get the point of it– Tecchou doesn't have the highest sex drive, but he's really flattered that you find him attractive enough to ask him to be fwb

he's really sweet and gentle with you, takes his time to learn what you like. praises you a lot too and overall focuses on your pleasure above all

the sex itself is pretty vanilla so don't expect him to be rough like Jouno but if you want to experiment he's open

Tecchou is a true switch. he's fine with anything as long as you feel good– you wanna top him? sure. you want him to fold you in half and manhandle you? that works perfectly fine too

aftercare is mostly him talking to you about stuff in his life and although he shouldn't, he lets you spend the night if you're too tired to go home or it's too late

that's why he actually gets attached after a while and starts developing feelings for you. but he does a good job at keeping them hidden because he doesn't wanna ruin your arrangement or make you feel uncomfortable (until he inevitably confesses them in the heat of the moment)

overall 10/10 experience

You've been friends with benefits with Tecchou for a couple of months now and things couldn't have been better. He treated you better than any of your exes have and actually knew what he was doing in bed. As for now, Tecchou had you laying on your back with the top of your thighs pressed against your chest, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot with each deep thrust.

" 'chou–" you whined, pretty nails digging into his wrists as you tried to ground yourself "too much 's too much". The man only grunted in response, his eyes squeezing shut as he kept rolling his hips against yours. "Relax, angel, just relax ah– you're s-so tight like this"

Tecchou was on cloud nine, completely lost in the feeling of your walls clenching down around him, pushing him to another orgasm. He'd already came once, his cum pooling in a creamy ring at the base of his cock, but he just couldn't stop now– not until he had you writhing underneath him.

Ever since the two of you started hooking up, pleasing you has become his top priority. You were just too precious, so sweet and kind to him, so patient when he told you that he doesn't really have that much experience when it comes to sex. Work took up most of his time so he never had the chance to have a proper relationship, let alone be intimate with someone else. But still you taught him everything he needed to know about pleasing a woman. It didn't take him too long to realize he'd fallen for you but he never said anything to you about it– too afraid to ruin what the two of you had. So he simply cherished these moments when he has you all to himself, moaning his name and clinging to him as is he were the last thing that kept you together.

"Hiro– Hiro baby ah fuck– there right there" you babbled out, your back arching off of the mattres to offer him a better angle. Your shaky fingers moved to your clit, rubbing slow circles on the sensitive bud as your eyes fluttered shut. God, you were so beautiful like this.

Tecchou's strong arms almost gave out when he felt your cunt squeezing down on him and he grabbed your legs, pulling the backs of your thighs flush against his abdomen. His face was basically buried between your calves as he started moving again, making you gasp. It was overwhelming in the best way possible– you could feel every ridge of his cock as he dragged it in and out of your gummy walls and it was driving you over the edge. "Oh God oh God i'm close s-so so close" you mumbled, pressing your tits together as you locked gazes with the man in front of you.

Maddening. It was utterly maddening. Tecchou swore he could spend the rest of his life fucking you like this and he wouldn't have any regrets. His eyes moved to your tits– so prettily bouncing with each of his thrusts despite your best efforts to keep them still and your face. Oh your face; blissed out with your plushy lips quivering as he pushed you closer to your high. With his own orgasm threatening to wash over him, Tecchou tightened his grip on your legs, hugging them closer to his body as he nuzzled his face between your calves, peppering them with kisses "You're so, so beautiful angel ah s-shit I could look at you all day long. M-my pretty girl love you, love you so much ah fuck—"

His sudden confession made the tight knot in your belly snap and you gushed around him, coating his length and abdomen in your slick. " 'chou please 'm all yours. want you to fill me up" you mewled and Tecchou's vision went white. That was all it took for him to cum again. A loud, broken groan spilling from his lips as his hips halted, his cum pooling inside you. When he eventually pulled out with a wet pop his cum seeped out of your hole, dribbling down onto the damp mattress.

You were both breathless, staring blankly at one another. "So um..." you said eventually, cutting through the awkward silence "You like me, now?"

"Yea, I guess I do." confessed the man, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "Do you mind it?"

"Why would I mind it, Tecchou?" you giggled, motioning him to lay next to you and he obliged. Wrapping your arms around him, you cuddled yourself close to his chest, breathing in his musky scent. "I mean, I kinda like you too. You're really sweet."

Tecchou smiled, his pretty amber eyes lighting up. He quickly pressed a kiss to your forehead before resting his chin on top of your head "I'm glad then. Maybe we can talk about it when we wake up?"

"Mhm, sure" you sighed contently before drifting off to sleep, leaving Tecchou with a pounding heart and that dumb, lovesick smile on his face.

𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐨 𝐱 𝐓𝐞𝐜𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐮

Jouno makes a very detailed schedule because god forbid you spend more time with Tecchou

it's a competition, really– who makes you cum more times and they always discuss it at work. Jouno's a bit petty

"So, Tecchou. How did it go with y/n last night?"

"Pretty well actually."

"Oh yea? Well I made her squirt two times the night before so I bet you didn't do that well"

if Jouno ever gets jealous of Tecchou prepare for some hate sex♡ and for him to leave hickeys all over your tits and thighs so Tecchou knows who you actually belong to (yea, he gets a bit posessive)

Tecchou is very normal about it

if you ask them nicely enough they may agree to a threesome. but oh boy prepare for a sleepless night (+100% sure they kiss too)

it'd basically go like this

yes I did shamelessly reference a previous post because I have exams tomorrow and sadly couldn't write more

[pumpkin-cake]

hi this request isn’t for S4 i hope that’s ok!

but takes place in s2 where five strands everyone?

his spouse gets stranded a year and a bit before he gets there

and they made a career for themselves as a singer? maybe they have some sort of siren power or they are just naturally talented !?

but he finds them on a billboard or something that says where they will be performing next and they have a reunion where the reader has a love hate reaction to seeing him?!

sorry if this is a lot!!!

totally okay! i like all the other seasons better than 4 anyway lmao- this is actually an idea i have for my upcoming reboot of a five story i'd written, so i'm excited to sort of test it out! this turned out a bit more fem reader coded, but no she/her pronouns are used last i checked.

also my swiftie is coming out for this story, sorry to all you non-swifties ;-;

divider credited to @cafekitsune (lmk if you'd like me to remove it or anything of the sort!)

warnings: taylor swift (i love her actually but some people don't so)

The last thing you remembered was holding hands tightly with Five, and then he was ripped from your grasp, and you were falling ass first into an alleyway. Where did he go? Where were the others?

"Five..?!" You cried, hurrying out of the alleyway and bumping into somebody, who glared at you and walked off. You looked around and spotted a newspaper box, and you were over there before you could think. Your eyes scanned the paper. Year, year, what year was it?!

1960.

The sixties?! What the fuck?! All you could do was drop the newspaper to the floor, collapsing against the building wall beside you. You were the only one there. Some of your found-family wasn't even here yet, you'd imagine. There had to be some kind of time frame. You felt bad for whoever was put the farthest. Were you put the furthest in the past? What if you were super old by the time you found everyone again?! Well, you are already old, but what if you looked like it?!

All you could do was wait. You knew Five, he'd stop at nothing to save you and his family.

Unfortunately, there wasn't exactly anywhere to go. You looked pretty young and had no identification. You were wearing strange clothes, you didn't fit in. This felt like the apocalypse in a way, loads better obviously, but being alone? The worst feeling.

You had to stealth around, stealing and pilfering where you could. Sitting in alleys in the rain, starving. That was until you were dumpster diving behind some sort of bar. The heavy door creaked open and you froze inside the green box.

"Them damn raccoons again." A heavy southern accent was muffled to you, but you could tell it was a woman. You heard heels clicking on the ground and the dumpster opened and a broom whacked you in the head.

"Ouch!!!"

"Oh my heavens, yer a person!!!" The woman exclaimed, dropping the broom with a clatter. She reached over and helped you out of the trash, her nose crinkling. The woman was wearing a scantily clad flapper dress, a cute headpiece adorning her blonde hair. "What're ya doin' inside the trash, sweetie?" She asked with worry, brushing some garbage off you like it was nothing.

"Uh...I'm so sorry, I can go." You apologized, ready to get out before she called the cops like everyone else.

"Oh no, baby, no. Here, you come in, we'll getcha somethin' to eat." She assured you, ushering you inside. Some other women (and some men) that were dressed similarly didn't seem to mind. "Most of us here, came from poor too, we'll take ya in." She smiled, taking you to the back and providing you with a meal.

"Thank you...." You said, completely shocked at her kindess.

"Oh! Right, my name's Jess, nice to meetcha." She cooed politely, and you gave her your name through bites of food, making her giggle. "Tell me, sweetie, can ya sing? Dance? Anything of the sort?"

You paused. A golden opportunity was just presented to you. 1960. Some of your favorite artists haven't even been born yet. Not to mention your power dealt with your voice, similar to Allison's. You were frequently named The Siren in Umbrella Academy material. And, you didn't have any stigma to using it like Allison did.

"I write songs." You blurted, and a wide smile came across her face.

"Do ya?! Oh, you'll have to show Bruce then. He's the owner of the place." She hummed, and soon you were cleaned up and sitting in a private room on a nice sofa with a guitar in front of a sleazy looking man who looked like he'd run some kind of club with sexy women around to exploit.

"Alright, sweetheart. Show me whatcha got." He said, a fat cigar between his greasy looking fingers.

You took a deep breath. "Um...so...this song is called...." Shit, you had to think. You didn't have much time to come up with the song to sing. You had to pick a song that was popular in the modern era, maybe it would be good here too? But maybe you should stick to country. You were in Dallas, Texas after all. Not to mention you'd need to change some words if needed.

"C'mon, don't have all day." Bruce took a puff of his cigar, blowing the smoke into your face.

"Um. It's called...Mean." You blurted, and began to strum the guitar. Taylor Swift had been a hit as a country singer, this was a good idea in your mind. You were careful to control your power, and also make it believable. A southern accent and changing the word 'football' into 'baseball'.

As you sang, Bruce stopped focusing on his cigar and was completely focused on you and the shitty guitar you managed to make sound so good.

You finished the song and had a job immediately, with a small lie that you were 18. No liquor, but you could have beer! Thus began your career in that small club, becoming friends with the women who worked there. Soon enough you had the money for a small apartment. You despised the creepy looks men at the club gave you. All you could think of to continue was Five. He'd find you, right? Surely!

But after years? It was tiring. Dancing in sexy outfits in front of men with cigars, smoke and alcohol filling the air. The harsh lights on you while you had to make acoustic country covers of Taylor Swift songs. The more sexual songs like 'Dress' and 'Don't Blame Me' were your least favorite. You'd just have to withstand it. For days. And days. And days. And weeks. And years.

Five crashed into Dallas after witnessing the second apocalypse, with his hand empty. He forgot which sibling he'd been holding onto, but he knew he had you in his other hand.

"Shit, shit, shit!" He had hissed to himself, looking around and calling your name desperately. He'd never admit how panicked he currently was, and composed himself immediately upon the meeting of Elliott, some weird nerd.

"Alright, before I do anything." Five walked up to the man, looking up at him with fierceness. "Do you know anything at all about someone by the name of (Y/n) (L/n)." It was more a demand than a question. "If I find out you've been lying, I'll kill you." He threatened.

Elliott cracked immediately, telling Five he'd seen a billboard of that name recently. He didn't listen to music much, but their name was everywhere. Five was instantly gone, and was amazed to see your face on a huge billboard. You? A star? Not that you weren't talented, you absolutely were! You just weren't that kind of person. He asked around and found the club, teleporting in without an issue.

Ordering a drink, he sat as close to the stage as possible. A sleazy man you would absolutely despise walked out with a grin, golden teeth shining under the light as he began to speak. About you. Five clenched the glass of whiskey in his hand. This asshole looked so smug. Like you were his property.

Then you walked out with a shining silver guitar. He felt his breath leave him. "My God..." he hissed under his breath. You were gorgeous. He wasn't a fan of the makeup on your face, red lips and such. But you were glowing, looking so confident in yourself. You started singing 'You Belong With Me' by Taylor Swift, and he understood the situation quick. The folks around were immediately entranced, and it made him sick. You were using your power to reel them in, keep you popular and making money.

Your eyes met his and you faltered for just a moment, but no one else noticed as you kept singing. After the song was over, you gave him a look and walked backstage. Within seconds he was back there, so relieved to finally see you again.

"A singer, huh?" He said with a lopsided smile nobody else in his family got to see. "Not what I expected."

Your face dropped a tad, tears filling your eyes. "That's all you have to say to me?" You asked, and Five panicked. He hurried over and very gently held your face.

"No no, sweetheart, I'm sorry if that came off wrong. I'm so glad to see you." He quickly said, letting you fall into him for an embrace. "How long was I gone for?"

"Three years." You murmured, and he sighed.

"I'm sorry, I'm here now. You looked really good up there." He said softly. He decided to not tell you about the upcoming apocalypse. At least, not yet. When everyone was together.

"Thanks." You said with a weak smile, not at all letting go. Last time you let go, you were without him for 3 years. You didn't ever want to let go again.

fuck im sorry that ending was so rushed, but if it wasn't i wouldn't have had this out

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

could you do a drabble on bratty sub!jonathan crane? literally on my knees begging you to!!

ALL YOURS ───

jonathan crane ✧

ೃ⁀➷ “…I wanted it to leave a mark: that’s how I knew I loved you. Because I wanted to be burned, stamped…” — ’Marathon’, Louise Glück.

pairing. sub!jonathan crane x reader

summary. jonathan’s been a brat all night. looks like you’ve got some taming to do…

warnings. swearing, p in v, unprotected sex, sextoys/use of dildo (m), oral sex (m), edgeplay, blindfold kink, brat-taming, degradation/insults, SMUT UNDER THE CUT! 

word count. 3.3k

a/n. anon this idea is genius i love it!!! also this was js supposed to be a blurb & now it’s got 3.3k words😭i apologize LMAO

Entering your shared condo, you pushed Jonathan down to his knees, smack-dab on the wood in the middle of your living room. “What the fuck was that?” you questioned, yanking him by his silk tie to look up at you.

“What was what?” he retorted, pretending to be clueless despite the impish grin that snuck its way onto his plush lips. 

You slapped him, lacy black gloves scratching at his thin skin. “I’ve had enough of your bratty fucking behaviour tonight.”

“Then do something about it,” he challenged, piercing his baby blues into you through batted, thick lashes. 

“Oh,” you hummed, roughly undoing the silk tie from his neck, tugging his thin glasses off and wrapping the fabric around his eyeline, “I have every intention of doing so.”

Just an hour ago, you and Jonathan had been attending a GothamU charity gala. It was a nice night— save for the fact he spent all of it pushing your buttons, speaking over you, and brushing off your existence to the guests there. “My date?” he’d purr to them, “she’s just my teaching assistant.” 

You’d send him your tell-tale warning glares, and he’d stare blankly back at you, respond in his pettiest tone, and continue reducing you to his measly teaching assistant — which, publicly, was who you were to him, but behind closed doors, it was him, pleading on his knees to touch you, to at least catch a whiff of your addicting scent. The man would probably thank-you if you stepped on him and you adored every bit of it.

He was acting out. Some sort of naughty pseudo-revenge on you, making you seem so much smaller than everyone else; making people think he was the big bad wolf and you were his little lamb. 

Boy, would they be utterly fucking wrong. 

You pulled Jonathan up by the lapel, then shirked numerous clothing articles from his three-piece suit, leaving him in his dress pants. You did the same — not that he could tell — peeling off your lacy gala gloves and throwing them onto your wood credenza, sliding your panties off and decorating your couch with them carelessly. When your hands brushed past the fabric of his crotch, you heard his breath hitch, unable to tell what you were going to do to him with the makeshift blindfold on. 

Honestly, with the attitude he had that night? You intended to torture him ‘till there were heavy tears streaming down his face, the only words on his tongue being ones begging for release. 

You sunk to your knees, unzipping his thin pants and licking a stripe up his cock — still within his boxers, of course. You heard Jonathan choke, and, looking up at him, you could see him clench his jaw, lips bitten, hands trembling. 

But, y’know, the torture bit and all that. So you pressed your wet mouth to his clothed cock, hot tongue dragging across his length; everywhere he needed it most, but with him still shuddering pitifully beneath his boxers. The contact felt good, fuck, your tongue always made him feel good, but he needed more. 

You heard Jonathan moan; a whiny, drawn out barely-intelligible plea, because your mouth had soaked the fabric, making it stick to his needy cock. “Fuck, please,” he pleaded, hands fumbling around your shoulders before finding the crown of your head. You wrapped your mouth along his clothed erection, humming in delight at his begging, until: “just fucking suck me off already, please.”

Your mouth stopped their ministrations at once, and all that was left was your hot breath on his twitching dick. “Come again?” you drawled, affronted beyond belief at his audacity.

Jonathan didn’t respond; he knew he’d taken it too far. You got back up, and squeezed his face with your hand. “I didn’t think so,” you growled at him. “Speak like that again and so help me god, I will fuck you ‘till you’re so dumb you’ll be thrown into Arkham.”

He whimpered at the threat — how humiliating it would be to be trapped in the place he was chief of — while squirming under your touch; but you still felt his hard-on roar to life even needier than before, aching near your inner thigh. 

“Fuckin’ brat,” you whispered, thumb brushing over his pink bottom lip. His mouth opened immediately, and your finger dipped onto his tongue, trailing deeper until he gagged. 

You grinned at his appearance: long gone was the respectable, genius Dr. Crane- now, he was a flushed mess, lips parted as he panted hot, needy breaths, spit leaking down his chin onto his bare chest. Fuck, did he ever look good so undone for you. 

Even his tie had slipped slightly off his eyes, and you could see him blink blearily, sweet lashes kissing his high cheekbones and leaving small, teary drops. You tugged the fabric back in place, then dipped your hand into his wet boxers, gripping his thick length tightly and pulling out.

“Why should I make you feel good? Why waste my effort, when you’ll just forget everything, like the stupid little whore you are, huh?” 

He keened, holding back his hips from bucking into your hand. “I’m sorry,” he panted raggedly, disrespectful demeanor slipping away in favor of being your little pet, “I’m sorry for tonight—“

“It’s too late to say sorry.” you scolded darkly, other hand coming up to his hair to tug it back and reveal his sensitive adam’s apple. You licked at the spot, then traveled your tongue to just under his jaw, suckling at his pulse. 

You drew out a pathetic squeak from him at the action, and you chuckled against his warm skin. “I’ll be good for you,” he promised quickly, “I - I’ll be good for the rest of my life. So… so please,”

“‘Please’ what?” 

“Please use me,” he replied shamefully, tone warbling halfway at the vulgarity of the request. 

You smirked, then began slowly pumping his long length. Your hand was so tight against him it was like a suction, and he let out several choked moans at the slow friction. Your other hand left his hair, making his head fall limply on his chest, and you fondled his balls, teasing him at first with mere grazes of your fingertips on the flesh, before squeezing them roughly.

“You gonna come?” you asked in a hum when his knees started buckling. “You gonna come just like that, just with my hand?”

“Yes, m’gonna come - gonna come,” he groaned, bucking quickly into your hand as you stroked him faster. 

“So pathetic,” you sneered suddenly, dropping his needy cock and watching it bounce on his thigh before springing up against his abdomen again, “didn’t ask for permission. Looks like you’re forgetting your fucking manners.”

At your harsh words and denial of release, Jonathan’s bottom lip trembled, small sniffling sounds coming from him, and you rolled your eyes— the needy bastard was fucking crying. 

“M’sorry,” he cried out weakly, “‘m’sorry… just felt so good…”

You watched his tears drip from under the tie down his neck, his shoulders shaking, and you sighed, sinking down to your knees. He was crying, because he fucking knew what it did to you; that his helpless whines made all the right pulses pang in both your chest and your core; that you would give in.

So, you took him in your mouth, hand stroking the bottom of his shaft while your tongue teased and touched the rest; sticky mouth wrapped moistly around him. Unbeknownst to Jonathan, however, is that while you adored his cries, the desire to have him begging was stronger. Thus, your tongue was barely doing anything, just tentatively licking him, too short for him to lose himself, too fast for him not to get overstimulated. 

You felt him try to thrust into your mouth, but your free hand gripped his bare thigh tightly. “Don’t move a muscle,” you grunted, and continued by angrily smacking the back of his thigh with your open palm. 

Jonathan whimpered helplessly, planting himself firmly in place. With that, you’d set the stage: you left his cock for a moment, quickly sauntering to your bedroom, and pulling something out from a velvet drawstring pouch you kept in your nightstand…

You heard Jonathan cry out for you, devastated like he thought you were gonna leave him teased and needy like this all night — which, you couldn’t blame him, because you had done that before — but no, you weren’t, because you wanted to ruin Jonathan tonight; put him back in his place; remind him who exactly fucking owns him. 

When you returned to the living room, he was still standing in the exact same place, but his hands were gripping his thighs with deadly strength, more lustful tears streaming down his face. 

“So obedient for me,” you murmured in amusement, getting back on your knees and slipping his weeping cock into your mouth. He gasped, pathetic delight filling his groans at your reappearance as you suckled softly on him. 

Jonathan was halfway through a “thank you” before you brought your thick dildo to the seam of his ass. The sudden touch made him flinch, hips bucking up and shoving his cock harshly into your throat. 

You choked momentarily, and he panicked: “Oh god, m’sorry, m’so sorry,” he sobbed, mind going fuzzy and blank with your skillful tongue pleasuring him, the tip of your dildo teasing his back entrance.

You laughed around his length, not saying anything and merely sucking him off faster, now pressing the wet dildo tip into his puckered hole. The thought of it entering him made your cunt pulse — you’d turned it on back in the bedroom, intent on getting it wet with your spit so you didn’t torture Jonathan too much, but instead couldn’t resist filling yourself. You’d bounced on the fat thing for a few moments, till it was completely soaked in your wetness, your back arching, cunt itching for release. 

Jonathan cried out from the sharp stretch in his hole, and you soothed him with a low hush, slowing your onslaught of pleasure on his cock so he could breathe. Once you heard a strained moan leave his lips, one that was much more desperate, much more raspy, you continued in sucking him off, wedging the rest of the dildo’s length into his tight hole. 

“If you come before I let you,” you warned when you felt Jonathan’s thighs clench, his breath catching in his throat and his moans going pitchy, “I won’t fuck you for a month.”

“A month?!” Jonathan questioned with a yelp, which dissolved into a moan when his hole clenched around the dildo’s silicone. “Fuck, hnngh, please, I can’t -- I needa come, but… a month?”

“A month. So be a good little whore, and don’t let go ‘till I tell you to.”

Jonathan whined, but his signs of release faded away, and you rubbed his hip approvingly. You pulled away for a final time, and dragged him by the arm to your couch. 

He almost tripped, legs trembling at the pleasure the dildo was sending up his body as it filled him, and it got worse from there: you slipped off his blindfold, and pushed him to sit on the cushy furniture. The dildo pushed that much deeper into his hole, brushing against his prostate and making him choke, before you climbed onto his lap and lined up his leaking head to your entrance. 

Jonathan couldn’t help the amalgamation of an overstimulated cry and loud moan that tore out of him: how could he, with the dildo’s fat cockhead flush against his prostate, your plush folds teasing his thoroughly-edged cock, and the withstanding rule not to come. 

You gazed softly into his watery blue eyes, which were red-rimmed and lined with pitiful tears. They were silently begging you to let him release, every fiber of his being wanting nothing more but to feel that familiar current run through him at last. 

His cheeks were flushed pink, lips bitten between the teeth; expression utterly wrecked, utterly desperate, utterly yours. He knew, just as well as you did, how much he fucking belonged to you: he would let you put a goddamn leash and collar around his neck if you just asked. 

Then, you pushed yourself up by the knees and hovered over his cock. You watched his face the whole time you sank down: his face screwed together when his tip peeked into your hole, his eyes rolled to the back of his skull when your took him halfway, his mouth opened and his spit-slicked tongue hung out of it when you bottomed out. 

“You’re so - tight,” he observed gingerly with a whimper. His gaze was glassy, heated mewls leaving his lips; the only thing on Jonathan’s mind was pleasure, every coherent or intelligent thought leaving him in favor of the primal need to orgasm.

You bit down your moan, your hands resting on both of Jonathan’s bare shoulders, kneading them softly. “Tight for you, baby. All tight for your good fucking cock.” you cursed huskily, and you felt Jonathan’s cock swell at your praise. 

His hands snaked up to your waist, hesitantly holding you, but when you didn’t protest nor scold him and instead lifted yourself up again to bounce down on his erect cock, Jonathan touched you feverishly, like he would never get enough of your skin on his. 

“Can - can I…” Jonathan started quietly, getting cut off by his own effeminate whine when you grinded down on him. “Can I -- ah -- touch your tits? Please?”

You smiled, finally content with his politeness (as well as the sweet sounds of his moans), “Go ahead, baby. Play with m’fucking tits.”

Jonathan smiled too, but it was so fucking happy he looked pathetic, eyes dilated like a kid on christmas just because you conceded one of his requests. His hands pulled your dress off your head, and you shuddered in the cold - as well as how easy it was for your legs to widen with the fabric gone, your body splitting on instinct to greedily pull in more of his length. 

He then groped your perky chest, tweaking your nipples every so often, practically salivating over the fat flesh of your breasts. He was so encapsulated with touching every inch of you that constant groans were leaving your mouth, sliding his cock in and out of your leaking hole faster. 

“So soft,” he groaned, amazement dripping off his every word. “Feels s’good, so sweet.”

“Yeah,” you panted, rolling your hips into his own and making his back arch, “you love m’tits so much, huh?”

“Love you,” he whimpered, obviously too fucked out to comprehend the connotations of his words, but you couldn’t resist pressing an adoring kiss to his lips anyways. 

Then you could clearly feel the pleasure in your insides building now, like rope twisting around your lower body, especially with the way Jonathan’s curved cock deliciously rubbed the entrance of your cervix with each bob. 

Then, you pried one of Jonathan’s needy hands away from your tender breasts, making him whine momentarily before he saw where you were leading his long fingers: right to your puffy clit. 

“Touch me, my sweet pet, and I’ll make you come.” You promised, pressing him roughly against you. 

Jonathan nodded eagerly, and his skillful fingers began artfully playing with your clit, pinching the flesh lightly and furiously rubbing your wetness over the button. Your sounds of pleasure were affecting him, too: you felt his cock throb when his fingers touched you just right and made a breathless mewl leave you. You pressed your forehead against Jonathan’s own, reveling in how focused he was on making you feel good, and you let go. 

Your orgasm flowed over you, making your body twitch and jerk into Jonathan’s relentless touch, the pleasure taking you over completely and making you scream his name. “Oh, fuck, Jon, so good, good boy, you’re my good fucking boy…”

“M’all yours,” he agreed, obviously getting extremely close to the edge as your throbbing cunt clenched around his length. “Yours.”

You breathed haggardly as your high slipped away, your eyes blinking slowly and watching Jonathan helplessly try to get himself off without overstimulating and upsetting you. He wasn’t made to take control, you knew that, and his clueless, pitfiful attempts to do so while still trying to keep your favor made you frown, and slide up off him.

“Lay face down, knees tucked in, baby,” you grunted through a wince, his too-thick cockhead reminding you of the stinging stretch that had long faded away and been replaced with pleasure. 

Jonathan didn’t waste a second obeying your commands, his weeping cock resting on his inner thigh. Your fingers brushed past the base of the dildo still within him, its long length disappearing into his puffy, bloated hole, making him buck forward on his knees. 

“Can you come on this fake cock, pet? You’re a good little slut, aren’t you?” Your said from above him, hand splaying on his left ass cheek and slightly tugging at the flesh to see how full he really was. Spoiler alert: you couldn’t take that whole length in your cunt, much less your tight ass. 

“I’ll come if you tell me to,” Jonathan mewled back, wriggling his ass flirtatiously beneath your hands in some desperate attempt to get you to fuck him and make him release at last. 

You got down on your knees, eyeline direct to his hole, and you snickered mockingly at his eagerness. After pressing a harsh bite on his ass and branding him as yours, you began to fuck him with the fake cock, thrusting it’s length in and out of his ever-tightening asshole and spitting on it to moisten his walls. 

Jonatgan let out several quavering moans, feeling every inch of the dildo within him because of the position, and he drooled a handful of spit onto the couch at the pure pleasure being inflicted on him. It was slightly embarrassing to come because of this silicone object rather than your soaking wet cunt, but as you pounded the dildo into his hole and made it roughly kiss his prostate, Jonathan decided he didn’t care. 

“Come for me,” you demanded gruffly, plowing the dildo in and out of Jonathan’s aching ass, “come undone, baby, all for me.”

At your words, Jonathan -- having been thoroughly tamed at this point -- came, spurting his rich seed onto the couch and his chest, a few drops making their way to his face. He felt you continue to press the length of the dildo in his hole as he rode out his high, and it made for the sickest, bordering-on-painful stimulation. 

It still felt heavenly, though: being allowed to come was the highest privilege for him, because it meant you thought he was worthy. Also, because it satisfied the aching monster within him, the one that wanted so desperately to be roughly fucked and toyed with. 

At last, you slid the dildo out of his hole, admiring how stretched out and wide it made him, before getting up from your place on the floor and sliding onto the couch. You helped Jonathan sit upright and lay his back on the cushy object, your warm hand clasping his cheek gently. 

“All obedient for me now, are you?” you whispered lowly, tickling the bottom of his chin to meet your gaze. 

Jonathan licked his plump lips, “You own me… mistress.” The title sounded right at home on his lips— on both your lips, and you smirked. 

“I like the sound of that,” you purred, a renewed vigor entering your body. Your arms clasped around Jonathan’s bicep, and you pulled him forward while laying down, making him press his tired weight on top of you. “M’gonna use you however I fuckin’ want,” you said in his flushed ear, before lifting your legs up to wrap around your waist.

His eyes widened, “What are you—“

“Shh,” you cut him off softly, hand coming down to squeeze one of his balls tightly, “just listen to Mistress. This night’s far from over, pet.”

Jonathan groaned, eyes squeezIng shut and feeling his cock spring up once more. Fuck, he thought, and damn this horny cock of his; damn your insatiable appetite; damn how fucking good it felt to be yours. 

All yours. 

[leviathanlazarus]

In Your Fantasy

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x (F) Reader

Word Count: ~5300

Warnings: semi-public sex (like...very low-key), oral sex (F receiving), unprotected PIV sex. 18+ only ~

This took me forever to finish because I started it before my stupid tonsillectomy and I was totally useless throughout most of the recovery. Also, it's been absolutely ages since I wrote a Jake x Reader fic so I'm not sure how I feel about it...I really enjoyed writing this regardless of my trepidation though. I loved the idea of falling in love with him at work and him being so cheeky...hope you enjoy it too <3

P.S. also ages ago, I wrote a Josh x Reader fic that also took place in a library which you can read here. Links on my desktop masterlist aren't active for some reason...but I found it using a certain tag lmao. If you know, you know.

---

You were finishing up fixing the order of some art books in the back of the library when you felt Jake come up behind you. “Wanna hear something kind of crazy?” he whispered in your ear, his chin nearly on your shoulder, his hair brushing against yours. Without even seeing him, the closeness and warmth of his body and the low, husky whisper sent a tingle up your spine–he certainly added a level of intrigue to working in a library. 

“Always,” you said, slipping the last book into the correct spot. It was a quiet Thursday afternoon–you’d thought it’d actually be busier given the rain that kept bucketing down outside, creating an even cozier atmosphere, but maybe people just wanted to stay home with their books instead. That was fine by you. You liked it when it was nearly dead silent throughout the building and Jake was there to occasionally break through, his voice a river through your thoughts and his subtle touches all shockwaves to your heart. 

When you turned around to face him, Jake looked like he was holding back a hilarious joke or something, eyes all eager and a grin tight on his lips like he was bursting at the seams. “So I just went to the bathroom and guess what I heard?” he went on, raising his eyebrows. 

You scrunched up your nose, already worried. This wasn’t what you were expecting when he’d said ‘something crazy.’ What sort of craziness happened in libraries anyway? “There are a lot of things I can think of. Is this a gross story?”

Jake chuckled. “It depends on your definition of ‘gross.’ Okay,” he said, looking around to make sure you two were still alone in the section. Then he looked into your eyes again and lowered his voice even more to tell you, “There were people fucking in there.” 

You scoffed, offended on behalf of the library–the sacred, beautiful space where people went to relax and read, not deal with lewd conduct. That wasn’t crazy, that was just offensive! “What, like two guys?” you questioned, tilting your head, a little irked at Jake finding this all so funny. 

“No, a guy and a girl.”

“Ugh. That’s even worse. Women shouldn’t have to deal with getting laid in a men’s bathroom,” you said, then were momentarily distracting yourself with yet another out of place book on the shelf.  “I’d never do that. I can’t believe someone else is. I mean, kids go here.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Jake said slowly. He leaned against the bookshelf and looked at you pointedly, his dark eyes even darker in the dim light. “Then again–”

Before he could finish, you had another thought. “Wait, Jake–did you say anything to them?”

“No. What could I say? I just high-tailed it out of there as soon as I heard.”

You sighed. The whole thing would be far more redeemable if your boyfriend had at least tried to throw out some warning words to the perpetrators. “You should have told them to stop. I would have.”

“I’m sure they finished soon after I left.” He smirked. “It sounded like they were pretty close.”

You groaned quietly and turned away, preferring to find another thing to busy yourself with now. “Gross. They should be banned.”

Jake followed along right at your side as you whisked through the rest of the art section and back to the cart you needed to empty. “I didn’t see who they were, so no chance of that.” At the cart, he put his hands on it, keeping it in place. “I actually thought you’d find it sort of amusing, Y/N.”

You leaned over, almost close enough to touch your noses together. “You’re such a guy. Only a guy would think it’s amusing and not disgusting.” 

“I don’t know about that. Maybe you’re just a little stuffy,” Jake replied, tilting his head up as if he were challenging you. “Although maybe I shouldn’t be surprised, considering we’ve never done anything like that.”

You scoffed again and leaned back, surprised and still a little irritated, but also genuinely curious. “Oh, so you want to fuck around in a public place? That’s something I didn’t know about you.”

Jake’s challenging stance turned crestfallen, and he lifted one of your hands to press a kiss to. “Forget I said anything about it. I mean, I suppose you’re right–it is kind of gross.” He kept your hand clasped in his for a few seconds as he said, “But I’d never make love to you in a public bathroom. I’d hope you know me better than that.”

You looked over your shoulder at the sound of a man clearing his throat, settling down into a chair with a newspaper. He wasn’t paying any attention to you or Jake, but you gave the cart a push anyway, cajoling Jake off it so you could navigate to where you needed to go next. 

“It’s really the fact that it’s the bathroom that makes it so gross,” you whispered as Jake kept following you. You couldn’t deny you’d had some secret fantasies about getting it on in the library–after all, it was where you and Jake had met and where you continued to spend the most time together. But none of your fantasies included the restrooms in the hall, or the utility closet or that little corridor tucked away across from the restrooms where the vending machines were. Too grody, too cramped, too obvious.

“At least our bathrooms are clean.” Jake parked himself right next to you once you were in the biography section, and when you stepped away from the cart, he wrapped his arms around your waist and held you in place. “But if I’m being really honest, I have thought about us, well, fooling around here. I think it’s quite surprising we never have.”

“Jake,” you said in an attempt to protest, but his sweet, pretty face and ticklish touch on your waist made you giggle, and his confession that echoed your own secret thoughts lit a little spark. “We work here!” 

“So? All the more reason. It’s always been our special place.” Jake smiled as he got even closer to kiss you; you kissed him back, looping your arms over his shoulders. He was smiling even bigger when you both broke away and he said, “You know, it’s just me closing tonight. You should stay after with me.”

“God, and do what?” you replied, but, despite yourself, you were growing more intrigued. 

“Well, don’t you think the study rooms here are nice and cozy?” Jake questioned, still latching himself to your side as you started to put more books away. “There aren’t any cameras in any of them either. No one would know.”

You looked up at him from your crouched position, sliding a book into place. “Someone would know. Someone would find out somehow.” You were quickly finding even more perfectly good reasons in your mind not to do this, to not even really toy with the idea, but the more you thought about it, the more you thought, why not? Could the risk make it more fun? Even just the new, ill-fitting, sort of scandalous environment? 

Besides, Jake really did look hot today. He looked hot every day, but the second you’d seen him after he’d come into work earlier, he’d lit a fire in your belly that was more intense than usual. His hair had the perfect level of slight messiness and the relaxed black button-down shirt was perhaps one or two buttons shy of being overtly inappropriate for work; the smooth tan skin of his chest exposed and acting as a lovely backdrop to the long silver chain dangling, the pendant hitting his sternum. You could imagine tugging on that chain, grasping the pendant in your palm, to pull him closer while he pressed you against one of those thick wooden tables. You’d run your fingers through his hair and kiss him in the frozen silence, and maybe no one would ever know after all.

“I can practically hear the wheels turning,” Jake remarked, tapping your forehead once you were standing again. “You know you want to.” 

You let out an inadvertent nervous giggle and rolled your eyes. “Yes, I’m thinking about it.”

Jake stepped closer, pressing you back against the cart of books. “I’d love to hear some of those thoughts,” he said, putting his hands on your waist.

“You’re lucky it’s dead here today,” you said, keeping your voice a whisper despite the, indeed, dead library around you. You rested your arms over his shoulders, twisting a strand of his hair between your fingers; Jake just kept looking at you with that sweet, silently begging gaze until you giggled, relenting. “Okay. I was, um…thinking about you pushing me down on one of those big tables.”

Jake’s eyebrows rose. “What else?”

“Well…” you began, looking down at his dark jeans rubbing against your skirt. “You’re giving me some more ideas now.” You lifted one foot off the floor to rub your calf over his, the delicate material of your tights creating subtle but scintillating friction against his denim. 

Jake ran the tip of his nose up your cheek and whispered in your ear, “Same here.” 

Just as you were closing your eyes and allowing yourself to let your environment fall away around you, to forget about all the risk of being caught right there, and just as Jake’s hand was sliding down between your legs, a person’s incredibly soft–thanks to the clever carpeting job–footsteps headed your way yanked you right out of the moment.

Jake, too. He shot back and cleared his throat, ran a hand through his hair and looked in the direction of the footsteps; you did too, and soon enough an older woman with her nose already in an open book trotted past the shelves. 

“See?” you whispered, gesturing at the passer-by who was already out of view. “It’s so easy to get caught.”

“Please, that lady didn’t notice a thing. Alright,” Jake said before he stole one last hurried kiss. “I should let you keep doing your job and I should carry on with mine. But will you stay after with me tonight?”

You pursed your lips as you looked at him, considering, but it wasn’t long before you said, “Alright, Jake. I’ll stay after and we can play out your little fantasy.”

“It’s your fantasy too, baby doll,” Jake said with a wink before he half-turned, beginning to step away. “I think we’ve established that.”

-

There wasn’t a whole lot to keep your mind occupied as the afternoon carried on. The rain kept coming down, hammering hard against the roof and windows, and the sky outside was pure gray, all flat and blank. It reminded you of your first day working here, as a matter of fact–that morning in the previous late October, when autumn’s chill was officially in the air. A fine layer of frost had even been on the ground that morning; your shoes had crunched over it on the short walk to your car and you’d had to use your defroster once you turned the key, your anxiety peaking as you had to wait even longer to start the new job. 

How could such a quiet, peaceful place encite so much anxiety anyway? You remembered wondering that very question as you walked over the sidewalk to the library entrance for the first time since being hired, the concrete slick with that morning frost and the beginnings of a gentle rainfall. And just when you’d been settling in and getting comfortable, Jake had showed up and introduced himself, all casual and easy like he didn’t know he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.

Thankfully, Jake was also the sweetest man you’d ever met. It didn’t take long before his beauty and charm stopped intimidating you and instead just made you feel all light and full of joy–you were simply happy to chat with him whenever you both could spare a few minutes. Those few minutes steadily turned into shared breaks; then, shared lunches where you’d sit out back on the one picnic table when the weather permitted. Then he started bringing you special treats sometimes, things he knew you liked because he actually listened about what you liked, and then after that he started bringing you whole lunches packed with love and care that you’d never experienced before. 

So, after all that, was it really such a big deal to make love inside the place in which you fell in love?

None of your other coworkers even seemed to notice that you were staying later than planned this evening. But, just to be safe, you also made a point to hide out in the kid’s section when closing time crept up, busying yourself with cleaning up stray crayons and markers and then browsing through some of the newer picture book additions when you were done with that. 

When you were sliding one picture book back onto the shelf and reaching for another, you noticed the part of the library beyond the kid’s section dim; you stood up and walked out into the main area, and there Jake was behind the checkout counters flipping switches.

“Despite almost always being the one to close,” he said, flipping another switch. “I still sometimes forget which lights actually get turned off and which ones stay on.”

A path of yellow light led the way past the checkout and reception, past the few rows of public use desktop computers. Jake held your hand as you both stepped through the library, your heartbeat speeding up a bit with nervous yet delightful anticipation; a few more steps and you were further into the very back of the library, just about there. Four study rooms were staggered just beyond the teen reading section, two on the left and two on the right with a wall of windows in between. 

Jake opened the door to the last study room on the right. A large window was in there too, soaking in the deep sunset that was resting beyond the grass outside and the trees, and the mostly-bare branches of all the trees were throwing shadows across the library grounds. Then Jake flipped the light on, making it all disappear.

“Oh no,” you said, reaching behind him to flip it off again. “It’s sort of magical with the light off. Look at that sunset.”

Jake followed your gaze out the window to the wash of deep blue painted across the sky, nighttime so early in autumn that only a slight sliver of golden-orange remained just on the horizon. The rain had stopped a few minutes ago and had left a lingering mist on the ground, its faint haze trailing along just outside the windows–the whole scene was so much more peaceful than what was going on inside your head. You couldn’t shake the possibility of getting caught even though Jake was right about there being no cameras back here, and there was no one else around, not even any of the custodial staff, and not a soul out there in the fog. Just you and Jake in the little dark study room, his hand still warm around your own.

Your thoughts started to drift away, making space for your mind to comprehend the shadowed image of Jake before you as he gently turned you to face him. He smiled with the slightest bit of white teeth gleaming between his full lips, and you instinctively smiled back, pulled under his charm again. So, now effortlessly charmed and put at ease, you wrapped him in your arms and pulled him close, caressing his shoulder blade with one hand and the slight curve of his waist with the other as both of your smiles disappeared into a kiss. 

“You were making me crazy all day,” he remarked between the kisses that accelerated with both of your lips parted and the wet meeting of tongues. 

“Really? You kept it well-hidden.” Of course Jake did–you never doubted his affection and passion for you, but he kept everything so private. It was one of the many things you liked about him. You cupped the back of his head, sinking your fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails just the way he liked it, and kissed him again.

“God, your ass in this skirt,” Jake said, voice a little rough, and he reached down to grab you there. “The way your hips move.” He licked his bottom lip as he took a moment to just look at you, his eyes scanning your face. “So unbelievably pretty.”

You held the side of his face. “You are too, Jakey.” He really was, and even in the dark–perhaps especially in the dark, actually. The shadows enveloped him in even more mystery than normal, but you could still so plainly see the angles of his face and the smoothness of his skin in the faint, distant glow of the lingering sunset. Jake smiled at the sound of that little nickname coming from you, then disappeared as he pressed his lips to yours again and pushed you back against the table just like in your little fantasy. 

You felt the warmth of his hand travel around your hip then slide down over your skirt; you kissed him harder and spread your legs a little wider when his fingers skated effortlessly up your thigh over your tights. Jake purred against your mouth as he traced the seam of those tights, and subsequently the crotch of your panties beneath, with one fingertip, and your own hands hurried down his body with much less grace to squeeze his ass and feel the hardness between his legs as reciprocity. 

Before you could do much more than that, he was pushing your skirt up all the way with one hand and continuing to use the other to tease you. Your breath caught in your throat as you were finding yourself trying to stay silent despite the library being completely empty; Jake carried on with longer, deeper touches over the crotch of your panties and tights. The steady back and forth of his fingers over the two thin layers of fabric sent a delightful tingle of pleasure up your spine but you couldn’t forget his either–you kept that one hand of your own on his crotch too, gently squeezing his erection through his pants.

Jake huffed softly and kissed you again; you clutched his arm with your other hand, squeezing his bicep. Maybe other people didn’t mind getting caught–maybe there really was some sort of thrill to it. Maybe other people actually sometimes wanted others to witness their most intimate moments but you didn’t. You couldn’t imagine doing this with the lights on in the middle of the day, with the soft noises of people beyond the walls and the risk of someone catching a glimpse from opening the door or from outside the windows. You were perfectly happy with having Jake all to yourself in the shadowed little square study room, his skin so perfectly warm, his kiss so perfectly molded to yours.

“Was this part of your fantasy?” Jake questioned as he slowly sank to his knees, keeping your skirt bunched up over your hips with both hands now. But it was obvious what he was doing, so you took their place to keep it out of the way while his hands squeezed your thighs as he pressed his face between your legs.

The scant sharpness of his teeth over your crotch made you gasp. “Maybe,” you answered, thighs quivering against the table behind you.

“Oh, come on,” Jake beckoned, looking up at you with a sweet but slightly mischievous gaze, his eyebrows raised just enough to display teasing curiosity. 

“Seems like you already know,” you replied, stifling a giggle at him struggling to get your tights down from beneath your skirt. 

“I don’t know how you wear these things,” he remarked, which made you actually let out a laugh.

“Just rip them for fuck’s sake,” you instructed, eager now, already wet for him. “They’re not expensive.”

Jake didn’t hesitate. “If you insist,” he said as he grabbed a fistful of black nylon in each hand and ripped the tights right open, then quickly pulled your panties to the side next, giving you no time to think at all anymore. Whatever words your mind may have found merely turned to shaky breaths as you watched Jake’s face disappear between your legs again.

He gave a little hum just as he went straight in, the bridge of his nose rubbing up against your clit while he dove his tongue into your center like he really did want to eat up all the arousal that had been conjured up just for him. Your fingers found his hair again, knuckles curling to tug the long strands while your nails scratched his scalp again and he let out a little pleased sound, almost like a gratified laugh, and dug his own blunt nails into your inner thigh as he kept you spread open. 

One word finally emerged from your lips–Jake’s name, simply spoken in a soft tone as the ministration of his tongue and lips had you squirming and quivering even harder, your heels digging into the carpet below as you slightly struggled to stay upright. The repeated flicks of tongue over your clit disappeared for a brief moment, then slowed to one long drag of his tongue over your center just to start that quick pace again. Sighs and whimpers were dragged out of you with each lick; when Jake slipped two fingers in, the slow but easy stretch made you tremble and clench your fingers into his hair even harder.

“You’re so tight,” he commented when he pulled back just enough for you to look down again and see your own wetness glistening on his lips and chin. You could feel it too, how much tighter you were clenching around his fingers as he gently thrust them and teased, curling them and now rubbing your clit with his thumb.

“You’re so good,” you told him breathlessly, closing your eyes again when the sensations had you arching your back. You hissed and bit your lip when Jake’s mouth found you again, his tongue teasing your clit more while he slid his fingers in deeper.

You had thought it would take more of a conscious effort to relax in this space and just let go, but it was easy, so easy–you just let your body respond to Jake with each tremble and moan and gasp and tug at his hair until your legs were outright shaking. Panting, the peak rising deep inside, you pulled him closer and he obliged, sucking on your clit as his fingers curled and gently tugged deep inside you too as if he was literally trying to pull you right to the edge you were already rapidly careening to.

His name from your lips once more wasn’t a soft little sigh; it was a sharp, long whine that seemed to boom in the little study room. Your ferocity surprised you even more when the overstimulation came on so soon and you yanked his head back with one hand and shoved him away with the other, your hand gripping his shoulder. Panting, eyes still shut, you could feel how much wetter you were with his saliva and the rush of your orgasm, the fluid soaking your panties that were pulled to the side and even the very inside of your thighs. 

Jake pressing a kiss to your thigh made you look down but he was getting up on his feet now; your gaze followed the steady movement of his rise and then you were whisked away into blissful darkness again when he closed in and kissed you–close-lipped because he was so polite. But you parted yours and slid your tongue over his and gripped his waist tight for a moment before hastily getting those buttons on his shirt undone, fingers trailing all the way down to get his pants undone next. 

He tentatively pushed you back onto the table a bit more so your feet were off the floor, legs still spread wide around him and dangling when he pulled his pants and underwear down just enough to reveal that heated hardness. His cock leaked just a bit as he stroked it once, looking at you, and a blip of that old insecurity born from adoration and fascination stroked your brain, because Jake was just so beautiful and his beauty was so much more stark in contrast to the plain white walls behind him. 

“That was intense,” Jake said with a chuckle, leaning in to kiss you. You sighed against his lips as he slid the head of his cock all through your wet center, making a point to rub longer and harder over your clit. As he slid in, taking your breath away entirely, he sighed too and you watched his shoulders drop and his chest flush and he asked, so casually, “Is your fantasy being fulfilled?”

Even with the impact of Jake’s cock filling you so perfectly, you had to laugh. “You're a fantasy, Jake,” you told him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to bring him closer, to make the head of his cock hit so deep inside you that you gasped again as if you weren’t expecting the feeling. “What about–” You had to pause when Jake gave his first thrust. “What about your fantasy? This was all your idea.”

“It was a shared idea,” he reminded you with the cutest little smile. How could anyone be so sexy and adorable at the same time, especially during the actual act of sex, especially when that sex was taking place inside a public library? But he was, and you kept your eyes on him as he steadily sped up with his hips and his hands explored your body over your clothes, one squeezing your breast through your shirt and the other smoothing down your waist, your hip, traveling around your thigh.

“Oh god,” you chirped when Jake’s fingers made contact with your still-sensitive clit; but he was gentle, clearly deliberately being slow with the little circles he was making. With your arms still a loop around his shoulders, you sank your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and held him there for a minute before the soft pink of his chest became too tempting not to touch.

“Fuck yeah, that feels amazing,” Jake said in that deliciously hazy, husky voice after you slipped your hands past his open shirt to toy with his nipples. Bringing more attention to him put your lingering overstimulation in the background–you continued to tease with one hand while the other skated over the other side of his chest, feeling his warm, soft skin, up to his neck. You caressed him there, your fingers lightly touching the tender skin along his throat and then up to his ear, and Jake moaned softly and tilted his head to try and get more contact.

That was fine by you. You lightly scratched behind his ear like he was a cat and he sort of purred like one anyway, making you giggle; Jake giggled too and surged forward, picking up his pace as he whisked you away with another series of kisses that were deep but just sloppy enough for your mutual moans to be voiced. 

But, also to your surprise, Jake began to voice more thoughts between increasingly ragged breaths: “Remember when we first met?” he asked, his fingers over your clit sliding down to get slick again from your own arousal. “That was–fuck, that was such a good day.”

“It was,” you agreed, playing with one of his earrings as your other hand squeezed his pec. “I’m lucky I even got the job here. For a lot of reasons.” You stole another lingering kiss before adding, “You’re the biggest reason.”

Jake smiled. The sunset that had been just barely clinging to life when you’d both began was gone now–the only illumination was coming from a parking lot light that was too far away from the windows to see, but the pale yellow glow was scant enough to see that alluring, mystical beauty that your boyfriend possessed. Just looking at his face was enough to make you come again.

But Jake’s skilled fingers and the heat, weight and stretch of his cock still thrusting into you certainly helped. You buried your face against his neck now that you had access to all of him; a thick sob was muffled as you tightened and spasmed around him, and you heard him let out a quiet “wow” as the second orgasm rolled through you. 

His fingers on your clit, thankfully, moved away. He gripped your thigh again instead; his pace was now messy and fierce, and you had to fight to stay in place not only from the harsh movements and how the table you were sitting on was skidding a bit across the floor, but also from that second round of intense bodily excitement. 

“God,” you huffed, stifling another laugh. Apparently it didn't matter where you were–if you were with Jake, he just gave you the giggles. “You’re really going for it.”

Jake cradled the back of your head, messing with your hair a bit. “And I’m–hmm–almost there.”

You kissed him softly and sweetly, from his collarbone and up his neck to his ear. “Good boy,” you whispered there, giving his ear a nibble. Jake moaned wordlessly in response and gave one last deep, solid thrust that jostled you backwards and made the table creak, then he went slack over you, his whole upper body all loose and so hot that warmth was radiating through his shirt.

When Jake lifted his head, you leaned back and waved the back of your hand over your forehead with a silly “whew” motion; Jake laughed and nodded, then slowly pulled out. He collapsed forward again, resting his head on your chest, and you wrapped your arms around him once more. 

“Well, we’ve done it once. Do we ever need to do it again?” you asked, petting his back.

“Like, um, sex?” Jake asked, mumbling against your chest. “Or sex in the library?”

“In the library, duh,” you said with a chuckle, and kissed him when he lifted himself up and looked at you. 

“Where else should we do it?” Jake replied, his tone and little smile making it obvious he was kidding–finally. You were glad to have played out this little fantasy and do something new and a little risky, but you’d be even more glad to just go back to the way things were. Nothing wrong with a classic. 

“Our bed, definitely,” you said, and Jake smiled and nodded again; you began working on buttoning up his shirt. “Our couch. The floor. Maybe the shower.” 

“Maybe?”

“Last time we tried the shower, you nearly cracked your head open,” you reminded him, lifting a hand to cup his jaw. “And nearly broke your perfect teeth.”

Jake’s smile grew wider. “That would be terrible, wouldn’t it?”

“I’d never forgive that stupid shower.”

Jake patted his hands from your shoulders down the length of your body, stopping at your ankles. “Well, babe, we’re both in one piece now, aren’t we? Time to close up?”

“Definitely. The custodians are probably going to be here any minute.”

“Oh my.” Jake held your hand to bring you off the table. “That would have been quite the show for them.” 

“No more shows,” you said as you both put the finishing touches on getting yourselves decent before Jake opened the door. “I should be the only one looking at you when we fuck.”

---

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[sl-ut]

new years eve

more college!abby

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE PUBLISHED A WHILE AGO, BUT LIKE I MENTIONED BEFORE, A LOT OF SHIT CAME UP AND DIDN’T LET ME FINISH ANYTHING THAT I’VE BEEN WORKING ON. TYSM FOR YOUR PATIENCE, AND ENJOY!

also tysm to @princesssmars for giving me permission to steal her idea lol ily babe.

pairing: college!abby anderson x fem!reader

description: abby invites y/n on her friends’ annual new years ski trip! five days of uninterrupted fun at a private chalet with abby, her friends, her ex boyfriend, and his current girlfriend who seems to have some kind of vendetta against them both. 

warnings: UNEDITED, smut (not a lot tbh), swearing, alcohol consumption, mentions of drug use, owen is really mean to reader, homophobia, a lot of sweet little moments between abby and reader

words: 7.4K

date posted: 07/01/24

Y/n knew she wasn’t exactly the most welcome on this trip, they didn’t even try to hide it. The only exception to this would be, of course, Nora, who’d been the one to set her up with Abby in the first place, and Manny, who genuinely seemed like the only one who didn’t seem bothered by her presence at all times. Not wanting to impose on a seemingly very strict tradition, Y/n initially declined her girlfriend’s offer to spend New Years Eve together in Aspen, which didn’t go over as well with Abby as she had expected.

“They don’t mind, really.” She tried to reassure her, only to be met with a knowing look, “Okay, a few of them feel that we shouldn’t bring people outside of our friend group, but think about it; Owen and Mel are both going, Leah is bringing Jordan…” Then came the ultimatum of, “No, if you don’t go, I don’t go.”

The threat was more than what Abby’s words even said. The cabin belonged to Abby’s grandparents, and were more than enthusiastic about their sole grandchild using it with her friends over the holidays, but were stern with the condition that Abby was not to let them go up and destroy it. To summarise, if Abby didn’t go, nobody did, and Y/n was certain that her friends would hate her less if she joined them than if she caused the entire trip to be cancelled.

So there she was on the twenty-ninth of December, tightly belted into the front seat of Abby’s Bronco on the road to Aspen. The drive wasn’t terrible, only a few hours from Abby’s childhood home just outside of Salt Lake city, though Abby made it sort of enjoyable by making a road-trip playlist and barely taking her large hand away from her girlfriend’s thigh throughout the remainder of the journey. 

The chalet was more than Y/n even had the ability to imagine. It looked like it was straight out of a movie; high ceilings, wooden panelling lining the entire interior, large windows looking out over a snow-covered valley, all that was missing was for the pair of them to snuggle up together in front of the wide stone fireplace, which was bound to happen at some point over the holiday. As she ran her fingertips over the glazed butcher block counters, she was thankful that the others wouldn’t be arriving until the next day, giving them more time to fulfil the fantasies that had been racing through her mind since setting foot inside the chalet. 

Abby was eager to give the full tour, looking delightfully in-place in her tight jeans and cream coloured cable knit sweater. She left no room or corner alone, using little anecdotes and stories from her childhood to help her feel more at home, and finishing by explaining exactly how she would fuck her in each and every room. Y/n laughed and brushed it off in the moment, but came to realise that she was dead serious when she could barely move her legs to crawl out of bed the next morning.

The sweet bliss was finally interrupted by the rest of the crew making their arrivals. First came Leah and Jordan, who immediately rushed to the next biggest room and then made their way to the jacuzzi on the deck. Then came Manny and Nora, who couldn’t seem to get to the kitchen fast enough, before finally, Mel and Owen quietly made their way in, offering silent greetings to their friends before going straight to their bedroom, which didn’t seem to bode well with Mel, who’s complaints carried through the entire ventilation system of the house. 

The others seemed to have no patience for their drama, all clearly picking up on the fact that they must have fought the entire drive, as well as the thick tension that filled the room whenever they were both present. Instead, they all gathered in the kitchen for a late lunch and began pouring drinks, loud laughter overwhelming the hushed argument escaping the vent. Y/n was a little surprised to see that even Abby had reached for a second beer, the merriment in the kitchen and the overall excitement for the holiday seeming more important to her in that moment than her otherwise strict fitness regimen, though she really didn’t mind. In fact, she sort of liked the way that she had been looser than she normally would have been, gliding her hands across Y/n’s body without care, laughing along carelessly to jokes that she normally would’ve only chuckled at. She was more open with the group, and made sure to keep Y/n involved in the conversation even when the others talked over top of her. 

The atmosphere felt warm, like they were spending time with their closest family members. Manny showed off his mixology skills, which were mediocre at best, while Nora and Abby whipped up a luxurious rendition of pasta with a side salad, all of which seemed to disappear in a matter of minutes, leaving barely enough for both Mel and Owen to split between themselves once they finally re-emerged from their shared bedroom. 

The sun was beginning to set early, thanks to the shorter days of winter, leaving poor Manny no other option but to wait until morning until he could finally hit the slopes. Instead, he found interest in offering constant refills to everyone in order to, as he put it, boost morale. Abby had taken the initiative to cut herself off, wanting to make sure she still had her wits about her while also being able to relax, and made sure to warn Y/n about Manny’s drinks.

“He calls himself a mixologist,” She’d whispered into her girlfriend’s ear, “But I’d say he’s more of a wizard. He makes drinks so strong, but somehow covers up the taste of the liquor.”

That was the first and final time that Y/n ignored a warning from Abby, soon enough finding herself stumbling out the door in just her bathing suit, ears completely deaf to everyone’s questions of concern for the nearly naked girl in the cold weather as she clambered into the jacuzzi. She grinned, watching as Abby followed closely behind her, along with Manny, Nora, and Leah.

She snuggled up against Abby’s side, relishing in the weight of her thick bicep around her shoulder as she only half-listened to whatever Nora was trying to fill her in on, and babbling on about some nonsense that no one really had much interest in hearing, but they all listened in and responded as if she were telling the most interesting tale to ever exist. 

Once Leah and Nora took over the conversation, she turned to stare up at her girlfriend with glossy eyes, grinning stupidly at the mere sight of her face.

“What?” Abby laughed when she finally took notice.

Y/n shrugged, answering as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “Nothing, just thinking about how much I love you.”

Abby’s already flushed cheeks darkened, but she was quick to press a longing kiss to her forehead and return the sentiment lovingly. 

“No,” Y/n frowned, “You don’t understand, I love you. I love how smart you are, I love how you make me laugh, I love how you make me feel loved, I love how you make me feel.”

Abby glanced around at the others to ensure that they weren’t overhearing this intimate conversation. Thankfully, Manny was too wrapped up in making sure that Nora was correctly recounting the time that he successfully hooked up with his TA and bumped his grade up.

“I love your abs, and your big beefy arms.” Y/n continued, leaning her head back against the bulging muscle to emphasise her point, “I love your fingers, too. And of course I love your face, and your pretty eyes, and your nose–God I love your nose, I just wanna sit on it–”

All conversation seemed to stop as the patio door creaked open, all heads turning in surprise to see Owen standing in the doorway, swimming trunks hanging low on his hips and a towel slung over his shoulder. 

“Room for one more?”

Manny was the first to break the silence, “Of course, man. We all thought you guys were just calling it for the night.”

The blond furrowed his brow, “What, you guys really thought you could replace me so easily?”

The words were so obviously aimed at his ex-girlfriend and the girl curled into her side, and if she hadn’t been so intoxicated, this probably would have been enough to send Y/n off the rails when it came to Owen. Instead, Abby took the reins in order to diffuse the situation. 

“Are you gonna get in or are you gonna keep on bitching, Moore?” 

He looked equally as pleased and displeased with her dual-sided tone, both wanting to keep things light while also warning him not to start anything. 

“Yeah, yeah,” He tossed his towel to the side and climbed in, taking a seat next to Leah and directly across from Abby. “Whatever.”

The group sat in silence for a few moments before Y/n finally chimed in, “Where’s Mel? Is she coming down?”

He seemed to be visibly annoyed by either the question or by her, probably both. “She’s upstairs, not feeling too well.”

“Oh,” She nodded along, “That’s too bad, I think she really would’ve liked whatever drink Manny just made me.”

Manny grinned at the credit, “I call it, dulce peligro.”

Nora snorted, “Sweet danger? That’s a little on the nose, even for you, don’t you think?”

“Hey, when you start mixing up drinks like that, then you get a say, ‘kay?”

Owen’s stern tone cut through the playful nature of their bickering, “Not likely. None of us really come up here and get sloshed anymore, I guess we’ve all just matured past that.”

Embarrassment crept up her throat, causing tears to spring into her eyes from his clear disapproval of her current state. Nora and Leah shared an uncomfortable stare, both seemingly ready to grab Abby before she could make a move against him, her disbelief and anger so clear on her face. 

“Well I definitely haven’t,” Manny chuckled awkwardly, “Besides, the holidays are the only time of the year where it's actually encouraged to get shitfaced.”

“Yeah,” Nora jumped in, “The night’s still young, and most of us probably aren’t even gonna remember tonight.”

Their words had obviously been a mere attempt at bringing comfort to the younger girl, whose face betrayed the insecurity that was very rapidly eating away at her drunken confidence from the inside out. Her eyes had become even glossier, and her heaving breaths made it clear that she was on the verge of tears. 

“No,” She wiped at her nose with the back of her hand, “He’s right, I think it’s time I put myself to bed.”

Abby grabbed her hand as she stood up, carefully stepping over her girlfriend’s legs and onto the steps that lead out onto the deck, “Hey, hey, don’t go yet. You’re having fun.”

Y/n could tell she was trying to keep her cool, not wanting to put the other three of her friends in the position of hearing her and Owen fighting once again. She shook her head, stepping out onto the pine floor and wrapping herself in the fluffy white robe that Abby had brought out for her, “I’m tired, I might go take a shower and then just go to bed.”

Abby nodded, standing from her own seat and moving to climb out after her, “Alright, I’m gonna hit the hay too, guys.”

“Aww,” Nora whined, “Guys don’t go yet.”

“Stay,” Y/n turned to Abby, offering a weak smile, “I’m just… tired. You don’t have to come to bed yet.”

“Let me walk you up,” She was practically begging at this point, wanting to comfort her girlfriend when she was so obviously upset. 

“C’mon Abs, she’s a big girl. I’m sure she can go to sleep without being tucked in for just one night.”

Abby scowled at him, turning to him with intent as she growled at him, “What the hell is your problem?”

It was true, as bad as Owen usually was when Y/n was around, he was usually only passive aggressive, but now he was just being downright mean. If Abby hadn’t already gone to hell and back trying to convince her friend to let Y/n come (even though she really didn’t give them a choice), Y/n wasn’t about to let the whole vacation be ruined by her pride, choosing to allow Owen’s words to slide rather than biting back as she usually would. 

“Abs, it’s okay,” Y/n tried again. 

“No I don’t think-”

Nora was the next person to step out of the tub, “You know, I’m starting to get a little pruny anyways, so why don’t I help her to bed?”

Abby appeared annoyed at Nora’s intrusion, but allowed her to pull Y/n away from the situation and back into the chalet, leaving Leah and Manny to face the intense staredown between her and Owen before they, too, fled the scene, allowing the real fighting to start.

Hardly an hour had passed since Y/n had curled herself into bed, not even bothering to get herself ready at all aside from removing her bathing suit and snuggling back into the fluffy robe, leaving her surprised when her light sleep was broken by the feeling of the mattress sinking next to her. Abby looked tired, irritation clear on her face as she slumped against the headboard with a quiet sigh. Her eyes softened as she turned to glance at her girlfriend, an apologetic smile crossing her features when their eyes met. 

“Sorry baby, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“‘S okay,” Y/n’s words were slurred with sleep, “‘M sorry too.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Owen’s just being a…he’s being a stupid prick.”

Y/n pushed herself up, scooching across the mattress to snuggle into her girlfriend’s side as sighing at the comforting weight of her arm around her shoulder, “I know but… I don’t know. I guess I can see why he’s annoyed. I’m not one of you guys, I know how I would feel if one of my friends invited their partners to join our traditions.”

“It’s not even about that, it’s–” she cut herself off, a deep frown cutting into her cheeks, “It’s nothing. Let’s just forget it.” She hugged Y/n tighter to her chest, pressing a long kiss to the crown of her head. “I love you, you know that, right?”

Y/n lifted her head, concern filling her at her girlfriend’s tone, “Is something wrong? Did something happen with Owen?”

Abby looked alarmed, “What–No, no. Nothing happened. I promise.”

“Good,” Y/n nuzzled her head back into her shoulder, “‘Cause I’ll kick his ass.”

Abby snorted, “I’m sure you would. Now go back to sleep, I’m gonna go take a shower and I’ll be back.”

Y/n whined, “Are you punishing me or something?”

Abby cocked her head in confusion.

“No invitation?”

A knowing smirk appeared on the blonde’s lips, “I don’t know if you know what you’re asking for here, baby.”

Y/n pushed herself away from Abby, crawling to stand at the foot of the bed as she slowly backed up towards the bathroom, hips swaying seductively as she untied her robe and let it slowly glide down her arms until it hit the floor with a soft thud, leaving her bare for her girlfriend’s viewing pleasure. She bit her lip, fluttering her lashes as she whispered a response, “I think I do.”

Abby grinned, moving faster than Y/n’s brain could even register to race towards her and haul her body over her shoulder as she rushed into the large ensuite. She reached the shower, turning the water on to allow it to heat up for a few moments before she placed her girlfriend onto the marble countertop. 

Y/n’s brain swirled with pleasure as the seconds ticked by, the room slowly heating up as steam curled around the glass wall of the insanely oversized shower, feelings only heightened from the bit of alcohol still in her system and her girlfriend’s hands and lips roaming around her body. 

“Abs,” she gasped out as her fingers massaged her inner thigh, “I think the water’s ready.”

Despite her previous flurry of attention, Abby seemed to have settled down the moment that they set foot in the shower, relishing in the casual intimacy of carefully washing each other’s hair, lathering one another in a foamy vanilla scented body wash, and just holding each other under the hot water. After all was said and done, Abby pulled her back against her chest, one arm wrapping around her waist and the other curling around her shoulders to hold her in place. Y/n leaned her head back, staring up at the taller blonde with droopy eyelids. 

“I love you too.”

“Huh?”

Y/n giggled, “I never said it back earlier, so I am now.”

Abby shook her head, leaning down to press a kiss to her soft lips, “I love you more.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you to the moon and back ten times.”

“Well I love you times infinity!”

“Infinity?” Abby whistled, tightening her arms around her, “Don’t know if I can beat that.”

Scoffing in mock offence, Y/n turned her head to sink her teeth into the meaty bulge of Abby’s bicep, just biting hard enough to leave the faintest of teeth marks in her burning skin.

“Hey!” Abby grunted, twirling her around to face her, “I bring you on this nice vacation, I make you dinner, I drive you around, I rock your world whenever you ask,” her face grew closer with every statement, “And this is the thanks I get?”

Y/n squealed at the feeling of her fingers digging into her sides, leaning up to press their foreheads together, “I suppose you’re right, I’m sorry.” Her hands moved from their places on her biceps, gliding up her slick skin to her neck, then down over her chest, one finding purchase on one of her toned breasts, the other pressing into her firm abdomen, massaging the protruding muscles appreciatively, “Can I make it up to you?”

Abby didn’t respond, instead gripping the back of her head and slamming their lips together, teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance, though the fight was over within seconds as Abby forced her girlfriend into submission. She allowed her to press her against the wall, her shorter frame pressing against her so tightly that it would seem they were connected, then seemingly made the move to flip them around until Y/n pulled back.

“Nuh-uh, I’m making it up to you, remember?” Her hand slid even lower, resting against her lower belly just above the thick patch of blonde curls between her legs. 

“Baby, you don’t have to–oh,” Her words came to a halt as her fingers grazed against her clit. 

It was a fight that they had on the regular, Abby always feeling like she had to be on the giving end, and not the receiving. To be quite fair, there was never a time where Abby didn’t finish during sex with Y/n, but she seemed to be determined to only allow it happen either against the harness of her strap or directly against Y/n’s own centre. Hell, they’d been seeing each other for almost two months before she even let Y/n go down on her for the first time. She was a giver, and tended to find pleasure in giving, but was growing to enjoy the aspect of receiving just as much.

“Just let me,” Y/n whispered against the wet skin of her neck, lips pressing against her jugular with an indescribable softness. “Can I? Please?”

After finally receiving the green light, Y/n wasted no time in dropping to her knees, nudging Abby’s feet apart as she slid her hands over her thick thighs, lips and tongue gliding along the trembling muscles until the tip of her nose was met with the coarse hair covering her pubis. 

A soft grunt fell from Abby’s lips at the contact, chuckling at the feeling of her girlfriend’s nose prodding even further inwards, poking at her clit.

“Spread your legs, baby,” Y/n murmured, mouth barely parting from the skin of her inner thigh as she spoke, carefully scooching in closer as Abby complied, even slinging one of her calves over her shoulder to offer better access. “Thank you.”

Abby laughed, “Look at you, on your knees for me and still so polite. Such a good girl.”

Y/n moaned at the words, finally moving her mouth to drag her tongue up the entire length of Abby’s cunt, whining at the taste of Abby’s dripping nectar. She twirled her tongue around her engorged clit, dragging the muscle over the bundle of nerves, encouraged by Abby’s moans and the grip she had on the back of her head. 

“Right there,” The blonde gasped, bucking her hips against her face, pressing her hand even more firmly against the base of her skull. “Yeah, right fucking there. Shit.”

Then the real moaning started. What had begun as muffled grunts had quickly developed into breathy cries of pleasure, the only words falling from her lips being drawn out curses or punchy words of praise. 

Y/n prodded her tongue around the opening of her core, poking inside shallowly, hardly able to slip inside with how tightly she was clenching. Chuckling, Y/n drew her middle finger against the opening, “Relax for me, Abby.”

At her words, the muscles of her core almost immediately relaxed, easily accepting the intrusion of her finger with eagerness, walls clamping down as she added her ring finger. She pulled her face away for a moment, pumping her fingers in and out with precision as her fingertips easily found purchase against the spongy flesh that caused her eyes to roll back in her skull. 

Y/n grinned, pressing her lips against the thigh that had rested over her shoulder. She would never be able to recover from this view that she was so rarely able to see; Abby’s head tilted back, eyes hooded and lips parted as she whimpered out soft praises, small breasts heaving with each breath and her nipples pebbled with arousal. There was something about having somebody so big and strong at her disposal that she simply couldn’t get enough of, knowing that in a simple movement, Abby could have her at her disposal before she could even protest, the idea that someone like Abby, who took such pride in her dominance, was willing to give it up just for her. 

Feeling the tell-tale fluttering of her inner walls, Y/n quickened the pace of her fingers and returned her mouth to its rightful place on her clit, sucking and licking so gently in comparison to the fast pace of her fingers. 

Abby came with a shout, hand forcing Y/n’s face impossibly closer to her core as she continued to pump her fingers, fucking her through the orgasm until she felt her walls slacken. She removed her fingers, and with one last kiss to her inner thigh, she pulled away. Abby moved her leg, reaching down and yanking her girlfriend up to slam their lips together, whimpering at the musky taste of her own cum. 

“God, I’m gonna marry you,” Abby murmured against her mouth, drawing soft giggles from both of them.

“Not if I marry you first.”

Abby rolled her eyes as she reached past Y/n, turning the water off and scooping her up in a single movement, “Everything’s gotta be a competition with you, huh?”

Y/n giggled, hooking her ankles at the base of Abby’s spine and wrapping her arms around her neck, “Well, not everything.”

“Yeah? So you’re not gonna try and fight me when I have my way with you?”

Y/n kissed her again, “As long as you don’t make me wait, I’m impatient.”

Abby tossed her on the mattress, completely unconcerned about the fact that she was still dripping wet from the shower. She crossed the room, opening the top drawer of the dresser and fishing around for a moment before she found her target. Y/n watched in awe as Abby skillfully slid the harness up her legs, tightening it just enough that it wouldn’t slip as she turned, revealing the thick blue dildo hanging from her pelvis. 

“Why don’t you just lay there and be a good girl for me, heh?”

When Y/n woke up the next morning, she was stiff, but who wouldn’t be after being bent in every imaginable position for over an hour? 

It was nearly twelve o’clock by the time her eyes finally cracked open, and she was disappointed, but not surprised, to find that she was alone in the bed. She was dressed in only one of Abby’s lacrosse sweatshirts, and tucked snugly into the blankets and a note set neatly on the pillow next to her own.

Went out to the slopes, be back soon. Love you.

Y/n sighed, tossing the note aside as she glanced around the room, noticing that Abby must have tidied up a bit before she left, everything that had been knocked over or thrown across the room in the early hours of the morning having been set neatly back in place. Y/n would have preferred to stay in bed a while longer, but her throbbing headache demanded that she go downstairs and consume as much coffee and aspirin as possible without needed medical attention (luckily for her, she has a sexy pre-med girlfriend on standby). 

After cleaning herself up some and tidying her hair (and cursing herself for not doing her entire hair routine while it was wet) and sliding a pair of sweatpants up her legs, she shuffled down the wooden staircase to face the few stragglers that stayed behind. 

In the kitchen, she found Nora, who seemed like she had just returned, still dressed in her snowpants as she stood at the kitchen counter stirring her coffee. The dark-haired girl turned her head at the sound of Y/n coming down the stairs, a grin appearing on her face at the sight of the sleepy girl. 

“Morning sunshine!” She chuckled, glancing over at the large grandfather clock quickly,  “You just won me ten bucks, gorgeous. Manny said you’d be out for the count until the afternoon.”

Y/n raised her eyebrows, shaking her head as she made her own cup of coffee and swallowed two tablets of aspirin. She took up one of the tall stools opposite Nora, quickly taking a mouthful of her drink. 

“You come back alone?” 

Nora shrugged, “Yeah, once Abby and Manny start making everything a competition I count myself out.” 

Y/n nodded her head, a knowing smile crossing her features. She, too, has fallen victim to the pissing contests between those two. 

“Was it just you three?”

She pursed her lips, slowly shaking her head, “No, uh, Owen joined kinda last minute. Hey, did Abby tell you anything about last night? Manny said they sort of went after it after we left, but he and Leah kinda made a run for it.”

“No, she didn’t,” Y/n frowned, “She seemed a little worked up when she came to bed, but she didn’t really say much.”

A smirk appeared on Nora’s lips, “Yeah, we all heard how worked up she was.”

The blood drained from Y/n’s face, realisation dawning on her face. She thought she had made some kind of effort to keep herself quiet the night before, but to be fair, she had been intoxicated and Abby had made her come three times with just her tongue before even thinking of putting the strap to work.

“Gotta say, I never pictured Abby being a little freaky, I never even would have imagined some of the shit she was saying to you. It had me blushing.”

Y/n buried her face in her hands, wincing at the burning temperature of her skin. Had they all heard it? She’d been so worried about imposing herself on this trip that she hadn’t even considered the consequences of any alone time that she and Abby would have together. She supposed it was bound to happen; The chalet wasn’t that big, and the vents connected every room together, and even knowing that every other person on the vacation had witnessed their very active and intense sex life, she couldn’t find it within herself to regret it at all. The light purple bruises on her neck were a testimony to the way her night ended, and with Owen around, she would proudly wear them. 

The front door swung open, the entire house immediately being filled with the energetic and boisterously loud voice of Manny, obviously still hyped up from his seemingly long session on the slopes. When his gaze fell on Y/n, he hurriedly glanced down at his watch, scowling as he read the time as 11:59, indicating that he had lost the bet. His disappointment was not long-lasting, however, grinning mischievously and wiggling his brows at her as Abby appeared behind her, arms resting on the counter on either side of her body and caging her in, skin cold to the touch through her thin long-sleeve shirt. 

“Jesus, Abigail,” He whistled, “What did you do to her? The poor girl looks like she got mugged.”

“Fuck off,” The blonde groaned, pressing a kiss to her girlfriend’s head and chuckling as Y/n raised her middle finger in his direction. 

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Manuel.” She hummed, leaning back against Abby’s chest. 

Manny seemed surprised at her bold response, turning to the taller girl with a smirk as he continued to tease them. 

“That’s enough Manny, I already gave her hell for interrupting my beauty sleep,” Nora added, taking a long sip from her mug.

“Please,” Abby rested her chin on the top of Y/n’s head, “I’ve lived with both of you before, I can’t even count how many times I had to sleep with earplugs in.”

Nora shrugged, “What goes around, comes around I suppose.”

Abby’s body stiffened when Owen appeared next to Manny, his blue eyes narrowing in on the pair across the counter. It didn’t surprise her in the least that Owen would be bothered by their late night activities; Abby had once disclosed to her early on in their sexual relationship that she had very little experience in anything beyond the basics. With Owen, things were quite vanilla, and there was little said and there was almost no experimentation, so it would make sense that he felt a bit dejected at the idea that the woman he was still so obviously in love with was now in a much healthier and more adventurous relationship with someone else. 

Abby squeezed Y/n’s shoulders, leaning down to whisper in her ear, “I think I’m gonna go up to the room for a bit, maybe watch a movie and take a nap, if you wanna join me.”

Y/n nodded immediately, excited at the idea of going back to bed, hopping off of the stool and letting Abby lead her upstairs by the hand. 

She curled up in the bed, constructing a nest of pillows and blankets on top of the comforter and tucking herself in under a lighter fleece blanket. Abby appeared out of the bathroom, now dressed in a pair of sweats and a tight-fitting t-shirt, her hair hanging loosely around her shoulders. She chuckled when she spotted the structure that had been erected on top of the bed. 

“What movie did you pick?” She asked, carefully climbing in next to her girlfriend and snuggling up against her.”

Y/n glanced up at her, “The Holiday. Thought it was fitting.”

A few minutes into the film, Y/n could hardly even hold her eyes open, rolling over to lay on her belly and nuzzle her face into the crook of Abby’s neck. She glanced up at her girlfriend, admiring the way that the flickering colours from the screen were being projected on her face, light catching on her features and causing her rosy cheeks to glow. Abby turned her head, staring down at her with a fond smile. 

“What?” She asked, fingers gracing Y/n’s cheek softly. 

“Just looking,” She mumbled, “You’re so pretty.”

Abby scoffed, “Says you.”

“Says me,” Y/n agreed, “If anyone else says that, I’ll kill them. Except for your grandmother.”

Abby laughed, “Yes, I would prefer if you didn’t kill Nana, thank you.”

Y/n pressed her lips to the underside of her jaw, “Is everything good between you and Owen?”

“You want everything to be good between us?” Abby raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged, “You know how I feel about Owen, but he’s your friend, and I don’t wanna be the cause of some drama between you if I can help it. Nora said you guys had a fight last night.”

Abby sighed, her arms tightening around her girlfriend’s figure, “I don’t like the way he talks about you. The thing is, when I broke up with him, I was honest with him and he seemed to be okay with it. But since you and I started dating, he seems to be bothered by it. Last night, he was drunk, and he said some pretty nasty stuff about us, mostly about me, honestly.”

“So what, he’s mad that you’ve moved on with someone else, or he’s mad that you’ve moved on with a girl?”

“Not sure,” Abby shook her head, “I don’t–I just wanna move past it. I don’t care what he thinks, and neither should you. If it comes down to you and him, I'm picking you every time.”

Y/n leaned up, nudging Abby’s curved nose with her own before pressing a sweet kiss to her lips, “I love you.”

Abby smiled, kissing her again, “I love you too.”

This time, when Y/n woke up, she was still curled tightly against Abby’s chest. She was thankful, smiling softly as she nuzzled closer to her warmth and simply just laid there contentedly until a loud banging sounded from their bedroom door. 

“Wake up, you lazy perras,” Manny shouted through the wooden door, “It’s time to party!”

Y/n had quickly come to realise over the few days at the chalet that Abby’s friends took New Year’s Eve very seriously. Her eyes had grown three sizes at the sight of the mountain of booze that they had all collected to share amongst the group on the one night. Each of them had expressed their excitement for the holiday, even Mel, who had hardly interacted with her the whole time they’d been there. 

It was torture to pull themselves out of the little nest they’d made, but they knew that Manny would be back in a matter of minutes if they weren’t out of bed soon, and he would be much less friendly the second time. Taking a few moments to wake themselves up, both girls finally crawled out of bed and began to get themselves ready for the evening, knowing that Leah, Nora, and Mel would be wanting to take and post pictures from the little party on any social media platform that they could get their hands on.

They were both offered drinks immediately upon entering the kitchen, discovering a large bowl of punch sitting in the middle of the large island, apparently having been a concoction made by Jordan and Manny, which became quite obvious once Y/n took a small drink and discovered that it was probably closer in form to a toxic chemical than any kind of enjoyable beverage, but for the sake of the holiday, she continued to take small sips of the drink, quickly followed up by a much more enjoyable Diet Coke.

They spent the evening playing drinking games, watching movies, and exposing each other’s most embarrassing moments until late in the evening, though Y/n decided to cap herself at the one drink, considering the night she’d had the night before, and instead accepted the edible offered to her by Nora, who had also been put off of liquor by the hangover she’d had that morning. 

Y/n could admit that the small get-together felt much more intimate and enjoyable to her than attending a larger party, as she likely would have done if Abby had not invited her. Even those who did not overly like Y/n seemed glad to have her there, except for Owen, of course. 

Even Mel had entertained some conversations with her and had invited her to jump into some pictures with her and the other girls, the alcohol making her much friendlier than usual. Y/n’s feelings towards Mel were never set in stone. From time to time, she was very nice to her, but the majority of the time, she seemed completely uninterested in her being there. Of course, Y/n could understand it, to a degree; If Abby acted the same way that Owen did when she was around, Y/n would feel the same way, and he apparently hadn’t started acting that way until Y/n came around. 

Y/n couldn’t help but keep a watchful eye on the two figures out on the deck, doing her best to not make it obvious, feeling the need to protect her girlfriend from any more hurt, especially after hearing what sort of things that Owen had said to her the night before. They’d only been out there for about ten minutes after Owen had asked her to talk in private, offering an overly sympathetic look to both Abby and her girlfriend, who’d been reluctant to let her go on her own, especially since he had been drinking quite heavily all evening.

In truth, Owen had immediately apologised for what he’d said the night before, shocking the blonde with his words. Normally, Owen was a proud man, never apologising to anyone unless he knows that it might offer him something in return. 

“Really,” He had cleared his throat, obviously hesitant and uncomfortable, “I’m really sorry. I wouldn’t intentionally do anything to hurt you, it’s just…You don’t know how hard it’s been.”

“Hard?” Abby repeated, “What’s been so hard for you, Owen?”

He scowled, “Seeing you happy, with someone else–with her.” 

She scoffed, “So it is about her. Tell me, if I was dating another man, would you have this issue?”

“Yes!” He looked appalled, “Seriously–how are you trying to turn this into that sorta thing. You know I’m not like that.”

“Do I?” She pressed, “How many times have I heard you use the f slur in passing, or couldn’t stop staring at two girls holding hands in public? You may not realise it all the time, but you are like that, and I can’t just sit back and let you treat someone I love like that.”

He paused, “You love her?”

She nodded.

“I just–I don’t get it. How can you be…you were never like that with me. We were happy, I thought you loved me.”

Abby stared at him incredulously, “I did. Part of me always will, and you know that, but I’m not sure I was ever in love with you.”

That seemed to set him off, “So I was just…what to you? A plaything? An experiment?”

“Owen,” she growled, “You’re the one who started dating someone else only a week after we broke up, and not just anyone, but Mel. The one person who you always told me not to worry about, that you two were just good friends. Now look at you two, you act like an old married couple.”

“I don’t love Mel.” He stated, like it was a blatantly obvious statement. “I love you.”

Abby laughed, pushing herself away from the railing harshly, “You’re drunk, Owen.”

He grabbed her arm, pulling her back into him before she could stomp away, forcing his lips onto hers in a fury of passion. His hand gripped the back of her head, holding her in place as she fought against him. Finally, she sank her teeth into his bottom lip, not relenting until she could taste the iron of his blood and he was forcing her away.

“Fuck!” He swore, reaching up to nurse his bleeding lip, though he was given very little time to recover as Y/n practically flew past Abby and swung her fist into his jaw. He stumbled backwards from the force, flood now running down his chin and neck, “You stupid bitch.”

Abby stepped between the two as he lunged at the shorter of the two girls, shoving him down onto the deck as the others came rushing out after Y/n. She scowled at him, crouching ever so slightly to meet his gaze, “Don’t you ever put your hands on her, or me, ever again.”

She turned to face her girlfriend, hands cradling her now swollen fist and running her thumb over the cracked and bleeding skin over the knuckles, “You okay?”

Y/n lifted her good hand up to swipe at the lip on Abby’s lower lip, tears leaking down her cheeks, “Are you?”

She nodded, pressing her bloody lips to Y/n’s forehead briefly, taking one final look at the man on the floor, who seemed to be in shock and finally realising what he had done, glancing between the two women standing over him, to his friends who all seemed nothing short of disgusted with him, and finally, his girlfriend, who could barely stand to offer him anything more than a fleeting glance. Abby shook her head. She never wanted this, she would have been more than content to keep Owen in her life as a friend, but there was very little that could recover him in her eyes, and she knew that he would never be able to accept her or the woman she loved. She hoped that, at some point in the future, he might come to his senses, but until then, she decided that he would no longer be regarded as one of her best friends, as he previously had been. 

She led her girlfriend back inside, grabbing an ice pack from the freezer before guiding her up the stairs and to their bedroom. Abby pushed her to sit on the edge of the mattress, lowering herself to kneel in front of her. She gingerly pressed the ice to her knuckles, shushing her when she whimpered at the sudden cold.

“I’m sorry,” Y/n whispered, “None of this would’ve happened if I didn’t come on this trip.”

“Stop apologising. It’s no one’s fault but his, for being a homophobic prick, and my own, for putting up with it for so long.”

It was quiet for a moment before a giggle escaped from Y/n’s lips, “I told you I would kick someone’s ass for you.”

“That’s really all you got out of this?” Abby laughed, her radiant smile breaking through her otherwise stony expression.

“That,” Y/n leaned down, “And that I love you.”

“I thought you already knew that.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “I did, but this was my proof that I wasn’t joking about it.”

She leaned down, hands cupping Abby’s defined jaw in her hands, holding her just as softly as one might hold a newborn as she pressed a kiss to her lips. When she pulled back, she glanced at the alarm clock on the dresser, smirking as she pressed another kiss to her lips and mumbled against her.

“Happy New Year, baby.”

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Can I have some dilf Jake & younger reader (ofc over 18 tho!!!! , maybe like 10 years difference idk )

maybe reader being jakes best friends daughter and them hooking up 😩🔫

also Jake being lowkey mean abt it 😏…

like yk “my slut” or “what would your dad say if he saw you like that - mouth stuffed with my cock” 🕴🏻

NO BECAUSE THE WAY I LOVE THIS IDEA OMGGGG

my vibrator's gonna run outta battery from all these spicy ass asks 🤭🤭😩😩😩😩

You had always had a crush on Jake Sully. He was old enough to be your dad—seeing how he was almost your dad's age and your dad's best friend. You just never thought it would turn into what it did.

You found yourself more often than not envisioning him fucking you. His naked body, all on display, his thick hands caressing your thighs, his being controlling yours.

Every day, every night—always, you were daydreaming of him. Daydreaming of what he would say, how he would feel inside you, how we would touch you...

You imagined being used by him, and the feeling was too much.

You couldn't even look at him without getting all flustered, your ears folding against your head, tail swishing anxiously, cunt growing moist.

And it was almost like he knew. He'd smirk at you, wink at you, give you little pats on the thigh, caress your lower back, smile at you. He'd call you girl, and sweet, and once or twice, baby. But, you assumed those were all signs of endearment. What else could they be?

You were torn between hell and heaven when your parents announced having to take a trip to one of the neighboring clans, something or another about old friends, acquaintances—whatever. You didn't care about that. You only cared about who they were leaving you with.

Jake.

“But, Father,” you'd complained, “I'm twenty! I can stay on my own.” It was a futile attempt at a) trying to hide the excitement coursing through your veins; and b) at hoping you wouldn't have to remain under Jake's care, in his home, for an entire week.

A whole week, just the two of you.

“It's not about whether or not you're old enough,” your father replied. “You're responsible enough, you know your mother and I trust you, but in case anything happens, it would be good to know Jake can be there to help.”

No matter what arguments you presented, your parents brushed them away. And that's how you found yourself, days later, living under Jake's roof.

It was awkward the first two days. You'd sort of try to avoid him, you would refuse to look into his eyes, and you'd be terrified of daydreaming. Every time you thought of sex with Jake, he would ask, “What's on your mind, sweet?” and he'd have this look in his eyes...this thick, heavy look that made you shudder.

Eventually, you settled down a little, growing more comfortable around him.

Really comfortable, actually.

On a particular morning, just as dawn washes over the land, you wake up, sweating and panting, from a dream—no, another dream where Jake fucked you, his mouth on yours, his hands all over your body, his cock buried deep, deep in your body.

Judging by the time, you assume Jake's already out hunting. Still dazed with sleep and lust filling your veins, you sneak a hand between your thighs, softly caressing your already-wet pussy.

You sigh softly as relief fills you.

Jake's gotta be gone already, you think to yourself, fingers circling your pulsing clit. There's no way he's still here. He always leads the morning hunts.

You remove your loincloth, bending your legs and spreading them, one hand focused on your clit as the other one pushes a finger into your aching entrance.

You mewl softly, hips rolling against your hands, and you close your eyes.

The dream had been so vivid, so fucking real...You can still feel Jake, as if everything had truly happened. You can feel his cock inside you, his mouth on yours, that stupid smirk plastered across his lips.

“Fuck,” you hiss out quietly, curling the finger inside you upwards, touching your g-spot while your other hand pinches your clit. “Oh, fuck.”

As your body starts bucking with the pleasure, you imagine it's Jake's hand, his fingers on your pussy, his voice calling you baby and girl and sweet.

You're flustered, cheeks bright with your blush, body quaking. Fuck, what you'd give for Jake to touch you, kiss you, fuck you. Fuck.

The vivid image of Jake's eyes, amber and predatory, always sharp and cunning, sends a sudden jolt of pleasure through you.

“Ah!” you cry, a little louder than you would've liked to, but the sound is already out, and followed by a whimper of, “Jake.”

Unbeknownst to you, Jake sleeps not far from you, only a bedroom away, and when he hears you gasp, he sits up, alarmed.

He'd asked Tsu'tey to take over his shift for him, deciding he'd stay here in case you needed anything. The sound of your voice sends fear through him at first.

Something's wrong, he thinks, rising off his bed, quickly walking towards your bedroom.

But as he approaches, hand out, ready to push the flap of your tent open, he hears you again.

“Fuck.”

And Jake knows that sound. He knows it's not terror, it's not pain, it's not a call for aid. It's pleasure.

As he quietly steps closer to your bedroom, a whiff of your scent reaches his nose, intoxicating and thick. Your arousal is strong, it makes his cock twitch, his pupils dilate.

Jake shakes his head, pushing his cock down in an attempt to brush off the arousal.

What's wrong with me? Listening to the poor thing touch herself in there...as if I had any right.

Still, he doesn't walk away. He's about to, though, when another of your gasps reaches his ears.

“Fuck! Jake.”

At this, he freezes, ears perking, entire body going rigid. His cock springs to attention, lust beginning to sear through his veins.

Last he'd checked, you didn't know any other Jake but him...could it be that you were touching yourself to him?

“Yes, fuck,” you whine lowly, the sound of your soaked pussy growing louder, squelching as you fuck yourself.

And goddamn, Jake can't help himself.

He carefully pushes the flap of your tent open, peeking in, only to find you, legs spread wide, pussy on display, your hands touching yourself. He licks over his lips, his cock aching, as your scent grows stronger. He rubs his hand over the erection poking through his loincloth, yearning to fuck you.

He watches you for a moment, studies the way you touch yourself, the way your back arches, the way you throw your head back. Your pretty eyes are shut tight, your limbs quivering, and you poor fucking thing, he can't not help you when you're clearly in so much distress.

“You know, sweet, if you woulda told me you wanted me, I would've just helped you already,” he says, stepping into your bedroom, allowing the flap of the tent to close behind him.

You jerk, opening your eyes, quickly seeing him standing before you and removing your hands from your cunt, sitting up.

“Jake,” you stutter, voice breathless, cheeks growing darker with your blush. “I-I thought you'd—”

“Left for morning hunt?” he finishes for you, smirking. “Tsu'tey's leading today, baby.” His eyes scan over your pussy, gaze turning dark. “And thank fuck he did, huh?”

Deeply embarrassed, you croak out, “'m sorry, I...I, uh...I was just...” You trail off, at a loss for words. What could you possibly say to mend this?

“Touching yourself to me?” he questions, approaching your cot, crawling onto it.

You divert your gaze from him and press your thighs together, hiding your pussy from him.

“Oh, don't try to be all innocent and sweet now, girl,” he says, scoffing. “Spread your legs. Let me see how bad you need it.”

You refuse to meet his eyes, just as you refuse to open your thighs. So, Jake uses his huge, rough hands to force your thighs apart. You close your eyes, ashamed, goosebumps prickling over your skin.

His eyes drink in the sight of your soaked pussy, puffy from your ministrations, your slick dripping onto the thin mattress below.

Jake clicks his tongue. “You poor thing,” he says. “You were close, huh? And I interrupted you?”

You don't reply, only offer a tiny nod before murmuring, “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” he echoes, as if confirming the notion, licking his lower lip. “Will you let me make up for that, sweet?”

At this, your eyes snap open, meeting his famished gaze. “How-how do you mean?”

Jake smirks. “I'd prefer to show you. Will you let me?”

You consider it for a second. The opportunity of a lifetime...you're not gonna just let it slip past you...right?

“But you—What about my father? My mother?” you ask, voice quivering, and Jake can hear you don't give a fuck about that. You're just trying to be the good girl you always are, always trying to follow the rules and meet the expectations.

“Forget about them,” he replies. “They're not here to stop us, hm?”

You stare into his eyes for one, two, three seconds before nodding. “Okay,” you say quietly. “Show me.”

Jake smirks, his cock fidgets under his loincloth, and he removes the item of clothing. Your eyes fall to his cock, pupils growing wide at the sight.

Overcome with lust, you rise to your knees, asking, “Can-can I touch it?”

Jake groans at the request, throwing his head back. “Fuck,” he gasps. “'f course you can, sweet. You see how hard it is? It's for you, baby.”

You shyly reach for him, hand a little unsure as it wraps around his cock. The moment you touch him, Jake grunts softly, and you jerk him slowly, gently, glancing up at his face as he stares down at you.

Your big doe eyes find his predatory gaze. His lips are parted, little breaths leaving his mouth as you inch yourself closer. You place a kiss on the tip and Jake hisses. He wants to push you on your back and just fuck you, but he doesn't want to scare you off.

You lick his underside experimentally, keeping your eyes on his cock, and he watches, enthralled, as you play with him. The look of curiosity and amazement across your face makes him harder, precum dripping from his thick head.

You glance back up at him and timidly question, “You'll put it inside?”

Jake smiles at you, a cocky, seductive smile. “Inside that pretty pussy, if you'll let me,” he replies.

You nod slowly, understanding, before lying yourself on your back and spreading your legs. “I want you to.”

And Jake swears he's dead, he swears he's done for, swears his entire being is about to go haywire.

He remains kneeling on the bed, grabbing your hips in his large hands and pulling them up so your ass rests on his thighs. Your eyes are wide, excited, heart beating out of your chest.

“Watch,” he orders as he positions his cock against your entrance and then pushes into you, slowly, carefully.

Your eyes flutter a little as he enters you, but you don't gaze away from where your bodies meet. When the thick head meets your cervix, you gasp softly, body jerking, and Jake groans.

This is so much better than dreaming, you decide, clenching around him, making him grunt.

“So fuckin' tight,” he gasps, starting out with slow thrusts to see how you'll take it, and then increasing his speed, his eyes locking onto your breasts as they bounce with his pounds.

“Fuck!” you gasp, hands digging into the mattress below, legs shaking. You can't believe how deep inside you he is, how he stretches you out. It's so much better than your hands. So, so much better.

“Look at you,” Jake says, moving his gaze to where your pussy swallows his cock whole. “Takin' me so well, sweet. Is it good?”

“'s so good!” you reply, moaning, eyes rolling into the back of your head. You didn't think it could be this fucking amazing. “So good.”

Jake chuckles softly, watching you, and he figures he might as well force a confession from your lips while he's at it.

“Was this the first time you touched yourself to me?” he questions, one of his hands moving to your clit and drawing circles on it.

“N-no,” you reply, gasping and shaking.

“No?” Jake repeats, amused. “How many times have you done it?”

“Every-every—” You gasp, back arching, as he pinches your clit. “Ev'ry night.”

“Every night, huh?” he says, smirking. “And why didn't you ever tell me?”

“'cause you-you're dad's best friend,” you reply, whining as he angles his hips upwards, allowing his cock to press against your g-spot with every thrust.

“Ah, I see,” he chuckles. “You were afraid of your dad finding out, hm? Afraid he'd see how much of a slut you are for me?”

That makes you clench around Jake, and he groans, biting his lower lip. “'m a slut,” you echo, nodding. “A slut.”

“No,” Jake says, thrusting into your harder, deeper. “You're my slut.”

At this, you cry out, pussy dripping. “Your slut,” you agree, nodding. “'m your slut, Jake.”

“Yeah, you fuckin' are, aren't ya?” He smirks, his eyes watching your stuffed cunt. “Jesus, kid, what would your dad say if he saw you like this, hm? With your cunt full of my cock?”

“Ah!” you moan, the mere reminder of how wrong, how off limits Jake's supposed to be making you more aroused. The idea of breaking the rules for Jake makes your pussy throb, your legs quake.

“I'm not gonna lie to you, darlin',” he says, groaning. “I've jacked off to you every now and then, too. You and those pretty eyes, and those perfect tits, and that sweet ass. Goddamn. It's fucking impossible for me not to be hard around you.”

You mewl, eyes rolling into the back of your head, as you try to meet Jake's thrusts with the desperate bucking of your hips.

“Fuck, this is fuckin' amazing,” he grunts. “You have any idea how much I've wanted for you to suck my cock? How many times I've wanted to eat your pussy? How many times I've wanted to fuck you for hours until you're crying and begging me to stop?”

You whimper, entire body clad in a thin layer of sweat, your cunt fluttering around Jake's cock.

“One of these days, girl, imma make you squirt, yeah? You want me t'teach you that neat trick?”

You nod. “Please! Teach me whatever you want! Yes!”

Jake can feel your body tensing, your pussy growing tighter around him. “You gonna come for me, baby? Gonna coat my cock with your cum?”

“Mhmm!” you reply, whining, mind too lost in pleasure to formulate words.

Jake increases his speed, his hips ramming into yours, fingers pinching your clit, making you jerk and squeal in delight.

“Come for me, girl,” he encourages, his voice thick and rough with his approaching orgasm. “Come all over my cock so I can fill your pussy with my load, yeah?”

“Mhmm!” you repeat, nodding desperately, body thrashing wildly as Jake pounds you.

The pleasure becomes a harsh wave that crashes against the walls of your womb, threatening to fill you to the brim and then some more. You mewl, back arching, your eyes shut tight and your mouth open. You're gasping, shaking, cunt clenching around Jake with so much force, he drags against your insides almost painfully.

And then your orgasm claws its way out of you, breaking free, making your body shudder as you cry, “Jake! Jake!”

“I know, girl,” Jake replies, his own orgasm so near. “I know.”

As you begin recovering from your high, your pussy softens around Jake and he pounds into you, making you squeal and gasp, before he finally comes, spilling into you. His cum is hot and thick, sticky as it fills your cunt, dribbling out from how full you are.

Jake hasn't pulled out of you yet when he says, “When your parents come back, don't get nervous 'bout anything, kid. If they ask what we did, you just say you had a little bonding session with your dad's best friend.”

-----

Blog masterlist

@yagirlheree @kamcrazy123

[god-has-entered-my-body]

Facedown - Matty Healy

A/N: I don't shag men irl, so soz if there are any inaccuracies regarding the ins and outs of anal xx thank you to my mates @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff, @man-im-so-high and @awellposhmagazine for indulging in my stupid questions and mental breakdowns in the GC❤️

wc: 7k

content warnings: smut, fluff, dirty talk, pegging, praise, also a bit of degradation depending on how you look at it, use of sex toys (strap), mentions of lingerie/matty in womens clothing, sex shops, spit, masochism, cursing, polaroids/cameras, so picture kink?, girlie immortalizes him in a picture let it be poetic

“I want you to fuck me.” 

You choke on air. Matty is a blunt person, always has been, never really caring for beating around the bush. You didn't mind it, but you feel like he could’ve worded that a bit more eloquently. He’s laying on top of you, hair tickling the bottom of your chin, curls obstructing a bit of your vision. 

“Okay, fucking hold up, what?” you're convinced you've misheard him. Even he wouldn't be that blunt. He takes a deep breath, his tone slow and condescending

“I said, I want you to fu-” you hit him, giggling in disbelief. He jumps back in surprise, a grin spreading onto his face. He was actually serious.  

“I fucking heard what you said, jesus.” Matty has this look in his eye when he’s about to do something he knows you won't like, this glimmer in his eye, and you see it so clearly. His hand grabs your face, licking across your cheek, starting from the edge of your jaw. You squirm away, wiping your skin with your hand, throwing curses at him. 

“Fuck's sake, you're like a dog. Behave and I'll give you a treat, christ.” 

“Depends on what the treat is.” he winks at you, grinning widely as you screw your eyes shut in annoyance. He just wouldn't let up, like it would kill him to be PG for even five seconds. 

“So?” he asks, referring to his original statement.

‘I want you to fuck me.’ 

His words echo through your head, making all sorts of images flash in front of your eyes. Of course he notices, trailing his fingers up your bare arm, making goosebumps kiss your skin in his wake.

It's hard to even think straight, the suddenness of the question making your head spin. The two of you had never talked about it before, thinking it wasn't even on the table. 

“Are you- are you sure?” you stutter out, a small part of you scared he was joking, trying to see how you would react. His answer makes you sigh in relief.  

“Never been more sure.'' He's smiling, a genuine, reassuring smile. 

“Actually?” 

“No, I meant metaphysically, philosophically-” he deadpans, but it takes only a few seconds for him to crack up laughing, burying his face into your chest, trying to stifle his giggles. 

You breathe out, weaving a gentle hand through his hair, guiding him up to kiss you, lips locking as he gasps softly. You stay like that for a while, kissing and holding each other, neither wanting to let go. 

“You're mental.” you mumble when he pulls away, brushing a small strand of hair out of your eyes, sweetly tucking it behind your ear. 

“Yet, you love me.” It's so perfect. His body is warm against yours, acting as a sort of weighted blanket, pressing you into the sofa. The scent of his perfume is strong, tinged with a hint of the spliff you’d both smoked earlier.

—-------------------------------------------------------------

You can tell he’s never been in an actual sex shop by the was his eyes widen when you enter, flicking between the multitude of displays and posters, having no idea where or what to look at. His hand grasps yours, one goal in mind as you both step inside, heading towards a specific aisle. Strap-ons. 

Even if it was his first visit, he seems immediately at home, casually browsing through strap-ons and vibrators like he was in a department store, looking at lampshades or containers. At some point, you manage to break away from him, finding yourself in the lingerie section, lace and silk and satin surrounding you on all sides. Your fingers graze over a specific pair of green lace panties, the material soft to the touch. 

Your mind goes back to that night, to the memory of Matty, on your bed, shirtless and panting, the only thing concealing him a pair of lacey black womens underwear. You wonder if he’d be into it, buying more stuff like that, or if he maybe had more back home, hidden in a secret corner of his drawer. 

You're snapped back into reality by a repetitive tap on your shoulder, turning around to see it was Matty. He was holding something in his hand; a light purple, see through strap, decorated with specks of glitter and incredibly detailed. You blush at the sight, before remembering where you actually were. It looked big in his hands, intimidating almost. 

“This one’s pink and glittery! Fucking awesome, who knew they had so many types?” he booms, holding it up right in front of your face. A few people turn, but most ignore his loud proclamation, going back to their own shopping. 

“You're so girly, Jesus christ.” you snigger, stifling a crude laugh. It was so Matty, always one to pick the most extravagant, out of the ordinary, even when it came to sex toys.  

“Don’t make me fucking start-” he threatens, and you promptly cover his mouth with your palm, staring deep into his eyes. 

“Shut it.” and to your surprise, he did. 

He goes back to the isle he came from, looking for more options. You’d expected it to be more uncomfortable, but you felt light, like anything was on the table. Seeing him move out of your sight, you turn back to the fabric you’d been admiring earlier, running your fingers over it, and out of the corner of your eye, something shiny catches your attention. Garters. 

Your core stirs at the thought of Matty in garters, maybe even stockings or heels. You wonder if he’d even be into it, or if that was where his adventures in femininity ended. Lost in your fantasies, you don't even realize you’d picked something up. A black garter, little heart details making it sparkle in the low light of the shop, leather and metal cool against your skin. 

“Oh?” you hear a teasing voice say from behind, making you jump slightly. Clutching the object between your fingers, you spin around, eyes meeting Matty’s, and he has this filthy grin on his face, knowing he’s caught you.

“What's this?” he takes it from your hand, looking at it closely. His eyes light up when he realizes what it is, or more, who it's for. Matty’s ego inflates as he dangled in front of you, relishing in your flustered reaction, a blush creeping onto your face. 

“Is this meant for me?” he asks, pressing it onto his thigh over his jeans, trying to figure out how it would look. He moves to the mirror located off to the side to get a better look, admiring himself in the mirror.

“You don't have to- it's just an idea.” you say defensively, scared he’ll find it weird or odd or-

“It's a wonderful one. Do tell me more, darling.” his hand trails up your arm, landing on your shoulder. You don't have time to react as he pulls you in for a kiss, short and hot. A suggestion.

You stare at him for a few moments, not sure how to react. 

“What else do you want to see me in? This, perhaps?” he struts over to the lingerie section, picking up a pair of silk panties, showing them to you. You nod your head, earning a sly grin and a wink from Matty as he puts them into his little basket.

“Or are you more of a lace kinda gal?” There's a hint of tease in his voice as he holds up another pair. The green pair. 

Your breath hitches as he stares at you, looking for a reaction, smiling victoriously when he sees it. Raising his eyebrows, he wordlessly adds them to the growing pile of merchandise he’s accumulated in the short span he’d been wandering around the store. 

“Fucking hell.” you mutter under your breath as he grabs your hand, dragging you over to the garters. It all seems unreal, the way he confidently shows off the pieces over his clothes, ‘modeling’ for you in front of other shoppers, utterly shameless. 

“I'll wear it for you, you just have to tell me what you want.” he parrots your words back at you. ‘Just tell me what you want, Matthew’

If only he knew. 

“You look pretty in everything Matty, I'd rather you pick.”

“And I'd rather you be turned on, hm? C’mon, tell me, I don't bite.” you giggle a bit at his choice of words, the marks on your neck contradicting his statement. 

“You like it when I'm pretty for you?” he whispers into your ear, the words going straight to your core. Your knees feel weak, ready to buckle at any moment if he keeps talking like that.

Nodding frantically, you press a small kiss to his lips, taking his hand. You lead him to the shoes, heels and boots of all heights and colors stacked neatly in piles against a wall.

“Oh, I'm liking this turn of events.” he grins, hands reaching out to touch a specific pair of black platforms, adorned with small gemstones along the strap. You had a similar pair, knowing just how hard they were here to walk in. 

“You are?” you question, feeling his free hand wrap around your waist, bringing the shoes up for you to touch, the leather rough under your fingertips.

“You turn me on so much it fucking hurts. I love being your little fantasy, all dolled up for you.” he speaks slowly, quiet enough so that only you can hear. You cough, almost choking on air as he adds the shoes to the basket, walking off as though nothing happened. 

“This one?” he asks, holding up another toy. A pale pink strap-on, less glittery than the last one, but still incredibly eye-catching. You eye him up and down, the way he stood like he was holding the most normal thing ever appalling you. 

“You sure?” he nods enthusiastically, eyes silently begging you to say yes. “Imagine how pretty i’d look, imagine the pictures-” 

Oh, he loved to tease you about those, your collection of filthy polaroids growing larger and larger the longer you were together, stashed at the bottom of your nightstand. 

“Sure you can take it?'' The expression on his face is priceless as you fight fire with fire, his grin vanishing, being replaced with an embarrassed blush dusting his face. 

He wordlessly adds it, walking off in the direction of the till. You follow closely, watching him take a bottle of lube (strawberry flavored, because it's Matty) from the shelf, placing it in the basket.

It was all so new, uncharted territory for both of you. Sure, he teased and you teased back, throwing witty retorts at each other until one eventually gave up, but you were both equally nervous and excited, the idea absolutely thrilling. 

The bus ride back home is slightly awkward, the bags in your hands adorning the very obvious logo of the sex shop you’d just been in, earning judging glances from strangers. Matty remains unbothered, engrossed in an old edition of vogue he’d bought at check out. You watch him leaf through the pages, inspecting outfits and designs, muttering when he doesn't agree with them. It was endearing, watching him critique world famous fashion designers, like his opinion would hold and weight in a proper argument. 

200 quid was what the trip had cost you, spending way more than you had planned. Matty had paid for it with his parents' money that they sent to him every so often, wanting him to be able to live comfortably even if they were away. You felt sort of bad, offering to use your own cash, quickly being swatted away by an insistent Matty.

“I have to pay, seeing as I am a gentleman. Besides, you're going to be taking great care of me later, so-” you manage to cut him off with a stealth elbow in the ribs, sparing the poor cashier from one of his terribly inappropriate rants. 

—----------------------------------------------------

Home is comfortable, much unlike the harsh summer weather and the beating sun that waited for you outside. Unlocking the door, you've met with the soft hum of the air conditioner, the cool air kissing your skin. Matty lets out a relieved sigh as he finally sets down the bags, stretching his arms over his head. You catch a glimpse of his lower stomach, a small trail of hair traveling from his belly button and into the waistband of his pants, which were hung obscenely low on his hips. 

“Do you want to-” you're cut off by Matty’s lips on yours, one hand gripping onto the base of your neck, the other pulling you in by the waist. Despite being almost three inches taller, you manage to overpower him quickly, pressing him into the wall behind him. He gasps against your lips, his fingers digging into your hips as you grasp him by the hair, tugging him down to meet you. 

“Desperate, much?” you say condescending, one of your fingers trailing down the hollow of his throat, grazing the skin enough to leave a faint red mark. 

He loved seeing the aftermath of you on his body, and you’ve caught him admiring himself in the mirror more than once, running his fingertips over the bruises and scratches, reliving the moments that caused them. It's not like he left you bare, either, the complete opposite, actually. Your neck was full of hickeys in various colors, some more faded than others. 

He loved using his teeth, and had once left an incredibly obvious bite mark on the skin just above your collarbone, getting disgusted and borderline traumatized looks from both Ross and George. Adam never did mention i, but you caught him stealing glances at both of you, his tell tale ‘what the actual fuck did you do’ look on his face. 

“You’re one to talk, don’t think I didnt see how you looked at me back there.” he smirks against your lips, tongue swiping along your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth. You use your body weight to hold him up against the wall, pressing a knee right between his legs, a move he loved to use on you, and watching you grind against him is his favorite sight in the whole world.

His hips buck against your lower half, his hard-on brushing up against your thigh. He groans at the slight friction, repeating the action until you stop him.  

“Please, fuck- please.” he breathes, eyeing the bag on the ground behind you with a look of pure lust on his face.

Your knees feel weak, your stomach flipping as he reaches out to touch your face, trailing his fingers down your jaw and onto your neck, lovingly pressing kisses all over your skin, almost as if to try and convince you of something.

Wordlessly, you grab him by the collar of his shirt, leading him down the long hallway and up the stairs, almost tripping. You near the bedroom, unable to take your hands off each other as he pathetically whimpers into your mouth, nails clawing at your back.

The door swings open and you push him forward until the back of his knees hit the bed, making him fall onto it. 

“Been thinking ‘bout this for a while, haven't you?” he nods slowly, chest heaving from the sheer force of your kiss, leaving him breathless.  

“You can’t imagine.” he answers, eyes looking up at you from his spot on the bed, wide and full of want. 

“So pretty.” you whisper to yourself, reaching down to push his shirt up, revealing that little bit of hair on his stomach, so incredibly sexy it made your head spin. 

“Take your shirt off for me, I'll be back.” you kiss him again, softly this time, not even looking at his reaction before turning around and disappearing through the door. Your legs carry you as fast as they can go, taking two steps at a time as you race downstairs, eyes settling on the hot pink paper bag left abandoned on the floor. 

Rifling through the pile of various clothes, underwear, gags, toys; really anything you could think of, your breath hitches as your fingers brush against cold resin. Of course it was made of resin, ridiculously expensive as well, typical Matty. You laugh to yourself, taking a close look at the toy in your hands.

It was pale pink, hyper realistic veins running down the sides of it, the actual strappy part a deep purple, almost black. Your heart thrums against your ribcage, almost forgetting one vital thing: the lube. 

The sight before you open the door again is one that should be chiseled into stone and hung up for thousands of years. Matty is on the bed, further up so that his head is resting on the metal bed frame up against the wall, it being more comfortable that way. His shirt is off, just like you had told him. 

One thing made you freeze. His hand was covering his lower half, palming his obvious hard on through his insanely tight jeans. It looked painful, well hidden by the filthy smirk that tugged at the corners of his lips, making your heart skip a beat. 

“Kept me waiting.'' His voice is low, raspy, and desperate, even if he tries to play it off. You move without thinking, watching his eyes flicker over to the toy in your hand, which you place onto the bed out of his reach. 

“Not my fault you can't go five seconds without touching yourself.” you shoot back, kneeling onto the soft mattress. 

“Sort of is, isn't it?” he sounds playful, almost giddy as you catch his lips in a kiss. 

“You were begging so nicely before, what happened?” you fake pout at him, putting on a slightly condescending tone as he rolls his eyes at you. 

“I caught my breath.” he says, hands settling on your hips as you straddle him properly, his aching cock grinding against the curve of your ass. It feels amazing, your ego swelling as you take him in, needy and wanting for you and you only. 

“Yeah?” 

“Might have to take it again.” 

You get what he’s playing at immediately, reaching up to wrap your hand around his throat. Matty lets out a choked gasp, eyes widening at the sensation. 

“Fuck-” he’s cut off by you pressing down harder, watching all the blood in his head rush down south. 

“What? Couldn't quite hear you, speak up.” you taunt, loving watching him struggle to answer you, all that came out being needy gasps and curses.

“Please-” his breath hitches when you reach down to skillfully unbutton his pants with one hand, silently thanking the gods above he had decided to forgo a belt today, peeling the jeans off of him. He lets out a choked moan as you grip him through his boxers, wishing he had worn a pair of women’s panties, knowing it would rile you up even more.  

 “What? Use your words, Matthew, tell me what you want.” you tease, ignoring his silent begging, only slightly letting go of his throat, scared he wasn't properly getting oxygen. 

“Touch me, please.” he manages to force out, tears of relief welling up in his eyes when you take him out of his boxers, stroking his cock lightly. 

“This all for me? All because of that toy? Filthy, filthy boy.” his mind blanks, ecstacy overtaking his body and mind, the only thing he could think of was how fucking lucky he was. The strap is only visible in the corner of your eye as you kiss him hard, slipping your tongue into his mouth, drinking in every little gasp. 

You dig your thumb into his slit, his hips arching off the bed and into your hand, spurts of precum leaking out of his tip. You smile at his reaction, one question still running through your mind. This was all so new, and you were riffing off of what you already knew he liked, trying to build up as much tension as possible. 

“Have you done this before?” he takes a second to answer, slowly nodding his head. You motion for him to elaborate. A pang of insecurity rushes through you at the thought of him doing this with someone else, another person seeing him like this. You push it all down, turning your full attention to Matty. 

“Only alone, trying some things out..” his voice is uncharacteristically small, eyes avoiding you as he stutters over the second part of his sentence, clearly a bit embarrassed. 

“Oh yeah? Did it feel good?” you encourage him, desperate to make him feel as comfortable as possible. He smirks, and you can basically see the memories flash behind his eyes. 

Alone, late at night. Curiosity striking, clothes hitting the floor of his old bedroom. A mess of lube and spit, fingers experimentally curling upwards and finally, finally hitting that perfect spot deep inside of him, making him moan into his pillow, trying to muffle the sound. 

But of course, Matty has to do and say something so utterly stupid, it makes your eyes hurt from rolling them. 

“It’ll feel so much better if you do it for me, darling. Treat me right and all, seeing as I am your girl-” you playfully hit his arm, effectively shutting him up. He wasn't fully wrong, but the way he worded it was purposefully supposed to make you cringe, your eyes screwing shut and hands going to cover your face in embarrassment. 

“Shut up, what is your damage?” you ask, glaring at him as he tries his best to stifle his giggles. It's infectious, and soon you start laughing as well, falling into his arms, losing it at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Can you take nothing seriously?” It's a rhetorical question, but he still answers.

 “Nothing.” he drags out the word, mocking you.

You take this opportunity to tug at his cock, wiping the smug grin directly from his face. It was satisfying, watching him go from cocky and borderline bratty, to a sweet, moldable putty in the palm of your hand, willing to do whatever you asked of him.

 “A-ah oh fuck, i’m not gonna- stop.” he gasps, trying to push you off. You fight back, pinning him down using your entire body, your fingertips ghosting over his cock. 

“Gotta get you ready to take me, don't want it to hurt, do you?” your voice drips with lust, relishing in the wanton sounds he lets out at your words. Matty looks at you, mouth slightly ajar as if trying to say something. You nod at him. 

“I can- I can show you. If you want. We both know how much you like to watch me.” he gestures to the camera sitting on the nightstand, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Go on.” you whisper, your voice cracking. 

He flips around, and you use this little bit of time to slip your own clothes off, leaving your shirt and panties on, settling onto the bed behind him.

His hands reach for the bottle of lube, blindly feeling around for it. You hand it to him with a sickly sweet smile, making his stomach flip as he spreads his legs, a performative moan leaving his lips as he uncaps it with his teeth, pouring the liquid onto his fingers.   

It's weird, seeing him in this position, facedown against the mattress, tugging his boxers down with his clean hand. He can feel your eyes on him, raking over his milky skin, watching him take a deep breath as the cool lube hits his skin. 

“You look pretty.” you hear him snigger into the pillow at the breathlessness of your voice.  “Right? Good genes, innit?” he says smugly, craning his head around to get a look at your annoyed expression.

“Oh fuck off.” you smack him on the arse, taking the piss out of his stupid comments. 

He gasps, and now it's your turn to be smug, grazing your nails over the skin you’d just hit 

“Seriously? That turned you on?” he nods, tracing his lube covered fingers over his hole, shivering a bit before pushing one in. 

A string of moans and curses spill from lips, panting as his back arches at the intrusion. You watch him with wide eyes, taking every minuscule twitch of his body as he curls them slightly, going even deeper. You commit everything to memory, wanting this moment to last forever, and you reach out to trail your hands down his sides, digging your slightly grown out nails into his hips, making him moan into the pillows.  

“Giving me a proper show then. Anything to get my attention, right?” you mumble, leaning over him as he fingers himself for you, groaning and twitching against the mattress, overcome with pleasure.

“It’s working isn't it?” he forces out, the feeling of your chest pressed to his back making his eyes roll back in his head, his tip leaking spurts of precum onto the sheets  

“Fuck, yeah, its working.” 

His fingers brush up against a certain spot inside of him and he quite literally shakes, arching and pushing down onto his digits, his body begging for more. You watch, entranced in every movement he makes, in a sort of daze. 

You could sense him gaining back a sense of confidence when he peers back at you, seeing your blissed out expression at the sight of him fucking himself open for you, moans and whimpers going straight to the growing heat in your core.

“Wanna fuck me? Make me moan for you?” he teases, moving his lube covered hand to his cock, tugging at himself as you pull him closer. The strap next to you burns a hole into your brain, and you reach for it, hand gliding over the resin. 

“Wanna take a pretty picture with that little camera of yours?” That was the final straw that made you scramble up, fumbling with the fastens of the toy, unbuckling them and slipping it over your underwear, the weight of it a bit strange. 

 “I’m going to make you eat those words.” you threaten, one of your hands threading through his hair, pulling his face up before dropping it back onto the pillows. He whimpers at the sharp pain radiating from his scalp, spreading all the way to his fingertips that clutch the sheets so tightly, his knuckles look pale white. 

“It's what I'm counting on, darling.” he winks, arching his back towards you, grinding his arse against your strap. This was really happening. Sucking in a deep breath, you steady yourself on your knees, taking the toy into your hand, circling his hole with it. A sigh of pleasure leaves his parted lips as he relaxes into the bed, arse up and face buried into the dark blue fabric of his pillow. 

The sound of the lube covering the strap is a bit awkward, and you both laugh lightheartedly, nervous and excited to do this with each other, to each other. He groans as you finally line up with his entrance, the tip teasing him as he bucks back onto it.  

“Want me to go slow?” you ask, slightly nervous, scared of doing something wrong or god forbid, hurting him in any way. 

“Fuck me slow, yeah?” His words drip with lust, raspy and deliberately drawn out. He notices your hesitation, and his hand reaches back to grab yours, rubbing reassuring circles into the skin of your palm.  

“Jesus, you make it sound so filthy.” His vulgar words were nothing new, his cocky manner only another tool to get you to lose it on him, never showing mercy. Just like he liked it. Rough, hard, fast, never ending pleasure until both of you were fully satisfied. 

“Stop being a tease and just fuck me.” he was now at the point of making demands, blatantly ignoring the imbalance of power between you. You tut at him, nails digging into the fat of his arse, making him wince in pain.

“Not in a place to be demanding things from me, are you now?” your tone is deliciously condescending, making his cock involuntarily twitch under him, begging for attention. 

“You want it just as much as me.” he breathes loudly, a feeble attempt at trying not to sound as desperate as he really was, not wanting to admit defeat. 

“Make me mess, fuck me dumb, I know you want to.” an animalistic groan rips itself from your throat as you push into him, feeling the smallest bit of resistance at first. 

Remembering his little reaction from earlier, you experimentally smack the side of his arse, right where its curve meets the top of his thigh, and he shudders beneath you, crying out in pleasure. You don't know what you're doing, but you do gain a flicker of confidence when he grinds down against the bed, mumbling into the pillow. Asking him to speak up, his face is now visible as he moans, hips pushing back onto the toy as you pull back out, leaving him feeling empty.

You snap your hips forward, a bit harsher this time, watching and listening for his reaction, wanting to make it feel as good as possible for him. He was trusting you with the most intimate part of him, giving up almost all control as his arms go slack under him, nothing holding his body up anymore. 

“Fuckk, that's so good.” he breathes as you set a delicate but even rhythm, speeding up a bit with every thrust as he slowly gets used to the sensation. It takes a few minutes of fucking him at an agonizing pace until you feel his whole body tense up, a choked moan spilling from his parted, spit covered lips. Your breath hitches at the sight of him drooling, eyes screwed shut in pure bliss. 

“OH FUCKK- right there right there right there jesus christ, fuck-” he curses, clawing around him, trying to find something to bring him back down to reality as your strap brushes up against his G-spot. There's a wet patch on the bed under him, precum covering the blue fabric of the sheets. 

“Sound so pretty, all for me.” you hit that same spot over and over as he pathetically cries out your name, begging for you to go faster. 

“Please, it's so good, so good, fuck me please oh FUCK.” you oblige, gripping onto his hips as you slam back into him, his back arching sharply as you pant, your cheeks a bright red. Your whole body is flushes crimson, your cunt clenching around nothing as you get off to the sounds and movements he makes, your witty words getting caught in the back of your throat

You're so incredibly turned on that everything else disappears around you, your only focus being a desperate Matty under you, writhing in pleasure as he experiences actual heaven, his whole body covered in a thin layer of sweat, making him glow in the dim light of the bedroom.

Sinful sounds fills the bedroom, reverberating off the walls making you feel dizzy, partially from the effort and partially from the boy in your bed, whimpering your name betweens strings of curses, begging you to just fuck him harder. 

Matty, though he hates it, is awfully predictable. He has cues that let you know when he’s close, his voice pitching up several octaves as you slam into him, never faltering. 

You take the opportunity to press your chest against the curve of his back, hard nipples rubbing against his skin through your thin shirt. Your voice is low, whispering lewd promises against his ear, occasionally nibbling at the skin, sucking a hickey into it. 

“Gonna cum for me? I can see you leaking all over the sheets, dirty boy” he cries at your words, tears of overwhelming pleasure streaming down his face, leaving small stains on the pillow. 

“Yesyesyes please don’t stop- so close.” he begs, every part of his body twitching and tensing, so close to the edge he could taste it. 

You don't know what possesses you. Maybe it was his comment from earlier, his tone playful and teasing, eyes dark with desire. 

“Wanna take a pretty picture with that little camera of yours?”

It's like a foreign force taking over your body. You still, ignoring Matty’s pleas for you to keep going, his hips bucking wildly onto the toy still deep inside of him.

“No- nonono please, i was so close, fuck.” you click your tongue at him, effectively shutting him up

He winces when you move, hand reaching for something on the nightstand, not even realizing what you were doing. The plastic is heavy in your hands, black lense staring back at you as you reposition yourself behind Matty, the tip of your strap teasing his hole.

He thinks you’ll continue as normal, that you'll give him what he’s been craving this entire time. All he wants to do is cum, mind so clouded with desire that he could barely speak properly

Your hands threads into his hair, his neck limp as you pull him up by it. Your fingers find the shutter, knowing you had to act fast to get the result you so desperately wanted.

Pulling his head further back so his whole face was visible, you position the camera in front of it, the sight of the lense making Matty’s heart skip a beat. 

Right as you take the picture, you violently snap your hips forward, thrusting into him at a brutal pace, making his face contort in ecstasy, mouth falling open, revealing a pink tongue between his lips.

The camera flash is disorienting for him, the shutter barely heard over his impossibly loud moans, the sounds making you feel weightless.

He lets out a high laugh as he fully gets what you’d just done, only proving his earlier point further. His little victory is interrupted by his impending orgasm, the combination of the pressure from your strap on his G-spot and the delicious friction of the sheets rubbing against his cock sending him into a lust driven frenzy. 

His moans are high pitched, almost feminine as he buries his face into his slack arms, trying to bite back his noises. You tell him to quit it, demanding to hear every single cry that leaves his lips.

“You’re such a brat, acting like I cant have you fucking purring under me in the blink of an eye.” you speak, an intense feeling of power and control taking your body as you slam into him, licking up the skin of his bare neck, making him shudder under your touch. 

“I promise i’ll be good- just please let me cum.” he’s a blubbering mess, tears rolling down his cheeks as you tug harshly on his hair, the pain only making it harder for him to hold off his orgasm.

“Please- I need it so bad- fuck, please.” 

“Oh, you need it, do you?” you taunt him, your fingers moving to shove their way into his mouth, pressing down on his wet, hot tongue. The whimper he lets out as you gag him makes your brain short circuit, your eyes are fixed on the way he grinds his hips to meet your frantic thrusts, desperate to get himself off.

“Go on then, cum all over our nice sheets. Make everything dirty, just like you are, aren't you darling?” the filthy words spill from your lips before you could even think, and Matty stills for a second before moaning around your fingers, bucking against the mattress. 

“So good, so fucking good- oh my god, fuck, feels so good-” his words are muffled by your fingers, and as much as you need to hear him, you let it slide, wanting your perfect boy to finally come undone. He cums with a scream, an actual, guttural scream of your name, convulsing under your touch as you reach around and grip his cock, working him through his orgasm. 

He gasps as ropes of cum paint the sheets, covering your hand. You slow down your thrusts, not wanting to rip him out of his dazed state just yet. He whimpers as you pull out, feeling strangely empty without you filling up every inch of him. His body is limp against the bed, chest heaving trying to take in as much oxygen as possible as he comes down from his high, slowly but surely. 

You yelp when a hand grips the side of your arm suddenly, pulling you down onto the bed next to him. Matty’s sweet smile makes your heart swell up with love as you make eye contact, his brown eyes drooped half shut in pleasure. 

“Fucking mint.” he breathes, giggling as you roll your eyes at his utterly unsexy reaction to you fucking his brains out. 

“Really?” 

His smile turns into a grin as he pulls you in for a kiss, lips pressing firmly against yours. You hand cups his cheeks, wiping aways what's left of his tears.

“I fucking love you, that was world altering, fuck me.”   

“I already did, remember?” the opportunity was right there, and you both erupt into a fit of laughter at your bad jokes, grinning widely at each other. Matty lets out a grossed-out groan when he accidently rolls into the wet patch he had left in the bed, crying at the feeling of the damp fabric against his bare legs.

But, in typical Matty fashion, he opts to just cope, too lazy and fucked out to do anything about it. You try to convince him to get up, shower, maybe do anything except roll around in his cum soaked sheets. He flat out refuses, gripping your waist so tightly you felt Matty-shaped bruises form on the skin. 

He forces you to lay with him, not letting you get up. 

“Did it hurt?” you ask tentatively, genuinely curious. He shakes his head, trying to describe the sensation. 

“A bit, but it felt really fucking great after about two seconds, so totally worth it.” he kisses you again, softer but still passionate, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down lightly. 

“Did you like it?” he asks, trailing a finger up and down your arm, scratching it comfortingly. 

All you can do is smile, the memory of what you felt making you giddy. 

“I felt powerful.” you confess, a faint blush spreading onto your already flushed cheeks. Might as well let it all out, right? 

“You like being powerful?” you nod your head, confirming the sneaking suspicion he’s had since that very first night on his living room sofa. 

“I like it when you hurt me.” you laugh, that information having been painfully obvious for a while now. 

“I know, darling, you make it so obvious.” he curses at you for quote un-quote ‘kink shaming’ him, immediately mentioning your little knack for photography. 

“What do you do with the pictures?” you’ve never told him what happens to the polaroids after they properly develop, stashed in your nightstand drawer. 

“I don't kiss and tell.” you snigger at his hurt reaction, now even more desperate to know what goes on in your mind when your finger presses down on the shutter, immortalizing Matty in a picture as small as the palm of your hand. 

“That does not work if I'm the one you kissed, I’m afraid.” you dismiss him with a shake of your head, watching the hope leave his face. He nags you further, offering all sorts of services to get you to confess to him.

“I’ll show you sometime.” his eyes light up, ready to make yet another filthy comment. You press a finger to his lips, shushing him like he was a misbehaved child, smirking at his reaction. 

“Only if you're good, though.” he nods his head so eagerly, you're afraid he might get whiplash as he shuffles closer to you, nuzzling his face into your shirt (well, his goal was clearly your tits, but you didn't need to know that.)

“I'll be so good for you, you’ll regret ever denying me.” you laugh, vowing to hold him to it.