#and he's a little heart-sore about it but it is necessary if he wants to restore the house of bast to it's former glory

[superblysubpar]

best friend!steve harrington x you

3,025 words

warnings: this is a follow up to the one shot "Sincerely, Yours", it's not necessary to read that first, but I think you'll enjoy this one a heck of a lot more if you do | this contains direct dialogue from the movie Risky Business, which I don't own | alcohol mentions | wearing Steve's clothing, but size isn't mentioned | smut (oral, reader performing) - 18+ as always

a blurb for the "Trick or Treat, Freak?" event - don't forget to vote for tomorrow at the bottom of the fic!

A/N: Thank you to everyone sending requests in and for interacting with the first blurb! I'm just doing this for fun, setting a goal and aiming to reach it, but it's so much more fun when people get excited with me! I had such a fantastic time writing this, and there's some little nods to what trick and freak would have been in here, so I hope you enjoy!

As each cube dropped in the glass, the sharp and ringing clink only made you more aware of how fast your heart was racing.

Whiskey sloshed onto the counter as your hand shook from the pour and you swore under your breath and searched for a rag in the low light.

It’s not like you had anything to be nervous about, not like you were attempting to treat your best friend turned boyfriend to something you hadn’t yet given him.

Because you were taking it slow…

Kind of.

Steve told you over and over again that he didn’t need it reciprocated, that he liked making sure you felt good. He liked kissing you till both of your lips were red and your throats desperate for water and lipstick was smeared across his freckles and moles you couldn’t keep track of counting and your underwear was somehow in his front pocket yet again and the mixtape had been over for who knows how long…

And all of that was fun, more than fun, but you’d be lying if you didn’t admit you wanted more. Wanted to make him feel half as good as he’d made you feel, if that was even possible. Steve had thoroughly proved that the build up was just as good, if not better than the main event, but you couldn’t help it if every time your best friend walked in the room all you could think about was jumping his bones.

You’d almost done it, a few weeks ago in the back row of a theater in The Hawk. Your sweet, timid, and seemingly innocent kiss during the opening credits had turned to a hot and more than a little filthy make out session quickly. Steve had practically covered your entire chest in hickeys and you’d somehow ended up straddling his thigh and the thought of slipping to the ground and unzipping his obviously too tight Levi’s was intriguing, until Steve gasped a little too loud when you palmed him over his boxers, under said jeans, and then he flinched, forehead knocking yours, knee sending sticky coke all over the two of you as a flashlight lit you both up and a hissed voice told you to get out.

And then, shortly after that, you’d come even closer, in his bathroom. He’d done something incredibly stupid, but endearingly sweet, standing up for you in front of some assholes. Though his intentions were admirable, Steve had ended up with a bruise along his jaw, a split lip, and a couple of sore spots across his ribs and stomach. You’d patched him up carefully and quietly, scolding him and not really meaning it as he sat on the counter, shirtless, and pliant under your tender touches. Then you’d kissed his jaw and he said it made it feel so much better, could you do it again? And he’d squeezed your waist and smiled that stupid smile that had your legs turning to jelly. So you kissed the corner of his mouth, and let your trail of kissing brush every scratch and bruise you could find, even ones from when you were kids. But when you reached the dark denim resting against his hips, he lifted your head and kissed you, whispered against your lips a simple thank you, honey.

So now, now you weren’t messing around.

Your thumb swiped over the cool metal top of the can of coke and popped the tab, right on schedule as his front door started to creak open.

Steve’s whistle came to a halt as he entered his house, lights off, which wasn’t abnormal, but all the flickering tea light candles definitely were.

“Honey, are you-“

His eyes widened as music started, and you slide out into the foyer, not as fast, but absolutely more graceful and sexier than Tom Cruise, a fact to which you’d probably argue nobody could be hotter than Tom Cruise except maybe Steve himself. The mere thought of you saying this made his body warmer than it already was.

Your heartbeat was louder than the music as you leaned against the door frame and adjusted the corner of Steve’s ray bans you had covering your eyes, begging the butterflies in your stomach to get a fucking grip.

“Hey handsome.”

Steve swallowed, unsure of where to look. Unsure of what to do. What to say. He was fairly certain his tongue had taken over his entire mouth and he’d never be able to speak again except for something dumb like only the word “hot”.

Maybe a “So” in there too.

You had on his socks, bunched up around your ankles.

You had a drinking glass in your hand, a red lipstick stain on the rim.

You had on one of his dress shirts, slightly unbuttoned and revealing something that was red and lacy and really fucking hot.

You were Risky Businessing him.

Which, he guesses, is kind of fair, after all of the The Breakfast Clubbing he’d done to you.

Your eyebrows raised above his glasses, he assumed because you were waiting for his response so he cleared his throat, suddenly desperate for that drink your fingers were curled around.

“He-hey.”

Christ, his voice cracked.

You didn’t seem to mind, your lips quirked up on one end, adopting his signature cocky smirk.

Steve took a step forward, then another, and when he was almost to you, you matched each of his steps with one backwards. Steve’s eyes narrowed, his lips twitched in a fight for a smile.

“Angel,” he whispered, tilting his head, “What are you doing?”

Your foot reached the bottom stair, and you stepped up as you slid his glasses on to the top of your head and matched his volume, which you didn’t really mind, since you weren’t sure your nerves would let you speak louder anyways.

“You know Steve,” you grabbed at his hand and pulled him up the stairs right behind you, not missing the way his fingers curled into yours eagerly, “ ‘There’s one thing I’ve learned, in all my years…’ ”

Steve’s smile won now, following you up the stairs slowly, hanging on every word he already knew was coming.

“ ‘Sometimes’,” you cleared your throat, making it up to the top of the staircase, only stopping when you were just in front of the closed door to his room. “ ‘You gotta say what the fuck, make your move.’ ”

The door to his room swung open to reveal even more candles and Steve’s brain took a second to catch up with what he was seeing and hearing as you lead him into his room, as you glanced over your shoulder with a timid smile.

He looked up at you, as you led him to sit on the edge of his bed, hand gently pushing at his shoulder before you gave him the drink in your hand.

Steve could see now that you were nervous, the way your finger was scratching at the skin around your thumbnail, the way your thighs rubbed together and your toes wiggled in his socks as your shoulders hunched.

He quickly set the glass down on the ground and grabbed for your hands, voice soothing, “Hey, what’s going on, we don’t have-“

“Steve,” you interrupted, squeezing his fingers, “Let me say this, please?”

His head nodded, eyebrows scrunched together under a few pieces of hair that refused to stay put as his thumb swiped over the back of your knuckles gently.

Steve’s mind raced through thousands of terrible things you were about to tell him, not a fan of the tone you just had and how nervous you were and how you were clearly trying to distract him from whatever-

“I want to give you a blow job.”

His ears aren’t working anymore, everything sounding a little fuzzy and suddenly his mouth is so much more dry and his hands are sweating in yours that squeezed his fingers again as you blinked at him.

Blinked pretty pretty eyes above sexy pouting red lips in his fucking clothes and-

He reached for the drink he set down and started taking too large of gulps, the burning amber liquid doing nothing to soothe his throat.

“I know maybe you haven’t wanted me to because maybe you think I’ll be so terrible at it, but I have-“

“What?” he gasped, mouth falling open as you crossed your arms over your chest and took a step away from him. His stomach twisted from the thought that he’s made you feel like this.

Steve’s hands reached for you, curling around your hips before pulling you towards him slowly, speaking softly as he did, “Honey, I nearly just came in my jeans hearing you say you want to do that. That’s not the problem at all.”

Your hands found a new home on his shoulders, as you let Steve pull you between his spread legs. You tried not to focus on how good his hands running down and back up your thighs felt, or how his gaze kept drifting to where his hands catch the hem of his shirt as you asked, “But there is a problem?”

He shook his head, “No, no, problem is a bad word. I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to do that. ‘Cause maybe those other guys assumed, or made you or-“

Your hand cupped his jaw. “I promise, I want to give you one, I’m not doing it for you, I’m doing it for me.”

Steve’s brain buzzed, fizzled, then sparked, never to work properly again, he’s sure of it.

The butterflies in your stomach flap their wings wildly, shouting at you to do it already as Steve’s mouth hung open at your words and he let slip this sound that you’ve never heard from him before, intent on never forgetting it as long as you live.

Your thumb swiped over his lip, before both hands were pulling off his shirt and then you were saying, “Lay back for me, baby.”

Steve nodded as you guided him back on the bed, crawling over his body until his head was resting on a pillow and his hands were gripping your waist as you hovered over him.

The candles flickered around you, sending soft, warm gold and orange across his features, highlighting his cupid’s bow and the freckles next to his eyes. Your hands pressed to the mattress on either side of his head as your lips barely brushed his while your hips lowered, rolled against the already hard length beneath his jeans.

Steve’s fingers toyed with red lace as he gasped into your mouth when it retreated so quickly, head lifting from the pillow to chase your kiss. But your lips evaded him, skimming across his cheek to his jaw, leaving their mark on his neck as you spoke.

“Guess I shouldn’t give you one until you’re dizzy though, yeah? It’s only fair…”

His eyelashes fluttered closed as your teeth scraped on his neck while your lower half rolled against him, making his hips thrust up in search of more friction.

“Fu-fuck. I’m dizzy. I’m so dizzy,” he gasped, fingers searching under his button down for more of your skin to grab at.

You hummed into his chest, pressed another kiss there and then lifted your head to ask, “Sufficiently, so?”

He whined, loud, and scratchy and he didn’t even care if he sounded pathetic.

Steve looked like you’d never seen him. You’d witnessed a pretty dazed look before, after kissing each other in a way that left little time for things like air, or when he’d looked up at you after that first night in the back seat of his car. But this was different, so different.

His eyelids were hooded, the green and gold you’d normally get to stare into blown out by dark pupils and more of a match to the now drained whiskey in the low light. His cheeks were flushed pink, just like his lips that he’d just licked. Brown hair all wild, already ruffled and messed up from the few moments against his pillows. His chest was heaving, like his lungs didn’t know how to take in air and expel it normally anymore, muscles underneath tan skin taut and flexing every time you adjusted your hips.

Your heartbeat was in your ears as your fingers started to slip over the silver buckle on his belt and your voice strained to sound confident.

“Your ‘I’m about to get a blow job’ face is real cute, Harrington.”

The sound of his zipper dragging open was loud, and painfully slow.

Steve’s hands gripped the bedding next to him, his neck extended, his swallow prominent and on display as you pushed at his jeans and he gasped out a quiet, “Not sexy?”

You laughed, breath warm against his stomach, just above the band of his boxers. Your nose traced along the elastic while your hand palmed him through the fabric.

“Oh my god,” Steve groaned, strained and through clenched teeth.

Figuring you’d teased him long enough, you pulled at his boxers, helping him carefully kick off the garments stuck around his ankles. Your hands rested on his thighs as you took a deep breath and risked a glance back up at him.

Steve was propped up on his elbows, swallowing as he watched you lower yourself, hands flexing against the sheets as your tongue traced over a vein, following it up his length. He took deep breaths, trying to focus on anything other than the fact that he was about to come in two seconds.

Your hand wrapped around him, while your mouth brushed over his tip, fighting a smile when his hips flexed under you.

“Relax, Steve,” you whispered against the head of him, looking up under your lashes to find him biting his lip raw as you continued, “Let me make you feel good, please?”

He nodded, frantic and suddenly stopping as his mouth fell open when yours sunk lower on him. Your tongue rested flat against him, spit traveling down his length the further you went.

Steve barely fit in your mouth, jaw straining and your hand helping as your head bobbed up and down. Confidence growing by the second with each restrained thrust of his hips, desperate to meet your mouth, each glance up at him flushed and gripping the sheets, each babbled word and phrase from his lips meeting your ears and only making you go faster.

“Holy…oh my…honey, you’re-“

He couldn’t even form a coherent thought, lost in the sight of him disappearing into your mouth, the red lipstick staining his skin, the way your lips popped off of the tip, spit keeping you connected. His stomach was burning, chest on fire when you blinked at him and smiled shyly after a few minutes.

“Good?”

Steve nodded, his hand left the mattress without thinking and curled around your jaw, pulling you up, desperate to kiss you and make your lipstick even more a mess, but you pulled away.

“Steve, I’m not done,” you kissed his palm, “Gotta taste you, baby.”

He sucked in a breath and shook his head no, eyes squeezed shut as he gasped out, “Oh my god, you can’t say stuff like-“

“You say stuff like that all the time!” Your protest a laugh, making his dick twitch against his stomach, which makes your mouth water.

“But-“ his feeble attempt at another protest lost the minute your mouth was back on him, too warm and too perfect. You were perfect. Perfect like chocolate and popcorn together, perfect like a red swimsuit in his pool, perfect like his best fucking friend in the whole world sharing his milkshake and stealing his fries and laughing at something dumb he said. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve this, to deserve you. Steve’s hands twitch at his sides, desperate to reach out and touch you, to hold the back of your head and never let you go, but knowing he can’t do that.

At least, not yet.

You’re lost in the way he feels against your tongue, the way he hits the back of your throat, how your underwear is just as wet as you’ve made him, desperate to come with him, your fingers slide between your legs when Steve whimpers, “You’re so…so good, oh my god-“

His gasp has you looking up to find Steve’s mouth hung open and his stare on where your fingers press circles into your clit, cheeks warm and stomach more so under his gaze.

Steve swallows, and nods to your fingers, “Faster, go faster baby.”

Your eyes practically roll back, doing as he says, mouth slipping over him deeper and at a quicker pace your fingers try to match.

Steve’s hand cups your jaw, thumb pressed to the corner of your mouth where you meet him, smearing whatever lipstick’s left as his stomach clenches and his hips thrust up.

“Honey, ohmygod, I’m gonna…where-“

You only double down on your efforts, taking him even deeper and Steve spills over your tongue as he says your name in a way you’ll never forget.

Like it has only the best letters. Like it only belongs coming out of his mouth.

Like it was his.

You gush over your own fingers as you swallow around him and he winces when he slips from between your lips.

Both of you are breathing hard, needing a minute, but Steve’s never been patient. He grabs at you, pulling you up his body until he’s rolling you, his name a laugh and protest all in one as he kisses down your body and starts unbuttoning his shirt.

He only stops to kiss you, finally, holding your lips for a little longer than he needs to between his own and whispers against them, “That’s enough out of you, I think.”

Your laugh curls around him like your fingers in the hair behind his ear.

“Yeah? Have some fancy trick to get me-“

His mouth was on before you could even finish the sentence, words cut off in a gasp of his name.

Like it had only the best letters, like it was yours.

I'm actually so deeply excited for all three of these options, I can't wait to see the results! (And also, I mean, how could I not do we'll call it love steve for sunset? Is anyone shocked?)

*voting will close at 10am CST tomorrow, 10/3

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, violence/abuse, threat of bodily harm

gn reader

Thinking about poly yanderes again…

They’re both so patronizing – suffocatingly so. 

But where one is a brute, the other is sweet – or sweeter than the former, in any case...

He has a certain calm about him – gentle with you – considerate when showing his affection, and patient with you when he’s intimate. He doesn’t growl at you to shut up and lie still the way the other one does – instead, he asks you if you can be good for him – if you can let him love you – lipping at your throat without the touch of teeth as he all but begs for your consent.

The brute doesn't bother with such foreplay...

Your will doesn’t seem to interest him in any other aspect than ripping it from you and strangling it in his fist with a big grin, laughing while watching those pitiful tears start slipping down your cheeks.

He'll just shrug off the kinder one when he chides, telling him to stop being so rough with you. He just squeezes you a little tighter, sucks your neck a little harder, and kneads his cock a little deeper – saying that he can do whatever he wants with that which belongs to him.

When you struggle against him, he’s not shy of punishing you accordingly – in fact, he jumps at the opportunity – bending you over his lap with his fist riddled in your hair – landing strike after strike until you’re screaming in surrender, all cute pleas for his mercy, words he’s told you to say. 

He likes fucking you like that – when you’re a broken mess who only clings to him for comfort, crying into his neck while he pumps you full of cock and cum.

The kinder one scolds him afterward. Tells him he’s a fiend while petting your head and hair, carrying you away from the scene and into the bathroom. He draws you a tub of bubbles and holds a glass of water to your lips. But for all his niceties – he still gets in the hot water with you – cock in your sore hole while he washes your hair.

Still, he’s more reasonable.

When he’s tying your wrists to the bedpost like every night of you sleeping stuck in between them, you ask him if it’s really necessary – promising him you’re not going to run away – telling him that you’re going to stay right there, peacefully asleep.

The brute says that it isn’t something that’s up for discussion, that if you push your luck, he’s gonna tie every inch of you up like a floppy fish caught in a net ready to be gutted. But you don’t heed the warning – looking to your kinder warden with puppy eyes and a pout on your lips, saying please, it hurts your wrists – again, promising him you’ll be good and stay sound asleep between them the entire night.

You just needed to get to the door. 

You just needed to get to the door – through the door – out into the street, screaming while at it, and surely someone, anyone, would come to your rescue. 

Why wouldn't your feet move quicker? Why weren’t you faster? Why were you clumsier now? Tripping over rugs, missing steps when scrambling down the stairs, slipping when turning corners – trying to navigate the house when you’d barely ever seen anything but the bedroom.

You just needed to get to the door – but you could hear one of them coming after you – just behind you – big monstrous thundering steps shaking you to the core, strangling your heart, shattering your bones – and it’s getting hard to breathe, hard to see, hard to feel anything other than the numbing fear and the awful way it cripples you – throwing your mind into a tailspin while choking your lungs free of all air, clawing up your throat into a scream. 

You just needed to get to the fucking door –

You hadn't known you could make a sound like that – like something out of a horror movie – high-pitched and desperate – ripped from somewhere raw and primal.

There’s a hand in your hair, yanking you backward where you’re received by a hard chest and an arm snaking around your waist, hoisting you off the ground, kicking and yelling.

It’s the brute. He looks almost happy you’d tried running away – a manic look of delight on his face when he finally drops you down on the floor – pinning you beneath him – shadowing you with teeth seemingly dripping with venom and all the ugly punishments he’s no doubt cooking up inside his sick mind.

“Your ass is gettin’ it extra fuckin’ hard tonight – my handprint won’t heal for a month – won’t even be able to sit down without cryin’.” He growls, his teeth on your cheek as he grips your jaw tight – starting off your punishment with a harsh lovebite.

You look at the more merciful of the two. 

He’s standing off to the side, looking down at the two of you. 

You expect he’d come to the rescue like he’d done all those other times.

But to your utter horror… he isn’t lifting a single finger to stop it. 

His face is blank – cold – as cold as the words that roll dryly off his tongue, “I think we’ve established that spanking isn’t enough…” 

The one holding you down halts in his advances and seems to get just as frigid as you by the cold-blooded tone of his partner – who takes slow steps toward the two of you, so close he’s got your hair pinned beneath his toes before crouching down until he as well looms over you like a darkening storm.

He reaches a stiff hand to soothe the ring of teeth left on your cheek by the other – seemingly kindly, but his eyes are so jaded your breath catches in your throat – soulless as they stare into your teary ones.

“Maybe we ought to get ahead of the issue and break your legs.” He suggests nonchalantly, making both your and your other captor’s faces bleach.

Then he smiles – that kind smile, only now you can’t help but flinch at the sight of it. 

“That way, everyone’s happy,” He states, explaining, “You won't have to be tied up, and we can trust you to keep your word and stay put when you promise us you will.”

Then he stands up and straightens himself, looking at his partner with that same eerie smile.

“Where’d you put the bat again?”

The brute stiffens. His crazed expression had melted in light of the other into a look you’d never seen on him before. He swallows thickly as though he’s just as worried as you are. His voice is hesitant, “I think rope is enough…” 

The other throws his brows up. “Oh?” Then he snaps his focus back to you. “What do you think, baby? You think that’s enough?” He walks back to the two of you, and you feel the intense urge to hide behind the one you’d initially been caught running from.

He looks down at you expectantly, watching your lip quiver as you struggle to form an answer without choking on it.

“Hm? What was that? Rope or bat, what do you prefer?” His voice is sharp, licking at you like a knife.

You stutter, “Ro-rope.”

“Yeah? Okay, then – that’s settled.” He confirms, then looks back at the other. “Go get the rope.”

It doesn’t seem like he wants to leave – almost like he’s afraid of what might happen if he does. “Now?” He asks.

“Yes, now.” The smile tightens – sharpens into something truly lethal if you were to test it. “Our pet thinks they can run wild, so we’ll have to reintroduce them to the leash.”

Then he sets his sights back on you, robbing you of all air.

“Unless you’d prefer the bat after all?”

You whimper, shaking your head with a sniffle, “No-no – rope…”

He looks back to the other. “You heard 'em. Get going.”

He’s reluctant about it – looking from you to him, then back to you again, almost apologetically – before he gets up off you, leaving you on the floor – alone.

Your hair is then grabbed harshly, and you’re pulled up to your feet before you’re dragged off them – pulled along until you’re tugged from the floor up onto his lap as he plopped down, comfortably seated on the couch.

He sighs, letting go of your hair and placing both hands on the fat of your haunches, making you straddle him – mirroring your breathless, tear-streaked face with an expressionless one.

A hand ascends, and you’re convinced he’s going to slap you – but as you squeeze your eyes tightly shut in wait for it, his hand finds your cheek, only to ever-so-gently pet the wet away.

Cupping your face, he places a light peck on the corner of your mouth, followed by his voice, “Apologize, and I’ll forgive you.”

Your eyes peel open, looking back into his. You regret it instantly. Still eclipsed, it’s a cold and blank stare that seems to seize you by the throat.

“I’m sorry, I’ll never- never ever do it again.” You whisper pitifully – as if you’re afraid to be too loud.

“Hm…” He hums, looking unimpressed. “I don’t think that’s good enough…” 

His hand slips from your face down your neck, circling it lightly before squeezing it firmly with whitening knuckles. “You hurt my feelings, y’know? I trusted you, and you lied to me – right to my fucking face.”

You cack, wrapping your smaller hands around his wrist as he strangles the words out of you. “I’m sorry- I’m really- really sorry-”

His breathing is thick, as though something’s bubbling underneath the surface – a beast within whose bloodthirst hasn’t yet been sated. “I want more than empty words.” He states flatly, unforgivingly.

Still, he lets go of your throat, letting you drop to his chest, panting sore breaths with his words ringing hot in your head. You start kissing between sipping for air – desperately, up his neck and jaw, then his lips, even though he doesn’t kiss back – pleading, “Please forgive me- I’m sorry, I-”

“Yeah? You’re sorry?” He mocks, stroking the back of your head, down your back as though soothing you – voice dripping with fake empathy. “Sorry for what exactly? Hm? For being a dumb little bitch, thinking you could run when you haven’t even so much as walked on your own two feet for months.”

A laugh inches into his words like a sickness. The eerie smile returns, small and curling in the corner of his mouth.

“You were fuckin’ hilarious, you know that?” He breathes lightly – eyes wide, staring at you like cornered prey. “Trippin’ over yer own two feet, barely even making it to the door.”

The grip around your throat returns, and you squeak out a whimper.

“Say it.” He seethes, “Say you’re a dumb little bitch who didn’t know what you were doing.” His lips ghost yours with the command, forcing you to echo the words back into his mouth.

“I’m- I’m a dumb little bitch- I’m- I didn’t know what I was doing-” 

He hums at your shivering but doesn’t ease his grip – molding his lips against yours, he kisses you deeply until parting with your lips between his teeth – letting go slowly.

“I- I’ll be good from now on, I promise-” You add – in the hope it would thaw the ice of his stare.

It doesn’t. He keeps them just as jaded – half-masted now as he runs his fingers up and down your spine, brushing your chin and cheek with his lips until blowing on your ear. “You better be.”

You shudder, wincing.

“‘Cause if you ever try anything like that again, I’m gonna go get that bat – and nothing and no one is gonna keep me from bashing away at you until I’ve made certain you can’t lift a single fucking finger without my help.”

You’re a broken mess of sniveling apologies and prayers on his lap by the time the brute comes back with the rope. 

But the one who’d reduced you to it doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. 

“There you are!” He beams with a bright smile.

Acting as though you weren’t falling apart in his arms, gripping his shirt for purchase while sobbing hard and ugly into his chest. 

“Let’s tie every square inch of 'em up like you suggested.” He muses while picking your tear-stained face up in both hands, nose-kissing you with his words dripping fondly off his tongue. “Just like a floppy fish ready to be gutted.”

BNHA – BakuDeku, DabiHawks, EndMight, ShinKami, TodoDeku, KiriBaku, Shiggy x villain!Deku

JJK – SatoSugu, YujiKuna, YujiGumi

HQ – Miya twins, IwaOi,

BLLK – NagiReo, KuniGiri

AOT - EreMin

DS - InoTan, DouAka

HxH – HisoIllu

[pastryfication]

could you write something about oscar and his broken rib? maybe how you imagine how it happend, him going to the hospital to check it out, y/n taking care of him and being worried, him insisting to race,…

hope that helps with inspiration. you don‘t have to write everything from above just what you like

fortune in misfortune | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x gf!reader. note: i still can’t believe that he raced (AND WON???) with a broken rib so this was definitely fun to write. thank you for requesting it!! <3

you’re sitting on the couch, legs draped over oscar’s lap, when you notice him wince. it’s subtle, just a tiny flinch, but you catch it. you pull your eyes away from the movie and look at him, raising an eyebrow. "what’s wrong?"

oscar tries to shrug it off, offering a half-hearted smile. “nothing, just a little sore from training.”

you narrow your eyes, not convinced. “you sure? you don’t look fine.”

he chuckles, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “i’m okay, really. maybe i pulled something, but it’s nothing serious.”

you let it go for now, but the nagging feeling in your gut doesn’t disappear. he’s been home for a few days between races, and you’ve noticed he’s been moving a bit more carefully than usual. you figure he’s just being cautious—he’s got a big race in hungary coming up and doesn’t want to risk anything.

a couple of days later, you’re in the kitchen making breakfast when you hear a crash. rushing to the living room, you find oscar on the floor, holding his side and gritting his teeth.

“oscar!” you exclaim, dropping to your knees beside him. “what happened?”

he tries to laugh, but it comes out more like a groan. “tripped over my own feet… and then, well, the coffee table.”

your heart races as you help him up, his face pale with pain. “we’re going to the hospital.”

he starts to protest, but one look at your determined expression and he knows better than to argue. “okay, okay. but it’s probably just a bruise.”

you drive him to the hospital, anxiety bubbling in your chest. oscar tries to lighten the mood, cracking jokes and insisting that he’s fine, but you can see the discomfort etched on his face.

in the examination room, the doctor checks him over, sending him for an x-ray. you sit beside him, holding his hand, trying to mask your worry with a smile.

when the doctor returns, he frowns at the x-ray images. “well, there’s nothing obvious here, but given your symptoms, i’d like to do an ultrasound to be sure.”

oscar nods, though you can see a flicker of concern in his eyes. you squeeze his hand tighter.

a little while later, the ultrasound reveals what the x-ray didn’t—he’s got a small, hairline fracture in one of his ribs. the doctor explains it’s not too serious but could cause pain, especially with the physical demands of racing.

you feel a wave of relief mixed with fresh worry. “so what now? should he be resting? can he still race?” your questions tumble out faster than you can control them.

oscar gives you a reassuring smile, despite the obvious discomfort. “it’s just a small fracture. i’ll take it easy.”

the doctor advises some rest and pain management but doesn’t explicitly forbid racing. oscar seems almost relieved, but you’re still not convinced. “oscar, i don’t know… this sounds serious.”

“hey,” he says softly, turning to face you fully. “i’ll be careful. if it gets worse, i’ll pull out, okay? but right now, i’m feeling alright. it’s just a bit of pain.”

you know how stubborn he can be, and how much racing means to him. you want to make him stay home, keep him safe, but you also know he wouldn’t be happy with that.

over the next few days, you fuss over him—probably more than necessary, but you can’t help it. you make sure he’s comfortable, keep an eye on him whenever he moves, and remind him to take his pain meds. oscar endures it with a smile, teasing you gently about being so worried.

“you’re gonna wrap me in bubble wrap next,” he jokes one morning as you hand him a glass of water with his painkillers.

“don’t tempt me,” you reply, only half-joking. but you know you can’t keep him from going to hungary. it’s what he loves, and you can see the determination in his eyes.

the day before he’s supposed to leave, you sit together in bed, your head resting on his shoulder. “just promise me you’ll be careful.”

he kisses the top of your head, his voice soft. “i promise. and if it gets too much, i’ll stop. but i’ve got this, love. don’t worry too much.”

you nod, trying to believe it, but the worry still lingers in your chest. you just want him to be okay.

the next morning, you drive him to the airport, your hand gripping his a little tighter than usual. “text me as soon as you land, and call me if you need anything.”

oscar smiles, leaning in for a kiss. “i will. and i’ll be back before you know it.”

as you watch him walk into the terminal, you can’t shake the feeling of anxiety. but you trust him. he’ll be careful. he’s oscar, after all—strong, determined, and maybe just a little bit clumsy. and you’ll be here, waiting for him, ready to take care of him when he gets back.

[tom-whore-dleston]

Denial and Devotion

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x f. reader

Word Count: 880

This fic contains: preludes to smut, implied smut, amnesia, mentions of squirting and fingering, reader was a Soldier Boy fangirl (like me fr xD), toxic celebrity culture?

Summary: You are in denial that you slept with the Supe you used to crush on.

Notes: I'm just a girl that writes Soldier Boy fanfic at 2am knowing damn well I have work at 9am flksdghk this gif replays in my brain every waking moment of the day I literally hate how hot he is >:( This is my weekly contribution to @flashfictionfridayofficial’s prompt no. 241: Hour of Denial

The moment you rose from your slumber, you knew something was wrong. First off, you woke up in a room that you did not recognize. Then, you realized the cotton sheets of the unfamiliar bed clung close to your bare skin as if you had slept in it before. 

You attempted to lift yourself out the bed, but your muscles were weak, soreness more prominent in your hips and thighs. As you winced in discomfort, your eyes widened upon the discolored love bites scattered over your body. Your eyes finally glanced to the opposite side of the bed, only to discover the person occupying it was none other than Soldier Boy.

When you were younger, Soldier Boy was your first crush. At the time, he was presumed dead, but your father would tell you stories about how he was one of the greatest superheroes to ever live. Your childhood room was covered in Soldier Boy posters and you had a doll of him that never left the box. As you got older, you conducted more research on the man you worshiped, but eventually learned that he was a monster in a superhero costume. As a result, you ripped the posters to shreds and finessed some cash off the doll in hopes to erase any trace of your Soldier Boy phase. 

You stared in disbelief at the same man that lay peacefully asleep. Your mind raced with questions. The only logical answer to all of them was that you were dreaming. To test the theory, you pinched your forearm as hard as you could. After cursing from the pain, you tried another method by poking Soldier Boy in his meaty bicep. Without fluttering his eyes open, he grunted in annoyance and rolled over. 

If your head wasn’t already spinning, it definitely was at this very moment. You slithered out of the bed, making sure not to disturb the sleeping man, and frantically searched for your clothes. In a hurried attempt, you shimmied back into your little black dress from the night before. Regardless of whether this was all a dream or not, you silently vowed that you are remaining sober for the rest of the month. 

“Where you going so fast, sweetheart?” You turned toward the groggy voice that belonged to Soldier Boy, who was propped up against the bed frame with his muscular torso in view. It felt as if no time had passed since the beginning stages of your devotion to Soldier Boy. Your eyes scanned over his physique with a hunger that only he could satisfy. Heat radiated your body and you stood paralyzed in your unzipped dress, leaving enough uncovered for his imagination to run wild.

As Soldier Boy hopped out of bed, you swiftly turned away as his thick cock unveiled from the thin sheets. He began walking towards you, but you ignored him by fiddling with the zipper on your back. You grew frustrated with the zipper’s defiance the closer the beefy supe inched towards you. His intense stare begged for your attention until he took matters into his own hands by lifting your chin up to his gaze. Your heart pounded against your chest as his green eyes studied your face. Except there was no studying necessary.

“I’m a little embarrassed by this,” you laughed nervously, “but I don’t remember anything from last night.”

Soldier Boy smirked. “Want me to give you a reminder?”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary.” You paused. You may not have been as infatuated with the supe as much as you once were, but you didn’t want to come off as rude. “I mean…I’m sure last night was great but I shouldn’t impose-“

“Great? Well if you define squirting on my fingers and cock until you begged me to stop as great then maybe I gotta fuck you harder.” 

You were about to let out a moan, but quickly masked it with a sigh. Every part of you wanted to hate him but the ache in between your legs betrayed your voice of reason.

“You can play the ex-fangirl game all you want, but you and I know you never truly get over your first crush.” There wasn’t a more pathetic feeling than regressing back into that naive girl who treated a flawed superhero like a god. 

Suddenly, your back hit the wall and Soldier Boy towered over you, his arm the only thing keeping him from pressing you against the wall to grind into your core. His free hand hooked under the strap of your dress, slowly pulling it off your shoulder. As the dress pooled around your feet, he lightly kissed the crook of your neck, electricity coursing your blood as his beard pricked your skin.

His hot breath fanned over your ear. “There’s no need to deny me anymore, sweetheart. I’m here for you to worship and fulfill all your pretty little fantasies.”

Fuck it.

All your common sense flew out the window as you desperately smashed your lips against his. Gripping your wrists, he pinned you against the wall before grinding his semi hard cock against your wet pussy. 

Soldier Boy may have been the biggest pain in your ass, literally and figuratively, but he was right about you never fully recovering from your first crush.

Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Soldier Boy Masterlist

header credit: @saradika | divider credit: @firefly-in-darkness

[anantaru]

Hiya! I just came across your post about what would happen if you said the ‘safe word’ in bed with Alhaitham and ayato.. I was wondering if you’d maybe be able to do it with Kazuha, Xiao and Scaramouche? I’m so curious aha

If you don’t want to I completely understand but I just really like your writing style 🥺

cw. saying the safeword, angsty, fem! reader

a/n. hello loves, quick side note: this is an exception since i had already planned to write them in this scenario as well, please don't send thirsts with more than one character in the future <3 ty and enjoy

— kazuha

kazuha blows his hips into you, hard, precise storms of his thrusts finding your dribbling cunt and in any other typical case, you would've twisted and turned to have him deeper in you, arch your back when he licks his tongue over your neck to wet the skin— specifically to have his cock crowd you this way, until you're seeing nothing but glittering, white stars.

thus far, it didn't develop into the same thing and you begin to wonder why you haven't felt your best tonight. involuntarily you start to sense how you're clenching down on him, wrapping your trembling arms around his chest and hiding your face into his sweat-troubled neck, his pulse throbbing on your cheek.

for some reason, you thought that if you were to calm yourself down, without telling kazuha how you really felt, it would simply go away but again, this time it didn't and nothing was as important as voicing your concerns and discomfort during sex.

he closes your already troubled breathing state when he moves down to sloppily make out with you, ramming the head of his cock into your deepest spots while excitedly running his hand down your core to play with your little clit and stimulate you further as you did something he never thought he'd ever have to encounter nor witness.

you voice, cry and yell out your safe word over and over, right against his cheek when his eyes shot open in disbelief, large and wide, glossed in unwavering worry. every little sound of you felt like it’s multiplying by a tenfold, and you can’t stop.

kazuha pulls out immediately, pacing his eyes over your shaking figure back and forth, watching you again, back and forth, "my love." he says quietly, loosing the beat of his heart when he witnessed your tears spinning out of control. to be sure he was doing what was necessary, he decided to pull away the blanket which was clumsily thrown over you both in order to make it easier for you to breathe, not leaving your space, but he didn't lay a finger on you, the last he would want now was to cross any more boundaries and it eats him up inside, quietly crying.

"do—" his heart sinks, and so does his voice, "do you need water? are you thirsty? please.." absentmindedly, you run your fingers over his upper arm, but the panic in you, for whatever reason it had emerged, is all-consuming and couldn't be shaken off.

your stomach was in knots and you can barely catch yourself, but you also didn't want kazuha to leave you, voicing him clearly, although with a silent tone, that he should please stay. he directly nods in agreement, placing his palm on top of your agitating hand, telling you to take your time and that it was okay, in fact, you had nothing to worry about, he won't leave.

— xiao

xiao's rough touch and mundane scent was everywhere around you, perceivable and invading your nostrils. you loved it whenever he was a little rough with you, almost feral, pleasing your body until you're shaking from aftershocks of his skilled thrusts.

that time, he twists his fingers around your nipples, just a bit but he did it repeatedly, like you would if you were turning a particularly sensitive knob— and your mounds of flesh were beginning to burn, while his groans were getting louder, showing sweet euphoric need, through with a loud, fast smack of his hips repeatedly finding your soiled cunt.

in combination with him stimulating you on many parts at once, you suddenly began to feel tense and sore, experience an abnormality like you can’t focus on anything, not on him, especially not on the pleasure that of course, was feeling amazing and well but it also didn't.

your heart was racing greatly and you started to sweat profoundly, cold, washed over sweat untangling over your spine and forehead. subtle hints, such as tapping his shoulder were getting you nowhere, and it only made your situation worse as time passed.

"xiao!" you cry out in an instant, not knowing what to do as his blows got even faster, pistoling into your tight pussy, thinking you're enjoying it as much as he did. "xiao, please stop!" and you squeal your safe word and panic one last time before he immediately stills himself, as if you turned off a switch in his brain, making him reach down to push you away.

his gaze hovers around your face, and that's when he saw it, crystal clear, your scrunched together expression that was signaling no sorts of pleasure and he couldn't settle on looking at you for too long, it was beginning to eat him from the very within and his chest was heavy, filled with stones that kept him chained to the ground, so he gets up to sit next to your quivering body.

xiao was speechless, did he really just inflict clear, hurting pain on the person he loved the utmost, more than himself for that matter.

his once, with pleasure glowing eyes, take on a haunted look, open wide in helpless circles, not knowing what to do. if he were the same person before he met you, he would've left and punished himself for what he did but he knew, he just knew that it would make this situation even worse. so he decided to stay, although he didn't say much at first, he did everything in his power to help you, when you so desired any help of him.

it's when he speaks for the first time, "i'm—" and gulps down, eyes burgeoning with tears yet they do not slip, "i am so sorry." his neck grew corded with tension, jaw evertight as he bites down on his cheeks, "so sorry, so sorry.."

"please don't leave me." he continues, xiao makes the tiniest noise in his voice, a worried hitch in his breathing, and for a moment you think he might be leaving you instead, starting to think again that he wasn't enough and that you do deserve better than him. but he settles back down, he doesn't leave and you would lie if you say it didn't surprise you.

you brush away the spilled, dried tears on your cheeks, "i could never leave you." and take his hand to kiss his knuckles, "it's okay."

— scaramouche

scaramouche had immense power, you knew of that and how strong and rough he could get. he easily hauls you off his throbbing cock to abruptly push you into the mattress, hovering on top of you now so he could look and read your sinful expressions, gather and indulge in them while you relish in him fucking you with his fully erected cock.

your bottom lip quivers, and tears had since long been rimming around the sides of your eyes and in any other cases it would be an implication that he was doing a good job, "fuck— fuck, that feels so good." he groans out, ramming his hips into your split hole and groaning out when you clench around his girth.

truth is, he was way too fast and needy with you tonight, making it not possible for you to catch a single breather as he uses your cunt as he pleases, taking you in and out and hoisting you back and forth his leaking member. by this time, you could barely look at him with a clear vision, tears parting from your lashes at last when you cry out in gulps and chokes— the stretch on your cunt aching and forming into anything else than pleasure.

while your first moans were fallen on deaf ears, those in particular that slipped past the tip of your tongue now, made his skin shiver.

"wait— no, no." he quickly pulls you off when you began to uncontrollably sob under him, really not knowing what had caused all of this. he was quick to brush away the tears on your face, "i'm— I'm sorry, please don't cry." his touch for now, had been completely different than just moments ago, now it's warm and soft again, understanding and full of sorrow.

he swallows dryly, unable to wet his parched throat, he hated himself very much right now, his muscles stiffened when you decide to look at him. "i'm sorry." you suddenly state, "this is so embarrassing." confusing him even more and archons knew why you were apologizing in the first place, because you absolutely shouldn't.

"don't." he pushes a warm blanket over your cold, shaking body, "don't apologize." he adds on, "you're not at fault, you hear me."

his eyes soften when you nod, searching for his touch, eyes blood shot but you really needed him to hug you right now as he pulled slow circles on your hips, opening his arms for you so you could easily rest your head on his chest. "i was too rough with you tonight, right?"

"i mean—" he quickly retracts his statement, panicking and smacking himself in his imagination, "that's not important, take your time, don't speak and take your time."

"wait, but you can speak.. if you want."

you answer back with a breathless laugh, placing him in an even more confused state but you would lie to yourself if you'd say he wasn't adorable in his stuttering and his desperate attempts to make you feel comforted. "can we lay like this for the night?"

"of course." he affirms you immediately, "you don't have to ask." silently grazing his hand from your hips to place it on your dampened cheek to cradle your face, sweetly kissing your forehead and smiling.

"everything you want."

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[watashijeon]

Mon Ange. | KTH

listen while reading — Is there someone else The Weeknd

— I made you mine, or so it seemed. I might as well be two feet tall. You never will love me at all. —

You’re calling out for his name, nothing can kill this moment. He feels sweetness and ease.. never has he let himself slip. But tonight is his birthday or so it was hours before.

Nonetheless, nothing could kill the stillness.

"Hm?" he’s mumbling with his speech, nose buried into pretty flushed skin. He feels confused, feeling you still when your words came out so blurred in his mind.

“I have to tell you something.”

Completely lost now where this was going, he stills his touch. Awkward and stiff, you make eye contact for what you are about to say.

He doesn’t understand the build up, he just wish you would say what it was. Maybe you had to take some time away from him due to your work.. he understood, he didn’t mind that.

"I think we should end our arrangement."

Oh. It’s so different from what he had just suspected, why does his heart feel like it just plummeted to another oblivion of nothing?

Taehyung doesn’t care, he’s undisciplined and chaotic with his very few next actions.

You need to leave. Freezing up, ready for his immediate impulse, because you know him like the back of your hand. The man picks you right off from his lap, rather rough and he would have time to regret on the meanness of it later.

He’s quick to pointing his hand open palm stiff and stern to the now sad wrinkled dress on the floor that laid lonely.

“Well, go on then.”

Your eyes looked at him pained, you had not a clue what his reaction really meant but you moved. Wiggling on your dress, back faced to him before looking once more to see his distracted stare. He is so out of it now, he doesn’t know.

“You understand.. right, Tae?” oh why must you speak so sweet to him using his shorten nickname in that especially nauseating sweet voice, even the way you are ending this is a million times nicer than he has ever ended a fling with a person.

“I do, bye.”

He’s being so mean, harsh and rude.

Taehyung hopes you won’t dwell on it or let it hurt your heart like it will to his very own.

But somehow he wants it to pain you, make you feel the same burn and ripping he feels in his chest right now. What did he do wrong?

“Goodbye Taehyung.” and that was it, the door clicked and so did his very front one. Left with the forbidden but likely delicious and perfect red velvet cake you’ve made, and a gift that sat perfectly next to it wrapped in his favorite color for wrapping paper on his kitchen island.

And indeed you had to make his favorite cake flavor, meaning you remembered the stupid detail when he told you on a night together.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

He remembers so clearly on the morning you stayed after for the first time coming over for six months. The two of you had lazed in his bed between tangled limbs and sheets “I will, I will protect you.” your lips dropped into a pout tracing your nimble finger over the man’s jaw.

How could you even say that when you leave him not much later, he doesn’t get it. This isn’t like you at all. Maybe being in pained denial he couldn’t accept the sore fact that someone made the first move on with abandonment.

You weren’t supposed to lie, it’s uncalled for and unacceptable. But even deep down the man knew he was being ignorant, he’s lied to many people to avoid hurt and it was his own field of career to lie if necessary.. that’s all you were trying to do.

The man can’t dare to muster up to think you have a bad bone in your little body that was filled of nothing less of kindness. But right now he won’t be rational with his assumptions.

He’s angry and selfish with dire need for your presence now all over again, no matter the situation that this is. But whatever really, big deal that you are gone. He will find someone else to fuck his life into, you are no different from any other living human with a hole.

…

He pauses.

Never mind that, fuck that. He deserves a good and perfect reason for why you did this.. leaving him in the dark, quite literally. Taehyung can't stand not talking to you even if he never took time to speak so much into your conversations. He still appreciated all of your efforts and presence you put into whatever what you had was, now it’s all fucking gone.

He used to act upon impulse when he would have multiple play things through out the month. But you, you make him stop to think. It makes him wrinkle his nose because he does not have a clue why you turn him to be this way. It’s simply you being you, no spell.. no great manipulation in your words. Just you.

In the beginning of this arrangement he was reluctant given the age gap, especially with the relation that you were a long time family client of his.

Once he became enthralled with someone.. he could say it took a lot to kill it.

You weren’t the only one that had the privilege, he’s turned thirty two this year and definitely doesn’t have enough fingers to count on with how many girls he has used up and nicely dumped off to the side — kindly.

Sparing the honest reason that he needs to focus on his career before weeks later he would latch claws into his new toy, it’s only painstakingly different now.

Much different because he had never held onto a “toy” for over a few months at a time, the man liked variety and trying new things. With you in the picture, it was sickening at the fact that he grew real attachment to every little thing about you. It made him want you more. While he is nothing great of the sort for you, he was only a warm body to give you what was desired. You gave him your body and time, in return he would give you lust driven pleasure.

He was the one who established what you two were from the great beginning, he was not allowed to feel betrayed and cheated. Someone could hate him and he would cackle at that, a girl could scream at the stoic man and he’d chuckle again. Once you lose his interest there is no winning him back, it's as if getting stuck in a never ending pit of quick sand that could swallow you in pitiful eyes. He thinks it’s valid to feel this way, he’s coming to terms with the whole ordeal of what all this was.

Being your damn family lawyer and you had met him when you were the young age of nineteen, a mere baby. It definitely took some time for him to be ok with the fact that he would end up fucking you almost weekly with your given age — he’s not a pervert.. right? But you were a mature girl as you grew up, he liked you for this reason.. different and good for whatever he wanted and still you set healthy boundaries not letting him walk over your toes.

Time will pass nicely, right? He will be fine and move on — find someone even better. A little reflecting won’t hurt his soul.

It has been a little over two months since the grouch for a man has seen you, turning slowly into the twentieth century version for Scrooge.

Promising himself each day he would not give in and call you, you will be the one to run back.

He’s been saying that to himself since the day you up and left.. now his very once high and wild ego was now dwindling day by day and he is pissed beyond belief, because wow, wowww. You really did leave him as if he planned to do the exact for you in the beginning of meeting with you, that was before he caught a liking and it was only for your body, of course.

Yes.. that’s what is was. It was only really your gorgeous body that gave him pleasure to see you again and again, never mind the fact of your amazing personality or one of a kind glowing aura that brought a sweet genuine smile on his usual crest fallen features.

Broken from his reverie he’s receiving a call, he’s been sat still buried in his office since six am. It’s how he gets through his days to not think about you or testing the waters of calling.

The phone clicks and clatters, he needs to get himself a new desk phone or better yet just buy another smartphone. Huffing and puffing, he inhales and exhales seeing the caller id.

“Hello, it’s been awhile sir.”

It’s your father, he has to fake a front for the sake of niceties and also being civil because your very own damn dad has been using the Kim’s for any law or business relations since Taehyung was probably born, he’ll complain and grumble later on to a nice white wall of his.

“Oh yes! Things have been crazed.”

Taehyung really wonders about that, a hotel tycoon can only get so wild and crazed.. right?

“Hmm, I understand. What can I help you with.”

“Ah, Mr Kim. let’s get down to it—“ the grinch for a man licks and licks his lips again out of great big habit, becoming nervous of the lingering for just how long it takes this man to get to a point. Many clicks and clattering over the other line.. the older would continue.

“So, I need to talk through some paperwork with you regarding about merging contracts.”

“Go on, sir.” he can’t be this vague.. come on. Shouldn’t he know better than to speak so small about important shit, god help his ticking time bomb for patience being not a virtue.

Ping

If silence could kill it would be deathly here and now, he receives the paper work faxed over. A skim and scan later — Taehyung feels his heart plummet to places beyond his comprehension.

It’s just so now, he realizes your father has been blabbering about whatever this whole time.

“What is this all for?”

His eyes ogle and ogle for more than a few times he could count, reading the bold letters of “Marital License and Contract Briefing.”

“Well if it wasn’t obvious, our dear y/n is going to get married next month. We have set her up with the perfect man who is a well respected hotelier heir, a perfect match for our family.”

Of course.. of course your father would set you up with a person that is in the same position of business as him, you probably had no word or real say in this. God, why does he feel wrath and anger. He wants to rip his hair out straight.

He should be happy for you, your new husband to be probably feels like home in his arms.

So much that he bets he mends you with warm healing long hugs, and utterly disgusting kind smiles that remind you of honey mixed into sweet vanilla, your very two favorite things.

He continued to offer your father a tight-lipped smile as if he could see him through the phone, briefly looking up from the contracts on his computer screen — faxed papers sitting nice and crisped on his desk. He thinks it’s best he ends this call now before he yells off.

“Ok sir, I’ll look over them and we will discuss the terms and things that will be strewn.”

“Oh that is great to hear! I invite you over tomorrow for tea, we will discuss all of the paperwork then. Yes?”

He won’t allow himself to think about that, he will agree just to get off this damn phone call.

“Yes sir, I’ll see you then, good night.”

Click.

He’s here, he can’t believe he actually came.

Sat in the way too high ceilings for a living area, he will blame it on why he feels this nauseated. God, he knows you live here obviously. It’s been your parents odd and traditional rule until you were ready to move out when they thought it was best, you always said that was why you still stayed with them. What he didn’t know was the bizarre underlying conditions were marriage.

“Ah Kim, here we are.” The meeting begins and ends with the blink of an eye.

It went awful in Taehyung’s eyes, he really didn’t want to hear about you getting married off for a great three hours. It left the man wanting to seethe and bite his mouth off until the older would finally shut up to take a puff or sip of liquor.

Then on he tried to laugh with your father.. even when it felt as if pearly teeth might crack with only how hard his jaw flexed shut.

Your father welcomes the man to stay over for only awhile longer, he won’t accept it, kindly.

He has to get going.. because someone (Taehyung) couldn’t handle on what all just happened. While the hag of your father thought it was a good idea to step out and take a call.

15 minutes before

It’s been minutes now and your father isn’t back, Taehyung decides to dwell around with his eyes to gawk at the various family portraits hung from generations before and other astray framed photographs of little you and family.

He has the urge to trace his finger along the frames but he won’t, definitely not now.

“Tae..?”

Like clockwork, Taehyung’s head cocks in nanoseconds to the spiraled staircase you stood by, gripping on the bar to keep stance.

You look gorgeous right now, still the same as before. He can’t help but let his eyes trail over your legs, he’s no better than any other man. He decides he can’t stare for much longer though, clearing his throat to cock his head off to the side in mimicking a fake neck crack.

“Hello.” he decides on, licking lips for the trillionth time and resting hands into pockets.

Your stare doesn’t stutter elsewhere, you copy him yourself — licking lips except only slower and more tantalizing. Or that’s how he sees it. He hated confrontation, one of his favorite things about you though.. is you’d ask too many questions every time you were around. He’d act like he hated it, but bathed in the attention and attentive wide eyes you once had all for him.

It’s only none of the many questions you’d ask would ever provoke the man to deflect, bother him up the wall and make him drop you soon later in his own sheer annoyance like usual. It’s happened to others, he’s an asshole but he could care less because at least he is honest.

Seeing you now gives him bitter sweetness for deja vu, the memory to when he saw you for the first time when you were eighteen — never having an ounce of interest in you then. You were a pesky teenager though, ogling the man like sweet candy for your taking. Nothing unusual he hadn’t encountered before.. only ever moving forward to do his job and ignore it.

That helped some.

Both of you finally interacted properly then when you were twenty, clear that you had matured fast and you were well with holding good conversation. While.. your dear father ran around with his head cut off like a chicken and leaving a bored lawyer Kim to wait for set business meetings to be done, you were lovely company at least.

Then somehow.. something happened, the day where he took your virginity in your childhood bathroom — it was your 21st birthday after all.

It was almost too universal how the world wanted you two to be alone at this awful time. But the moment happened so fast maybe too fast if he wants to dwell on it now, only once comforting the weeping girl that trembled in his arms to have you seconds under his grasp.

You had to, just had to look down at him with those puppy dog eyes choking a mere sob of “Am I not important.. is that what it is Tae?”

God he hated how you said his name, so sweet and quiet. Full of vulnerability and sadness.

He couldn’t allow a pretty girl like you, sobbing over something so minuscule on her birthday, he had a great plan of course. Comfort? No.

Fuck the sadness out of you, it will do you well.

It’s shameful at how he’s too old for your young sweet heart that still had much to see and live.. he’s nothing but rotten fruit at best.

But why did he want to stay selfishly so.

Your eyes did it in for him, they always did..

Corny and sappy he thinks.

He tries to move on with the passing thoughts of why do you need to be claimed now when he was starting to think he could have tried. He hopes you had at least one passing thought yourself of the what ifs and hows.

Present

All but nothing of silence settles between the two of you, no words are exchanged past that.

Eventually steps dissipate further from him to hear, you leave after the stare off you both shared — thankfully your father interrupts.

It’s been a few hours since you last saw him, you knew way before he was going to dial your phone. Doing exactly this, after your third attempt to ignore the countless calls you press accept to hear the expectant drawl of your name in stupor.

You’re sure he’s grinning dumb and widely boxy, almost as if youth takes over for these very small tipsy minutes. His vulnerability is clearly yours now, it’s so viable at how bad he is vying for attention.

You prepare yourself, clearing your throat and speaking as clear and stern as one could be.

“Hello?”

“Hmmmhmm, hello.”

There’s a pause, awkward, but he’s drunk so he likely doesn’t recognize the rising tension.

“Yes, Taehyung?”

There’s a giggle..? Oh my god he just giddily giggled at your voice. No, no your heart isn’t doing backflips — you’re just concerned.

“At your door, open sesame.” you can hear him try to knock like a madman — even if there’s visibly a buzzer that’s meant to be there so insiders could hear from the size of your parent’s insanely huge home.

Drunk Taehyung doesn’t know that though.

Fuck well, ok you guess. Thank god your father isn’t home for the night — you begin to panic but you can dissolve situations fine, it’s your strong suit or one of the many of them at least.

You practically lunge from your bed to tumble over down the stairs, trying to keep him half entertained while you tunnel yourself to the door before the maids could see the odd sight.

Being quiet as you can be with unlocking the door, Taehyung makes it no issues to pull a dramatic scene. Already seconds in through the door staring you down, like any other would be scared of the predatory stare.

But this is Taehyung, he would never hurt you.

All you can do, Slowly watching him advance at you skittering back until you’re pressed to the wall. He doesn’t touch you, leaned against the victorian wall with each hand on either side trapping you between him.

He won’t stop there yet, drawling your name out in a drunken purr “Aw-huh. Angel, you got yourself stuck..what are we going to do now?" like no moral was ever created — toes curled into wooden floors from the deep baritone voice awakening all of your weaken senses.

You try, trying so damn hard and ignore it.

Staring hard into empty eyes, his bags are awfully visible and you wonder if he’s even slept lately.

You’re so tiny and frazzled by his abrupt actions, feeling him slide a warm hand up to your stomach to trail barely under your tits. The same said empty eyes sharpen at your slip of a pathetic whine, closing you into the wall a tad too close for comfort to make you both bump into each other’s chest.

“Wanna fuck this pretty cunt again.”

His words boom into you everywhere, from head to toe and places you wouldn’t like to acknowledge that throbbed with need. Doomed, definitely, that’s what you are.

You can only exhale feeling a warm shiver travel down your spine from the daring slip of drunken tongue. Able to pull enough strength to squeak a soft response “L-let’s lay down.”

It was your best bet to avoid from ruining your impending future, you won’t allow no more mishaps to happen. It’s all for your father.

He settled off with a hum, you were surprised he’d backed off. Maybe the man recognizing the nervousness in your tone, “Lead the way.”

It’s quiet now, too tense for your liking but you can’t do anything you think to help the off situation. Laid in your bed next to each other with a foot of space between your bodies.

It’s uncanny how alike this situation reminds you of some movie you watched with the man.

You feel like you’re steps away from saying the infamous line of “Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off.”

You won’t have a second to think longer when the big bear decides to speak up into the unknown of silence that had lasted for a long hour, “I get it.. yeah, you don't love me, big fucking deal.”

Silence, absolutely nothing back.

“I’ll never tell you how I really feel, angel.”

Your breath was being held for seconds until he decides to follow with cockiness, there it is.

Always showing a slip of vulnerability followed with the man being plain rude. It’s the way your eyes roll that cause a gasp to stutter from him, almost like he didn’t expect your attitude nor harsh yet honest reaction.

He won’t comment on it properly, never does.

“Hold me.” he mumbles while simultaneously grumbling, trying his definition in hard to get you closer than whatever.. this is. Your brow ticks at him head shifting to properly face his pouted features from his side profile, feeling up for the need to deny him only a bit.

“What? Stop mumbling.”

He won’t take a pause this time, thankfully.

“Hold me goddammit.” he huffs and puffs out even louder — yet incoherently all in the same breath. Taehyung coughs, trying to clear his throat and mocks you with a roll in his own eyes of annoyance, like you did something.

That time you did “hear” him and you did what was asked by the big grizzly bear, only you turned to him closer now — seeing that wry smile on his cruel but godforsaken pretty face.

The spiral begins, you and him are going to give into this hell of fire.. only letting it grow uncontrollable by the end of night.

Are you going to do well without me?

Are we ever going to be okay?

Will we ever be fine?

You were too good to be forgotten in his heart.

It was too quiet in this room, silent and tense.

Taehyung felt nothing but regret, fucking stupid as he closed his eyes and mumbled these pitiful words.

Stupid, as he continued to speak gibberish into the room. I feel stupid. I am stupid.

You finally give up on the swallowing of the never ending silence and endless mumbling under his breath, tongue dry trying to clear your throat so to maybe finally speak — maybe even summon him back, and he does. It works because he lets his eyes finally open back.

You tug him into your chest wasting no more time when there’s not much, arms wrapped tight around his stiff figure that takes only just a minute to loosen once he realized you weren’t going to push him back anymore.

It’s not much different though, his nails still pierced into his forearm with thin lips folded into teeth to feel anything but what this is right now. You were staring at him, Taehyung, your father’s lawyer, your first crush and realization that you really only like and desire older men.

Now wishing you’d rather have gone to therapy instead of pursue that day in the bathroom.

You don’t mean that actually, you just hate yourself at this very moment and so does he.

But this wasn't the Taehyung you knew, wasn't the same man with styled hair and sultry eyes.. looking now as real life death in your arms.

You weren’t trying to be harsh nor hateful, you were worrying your heart out and confirming all the racing thoughts you have figured to be maybe going on. Only for them to come to life. He looks unreal tonight, almost unnatural from his usual sun kissed skin. No more sharpness to his look, the man looks fucking sick.

You want to coddle him to death, your own heart feels like it’s going to lurch right out from it’s chest by any second now if he keeps looking at you with those sad puppy dog eyes. This was not the look you yearned to see, you hated it all so much.

“Well.” clearing his throat, trying to prove something into air. Maybe it’s a lawyer instinct.

You repeat back to him without a beat to really think, “Well..” you use the same tone of voice but maybe yours wavered more in raw pain. The man wordlessly continued to stare like always, holding your hand tight in his grip in bringing it up to his lips. You should reject his warm touch, leave even, run far.

But why are you still laying here.. melting away.

He was being this gentle and just careful, you would giggle if the situation weren’t tense now.

Long fingers playing with lips, digits ghosting over your cheek with a soft caress. You can’t help but shut your own tired eyes, melting more and more and it was just like that.

His control is gone, so fast and fluidly when your lashes fluttered to cold skin. Whispering his name too sweet and soft almost in prayer.

"We can’t.. it would be wrong.” it’s insane how you knew his intentions from the speed his hands traveled to the material of your night dress.

"So fucking wrong," he becomes almost too ready with heavy pants of hot breath kissing your jaw and neck.

Eager calloused thumbs rubbing circles into your hips that were on the brink of trembling.

You whine at the tone he uses, becoming easy to his invasion "Don't.. don't speak like that." Eyes heavy lidded, lips licking with each breath that exhaled from your stuttering chest.

He wants you dead it seems, feeling up your body more and more by every passing second before easy fingers would get to your chest.

"I'm wrong like that.. you like it," the man preaches with determined digits this time skimming back down onto your hips to hear his favorite strangled whines "you want it.”

"Ah.. T-tae” it’s pathetic.. sounding asthmatic in your own ears from mere fingers grazing you rough.

"Who's married? Certainly not you, yet."

You pause to mull it over, eyes falling into his.

He truly doesn’t care now, past gone. Nothing can stop this — you need him.. your sweet eyes tell almost all too fucking well for him to know.

He's moving on autopilot when he pulls you to him with no awareness of anything around him, the man frenzied with his only living goal to feel you wrapped around him. Whether it be with loose limbs or his all well endowed cock buried deep between warm tightness, he needed to feel you again.

Your gasps fall out too soft to be surprised at the sudden roughness, murmuring whining moans that fell into a mantra of "We can't..” tiny cries that quickly later start falling into hungry kisses while neither of you had an ounce of intention to stop, no matter the end of it.

Lips already collided against each other in a perfect mess of motion, tongues lolled out of your mouthes as the pleasure binds you both.

It’s disgusting now, strings of drool dribbling to your chest from every pause he took to pull and nip. The man grabs your scalp, yanking you head back against his shoulder. Jaw slack open to give him the prettiest mouth for him to gladly spit right down onto your tongue, so pathetic all for his demise.

Doing all the nothing but moaning and swallowing, open mouth with all your might.

Leaving a desperate plea in sparkly eyes while you wait impatient for his next move, you missed him. Eyes yearning and lips quivering, legs shaking so early on and yet.. your spine just might go limp quite soon.

You whine almost instantaneously and nothing less of desperate while the devious man began to nibble harshly down on your neck with small bites of love.

Moving on nothing but anger and bubbled feelings at surface, shoes being removed, with the stubborn zipper of your night dress slipping down from your shoulders as hungry lips explored every inch of skin that became exposed.

So quick, licking a wet stripe down your chest to stomach to feeling you shake with desire and need, tasting the want for you on his tongue.

“Hmm, your poor husband to be.”

He hated that, hated the fact that you were about to belong to someone. He knew he wanted and needed you to feel the burn that he had been feeling for months since then.

"I'm not t-telling," you can barely form a sentence let alone a proper sound that didn’t make you sound out to be like a deprived slut.

The man can’t do much other than scoff, you having the strength to use that reassuring tone— with such a soft tone and bat pretty doll eyes in lost of such easy pleasure given.

Looking this fucking gorgeous and it’s going to be all for someone else, not him ever “I know angel, not with the way i’m about to fuck you.”

Like clockwork you moan like a bitch at that, of course. Feeling him sink razor sharp canines down into the squishy flesh of your stomach.

Uncaring completely for the fresh marks, he would hope in your future meeting with that man.. you wouldn’t become so easy to show yourself off for him. Sliding his fingers from your stomach down over to your cunt, slipping long digits between sopping wetness — sticky as if you already had touched yourself earlier.

He’s growing impatient, on the aspect of stretching you out when he so gladly craves to stuff you four fingers full. But he’s a gentleman at his very best, always calling out for him in non-stop “T-tae..” or better yet “Touch me, I’m sorry, I’ll be good.” without any doubt he would answer “Anything for the angel.”

Your thighs already shake from the burn of /slowly/ fucking yourself on long fingers. Tears streaming, overwhelmed by the burning stretch that comes with each motion, soon quiet sniffles and soft gasps turn into sobbing when the man decides to snake his hand and start to tease and slowly circle your clit.

“So perfect, all for me, hm.”

You nod eager to please, blushing all the way down to your toes. Biting your lip, thoughts not holding very well against the feeling of the eager man’s middle finger now slipping out from you to part your cunt and stroke along the sore slit.

“Patient tonight? You must want it bad.” he sighs almost sounding bored, standing tall over you to undo the belt that once looped through his slacks. Long gone leather abandoned to the floor along with his slacks pooled at his ankles, ready, finally.

“You gotta be nice and quiet for me. Yeah? Can you do that for me?”

You’re way past desperate tonight, choking out a broken “Y-yes, fuck! Please.” wild hips winding up for more of the now lost touch.

The older plays coy, smirking lopsided and lazy, kneeling on the bed to line himself up to the pretty plump cunt. Long digits wrapped around his cock, "Open up for me baby."

She obeys immediately, legs opening wider to shakily wrap themselves around Taehyung’s waist. His hips up to slip his cock into the crease of your folds. Grinding there half tipsy now, leaky tip nudging at your clit.

Not wasting another second, the first push of stretch has you whining his name. Long nails piercing into taut honey skin, cock fucking in ruthless at the long thrusts that heat your core up, forming sweat down his neck and shoulders.

“Goood fucking girl.” He drawls with a husky moan, you want to die at how fucking hot he sounds.

He doesn’t care, going faster to no point of being coherent in your mind. Punishing strokes fucking the life out of you, snapping his cock right into your tight cunt. One hand bruised into your hip while the other slipped easily around your neck just enough to have you alert “Look me in the eyes when I’m fucking you.”

Lashes fluttering half open, looking with a fuzzy minded daze. Knowing you look like a slut, feeling drool drip everywhere along with the slickness between your legs. Coming to the reality you would let him do anything and you’d welcome it.

"Just like that baby, shit, taking my cock so fucking good," he grunts almost feral with every punishing stroke "Y-yes, " tiny voice choking out, slamming into you with hips winding harder if that was even humanely possible "Love it so much, I-love your cock.”

“Who’s a whore, uh? Who’s desperate for cock.”

“Tell me.” he growls slowing the roll of his hips into you to pull a desperate cockslut spill a mess of “Me, me, me.” you’re hyperventilating almost with how good he feels “M-me, I’m sorry!” god, the situation is a mess but he wouldn’t be lying if he wasn’t thinking about filling his load in you and pray to the man above that your birth control didn’t work.

feeling walls grow tighter and tighter, knowing the telltale signs you were about to cum.

“Perfect fucking girl, sucking me so tight.”

“S-stop..” you whine in embarrassment with a broken sob when you feel the devil himself sink deeper, balls deep inside you now.

Back and forth, back and forth.

An addictive dance, once friendly boundaries expanding to something that was speaking what will stay unspoken. Taehyung’s cock sliding so good inside your cunt you were dying with bliss for the night.

He can see you struggle to try and put a hand over your mouth, but the man won’t allow that. Snatching your hand in his grasp “Let her hear," he growls, referring to the maids and starts to fuck the life out of your cunt with no care for how loud you moan or scream.

"Y-your slut," you stutter, feeling him start to raise his hips to meet your weak attempt of grinding back, thrusting upward and matching your sloppy speed. "wanna b-be your slut."

His ego growing higher than before and dick hard as ever, Taehyung taunts, already knowing the answer by your dazed features.

“Oh yeah?” he pants grunting with every roll of his hips, and you can do nothing but give him what he wants. On the brink of tears you whine out broken moans, “So fucking bad, please Tae.”

“Come on." the taller’s strokes turning slow and hard, each one pulling a moan from sweet agape lips. "Cum on my cock.” you’re past coherent, cock drunk with drool slipping down your chin.

The ecstasy bursting through your body at an unimaginable rate,legs feel almost numb, smaller fingers gripping your sheets so hard. Taehyung already knew you would rip them off the corners of your bed, seeing how your own skin burned. Orgasm still sending ripples throughout your tiny body. Shaking as you came down from the high, cock buried deep, cum spilling inside as he keeps your body pressed together, skin to skin. His nose buried in the crook of longer sweaty strands of hair.

You begin to feel the feather kisses he mouthed over the expanse of your neck, his body quivering with the last of his cum filling you up.

“Fuck, yeah, ok.” is all he can do to respond, you can only hum in response as you’re being fucked so mind-numbingly good. Body moving along the bed as you’re fucked open for the year.

Your blissed-out state has the man feeling on top of the world, no case he’s won ever given him this much ecstasy for this feeling of high.

Knowing that the same woman he's been getting off to for months, that was only planned to be handed over to someone else is finally getting fucked. His pretty not so sweet angel drooling all for him, ruined for good by just his cock.

The floaty feeling back to how it was, only stronger than ever, the way Taehyung feels so right up against you.

He comes from his feverish moment of just drilling into you, no awareness for how overwhelming it may be. A smaller hand trying to grab his hand to make him stop, he sees nothing less of rage.

"Move your fucking hand.” he snaps with a hiss, snatching your hand in an iron like grasp.

“only I can touch you like this.” he states, hard and stern as if it’s a plead mixed into question. “Yeah?” of course he has to slap you for you to answer, braindead and cock hungry.

“Yes, all for you!” you squeal, body curling into yourself — he begins to dwell how there is not a real thought behind your eyes but his fingers and cock bearing your only passable thoughts.

He wants to laugh, your poor husband is about to be inadvertently about to be cucked.

You moan at how rough he’s being, every yank, spanking and slap getting you more than riled up. Rambling the typical ‘I love you, I love your cock.’

He’s aggravated, not sure why, deep down knowing. "Look at me and tell me what you want.” no way to receive an answer unless he squeezed a generous hand around your throat.

“Y-you, you, fuck!”

It’s not enough, he wants to laugh at his greediness that will not sate him ever.

Again and again, back and forth. Another slap landed across each apple red cheek, going harder each lashing.

“Again.”

You repeat yourself again, hm, still not enough.

He’s done with himself, frustrated and choosing to vomit his words.

“You’re mine, get that through your fucking head.” his thrusts were past hard and fast, bruising now. He grunted and groaned while you continued to moan and whimper beneath him, going so rough he decided to push your skull deep into the bed. Warm palm covering your face whole, feeling you squeeze involuntarily at being used like an object.

“Atta girl.” He didn't stop, not once. You weren’t asking to anyways just screaming his name for more — no mind here with nodding away into a mess full of bedsheets, trying to wind wobbly hips back on his cock to bounce lewdly.

Taehyung does nothing less but snap sharply against your ass, “So fucking tight, mine."

"C-cum in me tae," you moan, seeing white, reaching down blindly to rub your clit in frantic circles, begging at the idea of the older filling you with his cum. "Fill me up, give-give me a baby."

"Fuuuck," Taehyung growls and groans almost feral "Don't fucking say that shit."

"W-why not?" bratty whines beg “F-fill me up? Don't say that?"

Taehyung grunts, pulling you on him, chest to chest, you clamor to wrap shaky arms around his neck. Fuck, he’s holding you upright, bouncing you straight onto his cock. Falling forward with a squeal, crying in pleasure as the tip of his cock hits your cervix with how deep he is inside.

"Want my cum so fucking bad?" he hums, trying his best to sound unbothered. "I'll fucking give it to you then."

Your legs clamp around his waist as he pounds into you, cock hitting every point inside your body and you’re so close you think you’ll die. You feel Taehyung tense, and then a sudden gush of warmth fill you.

"Fuck me, angel. You feel so good." he gasps through l shut teeth spanking you with every thrust he gave.

At the feeling of him actually listening to what you always wanted, your orgasm blinds you in intensity, the tight coil in your stomach finally snaps. Body seizing, moans loud against his lips, whining a final tired cry to slow down.

The baby clip once stuck to hair now hung loose, the feeling of warm hands kneading hips before he would give harsh slaps to your ass.

"What do you think he would say," he spits out the name with nothing but disgust. “if he saw you like this?" He shifts his hips, "You think he'd ruin your orgasm?" tone patronizingly sympathetic. “Or.. let you cum so prettily, like you always do.”

He tsks at watching how disoriented daze eyes go through the five stages of grief. Writhing in pleasure as eyes fall closed, breath hitched when he finally lays you back down on the bed. Thighs sticky and all, he sighs at the sight.

“Want to show this cunt off to the world."

“Y-you can’t..” you pout, his eyes watching you fall apart all over again at just words being spoken to you.

“Good thing for secrets.” he smirks his mouth almost falling into a snarl, it wasn’t even spoken this would continue. One last time you agreed.. but you want him more than ever even if your situation is doomed.

“Bath?” he mutters with a whisper of soft kisses to your temple, you nod.

He grabs for his cigarettes, you hand him his lighter and wait until the deed was done so you could put them back off to the side again.

It’s been long since you both have took a bath together. He stretches his arms after he successfully calmed his nerves, you light the stick for him, eyes on him as he throws his head back to inhale. Blowing smoke out, body lazing while it filled with nicotine.

You like calm men, men who dont shout or break things when they’re upset. Men who talked to you in a gentle, low voice telling you what made them mad or what you did wrong.

That’s what Taehyung is to you, that’s what made you fall.. hard. You think it over all again in your current predicament, comfortable as ever.

Veiny caramel hands pulling your hips up in the bath for you to be settled nicely. A warm hand fondles your ass lovingly with his other taking puffs of smoke to inhale and exhale lazily, “My pretty girl.” he smiles lopsided before tugging your wobbly hips back down in relief, enjoying the way you whimpered and whined in your own way of retaliation.

Taking mercy before planting a wet kiss on your shoulder to whisper “I love you, Angel.”

Both of you decide on staying silent. Your back rests against his chest, deciding mutually to speak once the cigarette burnt into ashes.

“Does he make you feel safe, like I do?”

You don’t answer.

“I want you, you’re mine no matter what.”

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

You are married now.. being due with a fast wedding to no love involved, business as the main goal.

The meets with Taehyung continue and you two make time to fuck when you can — poor Namjoon.

It hurts he thinks.. hurts so bad. Because he’ll have to look at you every month when you come over to be fucked into whatever.

While he is out handling business, leaving him in the spot to fuck you hard and good like he can’t, at least he tried to convince himself of that for his own comfort.

You keep up with the old routine of pillow talk, just to feel the same mundanity this once all was. You think, he doesn’t care what you speak of after he only just poured his dull sad soul into fucking you.

Not caring at how you talk so highly of your new husband and how well you both are adapting with each other. Rambling all on about your blossoming relationship with him, hearing you nervously speak of the plans on having kids together.

Of course not nervous on his behalf, no, no.

Because you are deathly nervous about if you will be a good mother or not, he knows you will, even if things are like this. You think it doesn’t hurt him, when you say genuinely on how he’ll be the “Cool friend of Mommy’s” to your children.

It drives a knife deep into my heart on how you speak so highly of this new life, how well you are adapting. When.. we could have had this.

“Tae..? You there?”

He’s not caring to respond to your rhetoric question that was all well laced of genuine care and worry, Taehyung can be an asshole just this once.

“Do you know what you are?”

You think this is a game of teasing now, he can tell with that pretty smirk plastered on your gorgeous face “What am I, sir?”

It’s too bad that he’s being genuinely serious.

“You’re my girl.”

You don’t take a second to pause, you play into the narrative with a grin that quickly warped into an innocent and sweet smile.

“I’m your girl, Taehyung.”

He only knew that you meant the world to him.. and he, adored you in his mind until it hurt.

[sunkeji]

Hello!! If it alright can i request a tsukishima(+anyone else separately) x reader where the boys get a wisdom tooth removed so they're loopy and high from the meds and the reader has to take care of them?

a/n: I'm so sorry that I didn't get to your req sooner. If you're still alive and following my blog, I hope you have the heart to forgive me 🙏 also I'm trying a new format tee hee.

Tsukishima

My guy is dazed. I'm talking about his eyes looking hazy, and he's just staring at you. He's literally just staring at you with this sort of confused and serious face, like he's trying to figure something out.

He's got cotton balls stuffed in his mouth to apply the needed pressure, which makes his cheeks look a little puffy. His face right now is contrasting with his usual stoic expression.

Of course, you're going to have to take pictures to show him later to use as material for your teasing and because he looks absolutely cute.

Now he's still high and kind of loopy from the medicine that they gave him so I'm sure he's still feeling sleepy. So you opt to take a cab back to his home, and during this time, he's gotten a bit touchy. He's leaning against your shoulder while slumping in his seat as he fiddles with your fingers.

Fast forward to when you're in his room together. You helped settle him down in his bed after helping him change into a set of comfortable clothes. And of course, he treated you like some sort of pervert for wanting to stay while he changed. You just rolled your eyes and faced your back toward him.

You wanted to make him a smoothie to help with the soreness, or at least some soft foods that'd be easy for him to consume. But before you could do so, he had gently grabbed your hand and led you to his bed.

He was acting shy now, asking you to join him in bed. He obviously wanted to cuddle since he got out of the procedure and was just thinking of ways he could ask you to cuddle with him without actually asking.

Give your tsundere boyfriend some love, he becomes clingy and less emotionally constipated when he's feeling sleepy and high after all.

Bokuto

Just like Tsukishima, except he becomes 10 times clingier and acts like an overgrown baby.

As soon as he's out of the dentist, he's drooping himself all over you. It's like he's leaning almost all of his body weight against you, and mind you, he is no small guy. So it's not unexpected when you get some stares after leaving the dentist.

So it becomes a race against time to get him home before he collapses from the drowsiness or before he starts getting rowdy.

When it comes to him, forethought is necessary. Like booking a ride in advance to ensure your arrival back home wouldn't exceed 15 minutes because, as sad as it is to say it, you don't think your boyfriend can behave for more than that.

And you reach home just in time because, as soon as you step out of the cab, he's sulking about something. You're not sure what it's about this time, but you attempt to get him into the lift first.

You're so close to getting him into his house when he stops dead in his tracks and starts accusing you of not loving him. You don't know how he ever got to that conclusion. You make a sarcastic remark that breaks the dam, and he starts wailing.

You're panicking now, trying to get him into the house before any neighbors start to come out and investigate the source of the noise.

So in a last-ditch effort, you shove him the littlest bit into the house and shut the door. You turn around only to see him on the floor, sobbing and acting as if he's in a soap opera.

You sigh and just go into his bedroom to prepare the bed for him and clothes for him to change into. When you're done, you call him by his favorite pet name and promise him you'll cuddle with him until he's sober.

He perks up at the use of the pet name and scrambles to get into his room to change, and once he's done changing, he grabs you and tackles you into his bed until you're both snug under the covers.

Now he's bombarding you with questions about questions with obvious answers, like whether or not you love him, as he's nuzzling his head into you.

[chevroletdean]

you always meet twice ── ✮⋆˙🥃📞

pairing: dean x gn!reader genre: fluff, dash of angst if you squint to note/warnings: set around season 10, mentions of the mark of cain, dean being a grumpy old man, cute first meetings, miscommunication word count: 2.8k

a/n: this is random, i just wanted to write more fluff, since you guys were so nice about the last one. thank you again, i didn't expect so much positive feedback!

He swore that that giggle of yours could soften a demon’s black heart. He should know, having been one himself not too long ago.

You flashed him one last mesmerizing smile and slid something across the counter before you turned around and left the bar. His eyes lingered on you until you were through the door and out of sight. Only then did he dare to glance down towards your little goodbye gift, which he swiftly grabbed and carried back to Sam’s booth.

“Seriously?” Sam scoffed, the crooked grin on his lips reflecting a mixture of disbelief and belittling. “What is this, the 2000s?”

None of that seemed to bother his older brother, who was all toothy, boyish grin and lit up eyes as he proudly flaunted the napkin in front of Sam’s nose. Numbers were scribbled on it in black ink, clearly a phone number.

Was it a little old-fashioned? Maybe, but didn’t that make it all the more charming? Dean certainly seemed to think so and even though it must’ve been about 10 years or so ago since he last had anyone write their number down for him like this, he thought he deserved a sliver of joy.

“They even wrote ‘xoxo’ next to it, dude,” Dean boasted. “What’s that mean again, love and hearts or whatever?”

“Hugs and kisses, Dean. It means hugs and kisses,” Sam corrected him with a sigh. His brother was a lost cause.

The little symbols were about as cheesy as the act of the whole number on a napkin thing and Dean was eating it up with a giddiness that could only be matched by a lovesick teenager. You’d think after about two decades of acting like a flirtatious heartthrob, he’d either mature or be harder to impress.

“Either way,” Dean beamed proudly, “I’m still in the game.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up, but he refrained from any witty remarks and settled for a snort instead. It’s been a while since he’s seen Dean’s lips curled upwards – after a couple of rough weeks and many setbacks, it was good to see him smile again.

He’s been to hell and back, literally and figuratively, and after all the worrying about the Mark of Cain, recovering from being a literal demon, and the usual apocalyptic sense of dread, who was Sam to deny him his fun?

Turns out he’d have his little moment ruined hours later anyway, and not even by Sam or any of his teasing comments.

He must’ve slept horribly or maybe the lack of leads in this case was starting to frustrate him.

It was unclear what exactly caused the switch to flip, but the grin from last evening that had reached from one ear to another was nowhere to be seen anymore. Ever since they left the motel and drove into town, he was back to his grumpy self.

Sam nearly flinched as Dean slammed the door of the Impala shut a little harsher than necessary. Dean’s brows were furrowed in frustration as he practically stomped into the diner. His little brother followed suit, barely making it through the door while it was still open. They took a seat and ordered some breakfast.

Despite knowing he wouldn’t get an explanation, Sam tried anyway.

“What’s up with you today?”

Dean shot him a glare that not only signaled he’d refuse to answer, but could also suffice for straight up daggers. He took a demonstratively large gulp of his coffee. “Can we just focus on the case, Sammy?”

Focus on the case was rarely what Dean wanted to do, not when he had a potential fling going on anyway. Which could only mean one thing.

“No luck with your napkin sweetheart?” Sam teased, seemingly hitting a sore spot as Dean slammed the coffee cup back onto the table with a clatter.

“The case, Sam,” he repeated insistently.

Right on the money then. What else would rile him up into such an irritable mood?

Giving in — albeit he did a terrible job at concealing a gloating grin —, Sam booted up his laptop and went through the files. It was all pretty straightforward: Bunch of people went missing over the past few days, one of their bodies having turned up with their blood drained. Vampires, likely, though Sam and Dean had yet to find the nest or talk to anyone in relation to the victims.

“There’s this one college student that went missing two days ago, usually never misses a class or a shift at their part-time-job,” Sam spoke and turned the laptop around for Dean to look at the missing person alert. “We could split up, talk to one of their professors and a coworker.”

“Fabulous,” Dean grumbled, using his fork to stab holes into his slice of pie. His mind was clearly elsewhere. Presumably on a certain someone he had met last night – and was stood up by, apparently.

“Seriously, what happened?” Sam half-groaned, half-grinned. There was some genuine concern in his voice. Even if the situation was kind of amusing – it didn’t happen often that someone was able to humble Dean like this –, he knew his brother was on edge already.

Anger and bottling up feelings were always his specialty, but with the Mark of Cain still attached to his arm, they should probably not risk any major stress.

Dean grumbled something inaudible, half of his words swallowed by the coffee cup, the rim of which was pressed against his lips. Sam only thought he heard something along the lines of ‘wrong number’ and gave a confused “What was that?” in response.

“Whatever,” Dean groaned. “Any contacts, an address?”

Sam nodded and told him the address of the coworker. With Dean’s shitty mood, he’d rather not bring him to campus to scare away any freshmen. So, they separated for the time being, Sam heading to the university while Dean made his way to that address downtown.

On his way there, he fished for his phone again. And the napkin.

He had tried to dial the number earlier this morning and (much to his obvious dismay) the call had not gone through. He typed it in again, number for number, double-checking each digit individually. Maybe he had somehow gotten it mixed up in his half sleepy state earlier?

‘The number you have called is not available. Please check the number and dial again. The number you have called is n–’

Dean definitely didn’t get it wrong, comparing the number on his screen and the napkin again.

With a scoff, he shoved his phone back into his pocket, exchanging it for his F.B.I. badge instead. Grumbling to himself, his feet dragged him past a picket fence – each step heavy-footed – and up a porch, where he rang the doorbell.

As for why you’d trick him like that by giving him a wrong number, was beyond him. You could’ve just said no when he asked for your contacts, so why go through the hassle to be this mean about a rejection?

Unless he somehow had made you uncomfortable last night, although he could not for the love of it remember anything but your bright smile throughout the whole conversation. In fact, you had eagerly nodded when he offered to buy you another drink.

The soft creaking of the door disrupted his thoughts. By default habit, he already held up his badge, deciding to focus on the task at hand. Sam would be giving him a handful if he got too distracted during a case.

“Special Agent Murray, could I–?”

His introduction died on his tongue as his gaze fell upon a dazzling and oddly familiar smile. A heartbeat later and said smile vanished from those lips, which then twisted into a surprised O-shape.

“I don’t remember writing my address down,” you chuckled. Nervously. But not the kind of nervousness he would’ve expected from someone who had practically dumped him in the shittiest way possible.

The quip itself was somehow unfitting, considering those circumstances.

Who knew the coworker of the victim would be you, of all people, in a rather big town like this?

“Special Agent, huh?” Your smile was back on your lips, the intrigued spark in your eyes resembling that of last evening, and confusing him only further. “Am I in trouble, did I commit a crime?”

If handing out false numbers was a crime—

Dean cleared his throat and averted his gaze. He briefly fidgeted around with his badge, struggling to put it away again. Maybe that extra cup of coffee at the diner earlier was a mistake. As if it wasn’t already awkward enough. He wasn’t keen on making a fool out of himself further, so he decided to get this job over with as quickly as possible.

“I have a few questions about Daniel Anderson,” he said, tone dry as bone and honestly, rather hostile. “I take it you are his coworker?”

You blinked up at him, your smile fading once more. It was almost as if you were half-intimidated by his grumpy demeanor, but did you really expect a warm reunion?

“Uhm, yeah,” you mumbled, almost meekly, and opened the door further, stepping aside to make room for him. “Come on in, please. Would you like some coffee?”

Dean was led to the living room, where you gestured towards the seating options – a small couch and an armchair. Even though he just had about a gallon of it, he accepted your offer and settled on the couch.

While you were busy in the kitchen, he glanced around the room. A small but cozy living space and a pair of shoes kicked into the corner of the entrance that he definitely recognized. So you weren’t some lost twin of last night’s encounter.

“Excuse the mess,” you chuckled shyly, again with a warmth that exceeded his expectations. “I mean, you know how it is, I got home pretty late last night and have not had the chance to clean up yet.”

How come you were able to brush off this palpable tension with such ease? He was practically dying on the inside here while you, without hesitation, sat down next to him instead of the armchair and handed him the cup of coffee.

Dean once again cleared his throat, taking a sip of your coffee – as if somehow the caffeine could counteract his nerves instead of fray them further.

“About Mr. Anderson,” he began, clearly not wanting to dive into the topic of last night. If he didn’t know it any better, he swore he could see a flicker of disappointment in your eyes.

Your answers to his questions matched what Sam already found out. Your coworker was last seen coming to work three days ago, punctual as always, then wasn’t seen again. Apparently he had been the last to leave the office, which wasn’t unusual, since he’d often work overtime. A diligent guy, from the sounds of it, despite working only minimum wage and managing his studies at the same time.

“I thought I haven’t seen you around town before,” you hummed, eyeing him up and down briefly in a way that made him feel naked despite his suit. “No wonder, if you’re a federal agent working a case here. I gotta say, you can pull off a tie just as much as the flannel.”

That caught Dean off guard for several reasons. One being the fact that you were even more assertive when sober, apparently. The more obvious one, however, remained your previous rejection of course. He could not wrap his head around the concept of you flirting with him now.

You in no way looked anything remotely guilt ridden or embarrassed. If anything, your responses to his gruff attitude were mellow in fashion. And you still subtly brushed your knee against his despite everything. Were you messing with him?

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” you mumbled, hesitant for the first time today. “You can show up at my doorstep, but you can’t give me a call?”

Huh?

His widened eyes and the deadpan silence in the room seemed to go straight over your head.

“Well, I guess you’re busy with work,” you sighed with a crooked grin on your lips. “You should’ve told me, giving a special agent your number is kind of embarrassing.”

That was your problem, his line of work? Well, in that regard, he couldn’t be too hypocritical. He was as much of a special agent as your number was real, after all. Still, he was done with your games.

“I did give you a call,” Dean huffed. “Or tried to anyway, but you already figured that, I bet.”

Now it was your time to look all puzzled, at least until Dean pulled out phone and pocket. He dialed your number and put his phone on speaker. If in some twisted joke the third time would be the charm now, he’d feel really stupid.

But as expected, the error announcement came through the speaker once more: ‘The number you have called is not available. Please check the number and dial again.’

The color drained from your face first, before a redness crept up your neck. Your gaze flickered back and forth between Dean’s phone and his glare.

Then you burst out into laughter. Your cheeks were flushed in a bright pink while you hastily scrambled to find your own phone.

“You think this is funny, sweetheart?” Dean sighed, damn near pouting.

You didn’t reply, just snatched the napkin out of his hands. Your fingers were warm against his, since you had them wrapped around your own coffee mug moments earlier.

“Double-awkward, I gave a special agent the wrong number, oops,” you giggled and facepalmed.

Oops?

Dean was about to retort something, clearly unappreciative of the way you were still trying to make up excuses.

But you remained unfazed. More than unfazed: You reached out to his lapel, those warm fingers of yours wrapping around the pen in his chest pocket. All he could do was stay frozen in place as you crossed out the last two digits on the napkin and rewrote them above – in reverse order.

“You switched them up,” he mumbled, more of a realization than a question.

“I get clumsy when I’m nervous,” you smiled softly, rubbing the back of your neck and nodding apologetically.

You did not fail to notice how Dean’s eyes lit up again. That scowl, the harsh line on his forehead, they melted away. Some of that boyish, cheeky grin replaced his gruff facade.

“Nervous,” he echoed and his smug smirk confirmed his returned confidence. He had made you nervous last evening, huh?

“What did you think I needed that second whiskey sour for,” you giggled with that gentle edge that turned his heart into mush.

He knew right away that he wanted to see you like this more often, flustered, because of him no less. Enough to give you trouble thinking straight.

“How about you run a test-call, just to make sure I didn’t mix it up again,” you suggested.

It took him a solid three or so seconds to process your words and then he flinched, fumbling around with his inner pockets in too obvious of a desperation. Once again, he cleared his throat, realizing this must’ve been the dozenth time or so you got him this flustered. You really knew how to keep someone on their toes, whether it was on purpose or not, huh?

Dean dialed the updated number and surely enough, the buzzing vibration of your phone eased his anxiety once and for all.

“And here I was, thinking you were trying to mess with me,” he laughed breathlessly, to which your smile softened into a pout. Clearly you weren’t fond of the idea of upsetting him in this manner.

At least for a split second, before it widened into a mischievous smirk.

“I don’t know if that would go against the law,” you hummed teasingly, “But I’m an upstanding citizen and if you were to arrest me, I’d hope it would be under different circumstances.”

With that and a wink, you took the empty cups from the coffee table and made your way to the kitchen again. Like last night, Dean was left letting his gaze follow you until you weren’t to be seen anymore. As he snapped out of it, he stood up and headed towards the entrance.

“Call me if you hear anything from Daniel,” you smiled at him as you hurried to open the door for him. “Or, you know, in general.”

Dean chuckled briefly, the first time he’s laughed properly today, and gave you a nod. On his way out, he practically skipped his steps down the porch, to which you couldn’t help but grin.

By the time Dean met up with Sam again, he was humming happily to himself. Sam raised an eyebrow at his sunshine-giddy brother, scanning him up and down.

“What happened to you?”

“I’m still in the game, Sammy.”

links/credits: ao3 ──〃★ dividers ──〃★ request here taglist: comment with a green heart 💚if you want to be added to the dean x reader taglist from now on

[crystallinestars]

NSFW Alphabet - Moze

I didn't expect to like Moze so much, but his backstory and gameplay got me, so here I am. Hope Moze lovers enjoy these silly headcanons of mine. Despite his serious demeanor, I'm a strong believer that Moze gets flustered when faced with sexual situations. Also, in case someone is not aware, girth is circumference not diameter.

Moze x Fem!Reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Moze feels awkward about what to do after sex because he’s not used to being affectionate. You’ll have to guide him on how to proceed, such as pulling him into a cuddle or engaging in pillow talk (though he’ll be mostly silent).

Due to his love for cleanliness, as soon as you’re able to stand, Moze ushers you into the shower. If you convince him to bathe together, Moze will join you in the tub and help lather your body until you’re squeaky clean. If you offer to wash him in return, Moze will say that he can wash himself, but he won’t stop you if you do it anyway. He grows flustered if you wash him because he’s not used to being cared for in such a manner, but he secretly enjoys the attention.

After a bath, Moze always changes the bedsheets if you did it on the bed. If you did it on other surfaces, he cleans up whatever mess you two made.

If he sees any bruising on your skin or if you complain about feeling sore, Moze will bring you to Jiaoqiu for treatment. The assassin is not used to physical intimacy, so he worries he might have hurt you, and will feel guilty about it until told it’s nothing serious.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself, Moze likes very little. He was seldom shown affection as a child, so he never quite learned to love himself. Whatever body part of his you shower in praise is one he will grow to think slightly better of. You think he’s got a handsome face? Your words will float into his mind every time he looks in a mirror, and a little warm spark ignites in his heart when he remembers you like how he looks. You like his muscles? He’ll try a little harder and train for a little longer to keep himself in shape. You like his hair? He’ll keep that haircut forever. Your praise means a lot to him even if he doesn’t outwardly show it.

On you, he loves everything. Moze is generally not picky about physical appearance of his partners. Every part of you looks pretty to him because he loves all of you. Though if you held him at gunpoint and forced him to confess, Moze would reluctantly admit that he loves the shape of your legs. He likes admiring them when you wear shorts or short skirts, and seeing you in thigh-highs makes him weak.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His cum has a mild salty flavor and is a bit thick.

Moze prefers to use a condom to avoid making a mess and generally avoids pouring his seed on your face or other body parts, though if you’re really into being covered in his cum, he’ll entertain you. He makes sure you’re properly cleaned up afterwards.

As for your slick, Moze doesn’t mind getting it on himself since it’s yours. He’ll let himself get as dirty as necessary if it means making you feel good.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Before you became a couple, there was a time when Moze walked into your room to ask for an important document. Unfortunately for him, you were in the shower at the time so he was left to search for it on his own.

However, the bathroom door opened before he could find it, and you walked out wrapped in a towel. Out of instinct, Moze quickly turned invisible and slinked off to an inconspicuous corner of the room, heart pounding quickly in his chest. He didn’t know why he felt the need to hide because it’s not like he was doing something nefarious in your room, but a part of him worried you would get the wrong impression if you saw him there, and he really didn’t want you to think badly of him.

The assassin didn’t look in your direction while you waltzed around the room, gathering a change of clothes but his face was flushed scarlet simply from knowing what you were doing. He respected your privacy and remained looking at the wall, not wanting to stare at you like some kind of pervert while praying you wouldn’t discover him. Thankfully, you remained unaware of his presence up until you left the room, and Moze used the first opportunity he could to escape.

He tried really hard to put the event out of his memory because it was a huge source of embarrassment for him and will never admit it happened (unless you somehow find out and press him, to which he will confess to everything while dying inside).

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Moze has no experience whatsoever. Absolutely none. The man hasn’t even kissed anyone before. He’s got a general idea of how sex works, but up until getting together with you, he used to view it in a very scientific way. In his mind, it was just a process that led to the creation of children instead of something that a couple could do purely for the sake of fun and pleasure.

He didn’t even imagine having sex with someone one day, so when the possibility of being that intimate with you surfaced, Moze was at a loss. The first time you have sex might be a bit awkward and full of little hiccups because he isn’t too sure about what to do. He knows the general process, but it’s the details and intimacy that he struggles with.

After your first time, Moze does research on bedroom skills so he can improve for next time and pays rapt attention to any directions you give him. He’s invested in making the experience a good one for you and becomes intimately familiar with all the ways you like being pleased.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Moze enjoys sex against the wall. Pinning you against the wall with his body with one of your legs hooked around his waist is usually his go-to position, though he also enjoys lifting you by the hips so you can wrap both legs around him. He’s strong enough to support your weight for the entire duration of the lovemaking.

Despite his shyness at showing his face to you during coupling, Moze really likes positions where he can easily see your face. Cowgirl and missionary are some of his favorites for this reason. He likes seeing your face because it makes sex more intimate for him, plus it helps him gauge how good he’s making you feel. He also does variations of missionary, such as hiking one or both of your legs onto his shoulders or pressing your knees to your chest for a deeper penetration.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Despite his serious demeanor, Moze is unintentionally goofy. He might recite a sex fact or a lame joke he read online with the most serious tone of voice and expression all while trying to please you and ruin the mood. He means well, but some of the things he says are so unexpected that they can be unintentionally funny (or cringy).

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He clean shaves to keep that area orderly. If he did keep hair, then it would be regularly trimmed short and the same shade of gray as his hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Due to his upbringing, Moze never learned how to be open with his feelings or how to accept love and care, so he struggles with this in his life. Sex is no different.

Being expressive and affectionate is foreign to him because he learned to restrain his emotions, so he doesn’t shower you with odes of love and flowery compliments. He expresses his love for you in a different way. It manifests in eye contact during sex, pressing his body closer to yours until you’re practically flush together, holding your hand, and leaving a simple but lingering kiss on your lips after the act. Once he learns to open up more, Moze incorporates long and deep kisses into your lovemaking and holds you tighter to him, as if he is a man starved for you.

Even without the physical cues, the fact you are allowed to see him at his most vulnerable speaks volumes to how much he trusts and loves you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

If he needs to de-stress, Moze usually cleans to clear his mind, but on rare occasions, he masturbates to relieve tension. He feels a bit dirty afterwards, especially due to how messy masturbating can be, so he doesn’t do it often. However, after he fell in love with you, he was embarrassed to discover his thoughts strayed to you when he masturbated. It was never anything too lewd, mostly images of how flattering your body looked in that nice top you once wore, or the way your pants hugged your legs, or imagining it was your hand instead of his pumping along his hardness. Moze is usually good at being very quiet when masturbating, but when his thoughts stray to you, he lets out breathy gasps and even a moan when he climaxes.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Moze is pretty vanilla. Even if he had a wealth of sexual experience, his kinks would still be tame. He likes your legs, so anything that highlights their shape would appeal to him. Short skirts, shorts, and thigh-highs are just some of the things he likes seeing you in. He’s also a fan of seeing you dress up in flattering lingerie. It doesn’t even have to be sexy, just something cute that flatters your figure will have him thinking you’re beautiful and make him eager to feel your body.

Adding on his love for your legs, Moze is into thigh sex. If you’re okay with it, he would like to bury his cock between the flesh of your thighs. The squeeze of your soft thighs around him is both an erotic sight and sensation for him.

Moze also enjoys cosplay. He likes it when you wear something both sexy and cute, like a maid outfit or cat ears. He thinks you look tantalizing dressed up like that. If you ask, he’s willing to dress up for you as well. Stuff like formal/business wear, butler suits, glasses, a doctor coat, etc… are alright with him, though more provocative outfits like bunny suits would be too embarrassing for him to wear. Don’t ask Moze to roleplay, though. He’s not good at it.

Other kinks he’s into are body worship and praise. Once he grows comfortable with sex, Moze worships your body with his hands and lips, kissing and caressing every part of you because he genuinely appreciates your figure and the fact he’s lucky enough to call you his. Receiving the same affection on his own body will make him feel conflicted at first. As mentioned previously, Moze was deprived of love and affection when he was young, so receiving it feels foreign to him. If you take it slow and ease him into the experience, he will let you pamper his body and find a strange sense of enjoyment from it. If you combine your reverent touches with some praise, he will be deeply touched (more on this in Wild Card).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Strictly at home. Moze doesn’t feel comfortable having sex anywhere else. In terms of locations in the house, he’s fine with almost anywhere, though he does favor the bathtub and bed.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Moze is a simple man. If he sees you in revealing clothing or things like swimsuits/lingerie, he grows flustered and pops a boner. Teasing or directly expressing your interest in having sex with him is another thing that easily gets Moze going. Feeling desired by you in an instant turn-on for him.

One other thing that gets him going is seeing you pleasure yourself. Whether he stumbles upon you by accident, or you purposely play with yourself to seduce him, Moze won’t be able to resist such an erotic sight. He’ll want to join in and help you get off, but only if you allow him. Seeing you feel good makes him feel good in turn.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Sharing is a no-no. You’re very special to Moze, and he hopes he’s equally as special to you as you are to him, so having sex with a third party ruins the illusion of your special relationship. Plus, he doesn’t want anyone other than you to see him in such a vulnerable state. He also doesn’t like the idea of sex in public places because he’s a very private person by nature.

Losing control over his body scares him, so Moze dislikes things like bondage and blindfolding. He’ll entertain you if you want that done to you, but he’s not comfortable with having it done to him. He also finds watersports gross.

Moze also refuses to get rough with or degrade you. He doesn’t want to hurt you and won’t find it enjoyable to do so. Another thing he doesn’t do is roleplay, but it’s less because he dislikes it and more because he sucks at it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

The first time you gave Moze a blowjob, he was caught by surprise due to how good it felt. His knees felt weak, and he had to fight to reign in his desire to orgasm right then and there. It was probably one of the few times when you heard him let out a loud, strangled moan and saw his reserved expression crumble into a pleasured one. The sensation of having his dick sucked for the first time was new and intense, which is why it had such a strong impact on him. Moze comes to love receiving blowjobs even though he’s too awkward to openly ask for them. There’s something erotic about watching you work your mouth over him, though he tends to avert his gaze out of fear of cumming too quickly from the sight.

When it comes to eating you out, Moze may lack experience, but he makes up for it with enthusiasm. He desires to make you feel good, so he gives it his all in learning all the spots that drive you wild. He pays rapt attention to your guidance in how you like to be eaten out and relies on your feedback and moans to tell him which pressure and speed you enjoy most. Moze quickly memorizes how you best like to feel his tongue in your pussy, which speed and pressure of flicks you enjoy against your clit, and the suction which makes you moan loudest.

If you squirm a lot due to his ministrations, Moze will pin your hips down, so you won’t interfere with his task. He won’t stop until he makes you orgasm, though if you tug at his hair and say it’s too much for you, he’ll stop. When he eats you out, your sounds and reactions can cause Moze to pop a boner and unconsciously grinds his hardness against the mattress.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

His go-to pace is slow, especially when he first starts having sex. Since everything is so new to him, Moze wants to take it slow so he can get used to the act of sex and learn what you’re both comfortable with. If you’re comfortable with a moderate or even fast pace, Moze can adjust and go faster to meet your needs.

Whether he wants it fast or slow depends on his mood. If he’s horny, he’ll want to go faster to chase after his release, but if the mood between you is intimate and sensual, he’ll opt for slower thrusts. At the end of the day, he will always go at the pace you want instead of what he wants because his goal is to make you happy.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Moze can go for quickies. If either of you get horny but there’s not enough time for a proper session of sex, then he is willing to indulge in oral sex, thigh jobs, or a quick fuck to satisfy the lustful cravings. He loves the emotional intimacy that comes with your regular lovemaking, so he does prefer longer sessions.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Moze is highly cautious by nature, so he is reluctant to take serious risks like exhibitionism or doing things that could result in injury. However, due to his inexperience, he’s also open to trying new things, especially if they’re something you’re interested in. He’s willing to try most things at least once as long as they don’t endanger either of you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Moze trains a lot, so his stamina is quite high. He can last for a long time, outlasting you by a long shot, but he stops if he senses you’re tired. He can easily last for 3 rounds, but rarely goes for more than that since you can’t keep up with his stamina.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Moze doesn’t own any toys. He’s embarrassed by the thought of using one and thinks they’re not necessary for him to feel good.

If there are toys you like using on yourself, Moze will learn how they work and will incorporate them into your sessions. As long as it makes you feel good, he’s willing to do almost anything to indulge you.

If you want to use sex toys on him, Moze will be hesitant and wary at first, but with some coaxing, you can convince him to give them a try. Moze prefers to keep things simple, so BDSM gear and whips are not toys he enjoys, though he ends up enjoying vibrators more than he thought he would. Still, sex toys are not really his thing, and he prefers to have sex without them (unless you’re super into them).

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Moze is straightforward by nature, so he doesn’t tease you in the bedroom. Edging isn’t something he considers because his mission is to make you feel good and bring you to orgasm, and that’s exactly what he sets out to do. He’s also terrible at dirty talk and verbal teasing (he doesn’t know what to say, or if he does say something, it sounds cringe), though he might make an amused remark if he sees you’re very eager for him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Having lived most of his life mastering the skills of being imperceptible, Moze became skilled at keeping his voice and breathing very quiet. The most you hear from him during sex are ragged breaths, muffled moans, and questions if you’re feeling good. With some encouragement, he can be convinced to let his voice out more, but it feels more natural for him to suppress his noises. If you can get Moze to lower his guard and just enjoy the moment, he might let out low moans. They’ll still be quiet, but at least more audible.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

The first time you had sex, Moze almost cried. Ever since he could remember, he was deprived of love and affection. Being orphaned and then tortured and treated like a tool by his “family” at the Sanctus Medicus had taught him to suppress his needs and emotions. When Feixiao rescued him and gave him a second chance at life, he grew used to being called a weirdo and feared by people.

But here you were, touching him so tenderly as if he were something precious instead of a terrifying tool of murder. You marveled at his physique in a way nobody ever had before and whispered how handsome he looked despite all the scars. You kissed his skin so softly, seeking out with your lips and hands all the spots on his body that sent jolts of pleasure through him.

Moze had never been treated with such gentleness and care before, and the attention overwhelmed him. The tender touches and sweet compliments felt foreign yet so good, and when you said you loved him, his eyes involuntarily teared up, though he suppressed the urge to cry. Your affection touched him deeply, and it was scary how vulnerable you made him feel, so Moze asked you to stop.

However, afterward, he caught himself wanting to be touched and praised like that again. It had felt scary at first, but a part of him craved to feel that loved and cherished again. In the subsequent times when you worshipped his body, little by little, Moze learned to relax and enjoy being pampered. It still overwhelms him sometimes, and the vulnerability makes him uneasy, but he also trusts and loves you, so he feels safe exploring this part of himself with you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

13cm (5.1 inch) in length and 9.5cm (3.7 inch) in girth.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Prior to getting with you, Moze’s sex drive was low. Once you became a couple, Moze’s drive rose, so he now craves sexual intimacy about 2 times a week. He can go for more frequent sessions if your sex drive is higher than his because he’s just that eager to please you. His self-control is high, so if you’re not able to have sex for whatever reason, he can easily suppress his urges.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It’s rare for Moze to immediately fall asleep after sex. Usually, he waits until you fall asleep first before allowing himself to rest. There are also times when he has to leave for business reasons, so he doesn’t have the luxury to sleep or relax.

For the first while, Moze will be uncertain and hesitant about cuddling and hugging, so you will have to initiate if it’s something you want. Once he gets used to it, he will drape an arm around you and pull you close to his side or spoon you from behind. He’s a light sleeper and tends to stay in one position throughout the night, so if you move in your sleep, he’ll instantly wake up.

Moze enjoys it when you hug him and rest your head on his chest or shoulder and fall asleep in that position. He finds it comforting to be held by you, and think you look cute cuddling him like that.

[urdreamydoodles]

Remy LeBeau (Gambit) x Fem!Reader (Smut)

Remy checking you out (Smut)

You and Remy LeBeau enjoy a flirtatious night in New Orleans, filled with playful banter and undeniable chemistry. As the night progresses, the tension between you both reaches its peak, leading to an intimate and passionate encounter.

Warning: public sex, oral sex fem!receiving & fingering

The early evening sun bathed New Orleans in a soft, golden light, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets as the city began to transition into night. You could hear the distant sounds of jazz filtering through the air, the lively hum of conversation, and the occasional burst of laughter from nearby cafés and bars. It was the perfect night for what you had planned—meeting Remy LeBeau for a date.

Remy was late, of course. But you were used to that by now. He never seemed to be in much of a rush, always moving with that signature lazy confidence that made him impossible to stay mad at. And even now, as you waited, you found yourself smiling, the anticipation of seeing him again fluttering in your stomach.

Tonight was special. You had picked out an outfit that you knew would catch his attention, something that hugged your curves in all the right places and emphasized your natural beauty. You knew Remy would appreciate it—he always did. But tonight, you wanted to leave him speechless. You had spent more time than usual on your hair, your makeup, and everything else, wanting to see the look in his eyes when he saw you.

As you waited on the corner of a quiet street, your fingers fidgeting with the strap of your purse, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. Instinctively, you turned, and there he was—Remy LeBeau, the infamous Gambit, strolling toward you with that same lazy grin that could melt hearts from across a room. His long coat billowed slightly in the evening breeze, and his hair, tousled and wild as always, fell into his face, giving him an effortlessly roguish look.

“Chère,” he drawled as he got closer, his voice dripping with that familiar Cajun accent, “ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

You felt a surge of warmth rush through you at his words, but it wasn’t just what he said—it was how he was looking at you.

Remy’s red-on-black eyes raked over your entire outfit the moment he laid eyes on you, starting from your heels and moving slowly, deliberately upward. You could feel the heat of his gaze as if it were a physical touch, his eyes taking in every detail of your outfit with unspoken admiration. He didn’t try to hide it, either. Remy had never been shy about letting you know exactly what he thought, and tonight was no exception.

His gaze lingered on your legs for just a moment longer than necessary before moving up to your hips, his eyes narrowing slightly as if appreciating the way the fabric of your outfit clung to you in all the right places. You felt a blush creep up your neck, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you watched him watching you, the tension between you building with every second that passed.

When his eyes finally met yours again, there was a spark of something darker, something more intense, behind his usual playful smirk. “Mon Dieu,” he murmured, stepping closer, his voice a little rougher now, “if I’da known you’d be lookin’ dis good, I’da shown up early.”

You laughed softly, though your heart was pounding in your chest. “Late as usual,” you teased, your voice light but filled with affection. “I was starting to think you forgot.”

He smirked, his eyes never leaving yours as he stepped even closer, the scent of him—cigarettes and something darker, like leather and spice—filling the space between you. “Forget a face like yours? Non, ma belle. I been thinkin’ ‘bout nothin’ else all day.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself instinctively stepping back, your back pressing against the wall of the building behind you. Remy followed, his tall frame towering over you as he placed one hand on the wall beside your head, effectively trapping you between him and the wall. But you didn’t mind. In fact, the way his body was so close to yours, the way his gaze never wavered from your eyes, only made your pulse quicken.

“You lookin’ too fine t’night, chère,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with that teasing edge you knew so well. “Can’t blame a man for wantin’ t’take his time, no?”

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry as his gaze flickered down to your lips, his own lips curling into a wicked smile. He was enjoying this—enjoying the effect he had on you, the way your breath hitched when he got too close, the way your heart seemed to race whenever he looked at you like this.

“Remy…” you began, your voice barely above a whisper.

He raised an eyebrow, his hand still resting on the wall beside your head, his other hand now reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered against your skin, the touch sending another shiver through you. “Oui, ma chère?” he asked, his voice teasing but with a rough edge to it that sent your heart racing.

You tried to keep your voice steady, but it was hard when he was looking at you like that—like he wanted to devour you whole. “We’re supposed to be going to dinner,” you reminded him, though the words came out weaker than you intended.

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin. “Dinner can wait,” he murmured, leaning in just a little closer, his lips dangerously close to yours. “I’d rather enjoy de view right here.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his hand slid from your ear down to your neck, his thumb brushing lightly against your pulse point. You were sure he could feel how fast your heart was beating, how your entire body seemed to be reacting to his every touch, his every word.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the world around you fading into nothing as the tension between you crackled like electricity. Remy’s eyes were half-lidded, his gaze heavy as he looked down at you, his lips barely an inch from yours. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the closeness of his body making it difficult to think straight. Your whole world had narrowed to this one moment, this one person. He was all that mattered.

You weren’t sure what would have happened next if someone hadn’t coughed loudly from behind him.

Remy turned his head, glancing over his shoulder with an annoyed expression, though it only lasted a moment before softening into a smirk. “My apologies,” he drawled with a chuckle, glancing back at you, “looks like we got us an audience.”

You peeked around his body to see an older man and woman standing a little ways down the street, both of them eyeing Remy suspiciously. The older man had his arm around the woman’s shoulders, and they both looked like they were trying to get somewhere. But it was clear that they didn’t want to get any closer as long as Remy was in their way.

Remy watched them for a moment before turning back to you. He had a mischievous look in his eye, his grin curling up at one corner. “Guess we better get outta here, no?” he murmured.

Without waiting for your response, he reached down, sliding a hand behind your knees before scooping you up into his arms. You yelped in surprise, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep yourself steady. And then he was walking, moving down the alley toward the next street.

But he didn’t stop at the end of the alley. Instead, he kept moving, bringing you further and further into the deserted alleyway.

“Remy, what are you doing?” you asked, your brow furrowing with confusion.

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze flickering around the alley, looking for something. After a minute or so, he found what he was looking for—another side alley, this one completely deserted and lined with tall walls on either side, the only way out at the very end. Remy turned, striding toward it with purposeful steps.

You squirmed in his arms, looking around the deserted alley. “What’re you doing?” you demanded, frowning.

“Give me a minute, chère,” he drawled, still walking, his eyes on the path ahead. “Promise you’ll like it.”

A moment later, he stopped and set you down against the wall. And before you could open your mouth to complain, he was kissing you.

Remy knew how to kiss. He’d always known how to kiss. But this was different. There was something deeper to it, something more urgent. He pressed against you, pinning you to the wall as his lips claimed yours in a bruising kiss that left your head spinning. You clung to him, gasping as he drew back for a moment before claiming you again.

His hands skimmed up your thighs, slipping beneath your skirt with a quiet rustle of fabric. You gasped at the feeling of his calloused palms against your bare skin, but before you could catch your breath, he was moving again, his hands sliding up your back to slip beneath the waistband of your panties. He cupped your bottom in a firm grip, pulling you close as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing the seam of your lips.

You were breathless, dizzy from the kiss and from the feeling of him holding you so close. Your legs were trembling, your mind swimming with sensations. All you could think was "yes". Yes to whatever he wanted.

Remy seemed to sense it, his lips curling into a triumphant smirk against yours as his hands began to slide downward, slipping beneath the hem of your skirt once more. He broke the kiss, trailing his mouth along your jaw and down to the sensitive skin of your neck, the words "Mon dieu" escaping him in a low groan as his fingers brushed against the damp fabric of your panties.

“Remy,” you gasped, your hands clutching at his shoulders, “Remy, wait—”

“I ain’t waitin’ no more, ma belle,” he murmured against your skin, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric of your panties to tease lightly at your entrance. You gasped again, your head falling back against the wall.

“You’re so wet,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “Like you been waitin’ all day for this.”

You swallowed, a whimper escaping you. “I have,” you admitted.

He groaned softly, the sound sending a shiver through you. And then his mouth was on you, his teeth scraping against your skin as he dragged his lips down to your chest, pausing only to claim one of your nipples through the thin fabric of your top.

You gasped at the sensation, your whole body trembling with need. And Remy seemed to know exactly what you needed, his touch becoming more insistent, his teeth biting lightly at your nipple through the fabric before his hands moved downward, his fingers teasing at your entrance before sliding in to the hilt.

You moaned, your body bucking against his hand as he began to pump in and out of you in a slow, torturous pace that sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. You could hear your own ragged breathing echoing in the deserted alley, feel your heart pounding in your chest.

Remy broke away from your chest with a soft groan, his red-on-black eyes flashing up to yours as his fingers continued to work you. “God, chère, you look so fuckin’ good,” he murmured huskily, “you like this? You like when I finger you like this?”

“Mmhm,” you whimpered, your head falling back again, your eyes fluttering closed. “Feels so good.”

He chuckled low in his throat, his hand slowing as if savoring the way your muscles clenched around his fingers. “You feel so good, baby,” he muttered, his voice low, “so good…God, I could stay here all night.”

It wasn’t what he said that got your attention, however. It was what he did next.

With one smooth movement, he dropped to his knees, his hands withdrawing from your panties before reaching up to hike your skirt upward. His eyes were half-lidded as he looked up at you, his gaze heated. “Don’t wanna rush things, chère,” he muttered. “Want to enjoy it.”

And then he was leaning in, his lips brushing against your inner thigh.

You gasped, your eyes flying open as his breath washed over you, the sound of your own panting echoing off the alley walls. Remy’s mouth felt hot against you, his lips moving in gentle, teasing kisses against your inner thighs as his fingers moved back to your panties, easing them down to mid-thigh before grasping one of your legs to drape over his shoulder. You could feel your cheeks flush, the feeling of being exposed so completely sending a thrill through you.

Remy glanced up at you, his red eyes flashing with something dark. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured. “I love lookin’ at you. Can’t wait t’taste you.”

His mouth was on you again before you could even register his words, his lips brushing lightly at your clit before his tongue came out to swipe at it in a featherlight touch.

You cried out, your whole body shuddering as his mouth began to move against you in slow, deliberate strokes. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced. Remy’s tongue was wickedly talented, the way it danced against your clit and the rest of you sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close as your body began to tremble. He groaned softly against you, his mouth moving faster, his tongue circling against your clit before beginning to flick rapidly back and forth. The feeling was exquisite, a feeling like you were on the very edge of something incredible.

“Remy—oh god, Remy, I’m going to cum,” you gasped.

His mouth never stopped, his tongue still working magic against you as one of his hands slipped back beneath your panties, his fingers beginning to thrust inside you in time with his tongue. You cried out, your nails digging into his scalp as your entire body began to shake, pleasure coursing through every cell in your body. You came hard, gasping his name over and over again as you shuddered against him, his tongue never stopping as he brought you to the very edge and then pushed you over.

You were still trembling when he finally pulled back, his red eyes burning with something dark as he leaned in to kiss your thigh again. He stayed there for a moment, his face pressed against your inner thigh as you caught your breath, your mind still reeling from the orgasm that had just rocked your entire world.

When he finally stood, it was with an unholy grin on his lips. “Mm,” he murmured huskily as he pulled your panties back up, his fingers trailing up over your bare thigh to the hem of your skirt, “I knew you’d taste like heaven.”

You blushed, unable to stop it, though his words sent another shiver of pleasure through you. It wasn’t often that Remy got serious with you. Most of the time, he treated you like you were both kids, teasing you mercilessly and treating everything like a big joke.

But in this moment, he didn’t look like he was joking. In this moment, the look in his eyes was dark, his face closer to yours than it had been in a long time. You could see every fleck of color in his eyes, every eyelash, every line on his face. And when his mouth brushed against yours in a soft kiss, you could taste yourself on his tongue.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, breaking the kiss. “Mon dieu, you’re incredible.”

You swallowed, feeling another blush rise up your cheeks. “So are you,” you murmured back.

His smile faltered for just a moment, something darker flashing behind his eyes. But then he smirked again, leaning in to kiss the tip of your nose. “Dinnae frett, chère. I ain’t never gonna forget dis night.” And with that, he stepped back, offering his arm. “Shall we go t’dinner?”

You blinked, your mind still half-dazed from everything that had happened. But as you took his arm and let him lead you from the alley, you realized that it didn’t matter. As long as you were with him, anything was possible. Anything at all. And right now, that was all that mattered. The world could wait. The only thing you wanted was more of this, more of him, more of the way he made you feel. And you knew he could deliver, every time, without fail. He always did. He always would. And as he led you out of the alley and back into the bustling streets of New Orleans, you knew that this night wouldn’t be one you’d ever forget, either. Not in a million years. Not with Remy LeBeau on your arm.

[mockingkatniss]

NEED A RIDE? - drug dealer!Coriolanus Snow

18+ | nswf | mdni

warnings and tags: swearing, mention of drug dealing, smut, sloppy making out, multiple orgasms, blowjob, mention of gagging, body fluids, use of words like “wh0re” or “slu7”, specific body descriptions. BUZZCUT CORYO (little bit of a jump-scare for some of y’all) MODERN!AU, p in v sex, reader is just soft but not innocent, intese sex, porn without plot. (If I missed anything lmk).

(not proof read because I was tired, I will fix eventual errors <3)

summary: one particularly hot summer evening coryo sees you riding your bike while he’s driving he’s car around mindlessly and he ask you if you need a ride.

words count: 3.109k

Wanted to thank so so much @swiftiekisses because the drug dealer!coryo au it’s hers but she inspired me a lot and I also love so much her writing that I wanted to contribute with this fic! Also a big thanks to @euphemiaamillais because I’m literally addicted to what she writes and for inspirations for the drug dealer! au too! <3

enjoy and support me with a comment or a tiny heart! 💗🎀

coriolanus was driving by the quiet and deserted road of his god forsaken forgotten little town.

he hoped almost every morning to just wake up and found his rotten little city was torn down by some natural catastrophe.

he thought that dreams or ambitions couldn’t come true here. since his family lost everything due to his father's poor life choices, he was now stuck with poverty at 18 years and a cousin and grandmother to look after. more correctly just grandmother, since tigris left for college just the year prior.

to round some money he worked at the gas station, a literal hell hole in summer and plus coryo was sure he left part of his soul here, and sold some drugs to younger kids or kids his age at school or at parties but most of the times they directly came to the gas station.

if a drug had a name it was mostly probable that coryo had it to sell

that summer was cruel, sweat sticking to clothes and the asphalt so hot it could melt shoe soles, so cruel that coryo decided just two days ago to buzz his beautiful platinum curls off. the super short hair gave him a totally new appearance, he noticed that at the last party he went to sell, that mostly girls bought from him, stucking dollar bills inside his front jeans pocket and sometimes begging for a kiss or some good old make out. he accomplished and accepted that he was just extremely hot.

his car moaned underneath him as he drove, that old piece of garbage was still going on but coryo feared that someday he would be left walking.

it was 7:35 pm, his shift at the gas station over since sejanus plinth took his place for the night shift. sejanus was a nice kid, he was rich but decided to take another path just having shitty jobs during the summer like most teens even though for him it wasn't necessary having one. he didn’t sell drugs but he covered coryo so many times at school or at work so he was ok.

coryo had a small joint hanging from his lips as he drove, just one hand on the steering wheel and both the car’s windows opened since his ac was (obviously) broken, but even the air was heavy and warm that night.

miraculously the bluetooth radio was still working so he was listening to some trap rap music on his cracked up phone, the screen broken from everytime he made it fall while running away from cops or simply on the floor on a daily basis. as the music went on he thought about how the suggestion to listen to that genre of music came from clemensia e arachne at school, but it was nice for once not only listening to metal or punk rock.

while he took another hit from his joint something caught his eye on the road. it was a bike, someone was riding it and he probably knew who it could be.

the bike was faded pink with old stickers on it and you were riding it tiredly, legs sore and sweat sticking to your skin.

your tiny tight skirt was riding up a little showing some more of your thighs and coryo swore to god that he saw a glimpse of your pink panties.

sometimes you bought from him some weed and nothing more. you were a literal sunshine and at school you talked to everyone, being friendly and helpful. coryo still remembers how you helped him with physics the first year of highschool. you both were still young but nature obviously blessed you donating you such a sexy body.

he instantly felt his cock gently twitch into his jeans and he made the smoke from the joint exiting his nostrils in annoyance. don’t you get coryo wrong, he had sex and sure plenty of it but since the hot sticky summer he wasn’t feeling like it to just screw some girl even though he just needed to say the words. it was peculiar how his cock woke up just by seeing you.

he drove nearby you slowly to keep up with your velocity and you looked over to acknowledge the presence of a car and as you recognized the driver you smiled throughout puffed breaths from hotness and the riding.

coryo made a small smirk while pulling the joint away from his lips to talk. “hey bunny, need a ride?”. you slowly stopped your bike, tippy toes of your pink vans scratching on the asphalt. coryo stopped the car too and since the streets were dead he just got off his vehicle to look at you while positioning the almost finished joint on the car roof.

you panted lightly as you talked as you examined his presence. “it would be so nice coryo, I think I’m about to faint because of the heat”. he nodded understandingly with his head to the car behind him. “get on, I’ll get the bike” coryo thought he was going crazy when you got off the bike seat revealing more of your thighs. you collected your backpack and lifted yourself up on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek, strawberry lip gloss scent evident on his skin too now. “thank you coryo you’re my savior” you said before going to the opposite back of the car.

once the bike was fixed in the back he turned the car back on, securing his joint back around his lips once again while grabbing his lighter inside his jeans front pocket.

“where am I taking you?” he asked while lighting the joint to take a long drag before passing it to you. “I’m going to my dads house, it’s near the football field, 32nd house” you explained as coryo nodded knowing where it was since he spent much more time driving around in his free time than anything else. you also accepted the joint starting to smoke with relaxed muscles.

coryo looked over at you while driving, there was a peaceful silence. his elbow leaned outside the car’s window as his slim fingers tapped the steering wheel gently while driving. you noticed his rings decorating his fingers and his new buzz cut hair made his features even more sharp. you took three puffs from the joint handing him it back while caressing your naked thighs trying to pull down the miniskirt.

coryo savored till the last minute your lucid lips around the filter that he made, somehow the sweat made your skin warm and inviting, the blonde felt his cock twitch again and he fixed himself on the seat while trusting with his hips forward. he coughed a bit taking the last puff while tossing the dead joint outside the car. “how's it going in general?” you asked softly feeling already your head light but not too much, it was pleasant. “mh it’s ok, it’s too hot to work or to do anything else, I just want winter back” coryo explained briefly, voice slightly rough from smoking. you chuckled while leaning over to him to pinch his cheek softly. “awww snow wants his snow back doesn’t he?” coryo smiled while looking over to her, instinctively he turned over his face to scratch your fingers with his teeth playfully as you kept messing with him. “by the way, you look good today, bunny, but riding that bike with just this tiny skirt? a little bit dangerous don’t you think?” he asked while gripping the steering wheel with both hands. “how is it dangerous? riding my bike won’t stop me” you felt like wanting to touch him so much, so you placed your hand on his thigh. coryo was one of the hottest boys at school and his reputation made him even hotter and you were a total slut for bad boys.

at your gesture he stiffened a bit looking down at you delicately manicured hand and you kept caressing him going higher and higher but stopping just before his crotch. “can’t keep your hands to yourself now?” he tried to be ironic but just your presence had made him incredibly hard and it was difficult to not stop the car and fuck you in the back seats, your pretty head pressed into the plush of the seats. “maybe I don’t want to keep them to myself” you shrugged while pulling away your hand as he stopped the car in front of your dads house.

he exited the car while trying to hide his hard on while pulling his jeans around to crotch to fix the situation but nothing was effective. coryo pulled your bike outside the back of his car and you thanked him again while kissing his cheek but making the kiss longer. he sighed with a smirk while placing his big warm hand on your hips. you caressed his chest while looking up at him, a small pout on your lips. “you’re busy?” you asked, your long lashes batting at him inviting. “mmh no bunny, i’ll probably just go home, smoke again and collapse on my bed” his thumbs caressed your exposed skin just a little bit above your skirt. “why don’t you come inside? my dads busy he won’t be home till tomorrow noon” you swayed your hips a bit with pleading eyes. “fuck bunny you’re truly tempting but-“ you interrupted him while taking his hand, pulling him towards the house. coryo gave in, closing the car with his keys by distance and following you inside. you were making him feral with your temptations and soft eyes.

thank god the house had an ac so it was cooler inside. you tossed your shoes away together with your backpack and went to the kitchen to collect some water for you both and coryo looked around noticing how the house was elegant and well kept.

he slipped off his beaten up black combat boots and just sat on the big couch. he almost sunk inside it, noticing it was a water couch and smirked as dirty thoughts filled his head.

“the water couch is amazing isn’t it?” you giggled while handing him a glass of water while bouncing next to him making the couch move in small waves. “yeah pretty comfortable” he said as he leaned the glass to his lips not looking away from you for any second.

you then smiled mischievously while slipping down the couch, your knees sinking in the soft fluffy carpet. you positioned yourself between his legs while going for the zipper of his pants pulling it down with pure eyes. coryo almost choked on his water as he looked at you with pleased eyes and a big smirk on his lips. “what the fuck are you doing bunny?” he breathed out a laugh as you tried to pull down his pants together with his boxers. “I want to suck you off so bad so lift up your butt now” your tone was playful and demanding and he did as you said making you able to pull his jeans and boxers down making his pink cock sprung to life. it leaned against his tummy perfectly. “what did I do to deserve something like this without even asking?” he placed his hands behind his head pushing his hips up so he could sink more into the water couch. “nothing special but you’re fucking hot and I can’t wait anymore,” you paused to spit on his tip gently while pushing some curls behind your ears. “and I just know you’re good at selling as you’re good at fucking” you giggled while finally gripping his base. “I knew you were big, shit” you were already fantasizing about taking him deep and hard inside your cunt. “you knew?” coryo laughed again but his breath was getting ragged slightly.

you just didn’t respond, kitten licking his tip and collecting precum as you looked up at him. he bit his bottom lip harshly to just concentrate not to burst his cum all over your pretty glittery makeup and long lashes.

you kissed his length till the base then licking a long stripe back up till you swallowed half his cock allowing space with your tongue and cheek. you started to suck and lick and the moans he was making were pornographic.

after a while saliva was dripping down your chin mostly when you decided to deepthroat him with a fluid movement making the water couch sway gently. “ah fuck bunny, you’re so fucking good” coryo moaned, lust clouding his blue eyes as he gripped your curls to buck into your throat just two times just to hear you gag shamelessly around his cock.

you smiled through teary lashes and bubbles of saliva and lifted your head to just suck at his tip harshly.

“shit- I’m gonna come bunny” coryo announced as you jerked off the rest of his cock while concentrating on the tip. at his words you pulled away standing up and his angry cock just leaned against his tummy as he bucked into air. “are you completely mad you fucking slut?” he said impulsively, the ruined orgasm hitting something into his mind profoundly.

you just smirked while slipping off your crop top and miniskirt. “what did you just call me coryo?” you asked while undoing your bra and slipping off your soaked pink panties. his mouth was slightly agape at your naked body, eyes obsessed. “I said you’re a whore, a slut” he said slowly and challengingly, lips mimicking each final letter. “oh yeah? let this slut show you how much of a whore she is.” you walked on the couch standing above him both of your feet planted on each side of his legs making the water couch giggle.

he was completely transfixed as you opened your legs leaning one of your knees on the headset of the couch. you grabbed his head from behind pushing his mouth on your dripping core.

coryo thought about cumming just from that, just from the smell of your juices and the taste of it.

it was so intense, his tongue lapping at your folds once in a while stopping to suck on your lips or clit while humming. his big hands gripped your ass squishing the plush meat here to push his face further into you.

you were a complete mess as you scratched his head and moaned shamelessly and loudly, hips bucking as you trusted him keeping you up to not let you fall.

“fuck coryo! fuck I’m coming!” you chanted as you gripped his head, legs quivering as your juices splashed into his face. coryo felt on cloud nine as he gripped your hips to not let you fall as he lapped at your juice like the starving dog he was. dying by suffocation from your pussy seemed the only best thing he could think of at the moment.

you came down from your high slipping down as you sat on his lap, grabbing his neck to kiss him sloppily to taste yourself in his mouth. you sucked his tongue, licked the roof of his mouth and even licked his teeth while he playfully rubbed your clit. “mh! I’m sensitive-“ you lamented while pushing his hand away, your lips glistening with his saliva. “I need you inside now coryo” you gently kissed his jawline and neck while rubbing your pussy onto his still angry cock. “your wish is my demand bunny but you’re not gonna come again sooner or later” as he said so with his low voice he pushed his cock inside of your thigh pussy helping himself with his fingers and you laughed a moan while arching and sitting fully on his hard member. he immediately hit your cervix so good you felt helpless.

it was the most passionate and sloppiest sex of your entire life. you rode him like your entire existence depended on it, you knees sunk into the water couch as you bounced on his cock helped by the gentle waves. his hands were placed right on top of your ribs as your hips were too quick to control anyways. you pushed your head so hard against his that your noses squished together as your forehead and your moans and shouts tangled together. both mouths opened, eyebrows furrowed.

coryo didn’t even remember his name anymore when you clenched hard around him signaling somehow that you were close. “stupid bunny thought she could come yeah?” he murmured around a moan as he gripped hard your ass to stop your intense riding. “what the fuck coryo? don’t stop please, fuck!” you lamented but when he pushed your back into the couch your eyes rolled in the back of your skull. coryo fucked into you helplessly, his orgasm close. your back arched and he massaged your breasts cupping them harshly. “shit fuck! I’m coming” he moaned, eyes fluttering close for a minute. to make you pay he pulled out, cum splashing on your tummy and even on your breasts from the intensity of it and you cried out loud from the loss of his cock inside of you. you even laughed a bit through cries because of where his cum landed but then you gripped his ear angrily. “make me come coryo, make me fucking come” she arched rubbing her pussy against his worked out cock. coryo panted a laugh and gripped your jaw with his hand tightly before leaning over to bit and pull your lower lip. he massaged your clit with all of his hand opened while looking at you. “look at your fucked out face, you’re completely drunk on my cock” he laughed again mischievously just to degrade you. he rubbed your entire pussy quickly, slapping your clit once in a while. “now you’re gonna come and admit that only my cock can make you this fucked up mh?” you nodded, eyes rolling once in a while. “yes, yes coryo, only you, only want your cock” he chuckled again while his hand kept going. “that’s what I wanted to hear bunny” at his last words you came, the orgasm making your entire skeleton tremble in pure bliss. you cried his name with your mouth wide open.

when you calmed down a bit he was just caressing your thighs while admiring your body painted with his cum and you smiled while stretching out a bit. “next time you’re gonna come inside coryo” you said it so naturally with a small smile and a yawn and coryo playfully slapped your sensitive clit with two fingers making you whine a bit. “I'm looking forward to the next time in like, 10 minutes, bunny.”

[lonely-cowboy]

without you

pairing: connor (rk800) x gn!reader

summary: it's been almost three days since you last saw connor. with the ongoing revolution, you're concerned about his whereabouts. and if you'll ever see him again.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: occasional cursing but that's it

author's note: let me paint a little picture for y'all. it's currently 1am and i'm sitting on the couch in the dark sobbing like a baby bc i just finished my very first playthrough of dbh and didn't even realize i was near the end and i hate that it's over (i'm just gonna play again). anyway! my solution to stop (worsen) my sad lonely thoughts was to write this! yippee! healthy coping!

masterlist ⟡ requests

You were never a fan of staying home all day and lounging around in your pajamas doing absolutely nothing. You felt unproductive, like you were wasting time. And if there was one thing you hated more than anything, it was wasting time.

But– like anything– there were some exceptions. The most common exceptions were the days after an intense investigation, mostly those involving considerable physical exertion (which really just meant any form of running). Those days, your body was so unbelievably sore that it was almost necessary for you to stay in bed and do nothing all day. Besides that, the only other exception was the occasional rainy day. 

And now. Now was an exception too.

It was nearing three days since you had last seen Connor. Usually, that wouldn’t have bothered you. Three days was nothing. It was always possible that the two of you were just far too overwhelmed with work to see each other. But with the rising android revolution that threatened Connor’s life– and that of any android– you immediately assumed the worst.

Huddled on your couch, you stared blankly at the muted television as it flashed between news stations. You weren’t really paying attention anymore, too consumed by thoughts of Connor. You pulled your blanket tighter around your shoulders, eyebrows furrowing with concern.

Truthfully, you hadn’t known Connor that long. Sure, you worked with him frequently to investigate the sudden rise in deviants, but in the grand scheme of things, it felt like you had just met him. Of course, that didn’t stop Connor from burrowing his way into your heart with those soft doe eyes and that gentle, slightly confused smile. You had a soft spot for him now, so it was perfectly reasonable that you couldn’t help but worry for his safety. 

You released a heavy sigh as you turned off the television, trying to shake away any negative thoughts. With narrowed eyes, you glanced at the other end of the couch where Hank had been sitting almost three hours ago. He had been checking in on you frequently the last few days to make sure you were– at the very least– living, though he would never admit it. Whenever he did stop by, it was always because he “forgot his jacket” or “couldn’t watch the Detroit Gears game at home.” Whatever lame excuse he came up with, it was always intended to ensure you were okay. 

Today’s lame excuse was that he ran out of beer and didn’t want to go to the store during such a “crazy fucking time.” That ended with the two of you sitting in silence on your couch, watching the television for any sign that Connor might be okay. In your book, that just meant he wasn’t dead.

But eventually, Hank had been pulled away to the precinct for whatever reason. He promised he’d make it short. He was reluctant to go anyway, so he wouldn’t be gone long. Three hours felt pretty fucking long to you.

You pursed your lips worriedly, forgetting Connor for a moment as your mind was now focused on Hank’s safety. What if he somehow got himself tangled up in this revolution? What if he managed to get caught in some wild crossfire with no means of telling you?

No, that was crazy. You were being irrational. Surely he just decided to brave going to the store to get some more beer once he left the precinct, right? That made so much sense. Obviously, he was outside your apartment building right now struggling to get in because he didn’t have a key and was too preoccupied carrying his mountains of beer. Obviously…

Without thinking, you scurried into your closet and pulled on your warmest clothes. You threw your thickest jacket over your pajamas, not bothering to hide your snowflake pajama pants. You pulled on your shoes and a beanie, ignoring the way it matted your hair. Then, you were out the door and rushing downstairs with the belief that you could miraculously manifest Hank’s presence.

There was no other explanation. You were blessed with some magical powers that you were yet to understand because as you marched into the snow, Hank suddenly appeared. You didn’t stop until you were jabbing a finger into his chest, glaring up at his towering figure.

“What is wrong with you?” you seethed. “You can’t just leave like that!”

Hank sighed with what sounded like irritation, though you knew he could never be irritated with you. He raised his hands in mock surrender as he grumbled, “Sorry, kid, I–”

“Oh, no, no, no! I’m not done!” you growled, choosing to ignore that maybe you were being a little overdramatic. What’s life without a little drama anyway? “You had me fucking worried, Hank! I’m already worried sick about Connor, I don’t have the energy to worry about both of you!”

Hank said your name in an attempt to stop you, but it was no use. Now that you had an outlet to channel your jumble of emotions, you were going to let them all out.

“I mean, you’ve seen me, Hank! I can barely get out of bed because of that goddamn android!” you shouted. “His safety is the only thing on my–”

Hank rolled his eyes as he grumbled something about how he was “tired of this shit” that didn’t involve him. That only seemed to fuel your fire, the crease between your brows deepening with anger and worry. You opened your mouth again to yell at Hank as he stepped aside, but you quickly shut it once you noticed the figure standing bashfully behind him.  

Connor stood a few feet away having clearly been told to stay put once Hank saw your angry self storming out of the apartment building. His hands were clasped neatly behind his back, standing tall against the harsh winter winds. His eyes were already on you, watching you with a warm glint. When you met his gaze, the corners of his lips turned upwards into a small, unsure smile. 

Compared to him, you were sure you looked absolutely stupid. No, no matter what you looked completely stupid. You stared at Connor with absurdly wide eyes, mouth opening and closing like a confused fish. You were so baffled by his appearance that you couldn’t even move, no wonder the poor man was confused. All this while wearing your stupid fucking snowflake pajamas.

Neither of you made any effort to close the uncomfortable distance between the two of you. You were thankful that Hank managed to find his way back into your apartment building because you would be a doubly flustered mess if he saw how awkward the two of you were. At least Connor made some effort to communicate. He raised a hand in an awkward wave, his soft voice barely heard over the din of the wind. 

“Hello.”

Your feet were moving before your brain could catch up. You sprinted towards Connor– though it was more of a fast waddle if anything– and pulled him into a tight hug. A heavy sigh of relief left your lips as you felt his firm body against you, inhaling his scent slowly. He was real.

You squeezed him a little tighter, burying your head into his chest. It was as if you didn’t want to let him go, and truthfully, you didn’t. You couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing him again.

Connor’s arms wrapped lightly around your body. He leaned into your touch, relaxing in your arms with a comforted grin. Until you, he had no idea what it was like to be cared for. Perhaps the greatest gift of consciousness was your affection.

Connor murmured your name in a quiet rasp, his lips moving against your hair. He reared back to catch your eyes, but you refused to let him. You just held him closer and allowed yourself to calm in his presence. When you finally did pull away, you glanced at him with a confusing look of joy, sadness, and anger.

“I didn’t think you were ever coming back,” you mumbled, letting the words spill out. “I was so scared… Connor, I… God, I missed you…”

There was a beat of silence as Connor’s LED spiraled yellow, his head tilted to the slightest degree. It seemed as if he was struggling to find the right words out.

“I…,” Connor started hoarsely. “I think… I missed you too.”

Despite the whirlwind of emotions you felt, you couldn’t help but laugh at Connor’s words. A small smile traced your lips as you studied him with furrowed brows.

“You think?” you repeated with another quiet laugh, your breath pluming in the cold air.

Connor paused again, his LED flashing yellow once more. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it as he considered his words a moment longer. He was looking into the distance, but when he glanced back down to you it was as if all the right words suddenly came to him.

“I don’t know what it feels like to miss someone,” he explained softly. “But I think… I think this is what it would feel like. I felt… I don’t know… there was a tightness inside of me when I thought I would never see you again. Is that what it’s like to miss someone?”

Your grin widened as Connor spoke. A tinge of pink coated your cheeks, and you were sure it wasn’t just from the cold.

“Maybe I’m biased, but yeah, I think so,” you answered sweetly.

“Oh,” Connor muttered as he took a moment to process that information. “Then, yes. It appears I did miss you.”

Your chest felt light from the joy of having Connor back. You were so giddy, in fact, that you didn’t even think before you were leaning forward and pressing a delicate kiss to Connor’s cheek. It was only when you pulled away that you realized what you had done, your face heating with embarrassment.

You glanced at Connor worriedly and noticed the faint blue coloring along his cheeks. It almost made you laugh seeing such a confident android turned into such a poor, flustered mess. Well, you took his silence to mean his was flustered, but his silence lasted so long that you weren’t so sure anymore.

“Connor?” you asked. “You okay?”

“Yes,” Connor replied immediately. “I was searching my database for the best way to greet someone you missed.”

It was your turn to be flustered again, eyes going wide with surprise as you murmured, “Oh. And… what did you find?”

Connor’s gaze finally focused back on you, his expression neutral aside from his fading blush. The corner of his lip quirked up slightly as his eyes searched your face like he was memorizing every little detail.

“I found that the best way to convey you missed someone is by kissing them, as you’ve done to me,” he answered in his typical matter-of-fact tone. “However, whereas you kissed my cheek, I noticed that most people kiss on the lips. I’d like to do the same if that’s alright with you.”

Your stunned silence must’ve been enough of an answer for Connor because he leaned forward with a grin. His warm hands moved to hold your cheeks, fighting off the evening chill. Your hands immediately moved to rest over top his, seeking out his warmth while his soft lips moved against yours. He pulled away far too soon for your liking, but he rested his forehead against yours as he whispered sweet words against your skin. 

“I missed you too.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

author's note: i hope you enjoyed! this is my very first post ever, so i'm a little nervous! if you have any constructive (and kind) criticism, please lmk! and if you have any requests i'd love to hear those too :)

[familyvideostevie]

watching you with wonder

joel miller x reader joel claims to have heard something interesting. too bad he keeps insisting he needs more information before he can tell you | 5.4k a/n: same universe as come care about me but not necessary to read that one first! joel is soft, this is my version of him where he and ellie heal and he gets to have a life etc etc etc | domesticity, post-part i jackson au, joel is a flirt and a gossip but good thing you are too, a fair amount of kissing, fluff, softness, peace and all that good stuff. part 3 here! series masterlist here.

It's been a long day. The supply run you'd been dreading went off without a hitch but you were out of the gate at sun-up and in the saddle for most of the morning and afternoon. Your legs are sore, your back is sore,  and you're dirty from a day outside the walls.

You haven't seen Joel since this morning. Not unusual, not by any means. Most days you're both doing something in town, occasionally one of you out on patrol. You're partial to the plant work and Joel likes to chop wood or check out houses that need upgrades with Tommy. But after a day like today you want nothing more than to go home and complain about how much you miss cars while Joel works the knots out of your shoulders. 

But tonight is Festival Night. Nothing big, just a dance at the barn that serves as the community center with music and drinks and food. And Joel, despite his insistence that he's Jackson's resident grump, will be there, because Tommy will have asked him to go and he doesn't like disappointing his brother. And, though he'll never admit it even to you, he enjoys community events. He gets to see the people he loves having a nice time and feeling safe. 

So you head from the stables to the main hall, not bothering to stop at home. Jackson seems to be lit up extra special, the air a little lighter due to the laughter and music brightening the night. The noise becomes almost overwhelming when you open the door and slide inside, dropping your pack against the wall. It's much warmer in here and you unbutton your coat as you make your way through the crowd, waving to people as you go. 

Joel is here somewhere but you don't try too hard to spot him. You know he'll find you. Someone calls your name and you pivot on your heel to find Ellie waving at you from a...poker table?

"Wanna join?" she asks once you walk over. Next to her is Tommy, who looks significantly less excited than she does. "I'm teaching Tommy how to play poker. Oh, sorry, I'm fucking smoking Tommy at poker."

"I know how to play, you little shit," Tommy growls. "Who taught you? This isn't poker, this is a fuckin' massacre." 

Ellie cackles and tips her chair back so she's balancing on the back legs.

"I'll pass this round," you tell her. "Looks like you've got him handled."

"You just want to find Joel." She looks at you in that uncanny way of hers like she knows all of your secrets. But this is one you have no problem admitting.

You smile at her. "Seen him?"

"Now that you're here I'm sure he'll slink out of whatever corner he stuck himself in," Tommy grumbles. "Girl, you sure you ain't countin' cards?"

You leave them to it and wander over to the bar. Astrid pours you a glass of something amber. You take a sip and let the burn warm your throat, your stomach. The music behind you picks up and there's laughter and you turn to see people pairing up and flocking to the floor. 

You close your eyes to enjoy the sounds that mean peace, safety, home. It never gets old and you never quite get used to it. You inhale deep and -- ah, yes. There it is. A smile spreads across your face as you breathe in wood glue, gunpowder, the soap you make at home. Your heart beats a little faster, even after all this time.

"Hi," you say, opening your eyes. Joel stands in front of you, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a glass similar to your own. His hair curls at his collar, edges still a little wet from the shower he must have taken before coming here. His shirt is rolled to his elbows, his jacket clearly discarded somewhere. Your gaze trails up his chorded forearms, his watch securely in place as always. This is what you've called his "nice" shirt, a deep green that makes the grey of his beard all the more striking and brings out his eyes. 

Eyes that settle on you in a way that sends heat up your spine.

"Howdy," he says. "You just get here?"

"Like you weren't watching the door for me," you tease. He shrugs and reaches for you, his free hand curling around your hip to tug you close for just a few moments. Joel presses his lips to your cheek lightly, his beard scratching your skin as he pulls away and settles at your side, arm resting on the bar behind you. 

"Well, I ain't seen you all day," he reminds you. As if you could forget. Every second you're not looking at him you sort of wish you were. There aren't many good things left in your life -- all of them are in this town, now -- and you tend to hold on to the ones you still have with both hands. Joel, despite the fact that he'd argue with you over it, is your good thing. Your best thing.  

"Miss me?" 

"Dumb question," he mutters. 

His fingers brush against the back of your bicep, warm through your jacket. "How was the run?"

"Easy. Long." You take a sip of your drink. It's still warming but doesn't measure up to the solid warmth of the man beside you. "I came straight here."

"That would explain why you smell like shit," he drawls. You smack his chest. He doesn't so much as flinch.

"Rude."

Joel watches the crowd and you watch him. That's how it usually goes with you two. You figure he's watching for threats, for any sign of something going wrong. It's a habit most folks here find hard to break. He's watching Ellie, who has left the poker table behind, twirl some of the children around with Dina, he's watching Tommy try to teach a few drunk guys how to square dance like he does every Festival. Joel curls his hand around your shoulder and you lean back into the touch. 

On a night like tonight when joy is more contagious than the fungus spreading through the rotting world, Joel loosens up a little. It's a good look on him and it only ever means good things for you -- he laughs more, he touches you more. But most importantly you know he lets life in. He lets that knot you know is in his chest, the one made of fear and loss and survival and all of the horrible fucked up things he's seen and done, he lets it loosen even just a bit. He lets himself feel the good things, too. How much the people in this town respect him, care about him. How much they appreciate him. How much they love him, how much you love him.

You look at him in the soft light of the barn. There's a tug to his mouth that you know.

He looks smug. It's a nice look on him, a relaxed one. He looks too handsome for his own good. And though you love him, love how he's enjoying the night, like hell you're going to let him stand there and get away with whatever he's cooking up.

"Joel Miller, why are you looking so pleased with yourself?"

"No reason," he says. He takes another sip of his drink, side-eyeing you over the rim. This man. 

You tap the heel of your boot against his. "Don't make me beg."

His eyes flash but he turns into your space, the solid shape of him curling around you as well as his arm. In another world, in another life, he could be a handsome man picking you up at a bar. 

"I heard somethin'," he says, voice low. "Somethin'...interestin'."

"Really?" You look around the barn as if the object of his gossip will materialize in front of you. "Tell me."

He leans back and you have to stop yourself from following. "Don't think so."

"Joel."

This man can be such a shit when he wants to be. 

He holds the hand carrying his glass up in surrender, the brown liquor sloshing close to the rim. "Hey now, don't go shootin' the messenger."

"I can't because he won't tell me the message."

"S'not anything worth tellin' just yet," he drawls. "I need a little more intel. Y'know, make it worth your while."

You sigh, hamming it up a bit by thunking your forehead to his collar. Joel huffs a laugh and fully drapes his arm across your shoulders, warm and solid. 

It's all fun but you know there's a note of truth to it. Joel can lie better than most people but he doesn't lie to you. "Fine. You get away with it for now."

The song changes to something old and slow, something you recognize but don't quite remember the name of.

"Only if you dance with me," you say. You swallow the last of your drink and push off the bar, sliding out from under his arm. You hold your hand out to him and wiggling your fingers. "It's only fair."

He sighs like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. And he is, sometimes. But right now his cheeks are a little flushed from the drink and your flirting and you want to see how far you can take it.

"Unless I smell too much like shit," you goad. You don't actually think he'll go for it. Joel doesn't dance. It feels like the kind of good time, the kind of joy that is forever stuck in the past, left behind twenty odd years ago. Honestly, you think he'll just drag you home and have his way with you in your warm bed. 

But he manages to surprise you.

Joel throws back his drink and grabs your hand. His thumb strokes your skin.

"S'pose it is," he says. "You don't smell that bad."

A delighted laugh spills from you. He leads you to the already-crowded dance floor, pulling you close with a hand on your back. You rest your arm on his broad shoulder and hook your thumb in his collar. 

"Not so bad, is it?" you say. Your faces are so close you're practically cheek to cheek. You feel his breath on the shell of your ear, his beard a little prickly against your cheek. 

"Could be worse." You and Joel gently sway and you toy with the ends of his hair. Over his shoulder you can see Dina and Ellie dancing, arms wrapped around each other tight. You close your eyes and match your breaths to Joel's. 

"We should do this more often," you say. "Bet they'd let you play guitar at the next festival if you wanted."

Joel hums. 

"Don't forget you have to deliver the firewood to the school tomorrow." He presses his hand to your back and pulls you even closer. "Are you listening to me?"

"Mhm."

"Joel --" Your eyes fly open and you try to pull away to goad him but he holds you steadily against him.

"Hush," he says, fingers squeezing yours. "I'm enjoyin' the moment."

You allow it.

___

The gossip Joel mentioned is in the back of your mind but you know he'll tell you when he's satisfied with his information gathering or whatever the fuck he's up to. Sure, it's silly, maybe even pointless but you like to think of it as a display of the trust you have in each other. You trust Joel with your life and you've put that into practice, watched him bloody his knuckles for the ones he loves. You also trust him with your heart, your body, your mind. There's no part of you that his hands haven't touched, haven't loved in the jagged, intense way of his. 

Plus you enjoy seeing him pleased with himself, which you know he will be once he has the whole story to tell you. It's not a mood you see on him often.

You finally have a free night and Ellie asks you to come over to try out a new video game Jesse found for her on patrol. Joel waves you off when you offer to stay in with him instead.

"Means I'll get some peace and quiet to finish my book," he grumbles, handing you your coat even though you're walking across the yard. He's already peeled off his boots and looks half-awake in the dim light of your entryway, glasses tucked into the collar of his sweater.

"More like you're going to sit in bed and fall asleep reading without me talking to keep you awake."

He sends you off with an eye roll and a soft kiss which you turn into two more, just because. Maybe a few years ago he'd sit in the chair downstairs and wait for you to come home. He does like to play his guitar on the porch when it's not too cold, keep an eye on things. But you'll be with Ellie just out back and it's been a long week. It's no small point of pride that, with the help of your reassurance and persistent care and his own conviction, Joel allows himself to relax a little. "Have fun."

You do. Ellie and Joel have a history that is complex and tender, so much so that sometimes it's too much for both of them. After it seemed like she was open to it, you've tried to make sure you and her have a relationship all your own. She's smart and funny and fiercely loyal to the people she cares about. You feel lucky to be one of them.

But she still annihilates your ass when it comes to video games. 

"You know," she says, cracking her knuckles after yet another defeat. "It's embarrassing as shit how you literally lived in a time where you could play these like, whenever you wanted. And yet it's me, who was born after the world ended, who keeps winning."

You make sure to look unamused. "Whatever." You stand, stretching out your spine with your arms above your head and yawn. "It's teenage luck." You have no idea how this girl stays up so late all the time. 

"I guess I'm just good at everything."

"Oh, you sure about that?" She hands you your coat and tugs on the strings of her sweatshirt. "I've seen you in a kitchen. You might want to rethink that one."

"Psh," she says, waving you off. "Who needs to cook, anyway?"

You slide into your boots and shake your head. "I'm actually shocked Dina puts up with you." 

"Hey, fuck you!" she cries, though she's hiding a smile. "No insulting me in my own home. It's Joel's fault, anyway. He can't cook either."

You snort. "Don't I know it." She grins at you fully, the one you call her shark-tooth smile, and you grin back. "Thanks for this, kiddo. I had fun." 

"Yeah, maybe one day you'll win." You tug her in for a quick hug which she allows before squirming away. "Alright, alright. Go make sure he didn't burn down the house without you, or something."

It's late, late enough that you feel yourself getting more tired with each step back to the porch. Joel left the back door unlocked for you. You latch the deadbolt behind you and peel off your outer layers in the dark. A quick glance in the kitchen tells you Joel put your stuff from dinner away and is probably in bed. He's left out your mugs, ready for the morning, and the list he's been making of things you need to do around the house before it snows. You love to see the pieces of your life on display like this -- signs that this is a home.

You don't bother being quiet when you climb up the stairs because you know he'll be pissed if you don't wake him to let him know you're home. The bedroom light is on but when you actually go in you see he's in bed with his book in his lap, glasses sliding down his nose. His eyes are closed and his bare chest rises slowly.

He's probably only half-asleep, probably heard you come in and decided it was safe enough to shut his eyes until you say something. So you get ready for bed quickly, tugging on soft clothes and brushing your teeth before creeping over to his side of the bed and perching on the edge of it, resting your hand on his thigh under the covers.

"Joel," you say softly. "Joel, are you asleep?"

"Yes," he grumbles. His eyes flutter open, the piercing grey a little clouded with tiredness. He reaches for his glasses and pulls them from his face a bit clumsily. "You okay? You n'Ellie have fun?"

"We did. She's so good at video games it's a little scary." You pluck the frames from his hand and fold them, setting them on his bedside table with his book. He grunts and pushes himself up a little more in bed, his leg pressing against your tailbone through the blankets. It's a real show of your restraint that you don't run your hands over the golden and hairy expanse of his chest, the broad line of his shoulders. Instead you reach for his face and he lets you, eyes crinkling at the corners as he tries and fails to hide his amusement as you trail your fingers through his hair. Just being here with him makes you a little sleepy, your body catching up with your mind at how you always feel safest when he's in the room with you. "S'cold, though. I think we might need to put some more insulation in the shed for her."

"Alright," he says. Joel wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls your palm to his cheek but quickly flinches away. "Christ," he mutters. "Your hands are cold." He encases both of your hands in his and rubs slowly, throughly. 

"Let me get in bed, then." You make no effort to move. 

Joel blows on your fingers and, in a move that's tender even for him, presses his lips to their tips. "I ain't holdin' you here."

"Sarcasm," you say. "And Ellie claims you're not funny." Joel scoffs and you laugh, rising from his side of the bed and making your way around to yours. Joel flicks back the covers and you slide in, facing him. 

"Light off?" he asks. You nod. He shuffles around to flip the switch and then settles into his side with a groan. It's dark but you know his face with your eyes closed, let alone in the moonlight of your bedroom. The gash on the bridge of his nose, the scruff of his greying beard, the nicks along his cheeks and temples. The age spots, the wrinkles, the lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth, these days more from smiles and laughter than stress and worry. Or so you like to think. 

"Got any gossip for me yet?" 

Joel huffs. "Not quite."

"Jooooooel," you whine, scooting closer. You hook a leg over his and slide your hand over his stomach, fingers catching on the hair above the waistband of his sleep pants. He makes a noise deep in his throat but otherwise allows it. 

"I ain't givin' you half-assed information," he says. "It'll be worth the wait."

With Joel, it always is. You consider dragging it out a little more but you're cold and tired and he's so warm and you barely saw him at all today. "Alright," you say. You pull yourself even closer under the covers, dragging your nose over the hollow of his throat, his beard a delicious scratch on your skin. Your hand curls around his hip and he reaches for you on instinct, warm, callused palms sliding under your sleep shirt to press into your bare skin.

He huffs a tired laugh, chest rumbling with amusement. "What're you up to?"

"You're warm," you say into his skin.

"And you're handsy."

You trail your lips up to his and press them to the corner of his mouth. "You love it."

"Guess I do," Joel says. He catches you in a lazy, slow kiss, tongue tracing the seam of your lips until you part them. He licks into your mouth like he's got all the time in the world and you let him. His nose presses against yours and you sigh even further into the embrace, pressing as close as you can, as if you could crawl into him and stay there forever. Any cold lingering in your bones is dispelled by Joel's touch, by the thigh he wedges between your legs. This could turn into something more, and you love when it does, but tonight it's just about being close. His hand trails up your side to cup your face as the kisses get lazier, sleepier. You're slotting his bottom lip between yours when he pulls back and --

Yawns in your face. 

He looks a little surprised and then frowns. You laugh and smooth the crease between his brows before kissing him once more.

"Jesus, Joel," you say. "Bedtime."

"Was sleepin' fine before you got here," he grumbles, but  in the same breath he wraps his arm around you and tugs you with him as he turns onto his back so your head lays on his chest. You match your breaths to his. He presses a kiss to your hair.

___

Two nights later you wake to an empty bed. 

You sleepily trail your hand through the sheets and find they still carry Joel's warmth. He must have gotten up a few minutes ago. You force your eyes to open but don't see a light in the bathroom, find no shadow in your eyesight. You can hear his voice in your head saying go back to sleep, s'nothin' but you know better than to listen to him when it comes to this. It's not like you'll be able to until you know he's okay, anyway. 

So you wrap the blanket from the foot of your bed around yourself and shuffle through the house and down the stairs. 

"Joel?" you call quietly. 

"Kitchen," he replies, a warm grumble in the still of the night. You didn't even look at the clock when you got out of bed but it must be late. 

He sits in the dark at your small kitchen table, eyes fixed on Ellie's garage out back. He's put a shirt on. Of course. Nightmare. This is where he always sits after he has one. His hands are wrapped around his mug. Based on the smell it's chamomile tea -- the only time he'll drink it instead of coffee is on nights like tonight. He had no idea it even grew in the greenhouses here until you presented him with a jar of it for Ellie back when you were still tiptoeing around whatever was between you. Those days are long gone.

"You okay?" You keep your voice hushed. It's rare these days that he'll want to be alone. You're the only one who gets to see him like this other than Ellie. It took a while but now Joel lets you comfort him, he lets you hold him together when he needs it. 

He tears his eyes from the window to meet yours, chin tipped up as he gets a good look at you in the dark. 

"M'alright." You take a few more steps into the kitchen and he frowns. "You cold?" He reaches for you with one hand, beckoning you close. You step into his space and he wraps one arm around you, leans his head against your soft stomach. You untangle from the blanket slightly to run your fingers through his hair. The touch is as grounding for him as it is for you.

"What can I do?" you ask him, ignoring his question. 

You can feel the warmth of his palm through the blanket and your sleep shirt. "This is just fine. Just need a minute." 

"You wanna take that minute on the couch?" He grunts his assent and you step back to allow him to get up. He leaves his mug on the table but catches your hand to pull you with him.

Joel sighs when he settles into the worn cushions, knees spread wide and head tipped back as be breathes. He doesn't look any more tired than usual but you can tell he's still holding onto whatever sent him down here. 

You press into his side, legs curled underneath you. His arm settles heavily on across your shoulders and you rest a palm on his knee. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" He turns his head to face you and his nostrils flare as he frowns.

"Nothin' new," he sighs. "A pretty old one, actually. Haven't had it in a while. 'Bout stuff from when we were on the road."

If he wants to say more he will. You don't know what it's like for him to worry about Ellie -- you only know how youworry. Once the sun rises he'll probably trudge over and knock on her door, ask if she wants to go for a ride. She'll complain about being woken up but she'll agree because she knows him, too. She'll see the tension at the edges of his eyes, in the set of his shoulders. There have been nights when you come downstairs to find her sleeping on the couch, too, just because she wanted to be sure he was okay.

You lean your head on his shoulder and breathe with him. He picks up your hand and rubs his thumb across the back of it slowly, as if he doesn't even know he's doing it.

Sleep is a near thing when Joel eventually clears his throat. "I got that gossip for you." His chest rumbles and you perk up, pulling back to look at him. His eyes have a bit more spark, a bit less of the far-away look he had when you came down the stairs. 

"Oh, do you now? Finally?"

"You're just impatient," he says. "Hadn't heard directly from either of 'em so I wasn't sure. But I tracked it down and got it from the source."

"You sound like a detective from one of those old shows. Got it from the source," you say, pitching your voice low and imitating his drawl. 

He manages to look unimpressed. "I don't have to tell you."

"Joel."

"Alright, alright. Well, it's about Wendy and Fred."

You sit up. "The couple that met on your group patrol?" It's something you and Ellie tease him about -- his accidental tendency to play matchmaker. Sometimes he leads group patrols for new folks or younger community members who are now old enough to join the roster. You think he probably enjoys scaring the shit out of them a little but he's also good at it, teaches them well and makes sure they're safe. Around the time you met you'd heard about a couple who met on a patrol and hit it off. It's happened a few more times with Joel's groups but Wendy and Fred are the only ones who have stayed together. 

"Mhm. Word is they're gettin' married."

You gasp. This is very far from what you expected him to tell you. A lot of the gossip you and Joel share is about people breaking up or sleeping together or moving out of Jackson. Sometimes it's petty theft or in-fighting at the council. But this? This is downright romantic.

"Married?" It's not uncommon these days but most people don't bother. But most importantly it means one thing -- there's going to be a party. "We haven't had a wedding in...forever," you say wistfully.

"Been a few years, yeah," Joel agrees. "Folks'll be excited."

"How did you find out?" 

He shifts on the couch a little and you take control of your clasped hands, holding one of his in both of yours as you trace the lines on his palm, the veins that go up his arm while he talks. 

"Heard from one of the guys at the festival that Fred was lookin' for a ring. Wanted to get the word out to some supply runs but without her knowin'. But I wasn't sure, since I hadn't seen him in a while. Then I saw Wendy at the pantry few days ago and she looked real happy. I didn't pry but asked her how things were and she was chipper as hell."

"And that wasn't enough to tell me?"

He squeezes your shoulder. 

"Yesterday Fred cornered me when I was headin' home and told me flat out. Thanked me for some fuckin' reason and said Wendy agreed to marry him. Kid looked like he was gonna throw up, he was so excited."

Joel's voice is warm. "You are such a romantic when you want to be," you tell him.

He smirks. "Heard that before."

"It'll be nice to have a celebration. If we're invited, you're dancing with me again."

"We better fuckin' be invited," he grumbles. "I introduced them."

"So you admit to being a matchmaker?"

He huffs. "Nah," he says, a little softer. "Dumb luck. S'how you get good things these days."

You shift under his arm a little bit. "Maybe," you reply. "I think we've earned a few of those things."

Joel drags a hand down his face. It's a motion that usually means he's chewing on what to say next. You spare him.

"This --" you gesture between the two of you "--and all of this --" you wave your hand at the room, the house "-- is more than I knew I could want. You, this house, that feisty, wonderful girl out back. This whole town. Waking up every morning and not dreading another day on this hellish planet. I didn't know this existed anymore, Joel, let alone that it was possible for me. And I think we've earned it."

He's quiet for a few breaths. "C'mere," he says softly. You don't know exactly what he means but he pulls you into his lap so you're straddling him, his arm firm around your hips. It could be a heated position, often is, but here it's just to be close. You catch yourself on his shoulders and drag your hands up to his cheeks. You hold his face in your hands, thumbs stroking the soft, forever-bruised skin under his eyes.

"You sure got a way with words," he says thickly, gaze heavy. "Don't know what I did to deserve this but I ain't gonna question it."

You wrap your arms around him and properly embrace him. He presses his palms to your back and hooks his chin over your shoulder. Your breathing syncs up and you swear your heartbeats do, too. Your whole body, your whole being tuned itself to Joel a long time ago. You'd do everything you've done twice over to get here. 

As if he hears the desperate devotion of your thoughts, Joel pulls back so he can lean up for a kiss. It's more intense than you expected it to be, like he's trying to tell you something with the press of his mouth. You know what he's trying to tell you -- you always do. Joel is better at showing you how he feels than telling you. 

He suckles your lower lip and you tug on the hair at the nape of his neck. He makes a noise low in his throat and you swallow it. You could touch him forever and never get enough. The firm planes of his back, the knot of tension always present in his shoulders. The scratch of his beard, the press of his nose against yours. You want to stitch yourself to him so that you never have to let go.

"S'your turn," Joel grumbles against your lips, pulling back to catch his breath.

Your brain is a little fuzzy. "Hm?"

"For somethin' juicy." 

It's a funny word coming from his mouth and it makes you laugh. His arms tighten around you and he drags his nose down your neck and breathes deep. You can get some gossip for him. You'd do much worse without being asked. Sometimes you think there are no limits to what you'd do for this man. It's a big thought, a dangerous thought, one that's suited to the world you live in now. You don't mind it.

"I'll get you something good, Joel Miller. I promise."

"I know you will," he says. "I trust you."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

[ph4ngz]

Hello lovely!! I love your concept of „how the bllk men fuck“

Any thoughts on how Niko, Ness and Otoya would fuck ?

*happy noises* tysm!!

Ikki Niko fucks you with a dirty trick up his sleeve. He'll start off all "y-yeah, feels amazing~", with passionate thrusts and lovely long kisses, keeping your legs up or offering to do all the work if you get tired. Then, around 5-6 minutes in? The guy's revelling in your cute little face of surprise. He's holding you in a position that you had no idea existed, let alone been in before. And when it feels good, it feels good. "Hnnngh, can you keep this position? Yeah? Too much? Too bad, huh..." he'll be panting, clawing at your body whilst you cry out his name as he's forcing your form to take him in his favoured position.

Niko likes to make a scene when it's time for you both to cum, because it's like screaming to the world: 'I did that! I made her cum with my hidden technique!'. He'll groan louder than necessary and keeps thrusting into your sore, cum-coated pussy, nice and smoothly while you're reaching out to his chest in a futile attempt to slow him down. "Oh— Ohhhhh... ssshhhhhit!"

Alexis Ness fucks you with complete trust. He's borderline addicted to your body, he knows it never lies. You'll be trying to hide the way your face contorts with ecstasy, hearing him breathe out an amused giggle even when he's balls fucking deep, "N'awh, dont be silly. You think you can hide how great you feel?". His fingers are so cruel to you, pinching and pulling at your nipples or slapping your ass to feel you clench just because he wants to be the one to bring out your true reactions. Just because he wants to let you know that 'I'm yours, I'll always be yours and you'll never find anyone that can keep you more truthful than me!'.

"I knowww," he'll pout to imitate you, "trust me, I know baby." You'll sometimes have the heart to argue back to him as he's above you, smiling and moaning breathily, claiming that he's way too confident. "I don't buy it, princess... n-nngh! All I have to do is ask your body, s-see?" Ness will grin, bright eyed and alert of your body language before lightly sliding his hand back and forth over your clit so you literally squirt on his command. He'll be able to see from a mile away that you're about to cum, so just let go won't you?

Eita Otoya fucks you with...

Oops... hasn't he told you yet? He fucks you with unreliability. Otoya will keep you on your toes, downright wary of him during sex. You'll never know when he's about to switch positions, change pace or— "F-Fuck, sorry babe..." bottom out... He'll never warn you, part of you thinks he forgets? But part of you thinks he does it on purpose due to those laidback, shitty excuses for apologies that make you think he's a scumbag. "You're so tight, you're so good~" he'll repeat from behind you, slamming into your sopping wet cunt one second and softly thrusting whilst caressing your hips the next. Unpredictable isn't even the word... He just seems to refuse letting you become accustomed to his cock, as if he's making sure you don't get too attached to him. Now if you actually knew the real reason why he'd be doing that... nah, you'd probably still beg for his cock even if he did think a relationship with you would be tiresome. He's too good.

Otoya doesn't even tell you when he's about to cum... thank god for birth control. You'll be screaming his name into your pillow as the headboard is making the wall crack, then suddenly: "tch! Ah~ yeahhh..." as his dick fills you with his loving, he calls it.

|| || || ||

[blankwashed]

Content Warnings: 18+ stuff here, ddlg (daddy dom, little girl), broken family, pretty rough sex, Toji himself should be a warning-

You let out a big sigh. It was probably the hardest or easiest essay you have ever gotten academically. It was an easy question for the rest of your classmates as they were happily writing away about their parents or guardians, thinking about the happy holidays and birthdays that they have received throughout their life.

15 minutes have passed and your paper was still blank, without even a paragraph structure. What could you write about your father? Sure, he wasn’t your actual father per se but your mother married him ever since you were a child so that counts, right?

At the age of 6, your mom kept going out on Friday nights, leaving you to be taken care of by your aunts and uncles. She would leave until it was Sunday night when she picks you up and brings you home. In the mind of a little child, you figured she went out for work purposes but in reality, she was going on dates with a special man whom you would eventually call dad.

Sometimes, she leaves you at home with food already prepared and brings him over. Of course, she would place your toys around the television and goes into the bedroom with the man. As you were innocent, you thought that they were both talking about business as your mother always looks pleased whenever she comes out of the room. A little tired, but a smile on her face.

This went on for 2 years until she came to you saying that you’ll finally have a father figure in your life. Of course, he was your father. The striking, muscular, tall man built like a soldier. Sometimes he made your heart beat faster and louder when he was around the home minding his own business. He watched you grow up into the gorgeous and pretty girl you are now. Attending teacher-parent meetings when necessary, signing documents and being your personal chauffeur whenever you and your friends wanted to go for outings to malls.

Behind all of that, you kept a deep and dark secret from everyone. Something you would not even tell your best friend or even a fly.

“Nyah! Daddy, sore from P.E. class yesterday! My teacher asked us to run laps and I think I overdid myself-“

He thrusted himself deeper into your dry pussy while his fingers were forming quick circles around your clitoris.

Sure, he filled the gap in your mom’s life when your actual dad left. But that wasn’t the only thing he was filling. Toji isn’t blind or stupid. Maybe a little out of his mind but as a man, he watched you grow up. Breasts forming, hips enlarging. It would be a lie if you say you didn’t secretly touched yourself thinking about him.

“No buts, bitch. Today was a hard day at work and the only thing that could make my day is your tight pussy. Mmm, thankfully it’s still tight,,,,,” He pushed himself deeper multiple times while playing with your clit. You were in pain due to the lack of foreplay and you remembered an idea you had in school during Arts class.

It was always something you’ve wanted to try. Running towards your school bag, rummaging through all your utensils.

Found it. A thick flowy strip of red ribbon.

“C‘mere daddy, let me decorate you before I feast on you,” smirking while tying a beautiful ribbon around his leaking hard cock. “Look daddy! It’s giving me a reward for making it look so appealing~” you said, referring to the trickles of pre-cum dripping.

Toji was about x years older than you. This wasn’t the first time he saw a chick gawking (no pun intended) at his length. Obviously that was also the way your own mother knew that he was the man for her.

“Getting creative, are we? Let daddy reward you for giving our play-time a little more effort,” he says lowly while playing with your left nipple with his tongue. His big hands always perform wonders on the rest of your body while his prize winning cock was busy elsewhere on your body.

Your moans were and are melodies to his ears. You weren’t big on being able to form sentences while getting fucked silly, however…

“Please daddy! I-I’m your little dirty slut, make me come daddy! I need it, I NEED you! Daddy…” you tried to touch your clit with your fingers but they were swatted away by his hand.

“When has it ever been about what you want, toy?” he spit on your pussy, and started to rub vigorously. It was in no way pleasurable and it hurt.

You knew he was doing this on purpose and knew that it wouldn’t get better if you kept disobeying his commands. With both your mom and Megumi away, he made you sit on the family’s dining table. Pushing away everything that could be in the way of him and you.

He pushed you down, readying himself to slurp on his wet, awaiting treasure. You were still a mess, moaning and screaming his name. “Daddy please, don’t make me wait any longer, please daddy,,,” your toes start curling and you could feel the long awaited climax reaching.

“Cumming daddy!!! Shit, I fucking love you-“ you screamed as you came while holding onto his broad shoulders. Your mind was as if it was in a different world, a world where Toji, your step-dad was yours. Where you didn’t have to hide your feelings towards him and you could touch him romantically and sexually in public.

so fucking horny for toji, are we???? (we as in me)

[mochatsin]

WHEN THE BROTHERS FORGOT YOUR DATE

You have plans with him to go out tonight and just spend some nice quality time together. However, sometimes things just don’t go your way. Something came up and your favorite demon may have forgotten about the date.

------------

Lucifer

He never meant to forget it. He was actually looking forward to it and he was also the one who made the necessary reservations for you two to eat at this fancy restaurant where you get to dress up and eat something so exquisite.

It was supposed to be a lovely evening for the both of you. All dolled up nicely while you get to experience fine dining, since it’s something you don’t normally do. This makes this little date special and you were so excited for it, the feeling was almost contagious around the house. 

Just as he was about to leave, Diavolo called for a last minute urgent meeting that required his attendance. It was something important so Lucifer couldn’t leave no matter how much he wanted to. Given the serious topic at hand, he was so focused on it that he forgot about the time. 

You tried to call him since you were already at the restaurant waiting for him. Lucifer found the buzzing of his phone incredibly distracting so he left it in his bag to focus on the meeting. 

As soon as he was dismissed, he checked his phone and he felt his heart stop for a moment when he saw the number of calls and texts from you. He can’t believe that he forgot something so important! 

He ran to the restaurant as soon as he could, still in his RAD uniform. He doesn’t care how much he sticks out like a sore thumb with his clothes in a restaurant full of well dressed demons, he doesn't want to let you wait for a single second.

To see you sitting alone, already finished with your own dinner while Lucifer’s has already gone cold and untouched, it made his heart break into two. It was supposed to be your special night with him after all, and he was already late. It hurts him more to see how dressed up you were, knowing how you must’ve planned this outfit for a while now. 

The sadness and disappointment in your eyes was enough to make him want to grovel on his knees and beg for your forgiveness in front of you and the entire restaurant. Pride be damned. 

You were about to leave, thinking that you shouldn’t waste your time here alone any longer and go home. Lucifer runs in to stop you “w-wait! I'm here now” He says, making you sit back down on the chair while he sits across you.

You could see that he practically ran from RAD all the way here, given how disheveled his hair is and how he’s still in uniform. Though it was already obvious, he explained why he was late. 

“I know I said it was important, but it’s not an excuse. You deserve to have a nice time, and I'll make it up to you. Only if you’ll let me.” You can see that he means well, so you decide to give him another chance. 

Your forgiveness means a lot to him so he smiles “I promise I won't make the same mistake ever again” and you spend the rest of the evening planning a second date with him. This time he lets you choose where to go, no questions asked. 

Lucifer makes sure to clear his schedule and let Diavolo know he has plans already so that he wouldn’t get caught up with work. You deserve his full attention tonight. He’s the one who arrives at the venue you picked out first, all dressed up nicely for you as he takes you by the hand “Shall we?” 

Mammon

He offered to take you out for a tour in the finest parts of Devildom, wanting to bring you to his favorite places to teach you more about the nightlife in the realm. 

Mammon was bragging about his little date with you to his brothers until Satan eventually says “okay but do you really expect MC to pay for that though? You don’t even have a single Grimm to your name…” 

That’s when he realized that he’s prepared for everything except financially. He did try to work to get some money but of course to him, the quickest way to get Grimm was through the casino. 

For once it did work and he was having a good winning streak. He’s never had this much Grimm before and he loves it! He doesn’t want to stop! He’ll milk everyone dry while lady luck is still smiling at him.

But his fixation on gambling got in his head that he forgot why he was doing this for. When you tried to call him for the 5th time, he finally picked up. 

“Whaddya need? I’m the middle of winnin’ something big here!” He says with his hands full of Grimm. Then he hears the disappointment in your voice when you realize he ditched you for gambling and he panics. 

“Ah… I see.” Is all you say. That’s enough to scare the living hell out of Mammon, a fear that rivals the chills he gets from Lucifer. 

“W-wha—?! N-no wait MC I just—“ before he could explain you dropped the call on him. You never really do that since you’re always so patient with him, so he knows that he really fucked up big time. 

He pulls out his winnings early and drives like a madman on his way to you. You were already walking back to the house with a sad look on your face. To think that Mammon was the one who was the one who wanted to bring you here, but he ended up just gambling. It was only fair to be upset.

You were a couple streets away from the House of Lamentation when Mammon drove up by your side and quickly ran to you, pulling you in for a hug. “I’d never forget about you!” He says, not wanting to let you go until you hear him out. 

“I just… I wanted to get some extra Grimm to treat ya out for tonight. I didn’t mean to ditch you, honest!” You can see the little puppy eyes through his shades, the Great Mammon on the verge of tears as he spends the next five minutes apologizing to you over and over until you forgive him. 

You give in, knowing now that he was just trying to get Grimm for you and not to indulge in his Greed. It makes him smile again and he practically lifts you off your feet as he hugs you tighter. 

“Come on! The night is still young, so let’s splurge a little yeah? My treat” He says before driving around the city to enjoy the nightlife as he promised. 

He decided to spoil you for today to make up for his mistakes. Whether it’s food or something that caught your eye, Mammon got you covered. May have bought you a bit too much, but it’s worth it to see you smile again. 

He does get scolded by his brothers afterwards for almost forgetting after Mammon spent three days bragging about it to them. You only told Asmo once after he asked how it went and he ended up telling the rest through gossip. Poor Mammon. 

Levi

There was an upcoming event in the mall nearby that sells some fan merch of your favorite series, and Levi was the first person you thought of to bring with you since he’s always going to those. 

Just as he was getting ready to leave, he finds a notification on his phone about a surprise early release of this anime he’s been dying to watch. It was supposed to be released tomorrow but it’s already available today! What kind of fan would he be if he missed this?!

Without realizing it, he finds himself glued to the computer watching the new episodes. You tried contacting him since you were already by the event waiting for him before so you two can go in together. After almost an hour, you decided to stop trying and go in yourself. 

Levi was already halfway when Mammon went into his room without permission. He wanted to snoop around to see if he could get his hands on something valuable, but he was much more surprised to see Levi still here. 

“You idiot! What are you doing here?! I’m too busy right now so go away!” Levi hissed, eyes still glued to the screen.

“Eh? I thought ya were supposed to be out in the mall with MC though?” Mammon says, motioning at the Ruri-chan themed clock in his room where her magical staff is pointing at late-o-clock.

“…” in a matter of seconds, Levi is now screaming as he sprints from his room all the way up to the mall. 

He opened his phone on his way to the mall and he panicked even more to see all the missed calls and texts from you. He’s normally good at scheduling, so he can’t believe he forgot about this one!

“SORRI I WND SO LTE IMMOM MY WAY” is what his shaky hands could type while he was still running, hoping you’re still in the event so he could catch up. Levi will never forgive himself if you’ve already left. 

He eventually spots you sitting alone in a nearby bench outside the event, with a handful of merch that you didn’t seem too happy with. 

He quickly runs up to you, still panting heavily as he basically had to sit down to let his aching legs rest. “S-sorry…” was the first comprehensive thing he could say in between breaths until he calmed down enough to give you a proper apology and explanation. 

Levi was about to go on with his self-destructive “i'm just a yucky otaku and I don’t deserve your time” speech but you’re the one in need of comforting, not him. He knows you’re going to spend your energy trying to cheer him up, but now it’s his turn!

“H-how about we go back in there? Let me buy you something you want! Then we can go home and rewatch your favorite episodes” he offers so that you two would have more quality time together. 

Levi bought you all the merch of your favorite character’s that he can find to compensate. 

Normally, he would’ve gone home and continued the anime he wanted to watch to pick up where he left off. Tonight, he lets you pick out what you wanted to watch and enjoy yourself. 

Satan

There was a new cafe that you wanted to visit with Satan after school, and he was more than happy to accompany you after his classes. You suggested that you both could read a book together there and talk about it, like a little book club meeting over some coffee or tea.

There’s nothing he enjoys more than just relaxing together with a warm drink and a book at hand with his favorite human, so he was looking forward to the last ring of the bell to meet you at the gates.

Though just as he was leaving, he was called for a meeting with Lucifer to arrange some sudden reports. As secretary of the RAD student council, he has no choice but to oversee his duties for the position appointed to him. But as the Avatar of Wrath, he absolutely hates how he needs to follow orders from Lucifer of all people. 

He has half the mind in doing his work, and the other trying to think of how to ingrain curses on the threads of Lucifer’s buttons so they would come undone no matter what to make a fool out of him. Just as he deserves. The thought of his buttons undone during a speech in front of RAD makes him grin.

By the time that Satan was done with everything he needed to do, he realized how late it’s been and saw your messages saying that you’re already by the gates, asking where he was. He ran as fast as he could by the gate, and guilt got worse when he saw you’re not there anymore.

‘Did you already go home? Are you safe? Where could you be?’ Those were the thoughts that were racing in his mind as he panics. He was an hour late after all so it’s understandable that you had to leave, but he doesn’t like the uncertainty of your whereabouts.

Satan texts Asmo asking for you and he receives a reply “Eh? MC said they’re already at the cafe! I thought you two were together?” after knowing that you went there on your own, he starts sprinting to the place he was supposed to escort you in. 

He finds you sitting by the window, alone on a table for two with a drink and a book at hand. Satan already feels bad that he made you go alone, doing the things he promised you two would do together. What’s worse is that you were reading a book that he recommended the other day. 

‘They really wanted to be here with me…’ was his thought as he stared at you from the window with sad eyes. You did end up spotting him from the window, which breaks him from his trance. What is he doing standing here like an idiot? He wastes no time and runs to the entrance.

Satan didn’t care if he banged the door knob against the wall when he stormed in, he quickly rushed to your side and apologized for his tardiness. “I promise MC, I'm never usually late for anything. I never meant to leave you alone like this…” 

You accept his apology and it brings a smile to his face, though he still feels a little guilty. “Why don’t I buy you a pastry to eat? It’s my treat. Then later, we can talk about the book together” it’s an offer you can’t exactly say no to. 

He makes up for his tardiness by spending all the quality time he can with you. You two talk about each other’s thoughts and opinions about the book, then you listen to Satan rant about how it’s all Lucifer’s fault he was late and his plans on ruining the rest of his clothes for the next formal meeting with Diavolo. 

Asmo

Asmo insisted you two go clothes shopping together to update your wardrobe. Given that you’re a new exchange, you didn’t really have a lot of clothes to begin with. Asmo is the best person for this job with his fashion sense, and it sounded like a fun idea to spend time with him so you agreed. 

Before he was about to leave, he finds a package addressed to him and it was the new makeup he’s been waiting for! He’s been itching to make a livestream where he just talks about the product while he applies it, so he does just that. 

A lot of people tuned in of course where he rambles about how the brand is good for his skin and makes him look like an absolute gem. The comments are boosting his ego as he continues to apply the makeup on stream. 

Asmo said that he was already on the way, but that last message was thirty minutes ago and there’s still no sign of him. When you checked up on him for updates, you saw that he’s currently live on Devilgram doing a commentary on the make up he’s been talking to you about for days. 

You know how much he loves doing content like these for his fans, but of course it still hurts that he couldn’t spare that time for you. So you left him a small message stating that you’re going to leave the mall and head to the purgatory hall instead, exiting the live stream as soon as you hit send. 

Asmo saw the notification banner pop up with your message on his phone and for a moment, his viewers thought that maybe the stream lagged because he suddenly stopped moving, frozen in place. 

You don’t see this since you left his stream, but you missed the part where he screams as he frantically grabs his phone with a “sorry loves!” As he ends it. You get a call and before you can get a word in, Asmo is yelling at you to stay first until he gets there. 

You stay there and in ten minutes, Asmo is there panting heavily with make up half done. “I-i didn’t mean to make you wait! Please don’t leave darling” He pleads. His neat appearance was ruined, and he hates the feeling of sweat on his skin. But he needed to catch up to you as soon as he could, he’ll fix himself later. 

Asmo wouldn’t stop apologizing, and he would be ready to make a scene to show how sorry he is. If publicly proclaiming his love for you is what it takes then you know he’d do it. Once you do forgive him, he’s going to stick to your side like glue while he goes shopping with you. 

He’ll treat you tonight by putting on the make up he was trying earlier on you this time. “You’ll look absolutely stunning with this! Especially with the clothes we bought today” and will definitely show you off like an artist unveiling his new masterpiece. 

Beel

After learning from Mammon that there was a brand new restaurant that opened up recently, Beel was so excited to visit it with you. He loves enjoying food with you, and the restaurant serves dishes that are more around your tastes when you check the menu. This makes the food trip all more exciting. 

Beel can’t stop thinking about the little date you two would have, and after checking the menu his stomach is growling in anticipation. He just needs to get through the day and he’s ready to meet you later for dinner. 

Though it wasn’t that easy since his coach needed him to train extra for an upcoming Fangol match. It was going to be a big competition apparently, so the coach needed everyone to be ready. 

The extensive work out really made him break a sweat, and he’s starving by the end of his training. But the rumbling of his tummy and cravings made him realize he forgot to update you about the time. He dives for his phone and finds several messages from you so he panics. 

Beel immediately calls you “M-MC! Sorry I didn’t mean to be so late! Are you still there?!” He asks as he practically runs out without taking a shower first. His shirt is definitely drenched in sweat but he hates the thought of making you wait any further.

You told him that you were already on the way home, since it’s been almost an hour and by the time you got there, the restaurant was already fully booked. You try to hide it, but Beel can hear from the other line how sad you sounded.

Beel is upset since he knows that you two would have had such a lovely time by now, eating the dishes you two called dibs on when you checked the menu together in his room. He feels that he let you down by not showing up on time. 

You two meet up halfway and you find Beel, sweating and panting heavily as he meets your eyes. Beel wanted to hug you to apologize, but he didn’t want you to feel how sweaty he was. 

While you wiped the sweat off his face, he pouted at you. “Sorry…” He mumbled. Beel was a man of few words, but that was enough to convey his feelings. You know he doesn’t really mean it, so you forgive him. 

You two spent the night getting take out dinner nearby since Beel practically sprinted on an empty stomach after hours of training and he’s not going to last any longer without food. It may not be the restaurant that you both planned, but the company is still pleasant.

After explaining his tardiness, you both decide to go to the restaurant together after his fangol match to celebrate. It would be like his reward for working so hard. That idea got Beel so motivated, he basically bulldozed his way to victory in that game.

Belphie

There was going to be a meteor shower tonight in Devildom and Belphie was ecstatic at the thought of it. It’s not uncommon in Devildom compared to the human realm, but it’s always a sight to see. So he wants to bring you along next time to the planetarium to watch it with him. 

Belphie figured that he still has enough time after his classes end to take a quick nap. Though being the Avatar of Sloth, a nap was approximately 8 hours for him and he’d still feel tired. What’s worse is that Belphie can fall asleep anywhere anytime, he can be very difficult to wake up too. 

Belphie nap was interrupted from the sound of Beel’s voice as his twin shook him awake. “Mmm… five more minutes…” The youngest groaned, eyes still shut as he tries to get some more sleep. 

“Belphie it’s been 5 hours” was enough words for the Avatar of Sloth to wake up and stand. “WHAT?!” He panics as he looks up the sky to see the meteors already falling. Crap!

Belphie makes his way to you at home and he finds you by the planetarium, sitting alone as you stare up the meteors. He can see that you prepared pillows and a blanket on the empty space next to you, and it aches him. You were clearly looking forward to this. 

Without a word, He gives you a hug from behind as he buries his face by your neck. He’s a little afraid to face you personally, because he doesn’t need to see the disappointment in your face to know that. 

“Sorry MC… I really am” He mumbles softly, holding you close. He didn’t even bother trying to watch the last few minutes of the meteor shower anymore, he just held you close for the whole duration. 

Only when you placed a hand above his that it made him look up at you again. You don’t need words, but he knows what you were trying to say. So he continues to embrace you. 

He doesn’t understand how you could forgive him so easily but… he’ll take it. He’ll vow to make sure you two enjoy the next meteor shower soon. 

Both of you just spent some quality time together, soaking in the silence for a while as the last meteor fell. You break the silence by asking about the constellations in the sky, and Belphie was happy enough to indulge in your questions and began talking about the stories behind it. 

Even if there were no more meteors, it was still a magical night under the stars. You two kept on talking and talking until you both fell asleep on the nest of pillows in the planetarium. Beel had to carry you both to your rooms.

Belphie started asking Beel for favors to wake him up in case he has an important event with you upcoming so he wouldn’t miss it again. He doesn’t trust any of the brothers except his twin with this role.