#and his mind is still trying to catch up to his body

[hoshifighting]

tutor!woozi (part 2)

check the part 1 (kinktober bonus)

WARNINGS: +18, smut, (oral f. & m.), throat fucking, penetrative sex, mentions of body fluids (cum, spit)

after that night, for all the times you’d wanted to text him, your ego kept its foot firmly on the brake. if jihoon thought you’d just come crawling back after his little remark, he was dead wrong. it didn’t matter how much your body craved another taste of him; no way were you about to give him that satisfaction. besides, it wasn’t like you were the only one who enjoyed that night, despite his attitude. if he wanted it again, HE’d have to come to you.

over the next week, every hallway encounter was a battle of wills. you’d pass by him with your friends, glancing away just slightly so you wouldn’t have to meet his gaze. and while your friends couldn’t help but notice the way jihoon’s friends looked at you as you walked by—waiting for the smirk you always used to throw his way—you’d hold your chin up and act like he didn’t even exist.

the whispers had started up again, too. after all, you and jihoon had been seen together plenty at the start of the semester, supposedly “studying” for a class you knew you didn’t even share. his friends had even toasted him over some rumor that tutoring wasn’t the only “learning” happening during those sessions. and now? they watched you like they were trying to figure out if you’d switched interests, especially when they saw you walking through campus with someone else’s arm casually slung over your shoulder. jihoon’s friends wore confused expressions, and if jihoon himself noticed…well, he didn’t give a single clue.

but it was getting harder to ignore it. especially tonight.

it was 9 pm, and you were dressed and ready for a night at the local bar, hoping a little drink and dance would be enough to take your mind off him completely. heading out, you made the mistake of cutting through his dorm hall, almost jogging to keep the tension from catching up with you. maybe he’d be out. or maybe he was too busy doing something else. you didn’t care. but as you neared the end of the hallway, a hand caught your arm, yanking you backward so quickly that you stumbled.

before you could react, you found yourself inside a dorm room, the familiar smell already cluing you in to where you were before you could fully process it. jihoon’s hand was still around your arm, the dorm was silent, the noise of the hall muffled as the door clicked shut behind you.

“where are you running off to, dressed like that?”

your pulse was racing, but you gave him a steady look, shrugging your arm free of his grip. “does it matter?” you smirked, turning as if to open the door, only to feel him step even closer behind you, blocking the way.

“what’s wrong with you?” you ask, crossing your arms.

you knew you had his attention, and now, for whatever reason, it looked like he couldn’t hold back anymore. jihoon opens his mouth like he’s about to answer, but he bites his tongue, his gaze dropping to the side as if the walls would have a solution for him.

“what’s wrong with me?” he finally retorts, jaw tense. “you had to ignore me that hard in front of my friends? couldn’t even throw a glance my way?”

you let out a genuine laugh. “weren’t you the one who told me not to reach out to you unless i wanted a ‘good fuck’? well, sorry, but didn’t seem worth it.”

his eyes flash. “really? ‘cause you seemed pretty into it at the time,” he counters, almost daring you to deny it.

“maybe i was.” you shrug. “but maybe i got over it.”

jihoon’s jaw clenches, and he takes a half step forward, closing the space separating you. “over it? you think you can just get over it that easy?”

“why not?”

he lets out a scoff, shaking his head. “you’re full of it. bet you thought about that night as much as i did. don’t. lie.”

your heart races, but you lift your chin defiantly. “if i’m full of it, then so are you, mr. i-don’t-need-anyone-reachin’-out-to-me. didn’t think you’d care if i ignored you. you’re all talk jihoon.” you tease, looking up at him, daring him to prove you wrong.

“all talk?” he scoffs, his mouth inches from yours, but he doesn’t close the gap. “maybe you need a reminder of how ‘not worth it’ i was.”

before you can reply, his hand slides down to the curve of your hip, pulling you close as his other hand tilts your chin up. his lips brush against yours in the faintest tease of a kiss before he pulls back, just enough to keep you wanting.

you let out a frustrated huff, trying to close the distance, but he holds you in place, a cocky smirk creeping onto his face. “not so fast... you wanted this, didn’t you?”

“you know i did.”

“so admit it... admit you wanted me to come after you.”

your pride fights to hold out, but the way his fingers dig into your ass meat, the way his voice drops just for you, it’s impossible to resist. “fine,” you whisper back. “i wanted you to come after me.”

he’s leaning in, lips parted, ready to crash into yours finally when your hand presses against his chest. he freezes, eyes flicking up to yours, searching. “bad boys don't get kissed.” you mock, savoring the way his expression falters.

he recognizes that phrase. he opens his mouth, maybe to protest, but he just closes his eyes, breathing out a low exhale through his nose, clearly biting back his response.

but the fury in his eyes returns, darker, and without a word, his hand slides up to the back of your neck, pulling you down with a grip that tells you exactly where this is going.

you let him guide you onto your knees.

“fine,” he mutters, voices gravelly, fingers grazing your jaw. “don’t need your kiss, anyway. got a better idea.”

his thumb drags along your lower lip, pressing until you open your mouth for him, and he can’t hide the hungry look that flashes across his face.

“this mouth of yours,” he mutters, thumb slipping between your lips. “always running it, always pushing me.” he watches intently as you take him in, tongue curling around his thumb, obedient despite the defiance in your eyes. “bet you’ll think twice about mouthing off when you’re choking on my cock.”

he undoes his shorts string, sliding it off, and before you know it, he’s pushing the fabric down just enough to free himself, his cock standing hard, thick and flushed in front of you.

he strokes himself slowly, dragging his length along your lips, smearing precum over them like lipgloss as he says, “you tap my thigh if you need a breath, got it?”

you nod, mouth already watering as you part your lips wider, letting him guide himself between them. his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling just enough to make you feel the sharp tug, and then he starts pushing forward, filling your mouth inch by inch until he’s pressing against the back of your throat.

he doesn’t ease up. he moves faster, driving deeper until he’s hitting that spot that makes your throat clench around him, your eyes watering instantly. spit starts to collect at the corners of your mouth, sliding down your chin as he pulls back only to push in again, even deeper this time, his cock stretching your throat wide, demanding every inch of space.

“all that attitude… gone.” his hand tightens in your hair, holding you still as he starts thrusting with a rough rhythm, hips snapping forward. “bet you’d do anything to prove me wrong now, wouldn’t you?”

he’s relentless, each thrust pressing your mouth and throat to their limits, your gag reflex triggered with every push. you feel spit pooling, slipping past your lips as you struggle to keep up with him, swallowing around his length even as he reaches deeper, his cock twitching at the tight, involuntary clenches of your throat.

you’re practically dripping, reduced to whimpers and gasps as he fucks your mouth, his hips rolling forward again and again, no space left for anything but him. when he pulls back for a second, a trail of spit stretches between your lips and the head of his cock, and he groans, wiping the mess over your cheek before plunging in again, going even harder.

“so pretty like this,” he mutters, watching as your eyes grow wetter, each thrust forcing a new wave of spit down your chin and neck, over his thighs. your fingers gripping his thighs for balance, and he smirks, giving a particularly sharp thrust that has you choking, throat convulsing as a line of spit drips down your chin. “that’s right. take it all.”

he starts slowing, grinding his hips forward, keeping himself pressed deep as he lets out a low groan, feeling the way you tremble. and then he thrusts one last time, deeper than before, pushing himself right to the base. he lets out a ragged breath as he stills, his cock twitching as you feel him tense, holding himself there, filling your throat as he spills into you, viscous and hot.

you swallow as best as you can, the bitter taste coating your tongue, but he doesn’t let you pull back right away.

you let the fullness press down on your throat until the edges of your vision begin to blur, the air thinning, everything swimming. you tap his thigh rapidly, a faint, desperate plea, and just as your lungs burn hottest, he releases, pulling you back with a hand steadying your shoulder. you slump onto your heels, shoulders sagging as you gulp down air, your head swimming with the remnants of his hold on you.

his hands stay firm on your shoulders, keeping you steady as you breathe, your throat aches, stretched and raw, the sting of his rough pace lingering with every shallow gulp.

as he maneuvers you onto the bed, his hands slide down impatiently and your dress and panties are gone all in once. he pauses for a moment, taking you in, his gaze raking over the sight of your swollen lips and sultry eyes, glazed with that barely-there smirk. 

he cant do this right now.

he grips your arm, twisting you to fall chest-first onto the mattress, hips lifted up as his arm curls around you.

“you—” you scoff, voice raspy, “can’t you fuck me while looking at my face?”

he lets out a low laugh, leaning close to your ear as his hand slides down your back. “oh, i think you’ve had enough of my face for tonight… plus, i think you look even better like this—bent over and whining.”

you couldnt even have a second to roll your eyes, a comeback on the tip of your tongue, but he’s already there, pressing into you suddenly, stretching your pussy in one hard, unrelenting thrust that punches the breath right out of your lungs. a cry rips from you, loud and hoarse, and you brace yourself against the mattress, fingers twisting into the sheets as your whole body shakes.

"that shut you up?” he breathes, hands digging into your hips as he sets a bruising pace. you can’t even catch your breath, every thrust leaving you reeling, gasping for air. tears prick at your eyes, spilling over as he hits that spot, so precise it’s maddening.

“fuck—s-so deep—” you choke out, incoherent as you press your cheek to the sheets, gripping the fabric so hard your knuckles ache. his fingers dig into the meat of your hips, pulling you back to meet every thrust, his balls slapping your clit making you convulse with everythrust. 

“thought you wanted this, yeah?” he taunts, leaning down. “thought you liked it rough. what, too much for you now?”

“n-no—” you manage, though the word comes out in a broken sob, your voice betraying you. he’s unrelenting, snapping his hips forward with every word, and you can feel yourself falling apart, the way he’s not holding anything back. it’s dizzying and yet you can’t help but crave it, want more, need more.

“thought you could handle it, acting all cocky,” he sneers, giving your ass a hard smack that makes you jolt, a fresh tide of tears spilling down your cheeks.“crying for it. pathetic.”

you let out a choked, breathless sob, the humiliation only heightening the need simmering inside you. “p-please…” you whimper, unable to do anything but plead as he keeps driving into you.

“oh, now you’re begging?” he laughs. “all that attitude, all that talk, and now you’re nothing but a crying mess on my bed.”

another broken cry slips out of you, and he chuckles. his hands trail down your spine, his fingers digging into your skin, grounding you, steadying you in the haze.

“you’re so fucking pretty like this,” he coos. “all desperate… should’ve known you’d like it this way.”

you can’t respond, can’t do anything but let out a helpless, broken cry, body arching, straining against him as you feel your orgasm approaching. and even then, he doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, keeping you there.

“you thought you could come in here all high and mighty that night.. now look where that got you.”

“shut up,” you manage to gasp as he snaps his hips harder, the sound echoing in the small space. “you’re—” another thrust cuts you off, drawing another whimper from your throat.

“i’m what? too rough for you? too much for that little mouth of yours? you’ve got no problem talking back when you’re not getting fucked, huh?”

“i said shut up!” you cry out, though your voice is shaky, betraying you. “you’re just—oh my god—”

“just what?” 

“i hate you,” you whimper, even as your body betrays you, arching into him, chasing that sweet friction.

he can hear the contradiction.

“sure you do,” he laughs softly, his breath warm against your skin.

the moment you squeeze him harder, makes him wince, his cock feels so sensitive, after that last mind-blowing orgasm, and he can’t help but throw his head back, his breath hitching in his throat as he fights to control himself.

you’re lost in your own world, eyes shut tight as you cling to him, and he uses that to his advantage. with a smirk curling on his lips, he pulls out slowly, relishing the way your body protests against the emptiness.

“n-no, jihoon!” you whine, instinctively reaching for him. you grab his hand from behind your back, intertwining your fingers with his, a silent plea not to tease you anymore. 

“c’mon, jihoon, just stop teasing me already.” you push your ass against his hips, a cheeky slap echoing in the room. 

he would be lying if he says it doesn’t turn him on, when your existence is enough to make his blood run hot. as he lowers himself behind you, he can’t help but watch the way your pussy clenchesaround nothing, how your curves seem to invite him in. 

he leans in, letting his breath ghost over your skin before he dives in, his tongue swirling around your dripping pussy. you cry all cute on his sheets, like his tongue was a sweet and massaging reward after he destroyed your cunt with his thick lenght.

he lets your clit rest under his tongue as he dives the tip of the wet, pinky muscle, between your folds. just to flick the tongue down again and take the throbbing nerve inside his mouth, making you sob.

his tongue dances across your folds, the slickness of your cum coating him. his mouth is warm and inviting, eager haven as he drinks you in. he alternates between languid licks that tease your puffy lips and insistent flicks that make you roll your eyes. 

your hands tangle in his hair from behind, pulling him closer as you urge him on, the silky strands slipping through your fingers. his fingers tighten around your thighs, holding you firmly in place as he plunges his tongue deeper, swirling it around inside you.

your body is a symphony of slickness, the remnants of your cum coating his chin and the skin around his mouth. he dives back in, tongue swirling around your entrance, licking up every drop of your honey before turning his attention back to your clit.

“i’m so close, jihoon,” you whimper. “that's it!”

he responds by sucking your clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it while his fingers push into you, the pressure of them stretching you just right. 

as if on cue, you feel that big hot bubble in your lower belly snap, you cry out, each pulse of the orgasm making you tighter around his fingers. 

jihoon couldn't shake the feeling of unease as he watched you get up from his bed, your movements quiet and subdued after your intense orgasm. the post-orgasm glow faded too quickly.

“where do you think you’re going?” he asked as he pulled you back down onto the bed. you landed softly, your eyes wide and innocent as you frowned at him.

“i’m… leaving?” you said, trying to keep your tone light.

he exhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as he fought against the frustration. “you’re only saying that because of how i made you leave the last time, aren’t you?”

you shifted slightly, looking away as if the truth was too difficult to face. “maybe..” you admitted softly, and that single word made his heart sink.

“i’m sorry about that,” he said, sincerity lacing his tone. “i miss those tutoring classes, you know? i didn't mean to push you away like that. it’s just… i think—”

“you think?” you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly. “you told me not to come after you unless i wanted a good fuck. not very delicate.”

“that was a mistake,” he insisted, as he searched your eyes. “i didn’t think it would end up like this. i thought we were just messing around.” he ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face. “but i want more than that. i like having you around.”

you looked at him, your expression softening just a little. “so, what? you want to tutor me again? pretend like we didn’t just…” you trailed off.

“no,” he replied firmly. “i want to be honest with you. i want you to want me, not just as a way to fill some need… just like i want you.” he paused, gathering his thoughts.

“so you’re just going to keep me here, like this?” you asked, tilting your head. 

“if you’ll let me,” he replied. “just stay.”

“you really think it’s that easy? just because we had one good round?”

“it’s not just about the sex,” he said, getting nearer. “i want to explore more than that, but only if you’re willing.”

“and if i’m not?” you asked.

“then i guess i’ll have to work a little harder to change your mind,” he teased lightly.

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile creeping onto your lips. “good luck with that, jihoon. i’m not that easy.”

“i never thought you were,” he smirked, leaning closer. “but i’m willing to put in the effort. so, what’s it gonna be?”

you bit your lip, “maybe i’ll stick around for a little while longer,” you replied, leaning back into the bed with a teasing smile.

“good choice.”

[stxrslut]

SUGARY SWEET ⋆.𐙚˚

summary; you’re so desperate to try cocaine, you see rafe with it all the time, you don’t understand why he doesn’t let you have it considering he loves it so much. little do you know, the sucker cares, and he doesn’t want to corrupt your sweet little mind 

content; dealer!rafe(?), drunk reader, placebo effect

rafe is at the back of the party like always, doing his usual dealings with the coke that he gets from barry, a simple side hustle to get some extra money his dad doesn’t need to know about. 

he’s not entirely sure where you are, though he has a pretty good idea that you’re out on the floor, dancing around and drinking far too much alcohol for your body to handle. he hopes it stays that way too, he knows that it will be difficult the moment you come back to see him.

you had been nagging him recently, nagging him because you wanted to try coke. he’d said no of course, multiple times, over and over again. he knows you only want to try it because you see him doing it, and of course you can’t have any interest of your own, you need to do what he does all the time. 

the last three parties you’d been to, you’d been on his back all night begging for him to just put one teeny tiny line on your gums. he didn’t want to though. you see, as irresponsible and psycho-crazy as rafe is, he knows how innocent you are. he knows you haven’t been touched by the world and he doesn’t want to be the one to bring you into the cold hard reality where things hurt. that means no hard drugs for you. 

when packing for the party, he'd prepared a little something to sate the inevitably drunk you that will come bouncing over at some point, desperate to become more intoxicated. just a little placebo that he hopes will slip past your notice. 

it’s just past midnight when it comes to the point where he decides to use it.

you’re completely off your face as you hobble down to the back of the room where rafe is located on one of the couches, doing his dealings of course. “rafeeee,” you giggle, falling down to conveniently land in his lap. “hii,” you speak in drunken affection, bringing a pointy nailed finger up to touch his nose. 

“hi baby,” he murmurs, not paying a lot of attention to you as he multitasks the conversation with counting a stack of bills that somebody had handed him. “you okay?” he asks absently. 

“mmh… I’m okay… want somethin’ though.” you smile, another giggle bubbling up your throat,  “want you to give me a lineee,” you singsong the obvious statement that rafe was expecting.

he chuckles, “yeah? still hung up on that huh..” he shakes his head in small amusement at your absolute persistence on trying the drug, more lighthearted about it now that he knows he has a solution. “well I got something for you.” 

he places the stack of bills down, making sure to mark his place in counting before digging into a bag beside him and pulling out a small ziplock baggy filled with white powder. your eyes widen, “is that it,” you say in excitement. 

rafe nods, “yes it is baby.” no it isn’t, it’s actually powdered sugar, pinched from your own stock that you keep for baking sweet treats. but you don’t have to know that, in fact he’s counting on the fact that you don’t notice in your extremely drunken state. 

“ooh!” you clap your hands, “thank youuu rafe I’m so excited!” you watch as he clicks the bag open and gathers some of the substance on his thumb. then he brings it up towards you. 

“you’ll want it on your gums,” he tells you, which is true, you think that snorting it would be barbaric. “open your mouth.” he orders gently.

you do as you’re told, parting your lips and letting him put his thumb into your mouth so that he can smear the powder onto your gums. 

it’s sweeter than you expect, way sweeter, almost like sugar. you say as much, “sweet,” you remark in surprise, though you don’t catch onto the ruse one bit, in fact, you think you may be beginning to feel the buzz.

rafe smiles at you and nods, “like sugar, special batch just for you baby.” oh well, you feel flattered. your boyfriend loves you so much that he got a whole special batch for you.

“oh rafe!” you giggle, “you shouldn’t haveee,” you’re so happy, the music seems so much louder oh, the dance floor is calling you. “I’m so happyyy,” you smile, “I love this song!” 

rafe’s plan has been very much successful. you are entirely convinced that you are currently riding the wave of intoxication that a line of cocaine provides. he chuckles, “yeah? you love this song? why don’t you go dance?” he suggests, immediately catching your agreement. 

“oh yeah. yeah!” you bounce off of his lap, standing up with a newfound bout of energy. “I love you rafe,” you begin to walk off, “thankyou so much!” you shout finally while in far too close proximity to him. 

he shakes his head in amusement before going back to his work. he never thought he’d pick a girl like you, a girl so innocent and so sheltered. but god he loves you, and he wants to keep you exactly the way you are. 

[greengoblinswifey]

Could you possibly do a Nicholas Chavez smut that involves recording you guys doing it thank you smsm much love

warnings— praise kink, oral(m&f receiving), degrading kink, daddy kink, unprotected sex, ass slapping, creampie, breeding kink.

hope you enjoy, like and reblog <3

You could hear the water running as you picked up the small digital camera, a mischievous idea forming in your mind. Slipping quietly into the bathroom, you saw Nicholas through the fogged glass, water cascading down his skin. He looked sexy, his body warm and slick from the shower, unaware of your presence until he caught sight of you and the camera in your hand.

Raising an eyebrow, he smirked. “What are you up to?”

You pressed ‘record,’ angling the camera at him as he finished rinsing off. “I thought maybe we'd make memories,” you teased, watching his expression shift from surprise to intrigue.

He stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel, and you kept the camera on him, following every movement as he ran the towel over his damp skin. “So, we’re making amateur porn now?” he joked, grinning.

You shrugged playfully. “Maybe. I mean, we never watch porn, why not make our own?”

He chuckled, a bit of excitement in his eyes. “I like that idea. Always thought it’d be something to look back on, our little moments.”

“Then you’re on board?” you asked, feeling your cheeks heat up as you recorded his soft, yet intensely curious gaze.

“Absolutely,” he replied, stepping closer. “Let’s capture every second.”

Once you were in the bedroom, you aimed the camera toward him, focusing on every detail—the hard lines of his abs, the toned muscles in his arms, the way his skin caught the low light. You couldn’t hold back a smile. “God, you’re so hot,” you murmured, letting the words slip out without a second thought. His face lit up with a grin, one that was both flattered and a bit cocky.

Nicholas took a few steps closer, closing the distance between you, and gently took the camera from your hands. “Here,” he said, setting it on the TV stand so it angled perfectly toward the bed. “Now we’ll have the best view of you.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, but he just leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. The two of you fell back onto the bed, bodies pressed close. His hands found their way to your hips, and your gaze drifted toward the camera, noticing the small red light recording. He smirked, catching where you were looking.

“Bet you look hot on there,” he whispered, his voice low. Then he pulled back, a spark in his eyes. “Actually, I have an idea.”

Curious, you tilted your head as he went to grab the camera again. He handed it to you, guiding your hand until you were holding it just above you. His gaze held a mischievous glint as he settled himself between your legs, giving you a reassuring squeeze on your thigh.

“Hold it steady,” he said, his voice warm with a hint of a challenge. His eyes flickered between you and the lens. “Want you to see just how good you look.”

You could barely focus on holding the camera as his mouth attached to your clit, his movements slow, deliberate. He glanced up, catching your eyes and giving you a smile that sent shivers down your spine. You tried to keep the camera steady, but each look he gave you made it harder to concentrate, each gentle touch feeling somehow magnified through the lens.

“Think you’re gonna be able to keep it still?” he teased, looking up at you with a grin.

You gave a soft laugh, your breath hitching. "I’ll try."

Nicholas’ eyes flicked to the camera, then back to you. “Good, because I want you to watch.”

Watching Nicholas through the lens, you couldn’t help but feel your pulse quicken. He looked incredible, every muscle flexing, his gaze entirely focused on you. When he glanced up, his eyes filled with a dark intensity, he murmured, “Tell me how good it feels.”

Your voice came out breathy, almost a whisper. “It feels amazing, you’re amazing daddy.”

He leaned down, pressing his lips along your collarbone, and then you felt his fingers slip inside, gentle but confident. Your reaction was immediate, a moan that you didn’t even realize was so loud until you saw him smirk, eyes flicking to the camera for a second. “Can’t wait to hear these sounds on playback,” he murmured, a glint of satisfaction in his voice.

When you finally reached your release, he held you close, trailing soft kisses over your shoulders and up to your jaw. “You did so good for me baby,” he whispered, brushing a few strands of your braids from your face. His voice was soothing, grounding you.

He glanced at the camera, then back to you with that mischievous smile. “Now it’s my turn to hold this.” He picked up the camera, positioning it to capture everything. “Get on your knees for daddy,” he said, his voice laced with a teasing authority.

You moved into position, looking up at the lens with wide, needy eyes that made him groan softly. “Just like that,” he murmured, his fingers slipping into the braids framing your face as he recorded.

You took his thick cock into your mouth, and he let out a pleased sigh, running his fingers through your braids, guiding you gently. “Such a good girl for daddy,” he breathed, voice dropping to a near whisper. His gaze shifted between you and the camera, clearly savoring every second.

As things reached a peak, he pulled back, his breaths heavy. “Look into the camera for me,” he said, his thumb gently tilting your chin. You looked up, meeting the lens with a soft smile as he murmured, “So hot, you’re perfect.” You stuck your tongue out as he came all over your face, the camera capturing your best angles. He moaned in contempt as you licked your lips and the tips of his cock, amazement swelling inside him.

He lowered the camera, the appreciation in his eyes clear as he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a sloppy kiss.

Nicholas looked at you, his eyes dark with intensity. “I want you to ride daddy’s dick, sweetheart,” he murmured, settling himself back against the headboard. You moved to straddle him, feeling the warmth and closeness between you as you positioned yourself. He adjusted the camera, making sure it captured the two of you perfectly.

As you lowered yourself, his hands found your waist, a smile tugging at his lips. “Just like that baby, so good,” he praised softly. His gaze flicked to the camera for a second before landing back on you. “Look at you. So beautiful—you love this, don’t you?”

You felt his hands slide lower, gripping you tighter to guide your movements. With a small grin, he gave you a gentle slap on the ass, urging you to pick up the pace. “Faster slut,” he whispered. Your rhythm grew more intense as he admired you, glancing back at the camera with a proud smile. “See how perfect she is?” he murmured, almost to himself.

He moved with you until he set the camera back on the table, making sure it captured your entire bodies moving in synce. His voice was a low encouragement, “Come on, beautiful. Let go for me.”

With his words, you felt yourself relax completely in his arms, letting the orgasm sweep over you. Just as you caught your breath, he carefully moved you onto your back, keeping his focus on you. His eyes met yours, his gaze warm and intent as he leaned closer.

“Tell me,” he murmured, a playful smirk in his eyes as he looked between you and the camera. “Who’s making you feel this good?”

Barely able to speak, you answered softly, “You daddy.”

With a proud, tender smile, he wrapped his arms around you, his hips snapping against you. “You’re such a slut for me baby, only sluts want to be amateur pornstars,” he panted, his thrusts speeding up and making the bed frame slam against the wall.

His words had you on the edge and you wrapped your legs around him, meeting his thrusts and grinding against his pelvis. “See, what did I tell you? You’re such a slut, sweetheart.”

Nicholas' hands found your neck, his grip firm as he held you close. “Come on, beautiful, let go for daddy, right on my cock,” he murmured, his voice thick with pride and encouragement. Your body responded, a wave spurting from your pussy as you gasped his name.

His hands moved to cradle your face, and with a gentle yet intense look, he said, “My turn.” Carefully, he shifted you onto your stomach, his hands warm and steady on your hips. As he leaned closer, his breath brushed against your ear, and he whispered, “Just like this baby.”

The closeness, the trust, everything between you felt powerful. He pulled you back to him by your neck, his arms wrapped securely around it.

“I’m gonna cum baby,” he began, his hips slamming against your ass, “and I’m gonna do it inside you. I’m gonna get you pregnant, get this sexy fucking body swollen with my babies. This is gonna be our baby making tape and we’re gonna look back at it one day and know this is how we made our baby.”

Lost in the warmth and intensity of his words and presence, you felt safe as he held you close, thrusting into your squelching heat. The recording light blinked softly in the background, capturing the moment. With a groan of your name, you felt him still inside you, filling you up to the brim. Nicholas chuckled softly, looking over at the camera with a playful grin. “Guess that’s a wrap, folks,” he teased, making you both laugh as he clicked the stop button.

Settling back into the bed, you rested in his arms, his presence comforting and steady as he held you close. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his fingers gently tracing along your back as you began to drift to sleep, feeling completely at ease in the warmth of his embrace.

[lostinlads]

Floof Attack

Synopsis: Xavier had always been a clingy kitty, one of the perks working from home is that he could always be at your side. But leaving for a few days to attend your friend's wedding had been a mistake. You find your sweet boy out in the garden. With his back turned to you, you try to draw his attention, but he only feels abandoned. How do you deal with a sulking Xavikitty? Well, you don't need any hints. You know exactly where to pet to get a cat purring.

Tags: xavier x afab!reader, MDNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED, no use of y/n, smut, porn with little plot, not proofread, guided handjobs, outdoor sex, fluff, use of pet names (kitty, sweet star, darling, sweet boy, my love), pouty xavier, yearning, soft sex, CATBOY!XAVIER, jeremiah and jenna mention

Words: 4.2k

a/n: in light of the new banner and my hyperfixation on catboys i have decided to release fics about them! i hope you enjoy! ive been sitting on these plots since they have been announced so they arent 100% accurate to the cards but they have my own spin on them!

ao3 Yes, Cat Caretaker master list

You step out of the cab and as soon as your feet touch the ground you sigh, happily. You're home, finally. After a weekend away for Jenna's wedding you wanted nothing more than to climb onto your couch, stretch out and nap - but not without your loving kitty, Xavier. He had been upset with you leaving for the weekend, not able to bring him along, to the point he nearly stole your suitcase from you to force you to stay. The look on his sad face as you closed the door on him etched into your mind - the slight tremble to his lip, his wide blue eyes glossy, and his fluffy ears sagging as he stood in the living room watching you go. 

Your mutual friend Jeremiah stopping by a few times a day with takeout, so Xavier doesn't burn your house down and to keep him company. Even sending you a few sneakily taken pictures of him napping, curling in on himself, fluffy tail resting over his stomach. It only made you miss him more and more each day, to feel his soft fur under your fingertips, his warm body enveloping you as you sleep, to see him perched on the counter as you make food. It only took you three days to realize how much he took up your life, how every little thing made you think of him. 

But you were finally home, walking up to your front door as the weight in your chest finally lifts. As you make your way inside, noting the stillness of the house as you set your bags by the door. You want to call out to him, but the thought of waking your sleepy kitty stops you in your tracks. 

An hour ago, Jeremiah left, messaging you that he left Xavier on the couch sleep as he left your home. Seeing that he wasn't there, only left you the option to go look for him. You make your way through your small, shared home, looking in all of his usual hang out and nap spots to find nothing. You peek out of your kitchen window, out to your garden. Seeing movement your eyes catch a glimpse of a pair of fluffy ears, and a thick swishing tail. 

Grabbing the small gift bag you brought home for him, you make your way outside. Lush grass under your sandals, birds singing in nearby trees, the scent of flowers filling your senses. Xavier was found crouching by a patch of forget-me-nots, ears flicking back towards you, obviously listening to your footsteps as you approach. You sit behind him on the small bench next to a tree, placing the bag beside you as you watch your sweet kitty. 

"I'm home," Your voice sweet, almost relieved. Xavier's tail swishes and his ears flick back towards you before they fixate themselves forward again. 

''Hmph," He pouts, not taking his eyes from his flowers. Your sulking Xavikitty obviously isn't impressed with your leave, not wanting to even talk to you shows how upset he was for being left home alone. Time to step up your game and hopefully make it up to your sensitive cat boy. 

You reach into the bag at your side, fingers brushing past the dried fish treats, small cat toys, and finally land on the cat wand. You pull it out, slowly in hopes the bell doesn't jingle just yet. Holding it out to his side you pause before you shake it. Watching the sun rays on his creamy white skin, making his light blond hair glow like an angel. The fluff of his ears almost creating a halo around his head. Times like this, you are reminded how blessed you were that he was your companion, having the most beautiful cat person at your side for a lifetime. With a smile you shake the toy, a soft jingle perking his ears high on his head.

"...A bell?" He questions, whipping around fast. His eyes find the toy, then slowly trail up to you making eye contact. His ears droop, a pout set on his pink lips as he looks at you. You take the opportunity to shake the toy again, summoning him closer to you. Luckily it works, Xavier turning more as you lift the toy in the air above his head. You watch him try to catch it, just out of his reach, hands clasping nothing but air as you move it away, closer to you. He follows it, crawling closer to you until you finally let him grasp it. One hand closing around the toy as the other closes around your hand, holding it still long enough for him to slip the wand from it. 

"I'm pretty sure you got what you wanted. Why are you still shaking it?" Pouting as he places the wand at his feet, brows furrowed as he looks into your eyes. His hand never leaves yours, the warmth of his skin on yours already melting your heart, telling you that you're home, that your love is right here. 

"I haven't, actually." You say with a shake of your head, his ears perking back up. "But I'm close to getting it." Taking his hesitation, you slip your hand from his grasp, other hand coming up to his soft ear. Xavier dodges your touch, moving his head to the side as he lets out a shocked gasp. But you reach back, his ear twitching just before your fingers slowly caress his soft fur. He hums, almost as if he's proving a point, leaning gently into your touch. Blush creeping up to his cheeks, painting them a beautiful soft pink as his eyes meet yours again. Shiny blue eyes with gorgeous long eyelashes landing on your face, obvious protest in them as he almost forces himself to still hold a grudge. 

"So you remembered to be gentle with my ears," He pouts once more in an almost whine. Lips pursed, eyebrows scrunched, accusingly. You laugh, rubbing his soft hair, loving your pouty kitty. Though it wasn't often, Xavier could be one of the most pouty, whiny cats you've ever met. Usually after meeting stray cats or occasionally men, coming home and smelling them on your clothes and skin, always huffing with his ears flat to his hair.

Your hand travels back up to his ear, sensitive to the touch as always. Thumb pressing firm against his inner ear, fingers wrapping behind as you stroke up, thick fur slipping between as you make your way back down. Xavier's breath deepens, eyes closing in the sensation of his hypersensitivity. You glide your hand back up to the tip, rubbing the thin flesh between your hand - something that always drove him crazy.

"Why do you keep pushing your luck when you find an opening?" He pants out, breath heavy as he revels in your touch. Dragging your hand down, you cup his cheek. A sweet smile playing on your lips as your thumb swipes along his smooth, soft skin. He leans into you, wanting nothing more than to nuzzle into your warmth - something he has been denied for the entire weekend. As he tries, you pull away, his ears drooping, eyes softening into an almost pathetic plea for you.

"We don't stop halfway when it comes to these things, right?" His own way of begging you to continue, to please and love on him until he gets his fill. You obey with a soft chuckle, hand reaching up to his untouched ear to stroke it. Both twitching at your touch, an instant reaction as your fingers glide over the fur. Slowly, his composure slips, leaning his head against your arm as you brush your nails over him. His hot breath fanning on your skin as he moves his head to match your motions, intensifying the sensation. You watch as your kitty's eyes roll, lids fluttering shut as his lips part, his blush deepening under his pretty eyes. His fluffy tail behind him sways almost on its own in satisfaction.

"Yeah..." He moans out, lids lifting as his lustful gaze meets yours. Your heart pounds in your chest, his hand coming to caress your arm, urging you to continue. "Right there. By my ear..." He pleads, another breathy moan slipping from his lips, shooting right to your core. His head turns, unable to control himself as his rough tongue kitten licks up your forearm, lips placing a gentle kiss to your wrist. Wetness grows between your thighs, seeing him crumble so easily from just a touch made you want to consume him. Have him shake with you, hot bodies pressing together in a way you have missed far too much since leaving him. 

"I think this cat likes other stuff besides bells," The heaviness in your tone couldn't be ignored, a crack in your composure as you slide your hand from his head, fingers gliding over his before they come to rest back on your lap. Ears drooping from loss of contact, he pouts, eyes drift to the ground. Xavier's warm, soft hands come to rest on your thighs, sad blue eyes looking back up to your own.

"But even if I like it..." He pauses, crossing his arms and resting his chin on them, sulking. "I can't forgive you for abandoning me. Not yet." Oh, how you wanted to scoop him up in your arms, kiss him until he was drunk, watch his face flush a deep pink. Your sweet boy still feeling hurt from your small trip, engraving in your mind that you will never leave him again.

You reach out, cupping his chin with all the love you have in you. His ears twitch once before standing high on his head, his big blue ragdoll eyes widen at the gentle touch. His plush tail swaying lazily behind him, showing how much he loved the attention.

"Then can you tell me what's the best way to comfort my cat?" You ask, voice silky and warm. Thumb sliding up, pushing his top lip so you can see his beloved canine teeth, a shocked gasp leaving his open mouth. Your kitty never being one to show aggression, but you wouldn't have minded a bite or two to ease his satisfaction.

"Not like this," He whispers, head falling as he mopes. Eyes laying back to the ground again as his ears fall, tail drooping behind him on the soft, lush grass, his face moving just out of touch.

You reach out again, fingers scratching under his chin. Nails grazing his skin, his eyes flutter closed at the comforting gesture, something he is all too familiar with. Soft swishing of his tail swaying faster in the grass as he leans into your touch for just a moment.

"Mmm, it's nice..." Xavier hums, almost appraising what you have to offer. "But this isn't what I'm looking for." More confidence leaks out of your usual soft-spoken kitty. He quickly grasps your hand, pulling it off of his chin, pressing your fingers to the base of his throat.

"You're good at dealing with your kitty," He rises from his sunken position, up onto his knees. Your lover's hand slowly guides yours to his clothed chest. "You don't need any hints, right?" Under your touch you could feel his heartbeat as you pass, quick and pounding in his chest. His breath quickening as you stop right between his ribs, clothed flesh brushing against your open hand as he heaves. You know what he wants, you can sense it in every way, from his voice to his touch, to the way his eyes land on you. But he also knows better, to use his words like a good kitty, ask you directly for what he wants - he knows you would always give in. So, since he refuses to speak, you scratch his chest, a low purr vibrating in his throat as your nails rake over him. He pants out, head lulling forward for just a moment before you look up at him. Face blazed in pink blush, blue eyes half lidded and glossy - so fucking needy.

"I guess you know exactly where to pet to get a cat purring, huh?" Xavier stands, using the tree beside both of you to steady himself as his large frame looms over you, He continues to trace your hand down his body, stopping at the waist of his pants, just your fingertips making contact now. You look up at his breathtaking face, his thin eyebrows knitting together in frustration, a famous pout on his kissable lips. He lifts his chin, cocking his head to the side as he waits, expectantly. "Why not try here?" He wastes no time placing your hand on the crotch of his pants, an obvious bulge in your hand as you cup it. 

"Xavier," Your brows knitting together as you try your best to sound stern. His ears falter for just a moment, his big ragdoll eyes widening in worry of being punished. "We talked about you using your words. Tell me." You coo, thumbing over his erection. He takes a moment, shivering under your touch as he lets out a shaky breath. 

"Please..." He begs, fingers tightening around your wrist, urging you to touch him. "Please love me..." His words coming out in an almost a cry, every emotion from the past weekend crashing through him as he pours his heart out to you in those simple three words. And how could you possibly resist, from the way he spoke to the sad look on his perfect face. You let your free hand slip up under his cotton shirt, fingers dusting over his abs as your other hand curled under the waist band of his sweatpants. He helps you tug them down, a painfully large bulge emerging face to face with you as it tents his boxers. Always needy, always for you. 

You take a moment to admire him, something you had been denied all weekend but wanted more than life itself. Eyes trailing from the milky skin of his exposed stomach to the tuft of dark blond hair that trailed under the band of his boxers. If he hadn't needed your touch so urgently, you would've taken the time to run your fingers down it, placing lazy kisses from his navel to his pelvis on the slow mornings you usually shared. But from his hot flesh under your skin you could feel that there was no time, that you two had so much to say that didn't involve words. Curling your fingers under the waistband of his boxers you hear him suck in a breath. No matter how many times the two of you made love, every single gesture from you stole his breath away, just like how one look from him could do the same to you. 

"Please..." His voice almost inaudible now, bottom lip quivering as you look up at him. You don't waste time, pulling down his boxers and setting him free, springing to life in front of your face.

"Oh, my sweet star," You coo, watching him twitch under your gaze, the pink tip leaking. With a whimper, he guided your hand to him, wrapping your fingers around the base of his already pulsing cock, soft bush of groomed hair tickling your flesh. Xavier lets out a gasp, a deep rumble of a purr humming in his chest as his eyes flutter shut from the contact. Here he was, your sweet kitty, right in front of you trembling under your touch. God how you have missed this, you didn't know how only three days would drive you mad without him by your side. But here he was, huffing as you slowly slide your hand from base to tip as his hold on you loosens. 

You swipe your thumb over his sensitive tip, watching the shiver ripple over him, whimpering as his eyes squeeze even more closed. The juices helping you slip your hand back down with ease, slick enough for you to pick up pace and not need to worry about too much friction. The soft schlick every time you passed over his head making your thighs tremble, already so spent for you. It made you wonder how much it took to control himself while you were away, seeing the frustration on his face every time Jeremiah came to the door instead of you. 

Xavier dragged his hand up your arm, fingers dusting your skin as they came to rest on your bicep, feeling your flexing muscle as you work him. The rumbling of his purring a steady hum surrounding you, broken up with small moans floating from his slacked jaw. You take the opportunity to delicately run your nails down the contours of his abs, drawing a lovely hiss from him that swarmed around your brain. His fingers tightening around your bicep for just a moment, a warning, before loosening once more. You see the faint red marks bloom on his pale skin, the way it moves with every heavy breath that graces his lungs. His cock jumping in your hand, telling you that he needed more, that he needed to cum just for you. Leaning in you place a kiss to your markings, lips barely touching before he cries out, hips thrusting into your hand, face bumping into his stomach. 

You hum against him, the vibrations coaxing another whimper from him as his hand clasps on your wrist again, holding it still as he fucks himself into it. The growing slick in your palm only showing how close he was to release, not like the vein throbbing at a steady pace couldn't give him away. Xavier chokes out another cry above you, hips stuttering before they stop completely.

"M-more," Eyes opening as he begs you. You don't have the option to ask what more he needs, his hand lifts from your wrist as he pulls you to your feet, not letting you catch your balance before he crashes his lips onto you. The hunger, want, and longing that has been festering inside of him explodes on your senses as his lips fight against yours, sloppy and out of rhythm. He pushes you a few steps back, against the tree that shaded you from the sun hanging above. The feeling of the rough bark against your back, and his attack on your no doubt swollen lips only made every small sensation heighten. His soft, fuzzy tail swishing, brushing your ankle, the slight breeze kissing your heated skin. His hands running down your body, gripping you by your hips before grinding himself onto you. It all felt so much but yet not enough at the same time. 

"I need you, Xavier," You breathe out as you break the kiss, huffing, your breath fanning over his face. Not wasting any time, he pulls the hem of your dress up and pushes your panties to the side, his lips latching onto anything it can find in a rushed sense of need - finding your neck. He hums against you as his long fingers swipe up your slit, finding how wet warm you were, your body telling him how needy you were for him in return. Eyes widening as you gasp out, hands clutching onto his shoulders as one of his fingers eases its way inside - pumping once, twice, before a second is added.

"Mmm, missed you so much..." The confession tugging at your heart, his delicate voice a harsh contrast compared to what his body was doing to you. A moan bubbling from your throat, the feeling of his fingers curling to your sensitive spot deep inside made you clutch onto him more.

Xavier pulled his fingers from you, leaving you whimpering and clenching around air. The empty feeling inside of you didn't last long, his still leaking cock slipped through your folds and into you, making your brain buzz from how full you felt. Xavier had always been big, filling you to the brim and hitting all of the best spots inside, but something felt different this time. Maybe because how close he had been before pulling you away, or maybe it's the passion that bound you two together, but the feeling of him inside of you, twitching against your walls, only made you want him more. 

"Feel so good, Xavi," You praise, feeling his ear twitch against your cheek like a passing kiss. His long tail curled around your ankle, lifting your leg to tell you silently to move. You oblige, hooking it over his hip, sending his cock that much deeper inside you, making you toss your head back against the rough tree. He purrs, deep and rumbling, feeling it through his back as you hook your arms around his neck in a desperate attempt to be as close to him as possible.

Hips pulling back for just a moment, almost entirely out of you, then he snapped them back. Breathy moans fill your ears as he thrusts again, hot kisses trailing from your throat, up your neck, dancing over your cheek, and crashing back onto yours - spit wetting your skin in its wake. You allow him, swallowing his moans in your mouth, tongue lapping at his own, fingers threading through his feather soft locks. Nothing but love and longing shared between you, every touch pushing each other towards that delicious edge as he continued his fervent thrusts into you, soaking your thighs and his with your love. 

The passion almost became too much for him as his hands gripped you tighter, desperate to confirm you were here with him again, that you were dancing this same old dance you have done hundreds of times before. He needed you, even now he needed more of you until you were the only thing that consumed him, the passion burning on his fingertips as he traced them up your bare thighs, over your panty clad hips, and onto your waist. He pushed you back towards the tree, the bark scratching at your bare ass cheeks but you didn't care, the only thing in the world that mattered held you there. 

"Wanna cum in you," Lips brushing yours as he barely pulled back enough to speak, breath mingling with yours as you both pant for air. Who were you to deny your kitty that? The tight coil wound so much in your stomach you almost released at that, imagining being filled with his seed, and eventually with a swollen stomach from his litter.

"Mmm, want to put your babies in me, Kitty?" You tease, barely, not having enough in you to lighten your tone. His hips snap, cock pushing against that mouthwatering spot inside of you, making you arch your back and moan into his open mouth, eyes fluttering closed. Xavier purrs louder, hair and ears brushing against you as you feel him nodding fast.

"Please," Voice high and whiny as his hips begin to grow sloppy, his movements stuttering for a moment before he continues. "Please let me fill you, darling. Please!" He cries, burying his face into your neck once more, damp forehead against your sweaty shoulder. Your fingers tug softly at his roots, so fucking close to that edge you could see off of it, one small step and you would be flying through the air.

"Fuck..." Moaning, you arch your back off of the tree once more. "Cum in me Xavier, give it to me!" You cry, the last of your self control leaving as you shake around him, sex pulsing on his cock as you release. 

His isn't far behind, you feel him twitch as the first rope coats your walls, a mewl muffled against your skin as his body shudders. Xavier empties himself entirely in you, seed dripping from your cunt as his cock softens inside, making a mess of both your legs and panties. Chests bumping together with every breath as you two attempt to control your rapid, speeding hearts. His hands never leave you, only softening his hold to a gentle caress, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your silky skin.

Xavier is the first to speak, saying your name so quietly you almost didn't hear him over the roar of your heart in your ears.

"Yes, my sweet boy?" Breathy, but calming, you brush your fingers through his hair, not forgetting to give a soft scratch behind his ear, rewarding your good boy.

"Please don't leave me again," You could almost cry at how helpless he sounds, how much this hurt him. With gentle hands, you cup his hot cheeks, pulling his face in front of yours so you can meet the most beautiful eyes you have ever seen. Glossy and wide, so beautiful yet fucked out at the same time. Placing a soft kiss to the tip of his pink nose, you smile, the corners of your lips pulling up.

"I'll never leave you again, my love." You promise, and mean it. Nothing should tear you apart again, he was so much more than your cat boy, he was your lover, your partner for life and you wanted nothing more than to have this man by your side forever. His features soften, the swishing tail behind him brushing at your still raised leg.

"I love you," He breathes, almost relieved at your words. A chuckle bubbling from your chest as you lay your damp forehead against his.

"And I love you, my kitty."

[piastrisun]

unexpected confession.

pairings: lando norris + fem reader.

summary: as the elevator stalls, so does your composure. lando’s sudden, earnest words turn the trapped moment into a delicate dance between panic and possibility.

genre: fluff.⠀word count: 1k.⠀ warning: none.

notes: lando’s birthday!!! a bit short but i hope y’all like it. <3 no use of y/n or any names at all.

you and lando are standing in the elevator, the air uncomfortably still, and the space around you both feels too small. the elevator’s hum seems louder now, echoing in the confined space. the flickering light above does little to calm the rising tension between you two, as your body instinctively shifts to press against the corner.

you’ve never thought much about how close you are to each other—how every small movement feels amplified in this moment. it's as if your very proximity makes the silence heavier. your mind races, trying to distract itself from the fact that you're alone in an elevator, stuck for what feels like forever. it should be mundane, but with lando here, everything suddenly feels too intense.

and then, he breaks the stillness, his voice barely above a whisper but loud enough to shake you out of your thoughts. "i don’t want to die without telling you this."

your heart skips a beat, and a chill runs down your spine. the sudden panic floods you, and you whip your head to face him, your eyes wide, your breath catching in your throat. “what?! what are you talking about? are we—are we dying?”

his face goes pale as he stammers, looking more flustered than you've ever seen him. his hands hover over the elevator buttons as though he can fix the situation with the press of a few keys. “no! no, of course not… well, i mean, i don’t think so. but listen, it’s important.” he avoids your gaze, the nervous energy practically crackling between you.

you let out a shaky, almost panicked laugh, trying to control the rapid beat of your heart. “lando, this is not the time for dramatic confessions! you’re freaking me out!”

he shifts awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes dart around the elevator. you can tell he’s struggling to keep it together, his body stiff with the weight of whatever he's about to say. “i love you. i always have. and i’m sorry for not saying it sooner.”

you freeze, your body going rigid. the words land with such weight that you can’t process them fast enough. your jaw falls open, and your mouth feels dry as you blink a few times, as if trying to clear the fog in your brain. "wait, what? you love me? you’ve… always loved me?" you can’t quite wrap your mind around it, your voice coming out in a whisper, disbelief taking over. your hands tremble, and your heart is pounding so hard you swear he can hear it. "are you—are you serious right now? do you think we’re going to die in this elevator?"

“no! no, i don’t think we’re dying! i mean, not right now.” lando sighs dramatically, dropping his shoulders in exasperation as he leans back against the elevator wall, seemingly giving up on fixing anything. “but… look, i just needed to say it, okay? i didn’t want to leave with it unsaid. so, if we do die, well… at least you know.”

his words hang in the air like a strange confession, one that doesn't quite make sense given the circumstances. but even then, a knot of warmth stirs in your chest, a strange mix of emotions you’re not ready to confront.

you step back, crossing your arms tightly over your chest as if trying to shield yourself from what’s happening. you narrow your eyes at him, your lips curling into a teasing frown. “so, this is your plan? we get stuck in an elevator for five minutes and suddenly you’ve decided to unload your feelings?”

he groans, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. he slumps against the wall, letting out a breath like he's trying to deflate from the awkwardness. “this wasn’t exactly the moment i planned, okay? but i’ve been holding it in for years, and if you do kill me with that glare, at least i’ll go knowing i said it.”

you bite back a smile, your eyes narrowing in mock judgment. you raise an eyebrow as you lean toward him. “glare? i’m just trying to process this. you’ve have fancied me all this time, and you never said anything?”

his shoulders tense, and he rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze as if searching for some way to escape. “i wasn’t sure if you felt the same. i thought maybe you’d think i was, i don’t know, creepy or something.” his voice cracks slightly, a nervous chuckle escaping him. he looks down at his shoes, his embarrassment clear. “but now here we are. stuck in this tiny box together, one awkward cough away from the end of our lives…”

you can’t help but laugh, the sound light and a little shaky as you step forward, your lips curling into a playful smirk. “well, lucky for you, i don’t think you’re creepy. and maybe… just maybe… i’ve had a few feelings too.”

his eyes widen, his mouth slightly agape, disbelief written all over his face. his voice falters for a moment, but it’s full of hope. “wait, what?!”

you laugh softly, the playful edge to your voice not masking the sudden warmth in your chest. "you think i’m just going to throw myself at you after you drop that bomb? i’m not that easy, lando."

his eyes light up, his expression shifting from surprise to sheer delight. he takes a step closer, his grin impossibly wide as he leans in, his voice filled with teasing excitement. “oh, really? because if we do get stuck here a little longer, i can think of a few ways to pass the time…” his gaze flickers down to your lips before meeting your eyes again, mischievous and full of playful challenge.

you roll your eyes dramatically, trying to maintain some semblance of control over your emotions, but the smile you can’t hide betrays you. "you’re unbelievable."

lando shrugs, his grin growing even wider as he leans back, arms crossing in mock defense. his eyes dance with a mix of humor and genuine affection. "i do try."

©⠀piastrisun original work. please don’t translate, claim or repost any of my writing, 24’.

[poetryvampire]

✨️trop men and if they could get you off based mostly on vibes ✨️

💕Now to level the playing field let's give a simple y/n on if they could get the job done during your first time together and the overall mood of the evening. Mildly nsfw (I'm not gonna get too detailed...unless 👀)

Adar💀 Yes. Woof, not to get too crass right off the bat but daddy is the name he earned so yes absolutely. Also brace yourself it will be kinkier than you think and it will awaken something in you. And it would start off painfully slow just easing you into it lightly. Seems like a great opportunity to try things you've been curious about but beware you're getting into like five kinks that haven't even crossed you mind before. One minute you're having a romantic candle lit dinner then Bam youre wearing a chain collar with his name on it.

Elrond 😇 Oh, god bless. No. Baby I'm sorry but no. That being said it would still be a great time with really positive vibes. But Elrond would get too in his own head thinking about options and the best 'plan of attack' to actually deliver. Plus he would play it super safe not wanting to off put you in anyway and thus would kill the passion a bit. Still would be the biggest sweetheart and over all give you a fun time. (Give him time to build his confidence though lotr Elrond Fucks for sure)

Halbrand 🐶 LISTEN Listen listen...No. Hear me out. I just-I feel it in my blood that this guy will rizz you so hard and talk such a big game and than when he time comes it's just ok at best. Like he's made at least one person come before and thinks he has cracked the code. Still his heart's (seemingly) in the right place and its pretty romantic over all. Lots and lots of cuddling.

Annatar 🐱 Yes. And it's amazing but the vibes are terrible. He gets way too intense too fast. He's the kind of guy to say some really weird shit during. Like not even anything dirty just waxing poetic about how you're part of each now and the bond of your bodies is inescapable even in death. And he waaay into talking about how you belong to him now and you're just like?? Is he just talking crazy in the heat of the moment or ?? Also no aftercare and he's 100% gone when you wake up.

Arondir 🏹 Yes. And it's Good but not as romantic as you were hoping. He's into you but Arondir def doesn't realize what a catch he is and is surprised that you're so here for him. Also buddy's got a lot going on so he's still gonna be pretty guarded emotionally. Still he's extremely respectful and such a good kisser like he's got your head spinning and you've barely started.

Elendil 🗡 No. But he tries hard and it's a great time. He's kinda got that big puppy Halbrand thing going on but like genuine. Def more into you than you are him. Elendil will rizz you with care. Pays very close attention to what you like/want. Even if it doesnt happen he's fine with talking about it, even makes a few light jokes at his expense. He's terribly good at putting you at ease. By the end of the night you're more smitten than you first thought.

Celebrimor 💍 Yes. Are you kidding me?We're talking mastery, we're talking attentiveness, we're talking about a very smitten old man that's going to court you with his whole heart. The vibes are impeccable and he's going to make it known that taking care of you is his top priority. Additionally I can't explain why but you know this man's head game is god tier.

Gil Galad 🏵 Yes. Don't even get me started on how this man is gonna rock your world. The high king is a big guy so it's go big or go home when it comes to love and affection. He doesn't allow himself to pursue romance often but when he does he goes hard. In terms of the act itself and the amount of extravagance and detail he'd put into wooing you. Plus cmon you know he's stressed and pent up as hell. Brace yourself for being be absolutely worshipped All night. You're in for a wicked case of jelly legs and you're not going anywhere.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Fluffvember Prompt 10 - Accommodating

@ajscico I’ve been meaning to write some Sky & Time comfort for you for a long while and finally came up with something! Have a random post-Elastic Heart scene :)

x

Sky’s body ached. His world was jostling strangely, a muffled voice in his ear accompanied by a steady heartbeat. Dull light pierced through his eyelids, making his head ache. He groaned a little, tilting his face into fabric to hide from it.

A hand settled over the back of his head, catching him a little off guard. His brain tried to piece together what was happening, and he realized he must be resting against someone.

“He awake?” That sounded like Wild.

“Trying to be, I think.” Oh. Oh. He was resting against Time.

How in the world…? Other voices started registering in his head, and he tried to carve some kind of story out of the mess.

“Told you it would wear him out.”

“Okay, saying something would wear someone out is not the same as them collapsing.”

“Hush, you’ll wake him up!”

“He needs to wake up, when was the last time he ate or drank? Has anybody been keeping track?”

Sky furrowed his brow a little. Had he collapsed? He tried moving, but his body responded sluggishly.

The hand in the back of his head slid down to his back, rubbing it a little. “Sky?”

Blearily, the Skyloftian opened one eye to glance up at his leader. Time looked mostly serene, but there was a mild crease to his brow that denoted worry.

Sky hummed, the sound coming out rough and patchy, too tired to talk, and he buried his face back in the elder’s tunic.

He didn’t know why he’d collapsed. Was he hurt? He didn’t feel hurt. Just worn out.

He remembered the strike in the monster camp. He’d been scouting with Warriors and Wild. They’d taken out the camp together. No one has gotten hurt.

Sky frowned. Was he still so weak after his escapade? It had been three days.

He didn’t want to be useless to them after putting them through all that. Damn it.

Scrunching his nose, he let out a frustrated breath, pushing against Time to sit up. His elder supported him under his shoulders, hands steady.

“It’s okay,” Twilight said gently from beside him, hand on his back. “Take it easy. Wild has some food and water for you to help.”

“Sky.” Time’s voice was gentle but commanding, catching his attention. “Relax. We can help you. I don’t want you pushing yourself too much.”

Sky tried not to feel pathetic or upset. He tried to focus instead on how much his fellow heroes were willing to help. And… how warm and comforting it felt to be held by their leader. Slowly, he shifted, letting himself lean back down against Time’s chest. His leader adjusted him a little so he could receive some water from Wild, but his arm was wrapped firmly around the teenager, holding him close.

Sky pushed the memory of that desert dungeon away, the memory of apologizing over and over again as his breath left him, as Time held him. He imagined that Time was trying to do the same.

He’d caused so much damage.

He knew better than to apologize. Time would chew him out. So instead he just let himself be held, let himself be comforted, and sacrificed what little pride he had so that Time could have that comfort too.

“I’m okay,” he said tiredly after sipping on some water.

Time’s grip tightened, hugging him a bit more. It was the closest he’d get to an admission of worry. The man was fairly private with his feelings.

He heard the captain next as he ruffled his hair. “Of course you are. You just need to rest some more. That ought to make you happy.”

Sky frowned, shooting a grumpy glare at the older hero, and everyone laughed.

“Eat,” Time prompted. “Then go back to sleep.”

Sky sighed. He’d indulge him. He’d indulge all of them. He was used to pushing through far worse, but… there was no reason to.

“We got you, buddy,” Twilight said gently.

The words echoed in his mind as he ate, as Wild took the empty bowl away, as Time leaned back against a pile of blankets, letting Sky use him as a bed. For once, he didn’t berate himself. He just let himself enjoy it. He’d push harder tomorrow.

But for tonight, he’d let his brothers-in-arms take care of him.

[porkcutletbowl44]

A tease.

Keegan P. Russ/reader

NSFW MDNI

tags: mention of Exhibitionism, masturbation, blowjob/handjob, nudity, cum eating, horrendously down bad content

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

You're taking forever.

It's like you're doing it on purpose; he had only just gotten back from a long, harsh deployment last night. And now that he has the energy, you've only given him one quick round. It's not how it goes; he's gone months without you and it ended too fast, too early, and you just didn't listen.

His hunger has only grown.

He lets out a deep breath, his mind warring between his growing need and the practicality of the situation.

He needs to get up, to get some air, to do something that isn't just sitting here and being horny, but he's so damn tired and comfortable that he doesn't want to move.

His mind is too full of lewd thoughts about what he wants to do to you.

Damn it, baby... why do you do this to me...?

He lets out a soft laugh, a little huff of amused disbelief, his eyes still focused on the ceiling.

He's starting to suspect that you're really doing it on purpose, that you know what you're doing to him. His mind is racing with thoughts of you, his body responding instantly.

Would you want to just play with it instead? Hold it? Maybe give it come clothes kisses? He gently rubs the head, keeping up some stimulation at the thought.

He lets out a soft moan at the thought of you nuzzling against his clothed cock, his hand squeezing himself just a little.

He's so worked up, his mind still racing with thoughts of you, even though you aren't even in the room. It's like he's addicted, his body yearning for your touch, your scent, your everything.

His mind is swimming with all the different things it would like you to do, to do to him. The things you could do to each other.

He's still too hard, his chest heaving ever so slightly, his breaths coming a little more ragged. He can picture you now, you on your knees in front of him, your hot mouth open for him to slap the underside of his cock head on your tongue.

He's starting to get a little carried away, his thoughts straying from anything practical, but he doesn't really care.

His cock twitches in his hand, getting some attention and a gentle caress, rubbing the head between his thumb and forefinger.

He can't help but give himself a few more slow, deliberate pumps, his hand wrapped loosely around the shaft as he tries to keep himself hard.

He's got an image of you walking in and catching him like this, touching himself while thinking of you…

And he's liking it.

He sneaks his hand under the waist band, gripping with a loose hand.

He lets out a long, quiet groan.

His hand is working a steady rhythm, his mind lost in thoughts of you. The thought of your reaction, if you were to catch him like this; how you'd look, what you'd say, what you'd do.

He gives his cock a little squeeze, trying to keep himself riding the edge of pleasure, trying not to go over.

The door isn't quite closed all the way, so if you were to get close to the room, you'd hear the gentle noises.

"God, you're in trouble when you get back..." he mutters to himself, his hand pumping lightly along his cock.

His breath hitches for a moment as the image of your lips around him flashes through his mind, the way you take him deep and good. His hand starts to pick up the pace a little, getting a little impatient. God, the feel of your hot, wet, tight throat and how it hugs him so nicely, how your hands would rub on his thighs and planes of his firm stomach.

He's still so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't hear you until you speak.

"I was only gone for a few minutes,"

He lets out a hiss of surprise, freezing instantly, his body going tense as soon as he hears your voice. He's immediately embarrassed, his mind going from filthy thoughts to mortified in the span of a second.

He's suddenly acutely aware of the position he's in, his hand in his boxers, his breathing rough and uneven. His eyes widen at being caught, and he turns his head, sheepishly meeting your gaze. his He's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't hear anything, his hand instinctively flying away from his cock at the surprise audience.

He lets out a dry scoff, his face feeling a little warm at being caught. "Jesus, I didn't even hear you come back…" he says, a little sheepish.

He eyes you for a moment, his eyes quickly scanning your form, your hair, only wearing your panties. Dainty little things, barely covers up anything.

You toss him a bottle, his hand catching it easily with a quiet thanks. He's still a little on edge from being caught, but he manages to catch the bottle on reflex, He's got a small frown on his face, his mind still a little dazed.

He's still trying to process being caught like this, a little embarrassed and a little flustered. He lifts the bottle, twisting off the top and taking a large sip.

He wets his lips a little bit, his throat feeling dry despite having a fresh beverage as he looks at you. He can't find the words to say, his mind still spinning from being caught.

"Couldn't wait?" You tease.

He lets out a huff of embarrassed laughter, his eyes widening at your words. He's caught, and there's no denying it, so he doesn't even try. He can feel the flush of heat spreading over his face, probably turning his cheeks red.

He gives a sheepish shrug, his eyes still fixated on you, drinking in the sight of you perched next to him, wearing only those little panties.

His hand comes up to rub the back of his neck, his eyes darting away from you, trying to regain his composure.

He lets out a quick, nervous laugh, trying to come up with something.

"Just lonely,"

He's trying to act casual, but his voice comes out a lot breathier than he intended. He looks back up at you again, eyes taking mental pictures of the sight, the love of his life.

He means it, it's the damn truth; he is lonely. It's a feeling that he's used to, it's something he's known since childhood, but it's one that he's getting tired of.

He's tired of being alone, of being by himself, of having no one to hold him or share his life with. He's tired of being the one who's always alone, of never having someone who can make him feel less lonely.

He's lonely, and he doesn't like it.

(And yes, 3 minutes is too long without you.)

"Want help?" You offer, rubbing his thigh tenderly.

"Depends on what kinda help you're offering," he replies huskily.

He lets his hand rest on top of yours, feeling the warmth of your skin, the gentle movement of your hand. He lets out a soft hum of pleasure, his eyes flickering shut for a moment, his head rolling back against the pillow as you cup him.

"Quit playing dumb," you grin.

His eyes are closed as he responds, "Me playing dumb? Never."

He bites back a moan, his hips twitching involuntarily, pushing into your touch. His face feels a little warm from being caught, and the fact that you're playing with him isn't helping.

"What do you want?" You coo, sitting on your legs beside him.

His tongue swipes lazily across his lips, his hand coming to rest on your hip, his fingers drumming against the roundness.

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a small smirk on his lips. "What do you think I want, angel?" he rasps.

His other hand comes up to brush gently against your leg, tracing the length of your soft flesh.

He lets out a sigh, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your hip. "I want you," he says, a low, gravelly drawl. "Just you. Always you."

His fingers give a soft, gentle squeeze to your hip, his hand slipping beneath the thin material of your panties, tempted to snap the material on your ass cheek.

You reach the elastic waistband of his boxers, pulling just the tip out to play with your finger tips. He can't help but let out a needy little moan as you pull the elastic, his eyes growing darker, his throat working as he swallows hard. His body is taut with need, his muscles tensed, ready to snap at the slightest provocation.

His hand tightens on your hip, his fingers digging into your skin as he watches your fingers rub over his weeping slit.

"That's cruel," he mumbles.

A fat drop of pre bubbles out, your thumb swiping it up and brought to your lips. His eyes track the movement intently, his breathing growing heavy and uneven. His chest heaves and his fingers flex against your skin, his eyes flicking up to meet yours briefly, his pupils blown black with need.

He gives a guttural moan, his voice coming out a little more shaky and breathless than usual.

"You can't… you can't just do that…" he almost whines.

His hips jerk involuntarily at the sight, his fingers digging into your skin as he watches you lick up his fluids. He can't take his eyes off you, his eyes glued to your mouth as he watches the bead of precum disappear past your lips.

He's desperatly trying to anchor himself against the onslaught of sensation.

He can't think straight, his mind is a jumbled mess of raw desire and primal need. His breathing is becoming labored, his chest heaving as he watches you, his eye dark and intense.

"Holy fuck..." He lets out a ragged breath.

You really were the best girl he could ask for, so shy and polite in public, sweet and soft to him when he comes home... but in private you were his. Warm meals and his balls empty. Perfection.

He loved you all the more for it.

You stroke him a few times, letting him out tall and aching.

"I thought you could go for another round?" You ask in a way that seems innocent, it is anything but.

"Oh, angel... You have no idea how badly I'm going to wreck you this time."

Yet, he makes no move to do so.

He lets out a low, throaty chuckle, his fingers giving your hip another promising squeeze.

His hand starts to slide up along your body, the rough callouses of his fingers scratching over your skin as they move higher. He palms the side of your breast, feeling the give in the squish and the pebbled nipples poking his wrist.

He's already half-gone and you've barely even touched him, but the way you're looking at him, the way you touch him, the way you talk to him, it's almost more than he can take.

He gently pulls you close, slowly manoeuvring you onto his lap. He never takes his eyes off you, his hands gently guiding your hips, taking in the sight of you perched on top of him, straddling his hips, bare and beautiful.

"Gonna make me come like this?" he husks gruffly.

"I can," you offer with a soft purr, squeezing with a stroke upwards.

His eyes flutter shut and a quiet, needy sound escapes his lips. He's so sensitive, so ready and desperate, his hips flexing up in your hand.

All he can do is nod quickly, his head bobbing jerkily as he desperately tries to speak, to let you know what he needs.

Your lips pucker slowly, a fat drop of spit landing with a smack on his cock. The sound that escapes his throat is guttural, a mix of a moan and a breathless gasp. It's loud and rough and needy, a sound he would've been embarrassed to make in any other situation.

But right now, he can't find it in himself to care. Not with you straddling him.

He's torn between wanting to watch and wanting to close his eyes to savor the sensation of your hand moving up and down with your slippery spit, his breath coming in rough, uneven gasps.

He can't help but let out a long, shuddering moan, his body quivering beneath your touch.

"Fuck, you keep doing that and I'm gonna be finished before we even start…" He gasps out, his hand reaching down to lightly grasp your wrist, trying to stop your hand from moving.

"So you can't go another round?" You tease.

"Of course I can, angel."

He (attempts to) rolls his eyes at your question, his expression somewhere between amused and desperately horny. Your squeeze makes him twitch, a sharp breath sucked through his teeth. You're really testing him.

"Oh, I'll go another round," he grits out, his eyes opening to lock onto yours, his eyes dark and intense. "But I need you to slow down before I blow my load right before it even gets good."

He can last more than a few minutes, it's just the softness of your hand that has his resistance washing away with every movement. He'd love nothing more than for you to get him off, but he also doesn’t want to end up looking like some kind of chump who can't even last more than a few minutes when he certainly can.

His hand gently encircles your wrist, stopping your hand as it shallowly pumps over his cock and letting it slap down on his stomach. He lets out a ragged breath, his eyes locking onto yours.

He's in a state of intense, desperate need, his body on the razor-edge of surrender, but he's still fighting against it, fighting to stay in control.

"You always make me lose my damn mind, angel," he mutters hoarsely.

"You're giving me mixed signals here," you rolled your eyes, instead moving your hand down to cup his balls through his boxers.

He's not entirely sure how you managed to pull something like this off so quickly, but right now he's not really surprised. With you, it's usually a 50/50 chance of what you're gonna do next. And he loves it.

"Not mixed signals," he grits out, his jaw clenched tightly. "You gotta give a guy a break here. You're gonna have me coming before we even start."

"Then, what-do-you-want." You pat his knee with every word, raising your brows expectantly.

How is he even supposed to think about that? With you, your tits out in the open, wearing not a stitch of clothing except for those slutty panties, and having his dick wet with your spit?

He lets out a sharp, breathless laugh, his head rolling back against the pillow.

"You have any idea how many thoughts are going through my head right now? How the hell am I supposed to pick just one?" he asks in a low, strained voice.

His head rolls bonelessly against the pillow. It's a damn good question. What does he want right now?

"Then I'll pick for you!" You grin, scooting next to him with your hand on his shaft.

"Oh hell," he groans, his eyes rolling back in his head.

He shivers under your touch, his body so sensitive and on edge. He's barely clinging to any shred of control he has left, his hips rocking against your hand, trying to increase the friction.

"You gonna go easy on me, baby? Or are you just gonna tease me until I lose it…" He complains.

He doesn't need to think about what he wants anymore, it's the same thing he's wanted from the moment he walked in the door.

"You," he says quickly to answer your question, to save himself, "I want you. All of you. On top of me."

"Too late, I wanna watch," you shrug, kissing the hinge of his jaw.

He's already at the end of his rope, his body thrumming with need, his patience at an all-time low. And now you're telling him you want to watch. The idea of you watching him, of him being the center of your attention, it's his extra lucky evening.

You're going to drive him insane this way, and you know it.

He lets out a ragged breath, his head rolling back in resignation, his eyes fixated on the ceiling above him.

"You're playing dirty," he grumbles, his muscles already starting to tense.

"Relax," you murmur, your finger tips are feather light on the underside of his shaft, wrapping around the tip in a slow downstroke.

His breath hisses through his teeth, his body trembling at your touch.

Your fingers are barely touching him, but it's still driving him wild. He's so sensitive, almost too sensitive, every little movement making him shudder with sensation.

"Hard to relax when you're doing that, angel," he mutters, his eyes half-lidded and his jaw clenched.

You shut him up, pressing kisses to his lips. He responds eagerly to each one, his hand coming up to bury itself in your hair, his other finding your breast to knead and push in his hand.

He kisses you hungrily, fiercely, his tongue sliding past your lips and tangling with yours. He lets out a low moan, cock flaring in your hand as you work him.

It's the perfect distraction, kissing you and touching you, his mind occupied with you instead of the intense sensation of your hand around his dick. He breaks the kiss with a ragged breath, his head rolling back to expose his throat, his eyes half-lidded as he stares at you.

The way you're driving him to the edge and holding him there, it's overwhelming. He's fighting against it, fighting to hold on, to make it last just a little bit longer.

"If you don't stop, it's gonna be all over you…" he warns.

You hum, squeezing and twisting your wrist. His hips jerk at the movement, a guttural moan escaping his lips.

Your touch is exquisite, it's almost torturous. He's on the edge, teetering on the brink, and he's never needed something so desperately, you're going to wring him dry and enjoy it.

He can't take it anymore, he has to do something, anything to distract himself.

With a guttural grunt, he shifts his hand, wedging it between your legs to sloppily try and stimulate your clit.

"C'mon, Keegan. Just a little more and I'll put it in my mouth?"

His eye goes wide at your words, his body shuddering, eyes closing again when your thumb brushes the underside of his sensitive head. His hips jerk forward helplessly, his mind going blank for a moment to paint that picture; bent over his lap, your mouth wrapped around his pulsing cock as his spunk spits out in your throat—

"Shhhit," he hisses, heels sliding on the sheets to gain leverage up in your hand. He hums, long and deep like he's in concentration (to not come), "Fuck, fuck, fuck—"

"Can I?" You coo, peppering the sweetest kisses on his cheek bone.

"You don't— You don't even have to ask," he strains, his hand burying itself in your hair and fisting it tight.

You're playing with fire, and you know it.

He's on the edge, and all it's going to take is one little push, one little stroke, one little thought, and that fire is going to burn straight through him, leaving him boneless and satisfied.

And while it seems like you might be willing to wait, he isn't. He needs that release, badly. You've been toying for too long for him to protest that he refuses to get off without you, but you don't seem to care about that right now. His legs flex hard, hips canting shallowly, breathing getting choppy, oh, he's right there—

You shift away; letting him see how you take him in your mouth in just the nick of time. He can feel it the moment your mouth envelops him, hands coming up instinctively to your hair and neck. His head falls back, his eyes closing as he lets out a raw, guttural moan of relief. His hips shallowly thrust, milking every last drop out to your eager mouth. He's boneless, his muscles trembling with fatigue.

He's never felt so satisfied, so completely spent in his life. He can't even find the words to speak, he just slowly opens his eyes to look down at you, his gaze half-lidded and heavy with pleasure.

His hand weakly comes to wrap around your waist, pulling you back up and away from driving him into over sensitivity. He holds you there for a moment, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath, his heart slowly starting to settle down.

After a few minutes, he lets out a tired laugh, rolling onto his side to face you. He's almost smothering you, a weighty arm strapping you to the mattress, to him.

"Fuck me, woman."

"Maybe in a few hours, when you can actually do another round,"

He lets out a mock offended huff at your comment, his hand coming to swat your thigh.

He's still riding in the floaty, boneless state of afterglow, his arms and legs feeling like air. He's exhausted, and you know it. Not that he minds, he'd take this tiredness over being restless any day, and you're certainly to blame. He's completely spent, and there's no way he's going to be able to muster up any kind of resistance anytime soon. He may be a fighter, but you're his Kryptonite.

"You've killed me," he complains, burying his face into your neck making the deep timbre of his voice shake your insides. "I don't think I'm capable of thinking about anything like that right now, woman. The most I can do for now is just lay here,” he mumbles into your skin.

"Okay, how about a nap, some food, and then press resume later on?" You offer, fingers between his shoulder blades in a nice soothing brush.

"Food sounds good. A nap sounds even better," he mutters, his words becoming more and more slurred as the exhaustion really starts to kick in.

He sighs deeply, his breath hot against your skin. That deep, satisfied sigh is of a man who has just had the life sucked out of him.

God, the way you scratch his back how you do, he's convinced you know exactly what you're doing to him. He loves the back scratches, and the head scratches during cuddle sessions, but your tits are in his face and he's still thinking about having your legs folded up to your chest. He's trying to protest, but it just comes out a low, drawn out groan.

"If you keep doing that I'm going to be asking for round two a lot sooner," he grumbles with exhaustion.

[rafesbabyg1rl]

The Watcher ~ Part Two

Part One

Summary: Rafe Cameron x Reader, Stalker!Rafe x Pogue!Reader Your parents work late on Friday nights, which you spend alone. Except you haven't been alone in a long time, not that you know of at least. Rafe has watched for years, he's very good at it. His idea of staying an anonymous stalker is ruined when you catch him in your bedroom one Friday night. Rafe has to figure out how to fix his mistake before he loses the only thing that makes his life worth living. After you find the surprise he had left for you, you choose to believe that his threats were empty and try to turn him in. But, your plans are interrupted and you take an unexpected visit to Tannyhill.

Warnings: Rafe stalks reader...that's literally the plot. Strong & descriptive language, suggestive themes, death threat(?), manipulation, kidnapping (?). If I missed anything from this part that I should include in the warnings, please let me know!

Word Count: 3.5k

Author Note: Part Two is here!! I know this chapter is shorter than the previous, but I figured it's better to get what I had out. Also...I'm not sure if I like where this is going, so please share your thoughts about this part and ideas for future parts. Thank you all for the support on the first part of this story. Especially with this being my first work I've published on tumblr, I am very pleasantly surprised with how everyone has reacted to it. So, please enjoy and feel free to leave feedback! I love you all, thank you so much!!

CREDITS: The foundation of this fic was heavily inspired by/ based off of one of @faiszt 's bots on character ai. So, if you like this and you like character ai, I greatly suggest that you check out the bot!

The blinding morning light shines into your room through your curtains. You sit up and rub your eyes. You glance at the digital clock on your nightstand which currently reads: 10:34 am. Those sleeping pills really worked, you think. Your parents are already at the restaurant, probably just getting over with the morning rush. 

Your eyes begin to focus, your brows furrow as your eyes land on one of the posts of your footboard. You lean forward to grab the pair of panties you had just worn yesterday which are hanging from your bedpost. You’re pretty sure you had put these in your hamper last night and wait, why are they sticky…? You wonder, you examine them and come to the realization of what it is. Immediately you toss them away, that was not from you. It was your stalker, it had to be. Of course, the first night you spend alone since four weeks ago and he already breaks in. And he does this? You think about his words, “tell anyone and I’ll come back and fuckin’ kill you”, shivers roll down your spine. 

You hadn’t even had time to realize how horny you had been when you had woken up; and now that you have you feel so wrong. But your dream…oh god your dream. You can still remember it vividly, even more so the longer you think about it; you can see the face of the man who fucked you stupid in your dream. You know who it was, who your subconscious mind let you fuck while you slept. It was your stalker. 

Without another thought, you’re in the shower scrubbing the shame and disgust from your skin—or at least attempting to. When you feel somewhat satisfied, which also happens to be when the water begins to run cold, you finally get out. Wrapping a plush towel around your freshly clean body, you lean over the bathroom sink and wipe the condensation from the mirror leaving just enough space to see yourself. Before the glass fogs back up you’re able to see a small part of what appears to be a bruise poking out from underneath the towel wrapped around your chest. You lean in closer using one hand to re-wipe the mirror and using the other to pull your towel down past your boobs. Looking back at the bruised area on your chest, you can see that the closer you look at it, the more it looks like a hickey. You just about stumble backwards at the realization. 

You’ve had enough. After you quickly toss on some clothes, you grab your keys off your dresser with a shaky hand. You rush out towards your car and get inside, pulling out of your driveway carelessly and speeding off. When you arrive at your destination, you take a few moments to rethink this plan. You have to do this. You can’t keep living with some creep sneaking in your bedroom and touching you as you sleep. You twist the keys in the ignition and pull them out, you confidently strut towards the entrance of the building. When you feel the vibration of your phone in your pocket you pause, sighing as you reach back to take it out. When you read the random number, with the same Outer Banks area code as you, your brows furrow. Typically you wouldn’t answer a call from an unknown number, but something in you is telling you to answer. As you press the green button and bring your phone to your ear, you glance up at the building you were about to enter which reads, ‘Kildare County Sheriff’s Office’. 

“Hello?” You ask warily.

After a few long seconds, the person on the other side of the line answers you. “Stop.” The man’s voice sends familiar chills down your spine. 

“Excuse me?” You respond, your voice audibly shaky. “Who…who is this?”

“C’mon pup, you already forgot what I sound like? It’s already been that long?” Your eyes widen at the realization of who this voice belongs to. You’ve heard it one other time, well one time that you remember.

As your head darts around the parking lot looking for your stalker, your voice comes out in a tone that easily betrays you, revealing your fear, “No…no…what the hell do you want?”

Rafe smirks from his truck as he watches you from afar. “I want you to turn around and get back in your car, m’kay princess? And I highly suggest you do what I want.” 

“Or what? What’s stopping me from walking in? Or from yelling for help?” You take a step closer to the building’s entrance.

“Stubborn, stubborn girl…” the man chuckles, “If you don’t get back into your fucking car right now, you’re gonna really fuckin’ wish you had just listened to me. I’m gonna get what I want no matter what, baby. You’re mine.” And with that, Rafe hangs up the phone, still watching you from a distance. 

As much as you want to just run into the building and beg for help, you know that unfortunately since you’re a pogue, the cops aren’t going to believe a single word that comes from your mouth. In their minds, all pogues are liars and thieves. And since you don’t have the slightest clue on who the man you saw in your bedroom is, you figure there’s not much they’d be able to do even if they did believe you. So you reluctantly turn back to your car and get inside. The moment your door shuts you inside, your phone buzzes yet again with another call. It’s coming from the same number, but this time you don’t answer. This was your second mistake. 

Rafe’s already pissed off. You went against his rules, you didn’t listen to him, none of this will work if you don’t listen. He thought he had been threatening enough that you’d behave, but clearly you need another scare. You need to be taught that disobeying him does nothing but hurt you more. When you don’t answer the phone when you definitely know it’s him calling, this is just the cherry on top; the icing on the cake. Rafe is fuming. 

You drive out of the parking lot, breath heavy as you stay on high alert–searching for him. A truck suddenly pulls behind you, tailing right on your ass. You can’t see through the truck's front windshield due to the dark tint. You being paranoid, step on the gas and speed up a bit, well exceeding the speed limit. A few quick seconds pass by and you jump at the sound of sirens. It doesn’t take long for you to check your rearview mirror and realize that the sirens are coming from the truck behind you, which is flashing its red and blue lights. You let out a breath of relief. You’re being pulled over yet you’re relieved because it means you aren’t being trailed by your stalker. The feeling is short lived as you flick your signal on and pull off to the side of the road. You roll your window down and shut off the engine.

The officer approaches you and goes through the typical routine and you try to calm your nerves. All sound is drowned out as you get lost in your thoughts. 

“Ma’am?”, the officer repeats. “Do you know why I’ve pulled you over today?”

The sharp and unintentionally threatening voice of the deputy snaps you out of wherever the hell it was that your mind had taken you to. “Yes, sorry sir, I…I was going over the speed limit.” You submit, wanting to get this over with. You can’t help but worry what your stalker would think if he saw this, he’d probably think you’re turning him in. But, you’re not. Really this whole thing was a misunderstanding, but you can’t explain that to the cop. 

“And why is that?” He questions you ever further, his gaze staring at you intensely. You get nervous and want to look away, but you worry that might make you look guilty of something. You’ve been pulled over before, it’s not usually a big deal for you. However you’re just so goddamn nervous and need this moment to be over. You feel like you’ve done something wrong; like you’re hiding something. But you aren’t.

“I–I thought…I just got distracted sir, wasn't thinking about speed. I apologize for the inconvenience.” You catch yourself, technically you aren’t lying; you just aren’t explaining why you were distracted. The threatening words of your stalker still echo around your head. The deputy gives a small lecture as he writes up a ticket for you. Once he gets back into his truck and drives off, you rest your head back against the seat and let out the breath you’ve been holding. When you start your car back up and finally open your eyes, you look straight out across the road. You can see a tall man leaning against a truck parked across the road, staring right at you. The familiar grin on his face has you sick to your stomach. 

After making direct eye contact with him, you pull off the side of the road and do an illegal U-turn so that you’re heading in the opposite direction, leaving the man behind. You know that he’s following you, so you drive around aimlessly until you get another call from the same unknown number. You want to decline, but you’re too afraid to face the consequences that might follow. 

“What do you want?” You ask, voice full of faux confidence. The only thing you hear on the other side of the line is a heavy breath that causes your skin to become full of goosebumps. 

After you’ve had a few moments to panic, he finally speaks, “Keep driving”. His words are not said lightly. This is undoubtedly a command, not an option. 

“Keep driving to where?” You stammer with nervousness. 

“Tannyhill.” He replies strictly. 

“Tannyhill?” You question before being able to stop yourself. You can’t help the attitude that slips into your voice. When a few more moments of silence pass, you get more and more anxious for his response. “Hello…?” You ask quietly, wondering if you lost connection. Still nothing. “Hello?” You ask again with more volume. After another minute or two, you hear the phone beep; the call disconnects. 

Why the hell does he want you to go to Tannyhill? It doesn’t make any sense. But you don’t exactly have a choice. He’s following you either way and it’s not like he doesn’t know where you live…and just about everything about your life. So, it’s probably best to just play along and obey his commands. 

When you get close to the general destination, your phone rings with yet another call. You answer, already knowing who it's from. This time you don’t speak first, you wait to hear what he has to say. It takes a few moments, almost like he’s trying to wait long enough that you’ll talk. The silence starts to get unbearably awkward, but your mind is set on waiting for him to speak and Rafe doesn’t have the time to wait; having to give you directions and all. When he finally talks he doesn’t greet you. His voice breaking the silence startles you as he instructs you with the directions to get wherever it was he was forcing you to go. 

“Wait…turn left h-here?” You ask, confused at his directions. You had missed the beginning of what he said since you had to collect yourself after being frightened. 

He sighs in impatience, “No dammit, the next one. Were you not listening?” 

“I…no I-I was listening–” you stumble over your words as you turn onto the street he wanted you to. 

“Bullshit. You need to learn how to fucking listen to me, don’t you?” When you don’t respond, trying to focus on remembering the directions he gave you, it only serves to piss him off even further. “Huh?! Don’t you?!” He shouts into the phone as he follows behind you.

You whine in fear, “No..I can listen. I promise I can listen to you.” You practically beg. “J-just tell me where to go?”

Rafe directs you to his house, which you of course recognize as the Cameron’s mansion. You’ve heard about the Cameron’s, but you wouldn’t be able to point them out in a crowd or anything. Besides from the father, Ward Cameron, whom you’ve seen on the news several times. Is he a Cameron? As you park in the large driveway, you rack your brain trying to recall the name of the Cameron son. 

His truck parks behind you, blocking your car in. He quickly kills the engine and exits his vehicle. You don’t notice him walking up to you until he’s yanking your car door open and pulling you out by the arm.

“R-rafe?” You mumble insecurely. He pauses to look at you, chuckling at your words. He mutters a quick ‘smart girl’ before retightening his grip on your arm and continuing to pull you into the large mansion. You start to cry, getting overwhelmed as you imagine the many possible scenarios that may occur. “P-please,” you manage to choke out. “What do you want?”

Unlike the last time you cried to him, this time he doesn’t stop. He drags you up one level of the large, spiral staircase; pulling you into his bedroom. As soon as you see the bed, you’re already feeling it beneath your back when he shoves you down just a few seconds later. As if you hadn’t already embarrassed yourself enough, you can’t help the tears that begin to stream down your flushed cheeks at a flooding rate. 

“Wait…no, please, please!” The way you keep shouting and choking back sobs causes you to gag from how worked up you’ve gotten yourself. All the Cameron son does in response is lean back to get a full view of you as a smug grin spreads across his face. “Please, I—oh god, I’m gonna be sick…” You mumble, which is quickly followed by another gag that interrupts your constant sobs. 

Rafe snakes his hand up from your arm to your hair, wrapping his first tightly around a large section of it. He tugs on your hair to force your head to look up at him, causing a small whine to escape your lips. “Shhh…baby, shhh…” He mumbles, his ‘worried’ tone working to oppose his previous amused expression. “Calm down, alright? Calm down. Ain’t gonna do nothin’ you don’t want, m’kay pretty girl?” The way he says that last part…you’ve never heard his voice sound like that before. You didn’t even think he was capable of talking in that tone. He sounds like he might actually truly care about you. You’re relieved; maybe even a bit…comforted by the fact that he might be telling the truth about not doing anything you don’t want. Well, besides having you basically held captive in his home. 

“What…what are you gonna do?” You manage to choke out between sobs, trying to catch your breath so you can calm down.

“I just wanna talk to you baby. Alright?” Rafe mumbles your name into your ear, allowing you to feel his hot breath against the side of your face. Immediately you’re taken back to the first time you had met him, in your bedroom a few weeks back. You try to push that aside and bring yourself back to the present; the memory only brings back the feelings of complete and utter fear you experienced at that time. Not that the present was any better, hell, it was worse. 

Hesitantly, you nod. He waits a few minutes to speak; waiting for you to catch your breath. Once you’re calmer, at least on the outside, he finally starts to talk. “I wanted to talk about my proposition…” He looks down at you, bringing his hand up to cautiously run through your hair. “Last time I got cut short…remember that?”

You nod. “I…I tried to warn you my parents would come home. I-I swear I didn’t tell them anything.” You say frantically, trying to prove your innocence.

“Hey, shh…it’s okay babe. I know. I know.” Rafe speaks slowly, his eyes never leaving your lips. He pauses to momentarily dart his tongue out to wet his parted lips. “I know. You haven’t told…you’ve been a good girl and listened to me, hm? Haven’t you baby? Haven't you been a good girl?” 

You nod frantically. “I…I’d never turn you in…” The false seductiveness in your voice turns him off, if that’s even possible. 

He pulls back from you and sighs, “Shut up.” He runs a rough hand over his buzzed head and begins to quickly pace across his bedroom. 

“B-but you wanted to talk…” You remind him. The way his attitude was constantly shifting in great amounts had you furrowing your brows as you tried to figure him out. 

“Yeah, I do. But not to a goddamn filthy, lying whore.” He retorts, a large grin appearing on his face while he watches your beautiful features move on your face, displaying your thoughts  as you take in his words. “Just be yourself alright? I can always tell when you’re not you.” He says almost sincerely. “I want…I need you to want this. Don’t try to pull that fake crap on me ever again, yeah?” 

Immediately you nod. “I…yes-”, you stammer, instantly regretting even trying to talk in the first place. Rafe chuckles, making your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He stops pacing and lets out a long sigh, turning to face you again. His steps pause when he’s standing just before you. 

He leans down to whisper in your ear. “I really need this to work, okay…? This is good, this can be good for the both of us. I can help you; we can help each other, baby.” A silent tear rolls down your cheek from the fear of what’s to come. “I know…I know I messed up, alright? I know. But, you don’t have to be scared, baby. It’s all gonna be okay.” He brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Please…I just wanna go home, let me go home!” Your cries are ugly, and very, very real. The fear in your voice only worries him. Worries him that you may never get past this. But you have to. You don’t have another option. And he really, really doesn’t want to have to hurt you. That was never his intention. 

“But you are home, baby. You are home.” He mutters as his fingers brush over your cheeks, smearing your tears. Your breath hitches at his words and your eyes slowly move up to meet his. This cannot be happening. Why is this happening? You think.

“No…please I…just let me go home. I won’t tell. I promise I won’t. I’ll…I’ll never tell anyone about any of this okay, I’ll never say anything about you.”

“I can’t do that, baby…you know I can’t do that.”

“Why not? I swear, I’ll never ever breathe a word of this to anyone.” You say enticingly.

Rafe sits down besides you, causing the mattress to dip and make you lean towards him. He puts an arm around you and his hand lands on the back of your head, pulling it into his chest.

He leans down to speak into your ear while his hand pets over your hair as you cry into his chest. “Because I need you baby, I need you. And I need you to let me take care of you, yeah? I know…I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. Just trust me okay…we’re gonna be so good together baby.” He tugs at your hair, gently guiding your face to look up at him. “Just listen to me and nothing will happen, I don’t wanna have to…do anything. I just need to know that you’ll listen to what I say.” Immediately you nod, going along with what he says. He tugs on your hair harder, eliciting a gasp to fall from your lips. “Ah ah, I know you can talk. You’re a big girl, now fucking act like it.” He says forcefully.

“I-I’m gonna listen, I’ll listen to you, just please, please don’t hurt me.”

He smiles softly as his eyes dart across your face, unable to pick a feature to focus on, everything about you is just too damn perfect. “Don’t worry I won’t hurt you, not as long as you listen.” His grip loosens on your hair again. “But you’ll be begging for it soon enough.” Rafe’s whispers are enough to make your sobs start again; in which he pulls your head back into his chest. Your tears soak into his shirt as you have no choice but to cry into him.

To be continued...

Thank you for reading! I hope this was enjoyable. This part took quite a bit for me to finish, since life has been a bit busy and I haven't had much time to plan or write. I apologize for the short chapter, I'll try my best to make up for it with the next part! I never really feel done with anything and as I said before I'm not sure if I'm a fan of this part or not. So, if you have literally ANY feedback, questions, or suggestions, PLEASE feel free to let me know! I don't really have any solid plans for this fic so if you have any ideas I just might include them in future parts. And there's not much I won't write!

[astr-venus]

｡⁠☆Early｡⁠.ﾟ⁠+⁠ 

｡⁠☆Cw: suggestive, she/her, black reader, swearing

Katsuki came home from work early today. Not that you were aware. You, who's still in the middle of cooking dinner while blasting some song that Katsuki can't understand. It's melodic, smooth, and so so sensual. Katsuki may not be able to understand the English song lyrics, but just from the sound he can get the gist.

You don't have the best singing voice in your own opinion, but Katsuki is entranced just from the sound of it carrying through your shared home. He feels like he's floating as slowly follows the melody through the house, not bothering to take off anything except his shoes. He completely skips past the bedroom as well, uncomfortable clothes be damned, all he can think about is seeing you.

It's like a weight lifted when you enter his sight, and simultaneously a brick is placed in his chest. He just barely peaks around the corner, not wanting to interrupt your gentle singing, nor your sybaritic dancing.

It's not like he's never seen you dance before, and by no means are you genuinely shy — plus with enough liquor in your system anything is possible — but it's different seeing you in your element. He can't control how thickly he swallows, or the heat rushing in his chest and his cheeks. He fears he resembles some sort of stupid looking tomato, and god it's so embarrassing how worked up he still gets just from looking at you. He feels like an idiotic high schooler who can't keep it in his pants. Fuck, he feels so full of disgustingly mushy emotions he doesn't know what to do with it all. Katsuki swears he'll kill you if you don't get to him first.

He swallows again watching you rub your hands up your body as you whine your hips in the air. The stove lighting feels more like a spotlight as he stares, your brown skin seeming to glisten in the yellow-orange glow. He has half a mind to just wander into your bedroom and relieve himself before you even know he's home, but tearing his eyes away feels like a crime.

With a flourish you swing your hair around, giggling at yourself when the stiff parts of your curls barely move an inch. You let out a shriek when you finally catch Katsuki standing in the door way, one of the knives you used to chop vegetables seeming to magically appear in your hands. Call Katsuki crazy if you want to, but he can feel his body practically catch on fire when the tip of your knife just barely catches his Adams apple.

What can he say. It's hot as fuck that you know how to protect yourself, whether you're a prohero or not. If he has to go out this way, surrounded by the smell of the dinner his girlfriend cooked him, her eyes glinting with something both powerful and dangerous, well he'd say he must have some damn good karma. Fuck all that dying as a martyr shit, this is the best way to be sent to the grave by far.

"Katsuki..." You sigh, panic easing out of your muscles as you lower the knife. "You can't scare me like that."

Katsuki scowls, trying to hide the real reason his face is burning. "Shut the fuck up. You're the one waving that shit around. What have I told you about situational awareness, dumbass?"

He regrets his words as soon as your little frown over takes your features. He may have been a little harsh, damn it. It didn't even help either, his whole body still feels like it's on fire.

"Bad day at work, Katsu?"

You put the knife back on the counter, and bring your hands up to his face, because of course you do. Katsuki is already having a hard time keeping himself in check, and now you have to look at him with your stupid fucking sweet soft eyes. His chest feels like it's caving in on itself you're just making it worse. The worst part about it, is he even kind of likes it. God fucking damn it.

Katsuki places his hand behind your head and shoves your face into his chest, not able to look you in the eye when you're staring so tenderly. Your hands move downwards to rest on his back, allowing both of you to hold each other close. Katsuki scoffs.

"Didn't I tell you to shut the fuck up?"

You giggle, and Katsuki decides for the who-knows-how-many-th time that he wants to hear that sound for the rest of his life. He doesn't know what he would do without your stupid fucking smile.

Woohoo !! Second post !!

Katsuki feels so much cuteness aggression that he literally gets a hard on. That's it. That's the fic.

I would say "someone save his poor soul 😔" but I fear you are what salvation looks like to him so there'd be no point.

｡⁠☆Requests open

[hoshifighting]

hey baby, these last days I'm thinking so much about a dk (since he is all buffed out 🫦) and a reader so shy and has liked never came before... so the she and dk are dating and they wait a bit to do the deed and she doesn't tell him, but when his fingers are inside her she just moves like so much and try to push it off all because she never felt this much :c, then dk noticed she's a virgin and treats her so well

buff dk changed lifes

WARNINGS: virginity loss, fingering, overwhelming, inexperienced!reader, oral (both), begging, edging.

you’re already feeling flushed and flustered just from kissing, hands tangled in his hair, his lips warm against yours, and when his hand slips lower, fingers grazing down between your thighs, your whole body jolts, he murmurs something low about how horny you may be, and you feel your breath catch as his fingers slip under the edge of your underwear.

the second his fingers slide inside you, it’s like everything kicks into overdrive. your hips buck up all on their own, your mind foggy, and you gasp, hands coming down to grip his wrist like it’s too wet, too much, too intense, too everything. you squirm, legs trying to close, but he just keeps his hand steady, his fingers stilling inside you for a moment, like he’s giving you a chance to catch your breath.

“hey, hey,” he whispers, “you okay, baby?” something curious in his tone, and when you don’t respond right away, he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes going all soft when he sees the shy, overwhelmed look on your face. and maybe he puts it together from how tightly you’re clenching around his fingers, how your body’s trembling just from a light fingering. “wait… is this your first time?”

you swallow, cheeks going all hot, but you nod, glancing away like you’re embarrassed. his expression changes instantly—any mischief is replaced by this gentle, almost reverent look, like he’s just discovered something precious.

“oh, baby,” he murmurs, hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin so tenderly it almost makes your heart ache. “you should’ve told me. i would’ve taken things a little slower.”

you try to laugh it off, but it comes out more like a shaky breath. “i didn’t want you to… think i wasn’t ready or something.”

he smiles, leaning in to kiss you softly. “we’ll go as slow as you need. and if anything feels like too much, you just tell me, okay?”

you nod, and he eases his fingers back in, spitting on it to make it wetter, watching your reactions like he’s memorizing every little gasp and shiver. his fingers curl inside you, pressing is ''button''and it’s like a spark goes off inside you, makes you feel so sensitive you almost want to pull away, but you’re already too far gone.

“you feel that, baby? feel how good you’re squeezing me?” his fingers start moving and every time he curls them, it’s like this wave of pleasure builds up inside you, your body reacting on its own, clenching around him, hips lifting like you can’t get enough even though it feels like too much.

“seok—seokmin,” you whimper, and he leans in, lips brushing over your neck as his fingers keep working you open, the sound of everything echoing around the room, soft, slick, wet. he’s watching you the whole time, eyes locked on your face like he’s looking for any sign that you’re uncomfortable, but all he sees is you, flushed and breathless, trying to keep up with how good it all feels.

“you’re doing so good, baby. just let yourself feel it.” his thumb finds the clit, pressing down in these slow circles, and it’s like every nerve in your body fires up, hips rolling viciously, squeezing around his fingers so tight it’s like you’re holding onto him with everything you’ve got. he keeps whispering sweet, filthy little things, telling you how good you feel, his words melting into your skin as you get closer. and when you finally reach that peak, it’s like your body takes over, clenching around the digits,in seconds u are blissfully ruined in his arms.

oh, and he got patience like you wouldn’t believe. he’s not rushing anything; it’s almost excruciating how slow he takes things, like he’s teaching you the art of the dirty 😭, building you up in ways you didn’t even know you could feel before.

every time he’s got you spread out beneath him, his only goal is to take his time, making you wet with his mouth and his hands. fingers finding just the right spots to make your back arch, to make you gasp and cling to him. and he’ll look up at you between your thighs; “this is all you, baby. look at how much you’re already giving me.”

and god, he loves making you beg. the way he lingers between your legs, mouth hot and skilled, dragging you to the edge only to pull back at the last second, grinning when you whine, when you whisper his name all desperate. “you want more?” he’ll murmur, giving you just a teasing lick on the swollen clit, watching you melt. but he’s got that strict patience, only letting his fingers slide back inside when its wet, good and ready, working you slow.

sometimes, when he’s feeling particularly wicked, he’ll make you beg to do something for him. he’ll settle back against the headboard, a smirk playing on his lips as he pats his thigh. “if you wanna take care of me, you’ve gotta show me, baby,” he’ll say encouraging. “gotta know that you’re serious about it. come on, i know you can.” and you’ll find yourself crawling over, nervous but so desperate to please, eyes wide as you look up at him, hands trembling as you reach for his cock.

when you finally get his cock in your mouth, he’s so sweet, so patient, talking you through it, guiding you with gentle words and praise. “just like that, baby… that’s it,” he’ll murmur, trying his best to not moan as. he guides you. “you look so good like this, you know? so good for me.” and he’s got his hand in your hair, not forcing or rushing, just there, guiding you, holding you close. every time you pull back, gasping for air, he just smiles, brushing his thumb over your drooled bottom lip.

but he doesn’t let you get too far.

every time you think tonight’s the night, when you’re all worked up and ready, practically begging for him, he’ll just grin, leaning down to kiss you slow and deep, his fingers sliding right back between your thighs. “not yet, baby... not until you’re really, really ready. until you’re craving me so much you can’t stand it.” and he keeps you there, keeps you on edge night after night, learning every inch of your body, every little sound you make, until he’s got you wrapped around his finger—literally (?).

[simpforpeterp]

stanford pines x reader

I Believe in a Thing Called Love

summary: on the road trip to bring the kids back to california, you have to keep ford awake!

warnings: none!

word count: 749

After deciding to drive the kids back to California this year for a road trip, Ford was unlucky enough to be picked to drive overnight. Stan, Mabel, and Dipper are asleep in the backseat despite the music you were blaring to keep you awake so you can keep Ford awake.

After all, if you had fallen asleep in the passenger seat, it’d only make Ford more tired. So, you’re night driving buddies. He has a lot of catching up to do music-wise so you’ve been playing your favorite songs going up from each year.

He, to be honest, doesn’t give a shit about the music. He’s not a music person, it takes up too much time and can be distracting. He especially hates when songs are over three minutes because he thinks the singers are being selfish by taking so many minutes of his life.

But watching you while it plays? Singing and having such a great time? His heart could explode any minute now. This thing between you two hasn’t been spoken about yet. It’s only been stolen glances and a silent yearning. Neither of you believe that the other would be interested because of the slight age difference.

Nonetheless, you can flirt with him in very small ways through the songs you play.

“Can't explain all the feelings that you're making me feel. My heart's in overdrive and you're behind the steering wheel,” You place a hand on his arm that gets a smile out of him before you jokingly snake it up to his shoulder. “Touching you, touching me

Touching you, God, you're touching me.”

You sit up straighter for the chorus so happily and in shock that the people asleep in the back are still asleep.

“I believe in a thing called love. Just listen to the rhythm of my heart. There's a chance we could make it now. We'll be rocking 'til the sun goes down. I believe in a thing called love, hoo, ooh-hoo.” You tap along the windows as you sing, the wind moving your hair perfectly.

“He’s not singing, he’s yelling.” Ford tells you through laughter, speaking over the music.

“You totally suck. You’re no fun.” You laugh with him as he slightly turns the volume down.

“You totally suck.” He jokingly mocks your voice and then realizes what just happened. He just acted childish for the first time in decades.

“And what do you listen to?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, come on. You’re not THAT boring.” You laugh and the sound is music to his ears as you slightly turn your body to face him even more. He desperately tries to keep his eyes on the road but it’s so hard when it comes to you.

“You really don’t listen to anything?” You ask, glancing over at him, curiosity in your eyes and he shrugs, trying to play it off.

“I…never made much time for it,” He admits, his voice soft. “Always had too much on my mind. Music felt like…well, like a distraction.”

“You’re allowed to be distracted every now and then, you know. Life isn’t just about… equations and discoveries and whatever else goes on in that brain of yours,” You shake your head, amused. “I’m distracted ninety percent of the time. Music is rarely the cause. It actually helps me focus sometimes. It drowns out the noises that drive me crazy like if I’m in a library, it feels like my senses are amplified. I hate hearing every push in and out of everyone’s chairs and pens writing, I need my headphones.”

“Maybe so. But I don’t think I’d ever be good at it the way you are.” He hums.

“Good at music?” You laugh, incredulous. “Ford, it’s not about being good at it. It’s about feeling it.”

Ford watches you, captivated. The way you let yourself be so free, so uninhibited—it’s something he envies, a part of life he’s never quite understood but longs to experience.

“I’m not the type of guy to ‘feel’ the sound of a bunch of different instruments.” He chuckles.

“Maybe you’re just lame then.” You gently nudge him.

“Lame? How many degrees do I need to get to not be lame?” He asks.

“Negative ten. You need to loosen up.” You tell him.

“And how do I do that?”

“I don’t know. Listen to some music.” You tell him with a small smile pulling at your lips as you lean on the window and look away.

[ghostlyglimmer]

Where Are You? (And I'm So Sorry)

Summary:

Tucker Foley receives a desperate text from his best friend, Danny Fenton, asking for help. When Tucker arrives at Danny’s basement, he finds the inactive Ghost Portal Project is on.

The evening had been quiet—too quiet for Tucker Foley’s liking. He had been tinkering with his tech in the comfort of his room when his phone buzzed on the desk. Picking it up casually, Tucker froze at the sight of the message.

“I’m in trouble, come quick.”

It was from Danny.

Tucker’s heart skipped a beat. Deep in Tucker’s gut alarm bells rang that something had gone very wrong. He trusted his gut with his life. Tucker’s hands moved on autopilot, tossing his stuff into a backpack as he sprinted out the door, heart hammering in his chest.

It wasn’t a long run to Fenton Works, but the growing knot of anxiety in his stomach made the journey feel like an eternity. He tried calling Danny twice, but both calls went straight to voicemail. No answer. No sign that Danny had even seen the messages Tucker sent back.

By the time Tucker reached Danny’s house, the sun was sinking low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the street. The familiar shape of Fenton Works loomed before him, and Tucker’s stomach churned at the sight of green light seeping through the  tiny basement window. The ghost portal. Had something gone wrong with the portal?

Bursting through the front door, Tucker barely paused to catch his breath as he descended the stairs into the lab. The moment his feet hit the basement floor, the hum of the ghost portal surrounded him. The air was thick with an unnatural energy, sending goosebumps prickling across his skin.

But it wasn’t the glowing portal that made Tucker’s heart stop.

It was Danny.

He was sprawled out in front of the portal, unmoving, his body limp against the cold metal floor. His black and white Phantom suit was torn, his face pale— too pale —and his chest wasn’t rising. There was no mistaking it. Tucker had seen death before, but never like this. Never Danny.

Tucker dropped his bag and ran to his friend, dropping to his knees beside Danny’s lifeless form. His hands trembled as he touched Danny’s wrist, then his neck, desperately searching for a pulse.

There was nothing. No heartbeat. No warmth. Only cold, stiff skin.

“No… Danny, come on, man, wake up!” Tucker’s voice broke as he gently shook his best friend, hoping for some sign, any sign that this wasn’t real. “You can’t—this can’t be happening!”

But Danny didn’t move. He was dead—had been for hours.

Tucker’s breath came in ragged gasps, his mind reeling. How had this happened? 

And yet here he was—cold, lifeless, gone.

Tucker wiped at his eyes, his vision blurring with tears. The ghost portal behind him thrummed ominously, casting an eerie green glow across the room. It was on.

The portal was working.

His parents had been trying to get it operational for years, and somehow… somehow it had activated.

Tucker’s stomach twisted. Had Danny been caught in it? Had the portal malfunctioned, or had a ghost attack gone wrong? The possibilities raced through his mind, each one worse than the last.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Tucker blinked, momentarily confused. With shaking hands, he pulled out his phone and looked at the screen.

A new text.

From Danny.

“Where are you? Hurry.”

The blood drained from Tucker’s face. He stared at the screen, his mind unable to process what he was seeing. It couldn’t be real. Danny was dead. Dead. His body was lying right in front of him. How could he be sending texts?

His phone buzzed again, the noise slicing through the heavy silence of the lab like a knife.

“Please, hurry. I’m still here.”

Tucker’s breath hitched, and he glanced back at Danny’s body. His best friend hadn’t moved. He was still pale, still cold. Still dead. Tucker’s hands trembled as he looked between Danny’s body and the glowing ghost portal.

“Still here…” Tucker whispered, his voice barely audible. 

Another buzz.

“Please, Tucker. You need to help me.”

Tucker wiped at his eyes again, determination settling in his chest as he stared at the swirling green vortex of the portal.

His phone buzzed one last time.

“Please. I’m scared.”

[mushynka]

Okay. This is my first fic ever so please read this 🫶

This story is intended for mature audiences (18+). Please note that English is not my first language, so there might be some language errors or awkward phrasing in the text sometimes. Feel free to correct me in the comments. I am still learning english so pls. try not to make too much fun out of me. Additionally, this story may not strictly follow the events as depicted in Marvel films or comics and contains creative deviations. I kindly ask that you do not copy or redistribute my work without permission. Yes. I know it's cringe lmao. Enjoy anyway!

Title: "Building a Future"

Words: "3000" (idk exactly)

Characters: Logan Howlett (Origins) x Fem. reader

The fire crackled in the hearth, casting long, flickering shadows across the cabin’s rustic interior. You sat by the fire, the soft light from the flames dancing across the room, your legs tucked underneath you. The storm outside was fierce—rain pelted the windows, and the wind howled through the trees surrounding the cabin. It was the kind of night that invited quiet moments, the kind where the world outside seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you.

Logan, or Wolverine as most people called him, sat opposite you, sharpening one of his knives with a focused expression. He had removed his shirt hours ago, the heat from the fire mixing with the thick layers of tension in his muscles. You couldn’t help but admire the way the flickering light highlighted the intricate scars that lined his chest and arms—reminders of his past, of the battles he had fought, both external and internal.

He glanced up from his work, catching you staring. His lips twitched in a half-smile, a familiar teasing look in his dark eyes.

"What?" he grumbled, though there was no real irritation in his voice. "You don’t need to be that fascinated by my scars. I’m not exactly a masterpiece."

You smiled softly, pushing yourself up from the couch and walking toward him. "Maybe not, but I find them... telling," you said, sitting down beside him. "They show your story. Your history."

Logan sighed, leaning back against the armrest of the chair, his steel-blue eyes meeting yours. "It’s a history I’d rather forget sometimes."

You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. His arms, though tough and weathered, still felt reassuring, like home. Logan’s past had always been a complicated subject between you two, and you knew it wasn’t something he opened up about easily. But you didn’t mind. You were patient. You understood that not everything needed to be spoken for it to be real.

The silence between you stretched on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet where two people could simply exist together, where being with someone was enough, even if the world outside seemed chaotic and uncertain.

"You ever think about... the future?" you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan didn’t answer immediately. He took a deep breath, his shoulders shifting as if he were preparing for something difficult. "The future," he muttered, staring into the fire. "Not much use in thinking about it. It always seems out of reach."

You nodded, understanding what he meant. Logan had lived a life of endless turmoil, and thinking about a future—about stability, about peace—was a luxury he’d never had. The idea of planning for something long-term seemed almost laughable to him. But you could sense that, deep down, there was a part of him that longed for it.

"I think about it," you admitted, turning your head to meet his eyes. "I think about us... a future where we don’t have to hide, where we don’t have to fight every day."

Logan’s gaze softened, his expression unreadable for a moment. "You mean, like... kids? Family?" he asked, his voice hesitant, as though the word was foreign to him.

You smiled gently, feeling the weight of his words. "Yeah. I don’t know. It’s just a thought. But... I want a family. Maybe not now, but eventually. I want us to have something real."

The idea hung in the air between you like an unspoken promise, delicate and fragile. Logan shifted uncomfortably, his usual guarded demeanor slipping just a little.

"You know my... situation," he said, his voice low, almost apologetic. "I’m not exactly father material."

You reached out, gently placing your hand on his, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. "Logan," you whispered, "I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you to be you. You’ve already proven how much you care."

He turned his hand over to hold yours, the roughness of his calloused fingers in contrast to your softer skin. His grip tightened ever so slightly, as if reassuring himself that this moment wasn’t a dream.

"I’m not sure I’m built for that kind of life," Logan admitted, his voice rough but tender. "I’ve never really had the chance to think about it."

You leaned in, your lips brushing the side of his neck as you whispered, "You don’t have to decide now. Just... know that I’d be happy with whatever we build. Together."

For a long moment, Logan said nothing. But you could feel his body relax beside you, a slight exhale escaping his chest. He wasn’t saying yes. He wasn’t saying no. But for once, he wasn’t shutting down the possibility.

As the night wore on, you found yourself drifting in and out of a comfortable sleep, your head on his shoulder, your fingers laced with his. The rain began to slow, the winds calming to a gentle murmur. But the warmth between you two remained, a quiet promise of something that might one day be, even if it was only a distant hope.

[wtfdemother]

Slasher AU Voorhees!König yummy, hockey masks. NSFW below, happy Kinkvember day 12 ☃️🤝

post dividers by tsunami-of-tears

CW: Outdoor sex, creampie, he chases you around camp. Established relationship.

Voorhees!König X CampCook!Reader

Voorhees!König who was in a peculiar mood that morning. Hell, the sun wasn’t even up yet and he was getting hungry. For food? Definitely, breakfast was on the list of things to do, among other things… namely you.

Voorhees!König who lazily laid at your side, waiting patiently for you to finally stir so he could kiss you. He waited, and waited, peering down at your peaceful expression as the first chirp of the morning song birds sounded outside your window. Warm sun rays bask the wood of the cabin in its gentle glow, you open your eyes. “G’morning…” a groggy smile tugs at your lips.

Voorhees!König who wastes no time reuniting his scarred lips to yours, how he loves the feel of them. Reverently he presses his forehead over yours and closes his eyes, taking a moment to inhale a deep breath in and appreciate what he’s got, of who he has. To be thankful of the face he gets to wake up beside to every morning. You. Sweet, beautiful you.

Voorhees!König who follows you around camp as you make your first rounds, knowing the place like the back of his hand plus your faithful routine. He uses this to his advantage later on in the day, where the sun isn’t as far up in the sky anymore and that it got a lot darker outside. You spook easy, and that greatly amuses him. He thought he’d have himself a bit of fun, already up to no good as he stalked the forest grounds, mindful for his size of the assortment of dead leaves scattered across the earth. Not making a peep.

Voorhees!König who looms over in the corner of your eye, Camp Crystal Lake was beautiful… when the sun was out to shed light on every nook and cranny. Not so much beauty anymore as it was terrifying now that the wilderness was shrouded in darkness. Still, something eerily drew you to that tall, dark figure who somehow gave the impression of dwarfing the tree beside him with only the width of his shoulders. “König?” You tentatively call out, hesitant to take a step forwards or back.

Voorhees!König who you couldn’t see clearly even in the dim, white light the moon offered. Something cold rushed down your spine like someone doused you in ice water. When the figure remained still you bolted, dread telling you to run. You were right, the person gave chase moments later. You speed through the cedars, left right left, dodging narrow paths and jumping over deeply embedded tree roots in the soil. You think you’re being clever changing directions, but no sooner did you hear the thundering steps of the man coming from behind you.

Voorhees!König who is hot on your trail, adrenaline burning in his veins as heavy footsteps boom through the forest. Your lungs burn, inhaling greedy gulps of air with every hastened breath. Your vision blurs and your ears ring loud enough to block out any sound. When your legs threaten to buckle underneath you, he catches you, sending both your bodies rolling down a pile of dead leaves, scattering them above in the crisp atmosphere.

Voorhees!König whom you can feel silently laughing to himself as he holds you close, mirth tinting a pair of baby blues behind that stupid hockey mask. Your nose turns sour from the smell of embarrassment, you scowl. “I hate you so much for that. Asshole.” You try to shove him but he doesn’t care, doesn’t even budge from his place. He cradles you on the forest floor, it’s not as cold and hard in his arms. He doesn’t let the adrenaline die down, tugging at his cargo pants until they sit snug at his hips. He lifts his mask up enough just to kiss you, roughly palming an asscheek as he swallows all complaints. “You didn’t have to scare me…” you mumbled against his kiss.

Voorhees!König who gives you one last sheepish grunt before sinking himself deep into your warmth, just wanting to fuck you nasty. His hips snap forward, stuttering to find a good rhythm, his mind too far gone to think about aesthetics now. He just wanted to fuck you raw, right now and here where you could be as loud as need be. His balls hung heavy with unexpressed semen, peering down at your caged form through the haziness, pupils blown and unfocused with want and desire swirled into one dangerous cocktail.

Vorhees!König who shamelessly groans into your ear, hoisting your hips up in the air as he grabs a hold of the ample flesh of your backside, hearing the wet, echoing sounds of flesh slapping with every given thrust. He just wants to be lost in you, consume you whole and let be consumed by the one he adores most entirely. He’s lost in the feeling, you coat him so generously in the sheen of your own arousal, he can’t help but to pepper your flushed, cherub cheeks in kisses as a silent praise. He grunts approvingly, wishing he could say you were taking him so well, instead he smooths the hairs back from your forehead.

Vorhees!König who can feel his cock twitch inside you, rubbing his face against your cheek in a wordless apology that he cannot last much longer. Your pussy spasms around his shaft before he could reach and it makes for his release all the stronger. You cry out his name in broken syllables, drawling out the letters until they intermingle with your moans. He bites down on your shoulder, hard, tears pour from the corners of your eyes as they roll to the back of your skull. A shared, searing warmth washes over you both as you come undone. König spills himself deep, hips slowing down their pace to a slamming halt, his tip probing at your cervix as it pulses ropes of his essence into your welcoming cunt.

Vorhees!König who lays with you until you both catch your breath, making no visible attempt to pull out, at least not anytime soon. He lays there with you on the cold, hard dirt, taking in the variety of smells of his surroundings. The fresh scent of damp soil contrasted with the heavy musk of sex in the air, he’s never felt so at peace with all this energy spent.

Vorhees!König who carries you back to the cabin like the gentleman he is, drawing you a nice warm bath before sinking in himself, nuzzling into your shoulder from behind. And before you crawl into bed that night, he kisses you on the crown of your head, only pulling away enough to sign, ‘I love you’.

Lucky him who gets to wake up to breakfast in the morning. He deserves it anyway.

[lunarmoves]

I know it's cliché in pressure fics at this point but I can't help but wonder how "who I see" would go if seb and reader's situations were switched. I like to imagine human Seb lives in an area where there's wild animals, so he has a gun just in case. The first time he meets his fishy spouse, he whips it out and they frantically have to explain himself so he doesn't shoot. Seb stays strapped in every universe

"seb stays strapped in every universe" LMAOOOOOOOOOO. funnily enough i dont think ive seen many swap aus! but i imagine it wouldnt be too different ngl. like, sebastian would still probably move out to the coast, or a house next to a lake that's connected to the ocean or smth at the very least—where the area is very forest-y so he's got his shotgun at the ready. he would hallucinate you throughout the years and you would find him after getting into contact with innoinc post-urbanshade. the only difference i can think of in contrast to "who i see" is how you'd reveal yourself to him

sebastian would not have that "happy bday" moment out on the docks, so you would never really get the resolve to actually go up to him. he's quite good at hiding his feelings, yk? you wouldn't be able to tell he's still grieving, especially not with the glimpses you'd catch of him from the opposite side of the lake. i imagine the catalyst that would bring the both of you together would be... well.....

(ahem. cw injury, blood, gun. NOT caused by sebastian dw)

maybe one day you're out on the sea after having a meeting with some reps at innoinc and you get harpooned by a fisherman who thought you were a shark or something. it's easy for you to slice the rope of the harpoon, but now you've got this big ass weapon embedded in your side and you know it's a bad idea to pull it out and that you need to get help immediately. the only thing on your mind, however, is to get back to sebastian. so you swim and you swim and you swim until you find yourself washed ashore by the lake one night. it's an area shrouded by trees and bushes alike, and you spend hours half-conscious under the shade of the overgrowth.

dawn comes and goes. by the time the sun has crawled halfway across the sky, you're just on the cusp of dehydration. the injury to your flank has stopped bleeding as heavily by now, but you feel weak. you can feel dried blood stuck to your hands and plastering the thin material of your stupid shirt to your skin. any smallest movement jostles the harpoon and sends waves of agony running up your torso. you're still partially submerged in the lake's water, but you're definitely not strong enough to pull yourself back in to escape the noonday glare.

that's when you hear it—the sound of branches and twigs snapping under thick boots.

it makes your eyes snap open. but before you can do anything other than crane your head to the direction the sounds are coming from, someone steps into view.

it's sebastian.

and he has a gun trained on your face.

you freeze. it's like a plug was pulled on your brain, sending all your thoughts washing helplessly down a drain. there's a terse, terse moment where both of you don't do a single thing. you can't see his face beyond the barrel of his gun.

it's like the very forest is holding its breath.

and then you make the mistake of reaching out to him, another sharp lance of pain shooting down your body.

you groan—your hand instead moving to clutch at your side—and his name leaves your mouth on its choked tailend.

"seh— sebas... tian," you rasp out, tilting your head in an attempt to catch a glimpse of his face. it's too bright out here, it's too fucking bright. everything hurts. you try again, breathing in haltingly. "sebastian..."

you think it startles him, a little, for the gun lowers a smidge. blue-green eyes—wide yet sharp—make contact with your own

"you—" he starts, then abruptly stops, his gaze moving up and down your body rapidly. processing, you think. "why do you—"

"fuck, sebastian, it's..." you take in another deep breath. your vision is starting to waver along the edges, muddled like you're underwater. "it's me."

the gun gets pointed back at your head and you feel something jump in your stomach when you hear the click of the safety latch disengaging.

"why the hell," he snarls, "do you sound like— like—"

you swallow, closing your eyes momentarily, then reopening them so you could look at him. really look at him.

"baby," you say quietly, so quietly you're almost not sure if he hears you. you don't break eye contact with him, taking in his smooth face. the dark circles under his eyes. the glint of his lip ring. the sharp gleam of white teeth bared at you. and you exhale, long and broken. "it's me. it's me."

he makes a strangled sound like he doesn't know what to do, what to think. his lips press against each other, his eyebrows furrow down at you like he's trying to piece together what he's seeing. trying to parse it out like he's not sure if what he's seeing is real.

but you're getting woozier by the minute. and he still hasn't lowered that gun.

"i missed you," you slur even as your eyelids flutter in your vain attempt to keep them open. "so, so much."

and when you finally pass out, the stricken look on his face follows you into your dreams.