#and i really desperately wanted to read it

[starryjake]

nightmares | s.j

in which you have a nightmare and seek comfort from your roommate.

pairing: jake x fem!reader

includes: nipple play, pussy eating, sleepy sex, unprotected sex (lmk if i missed anything).

it was childish, you knew: to be so afraid of a dumb nightmare that you had to go to your roommate for comfort.

but there you were, absolutely petrified. you laid flat on your back in your bed, not moving a muscle because you were so afraid. it didn’t help that it was storming outside either, the occasional cracks of thunder and lightning making you shiver.

when you checked the time on your phone, it read 2:19 a.m.

you briefly wondered if your roommate, jake, would be awake. it was dumb to even consider it because you knew he cherished his sleep, so he would definitely be passed out with it being that late.

even though you knew that, you still needed to be around another person. you were way too afraid to be by yourself right then.

you took a deep breath and pulled yourself out of bed. you leapt through your dark room and opened the door into the hallway. jake’s room was just across from yours.

his door was closed. you pressed your ear against it but couldn’t hear a thing. you were slightly frustrated that he was asleep, but it wasn’t like it was his job to stay awake for you just in case you had a nightmare.

slowly, you twisted open the door. his room was completely dark, but a flash of lightning illuminated his sleeping form for just a second. as you suspected, he was completely knocked out, buried under the covers in his bed.

you took a hesitant step inside, not entirely sure what you were doing by going into his room. you just needed company and the reassurance that your nightmare wasn’t real.

the door came to a close behind you, the sound of it shutting a little louder than you would’ve liked.

jake stirred, sitting up ever so slightly.

“y/n?” he mumbled, eyes squinted to look at you in the darkness.

“sorry i woke you,” you apologized, awkwardly standing by the end of his bed.

“what are you doing?” he asked. “what’s wrong?”

“i just…i had a nightmare,” you told him.

saying it out loud, you were embarrassed. you’d woken your roommate up like a child. you were selfish too for doing that. he worked hard and he was tired, thus he needed a full night of sleep.

“nightmare?” jake questioned.

“yeah,” you said. “i know, it’s dumb. i was just scared.”

“c’mere.”

your body filled with warmth and relief at the soft word from jake. he wasn’t mad, he was actually inviting you into his bed to provide you with the comfort you so desperately needed.

you crawled into his bed and slid under the covers with him. his bed was so warm and you immediately felt about a million times safer just being near him.

you laid on your side and he slid his arm around your waist, pressing his front side to your back.

you’d been roommates with jake for about a year, but you’d never once cuddled. you were friends—good friends, but you barely ever even touched. you never really hugged each other, never held hands, and especially never spooned in his bed before.

“d’you wanna talk about it?” he asked, his breath warm against your ear.

“no,” you said, not wanting to have to relive the awful nightmare. “i just couldn’t be alone.”

jake inhaled and all he could smell was the intoxicating scent of your shampoo. you were so warm and delicate in his embrace, he was definitely freaking out but trying his best not to show it.

“i’m here now,” he said. “nothing is gonna get you if i’m here.”

his words, for whatever reason, made your heart pound, made butterflies flutter in your tummy. to hear those sentences come from your incredibly attractive roommate made you…excited.

sunghoon was the reason you two knew each other. you were friends with sunghoon, jake was friends with sunghoon, and you all started hanging out in groups. you and jake coincidentally needed roommates at the same time, and then there you were.

you’d always thought he was hot and not only his physical appearance, but his personality too. he was sweet and caring and gentle, and you just really, really enjoyed him. his cute accent was a plus too.

“thank you,” you exhaled. “i knew you were sleeping and i really didn’t wanna wake you. i just—”

“hey, it’s okay,” he assured.

you suddenly felt the soft tingling sensation of his fingers grazing up and down your t-shirt clad back. you sighed in pleasure, letting your eyes flutter shut.

“feels so good,” you told him, your voice in a mumbled daze.

“yeah?” he replied. “want me to keep going?”

“mmm, yes please,” you hummed tiredly.

jake cooed at your sleepy state and continued running the tips of his fingertips up and down the length of your back.

he continued to do that until you were slowly lulled into a soft doze.

after a few minutes, jake spoke.

“can i lift your shirt?” he asked.

your eyes flew open, startled by his sudden voice in what was such a quiet room.

“yeah,” you told him.

he slowly pushed your t-shirt up your body, revealing your smooth back. he left your shirt bunched up around your chest and reattached his fingers to your back, using his nails to glide up and down.

you leaned back into his touch, sighing in pleasure. jake’s breathing got ever so slightly heavier by the sight of your pleasured reactions and your pliant body against his.

he eventually switched to using the palm of his hand to rub your back soothingly. he rubbed along your back before his hand started inching to your side, and he rubbed there too.

he gently pulled you down so you were laying on your back. with him still laying on his side, he had a height advantage over you. he looked down at your tired face, licking his lips.

neither of you even said anything and mutually started leaning in at the same time. the moment was already intimate from him rubbing your back, it just felt right and normal to kiss.

his warm lips were heavy against yours, kissing you slowly and deeply. his hand came up to cradle your face, caressing your warm blushing cheek with his thumb.

“you’re so pretty,” he mumbled against your lips.

if you were any more awake, you probably would’ve been squealing and jumping up and down.

he trailed his hand down from your face and to the side of your waist. your shirt was still raised slightly, revealing a sliver of your stomach.

jake pushed your shirt up and stopped just below your breasts.

“can i keep going?” he asked, pulling back and looking into your eyes.

you were so excited about where things were going, you would’ve been an idiot to say no.

“yeah,” you answered, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him back down to your lips.

he smiled against your lips and inched his tongue inside your mouth. you responded immediately, rubbing the slippery tip of your tongue against his. the sound was purely lewd, all wet and kissing noises.

he pushed your shirt up until it was over your chest, revealing your tits to him for the first time. the cool air in the room immediately hardened your nipples.

jake cupped your breast in his hand and swiped his thumb over your nipple, making you gasp and arch into his touch. he pulled away from your lips for a second to wet the tip of his pointer finger. he then brought his finger down to your nipple and rubbed it in little circles.

you moaned against his lips, jutting your hips up because you were suddenly a lot more needy that you’d realized. with the way he was playing with your nipple, it was starting to get you worked up.

he departed from your lips, trailing kisses down your chin, your neck, your collarbones, and finally to your chest.

he circled his tongue around the bud before taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking on it gently. you moaned out, entangling your fingers in his thick hair.

he played with the other neglected nipple, massaging it between his thumb and index finger. you spread your legs and tugged on his hair softly, showing to him how good it felt.

“you like that, baby?” he asked, licking your nipple in circles again. “is it makin’ you feel better?”

“fuck,” you moaned. “yeah, i love it.”

“cute,” he chuckled, switching to suck on the other nipple.

you weren’t sure how long that went on for. you just knew it was long enough for your panties to be completely soaked by the time he pulled away.

he kissed down your bare stomach and stopped where the waistband of your sweatpants were.

“can i keep making you feel good, baby?” he asked, his hand coming to wrap around your thigh.

you needed him to make you feel good. your pussy was so sensitive from being so aroused and you just needed something.

“mmm, please,” you answered. “it’s sticky.”

“it’s sticky?” he repeated, peeling your sweatpants down your legs. “let me see.”

he spread your legs and found that your flimsy pair of panties were completely soaked through from your arousal. he gulped, bringing his finger up and dragging it down your clothed slit.

you whimpered, jutting your hips up to try and get more contact out of just his one finger. he pushed your hips down.

“poor thing,” he cooed. “you’re soaked. did you like getting your nipples sucked that much?”

“yeah,” you answered pathetically, embarrassed.

“sweet girl,” he said, pouting at you. “gonna take care of you, angel.”

your pussy clenched around nothing.

he was quick to hook his fingers into your panties and slide them down your legs, tossing them onto the floor with your sweatpants. you were bare in front of him then, your cunt dripping and eager.

he spread your legs as wide as they could go. you felt so vulnerable underneath him. you’d never even hugged the guy, yet now you were there with your glistening cunt twitching in front of his face.

he held your thighs as he leaned in and look a long lick from the bottom of your sopping pussy all the way up to your puffy clit. he moaned as the taste of you infiltrated his senses, taking over his head. he knew just from that one lick alone that he was addicted.

“oh my god…” you trailed off, your hand finding his hair again to hold on to.

he started flicking his tongue up and down your folds, pushing his face into your cunt as deep as he could. he wrapped his lips around your clit, making out with it and drooling all over it.

for a moment, he pulled back to just look at your pussy. spread your lips with his thumbs, watching your drooling hole convulse.

“fuck, baby,” he nearly growled.

he couldn’t stay away for long and his face was buried back into your pussy a second later. he swiped his tongue back and forth against your clit, his eyes fluttering closed at the taste and the feeling of it.

“mmm,” he hummed into your pussy. “so sweet, baby. tastes so good. could’ve been eating you out since the day we moved in together if i knew you were this sweet.”

you could barely process any of his words, so lost in the pleasure he was giving you. his tongue worked your pussy like magic, slurping up your arousal and nibbling on your clit and thrusting in and out of your leaking hole.

“jake,” you cried out, tugging on his hair. “‘m close, fuck. i’m so close.”

jake dug his fingers into your thighs, frowning slightly in concentration. his tongue continued to move rapidly on your hot, gushing cunt.

the knot in your stomach suddenly snapped and your entire body fell weak. your eyes rolled back into your head and you fucked your hips against his tongue to ride out your orgasm. he moaned against you as the taste of your cum dripped down his throat.

he left your pussy with a kiss before sitting up on his knees. staring down at you, so sleepy and fucked out, he wanted nothing more than to stuff his cock deep inside of you and just pound until you both went dumb.

jake rubbed your thigh, watching your eyelids grow heavier and heavier.

“can i fuck you, baby?” he asked, slightly nervous about what you’d say.

you were tired, clearly. he wasn’t sure if you’d want to.

“yeah, jakey,” you said sweetly.

his heart throbbed at the nickname, and the fact that you were going to let him fuck you. the idea of what your tight cunt would feel like wrapped around his cock made him lightheaded.

he was quick to rid himself of his clothes. he was hard from eating you out and only needed to jerk himself off for a second before he was ready to put it in.

he lined the pretty pink tip of his cock up with your slippery hole and eased his way inside, not wanting to hurt you. he watched your reactions closely.

you looked up at him, your jaw falling slack at the feeling of his cock slowly filling your pussy up. your legs shook as he pushed himself to the brim, the tip of his cock hitting the spongey spot deep inside of you.

“oh,” you whimpered. “feels so good. i’m so full.”

“yeah, baby?” he cooed. “you nice and full of my cock?”

you nodded rapidly, sitting yourself up slightly so you could see his cock slowly slide out of you before pushing back in. your walls fluttered around him.

your pussy was so warm, wet, tight, and absolutely intoxicating just like how he knew it would be.

“such a good pussy,” he moaned, holding onto your hips as he thrusted. “got my dick all wet in your sweet cum, baby.”

there was a creamy ring of your cum around the base of his dick, which made a lewd squelching sound every time he thrusted.

you just whimpered in response, turning your head to the side. he was fucking you so deeply, dragging every inch of his long length through your tight walls.

you held onto his biceps, digging your nails into his skin. he bit his lip, looking down at your pretty supple body and the way you just laid there and took it, letting him fuck you nice and good.

“‘m close, baby,” he told you, grabbing your chin and turning your head so you were looking up at him again. “where do you want me to cum?”

you were so sleepy and fucked out that you could still barely comprehend his words. you also were starting to feel your second orgasm brewing in your stomach which made it even harder to focus.

you just babbled some incoherent nonsense.

“words, honey,” he said, squeezing your thighs. “tell me where you want my cum.”

“inside,” you cried out, tightening your legs around his waist. “wanna be filled.”

“fuck,” jake hissed. “i’ll fill you up real good. i’ll make you nice and warm, yeah baby?”

“please!” you yelled. “please, i need it.”

your words sent him straight over the edge. he choked on a moan as ropes of his warm cum spilled inside of you, drenching your walls.

seeing him hit his orgasm sent you over the edge as well, and suddenly you were clenching around him, sucking him completely dry.

waves of sweat and pleasure and euphoria washed over the both of you. you swear he was sending you to another dimension where the only thing you knew was pleasure and jake’s addictive cock.

he slowly rocked his hips in and out of you, milking both of your orgasms until you were both done and spent.

by then, you were both exhausted. he slowly pulled out and collapsed next to you. the two of you laid on your backs, staring at the ceiling in shock at what you’d just done.

you went into his room with the expectation of a little bit of comfort after your awful nightmare, not to have been given two orgasms.

for a few minutes, neither of you said anything.

then, jake spoke up.

“so, did i get you to forget about your nightmare?” he asked, turning his head to the side to look at you.

at that point, you couldn’t even remember what the nightmare was about.

“i think you did,” you answered.

he pulled you into his chest and kissed the top of your head. within a few minutes, both of you were asleep in each others arms.

-

a/n long jake smut for 1k and bc im horny for him.

thank you for reading <3

[unheavenliercreatures]

you can leave my url if you want! :)

1. I want to say it was OG Avengers Movie-era MCU? Uncertain. I was like 12-13 so it's a little fuzzy. Also BBC Merlin but I'm not sure when that was re before vs after.

2. I've personally noticed a lot less experimentation with the well-known tropes, meaning, they were less defined back then than they are now. I used to come across more secondary genders than just alpha, omega, and beta (like an asexual gamma or delta gender, and so on), and I haven't seen one of those in years. (There's this one fic i absolutely adore that's an honest to god research paper on the nature of omegaverse and for me personally codified a lot of the secondary tropes--here you go: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4299357/chapters/9803262)

I also have noticed a good deal less of the "omegas as an oppressed class in society" trope, but that may just be because if I am reading an omegaverse fic these days, it's usually just pure PWP as opposed to a long form fic with the actual sex mixed in.

I've noticed that a heat has a good bit less urgency than it used to--where you used to see things like "heat centers" and such in fics (although usually it was mentioned offhand as an option for "desperate alphas/omegas who didn't have anyone to get them through it"), it seems more common now to have it be a thing one could usually get through on their own at home without too much trouble. I think it might be because of concerns re consent, but I'm not a researcher--just a reader. :)

Interestingly enough, I've noticed a lot more usage/mention of things like birth control, plan B, etc. taking away from the pregnancy/breeding aspect of the genre, although it isn't necessarily completely absent. I just haven't seen an omegaverse fic where someone is Actually Pregnant in a hot minute.

Finally, there is just straight up a lot more het sex in the genre (see: the omegaverse lawsuit), whereas in my experience back when I first started to encounter it, it was almost exclusively gay men with the occasional holy grail that is lesbian sex.

3. I've always considered myself something of a biology enthusiast, and I really liked the idea of having more than one gender--a primary and a secondary. Also, the idea of genitalia that wasn't strictly a vagina and uterus or penis and testes. Revolutionary! I won't say it helped me realize I was bigender, but there were signs, as they say.

4. Definitely science fiction that explores alternative biology. Nowadays that looks more like robotfucking, but I've been working on a TTRPG system for a while that explores alternative biology from a roleplay and mechanics standpoint.

5. Honestly? It's really interesting from an anthropological standpoint to think about what a society of omegaverse-type humans would look like and how things would change with the concept of secondary genders in play. (Would heat leave be a thing? Would omegas be discriminated in the workforce as a result? What's the whole deal with betas? etc.)

It's also great re a possessive/primal element that you can't get as much in other fic genres. (At least, not unless you're willing to sit through a dozen 5sog read-a-likes and at least two mafia AUs.) And another anthropological side note--it's interesting to see what people consider to be "primal instincts"! Is it trilling and purring and such? Is it public power plays? Fewer sexual inhibitions in a public setting (re things like mating bites)? What do you think?

Also, tbh, it's just funny! Sex is at its best when it's at least a little funny.

6. Hm. If it plays too much into real human gender stereotypes--omegas being an analogy for women, "what if men experienced a misogyny" feels kind of overdone unless we're planning to explore that. If we're actually getting into the nitty-gritty, by all means go for it! If you're just going to be having the omega in your fic experience sci-fi misogyny for two seconds right before they get fucked six ways to sunday, it's a bit of a turn off for me, personally.

If it had the characters falling too far into the "helpless waif of an omega" trope. No, actually, I don't think that Bucky Barnes would say all that shit. try again

If it seems too much like just normal sex with a trans person, I'm not, like, necessarily turned off? But it does make me go "oh, buddy. i've been there. you're going to have a realization in approximately 6-9 business months. have fun!"

Finally, if you're going to have slick smell like anything other than human bodily fluids. What do you mean by "vanilla scented slick". That sounds viscerally off-putting. Please see a doctor.

7. to the general public: most sex is cringe anyways, you might as well have fun with it.

Omegaverse readers & writers!! I want to hear from you!!!

Firstly — Yes — I have already done a lot of research. I don’t need the basics explained to me or the fact that it is an incredibly diverse genre with examples good writing, bad writing, good social commentary, bad social commentary, expansive thoughtful worldbulding, raunchy porn without plot, and everything in between.

What I’m looking for with this post is personal experiences and opinions from people who read/ write this content since I am not one. Feel free to link any fics that exemplify what you’re talking about.

you can write as much or as little as you like, answer as many or as few of the questions as you like:

What fandom introduced you to omegaverse?

What trends and developments have you noticed as the genre has grown over the past 14-ish years?

what initially intrigued you about it?

Are there similar genres, tropes, etc, that you also enjoy? (ie. werewolf or other supernatural romance, science fiction which explores alternative biology) basically, how does omegaverse fit into your wider literary tastes?

what do enjoy most about it?

what are some elements you avoid or are critical of?

Any specifics or nuances you want the non-omegaverse reading public to know about

In case anyone is coming across this post without knowing who i am — Hi! I’m a youtuber and I make videos about online subculture, fandom, and such.

Your comment on this post may be read aloud in an upcoming video!! Please specify if you would like me to censor your url or leave it visible.

[izvmimi]

cw: fluff. talk of marriage.

“Hey, when do you want to get married?”

Luffy’s simple question, asked out of the blue on a sunny and clear Sunday afternoon at the pier of the newest island you’ve washed up ashore, completely stops you in your tracks, abruptly enough that you practically stumble with interrupted momentum. He takes this in stride, stopping next to you with far more grace; his free hand, not the one that has let ice cream atop a cone drip onto his wrist, holds on to the back of your shirt just enough to keep you from hitting the ground, and helps you right yourself.

“You okay?” he asks. 

Your mouth opens and closes in surprise for a split second, but you nod quickly before buying time to respond with a bite of your waffle. Luffy waits patiently, and his expression is difficult to read even for you; there’s no typical smile on his face but he doesn’t seem upset, just patient, perhaps pensive even.

Luffy’s always oddly patient despite himself, when it comes to you. 

“I’m fine,” you say after two rapid chews and a swallow. You resume your pace, trying to keep yourself from looking at him. “What do you mean, marriage?”

Luffy isn’t following you; rather he’s planted in place, and you make it four steps before you turn to look at him, your heart beginning to thump just a little harder in your chest. The ice cream continues to drip but he doesn’t do anything about it - rather he keeps his gaze focused on you for a moment.

“You don’t want to get married?” he asks. 

The statement is said somewhere between a question and a statement and it makes your stomach turn.

Your relationship with Luffy is confusing.

You can’t deny that he cares about you, but caring is so natural to Luffy that you might as well declare that the sky is blue in the same sentence, or that Luffy plans to be the freest man in the world. 

… and therein lies the issue.

You find yourself looking around before you answer, even though no one in this bustling crowd would ever bother to interrupt your conversation, the two of you blending in as naturally as can be despite being wanted (seriously unevenly so, but both with bounties nonetheless). The notorious straw hat remains hidden on Luffy’s person, layered below a light windbreaker and you’ve long since ditched the glasses your wanted person demonstrates you wearing, the Clark Kent-Superman effect surprisingly effective. 

For now the two of you are just two lovers, on a date, that may have just turned the tiniest bit uncertain.

“I-It’s not that I don’t want to get married, I’m just surprised you do,” you finally admit. 

Luffy tilts his head for a moment. You grimace, but don’t say more, and he finally remembers that he’s a grown man with 3 scoops of ice cream balanced precariously on a cone and dripping onto the boardwalk and practically swallows the entire snack whole, before looking at you. 

His expression remains serious despite how silly he is, and a small part of you wants to laugh, but it��s drowned out by the very loud realization that Luffy seriously plans to marry you. 

“Why wouldn’t I want to?” he asks.

He takes a few bites of the remaining cone and starts walking anew. You fall into step, retracing the path of your conversation before now to see when and why he might come up with this question.

Your date started off at a buffet (which by the look on the owner’s face, he may have considered banning you, or really Luffy, from every returning); your next move was to play carnival games which Luffy was surprisingly terrible at, and desperate to cheat, stopped only by your equally desperate pleas; after that was window shopping, for candy and trinkets, and then you’d continued to walk until you passed by the ice cream seller and then-

Window shopping. You backtrack.

Your eyes had lingered too long on a towering and particularly elaborate white dress, posted proudly at the front of a bridal shop, paired with ornate, shimmering jewelry at the neckline and dangling from the mannequin’s ears. It was the type of dress that seemed completely out of place at this venue, elegant but attention-grabbing; you’d only looked for a moment, then looked away, but for a second, you considered that it was beautiful; perhaps you saw yourself in that dress for a moment, and just as quickly that thought had dissipated from your mind. A fleeting thought of marrying your captain, gone with the wind.

But here you were minutes later, and Luffy had caught on to you.

Luffy is now asking you why you are surprised he wants to get married. 

And most importantly, married to you.

“Why would you, Luffy?” you ask.

He frowns.

“I asked you first.”

Why wouldn’t he marry you?

“Luffy, isn’t your goal to be the freest man in the world?” you ask him, taking another bite of your waffle. There isn’t much left, three bites tops, and then you’ll have nothing to help you pretend this conversation isn’t tearing at the soft of your soul. 

Luffy’s cone is gone by now, and you hand him a wet wipe, from a packet you carried in your jacket pocket, which he looks at for a moment, but takes anyway to clean his hands.

“Yeah.”

He hasn’t made whatever connection you’re making, and his tone communicates that.

“But what does that have to do with marrying you?”

You bite your lower lip slightly.

“Ever heard of the old ‘ball and chain’ analogy?”

“Yeah, and it’s stupid,” he replies. You stop for a moment in your walk, and find yourself chuckling.

“What part is stupid?”

Luffy seems almost confused that you’re asking. His hands raise above his head and rest behind neck as you continue your stroll, a relaxed position.

“Don’t get married if you think the person is holding you back.”

You nod. A moment pauses then you stop again. He stops too, and glances at you.

“I don’t want to hold you back, Luffy.”

It’s a surprisingly difficult thing to say out loud, you find, a soft sigh added to the statement. There’s catharsis in the words hanging in the air, the verbalization of your tenuous entanglement with your lover first, captain second. 

“You wouldn’t be able to. I’d always want you with me. That’s why I’m asking.”

He stops again, and turns to face you, asking the question again.

“If you don’t want to-”

Too eager perhaps, you cut him off, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Yes, I do, I just…” you trail off, and he’s still frowning, and you wonder why you’re so complicated in your emotions, but he’s far more decisive than you are, and it’s what you love so much about him.

“If so, then just tell me. When do you want to get married? Or where?”

You take a deep breath, cupping your face in his hands for a moment as you settle yourself, eyes closing gently as you think.

You want to marry him. He wants to marry you. You’re not a liability, he wants you there with him.

You say it again to yourself two times over.

Centered by your feet on the ground and your palms holding the man you love, who loves you just as fervently.

“Let me think about it, Luffy,” you ask.

Your eyes open, and he’s staring at you, and is unreadable, but you tip forward and peck him on the lips to reassure him.

“I want it to be grand.”

Luffy finally smiles that smile that rivals the sun, the moon and the stars, before he kisses you again.

“Whatever you want!”

Your hands link again.

Another moment passes, and you stop once more, then whip your head around to look at him.

“Wait, Luffy, this better not be how you propose to me.”

He looks taken aback for a second, but then grins widely, letting out a laugh.

“No, it isn’t.”

His fingers interlace more tightly with yours and he laughs a little louder this time, but you can tell the laugh is partially for him more than for you.

“It’s just nice to know that you’ll definitely say yes.”

[alicexbae]

freak!chris and sweet!reader about to go to sleep because they both had a really long day but chris wants some before bed so he just slips it in and she feels generous so she lets him but tells him she's about to go to sleep anyway.

ali says: jfidjcbdidbdifbiebf YES! oml i LOVE this shit thank you so so much!!! excuse me while i go sit in the corner and drool—

ali warns: 18+ content, fem!reader, established relationship, language, cnc (somnophilia), pet names (ma, baby), horny!chris, freak!chris, filthy!chris, sleepy sex, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, chris cums quick 🤭, creampie, after cuddles!, lmk if i missed something!

ali suggests: if you’d like to read more of my content, consider checking out my masterlist! if you’ve got a thirst of your own, don’t hesitate to send it in! <3

you were just drifting off when you felt it — a nudge between your legs followed by the hot pressure of chris’s cockhead sliding against your cunt through your panties.

“chris,” you mumbled out, eyelids too heavy to even pry open. “what’r’ya doin’?”

“need’ya, ma,” chris husks back, voice thick with sleep and desperation. he humps against you, thick cock sliding over your clit and teasing a whimper out of you. “y’don’t have to do anything, baby. i’ll do it all. jus’ need you right now—”

you swallow, vision blurred and body heavy, yet you somehow manage to lift your knee and give chris better access to your cunt.

“fine, but ‘m goin’ to sleep…” you consent, earning a grateful groan from the man behind you.

with clumsy, tired hands chris slides the bridge of your panties to the side and nuzzles his cockhead between your folds, sliding it up and down a couple times before pushing into your slit.

you grimace slightly from the pressure, your cunt not at all slick, but all it takes is a few pumps of his tip to have it accumulating — and when there’s enough there for chris to slide his cock halfway in, he does and sets a fast pace.

“fuck, god, tight,” chris blathers, “such a tight pussy, mmm, hah, fuck—” his hips are meeting your ass with muted slaps, wet squelches resounding from between your legs as chris fucks you open.

it feels good, so good, his cock shoving itself deeper as your pussy starts to drool around him, hitting all your sweet spots and pulling half-tired whines from your throat. your body is heating up, gut stirring in response to the stimulation.

“goooood, ‘m gon’a bust,” chris drones, burying his face in your neck and mouthing wetly at the flesh as he fucks faster. “gon’a bust in your pussy, baby,”

“please,” you whine out, walls fluttering around his pumping cock. you don’t too much care about coming yourself, too tired to even want it — but the thought of chris’s hot seed painting your walls has you trembling.

“fuck, hah — ma, it’s comin’ — shit, fuck, i’m coming—”

chris fucks into you at a savage pace, groans and grunts forced into your neck, only slightly muted, cockhead bruising your cervix over and over and over — until he shoves in deep and his hips still, ropes of cum shooting from his cock and splattering against your walls.

chris nearly whines as his cock twitches and throbs inside you, hips pumping shallowly as he milks himself with your pussy, thick cock fucking wet fluid from your folds.

it only takes about thirty seconds for chris to ride out his orgasm, hips stilling completely and relaxing behind you as the last few droplets of cum spill against your walls.

“fuuuck, ma, so good,” chris whispers, breathy and fucked out, one arm sliding over your ribcage to pull you flush against him. chris slides a thigh between yours to nudge your legs open, resting it there as his dick slowly softens inside you.

“g’night, baby. i love you,” he mumbles, and you’ve barely uttered back your own sentiment before he’s snoring softly into the cradle of your hair.

taglist (send an ask if you’d like to be added!) — @emely9274

[bibioi]

looking!

[blue lock], sae itoshi.

— he just seems like a pretty crier.

contains: nsfw + gender neutral + 2nd pov + sub character + dacryphilia + orgasm denial.

i don't ever think i'll write a full smut, just doesn't feel right.

in contrary to his behavior, sae doesn't like to be a brat to you. i'm not saying he isn't one, it just sometimes slips out. he'll say what's on his mind without a second to waste, but you're so patient and so understanding with him.

it surprising him that you're still around, not that he's complaining. the worst he can get as punishment from you is silence.

but those rare times when he's on his best (read: better than usual) behavior, he gets to ask for anything.

he looked up at you through his lashes, a brow raised as if he was daring you to do something. his chest moved up and down harder as he squirmed around in his sweats, the bulge an obvious sign of what he wants.

he knows you want him to say it. he nearly rolled his eyes, no way.

your fingers tease him by running down his body, feathering over his nipples and tracing the imprint in his pants.

"stop it." he glares at your hands, his hips bucking up in the air.

as if. sae thinks if you stop, he'll go crazy.

you smile, cooing upon seeing his blown opened pupils, you could barely even see the beautiful teal color of them. his eyes widen when you palm him through his sweats, his body going red from the impact. "look at you, you don't want me to stop-"

you push his shirt past his chest and he quickly gets the hint to hold it up for you, wrinkling the hem so tightly within his hold.

his pathetic attempt to shut down this allegation quickly died down when his eyes meet yours. the look you're giving him makes him shudder with pleasure.

like you adore him.

you look so pretty kneeling in between his knees, his pants sporting a bigger pool of his precum as he twitches in them.

"-right?" you mumbled with a tilt of your head.

he lets go of his shirt and runs his shaky hands down his stomach, no longer being able to stand this teasing. a groan is ripped out of his throat as you lightly grip onto his wrist and pull them away, pining them down on either side of his body.

you release his wrist and give him a pointed stare. "keep still, sweetheart."

he could really only focus on your eyes. those pretty, gentle eyes of yours — looking at him like he's a god, someone to worship. he practically melts when your warm hand runs up his inner thigh to his hips, purposely avoiding his bulge.

you pull the band of his sweatpants back before watching them snap back in place. he jolts, timidly bucking into his pants and, in his way, your shirt, adding onto his desperation.

you lean down to press wet, open-mouthed kisses down his abs. his leg tenses and twitches, hands trembling so much he has to ball them up so you don't notice (a little too late honestly), "i promise i'll make you feel so good."

oh god, how he wants wants to be good. just for tonight, only for you, just you.

so, he puts down his pride for just a couple of worthless seconds and swallows nervously.

"touch me," he whispers, blood rushing down his neck. "p...please."

"what's that?" you hum. sae grits his teeth, you know exacly what he's talking about. you're not dumb and surely, as far as he's aware, not deaf.

but he doesn't want to loose this.

a shiver runs down his spine, "please touch me all over."

a trembling hand of his reaches down to lightly graze his boner, jumping at the contact. "here [name], please."

he ignores the grin on your face and opts to place his hand back in place beside of him, taking ahold of the thin sheet underneath him.

he won.

he wasn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't this — his body stiffening and shaking like a leaf by your touch as you force him to at least try to stay still.

you were denying him his right to come.

"look at me" you grip his jaw in your hand. he's almost tempted to gasp in shock, "don't take your eyes off of me."

you remove your hand and return it back to his chest, which is heaving rapidly, up and down, his breathing out of his control. while he isn't loud, his body says all he can't say. filthy things he would never vocalize.

"don't you like me sae?" he gives a weak nod, his tongue peaking out to lick and nip at his lips. you're sure he mumbled something along the lines 'love you s'much' but his rambling became incoherent at this point.

his eye lids flutter shut.

"look at me or i'll stop." you nearly prove your threat when he takes a second too long to respond. your hold on him slowly loosening, until sae quickly recovered to meet your eye.

"hnn, i'm looking!" he grunts out in a whiny tone, drawn out and breathy moans escaling him. "looking, looking!!"

"[name]-" he tried calling out, except it came out as a broken, and barely audible whine. he tried again but got the same result as the last. his head was lolling to the side, fingers gripping the sheets with all his might.

you let this slide for the moment.

"[na-], [name]!" he panted out, his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head as his eyelids close shut. white blinded his vision, it's as if he's going blind!

he hears a laugh from you. you're so close yet you sound so far away. you click your tongue softly, "aw, you can't even say my name properly!"

his body convulses with pleasure and it worries you a bit when you spot his knuckles turning white from his grip on the sheet. his veins were practically popping out!

"want me to slow down?" you muttered softly, tracing your name on his skin, as if marking him. the thought only spurred him on.

"uh-huh.." he fights back weakly, his hips twitching, faster and deeper into your warm hand contradict his argument.

you smile at his cute antics and take his hand within your grasp. it's warm and clammy and you don't care when he starts gripping on it like its his lifeline.

"my pretty boy," sae mewls, his baby bangs are sweaty and stuck to his forehead. he couldn't hold back his whine when you flick your wrist, thumbing his leaking slit.

he's gonna cum.

he sniffles, eyes staring into yours with a shy look. he's gonna cry...

cry, cry, cry.

you prayed, squeezing your thighs together as his eyes water.

don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

"it's okay," sae lets out a heavy breath of air, it almost sounds like a sob. "let it out."

sae begged with himself, unfortuantly, once he starts crying, he won't be able to stop.

his lips threaten to tremble.

he thinks you're talking about his need to come. but when he takes notice of the small crazed glint in your eye, his own practically ended up having heart shapes in his.

he loves it.

before he realized, tears had leaked out from his eyes and his flushed face. a sob tumbling past his red and swollen lips as you reach down to touch yourself over your clothes at the sight. he's crying!

"so pretty," you slur out, quickening your pace around him. "love seeing you like this."

sae's shoulders quiver as he curls into himself, a series of 'ah, ahn, nngh's following. his hips loosing their fast paced rythm and weakly bucking up as he decides to let you do the rest of the work.

he twists and turns, chest heaving and stuttering as silent cries leave him. he's having trouble breathing -

he's gonna die, gonna die.

it feels so good that he's going to die.

just as he was on the verge of orgasm you pull away, hand going back on him only to give him a light pat on the head as if he was your dog.

huh?

this causes his breath to quicken, anger and desperation being thrown in the mix of his frustrated sobs.

his heart drops when you stand up to get ready for his aftercare. you still look down at his shaking figure with adoration, but the difference now is that he's staring up at your looming figure as if you were the god now. his only religion.

"should've kept your eyes on me."

...

bib. 😛

[wildflowerhuggy]

Bleed // LN4

| pairing: lando norris x reader

| summary: based on the song Bleed by The Kid Laroi, i suggest listening to it while reading

| warnings: angst, followed by comfort

| authors note: was listening to this song today and kept imaging Lando for some reason

The rain outside seemed to be a mirror of the storm occurring in both your mind and chest. You were sat, curled up into a little ball, at the edge of the bed, the room in complete silence other than your soft sobs and the rain hitting your window.

Lando had never meant to hurt you, he didn't and you knew that, but that didn't mean it wasn't happening. Lately, it felt as though you were slipping through the cracks of his chaotic life like sand slipping through your fingers at the beach. Missed texts, cancelled plans, hurried goodbyes—it was all building up and you had reached the point where you could no longer hold it in.

Yesterday you had a fight, well, more like you had just finally broken down in front of him. Showing him all of the emotions you had been bottling up for weeks.

"I can't keep doing this, Lando! You're always so far away, not just physically but emotionally too! I know you're career is demanding, I understand but..." you paused trying to catch your breath, "am I even a priority anymore?"

He had tried to explain, reassure you that you were a priority, that he loved you more than anything in life, but the words fell flat. And now he wasn't here, leaving, saying he needed to get some space and clear his head.

Now here you were, staring at your phone, waiting for some sign of life. The bed you shared feeling unbearably large and empty without him in it. You turned around, staring at where your pillows lay and where you and Lando would typically be found cuddling and whispering sweet nothings to each other, only to be met with a haunting feeling that he may never return. His absence is what hurt you the most, his scent lingering in the room, a cruel reminder of the love you were desperate to hold on to and the ghost of his presence surrounding your senses.

A choked sob worked its way up your throat, and you buried your head into your hands, the weight of it all sitting heavy on your chest. You loved Lando with everything you had, but it began feeling like you were fighting a losing battle—one where you were the only one fighting.

It had been over 24 hours since he left at this point, and you couldn't stop your brain from imagining the worst. Was he somewhere else? Talking to someone who made him feel more than you ever could? Had his heart mended easily, going back to who he was before you, while you were sat in your shared bed, bleeding for his love? The poisonous thoughts were consuming your entire being.

You sniffled, pulling your legs tighter to your chest. You wanted to hate him for leaving, for making you feel this way, you really did, but you simply couldn't. The love you had for him was too strong, and all you wanted was for him to come back and hold you in his arms.

Just as you were about to give up on him coming back tonight, you heard the sound of the front door unlocking, the sharp click of the deadbolt disturbing the otherwise silent apartment. You felt your heart leap into your throat as you heard the soft sound of Lando's footsteps approaching your bedroom.

"Baby?" Lando's voice broke through the darkness, soft and cautious.

You didn't respond, too afraid your voice would betray you and give way to your inner turmoil. But as the bedroom door was slowly pushed open, his figure silhouetted by the hallway light, you felt a whole new wave of tears begin.

He looked wrecked, his hair damp and hoodie clinging to his frame from the rain. There was a defeated slump in his shoulders and his eyes were rimmed red and bloodshot. He stepped further into the room, eyes frantically finding yours.

"I'm sorry—fuck I'm so sorry," his voice cracked with unshed tears, "I shouldn't have left like that. I—oh God, I’ve been such an idiot."

You shook your head, wiping at your cheeks with the sleeve of your sweater, "You don't get to just walk away like that Lando. I needed you and I was worried sick."

"I know," he said quickly, words tumbling out. "I know I let you down. I've been thinking about it the whole time I was gone. I've been letting you down for weeks, months, even. And you're right, I haven't been here for you the way I should've been."

He ran a hand through his curls, a nervous tick of his, exhaling shakily, "I love you. More than anything. And I know I've been absolute shit at showing it, but I need you to know that. I can't lose you, I never want to lose you."

You stared at him, emotions at war inside of you. His words were what you needed to hear, but they couldn't erase the hurt that he caused.

"Do you mean it?" you asked quietly, your voice trembling, "Because I don't know if I can keep doing this if things don't change. So you better mean it, Lando."

His expression softened, and he stepped closer to kneel in front of you, "I mean it," he reached for you hands to hold in his, "I'll do whatever it takes to make this right and prove that you are a priority. No more missed calls or texts, no more cancelled plans or rushed goodbyes. I'm here. With you. Always."

You searched his face, looking to see if you could spot any insincerity in his words, but all you could see was raw, heartfelt emotion. His much larger hands squeezed yours in comfort, grounding you.

"Okay," you whispered, voice cracking with the emotion you still held, "But if you ever leave me like that again Lando Norris..."

"I won't," he interrupts firmly, as if the mere idea pains him, "Never again, I swear."

For the first time in days, you felt hope. Lando quickly pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against him, as if he was afraid that if he didn't squeeze you tight enough you would slip away. You clung to him just as tightly though, the storm that was brewing inside of you beginning to quiet.

Lando's hold on you remained steady as the rain continued to fall, whispering more apologies and promises to be better into your hair as you snuggled in bed. He vowed to be the partner you deserved, someone worthy of you, and you believed him for the first time in a long time.

[froggiewrites]

i do not want, i NEED katakuri size difference kink with reader

I'm so glad you requested this, because I needed to write it just as badly as you need to read it! I love Katakuri, he absolutely enraptured me when I watched WCI. I really hope you enjoy!!

A Sizeable Difference

Pairing: Katakuri x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You're very aware of how much bigger your Commander is than you. You're desperate to experience that difference firsthand. Warnings: Smut, AFAB!Reader, Size Kink, Guided Masturbation, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex Word Count: 2.5k

You need your Commander more than anything.

You’ve admired him for months, watching as he crushes what he needs to, never cruelly, but with the decisiveness expected of someone in his position. You’ve watched as he’s won every battle, effortlessly led his men, and stayed unshakably loyal to his family, not faltering for a moment. You’ve never admired a man more.

The crush started on that innocent basis.

But then you noticed just how big he was.

You had known from the start, of course. You have eyes. But to understand something academically and to truly understand it were two different things. It only began to click just how massive he was when you stood side by side with him after having proved yourself a capable fighter, and for just a single moment, he placed a hand on your shoulder.

He could pick you up with just that one hand.

From that moment on you just couldn’t help but notice the difference in size between you two, how it affected the way you interacted with the world. How strong and stable it made him seem. How big every part of him was.

In your weaker moments, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was…proportional.

You needed to get closer to him. Needed to know if there was any chance he felt the same way you did, if there was any way you enraptured him as he did you.

In all of your wildest dreams, you had never imagined this. Sitting at the end of his bed as he stands before you, eyes appreciatively taking in your figure. The discussion on whether or not you could handle him was short, as you insisted that you absolutely could, and he seemed willing to try.

“Undress yourself.”

You undress instantly, accustomed to following his orders. He removes his vest, a small show of vulnerability, but his scarf and pants stay noticeably on.

“Touch yourself.” His voice rings through the room, sending a shiver up your spine as you curl in on yourself a bit. His eyes are piercing, tearing through your flimsy defenses and laying you bare beneath his gaze in every sense of the word. You cannot help but avoid looking straight at him.

You slowly inch your fingers down to your entrance, where you’re dripping with need just from the sound of his voice. You want to please him, want to prove to him you’re worth this effort, worth his attention, but you can feel his gaze tearing through you and you can’t help your fingers pausing just before they make it to their destination. Your breathing has quickened, your shoulders tense, as you try to force yourself through the moment.

“Calm down, sweet thing,” he murmurs, his voice softer than you thought possible. “This isn’t a performance. I just need to make sure you can take it.”

You try to calm your breathing, but he’s so beautiful and powerful and strong and you cannot help but feel like you’re letting him down.

“Hey.” You feel a large finger on your chin, tipping your head up, and you finally look him in the eyes. Instead of his usual guarded gaze, you see nothing but care, concern, and desire in them. “This is for your own comfort and safety. If it’s too much for you, then it won’t happen. You don’t need to pressure yourself.”

You take a deep breath. Katakuri is being gentle with you, kind in a way you didn’t think you deserved. You want more than anything to please him. You force the words out. “But I want this. Want you.”

The corner of his eyes crinkle as he gives what you think is a small smile from behind his scarf. His voice is calm and reassuring, though no less commanding. “Then continue.”

You insert your finger slowly, testing the waters, before adding another, slowly stretching yourself out for him. Your other hand traces down from your collarbone to your chest, rolling your nipples between your fingertips and making you bite your lip. A moan rumbles through his chest as he watches you. Your eyes drift down to his shorts, and you can see exactly how much you’re affecting him. He’s huge, and you imagine what he’ll feel like inside of you. He’ll threaten to tear you in two, his hands engulfing you as his hips meet yours, and you’ll thank him for whatever comes next, whether it be pleasure or pain. 

Your next finger slides in easily, your wetness audible as you continue to piston your fingers in and out of your cunt.

“Good work,” Katakuri rumbles, leaning forward to get a better look at you. “God, look at you.”

You preen under his praise, forcing your way past your hesitation and embarrassment to spread your thighs wider for him to show off. He groans quietly, palming his bulge through his pants. You scissor your fingers, showing off how wet you are, and you finally get a taste of what you want as he reaches out a hand to you.

“Take a deep breath.” He gently pulls your hand away, the size of his dwarfing yours, before you gasp at the feeling of something large and blunt pressing against your entrance, stretching you even further than you were before.

You look down to see it’s only one finger.

“Good,” he coos. He slowly begins to slide his way in, reveling in your tightness around his digit. For a moment he’s satisfied with just this, just your pleasure and the honor of participating in it, but then you clench around him, moaning his name as you lean forward and dig your nails into his wrist, and he knows that come hell or high water he will be inside of you tonight. Once he bottoms out, he checks in on you again, finding your face flushed, your eyes wet with tears. “Do you need a moment?”

“No. Move, please.”

He could never deny you.

He starts slow, pulling inch by tortuous inch of his finger out of you, feeling the way your body fights to hold him in, before letting you suck him back in. You cry out again, a noise of pure ecstasy that makes him want to pin you down and pound into you until you can no longer speak or think anything other than his name. But Katakuri is nothing if not a controlled man, and he would not put his own wants above your comfort, not now, not ever. 

“Katauri,” you whine pathetically. “Why am I the only one undressed?” You look up at him pleadingly, desperate for just a glimpse of the treat he’s hiding away from you, and he can’t help but give in. He doesn’t stop his movements as he slowly reaches down and unbuttons his pants, deftly undoing his various belts and buckles while still granting you the fullness you’re so desperate for. It only takes him a moment to free himself, and you’re awestruck by his beauty: his cock is massive and dripping with precum, and you know for certain it will not fit inside you.

That will not stop you from trying.

His hand hesitates at his scarf, and you see uncharacteristic anxiety in his eyes for just a single moment. Once he makes eye contact with you, it’s quickly replaced by determination as he removes it in one swift motion.

His scarf falls, and you finally see him in his full beauty. You see his teeth, and for a moment you imagine them wrapping around your neck, or pressing against your thighs as his tongue explores you. You hear him suppress a moan as you clench around his finger at the thought.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmur, almost involuntarily. The words make their way out before you even process you’ve opened your mouth.

He doesn’t say anything in response. Instead he takes a deep, steadying breath before inserting a second finger into you. You’re stretched to the brim, breaths coming in small pants as you struggle to accommodate him. A bead of sweat falls down your forehead, and you can see his eyes follow its path from your face down your neck, between your breasts, and further down still. His words come out unsteady. “Do–do you–”

“Don’t you dare stop,” you hiss, hips jerking to force him in deeper. “If I can’t handle it I will tell you.”

He smiles, teeth bared. “Of course.”

The delightful stretch continues, pushing your body to its limit as you find your thighs spread wider than you thought physically possible. He scissors his fingers, testing you, and you can see the relief on his face when your response is one of pleasure and not pain. His unoccupied hand reaches down for his cock, pumping it lightly, and you can feel your mouth water at the sight.

“Need more,” you whine, purposefully clenching around his fingers. You can see his grip on himself tighten as he looks at you, spread and ready, wanton and waiting. “I can handle it, please. Let me prove it.”

He gives a shuttering breath as he slowly pulls his fingers from you and finds them absolutely dripping. You watch with rapt attention as he slowly pulls them to his face and opens his mouth, his wet tongue shooting out to wrap around them. He groans at the taste as he thoroughly cleans every inch of his fingers, ensuring not a single drop of you goes to waste. “Delicious,” he murmurs quietly, his eyes a little unfocused as he briefly loses himself in his euphoria. 

The sound of you shifting brings him back to himself, and you can’t help the excited grin you give him as he reaches a hand down to line himself up. His other hand wraps around your midsection, the weight comforting as he gently but firmly holds you in place. You couldn’t move an inch if he really wanted you to hold you there, and the thought makes you wetter still.

“Are you ready?” His voice is deeper than before, and you wonder if perhaps his desire for you has caused his usually unshakable will to start to crumble.

“Please,” you whimper, your voice pathetic and needy.

He goes slow, his tip pushing against your entrance and struggling to fit. He presses gently, but insistently, as you close your eyes and take a deep breath, doing everything in your power to relax. “You’re doing great,” he whispers. “Just a little more.”

You can feel as it finally slips inside, your breath catching at the sensation. He doesn’t move for a moment, allowing you to adjust, and instead of whining like earlier you gratefully take it. It doesn’t hurt, not quite, but you’re at the precipice between pleasure and pain and a sudden movement could easily push you over the edge.

“Great work. Just like that.” After a breath, he presses his hand a bit harder on your stomach, steadying both of you, before he slides in just an inch more. “Yes, just like that, sweet thing.”

Another inch.

Another.

And another.

He whispers quiet praise for you, leaning down to kiss your forehead as he continues to stretch you. You don’t know when you started crying, overwhelmed by the sensation of it all, but he gently hushes you as he continues moving. Neither of you want him to stop, too ready to experience this in its entirety, too afraid stopping will ruin your momentum and prove without a doubt you cannot handle him.

You will handle him.

“Just a little more,” he mutters. “Almost there.”

You feel as though you’re going to burst, but you take a deep breath, forcing yourself to relax further, and to your surprise you can feel his hips against yours.

“I did it,” you babble breathlessly.

“You did.” He lifts his hand to see the bulge in your belly as you accommodate him. He’s nearly drooling at the sight of you so small beneath him, your pretty lips open wide as you pant out his name. Your cheeks are flushed, your hair stuck to your face by the sweat, your eyes unfocused as you enjoy the feeling of him splitting you in two. You’ve never looked more beautiful.

He pulls back torturously slow, sliding back in with caution. The second thrust is a little faster, and the third a little faster than that.

He is by no means pounding you into the ground, unwilling to test your limits so far on the first try, but his pace is steady and strong as he leans over you, desperately holding himself back from slamming into your hips so hard they may shatter.

“Katakuri!” Your breasts bounce with every thrust, your tongue hanging from your mouth as you try to catch your breath. You try to say something, anything, but the only thing that leaves your mouth is his name, again and again and again. You’ve never felt this full before in your life, the feeling as wonderful as it is overwhelming. Part of you wants to kick him away to catch your breath and ground yourself, but the rest wants him to pump you so full you’re dripping with him for days.

You can feel the tension spread through your body, your cunt grasping tighter around him, as he continues to rut into you without a moment’s pause.

“You’re going to cum,” he pants. It isn’t dirty talk or a prediction; he says it as though it is simple fact. His next words are a command. “Do it. For me.”

How could you deny a direct command?

You come unraveled in an instant, your body trying in vain to pull him even deeper as you cum. He tries to keep his pace steady, to help you ride through your pleasure, but you can feel his hips stutter as he reaches his own peak at the feeling of yours. He presses his forehead to the sheets, your entire body covered by his midriff as he tries to catch his breath.

You bask in the feeling of safety underneath him, the feeling of fullness as he continues to stretch you as far as you can go, before he comes back to himself and slowly begins to pull out. The moment his cock leaves you, cum drips onto the mattress, staining the sheets, and you pout as he pulls away from you, leaving you cold and exposed.

“I’ll run you a bath.”

“Can’t you stay a moment?”

“I think we’ve neglected your wellbeing enough today.”

You want to argue, but the moment you try to sit up, you hiss, and you know you’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow. You instead watch silently as he redresses, hiding his beautiful face from the world. You almost expect him to leave without a word, readorn the mask he wears outside of this room, but at the last moment he turns back to you, eyes fond. His hand gently pets your head, his touch so kind it makes your chest hurt.

“I’ll be right back,” he promises. You trust that he will.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @saturogojosgirl @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay

[lizzieolseniskinda]

RAFE CAMERON - you're perfect

x FEM!reader

SUMMARY: based on this request

WORD COUNT: 4473

GENRE: angst

CONTENT WARNING: talks of insecurity, if this is too triggering please do not read, my dms are always open

the bass of the music thudded through the house, reverberating in your chest as you stepped through the packed crowd. you had come with your friends—kie, jj, john b, sarah, and pope—but it didn’t take long for everyone to scatter. parties were always like that, a chaotic mess of faces and fleeting conversations.

you weren’t here for the party, though. you were here for rafe.

he’d mentioned he’d be around tonight, and despite your better judgment, you couldn’t help but want to see him. you hadn’t texted him yet—part of you wanted the thrill of stumbling upon him, a magnetic pull drawing you closer until you found him.

jj was somewhere near the beer pong table, obnoxiously yelling about sinking a cup. sarah and john b had disappeared upstairs, and you’d last seen kie and pope heading toward the kitchen. so now, it was just you, weaving through the maze of bodies.

as you made your way toward the back of the house, you heard a voice from around the corner.

“she’s so desperate, though,” one girl said, laughing.

your footsteps faltered.

“i mean, come on. you’d think she’d have some self-respect,” another chimed in. “following rafe cameron around like a lost puppy? it’s pathetic.”

“rafe doesn’t even like y/n. he’s just playing with her. you know how he is.”

“did you even see her? as if anyone would go for a girl like that,” one of them spoke up, causing a few girls to snicker.

your stomach twisted, an icy rush spilling down your spine. you stayed behind the wall, frozen, unable to move. they couldn’t see you, but you could see them—three girls in skimpy dresses, plastic cups in hand, giggling like their words weren’t slicing through you.

your first instinct was to roll your eyes. they didn’t know you, didn’t know anything about you and rafe. you were sure of that. but their words stuck, digging deeper than you’d like to admit.

you blamed the alcohol. that’s what it was. you’d had a couple of drinks, and now everything felt amplified. it wasn’t like their petty gossip meant anything. right?

shaking off the unease, you turned away and kept moving. you weren’t going to let them ruin your night.

the heat from the bonfire stung your skin as you went outside , the flickering orange light casting long shadows on the backyard. rafe was still standing there with topper and kelce, laughing over something that was probably way less funny than they thought it was. a few other people were hanging around the fire, drinking and chatting in their own little world.

as you neared them, you caught sight of two girls standing just a little too close to rafe. one of them was leaning in, a flirtatious laugh escaping her lips as her hand brushed against his arm. she was dressed in a tiny, skin-tight dress, her hair styled to perfection, her eyes fixed on rafe as though the entire world was invisible to her.

you didn’t mean to stare. really, you didn’t. but your feet felt like lead, and your heart began to race in your chest.

rafe was looking at the girl, but it wasn’t the way she was looking at him. his face was a mask of indifference, a slight smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes didn’t linger on her. He didn’t flirt back. he didn’t lean in. he was just there, as if waiting for the interaction to pass.

still, the moment felt suffocating. your chest tightened, a sick feeling spreading through your stomach. you tried to breathe through it, but every breath felt shallow. the alcohol in your veins wasn’t helping, either. it was supposed to loosen you up, to keep you confident, but right now, it just felt like a weight pressing down on you.

you couldn’t tear your eyes away from them—the girl, smiling too wide, touching his arm as if she had some claim on him, and rafe, standing still like a piece of furniture, polite but distant.

what am i doing here?

you swallowed, the bile rising in your throat. yout hands clenched at your sides as you willed yourself not to cry. not now, not in front of everyone, especially not in front of him.

the girl laughed again, leaning in a little closer, and the world around you started to blur. you blinked hard, trying to steady your thoughts. focus. you’re fine. you’re okay.

but you didn’t feel okay. you didn’t feel fine at all. the girl’s flirtation, the way she was trying so hard to get rafe’s attention, felt like a punch to the gut. it wasn’t the way he was looking at her—it was the way it made you feel. like you didn’t belong here, like maybe you weren’t the one he cared about at all.

as much as you hated yourself for it, you felt small. invisible. disposable.

you could hear laughter in the distance, people shouting across the yard, music thumping from inside the house. but all you could hear was the rapid beating of your own heart in your ears. the world around you felt too big, too loud, and you didn’t want to be part of it anymore.

you turned away without even realizing you’d made the decision, your mind already made up.

it wasn’t like you wanted to leave, but you didn’t want to be here. not anymore. not while that girl was touching him. not while you felt like a stranger in your own skin.

you didn’t want to cry. you couldn’t let anyone see you break.

so you walked away, quick, almost a blur of movement, dodging between bodies, weaving through groups of people. you kept your head down, ignored the music that pounded in your chest, and just focused on getting to the front door.

when you pushed through it and stepped into the cool night air, the tears you were holding back finally spilled over. you didn’t let out a sob or anything loud. you just blinked quickly, wiping your face as the tears soaked your cheeks.

you just needed to get home.

you don’t know exactly how you managed to make it to your car. you just did, a mixture of emotion, alcohol, and numbness driving your every step.

the keys felt slippery in your hand as you fumbled to unlock the door. you wanted to tell yourself you were being ridiculous, that none of this mattered, that rafe wasn’t even interested in those girls—but the truth was, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t enough.

you slid into the front seat and slammed the door behind you, sinking into the leather. you stared at the steering wheel for a long moment, the soft thrum of your heartbeat the only sound you could hear.

no matter how hard you tried to push it away, the sick feeling in your stomach wouldn’t fade.

the drive home was a blur. you gripped the steering wheel. the streetlights flickered by in a haze of orange and yellow, but you hardly noticed. every thought in your head felt like a tangled mess, too many voices fighting for attention, none of them kind.

what did you think was going to happen? he doesn’t care about you like that. they’re everything you’re not.

you swallowed hard, trying to push the thoughts away. the cool night air through the cracked window was supposed to help, but it didn’t. nothing helped. the pit in your stomach only seemed to grow deeper with each passing mile.

you pulled into the driveway, the headlights casting long shadows across the yard, the house looming in front of you. it was too quiet, too still. your parents were never home on nights like this. always out, always too busy with their own lives.

you didn’t mind the silence. usually, it was your refuge, a place where you could think, breathe. but tonight, it felt suffocating.

you grabbed your bag from the passenger seat and stepped out of the car, your legs feeling like they were made of lead. your feet moved automatically, leading you toward the front door. the house was dark, silent. no comforting voices, no footsteps echoing through the halls. it was just you.

you dragged yourself up the stairs, the house creaking underfoot as you made your way to your room. you closed the door softly behind you, locking it for good measure, just in case.

the room felt cold, sterile, as though the four walls were closing in around you. you let your bag fall to the floor, kicking off your shoes as you went straight to the bed, sinking into the plush mattress. you needed a moment, just to breathe, to think.

but thinking made everything worse.

you squeezed your eyes shut, clutching the blankets tight in your fists. you’re fine. you’re okay. you repeated the mantra to yourself, trying to remind yourself of the strength you had built over the past few years.

you weren’t that girl anymore. the one who let herself get trampled on. the one who let someone crush her confidence, making her feel small, insignificant. that was the girl your ex had torn apart—leaving you with nothing but self-doubt and confusion. but you had rebuilt yourself. you’d found your strength again, slowly and painfully.

but now? now, it felt like it had all come undone in a single night.

the thoughts kept spiraling, gaining speed. the image of rafe with that girl, her hand brushing his arm, her laugh like nails on a chalkboard. it wasn’t just her, though. it was the way rafe didn’t seem to care about her at all, but it made you wonder—does he care about me like that?

you took a deep breath, but it only made things worse. the tightness in your chest returned, squeezing harder this time. your breathing became shallow.

no, no, no… don’t do this now.

but it was too late. the panic had already begun to set in. the tightness in your chest, the dizziness in your head—it all collided in a wave of panic that left you gasping for air.

you gasped again, but it didn’t feel like enough. you couldn’t breathe. you couldn’t get a single breath deep enough to steady the wild pounding of your heart. it was like your whole body was rebelling against you, refusing to let you be calm.

you slid further down into the bed, curling into yourself, your knees pulled to your chest as you pressed your hands against your face, trying to hold it all in. you could feel your heartbeat in your throat, your chest, your fingertips. every pulse felt louder, faster, as though the world was closing in, and you couldn’t escape it.

it felt like you were suffocating. like everything you had worked so hard for had been ripped away in an instant. the confidence you’d spent the last three years building up—piece by piece—after your ex had destroyed it… it felt like it was slipping through your fingers.

the anger, the hurt—it wasn’t just about rafe. it was everything. you had fought so hard to be strong, to never feel the way you did back then, but here you were again. vulnerable. weak.

your chest heaved as you tried to calm yourself down, your body trembling with the effort. you squeezed your eyes shut tighter, trying to force the tears away, but they came anyway, hot and fast, stinging your skin.

why does it hurt so much?

you buried your face in the pillow, muffling the soft sobs that shook your body. you didn’t want to be seen. you didn’t want anyone to know how badly you were falling apart inside. you couldn’t even understand why it hurt so much, but it did.

the clock on the nightstand ticked steadily, but you couldn’t stop the overwhelming weight in your chest. your panic attack felt like a slow-motion car crash, like there was nothing you could do to stop the destruction. you were losing yourself again, losing the strength that had been so hard-won.

it’s just a party. it doesn’t mean anything. he’s not like that.

but even as you told yourself those things, the tears kept coming.

the next few days felt like a blur. each morning, you woke up with that same pit in your stomach, the same weight pressing on your chest. everything felt heavy, even your thoughts. you couldn’t stop replaying that night in your head—the words from the girls at the party, the sight of rafe talking to that other girl. it felt like the world was closing in on you, like you were drowning in things you couldn’t control.

each class was a blur of noise and movement that barely registered. you kept your head down, focused on the words in front of you, even though they didn’t make sense. every now and then, your mind wandered back to the party—the way you’d left without a word, the way your thoughts had spiraled into something ugly and self-doubting.

and now, rafe was everywhere.

at school, you kept your distance from him. you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him, not without that feeling creeping up again, making your heart race. every time rafe tried to talk to you, you found an excuse to slip away.

one morning, you were heading to your locker, trying to focus on getting through the day. and then you felt his presence behind you, just a little too close. you could tell he was about to say something, his voice barely above a whisper, but before he could even open his mouth, you cut him off.

“i can’t right now,” you muttered, barely glancing back at him. you didn’t give him a chance to respond, walking quickly down the hallway, your heart hammering in your chest.

the next time, it was in the cafeteria. you were sitting with kie, jj, pope, and sarah, trying to pretend everything was fine, trying to ignore the emptiness that followed you everywhere. rafe slid into the seat next to you, his hand almost brushing against yours as he leaned in.

“hey,” he said softly, his voice filled with that warmth you once loved, the one that made everything feel okay. “can we talk for a sec?”

you couldn’t breathe. it felt like the walls were closing in on you. you forced a smile, a fake one, and gave a quick glance to kiara. “i need to go to kie,” you said, standing up abruptly. you didn’t even wait for him to respond as you walked away, not sparing him another glance.

it wasn’t that you didn’t care. you did, more than you’d like to admit. but it was easier to keep him at arm's length. easier to shut him out before you had to face the things you were feeling—the doubts, the insecurities that had risen to the surface after that night.

you couldn’t handle being vulnerable right now. not with him.

but rafe wasn’t backing down. every time he saw you, his expression shifted from casual indifference to something else—something you couldn’t quite place. he’d give you a small smile, almost like he was trying to reassure you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to respond in kind. you weren’t ready to talk.

and then came today. the tension was unbearable. rafe’s presence was suffocating, and you were so, so tired of pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.

you were walking down the hallway after fifth period, deep in thought, trying to figure out how to survive the rest of the day when you felt someone grab your arm. you froze, spinning to face him.

“hey,” rafe said, his voice steady but with an edge of concern you couldn’t ignore. “can we talk, again?”

you pulled your arm back, forcing a smile that felt unnatural on your face. “i really can’t right now, rafe,” you said quickly, looking anywhere but at him. “i need to go meet kie for lunch.”

you could hear the frustration in his voice, even though he tried to hide it. “come on, stop avoiding me. what’s going on?”

you swallowed hard, your chest tight. the last thing you wanted was to unravel in front of him. the last thing you needed was to let the tears you’d been holding back slip out.

“i’m fine,” you said, voice clipped, stepping back. “really. i just… i need some space.”

rafe’s brows furrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line. he wanted to say something, but you didn’t give him the chance. you turned on your heel and walked away, your heart pounding in your chest.

the rest of the day passed in a blur, but somehow, you knew this moment was inevitable. rafe wasn’t going to let you keep shutting him out forever. he couldn’t. and you couldn’t keep avoiding the truth.

when the final bell rang and you were making your way to the parking lot, you saw him again. this time, there was no dodging him. he was standing in front of your car, waiting. his arms were crossed, and the look on his face was more serious than you’d ever seen it.

you stopped, heart racing. your stomach flipped. there was no escaping this now.

“rafe,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper, “please, not now.”

he shook his head. “no, this is getting ridiculous. you’ve been pushing me away all week. what’s going on? what did i do?”

you took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you. just say it. your mouth was dry, but you forced the words out.

“i think we need to break up.”

rafe’s eyes widened, confusion flashing across his face. “what? what do you mean? why? is it something i—”

you cut him off before he could finish. “it’s not you, rafe. it’s me.” the words were like a punch to your own gut as they left your mouth. you could see his jaw tighten, his brows furrowing as he tried to understand.

his face fell, his expression unreadable as he stepped closer, almost like he was trying to reach you. “what? no, we don’t—”

“i just… can’t. i’m sorry,” you interrupted, forcing the words out.

before he could say anything else, before he could try to fix it or ask why, you turned away. the door to the hallway was just a few steps away, and you didn’t look back. you couldn’t.

“don’t do this,” he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “i don’t get it. just… tell me what’s going on. we can talk through this, we—”

you left him standing there, his voice calling after you, but you didn’t stop. you just kept walking.

your hands were shaking at your sides. you couldn’t stand there and explain it. you couldn’t tell him how the doubts, the insecurities, and the hurt from that night, and many more, had eaten away at you. you couldn’t admit how broken you felt.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered

you slammed the door behind you as you walked out of the school building, your chest tight with emotion. you hadn’t wanted to hurt him. you hadn’t wanted any of this. but it was easier to push him away than face what was really happening inside of you.

as you drove home, the silence in the car felt louder than ever. you wiped your eyes, feeling the tears burn, but you didn’t let them fall. you couldn’t. not now. not when you’d just made the hardest decision of your life.

the weekend felt like a stom. a quiet, lonely and depressing storm that dragged on and on, leaving you completely drained. you stayed in your room, avoiding anyone and everything. you couldn’t stop the thoughts that kept eating away at you—about rafe, about yourself, about everything you had tried to ignore. the silence between you two felt suffocating, and every time you thought about him, your chest tightened, your stomach twisted into knots.

you hated how you felt. it felt like the pieces of you that had been so carefully put together over the past few years were slowly falling apart. the self-doubt, the insecurity, the overwhelming sense of not being good enough—it all came rushing back, drowning out everything else.

you hated the way your skin seemed too tight, like you were trapped in a body that didn’t feel like your own. you couldn’t even look at yourself in the mirror. every inch of you felt like a disappointment. your hair, limp and lifeless. your skin, pale and dull. your eyes, tired and red from crying too much.

you hadn’t realized how much of your worth had been tied to him until now. all those times you’d spent together, feeling special, feeling like you mattered… now it just felt like you were invisible again, like nothing about you was enough.

sitting in your room, you stared at the mirror, barely recognizing the person looking back at you. your hair was messy, your eyes tired and swollen from crying. you just felt... ugly. it wasn’t just the way you looked, but the way you felt in your own skin. everything felt off, like you were a shadow of who you used to be.

why did i do this? you thought, running your hands over your face, wiping away the last traces of tears. he deserves better than this... than me.

the thoughts wouldn’t stop, and the heavier your heart felt, the more you wanted to retreat from the world. i should’ve never broken up with him. he’s probably better off without me.

just as you were about to bury yourself under the covers, you heard a knock on your door.

“hey, it’s me.”

his voice floated in, barely above a whisper. “can i come in?”

your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to open the door. you had no idea what to say to him, no idea how to explain what was going on in your head. but when the door creaked open a little, rafe stepped inside, looking hesitant but determined. his eyes softened when he saw you sitting on your bed, your posture slumped, your gaze avoiding his.

his eyes searched you with a mix of concern and something else you couldn’t quite place.

you didn’t move. you just sat there, feeling small and fragile. you didn’t want to talk. you didn’t want to explain. but rafe wasn’t going to leave without answers.

he walked over to the bed, sitting at the edge, but not too close. he was careful, like he didn’t want to invade your space.

“why’d you do it?” his voice was quiet, but there was no hiding the hurt in it. “why’d you break up with me?”

you couldn’t meet his eyes. you couldn’t find the words, not without feeling like you’d fall apart. instead, you just shook your head, staring at your hands in your lap.

his voice was soft, but there was a hurt in it that made your chest tighten. “i don’t understand, y/n. we were… we were good, weren’t we?”

you squeezed your eyes shut, a wave of guilt crashing over you. you wanted to tell him everything—everything that was going on in your head, all the reasons you felt like you weren’t enough. but the words felt stuck in your throat.

“i… i just…” you started, but the words failed you. you didn’t even know how to explain. you were a mess, lost and confused.

rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated but still patient. “hey, look at me. please.”

you didn’t want to, but you did. you couldn’t stand the hurt in his eyes, couldn’t stand the fact that you were the one causing it.

when you finally met his gaze, his expression softened. “i don’t know what’s happening, y/n, but i can’t help if you won’t tell me.”

you opened your mouth, but the words just wouldn’t come. everything felt so overwhelming. the pressure in your chest, the weight of everything you were feeling, and the fear that rafe would see you for what you really were.

“i just… i wasn’t..." you took a deep breath, you felt like you needed to throw up. your stomach was turning, “i’m not okay,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “i thought i could fix myself, but i can’t. i feel like... like i’m not good enough, rafe. for you. for anyone.”

rafe didn’t say anything at first. you could hear him breathing, steady and slow. then, his hand reached out, gently touching yours. you flinched at the contact, but he didn’t pull away. instead, he gave you a reassuring squeeze.

“you’re wrong,” he said quietly. “you’re more than enough. more than anyone could ever ask for.”

“you are good enough,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “you are everything to me. don’t you see that?”

you felt the lump in your throat grow, your eyes welling up again. you wanted to believe him, so badly, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe you weren’t.

you shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes again. “you don’t get it,” you muttered. “you deserve someone better than me. someone who isn’t a mess, someone who actually has their shit together.”

“stop.” rafe’s voice was firm, but not harsh. “you’re not a mess. you’re human, y/n, and that’s okay. i don’t need you to be perfect. i just need you to be you.”

you closed your eyes, his words sinking into you like a balm to a wound. why did it hurt so much? you thought, still shaking with emotion.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, barely able to speak through the tears. “i’m so sorry for pushing you away. i don’t know how to fix this.”

rafe didn’t say anything at first. he just pulled you into his arms, holding you close, his warmth surrounding you in the darkness of your room. he didn’t ask for explanations, didn’t try to make you feel better with empty words. he just held you.

“i don’t know how to stop feeling like this,” you shook your head, tears running down your face. “i feel so, so disgusted, by myself. and i don't even know why.”

“you don’t have to fix it,” rafe said gently. “you don’t have to be anything other than yourself. i’m not going anywhere, okay? i just want to help you through this.”

you looked at him, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw the softness in his eyes. the care. the concern.

you still felt too broken to believe it, but for the first time in days, you let yourself feel like maybe, just maybe, it could be okay.

[stark-ironman]

Hello!

I love your fics.

Can I request a fic with hugh jackman where the reader makes him beg to ride him?

Ride

18+ No Minors

A/N: this really screamed sub Hugh. I really hope you like it! Thank you for the request because I sure love reading your stuff!!!

Warnings: use of vibrator (m recieving), begging, praise kink (if you squint), sub Hugh.

"Do you trust me?" You ask, pulling away slightly from Hugh's lips. "With my life, darling." "Sit up against the headboard with your arms up." Hugh immediately does what you ask, his eyebrows slightly raising as you pull out a pair of handcuffs thats normally used on you.

You secure them to the bed and around his wrists, sitting on his lap against his brief covered erection and taking his face in your hands, admiring the way he's staring up at you before kissing him deeply. Hugh moans softly against you, attempting to grind his hips against yours but you stop him.

"I have a couple things planned first.." You mumble, reaching into the drawer and pulling out one of your vibrators, a wand to be exact. "Darling.." Hugh whispers, his cock jumping against you when he realizes your idea. "Just say the word and I'll stop." You assure, watching him shake his head. "I don't want you to stop."

You scoot back, turning the vibrator on and teasing it over his length, feeling Hugh buck his hips up. Pressing the wand against the sensitive area on his cock, a guttural moan escapes his lips as his head falls back against the headboard. "Shit, darling..." He chokes out, thrusting up against the toy.

"Look at you, baby. So handsome to me.." You lean down, running a tongue over one of his nipples before kissing up his chest, lightly grazing over his chest hair until you reach his neck. Your lips continue their assault on him, slowly working up to his jaw, then to his lips.

Hugh kisses you desperately, tugging on the restraints with a deep breath. "Baby, ride me.. please. I really need to be inside of you." He lightly begs, a whimper falling from his lips. You look down at where the vibrator meets his clothed erection, seeing precum soak through his underwear.

You set the toy down beside him, helping him slide out of his briefs before leaning down, taking the leaky tip in your mouth and pushing him down your throat. "Oh- fuck." He chokes, his stomach muscles tense as you work your way down.

Once your nose touches his pube hair, you pull up slightly before taking him back down your throat, listening as his moans and whines fill the air, the faint sound of the handcuffs being pulled on being added in.

"Darling, I need you. Please, ride me so I can cum deep inside of you. I need you so fucking bad right now." He babbles, his thrusts causing you to slightly choke around him.

You pull off of him with a pop, moving to sit in his lap but you decide to tease him just once more, rubbing his head across your entrance. "Baby, please." His desperation causes his accent to deepen. You grab his face to look into his eyes, seeing the love and the need in his lust-blown eyes as you lower onto him.

His mouth opens from the feeling of you around him and he places open-mouth kisses across your jaw. "Can I touch you?" He asks pulling on the restraints again. You unlock the cuffs from his wrists, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as his hands grip your hips tightly.

You grind and bounce against him, moans escaping both of your lips while he helps move you. "I'm not going to last long.." His breathing starts picking up after saying that, causing you to still on his length.

"What-" You quiet him with a kiss, pulling back slightly. "I want to try something new. I promise you will cum here soon." You say, reaching your hand down to your clit and rubbing the sensitive nub, your walls tightening around him.

Hugh curses in your ear, holding you steady as you get yourself off with him still inside of you. Your breathing quickens and you moan softly into his ear, feeling him start to twitch inside of you as your orgasm gets closer.

"C'mon, darling. Get yourself off on my dick. Let me feel you clench around me." He growls, whispering more dirty things in your ear as your orgasm rushes through you, feeling Hugh release inside of you at the same time.

His hands hold you steady while his head falls forward on your shoulder. The sound of your heavy breaths fill the air as you slide off of him. "We need to do that more often." He mumbles, laying his head on your chest and you hold him close.

"Just say the word and we will." You say chuckling him, kissing the top of his head.

[pantherxrogers]

Hiya! Would you ever consider continuing the minghao after hours fic? 👀 if not, dw! 💗

after hours pt.2 - minghao x fem!reader (18+)

💜 pairing: minghao x fem!reader (established relationship)

💜 warnings: smut (minors dni), dry humping, explicit language, (protected) p in v sex, couples first time having sex (not virgins), use of pet names, fluff, not proofread (sorry my darling!)

💜 summary: looks like minghao does want to stay after hours 🙂‍↕️🤭

💜 a/n: had a lot of fun with this! thanks for the request darling! sorry it took so long. this semester put me through the ringer i fear 😭

read pt. 1 here!

my masterlist

All kpop stories are works of fiction and are not meant to represent real events or the actual personalities of any K-pop idols mentioned. All characters and situations are purely imaginary. These stories are created for entertainment purposes only, and no harm or disrespect is intended toward the idols or their fans. Enjoy!

"honey, is this okay?" minghao's voice is patient and kind. so kind it's making you want to cry.

"y-yes, hao, i promise. i really want you," you breathe into his ear, finding it hard to focus on anything aside from the feel of his plump lips against your neck.

your boyfriend's body is flush against your own, slowly grinding his hips into your core. you're both fully clothed, lost in the momentum you carried from the living room. with each roll of his hips, you can feel the outline of his dick. the pressure is overwhelming but also not enough.

"h-hao," you whimper, doing your best to match his pace.

"talk to me, honey" he murmurs into your ear. his voice is deep and steady, washing over you like honey. the warmth of his breath tickles your ear, just as he presses a soft kiss to your neck.

all you can do is whimper, struggling to form any words.

"feels really good," you whine, reveling in the feeling of his hard cock. your panties are soaked, and the thin pajama shorts are not enough to mask it.

"feels good for me, too," he grunts, hurriedly pulling his t shirt over his head.

you feel warmth spread to your cheeks, fascinated by the hard lines of his body. he's slim yet toned, like he was carved from marble. you notice the way he subtly flexes for you. if it were anyone else, you would've cringed. but, the only thing you're doing now is staring in awe.

minghao gently lifts your hand, bringing it to rest on his abs. the way he smirks down at you makes everything feel hotter, like he's fully aware of the effect he has on you.

"it's all for you, baby," he murmurs, watching the way your hands trace along the muscle. he hesitates for a moment, glancing at the way your body looks beneath him.

you tease him a little, toying with the bottom of your shirt. his eyes follow your every movement, in a trance. "hao, want to help me take it off?" you chirp, smirking at him.

he's nodding before you can finish your sentence, gently easing your shirt off your body. "fuck, baby. look so good," he groans, mesmerized by the way your full breasts look in the lacy bra.

"you can touch them, if you want," you whisper, nervous for his reaction. minghao's next steps dissipate any fears you had.

his hands massage your breasts, groping them through the thin material of your bra. you let out a breathy moan, turned on by his obvious need for you.

"can i take this off, baby?" he asks, eyes full of pleading. "please do," you hum, lost in the feel of his hands.

the cool air makes your nipples harden, but they're soon enveloped by the warmth of your boyfriend's mouth. while he sucks on one nipple, he massages the opposite nub between his fingers.

your eyes roll back, lost in the way he licks the sensitive skin. you can feel your clit throbbing, desperate for more. beyond the need for subtleties, you grind up into his hips. the feel of his hard cock is sweet torture, a promise of what's soon to come.

"h-hao, no more teasing, please," you whine, trying to shimmy out of your bottoms.

"not teasing. just appreciating my beautiful lady," he murmurs, pressing a final kiss to your breasts. his words cause a flutter in your tummy, only adding to your arousal.

a comfortable silence fills the space, hao undressing himself and helping you finish undressing. your heart skips a beat, taking in his bare form. his cock is flushed and standing proudly, beads of precum around the tip. you squirm beneath him, desperate to feel it inside you.

"i don't think i've ever been this hard in my life. but, i need to make sure you're 100% ready for this," minghao asks, sincerity in his voice.

"hao, i've never been more ready for anything. like ever," you joke, both of you giggling softly. "but, i still appreciate you for asking." he answers you with a soft kiss, asking you where he can find condoms.

you point him towards your nightstand, admiring the way his body leans and stretches over you. his movements are smooth, gliding the latex over his erection.

bringing his fingers to his lips, you groan at the way he wets them before circling your clit. "damn, baby. you're this wet already?" he teases, massaging the sensitive nub.

you can't answer back, lost in the the pattern of his fingers on your most sensitive area. you moan in suprise, relishing in the way his slim fingers slowly stretch out your cunt.

"so fucking tight, damn. can feel you gripping my fingers, pretty girl," he whispers in awe, watching the way your cunt swallows his fingers whole. lewd noises fill your bedroom, your ample wetness making for a smooth glide.

"minghao, please. need you to fuck me," you whine, hips chasing his fingers. you groan at the sudden loss, dizzy from pleasure.

"okay, baby. i'm going to give it to you," he coos, teasing your clit with the tip of his cock. both of you let out borderline-pornographic moans, lost in pleasure.

when minghao finally eases his cock into you, you're seeing stars. his thick cock stretches you out in the best way, gliding against your smooth walls. when he's balls deep, hips resting against your own, you clench around him. the groan he lets out is the best thing you've ever heard.

"shit, shit, shit. gonna cum if you keep doing that," he grunts, easing out and gliding back in. he finds his rhythm, slowly fucking you into the mattress.

his body is warm and firm against your own. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, needing to be as close as possible. the pair of you meet in a messy kiss, moaning without a care in the world.

he feels amazing inside you, tip brushing against the spongy spot that has you clenching uncontrollably. "hao, right there, please," you cry, meeting his thrusts.

"okay, baby. i hear you, i hear you," he coos, changing positions. he brings his hands under your knees, pressing your thick thighs against your chest.

"fuck!" you whine, the new angle allowing him to massage your g spot with every thrust. "i'm cumming," you whimper, orgasm washing over you in waves. you feel minghao's thumb drawing slow circles on your clit, working you through the pleasure.

"oh fuck, baby," he grunts, head lolling back at the feel of your pussy clamping down on him.

you're a sight to behold, and he feels himself teetering over the edge. the way you moan and squirm makes his balls tighten, emptying his load into the condom.

he doesn't pull out until he sees you coming down from your high, still drawing slow circles on your clit. when he eases out of you, he presses kisses to your cheeks, cuddling your body against his own.

minghao's comfort brings you back to the moment, fully relaxing in his hold. he allows you to rest for a moment, before coaxing the pair of you into the bathroom to wind down for the night.

as you shower together, cuddling beneath the warm spray, you find yourself truly at ease. you barely have the energy to wash yourself off, but minghao takes care of you.

just like he always has and will in the future.

[sorcerer-felix]

I've never been the biggest guy about 5'5 and 180 Ibs. People think I am 10 years younger than I am (I'm 29). I wish I could be one of those huge muscular guys that has a commanding presence and oozes masculinity.

The gym buzzed with the sounds of grunting weights and the rhythmic thud of sneakers against treadmills. You watched, enviously, as the muscular men strutted around, their broad shoulders and commanding presence making you feel like a shadow in their midst.

You stood there in your oversized t-shirt, wishing you could be one of them—someone who could walk into a room and have everyone take notice. You were halfway through your lukewarm set of curls when you caught sight of Felix, the sorcerer. He was running on a treadmill, his blond hair flowing behind him like a golden banner.

You approached, half out of desperation and half out of curiosity. “Felix,” you said, slightly out of breath, “I wish I could be one of those huge muscular guys that has a commanding presence and oozes masculinity.” With a playful grin, Felix kept running. “That can be arranged, but it’s not just about appearance. It’s also about attitude. You need a mentor who shows you how to be commanding!” He paused his run, producing a tarot card. “Here, take this. It’s the Wheel of Fortune. If you find the right mentor, lay the card on the table and he will magically become your mentor and teach you everything you need to know!” You took the card, though skepticism nagged at the back of your mind. Still, you had nothing to lose.

Over the next few days, you wandered the gym, eyeing potential mentors. You’d approached some of the guys at the gym, hoping for guidance, but they were all brawn and no brains—mere meatheads with egos to match their muscles. Each encounter left you feeling more deflated. You wanted someone who could teach you not just how to lift weights but how to command a room, to embody the confidence that oozed from those muscular titans. Each failed attempt left you feeling more frustrated and disheartened. When you arrived at the office that day, the last thing you needed was Hank, your colleague. He strode in, exuding an air of arrogance that made your skin crawl. He was tall—towering, really—his muscles rippling beneath a fitted shirt that did little to hide his vanity. You hated him for it, yet a small part of you envied the way he filled the room with his presence. You despised him for his cocky swagger, but even more for the way his confidence made you feel small. "Hey, buddy," he said, stepping behind your chair, his voice a low rumble that dripped with condescension. You could feel the warmth of his body close to you, and his hands landed possessively on your shoulders. “Uh, Hank,” you started, trying to suppress the flutter of irritation in your chest. “Can you maybe not—” “Relax.” He leaned closer, peering at the screen. “What’s this? Your latest failure? Just look at this,” he said, his breath warm against your ear. You swallowed hard, trying to shake off the discomfort.

Then, disaster struck. Suddenly, the tarot card Felix had given you slipped from your shirt pocket, fluttering to the desk like a fallen leaf. You watched in disbelief as it landed, the edges glowing a magical blue. “What’s that?” Hank asked, his tone shifting from casual to curious.

Before you could reply, the card began to glow with a magical blue light. You stared in disbelief as the image on the card shifted to reveal a young man in a black jumpsuit, opened to the waist, with a dog mask covering his face. The imprint read "The Dog".

Your breath hitched. “Wha—?” Your body began to shift, warmth enveloping you as if you were being wrapped in a cocoon. “No! Wait!” you gasped, but it was too late. You fell to your knees, your shirt and dress pants melting into the silky fabric of the jumpsuit. A mask materialized over your face, obscuring your features. Hank’s laughter echoed in your ears, deep and mocking. “I guess I will name you Rowdy!” he said, his voice booming with satisfaction. You wanted to protest, to scream and tell him to fuck off, but all you could manage was a muffled growl, the mask constricting your voice.

The transformation continued, and you felt your body reshape, fur sprouting from your skin. You whimpered, a sound that was no longer human, as you became a sleek black dog. You looked up at Hank, who grinned down at you, a smug satisfaction radiating from him. “Good boy,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension.

Hank’s voice became a beacon of command in your mind, and you found yourself craving his approval, yearning for his direction. “Let’s train, Rowdy,” he said, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “You’re going to learn how to fight.” Days turned into weeks, and the training was brutal. Hank pushed you to your limits, and each fight honed your aggression and dominance.

The damp, concrete cellar was a far cry from the polished gym where you once felt so small. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and blood, the walls echoing with the growls and barks of dogs locked in combat. You were now one of them—at least in the sense that your body has been transformed into dogs'. The weight of your new body felt powerful, but beneath that strength was a struggle against the obedience that Hank had drilled into you. “Rowdy!” Hank barked, his voice a commanding rumble that sent a shiver through you. You instinctively dropped to all fours, your muscles taut and ready, eyeing him with a mix of anticipation and resentment. “Get over here!” You couldn't help but follow, the instinct to obey surging within you. As you approached, drool dripped from your lips, a sign of your growing ferocity, but inside, a part of you seethed. “Damn it,” you thought, your mind fighting against the dog inside. Hank crossed his arms, watching you with a smirk. “You’re getting better, boy. Can’t wait to see you tear into that mutt tonight. You’ve got the spirit of a champion.” His eyes shone with sadistic pride. You growled low in your throat, the sound escaping before you could suppress it. The thrill of the fight surged in your veins, a hunger that eclipsed the small, shy man you used to be. But it was Hank’s voice that kept you in line, the master that had reshaped you into this beast. “Sit!” he commanded, and against your will, your body complied, your haunches hitting the ground. “Good boy!” he praised, and the words stirred something within you—an odd mix of pride and loathing. As the days wore on, you felt the relentless rhythm of training seeping into your very being. The more you fought, the more you craved it. Every victory in the pit heightened your adrenaline, but it was always Hank’s approval that lingered in your mind. You hated the way it felt to seek his validation, yet there you were, locked in a cycle of obedience.

“Tonight’s fight is important,” Hank said, leaning closer, his breath hot against your face. “You need to show everyone who’s boss. You’re not just a dog; you’re my dog.” The possessiveness in his tone made you bristle, the primal part of you wanting to snap at him for his arrogance, yet you found yourself nodding, the obedience coursing through you like a drug. “Good. Now let’s see that aggression.” He tossed you a worn-out training dummy, and you lunged for it, sinking your teeth into the fabric. The thrill of tearing it apart sent sparks of pleasure through your body, and you felt a growl rumble deep in your chest. “Yeah, that’s it! Let it out!” Hank shouted, his voice a mix of excitement and authority. You could see the gleam in his eyes, and you knew he delighted in your ferocity, feeding it like a twisted form of affection.

Hours later, you stood in the makeshift pit, the crowd surrounding you like vultures, ready to witness the carnage. Your muscles were taut, every fiber of your being ready to explode into action. Hank stood at the edge, his gaze fixed on you, the way he commanded the room making you feel both empowered and trapped. “Show them who you are, Rowdy!” he shouted, and you surged forward, the thrill of the fight consuming you. You felt the adrenaline wash over you, the instinct to dominate and destroy taking control. As you lunged at your opponent, the rush of aggression overwhelmed you. You could almost taste the blood, the primal joy of the fight igniting a frenzy within.

But just as you were about to unleash your full power, a voice broke through the haze. “Rowdy, enough!” Hank’s command cut through the chaos, and you skidded to a halt, panting, your body trembling with pent-up energy. You hated that you had to obey, but the truth was, you had become his. “Good boy,” Hank cooed, and while your instincts roared for freedom, a part of you reveled in the praise. The thrill of the fight became an addiction, and you would often find yourself in a frenzy, teeth bared, ready to tear into anything that moved. It was Hank’s steady grip on your collar that pulled you back from the edge of madness when you teetered too close. In that moments, you were his perfect fighting dog, powerful and aggressive, yet completely obedient. The conflict within you grew, but as you locked eyes with Hank, you felt an odd sense of belonging.

One evening, after a particularly brutal training session, you lay stretched out on a couch in Hank’s luxurious loft. The scent of leather and cologne hung in the air as you panted, muscles sore but exhilarated. Hank leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smirk on his face. Felix strolled in, his presence lighting up the room. “How is he performing?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Hank chuckled, pride swelling in his chest. “He’s a good boy now. The perfect fighting dog—strong, aggressive, but totally loyal towards me!” Felix raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “So, I guess you’ve taught him everything he needs to know!”

With a flick of his wrist, Felix summoned the magic again. You felt a tingling sensation wash over your body, and in an instant, everything changed. The world around you twisted and blurred, and suddenly, you were standing upright. You looked down, astonished to find yourself transformed back into a human. But you weren’t the meek office worker anymore. Gone was the timid, thin frame. Instead, you were a muscular, handsome man with black hair and a rugged stubble.

You felt the power coursing through you, the confidence radiating from your very being. “What the—” you started, your voice deep and commanding now. You flexed your arms, marveling at the definition in your biceps. Hank looked you up and down, a satisfied grin on his face. “Rowdy, you look incredible,” he said, his voice filled with admiration. “I knew you had it in you.” Felix clapped his hands together, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “See? I told you it was all about attitude. You’ve become the man you always wanted to be!” You felt a surge of energy, a newfound sense of self. “I… I never thought I could be like this,” you said, testing your voice. It was rich and resonant, dripping with authority. Hank stepped closer, his gaze steady. “You’ve earned this. You fought hard, and now you have what you wanted—a commanding presence.” As you looked around the luxurious loft, you realized just how far you had come. The weight of your insecurities melted away, replaced by a sense of purpose. “What’s next?” you asked, the thrill of excitement bubbling in your chest. Felix grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Now, it’s time for you to embrace your new life. The world is yours to conquer, Rowdy.” With a shared nod between the two of you, a new chapter began. You felt the weight of the past lift, replaced by the thrill of limitless possibilities. You were ready to command attention, to assert yourself in a world that had once overlooked you. As laughter echoed through the loft, you knew that you were no longer the invisible worker—you were Rowdy, a force to be reckoned with.

[steddieas-shegoes]

nothing but my jacket on

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'jacket'

all of my holiday drabbles will be from the bear hugs universe. many of them could probably be read standalone, but will make the most sense and be enjoyed best if you read that first!

rated e | 797 words | no cw | tags: modern au, slice of life but make it sexy, consensual somnophilia, frottage

🧥🧥🧥🧥🧥🧥🧥🧥🧥🧥🧥🧥🧥🧥

Eddie hangs his jacket by the door as he quietly locks it behind him.

The house is silent and dark except for the light above the stove.

He rarely has to be gone this late, but when he is, Steve makes sure to leave his dinner in the oven, a light on in the kitchen, and the bedroom door cracked to welcome him home. He isn’t that hungry tonight, the loss against UConn is a hard one to swallow and he barely got over the anxious energy of the locker room before he left.

He decides to shower first, then maybe he’ll be hungry enough to eat.

When he walks into the bedroom, he’s met with a snoring Steve, asleep on his stomach with a pillow squeezed to his chest, hair a mess, and-

Eddie breathes out slowly.

Steve’s wearing Eddie’s custom Bruins jacket from their first year playing.

All the players got one that year. It’s surprisingly soft and comfortable for something that looks like it was meant to be worn for semi-formal events.

It has Munson across the back above the spiked B, and 86 on the sleeves, with a yellow stripe along the bottom hemline. Eddie keeps it in the closet because he doesn’t feel right wearing it when he doesn’t play for the team.

It looks really good on Steve, though.

Even with the drool hanging from his mouth. Maybe even especially because of it.

It’s a reminder that they made it here, through years of separation, through every conflict they had to face individually and together.

Steve wearing his jacket feels like a full circle moment because it is.

Eddie strips down to his boxers and throws on whatever sweatpants are sitting on his side of the bed. He can shower in the morning; He wants to get in bed with his soon-to-be husband and hold him.

He curls around Steve as much as he can, kisses the back of his head, and closes his eyes.

“Hey,” Steve rasps out.

Eddie opens his eyes and smiles as Steve turns in his arms to face him.

“Hey, baby.”

“How was the game?” Steve’s eyes are heavy, but his lips are curled up in a soft smile.

“Not great. Lost 5-2. Got some work to do before we face them again in a couple weeks,” Eddie pecks Steve’s lips. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Missed you.”

Eddie melts. “Missed you, too. Go to sleep, sweet boy.”

“Mkay,” Steve says as his body relaxes against Eddie’s.

Eddie can feel that Steve’s naked under his jacket, not even wearing underwear. He probably had every intention of fucking Eddie when he got home, but he’s clearly too tired.

His fingers trace the number on the sleeve and Eddie lets his mind wander.

He thinks about Steve riding him while wearing his jacket. He thinks about Eddie being fucked hard, face in the mattress. Steve claiming him while Eddie’s name is on his back. He thinks about pushing Steve against the wall, eating him out until he can’t feel his legs.

His cock is hard, twitching against Steve’s hip. Maybe if Eddie moves a few inches to the side-

“You can,” Steve slurs out.

Eddie’s face turns red.

“‘S why I wore it.”

It would be a waste if Eddie didn’t, right? Steve’s giving him permission. It’s the exact amount of steam he needs to blow off to fall asleep.

He ruts forwards, and the friction of his pants and Steve’s hip against his cock is perfect. He bites back a moan as he picks up the pace, in a rush to get there now that he realizes how much he needs this.

Steve hums, but doesn’t say or do anything to help, already so close to falling asleep again.

Eddie buries his face into Steve’s hair, whimpering into the mess of it, hoping it’ll contain as much of the desperate noise as possible. He’s leaking through his boxers already, close enough that even the tiniest change in pressure will probably send him over the edge.

He reaches his hand down, cups his length through his pants, and squeezes.

He shakes through his release, eyes roving over the visible parts of ‘Munson’ on Steve’s back.

“Love you so much,” Eddie whispers.

There’s no response, but he didn’t expect one. He slides his pants and boxers off with one hand, throws them off the side of the bed to take care of in the morning.

He knows he should get up and shower, or at least wash the drying cum from his pubes before it turns into a disaster.

But the exhaustion that overtook Steve is now sinking into his own bones.

He closes his eyes, breathes in the smell of Steve’s mint shampoo, and drifts to sleep.

[unlistedly]

yan ! college friend(?)(✿◡‿◡)

You always enjoyed the campus library, where everyone minded their own business. Everything was quiet, with the occasional chair squeaking, and the keyboard sounds. Everyone always kept to themselves.

Or they used to.

"You're here early again," a voice broke the silence. You turned to see Li Wei, the friendly engineering student from your economics elective. His smile was sharp, wide and directed towards you. You internally sighed, giving him a small smile. It's not that you dislike him, but he gets.. weird sometimes.

He's a Chinese student, who started to pester you when he caught you staring at him in one of his volleyball matches. He was another one of those well off kids who didn't really have a big group of friends but hell - did he have people trying to invite him h ere and there.

"Just catching up on some reading," You replied curtly, hoping he’d take the hint, "Need anything?"

Instead, he settled into the chair across from you, setting his bag on the table with a thunk. "Mind if I join you? I have a test tomorrow. Studying with you helps me focus." He said, staring at your face - smiling a bit widely. He had a toothy grin, his canine fangs were much more visible than the average person.

Helps him focus? You blinked, resisting the urge to sigh and just reject him right there. His presence was… tolerable, you supposed.

Li Wei had been persistent since midterms, always offering to help with assignments, waiting for you outside class, and—most unsettling of all—showing up in places he had no reason to be, like your favorite coffee shop or the park where you went to clear your head.

You chalked it up to coincidence at first, maybe he was just another college student with the same interests - heck, same favorite places aswell?

But now…

His hand rested casually on the edge of your notebook, his fingers brushing the corner of your paper. You pulled it away instinctively, your pulse quickening. Haah.. you can't let your mind roam for one damn second near this guy.

"Ah? Sorry, did I startle you?" He leaned back to his seat, looking at you worriedly.

"N.. no," you muttered, packing your things. "I should go."

Li Wei’s smile faltered, just for a moment, before stretching wider. "Y/Nnn, " He said a bit louder, making some heads turn, "I just got here though." He said, reaching out for you across the table.

"I work better alone." You quickly shot back, taking a step back while looking around at the people staring. You stood up, facing him with a small smile as you threw your bag over your shoulder, but as you turned, his voice stopped you.

"It wont be bad promise! I'll stay quiet, I won't disturb you! I-i'll buy you some coffee! Anything you want. Desserts, or - or- just, anything."

You paused, gripping the strap of your bag tighter. His voice carried an edge of desperation that made your skin prickle. Slowly, you turned back, meeting his dark, pleading eyes.

"Maybe another time?" you replied, trying to keep your tone even, polite. You didn’t want to make a scene, heck you were already hating the attention, if you could you would've told him months ago to stop bothering you but - he always feels … off.

Li Wei’s smile twitched, but it quickly came back as quick as it left, "Fine," he said, voice low. "If that’s what you want, Y/N. " He smiled, with his hands in his pockets.

It was what you wanted, but the way he said it made the air feel heavier, like the room had shifted around you. You forced a small nod and walked out, feeling his gaze follow you every step of the way. Quickly you scurried away, anywhere - just away from here.

You tried to shake off the lingering unease from earlier. Maybe Li Wei was just awkward.. Maybe he didn’t mean to come across as so intense. B.. but - It wasn’t your responsibility to fix that right? Like, it must be obvious at this point, you don't like him. Sure, he had a lethal face card and a "good" personality but you couldn't just shake off the thought of him being a bit odd.

Your dorm building came into view, and you let out a relieved breath. As you reached the door, you fished your keys from your pocket, only to freeze when you noticed something out of place—a small bouquet of F/C flowers, sitting on the doorstep.

You crouched, hesitating before picking it up. A card was tucked neatly inside the arrangement. It was an elegant-looking card, one you'd see in those cute romance movies.

"I’m sorry if I came on too strong. Please let me make it up to you. – Li Wei."

It was written in cursive, with small hearts around it. You stared at the flowers and picked them up. You've never seen this brand before.

Wa-a-a-ait. Your stomach churned. How did he know where you lived? Did he ask a friend? No, he's never seen them. Maybe he just had someone deliver these? Probably…. ?

You glanced around, suddenly hyperaware of every shadow stretching across the pavement, every darkened corner. No one was there, but the hair on the back of your neck stood on end. If it was someone else, maybe you would've considered it but no, this is Li Wei. He's an … creep oddball.

Just get inside.. and it'll be fine.

You hurried into the room, shutting the door firmly behind you. Not noticing him around the corner, staring as you entered your room.

He's glad the person he asked gave the correct room, it was a bit hard to hear their words when they were missing a few teeth. But what could he do? They didn't wanna answer him at first! Maybe he'll buy you some dessert tomorrow, cheesecake? Yea, that sounds good - maybe this time you won't run.

should i contnunuere

pt 2

[hedwig221b]

Kinda a two part question? Do you have supernatural Stiles recs? (really craving mermaid stuff but all kinds is very loved) and have you thought of writing supernatural Stiles?

and anon asked:

Do you by chance have any creature Stiles or mermaid recommendations? Thank you so much for helping us find stories to read and for writing such wonderful stories!

First of all, thank you! Secondly, to the first anon: I do have a supernatural!Stiles fic, it's called Predators and it's one of my best fics 🖤 I do plan on writing oracle!Stiles, but otherwise, no. Maybe, in the future, I am open to the idea!

So, here are the recs (including merman!Stiles 🧜🏽‍♂️)

Predators (creature!Stiles)

He was born for this. Nature itself whispered into his ear where he should put his hands, how to twirl his tongue just right and when to bite. Stiles knew well enough that his saliva was currently working its magic on this unfortunate man, making him hungry, lustful, and insatiable. Soon, all his thoughts would be consumed by Stiles.

And, just this once, Stiles would allow Derek to consume him.

Sui Tollech Gwanna Tach Omen by jackgyeoms (mer!Stiles)

Mermaid AU. Stiles was five when he first realised that not everybody grew a tail when they entered water.

No Oceans Left by zoemathemata (mer!Stiles)

Stiles has always been a merman. He just never knew how to tell anyone. He hasn’t shifted since his mom died.

It’s A-Boat Time! by Fae_vorite, isthatbloodonhisshirt (mer!Stiles)

He could hear the others talking outside, Scott and Isaac freaking out over something and Stiles snapping at them to shut up and help him get inside.

“Dude, how the fuck can you expect me to stay calm right now! Seriously, that’s a fucking tail!”

“We can talk about it later, just get me inside before someone fucking sees me! I don’t want to end up in a fucking aquarium!”

“Christ, you’re heavy!” Isaac grunted. “How much does this thing weigh?!”

“Shut up and walk,” Stiles snapped.

The Shells at the bottom of the Sea (mer!Stiles)

The one where Stiles is a seal merman trying to fit in with the sharks.

Mermaider by nothing_left_sacred (mer!Stiles)

“So what you’re saying is; you’re a mermaid princess.” Erica concluded.

“Yes, clearly. That is what I am saying. Thank you for putting it so concisely.” Stiles sassed, frowning at her. He wasn’t fucking Ariel; this was so far from being a Disney movie it wasn't even funny.

Or the one where a perfectly normal Beach Vacation escalates way too quickly, because this is Stiles' life.

Somewhere to Start by Lissadiane (fae!Stiles)

Stiles has always known that he isn't quite human - the plant life that tends to sprout around him whenever he gets upset or excited gives it away. He's never really fit in among the regular people in Beacon Hills and is determined to wait it out, go to college, and find somewhere to belong. He's forced to abandon those plans, however, after he desperately agrees to enter into an arranged marriage to save his father's life.

An arranged marriage with an angry, sometimes furry dude with trust issues. It's all very Beauty and the Beast, without the singing candlesticks.

The Last Chills of Winter by LeeHan (fae!Stiles)

“He didn’t magically charm me,” Derek shot back in his defense.

“Oh, so he just regular charmed you?” Laura said with a smirk.

“What? No,” Derek growled.

“Was he hot?”

“No! He just—“ He just had a laugh like a sun shower.

Fuck.

Faith, Trust, And Pixie Dust by Val_Brown (fae!Stiles)

Since he was a baby he had kept it a secret. Something that he shared with his mom. But when something comes after him and attacks his pack, he has to share his secret with them. He knows they won't judge him, hello, they sprout claws, fangs and some wicked sideburns. But he changes to the size of a gerbil and has wings and pretty much farts pixies dust on everything.

Using his new alliance with Peter, Stiles charges in, pixie dust flying to rescue his pack when they are captured by renegade hunters with a strange vendetta.

Bite the Moonlight & Bleed Gold by raisesomehale (creature!Stiles)

He waits until he and Allison are the only two left in the room. “This is a joke.”

Allison says, “Have you ever known my grandpa to have a sense of humor?”

“Really?” Derek’s eyebrows are halfway up his forehead, as he gestures to the word that has been printed under Creature Type on the paper. “‘A Merman’? They’re a myth. No one has ever seen one, let alone caught one.”

Allison leans forward to skim through a few pages and draws out a photo that she sets back down on the paragraph he’d been reading. In it, a marble white ribcage crests the dark, prussian blue of a midnight ocean, the only part of the body visible besides a thrashing, predominantly red tail, curved jaggedly through the waves.

“This image was lifted from Deucalion’s personal channels,” Allison tells him. “His people are keeping the discovery all hush hush, which means they managed the photo, but probably haven’t captured the thing itself yet.” She gives Derek a significant look, “Gerard wants us to get our hands on it first.”

a dying breed that still believes by paxlux (wingfic)

He thinks, Mom, we can do this, we’ll fly.

Hot Pocket Ratio by ShippersList (incubus!Stiles)

At the threat of the alpha pack, all Derek wants is to keep his pack safe and alive. As the last resort, he tries summoning a demon to help with fighting the alpha pack. He gets a bit more than he bargained for.

Or, the story where the classic demon deal of "Will you pledge your firstborn to me?" takes some unexpected turns.

There’s A Beast In My Heart (He’ll Only Bow To You) by RayShippouUchiha (creature!Stiles)

“Stiles.” Derek fucking whimpers and if Stiles wasn’t already dying he’d kill himself for making Derek sound so hurt. Stiles just wants to protect him so much sometimes because no one else ever seems to realize that Derek is so goddamn fragile and Stiles hates them all a little bit for not being able to see that. Or In an effort to expel the Nogitsune Stiles is given the bite but it all goes horribly wrong.

A Most Unusual Hoard by churkey (dragon!Stiles)

Stiles turns into a dragon and no one can figure out what he's hoarding…

My Childhood Spat Back Out The Monster That You See by rightsidethru (demon!Stiles)

Appearances can be deceiving.

Caught by hunters, Derek immediately dismisses his gangly, fellow prisoner as a pressing concern.

After all, the amber-eyed teenager couldn't be more than one hundred and forty-seven pounds soaking wet. What type of threat could he possibly be?

(The answer: a large one.)

9/10ths of the Law by tsukinofaerii (demon!Stiles)

Stiles discovers the hazards of growing up a real boy when, at heart, he's not a real boy at all.

You Were Never Meant to Know by Mooneye (demon!Stiles)

“Not a fan of exorcisms, Stiles?” the figure asked as though he were enquiring about the rain.

“Not really. I could spew black bile if you’d like more authenticity,” Stiles answered.

“Stiles, what’s going on?” Scott demanded, unease growing.

Stiles is a demon, always has been, and never intended for anyone to know. Unfortunately, his secret is forcefully revealed and he has nowhere to hide.

Blodrød by Onlymystory (demon!Stiles)

A demon possessing Alpha werewolves leads a crazed pack to Beacon Hills. He's been stuck inside werewolf minds, when all he wants is a nice human meatsuit. Humans in packs are rare these days and the demon is practically salivating at the thought of possessing Stiles. It's strong, and the pack was taken off guard, unable to protect Stiles before the demon takes control.

But like the demon says…humans in packs are rare.

Blackbird by skoosiepants (shapeshifter!Stiles)

Stiles groans and drops his face into his hands. “I’m seventeen, I can kind of use mountain ash and I can explode houses when I’m mad enough. How am I gonna win any kind of magic fight?”

“We’ll work on it,” Deaton says, as infuriatingly calm as ever. “The important thing to remember, Stiles, is that when everything else is chaos, you’re the port in the storm.”

Or-

Laura Hale never died, and Stiles is magic.

Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | possessive Derek | smut | hurt/comfort | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | mafia | BAMF!Stiles | omegaverse | witch!Stiles

[holymarymotherofsmut]

Summer Heat

Summary: You’re stuck heading into the office on a Sunday on the hottest day of the year, so you forego your usual business attire and show up in something more comfortable. The only problem? Your hot boss, Higuruma Hiromi is also working overtime. Can you handle the heat, the pressure, and Higuruma’s weird behavior?

wc: 8.3k

A/N: I wrote this on a miserable Sunday over the summer where I was too hot and had to do some work (luckily from home). I’ve been fussing over it but the temps are getting lower where I live and I was dreaming about warmer days with later sunsets.

Anyway, this is the first fic I’ve posted in like fifteen years! I feel like it’s too long and could use more editing, but I feel more strongly that the Higuruma girlies don’t get fed nearly enough so I’m doing my part 🫡

The only thing worse than having to go to work on a Sunday was having to go to work on a Sunday that’s also slated to be the hottest day of the year. The thought of putting on your usual pencil skirt and blouse made you want to peel your own skin off.

Then something occurred to you.

No one ever came in on Sunday. Not the power hungry new associates, hoping to stand out. Not the assistants, always drowning in more work than they could reasonably finish, but still did nonetheless. Not even your workaholic boss, Higuruma Hiromi, came in on Sundays.

You felt a guilty thrill, riding the train to the office in just some bike shorts and a tank top. There was no chance of anyone else being there, especially not as early in the morning as you were going, but the idea of getting caught still sent an anxious tingle up your spine.

The air conditioning in the building was almost enough to make up for the mountain of paperwork you needed to review before you could have what precious little remained of the weekend to yourself. You had your own office, whose closed door had trapped the AC since you left on Friday, an icy cold reprieve from the scorching temperatures outside.

As expected, there’s no sign of anyone else in the building today. You leave your door open anyway, hoping to hear anyone who might happen to come in before they find you.

Feeling a little more confident, you put on some music, keeping the level low even with the empty halls. You sang along quietly, occasionally gripping your pen as a microphone to belt out particularly good bits. You were lost in your performance enough that you didn’t notice someone else had arrived at the office.

It’s a muffled chuckle that makes you realize you’re not alone. Your eyes open, shooting to the door where your boss, the law firm's youngest partner, Higuruma Hiromi, is watching you. He has one fist raised to cover his mouth, trying desperately to suppress a laugh.

“Fuck!” You shout in surprise, scrambling to turn off the music.

“Please, don’t let me interrupt,” he says with a good natured smile, still chuckling a little. “I didn’t think anyone else would be here today and then I heard you.”

At the same time, you were trying to explain. “Please, I’m so sorry. I know I’m dressed wildly inappropriately for the office. I really didn’t think anyone would be here.”

He visibly stiffened, finally looking at your outfit. Your breasts spilled out of your top, shining with a thin sheen of sweat just from the brief walk from the station to the office. He could just see a sliver of thigh over the desk where your shorts ended before your legs disappeared under the desk. His smile disappeared and was replaced with an almost pained expression, one you read as thinly veiled disgust.

“I’ll run home and change. I’m so sorry,” you rushed out, standing up behind your desk and fumbling for your bag.

“What?” His big eyes met your panicked ones for a second. “No, don’t be silly. No one else is here, and I’ll be in my office all day.”

You paused, bag still in hand, brain screaming for you to leave and never come back to the office again. “Are you sure?”

“You won’t even know I’m here,” he said with a tight-lipped smile.

He stood there staring at you, not moving until you set your bag down. Once he was satisfied, he gave you a quick nod and turned on his heel out of your office. You knew it was probably your imagination, but you could have sworn he was half-running back to his office.

Higuruma vexed you. That was the only way you could put it. He was generally so kind, so ready to explain something, or to help you work out an argument. He never questioned when you needed time off, he never asked you to stay and work overtime. And being that handsome certainly didn’t hurt. All of this only made you more desperate to impress this man.

The only time he was ever anything other than a perfect gentleman was when you wore revealing clothing. You didn’t have evidence of anything, and it sounded insane even to you, so you hadn’t shared your suspicions, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that was the problem.

The first time it happened, a client had accidentally spilled coffee down the front of your dress, and you didn’t have time to run home and change before you needed to be in court. You had grabbed the spare set of clothes you kept in the bottom drawer of your desk and hoped for the best.

The clothes had been shuffled from one temporary legal job to the next while you were finding your footing after law school, and you’d never had occasion to use them before, so you weren’t terribly surprised to find them a little tight.

You had started eating more, now that you weren’t a literally starving law student. Your figure had filled out, and it showed when you tried to squeeze into the years-old pencil skirt and button down blouse, but you had no other choice. As you tried to secure one more button on the top, trying to retain some level of modesty, your breasts rebelled and you heard the button ping against the mirror.

You were assisting Higuruma in court that day, and immediately things started to go poorly. You had arrived at his office, your blouse undone a button below where it should have been, trying desperately to hide in your coworker’s blazer she’d let you borrow to try to cover yourself a little more effectively.

“You weren’t wearing that earlier,” he had blurted out, taking in the much tighter outfit you had appeared in.

“Sorry. Someone covered me in coffee and this was all I had,” you said with an apologetic wince.

“It’s fine,” he said, waving his hand and looking back down at the papers on his desk intently. “I’m just finishing something up. Can I meet you down by my car? The keys are in the pocket of my jacket just there.”

He didn’t even look up at you as he gestured to the coat rack where his suit jacket hung. You felt a little like you were being dismissed. You took the keys with a frown and made your way down to his car.

He appeared not even a minute later, making you wonder if he just didn’t want to be seen walking with you. He ignored you the whole ride to the court house. Okay, not really - he chatted with you, a little more stiffly than usual, but with a friendly tone. But he didn’t look at you once during the drive. You appreciated him keeping his eyes on the road, but this felt deliberate.

His cold behavior continued for the rest of the day. All throughout the hearing, when he was driving you to the station, all day, he only looked at you if he absolutely had to. The only thing you could think was that he was embarrassed to be seen with you looking like that.

You had returned to the office the next day in long, loose pants and a shapeless sweater, shame still lingering. You replaced your emergency clothes with ones that fit properly. Higuruma went back to being his normal self.

The second time you had noticed it was at the office Holiday party. Everyone had shown up in fun cocktail attire, and you had gotten so many compliments on your dress. Burgundy velvet, long sleeves, and an open neckline that showed off your shoulders without revealing too much cleavage. A happy medium of sexy and office appropriate, or so you’d thought.

After greeting Higuruma on the way in, you didn’t see him for the rest of the night. You had been hoping to chat with him - you were still relatively new and you wanted him to know you were up for any challenging cases he had to throw at you. But every time you’d spot him, in the time it took you to extricate yourself from the conversion you were in and make your way to where you’d spotted him, he was gone.

He had left the party early, and you had left feeling rejected. You couldn’t figure out what you’d done wrong. You could only hope that you could work your way back into his good graces before he decided to fire you.

Only, there was no need to work your way back into his good graces, as it turned out. He was at your desk first thing the next morning, explaining the new defense strategy he had cooked up, sounding hopeful about the case for the first time since he’d taken it on.

If twice is a coincidence and thrice is a pattern, today solidified your belief that it was clothing related. You frown, thinking about how kind you always thought Higuruma was. If he was going to act this way over some clothing, maybe he wasn’t worth putting in the effort to impress.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the smell of coffee drifting from down the hall. You had long finished the cup you brought from home and were craving another. Hesitantly, you made your way to the kitchen, unpleasantly surprised to find Higuruma had beaten you there.

You hesitated in the doorway, debating going in, but his dark eyes found you before you could make a decision.

“Oh, hello again,” he said mildly, immediately turning back to the cupboard. It was too fast to have not been intentional, but he tried to cover it up by opening the cabinet with the mugs, the ends of his slicked-back hair swaying slightly as he surveyed the sea of identical mugs. “I assume you’re here for coffee?”

Before you can answer he pours you a cup, gesturing to it, still not looking at you.

“Thank you.” You say it looking directly at him, hoping to leave him no choice but to finally look you in the eye. And he does, for a fleeting moment. You think you see heated red cheeks as he mumbles something about having work to do and breezes past you out of the kitchenette.

You frown down at the steaming mug in front of you. He didn’t have to like what you wore but he didn’t need to be so dismissive. You decide to have a little fun with him today. If you have to be in the office, and you have to deal with his attitude, at least you can make him squirm.

Around noon you headed down to his office. You’d hiked up your shorts a little, just enough that it was debatable if you’d done it on purpose or if they had just ridden up from walking. Your top was already cut fairly low, but you tugged it down anyway, allowing another inch of cleavage to peak through.

The door to his office was slightly ajar, but you knocked on the wood anyway, polite even when your ultimate goal was to torture him a little. A distracted, “Come in,” came from inside, so you pushed the door the rest of the way open.

“I was just going to order some lunch,” you began, leaning against the door frame casually, knowing the angle would make your legs appear longer. “Did you want anything?”

Your plan was working. When he finally glanced up from the document he’d been poring over, his face went a shade paler. His eyes were locked onto your legs, traveling up the length of them before he remembered himself and snapped them up to meet your gaze.

“I’m fine, thank you,” he replied in a clipped tone, immediately looking back down at his work.

“Are you sure? You really shouldn’t skip lunch.” You frowned, standing up straight and crossing your arms. You might have been toying with him, but you also spent a good part of your regular work day worrying about the man also. He was here early, always the last to leave, and you knew for a fact that he frequently skipped meals in favor of working on a case.

The genuine concern in your tone made him look back up at you curiously, in turn making you realize that you’d strayed from your original goal. You uncrossed your arms, breasts jiggling with the motion, drying up whatever retort Higuruma had lined up on his tongue.

“I brought lunch today, but I appreciate the offer. Feel free to charge it to the company account though, since you’re working on a Sunday.” His tone was polite, the offer kind, but it was clearly a dismissal. Again, his eyes immediately went back to studying the words on the page in front of him.

With a shrug you turned on your heel, not catching the way his eyes followed your ass as you walked away, or the way he shook his head in annoyance at himself after you had disappeared.

Around two, he saw a blur of movement as you left the office, the tell-tale ding of the elevator confirming his suspicions. He let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t know how much longer he could be in the office with you looking like that.

Higuruma thought of himself as a good, ethical man. He was someone who always wanted what was just and fair to be done. He paid his parking tickets on time, he tipped 30% or more even when it wasn’t expected, he didn’t even jaywalk.

And he definitely didn’t hit on his subordinates. No matter how beautiful, or intelligent, or witty they were. No matter how kind they were, no matter how they fussed over him, no matter how much his cock twitched when he saw even an inch of skin he wasn’t expecting.

No, Higuruma would never make the first move, no matter how sure he was that you felt the same magnetic pull between you.

He was still thinking about you when the elevator dinged again, indicating someone’s arrival. He frowned - who would be coming in at this hour on a Sunday?

You.

You hadn’t left, apparently. You had just popped out to the corner store for a snack. In one hand you had a small plastic bag, heavy with a drink and what looked like a couple of onigiri. Your other hand was holding a popsicle up to your mouth.

He prayed that you’d just keep walking past his office, but god was not on his side today, it seemed.

“Here,” you said before putting the popsicle in your mouth, holding it there while you used your now free hand to rummage around in the bag. You produced an onigiri and tossed it at him. He barely managed to catch it, fumbling it a little in his hands. The label said it was spicy tuna, his favorite.

“What’s this for?” He asked, one eyebrow raised. He tried to keep his eyes on your face, which was hard when you were sucking on the popsicle that way. How many times had he imagined you looking at him with your mouth full of…

“For playing baseball,” you responded drily. “What do you think it’s for?”

“I told you, I was fine,” he protested, holding the food out to you uselessly.

“I know you didn’t actually bring lunch,” you said with a scowl. “Eat.”

While the popsicle was out of your mouth, it melted enough to send a drop of red syrup dripping onto your right breast. You swiped at it with a finger and popped the digit into your mouth, then you licked up the side of the popsicle where the errant drip had come from.

He’s not sure he’s ever been harder in his life.

“Thank you.” He said stiffly, suddenly very interested in the wrapper of the onigiri in his hand. “I have some work I need to finish up. Is there anything else?”

You scoffed quietly, and he almost broke and looked up at you, but he instead turned to pretend to rummage in his desk for something.

“No, that’s all Mr. Higuruma,” you replied, matching the formality and stiffness of his tone. He heard your angry footsteps retreat down the hall, only allowing himself to let out a sigh once he heard your door shut just a little too loudly. He put his head in his hands, aware that he had upset you somehow. He had been too focused on not showing his attraction to you, not letting you in on his shameful secret, that he completely missed whatever he might have done to deserve such a reaction.

He’d have to talk to you later, but right now he needed to get his emotions and his dick under control.

You’d had a shockingly productive day, all things considered.

Really, you had thrown yourself into your work to try and forget about Higuruma making you feel… well, you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was you were feeling. At first you thought it was just anger at his dismissive behavior, but under the anger was deep embarrassment. It was the sting of romantic rejection, something you hadn’t considered when you started this little game.

You were attracted to him. You had always been able to admit that. But he was a good man, you thought, far too good to ever do something as scandalous as date an employee. Part of you had maybe hoped that it wasn’t anger but attraction on his part too that made him act so odd around you sometimes.

But you’d proven to yourself once and for all that it was, at the end of the day, disgust and annoyance with you as a person. You could continue to be professional - you were an adult, you had learned how to compartmentalize. But maybe you needed to keep your distance for a while.

This is how you ended up sitting in your office at 7 p.m., sun sinking slowly, casting your office in a wash of orange. You’d wrapped up everything you wanted to do plus a little extra in the hopes of avoiding Higuruma on your way out. You hadn’t heard him leave yet, but surely he had to be gone by now.

As it turned out, you had no such luck.

Two soft knocks sounded from the door. You lifted your head from where you’d had it resting on your arms as you tried to gather the strength to get up and brave the outside world. Higuruma was peering at you through the window to the side of your door, brow creased with concern.

“Come in,” you croaked out, throat sore from holding back tears. You refused to cry at the office.

“Are you alright?” He was talking before he had even taken a step into the office, walking toward you.

“I’m fine. Just a bit of a headache,” you lied, unable to hide the exhaustion in your voice.

“You should go home,” he pressed, hovering a few feet away from your desk, hands lifted like he wanted to help, but they dangled there uselessly as he realized he didn’t know how.

“I will. Did you need something?” You didn’t mean to be so short with him, but he was the last person on earth you wanted to talk to right now.

“No, I just…” He started a sentence, then paused, studying your face. He closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. When he opened them, his dark irises were fixed on yours in determination. “I feel like I upset you earlier, and I wanted to come and apologize.”

“No apology necessary, Mr. Higuruma. You haven’t done anything to upset me.” Another lie, bitter as it rolled off your tongue.

He said nothing, but continued staring at you, as if waiting for you to reveal the truth. You couldn’t stand to hold his gaze, your eyes shooting down to the documents in front of you. You started to rearrange the papers on your desk, just to have something to do with your hands, praying he didn’t notice your fingers shaking as you did.

He stepped forward, hands now moving with purpose to take the papers from you and set them down, forcing you to look up at him again.

“Please tell me what I’ve done wrong,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me. I’m willing to learn, I promise.”

“You want the truth?” You asked defiantly, suddenly ready to teach him the meaning of the phrase ‘be careful what you wish for.’

“Please,” he repeated. His melancholy gaze stayed on your face, giving him the appearance of a hound dog trying to understand why its master was angry.

“You need to get over whatever your hangup is with revealing outfits,” you said, crossing your arms, now meeting his stare with intensity he hadn’t expected. “It sucks that you treat me one way when I’m dressed modestly and another way when I dare to have a little more skin showing.”

“Is that… is that what you think it is?” He asked, suddenly a little amused. He had come in here ready to be scolded for ogling you, for making you uncomfortable with his obvious and unwanted attraction.

What a fascinating turn.

“Well… what else could it be?” You asked, scrunching your brows together in confusion.

“Let me put it to you this way,” Higuruma began softly, a half-smile playing around his lips. “Have you seen what Lisa the receptionist considers work appropriate?”

You cringed internally at the thought. Lisa, the receptionist who apparently didn’t need to sleep at all. She regaled you all with her tales of weeknight clubbing, and her taste in clothes showed it. Her skirts were short, her heels were high, and if she wasn’t showing cleavage, you could safely assume that it was because of hickies she didn’t want anyone to see (though she would absolutely show you without prompting if you had the misfortune of being in the bathroom with her at the same time).

“I mean, she looks fantastic,” you argued weakly, understanding where this was going.

“She does,” he agreed. “Have you ever seen me treat her differently because of what she was wearing?”

“Well… No,” you admitted, feeling your case fall apart in your hands.

“So why would you think that I’d treat you any differently?” He asked, still trying to get to the root of your anger.

“Because you do! Because whenever I wear something even slightly more scandalous than a pantsuit, you ignore me! It’s like I’m not even there!” Traitorous tears gathered along your lashline, threatening to spill down your cheeks. “Is it because you just don’t like me personally? Is it something I’ve done?” You voice wavered, breaking on the last word.

“Oh dear,” Higuruma said, mostly to himself, it seemed. “I’ve really fucked this up, haven’t I?”

“What are you talking about?” You sniffled, resisting the urge to grab a tissue. Somehow that felt like one pathetic step too far.

He said your name with a quiet fondness you hadn’t been expecting. “It’s not anything you’ve done, and it’s not your clothes. It’s my fault. I’ve been worse at hiding my feelings than I thought, it seems.”

“What do you mean?” You insisted. “If it’s not the clothes, what is it?”

He made his way around your desk, kneeling down penitently in front of you on the floor. He looked up at you with a sad smile. “Forgive me. In trying to conceal my attraction to you, it seems I’ve been terribly rude.”

Your ears fill with the sound of your own blood rushing through your veins, so loud that you almost miss what he says next.

“I completely understand if you don’t want to work with me any longer. I can rearrange the cases and make sure you don’t have to work on mine. I’ll keep my distance.” His gaze falls to the floor, shoulders following downward as he finishes.

“Higuruma,” you say breathlessly, hoping he’ll look up at you again. When he doesn’t, you lean forward in your chair, hands cupping his cheeks and making him look. There’s fear and longing and sadness all mixed together in his expression. His under eye circles even seem to have darkened in the time it took him to make his confession.

But there’s also kindness in those eyes. A desire to do what’s best for you and everyone else, no matter the personal cost to him. His proud nose casts a shadow on his face, half of it warmed by the golden light creeping through the window. He looked like a painting, a portrait of a man burning with desire just under a placid surface.

“What if I don’t want you to keep your distance?”

It’s a simple question. He has a law degree. But still he can’t quite parse what you’re saying. His brain short circuited the minute you put your hands on his face.

“What does that mean?” He whispered.

“It means…” You pause, carefully considering your words. “It means that maybe what got me so upset earlier was the idea that you would never want me the way I want you, Hiromi.”

Just as he thought he was getting his feet back under him, you’ve knocked them out again. It’s not just the idea that you want him too - he’d never heard you say his first name before. He’d never even allowed himself to imagine it. The way your tongue wrapped around it, tasting the syllables for the first time had him ready to combust.

“Say that again. Please.” He was breathless already, face warming under your palms.

“I want you,” you repeated, your gaze moving between his eyes and his lips, like you couldn’t decide where to look.

“Say it properly,” he begged, hands reaching up to take your face in his hands.

It took you a moment to understand the request, distracted by the way his thumbs rubbed against the apples of your cheeks. You were leaning down in your chair, and he was sitting tall on his knees, your lips mere inches apart.

But you got there eventually. “I want you, Hiromi,” you said again, both of you already moving to close that final distance.

The kiss was better than you ever could have fantasized about. His lips were warm and soft, immediately parting against yours desperately. His hold on you was firm, clutching you close. Your right hand migrated to the back of his head, digging into the dark hair there and pulling him closer.

His tongue darted out, swiping your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You sighed into the kiss, allowing him to push his tongue further, moving against your tongue like it was the last time he’d ever kiss someone.

You broke apart breathlessly, cheeks aflame. Your lips shone with a mix of your saliva and his, making him kiss you again and again, unable to stop himself now that he knew you wanted this too.

Your hands tugged desperately at his shoulders, pulling him to you. You made to kneel down on the ground with him, eager for more, but he stopped you. You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him he’d tortured you this long, he could kiss you for another few minutes, but one look from him silenced you.

“Sit on the desk,” he commanded. You followed his directions, pushing aside your carefully-sorted piles haphazardly. He stood up and took his place between your parted thighs, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you to the very edge of the desk. You could feel his cock behind his trousers, hard as iron, pressing between your legs. You both gasped at the contact. The bike shorts might as well not have been there, for all they did to shield you from the blinding pleasure as he rutted against you desperately.

He leaned over you, caging you in, making you recline on your elbows as he continued to kiss you stupid. Breaths were taken in gasps, or while pressing your lips against each other’s necks, hot breath tickling sensitive hairs and sending you both into a frenzy all over again.

Hiromi broke the cycle, kissing down your neck, pulling the tanktop down to expose one perfect breast to him. He had never been a greedy man, never taking more than he needed at one time. His tongue flattened against your nipple, dragging slowly upward until the tip just caught on your hardening bud. He flicked his tongue with practiced ease, both of your nipples immediately standing at full attention, a fact he confirmed with his nimble fingers, tweaking the flesh beneath the thin top.

The corner of his mouth twitched upward in a satisfied smile. He knew he should stop. He’d gotten what he wanted. What if someone came in? What if there were cameras watching this whole thing? You had all the time in the world for this, why not wait until he could get you in private?

It wasn’t enough, he realized. He didn’t just need you here and now. He needed you to know you were his and he was yours. He needed to make up for lost time and avoidable heartache at his hand.

He had never been a greedy man, but you made him want to be. And now he needed to atone for his deadly sins.

He abandoned your breasts, both now popping out of the top of your shirt, slick with his spit, bruises blooming in the shape of his mouth against your soft skin. He began his descent again, sinking to his knees once more. He kissed along your ribs, pushing your shirt out of the way so he could mouth at the soft plush of your stomach, kissing and licking in a straight line from your naval down, down down.

He was tantalizingly close to his goal. Just as his lips were about to make contact with the outline of your pussy against the shorts, you stopped him with two hands in his hair.

“Wait,” you said breathlessly, gasping for air. Your head was spinning with desire, but not so much that you’d lost all sense.

“What is it? Do you not want this?” He panicked, standing up and taking a step back, hands up as a show of no ill intentions.

“No, I do,” you reassured him. “Very much so. But um, these shorts aren’t super breathable.”

He knew there was a reason you were bringing this up, but his mind was blank, focused solely on how he’d almost gotten to taste you after endless months of fisting his cock to mere fantasies. His face contorted with confusion, head cocking to the side as he tried to puzzle out your protest. You’d need to spell it out for him.

“I mean,” you started, cheeks flaring with color. “That I’m probably kind of sweaty down there. We can do that another time, I still want to do other-”

He cut you off mid-sentence with a relieved chuckle moving toward you once more. “That’s what you’re worried about? I thought you’d changed your mind.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he silenced you with a dizzying kiss, making you forget what you were going to say entirely.

“I’ve been thinking about you for too long,” he whispered, lips moving down your cheek and toward your ear to finish his thought. “Do you really think I’m going to let a little perspiration stop me?”

With that he slid one hand to the waistband of your shorts, pressing his palm flat against your belly. Just the very tips of his fingers dipped beneath the elastic. His eyes searched your face for any hesitation. Instead he found flushed cheeks, wide-eyed adoration, and a small nod.

He wasted no more time, pushing his hand under your shorts and panties, long middle finger immediately finding your clit and massaging it experimentally. You moaned loudly, head thrown back as he finally touched you where you’d been dreaming about. He sunk his hand down lower, fingertips just curling upward to brush at your entrance. You squirmed, hands gripping at his lapels as he leaned over you, teasing you, leaving sloppy kisses wherever his mouth could reach.

“Hiromi,” you panted, embarrassed at how tightly wound you were with so little foreplay.

Understanding the need lacing your tone, he removed his hand from your shorts, earning him a little whine of protest.

“Shhh,” he hushed you softly, lips pressing featherlight kisses to your neck as he peeled your shorts down, panties coming along for the ride. “Let me take care of you.”

He knelt before you again, taking a moment to palm his aching cock through his trousers, readjusting to give himself some kind of relief. Your knees had fallen shyly closed, afraid he might be able to see how a second heartbeat was now throbbing between your legs.

When he looked back up at you and noticed your embarrassment, he tsked quietly under his breath, bringing his palms up to the outside of your knees, caressing the skin there tenderly before moving them to your inner thighs. You provided no resistance as he pried your legs apart, enraptured by his face. He looked like he was opening a present.

His gaze fell to the sticky sheen between your thighs, pink tongue darting out involuntarily to wet his lips. He blew gently on your exposed cunt, savoring the way you twitched sensitively at the slightest stimulation. In a great show of willpower, he wrenched his eyes away from the heaven that awaited him between your thighs, focusing on your face. His breathing was shallow, hair mussed, pupils blown wide, the tips of his ears burning red.

With shaking hands, he grabbed the end of his tie, stuffing it between the fourth and fifth buttons on his shirt. You’d seen him do it countless times at lunch but you’d never thought of it in such a filthy context.

“I have never meant this more sincerely,” he began earnestly. You half expected some new confession, head dizzy with the possibilities. But his wet lips broke into a wicked grin as he finished his thought: “Itadakimasu.”

Humbly I receive.

You hadn’t finished processing the absolute filth that just came out of his mouth when his tongue met your clit. Like when he started on your nipples, his tongue was flat as it dragged slowly up your slit. You swear you’re so sensitive you can feel every ridge of every taste bud as he continues his slow lick.

And then the tip of his tongue is flicking upward, pushing your clit around in its hood. There’s no one else in the office, but you’re worried the moan you let out will reverberate off the walls for days, letting everyone know what you were doing in here with your boss.

He continues his assault with vigor. His tongue is everywhere, never staying in one place long enough to get used to it. He prods at your entrance, slipping just the tip of his tongue into your squeezing hole. Then he’s sucking your clit into his mouth, shaking his head back and forth, up and down as you come apart on the desk above him.

It’s all you can do to clutch onto his hair. He goes down to lick up the wetness creeping down, threatening to drip onto the desk, in the process catching the hooked tip of his nose on your sensitive button. One hand gripped the edge of the desk, the other holding him in place as you try not to cum immediately.

Hiromi could feel you holding back. “Don’t be stubborn,” he said, pulling away for a moment to kiss your thighs, smearing wetness all over them.

“You hurt my feelings,” you panted back. “Made me feel like I did something wrong. You’re going to have to work harder than that.”

In truth, you weren’t sure you could handle more before you imploded from pleasure. But the smirk he gave you from between your legs, the determination that hardened his eyes, they made you want to try to hold out just a little longer.

“Your wish is my command,” he said with a shrug.

His hands, which had been wrapped tenderly around your thighs as he devoured you, suddenly changed positions. He pushed one thigh open abruptly, spreading you for him even further. His other hand had come up to his mouth. He slowly put his middle and ring fingers in his mouth, withdrawing them and holding them up so you could admire the orange light reflecting off of his spit-slick fingers.

He kept his eyes fixed on yours as he lowered his fingers to your waiting pussy, burying them to the knuckle in your warmth. Your teeth sank into your lower lip, trying hard not to be the first to break eye contact. He moved his fingers in and out slowly a few times.

Suddenly he curved his fingers upward, pressing on a spongy spot that had you seeing stars. Your head shot back, eyes closed, arching into his touch. He chuckled before lowering his head again, sucking your clit into his mouth, fingers still assaulting you from the inside.

It was all too much. You tried to say his name, but all that came out was a broken cry as heat pooled in your belly. You felt like a star collapsing in on itself under its own weight, the overwhelming pleasure condensing into a single spot. And then, like all dying stars, you were reborn. The warmth spread back out to your limbs as you trembled against him, your walls clenching tightly around his fingers as he worked you through each wave of your orgasm.

When you were done, he removed his fingers, standing up to kiss you once again. His clean hand found the back of your head, urging you to taste yourself on his lips.

“I’ve never cum that hard in my life,” you panted raggedly, resting your forehead against his.

He nuzzled his nose gently against the side of yours. “Always happy to be of service.”

Having caught your breath, your hand reached down between his legs, eyebrows shooting up at the generous bulge. Experimentally, you rubbed his erection. He bucked his hips into your touch, groaning and clutching at your hips.

“It’s your turn,” you whisper seductively, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“I need to be inside you,” he said bluntly, desperation barely contained. “Please.”

“Then why are you still wearing those?”

He needed no further instruction, kicking his shoes off, along with his black pants and the underwear beneath.

“Oh my god,” you gasped involuntarily.

“What?” Hiromi asked with a frown, looking down at his exposed member. He examined it, wondering what was wrong.

“It’s… Hiromi, you’re beautiful,” you responded, eyes sparkling. Your tone was sincere, full of wonder. You felt lucky that you got to see him like that,l.

“Stop that,” he said. The sunset had now shifted to soft pink hues, making it impossible to tell if he was blushing.

“I mean it,” you insisted. You reached a hand out, taking hold of him and gently pulling him closer to you. He followed without complaint. There was a faint, wet squelch as his fat head slid against the wetness that had only grown between your legs, and you moaned in unison.

“Don’t tease,” he gasped.

You were rocking your hips shallowly, passing the sensitive underside of his tip over your clit over and over again. He bit down on the inside of his cheek hard, hoping the pain would distract him and keep him from spilling all over your mound. He couldn’t stand the embarrassment of cumming before he’d even gotten inside you.

“Need you, Hiromi. Please.” You pleaded with him as if it wasn’t your fingertips keeping him pressed against you just so, like you weren’t the one torturing both of you.

“C-condom?” He asked. Even as his hand batted yours away, lining himself up against you, his final neuron reminded him of the very real possibility of pregnancy and disease.

“I need to feel you,” you gasped. “Please. I have an IUD. I haven’t been with anyone since my last screening and it was clear. Hiromi I need you to fuck me right now, please, just-”

One second you were begging for him, the next you were so full you thought you might burst. He had seated himself inside of you in one fluid motion, his mouth and fingers having prepared the way. Even so, there was a foreign stretch, stinging and delicious, that you’d missed after all these months alone.

“Hiromi,” you whined, grabbing onto his arms. They were planted on the desk, supporting his weight as he tried to process the feeling of finally being inside of you. You looked down at where you met, the thick thatch of hair on his pelvis just pressing against your clit. You knew that if you rocked your hips just a little, you could grind on it and-

“Stop.” The word came out through gritted teeth. “Unless you want this to be over very quickly, just… give me a second.”

You warmed with pride at the reminder of what it was like to feel wanted. Maybe the light of the sinking sun had you seeing la vie en rose, but every part of Hiromi’s body showed how much he ached for you.

You saw it in the clenching muscle of his jaw, working overtime as he struggled to contain himself. You saw it in the indents in your thighs where his fingers dug in, desperate to keep a hold on you and his sanity. You saw it in his soft belly, tensing with the effort of keeping his hips still inside of you. To be so wholly desired by him after convincing yourself he hated you, it was almost better than any pleasure he could offer you.

And then he started moving his hips.

He started slowly at first, pulling out almost all the way and pushing back in. Like waves on the sea, his movements were steady and consistent. Each stroke came with a crash of hips, pleasure spreading over your bodies like fine ocean mist.

You looked up at him, kiss-bitten lips hanging wide in a soundless moan, too overwhelmed to even make a sound. Your eyes were big and wet, silently pleading with him to keep going. You spread your legs wider, bucking your hips up weakly against his, taking him even deeper.

Something in him snapped and he pushed all the way in, deeper than you even thought possible. From this position, he draped your legs over his arms, hands slipping around your back to hold you by your waist. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, holding yourself up for him. He gave your waist one last gentle squeeze before he started fucking you in earnest.

He was pistoning his hips against yours, in and out, in and out. He was only pulling back a few inches, but you were angled in such a way that every time he slammed back into you, he brushed against that sweet spot deep inside of you. He pushed a series of staccato little moans out of you, or maybe it was one long moan broken up as he drove the air from your lungs with every snap of his hips.

“Baby, I’m so close,” you whined breathlessly, one hand coming between the two of you to play with your clit, hoping to get you the rest of the way there before he finished.

“I told you to let me take care of you,” he said in faux annoyance, batting your hand away. He licked his thumb, as though you were lacking in lubrication, and lowered it, drawing tight, fast circles against your clit.

Instantly you tightened around him, sucking him in even deeper as you moaned and writhed.

“Oh god. I’m gonna cum. Please come with me, Hiromi, please. Please.” You continued to babble as you finished, just barely keeping your eyes open long enough to watch Hiromi’s face as he followed you off the cliff. He pumped deep into you several more times, spilling his seed against your cervix, twitching over and over again until he was spent.

When he could think again, he pulled you close for a kiss, barely containing a hiss at the overstimulation at the movement. You kissed him back with teeth and tongue and passion.

“Still think I hate you?” He asked as he broke away, smiling in happiness and exhaustion.

“Jury’s still out on that one,” you replied with a sniff. “I think you still have to prove to me beyond a reasonable doubt that you like me.”

“I need a short recess, but I’m happy to give you another oral argument. Plead my case a little more.” He pulled out of you, ready to kneel again and clean up the mess he made. Anything to prove to you that he was serious.

“I think the defense also needs to rest,” you laughed, wiping sweat from your brow. “Can I ask one favor, though?”

“Absolutely anything,” he replied, planting several kisses on your forehead as you giggled.

“Can you give me a ride home? I know it’s out of your way, but I don’t really want to take public transportation like this.” You gestured down to your thighs, still sticky with your combined efforts, and your shorts, which would surely show such a wet stain. You smiled up at him bashfully, working your lip nervously between your teeth.

“I was offering to lick my cum out of you and you’re worried I’m going to say no to giving you a ride home because it’s a little out of my way?” He asked with a chuckle.

“On second thought, I’ll take my chances,” you responded, blushing furiously.

“Hey, come on. Surely you don’t still have doubts after what we just did?” He leaned in close again, pressing his lips to your forehead as you burned with embarrassment.

“Everything just changed so fast,” you murmured, closing your eyes and basking in his touch. “I don’t know what we are. I don’t want you to think you owe me anything.”

“I think at the very least I owe you a ride home and a warm meal,” he began, pulling away and producing a handkerchief from the inner pocked of his suit jacket. He wiped away the worst of the mess covering your inner thighs. He let himself be selfish, savoring the sight of his cum leaking out of you for a brief moment before continuing to dress you, pulling up your underwear and shorts with a tenderness that made your stomach flip.

He stepped aside to allow you to stand, folding the handkerchief and using the clean side to (begrudgingly) wipe away the remnants of your arousal that still stuck to his fingers and face. With clean hands, he pulled up his own pants, securing the buckle before turning to ask if you were ready to go.

The question died in his throat as he appraised you. Your hair was tousled, shirt still askew, and he could see the wet spot forming between your legs where he was dripping out of you. His cock sprang back to life at a speed he hadn’t known since he was much younger.

“I was serious, you know,” he said throatily, the sultry tone causing you to freeze in place. You looked at his face, then followed his eyes between your legs where the fabric darkened with moisture. “Let me clean you up before we go.”

“Hiromi,” you chastised him unconvincingly, your sore, sensitive cunt already pulsing again between your legs, begging you to give in to this wild man’s demands.

“Fine, fine,” he said sulkily, turning away from you to regain his composure. He knew his erection wouldn’t subside, not as long as you were within ten feet of him, but he could at least get himself a little more under control. He smoothed his hair back, keeping the tremor out of his voice through sheer willpower when he spoke again. “I would like to alter the list of things I owe you, though.”

“You don’t owe me anything, you silly man. I told you that,” you laughed, swatting at his arm as you passed him on the way to the door. “But go on.”

He grabbed your arm, turning you back toward him. In the same motion, he moved forward, pushing you back against the closed door. His chest was flush against yours, his still-hard cock pressing dangerously against your belly.

“I owe you a ride home.” He kissed your forehead. “I owe you a warm meal.” He kissed your cheek, then moved his lips next to your ear. “And I owe you at least one more orgasm.” He sunk his teeth into your earlobe, relishing then whine you couldn’t keep contained.

“Absolutely filthy,” you groaned, pressing the back of your head against the door. “No use arguing with a lawyer like you, I suppose?”

“None at all, I’m afraid,” he said with a genuine smile, pressing his lips to yours one final time before opening the door, taking your hand, and pulling you toward the elevator like a giddy schoolboy.

[gooobraghhh]

@int0xpet

Someone got a taste of my attention and is desperate for more.

Do you do anything besides make yourself stupid by smoking and than paw at yourself while reading my blog. It’s a miracle you have the mental capability to type these asks let alone type the name of my blog into your search bar.

You want to help me around the house but I’m more convinced you’d just brainlessly hump everything.

Here’s a command you can follow. Read the instructions I posted properly and don’t lose count this time. I even tagged it separately in my featured tags so it should be really simple for you to wrap your head around.

If you’re this bothersome drugged out of your mind I can’t imagine you sober. So maybe it’s good you keep yourself brainless and pliable. Now be a good pup a listen, even if that means rereading this post a few times