#and that having thumbs actually made me capable

[wolfinmyribcage]

[feral4daryl]

need a part 2 of sweet scent with pervy daryl trying to explain it to you but you couldn't get it cuz you'd never done anything like it so he says he's gonna show you how good it feels and has to muffle your screams so no one in the house hears you as his cock practically splits your tiny cunt in half and he uses his thumb to rub ur clit to try and make u relax.........

I'm crazy but I'm free

masterlist and other infos || MDNI

sweet scent pt2.

perv!daryl x innocent!fem!reader

summary: after getting caught sniffing your panties by you, daryl persuades you into giving your precious virginity away to him while your dad's just in the next room.

warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl's is in late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18 [or older, it's up to you]), 18+ smut, praising, dubcon? (reader lacks enthusiastic consent at first and daryl has to do some convincing), panty gagging, p-in-v, blowjobs, cunnilingus, masturbation, manipulation, petnames, daddy kink, orgasm denial, mentions of dumbification, mentions of degradation.

word count: 6.2k

a/n: the following content contains some extreme fetishes and kinks that some readers might find disturbing, so if you're not comfortable with any of those, please do not proceed. click here to read part 1.

<previous chapter>

[...] His movements got slower until they stopped and he let go of his now sensitive cock. He sighed after catching his breath. he was left with that afterglow and the feeling that he made a huge mistake. suddenly, he felt dirty like before. He opened his eyes slowly, removing your panties from his face and putting them in his pockets. yeah, he knew it was wrong, but he was still planning to keep them for later.

Then, when he averted his gaze to the mirror on his side, he saw...

You. Standing on the doorframe with a shocked look on your face.

"U-uncle Daryl?"

---

Shit.

You definitely weren't what Daryl expected to see when he opened his eyes, the remains of his freshly busted nut all over his hand and his cock out, fully on display. For a good 5 seconds, he just freezed, completely unsure of what to do. But then, it hit him. He freaked out.

His eyes got as big as they possibly could and he immediately pulled his cock in his pants back again, clumsily trying to regain his composure, taking a little longer than usual due to his nervousness. Meanwhile, you just stood there with an unreadable expression. You didn't look exactly shocked, or angry, or anything like it. You looked strangely curious, with your head slightly tilted to the side.

Daryl shook his hand to get rid of some of his essence that was still sticking to it and then rubbed it on the side of his pants, on the hip area. Still not capable of looking you in the eyes, he quickly glanced at your frame and finally broke the awkward silence.

“Y/N? W-What'r'ya doin' here?” Stuttering was very unusual for Daryl, considering that although he was a man of very few words, he was always very direct and precise with them. Maybe playing it cool as if you hadn't just caught him in the act was the way out of that unpleasant situation.

“Well...” You let out a small chuckle and took a step closer to him. “This is my room.” His awkward smile immediately faded away.

“Oh, uh... I was jus’...” He looked around the room, searching for anything to use as an excuse for being there. But before he could start, you interrupted him.

“I didn't leave with the others, daddy told me to stay here to take care of you. He's in his room.” Your sweet girly voice had a way of calming Daryl, making him a bit more relaxed despite the current scenario and the shame he was feeling. But at the same time, just hearing you enunciate that one little word 'daddy' had him taking a deep breath to control his urges and not have another erection right there and then. You said that so innocently, because, well, it was in fact innocent since you referred to your actual father Hershel, but still, Daryl's twisted mind made it sound suggestive in his head.

“Take care'a me?” He pondered. Daryl wondered why your reaction was so calm considering what you had just witnessed. Maybe you didn't see much.

“You know, somebody's gotta change your bandage.” You smiled and pointed to his head that still had the bandage around it. “Actually, can you step to the side a bit? So I can...” You gestured to the dressing table behind him. He didn't say anything and just did as you said, moving to the side a little so you could approach the piece of furniture. In that moment, Daryl was the definition of what they call a standoffish.

“I was expecting to find you in your bed, resting. As you should, uncle Daryl.” Your voice carried a hint of playfulness along with a sincere worry. But the way you called him uncle for the second time that day gave him mixed sensations. He wasn't sure if he was aroused or weirded out by it. Or both.

You extended your hand, meaning to pull the drawer open to collect the items needed to change his bandage, which included the gauze, antiseptic wipes, medical tapes, sterile dressing and other kinds of medical stuff your dad had taught you how to handle, but you had to stop your hand midway when you noticed a white slimy thing dripping down the furnishing.

He followed your eyes, noticing how stared at the liquid. The farmer's sweet young daughter had just noticed the results of Daryl's arousal while it coated the dressing table. His mind started rushing with apprehension, you could tell your dad and everyone else how much of a perverted old man Daryl actually was, and he could be kicked out of the group, being left alone in the woods to fend for himself. It's not that he wasn't capable to make it on his own, but his family was important to him, he didn't wanna lose them over that type of thing that could change the way they looked at him forever.

“What's this?” You bended your knees a little, leaning forward and squinting your eyes to take a better look at the unknown substance. Now, you had completely forgotten the reason why you came into that room that was changing his bandage. Daryl lifted one of his eyebrows out of confusion. Did you really not know what that was? If that was the case, it kind of made sense.

Of course. Living on a farm far from the city, you had a close-knit relationship with your family in a way that they were pretty much all the people you would interact with. You had never had boyfriends, or kissed, or anything remotely romantic like that due to your dad's overprotectiveness, after all, you were his youngest daughter. All you knew about the existence of sexual stuff had been taught by him, when he mainly warned you about the terrible consequences of that type of action and that you had to stay innocent.

You didn't really know what he meant by all that, since he was very vague in his descriptions about sex. Hershel just used to say that there were certain areas on your body that you should never let a boy get near and you knew better than to disobey your father's orders, being aware that he always knew what was best for you. Not even your own hands had ever darted down your body to meet those spots more than once or twice before quickly pulling away. You wanted to remain innocent, whatever that meant.

But Daryl was the observant type, and he quickly caught up that you knew nothing about that type of thing. He knew you had always lived in that farm, away from the perverted hands of boys your age (or older like him) so connecting the dots wasn't tricky at all.

Oh, the things he could show you. That thought alone brought a somewhat creepy smirk to Daryl's face as he stared into the wall, contemplating the opportunity he had in hands to finally have his way with you. He knew he still had to be careful though.

“Daryl?” Your voice snapped him out of his trance. You turned your head to look at him before turning your entire body to face him. Your gaze was curious.

“This?” He motioned with his chin towards the dripping substance on the piece of furniture, looking out of place. “Ya don'... know wha' it is?” He double checked, wanting to make sure you were actually unfamiliar erotic nature of what you saw him doing.

“Well, I saw where it came from.” You revealed, not sounding accusing at all, just simply stating a fact.

“...How long 've ya been watchin' me?” He asked with an almost audible gulp. Though he was considerably excited about teaching you all that new stuff, he was still unsure if he should or not. It'd been so long since his last sexual interaction with someone else that he could barely remember it. And doing it with the daughter of the man that gave him a roof to put over his head in times like these? That was risky.

“A while.” You stated. Now, Daryl could notice how you started staring at his crotch area with a renewed sense of interest. That meant you had definitely seen his dick despite his efforts to hide it when he first got caught just moments ago. He wondered if you knew what it was or its purpose.

You stepped even closer to him and he couldn't help but step back slightly. “I've never seen somebody pee like that. Are you... Sick?” You raise an eyebrow. “The bathroom's just in the next room, you know...” Your worried tone was awfully adorable to Daryl. And well, he was indeed sick, but not in the way you meant it. Nonetheless, the amusing way you mistook his semen for urine made him share a light chuckle.

“Nah, tha's... Tha's not piss.” He bluntly let out. You walked across your room and over to your bed, sitting on its edge. Daryl followed you until he was standing in front of you. He crossed his arms.

“How so?” You tilted your head to the side with a sincere curiosity displayed on your face. You had seen the way he rubbed that one thing of his that you weren't sure how it worked until that slimy liquid started oozing out of it, deeply stimulating your curiosity.

“Ya sure ya wanna know?” His tone sounded more dark and his voice turned hoarser, however, that didn't seem to faze you. You nodded frantically. “Aigh', i'll show ya.” Once again, a smirk creeped onto his face. Your eyes were all sparkly as you attentively listened to him. “Sometimes people touch themselves ta feel good, ya know?” You shrugged, not really sure of what he was talking about.

As he spoke, he took light and slow steps towards you, like a predator preparing to hunt its prey, until his knees was almost touching yours. “Ya ever touched yerself, darlin'?” Despite the raspiness in his voice, it was now rather calm, with a surge of some sweetness to it.

“Like how?” You asked.

“Like here...” He extended his hand with a gentle movement, his finger tracing a path from the valley between your breasts down to your bellybutton. The slightly ticklish sensation made you flinch a little. Then, his finger continued making its way down to your lower belly, stopping inches above your clothed pussy. “'N here...”

Your breath hissed, and you started remembering how your dad told you those parts were sacred and shouldn't be touched by anyone, no matter who. The uncertainty was obvious in your face as you discreetly pushed his hand away. “Uncle Daryl...”

“Ya can call me jus' Daryl, sweetheart. 'M yer friend, remember?” He tried his best to sound convincing.

“Yes, Daryl...” You corrected yourself with an awkward chuckle. “I... I think I shouldn't.” You avert your gaze from his.

“Why not? Dontcha wanna know wha' it's like?” He leaned in a little closer, resting his hands on your thighs. You made a motion to try to push him away again, but he insisted on his touch. “Don' be scared, doll. 'M not gunna hurt ya. Quite the opposite.” He smirked while practically whispering the last part, making sure to sound extra coaxing.

You weren't really sure what you were afraid of, exactly. You just knew that you wanted to make your father happy and proud of you, since he'd always been so caring towards you and your family. In the end, you just wanted daddy's approval.

“I'm... I'm not sure. I don't know, it doesn't feel right.” You confessed, your voice filled with worry. Daryl knew how to be intimidating when he wanted to.

“'S okay, doll.” He spoke the way one would speak to a puppy. And giving you no time to protest, he used one of his hands to tug at the hem of your white tank top and pulled it up in one go, revealing your bare tits to him. He bit his lips, noticing you weren't wearing a bra. As quick as he did so, you felt so ashamed of your sudden nudity that you lifted your arms up to try to cover yourself up from his hungry eyes. “D-Daryl...”

“Shhhh...” He shushed you against your ear, making shivers run down your spine. Although you were uncertain, the way he spoke to you made certain parts of your body warm up, an unusual sensation for you. “Ya got such pretty tits... Ya shouldn't hide 'em away from me.” As he said that, he gently grabbed one of your breasts, giving it the slightest squeeze not to startle you. You couldn't help but let out a small squeak at the unfamiliar sensation. Weirdly enough, it felt good in a way you had never felt before.

“Ya like tha'?” He whispered. “It's nice, but... Daddy wouldn't like that. I just wanna make daddy happy.” You just wanted to be a good girl. Perhaps, you could find a different way of doing that.

“Yeah?” He muttered practically to himself as he got an idea. “Well, I can be yer daddy for today. Like tha', ya could make yer daddy happy in a way. Yer jus' gotta lemme lead ya, aigh'?” He didn't feel guilty in the slightest for making you engage in one of his twisted fetishes while you were barely aware of it.

“H-huh?" You were uncertain about the reason behind his suggestion.

“Ya can pretend 'm yer daddy.” He continued playing her mind. You weren't really sure if you liked the idea to depict him as your old man, but you tried to convince yourself to play along.

“But... What will he think of me when he finds out?” You fidgeted with your fingers. Meanwhile his grip on your breast continued to intimidate you.

“He don' have ta know. C'mon, dontcha wanna make daddy happy?” He conveyed in a hush against your ear, his thumb now grazing your sensitive nipple, making you feel that one funny sensation again. You couldn't help but lean into his touch.

You closed your eyes, darting your tongue out to lick your lips. The nervousness in you due to the newness of it all made your lips dry. The way Daryl was making you feel was curious, and you just wanted more of it. He took your silence as a confirmation.

“Good girl.” He cooed before capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, very gently sucking on it. The feeling made you arch your back instantly.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

You just wanted to be a good girl. And if following Daryl's lead was a way to do it, you were all in for it. Your senses awakened as a cascade of unfamiliar yet electrifying sensations coursed through you, a dance of pleasure that tingled on your skin. In that moment, a subtle warmth enveloped you, as if you had discovered a secret realm of bliss previously unknown.

You reached for his head, the feeling of your delicate fingernails scratching against his scalp and pulling him closer sent tingling sensations all over his body. Instinctively, you slightly opened your legs at the pleasure and that drew a smirk onto Daryl's face.

“Eager fer daddy, huh?” The way he referred to himself like that made a faint blush spread across your cheeks, although you couldn't wrap your head around the reason why. It felt so wrong but so right at the same time.

“I need ya to trust me, 'kay?” He said as he pulled your shorts down and then tossed them aside, revealing your white cotton panties. Once again, you felt to urge to hide, not knowing how to deal with someone else seeing you naked for the first time. But before your legs could involuntarily close, his big hands groped your thighs, keeping them spread apart. “'S okay, sunshine.” He practically manhandled you, gently but firmly pushing your body downward so you rested you back on the mattress.

The new position made you feel strangely vulnerable, but it wasn't exactly a bad feeling. Your doe eyes had a mix of unsureness and curiosity as they meet his. Sensing the mixed sensations within you, Daryl leaned in to place a small peck on your plush lips, aiming to make you more comfortable. The feeling of his rough lips against your soft ones so suddenly almost made you flinch, but they felt rather inviting. As he pulled back, a confident smirk could be seen displayed on his face.

The archer's rugged fingers traveled their way down your body once again until they found the soft fabric of your panties, making your breath hiss. He brushed his index and middle fingers against your clothed pussy lips. Just with that, the dampness was so obvious that a small wet spot could be seen on the cotton fabric right where your slit would be. He dragged his fingers across it until they reached your clit.

“This lil spot righ' here...” He kept his hand there. “...is magical." For now, he just added a small pressure, testing the waters and watching close to your reaction, but that was enough to draw a whimper from you, the unknown sensation making you grasp his forearm. It indeed felt magical. You bit your lips and though you couldn't see it, Daryl shared a satisfied smile at the way he was able to get you all hot and bothered with just a simple touch.

Your legs squirmed a bit and he took that as a good sign, so he continued. Now, he started slowly rubbing your clit in circular motions over the fabric of your panties. Your back arched again, and you accidentally let out a dangerously loud moan.

“Nuh-uh.” He brought his other index finger to his lips, gesturing for you to be quiet. “Ya gotta be quiet, ya hear me?” His tone was mostly reprimanding, which strangely excited you. You nodded, enjoying the authority he guided you with through those new sensations. You had touched yourself there before, but never like that. The sensation always felt somewhat wrong, but with Daryl, it was totally different.

You were still kind of upset at yourself for disobeying your dad, but the way Daryl worked his fingers so skillfully had you seeing stars. You never thought you'd be handing out your innocence for some old redneck you met just a while ago, but there you were, completely given to him.

In the beginning, Daryl used to always kind of avoid you, despite your attempts of trying to get to know at least a little bit about the mysterious archer. He knew that deep down, those desires towards you were always there, since the very first time he saw you. At first, he tried to brush them off, but now, all he wanted was to be the one to feel your tight virgin cunt for the first time.

In a swift motion, his big hands tugged at the hem of your underwear. “Up.” He ordered, gesturing for you to lift your hips so he could pull them down. You didn't argue at all and promptly did as he said, reveling in the control he had over you. It was like he dominated your weak mind. “Good girl.” He cooed once again. Oh, if only he knew what that did to your little inexperienced pussy.

After tossing the piece of fabric aside, he reached for you knees, gently spreading them apart. The sight of your glistening bare cunt had his mind rushing through all the things he could do to it. He wondered if he would be able to hold himself back and be gentle or if he would end up losing control. After all, he hadn't done anything like that in such a long time that his whole body was aching for it. He stared at it in an almost scary way, you'd never seen his eyes so hungry.

If his cock hadn't awaken until that moment, now it was hard as a fucking rock. He had to really fight the urges to pull it out his pants and dick you down right there and then, but he knew he had to take it easy on you at least for now and get you nice and ready for him, even though you were already visibly dripping wet.

“Is this all fer me?” His tone was almost mocking. You weren't sure what he meant by that, not fully understanding the concept of natural lubrication, but you just nodded with your eyes closed. Something about being in that position felt so right, so freeing that it had you wondering why you never did that before, and why you were so afraid of trying it in the first place.

Daryl's hands sensually traced their way down your body, exploring your every contour until they reached the back of your thighs, pushing them back until your wet cunt was all over his face. He tried his best to control himself, but his own arousal was practically taking over his mind, so he buried his face on it like a starving man. As soon as his wet tongue made contact with your sensitive little clit and he lapped at your abundant juices, you immediately gasped, gaining a look of disapproval from Daryl.

“I warned ya.” That was all he mumbled before taking your panties he had just took off you and sticking them into your mouth almost aggressively. You could taste yourself on the white fabric, and although it felt strange, it turned you on even more. Now, your little sounds were muffled by the piece of clothing as he resumed eating you out, flicking his tongue on hour clit and burying it between your folds. You never thought a feeling like that could actually exist as you experienced that overwhelming rush of pleasure, a novel sensation coursing through you sending shivers down your spine as a delightful warmth enveloped your entire being. You tried your best to hold back your sounds since your dad was home and could hear you if you slipped, but Daryl's skilled tongue and lips made it an extremely difficult task, even with your panties stuck in your mouth.

He continued working your clit with his mouth, and maybe a little sooner than it should, a tingling sensation forming in your lower belly caught your attention. Daryl noticed the obvious shift in your demeanor and took the panties out of your mouth so you could speak. “D-daddy...” You experimented the honorific he had previously suggested. “I-I feel funny.” You whimpered, squirming a bit harder than before as it started feeling as if you were gonna burst at any moment. Daryl smirked against your skin and gave your pussy a last peck before pulling away, making you whine in disapproval. It had only been seconds but you immediately missed the sensation. You craved it.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” He said. Not yet what, you wondered. But you still wanted to be good for him, so you nodded as the good girl you were. You couldn't think of anything you wouldn't do for him in that moment, considering how desperate you were to feel that pleasure again.

Your curious eyes followed his hands as they reached to unbuckled his own belt, setting it aside. He undid his pants and pulled them down just enough to reveal his boxer briefs to you. There. There was the place where you saw that sticky white thing shooting out from. Now, the excitement in you was unbearable as you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch his movements closely. Your eyes visibly lighted up and that didn't go unnoticed by Daryl.

“Yer gunna love this, lil' girl.” He bit his lips. Something was very obviously bulging in his boxers, which you found odd since it didn't seem to look so obvious when it was in his pants even though now it looked so big. Either way, you were completely drawn to it. You glued your eyes to his crotch while he pulled his underwear down.

You had heard about it, but you had never actually seen one of those before. In the aftermath of the apocalypse, his pubic hair had grown wild and untamed, a reflection of the makeshift survival and the absence of the once routine grooming practices. Not that he used to care a lot about that kind of thing before the outbreak. In a way, you thought it looked charming, suiting his rugged looks and personality.

You could feel your mouth starting to water at the sight of his cock standing tall and proud in front of you. Since the archer had touched his mouth to your cunt, you wondered if you could do the same to him in that same area on his body. As if he could smell your thoughts, he brought a hand to your head, gently pulling you closer to his crotch while he held it by the base.

“Ya wanna have a taste?” He slyly suggested and chuckled at your frantic nodding. Leaning closer to it, you felt the musky and raw scent that emanated from it, which made you even more drawn to the possibilities that ran through your mind. But at the same time, you didn't know what to do or how to handle it.

Bringing his hand to his mouth, he collected some saliva from it and rubbed the wetness on the tip of his cock to lubricate it. “Gimme yer hand.” He reached out his hand, and instantly you complied, allowing him to direct it towards his cock. He enveloped your hand around it, keeping his atop yours, slowly starting to move it up and down. It felt warm and hard against your soft fingers, and the way he threw his head back and quietly groaned made your stomach churn with butterflies. “Fuck baby, tha' feels good.” He had to whisper due to the dangerous presence of your dad in the house threatening to put your little playtime to an end.

You smiled proudly at yourself. You liked the way he sounded and you wished to draw more of those grunts from his lips. And Daryl, being just as eager as you, removed your hand from his length, holding it by the base. His other hand found its way to the back of your head, his touch almost feeling impatient as he pulled you closer to his cock. “Open yer mouth.” He didn't have to tell you twice. Therefore, he guided his swollen tip to your awaiting tongue, smearing his salty pre-cum all over it. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to hold back any compromising sounds.

Your lips instinctively closed around his tip, trying to mimic the way he sucked on your clit, aiming to make him feel as good as he previously did to you. The act not only gave him pleasure, but it also brought you a deep sense of satisfaction, making you hum against his sensitive skin. The vibrations from your vocal chords sent a chill through his body and he couldn't hold back this time, the warm sensation of your mouth being so tempting and promising that he pushed his hips forward a bit too much, causing it to hit the back of your throat and you to gag on it.

He immediately retracted his body, removing his cock from the velvety confines of your mouth. Your eyes got a little watery but you smiled either way. “Sorry, princess.” He said with a hint of awkwardness in his voice.

“It's fine, I liked it.” You confess, looking up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, sitting at the edge of the bed while he stood in front of you. Your innocent expression contrasting with the dirty nature of your encounter made him impossibly hornier, and he didn't feel like waiting any longer. “Fuck” He almost whined. Eagerness to feel you wrapping around him filled his body, so he grabbed you by the arms, not too rough so he wouldn't hurt you, and put on your feet against the pink wall of your room.

He brought a hand to your head, pressing it against the wall. You gasped a little at his roughness but soon you felt him brushing the tip of his cock on your slicky slit and clit. “'S gunna feel good, I promise.” He mumbled against your ear, making your body hair stand on end. The sensation had you biting your lips to try and not make any sounds, but your efforts were proven useless as you felt the pressure of his tip carefully going in your cunt, causing a burning sensation and you accidentally let out a loud cry.

Daryl's hand went immediately to your mouth, forcefully pressing his palm against your lips to muffle your sounds, your dad shouldn't hear Daryl using his sweet daughter in his own home after all. “Shhh, shhh.” He shushed you, resting his chin on the top of your head for a moment. You wrapped around him so tight even though he only had his tip in yet that he couldn't restrain himself from pushing his hips forward a little more, intensifying the burning sensation while he stretched your virgin cunt out.

“'S okay, ya can take it.” In that moment, you were confused at why he was making you feel so good just a moment ago, and now he's ripping your little pussy apart. But even though it hurt, it was somewhat pleasant to feel so full in such a new way, so you stuck your ass towards him, inviting him in. While still keeping his hand pressed on your mouth, he brought his other one to your hips, gripping them a little too tight.

Without warnings, he buried his entire length in you in one swift motion, filling you up to the brim and worsening the burning to a whole new level. The only thing that kept you from letting out a scream at the sudden invasion was his hand muffling your pathetic sounds and the fact that you'd be in deep trouble if your dad found out about that, but even so, Daryl couldn't help but quietly grunt at the intense sensation. He didn't know he missed fucking a warm cunt so badly until he was completely inhumed inside you. “Good girl. Yer being so good fer daddy.” He praised you. His words had an immediate effect on you, making your pussy even wetter, if that was even possible.

You didn't even care if it hurt or not anymore, so you just stood there, caught in the paradox of sensation — a mix of pain and pleasure etched across your face. The twinge felt like a sweet ache, and yet, an irresistible allure pulled her deeper into the experience, as if the discomfort held a hidden charm that she couldn't resist exploring.

Despite the pain, you found herself oddly drawn to the sensation, craving more as if the discomfort carried an inexplicable appeal that kept you coming back for another taste. So you slightly wiggled your ass against Daryl's body, moving his cock a little inside you. The feeling of being stretched out had you desperate for more.

Daryl's warm breath hit your ear as he let out a light-hearted laugh at your reaction, sending delicious goosebumps all over your body. His hips started going back and forth to meet yours in a sensual dance. He tried to be gentle at first, but your virgin cunt was just so wet and warm that he couldn't help it but succumb to his primal desires. “Jus' like tha', princess. Take this fat cock.” He whispered loud enough so only you could hear, making you weak in the knees.

His calloused hand let go of your hips to find your clit, starting to rub it with just the right pressure to make you squirm under his touch. The mixed sensations of intense pleasure and pain confusing your brain, making you melt like putty in his hands. Overwhelming waves of pleasure surged through you, leaving your head blissfully empty as if every thought had been swept away by the sheer intensity of the sensation, which was exactly what Daryl wanted, to turn you into a brainless little fucktoy for him.

If a few months ago somebody told you that you'd be letting some perverted older man take advantage of you in your own room, you would've laughed right in their face. Giving your innocence away to anybody used to feel like such a distant reality, and now there you were, pressed against the wall by Daryl's sweaty body while he mercilessly pounded your no longer virgin cunt, making you experience the most pleasurable pain you could ever feel.

As he continued bucking his hips like a desperate animal, you drooled against his hand, your brain now reduced to putty due to the overpowering sensation that dominated your every sense. “Nngh...” Your muffled moans stirred an even deeper desire within Daryl, turning him as primal as one could be. Your body language made it obvious that you were close to your orgasm, and this time, he didn't plan to deny you of it.

But you had never experienced something like that. You didn't know pleasure could get so extreme that could made you burst, so as the sensation built and grew stronger, it also made you unsure about where it was taking you, and you tried to fight the feeling. Daryl's skilled fingers working your clit only threw you even closer to the edge and you felt like your legs could fail at any moment.

Noticing the shift in your demeanor, he muttered against your ear. “Jus' let it go, baby. Trust me, don' hold it.” His tone was strangely sweet considering what you were both up to, but his encouraging words relaxed you a little, and as he intensified the rubbing on your clit, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold it in not even if you wanted to, whatever it was.

Then, it hit you. An entirely unfamiliar and intense sensation washed over you, catching you off guard. It felt like uncharted emotional and physical territory, leaving you completely stunned, wide-eyed, and grappling with the unexpected intensity of the experience, something that almost made you mad at your dad from convincing you of staying away from it for so long.

Daryl had to intensify the pressure of his hand against your lips, but even so, he wasn't able to muffle your cries completely as your body convulsed and you were sure you lost consciousness for a few seconds. “Good girl, cum for me.” You didn't know what that word meant, but considering the situation, you understood that it probably had something to do with the new type of pleasure you just experienced.

As the orgasmic sensation slowly faded away, it was replaced with an even more overwhelming feeling of overstimulation. You squirmed even harder and you swore you could cry if he continued using your cunt like that, not giving you any breaks to catch your breath. You'd been turned into a whimpering and drooling mess, a total slut for his cock. You wanted him to have his way with you and you knew that if he wanted to, you'd let him fuck you all day without arguing.

The intense clenching of your tight pussy around his length initiated his own orgasm, and now it was his turn to experience the compelling feeling of being right on the edge of pleasure. “Fuck, turn 'round." He desperately voiced, but he didn't even waited for you before decisively grasping your shoulders, swiftly turning you to face him. As he did so, he removed his cock from inside you and stroked it hard and fast for a few seconds with just enough pressure to make himself burst.

Your mesmerized eyes watched as the pleasure took over his body. And now, it all made sense as he started shooting his load aiming right on your bare pussy, just as he was doing earlier today when you first caught him in your room. The warm sticky substance coated your cunt and it was so much that it felt like it would never end, leaving you astonished. You couldn't help but smile at the sight before you.

You two stared into each other's eyes while desperately trying to catch your breaths, sharing a small chuckle and satisfied smiles. He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead and now, you knew who to come up to when you feel that funny feeling in your lower belly again. You knew Daryl had what it took to take care of your needs.

Without saying anything else, he pulled his briefs and pants back up again, adjusting his clothes. Then, he reached for his pocket, pulling out those panties he had stolen earlier and putting them on you again, leaving his load smeary and sticking to your skin. “Leave it there.” He hoarsely voiced, ordering you to walk around with his cum inside your clothes while no one else knew of it except the both of you.

“And these...” He walked over to your bed and bended his knees a little so he could reach for the white cotton panties he had tossed aside right before railing you and put them in his pocket.

“...'M gunna keep these fer later.”

a/n: omg guys the first part of sweet scent got over 1.1k notes and that's like??? insane??? tysm for all ur support, that's crazy. it was so much fun to write both parts and i'm so thankful if you read it this far!! i hope y'all have a great and happy holidays xx

taglist: @imagininghim , @murdadixon , @epilepsywarrior8787 , @darklydixon

[innerfare]

Teasing or Overstimulating - Part 3

Summary: Do they tease you or overstimulate you?

Characters: Shanks, Beckman, Crocodile

Genre: pure smut

CW: NSFW // oral sex, shameless dirty talk, sex toys, Big Dick Beckman, low-key Daddy Shanks, mean dom Crocodile

——— 

Shanks: 

He claims overstimulation is his love language and he’s doing you a favor by working you over every chance he gets, but it’s actually selfish- he’s not just showing you he loves you, he’s satisfying himself, his own desire to see your chest heaving and legs shaking and pretty pussy flushed from his abuse. 

“Come on, love, open wide for me. I’m just trying to help you out. There you go, that’s my girl. Now, hold still.”  

Most mornings, you find him with his face between your legs, his hot tongue worming its way into your tight hole (still aching from being pounded with his cock the night before); if your inner thighs are chafed from his stubble, he’ll happily bend you over and lap at your cunt from behind, smacking your ass when he wants to hear you yelp and whine, never content until you cum at least once or twice. And that’s just in the morning. 

Plenty of afternoons, he’ll kidnap you to jam his fingers in your cunt and thumb your clit, his mouth never leaving your sore nipples. On particularly slow days, he’ll tie you up and draw several orgasms out of you with a vibrator, maybe letting you suck his cock. He doesn’t fuck you until nighttime, though, and by the time he does, you’re absolutely aching, but it just feels so good you’re begging him not to stop, which he never will.  

Beckman: 

He doesn’t even have to try overstimulating you in order to do it. He’s a big man with an ever bigger cock and balls, and warming you up takes work, usually an orgasm or two. On top of that, he’s a man who enjoys taking his time; he could spend half the night just kissing you and sucking on your pretty little nipples. 

“I know your nipples are sore, but daddy needs to get you ready for his big cock. Just take a little more. I know you can do it.” 

By the time you have a thin sheen of sweat on your skin, he’s only just pulling out his throbbing cock, and he tends to last a good while, so you’d better be prepared to lose feeling in your legs. Gentle dom that he is, though, he doesn’t just fuck you into the mattress but rather talks you through it, telling you that you’re doing such a good job for him and that he just knows you can take a little more before daddy cums inside you. 

“That’s my girl. That’s it. Deep breaths. You can do it.” 

And if he really wants to overstimulate you, he’ll hold a vibrator to your clit while he snaps his hips into yours, the stretch of his big cock and clench of your tight cunt so overwhelming for you he’s forced to clamp a hand over your mouth before the crew hears (as if they haven’t already). 

Crocodile: 

He doesn’t think of it as teasing, per se, just giving you something to focus on while he’s busy, needy little thing that you are, or else making you work for his cock. 

“Just shut up and try not to cum. I’m busy.” 

He’s not opposed to thumbing your clit, but he often needs his one hand for things more important, so he prefers sex toys to get the job done. Sometimes, he’ll hold you in his lap and make you press a vibrator to your clit while he works at his desk, grabbing hold of your wrist and pulling it back when he feels you start to tense up because he doesn’t think you deserve an orgasm yet. Other times, he’ll tie you up in his bed and leave a remote control vibrator between your legs while he sits back, smokes a cigar, and enjoys the view, switching the vibrator off when you start to whine. 

“Listen to you begging. You’re making a fool out of yourself, you know. This is why you don’t get to decide when to cum. You’re clearly not capable of making those sorts of decisions for yourself.” 

On a few occasions, he’s made you sit on his desk and finger yourself, telling you off for doing it wrong and being such a needy little slut the entire time. He’s definitely guilty of not even letting you cum when he finally shoves his big cock into you, and especially of holding out his hand and making you thank him while you do all the work of grinding your aching cunt against his thick fingers. 

One thing that doesn’t feature in his teasing, though, is oral. On the late nights or very early mornings he climbs into bed and decides he’d like to lick your sweet pussy, he usually ends up overstimulating you because he gets so lost in the taste of your creamy cunt and the sound of you whining and whimpering for his tongue. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[peanutpinet]

You Are Loved - Sylus x Insecure Fem Reader

Prompt: “I’m going to prove everyone who made you feel like you don’t deserve love that they’ve been so, so fucking wrong. And I’m going to make you understand that you deserve so much more than you realise.”

Prompt is from: @dumplingsjinson

Blurb: When you thought that you were not worthy of love and are always worried that you would get hurt in the process, Sylus proves you wrong

Trope: I don't really believe in love girl x let me show you what love is guy

Warnings: Light angst, insecurity, soft and loving Sylus, reassurance

Disclaimer: I do not own the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest and credits go to the images' respective owners.

“You’re dozing off again, is something wrong, sweetie?” Sylus pointed out as the two of you had dinner together

You immediately snapped out and looked at Sylus, reassuring him. “No, no. Just work…yeah” you went back to look at your food and started to pick at it which didn’t go unnoticed by Sylus

Sylus let out a sigh and used his hands to stop you from picking at your food. Instead, he interlaced his fingers with you, rubbing your knuckles. “Hey, tell me. What’s wrong? What’s in that pretty head of yours, hmm?”

You honestly didn’t want to admit what you were thinking. It was silly and you were being insecure because Sylus was your first-ever boyfriend. Sure, you were aware with love, the idea of dating from the books you read, movies you watched but when you’re the one who’s actually going on a date with your boyfriend, it just feels off.

“Hey…” Sylus called out to you again, rubbing your knuckles and getting your attention

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to doze off again. Umm, what were you saying?” I asked, trying to get into the conversation

“Something is on your mind. What’s wrong, sweetie?” Sylus asked, gripping my smaller hand tenderly but firmly at the same time while you tried to avoid his gaze because you knew that if you did, you would actually give in and admit what was wrong

“Sweetie?” Sylus called you again, his grip a bit tighter but not too much that it would hurt you. “Tell me, why are you picking on your food, avoiding eye contact with me? Did I do something wrong?” Sylus asked as you immediately shook your head

“Then? What is it, sweetie? Do I really need to use my aether core and look into your mind? You know that I can do it but I’m not out of respect for your boundaries” Sylus added on, getting a little frustrated on why you wouldn’t tell him what was going on

“Sometimes I just wonder…” you started, trying to unscramble the words to create a concrete sentence while Sylus rubbed your knuckles with his thumb, reassuring you that he’s not going to judge you. “Go on, sweetie. What do you often wonder, hmm?”

You took another deep breath, not wanting to meet Sylus’ eyes as you spoke. “I just wonder…what made you pursue me and to keep going until now? You know I’ve never been in a relationship and I’m not someone who seems to be capable for long-term because of trust issues and all”

Hearing your reply, Sylus gripped your hand a bit more comforting instead of tight and rough. “Sweetie, look at me”

You still tried to avoid Sylus’ gaze until you felt his large hands creep under your chin and gently turn your head so that you were facing him. Instead of looking annoyed or angry like he normally does when he’s out, his eyes showed a softer, more vulnerable side of him. One that you almost never saw.

“Is there truly a need for a reason to pursue you other than the fact that I adore you?” Sylus asked, his hand on your chin rubbing your face gently and lovingly to the point you almost leaned into his touch but held back and shook your head. “It’s just weird. You’re practically the most powerful man in the N109 zone, you’re wealthy, and handsome might I add. Why pursue me when you can have many other gorgeous and much more successful girls?”

Sylus felt his heart swell when he heard you put out all the compliments to him. “You really think I’m that handsome?” Sylus smirked as you scoffed, trying to pull your hand but Sylus being Sylus, he wasn’t going to let you go that easily

“Seriously? That’s the only thing you caught when I talk?” Sylus chuckled at your sudden outburst, finding it cute. “I assure you, sweetie, it’s not. But it’s not everyday you call me handsome though I know you thought about it. But for real sweetie, what does all my trait have to do with wanting to pursue you? Why should I pursue other girls when there’s you”

“That’s the thing, Sy. I’m just me. I’m no one special. I’m not even that pretty, not that smart, not a business owner or anything outstanding” you argued back

“But you see, I don’t care about you being someone famous, special, or outstanding. I adore you because you’re you. You’re special to me whether you see yourself as special or not. I adore the way you ramble on about the little things of life. I adore how kind, gentle, and caring you are. I adore how raw and real you are with me. You don’t try to hide your bad side or be fake. You’re always yourself with me and that’s what I adore. You” Sylus reassured you, bringing your hand closer to his face as he kissed each of your knuckles before rubbing them again.

“Sylus…people will talk. Well, people already talk…” you mentioned but didn’t get to continue as Sylus immediately cuts you off

“Let them talk. I don’t give a damn what they say. They can think, assume, or judge the hell they want. But I’m going to prove to everyone who made you feel like you don’t deserve love that they’ve been so, so fucking wrong. And I’m going to make you understand that you deserve so much more than you realise”

“You should know very well that I adore you. There is no love purer than mine” Sylus kissed your knuckles, making sure his lips linger on your skin a bit longer

And somehow, the gentleness of Sylus’ touch and the raw feelings he poured out today brought a sense of relief and reassurance. Bringing a new feeling for you that maybe, for once in your life, it’s okay to be selfish and allow yourself to be loved.

A/N: I hope that you all are well, here is the fic I promised where you, the girl, doesn't really believe in love and Sylus reassures you by asking you to trust him and show you what love truly is :3 xoxo, peanutpinet

[cleo-fox]

Unraveled

Summary: It was all fun and games until Loki started wearing that goddamn sweater.

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, teasing, orgasm delay, sex, vaginal fingering, godly refractory periods, kitchen sex, semi public sex, Loki in a sweater.

A/N: My explanation for this one is that I saw too many pictures of Tom Hiddleston in a sweater and it gave me thoughts.

Being an Avenger has made you pretty good at rolling with the punches. After your third or fourth encounter with some alien/wizard/android bullshit, your perspective is fundamentally altered and real life seems manageable in a way that it didn’t before. You have to call your insurance company to dispute a claim? Big deal, you’ve negotiated with terrorists; you can handle Garth from Member Services.

The thing is, having that kind of perspective means that the things that do get to you can rattle you a lot more than they should. Natasha had warned you about that, but you were riding high on the thrill of successfully conquering Blue Cross Blue Shield and you kind of got to thinking she was exaggerating.

And then the seasons started to turn and Loki started wearing that goddamn sweater.

You can recognize when someone is out of your league. When you first moved into the Tower, it had been relatively easy for you to assign Loki to that category: he was a god. He’d been featured in last month’s GQ. You were mortal and your most recent press had been a TMZ story featuring unflattering paparazzi photos of you leaving a bodega in your pajamas at seven o’clock in the morning, a bagel halfway into your mouth. You were clearly not the same.

Up until the sweater, you’d managed to keep your cool around Loki and keep your attraction confined to daydreams and the occasional surreptitious lustful glance. Hell, you’d even had the nerve to be proud of yourself for keeping your shit together in front of him.

The sweater lays waste to all of that.

On the surface, it doesn’t seem like a sweater that is capable of completely destroying your carefully constructed composure. It’s a fairly standard crew neck in a deep green so dark it almost looks black at a first glance. But on Loki it just…does things to you. The fabric is well fitted, clinging to his biceps, pulling taut across his chest, emphasizing the line of his pectorals. It somehow accentuates how muscular he is while also still making him look lean and lithe.

The first time he wears it, you find your eyes just trail to him of their own volition, like an incredibly horny moth to the flame. It’s a day of catching yourself staring, panicking, pretending that you were actually looking at something else, and then repeating the process five minutes later when your gaze inevitably wandered again. It almost would have been funny if it didn’t put your blood pressure into the stratosphere.

To make matters worse, at the end of that day’s debriefing, he rises from his chair and raises his arms to the ceiling in a long stretch. The hem of the sweater creeps up, exposing the firm, flat muscles of his stomach, lightly dusted with a trail of hair that meanders in a tantalizing path down to his belt buckle.

You promptly choke on your own spit. Clint claps you hard on the back and asks if you’re okay, which is a question you don’t know how to answer (ultimately, you stick to a thumbs up and mumble something about dust getting caught in your throat). Loki is too preoccupied complaining about the entire concept of office furniture to notice. Or at least you’re pretty sure he doesn’t notice.

You might have been okay if that had been the only incident, but the sweater makes a repeat appearance on Friday. The following Tuesday features the deadly combination of the sweater with a pair of tight, dark wash jeans that nearly send you into cardiac arrest. Your fantasies suddenly become much more frequent and detailed.

You are not really sure what to do about this—it’s not like you can talk to anyone about it, nor can you ask him to stop wearing it without prompting some very uncomfortable questions. The idea that you’ll get used to it is laughable. 

You look at your calendar and note that spring is six months away. At least.

Fucking hell.

*

It’s a Saturday afternoon and in a strange quirk of scheduling, almost everyone is out of town for a mission or a personal obligation, leaving the Tower unusually quiet. As much as you enjoy the daily clatter and chaos that comes with living here, you find a lot of comfort in these moments of quiet, however infrequent they may be.

You intended to make yourself a late afternoon snack. That was the plan, anyway. But as you’re standing at the kitchen counter and cutting up the fruit you just washed, you realize that you’re not entirely alone. From this vantage point, you can see Loki lounging on the couch in the next room and reading.

He’s wearing the sweater. Of course he’s wearing the sweater. And the so-tight-they-should-be-illegal dark wash jeans.

Goddammit.

You have the sense to set the knife down at least. The last thing you need is a trip to the hospital because you got too distracted by your hot colleague while handling a knife.

You let your gaze travel along the firm muscles of his chest. It’s just a sweater. It shouldn’t look this good. It shouldn’t prompt these kinds of thoughts. And yet…

He shifts on the couch and the hem of the sweater creeps up. His hand drops to his belt buckle. It’s entirely appropriate, but the way his long, long fingers are splayed against his stomach makes your mind drop straight to the gutter and wonder what they’d look like wrapped around his rock hard co—

“You know, it’s rude to stare.”

His voice comes from behind you and adrenaline surges through you like an electric shock. The Loki on the couch looks up at you and smirks before disappearing in a shimmer of green.

You wonder if it’s possible to die of embarrassment and a heart attack all at the same time. It certainly feels like you’re about to.

You take a deep breath and try to collect yourself, which feels largely futile. Come on, get it together. You’ve negotiated with terrorists and insurance companies. Shake it off.

You slowly turn around, cheeks burning. Loki is standing right behind you, arms folded across his chest. You swallow.

“I um. I was—I was just…” Words escape you as your brain fires in every direction except a helpful one.

“You were just what?” His expression is intense, but you’re not sure that he’s angry.

“Spacing out,” you say, trying to infuse your voice with confidence that you absolutely do not feel.

He places his hands on the counter behind you, intentionally caging you in with his body. You are overwhelmed by the scent of him—a masculine, wintery musk that makes you want to bury your face against his chest.

“Try again,” he says. His voice is deep enough to rattle your bones.

You swallow. Everything you could possibly say seems wildly inadequate.

Loki has never been one to be at a loss for words, though, and after a moment of terrified silence from you, he continues speaking.

“I’ve noticed something curious over these past few weeks,” he says. “When I wear this sweater, you can’t seem to take your eyes off of me.”

Your heart is pounding. Fucking hell. Have you really been that obvious?

“Now why is that?” he asks, his voice a low purr.

You briefly consider trying to lie again, but the piercing green of his eyes instantly makes you rethink it. “I um…” You swallow hard. “It’s just…it suits you. You…you look good.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I look good?”

You nod.

“Interesting.” His lips twitch in a slight smirk as he looks you up and down. “And how does that make you feel?”

Your heart thuds in your chest, your stomach contorting with a strange combination of fear and desire. You’re still humiliated, but the sound of his voice and the dark intensity of his gaze is intoxicating and incredibly arousing.

“I don’t—I don’t know how to answer that question.”

“Oh, I think you do.” There’s a rawness in his voice that makes your cunt clench.

You shake your head, eyes wide. You’re pretty sure he’s not really mad, but you also don't know where this is going. Surely he’s not making a pass at you…right?

“How does it make you feel to see me in this sweater?” he continues, his voice a low whisper. He pauses for a moment and when you don’t answer, he continues. “Does it…arouse you, perhaps?”

Holy fuck.

This can’t be happening.

You try to think of something clever or sexy, but the bluntness of the question and the fire in his eyes kills whatever remaining brain cells you have left. Mutely, you nod.

There’s that smirk again as he licks his lips. “Are you wet right now?”

Your cheeks burn. You give the tiniest nod possible.

“Hmm.” His hand alights on the button of your jeans. “I believe you Midgardians have a saying that is appropriate here: trust, but verify.” He slips the button free and your heart pounds like a war drum in your chest. 

You cannot believe this is happening.

“You haven’t been entirely truthful in this conversation.” His palm presses flat against your stomach, the tips of his fingers slipping under the waistband of your underwear. “So I’m afraid I’m going to have to see for myself.”

His hand is achingly slow, creeping lower and lower. He watches you intently as his hand cups your sex, seemingly cataloging the way your breath hitches and all the little shivers that run through you.

His middle finger finally slides between your folds and you can’t help but moan.

“Oh, you did lie to me,” he growls, his index finger joining his middle, both sliding up to circle your clit. “You’re not wet, you’re soaked.”

Your legs are already starting to tremble and you grab on to his shoulders to try and steady yourself. The fabric of the sweater is softer than a cloud against your hands.

“Sopping wet,” he continues, trapping your right leg between his thighs and the counter, the heavy weight of his erection pressing eagerly against your hip. “And this is all for me?”

Wordlessly, you nod. There’s no point in denying it—and you don’t think he wants you to, either.

“What am I going to do about this?” he muses. His index and middle fingers lightly circle your clit again and you whimper.

“Don’t stop,” you gasp. “Please don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop?” he says. His tone is one of light curiosity, like you’re just chatting casually about the weather. “But if I continue, you’re almost certainly going to come.”

“Yes,” you gasp. “Please.”

“Oh, you want me to make you come?” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “Right here in the middle of the kitchen?”

You nod.

“Anyone could walk in, though,” he purrs. “Anyone could come in and see me with my fingers buried in your dripping cunt. What would they think if they saw you so utterly debauched and at my mercy, begging for me to make you come?”

“Don’t care…” you gasp. How are you already so close?

He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t care what they’d think if they saw us like this?”

You shake your head.

“Oh, you must be desperate.” He adjusts his hand, his thumb taking up the rhythm on your clit while his index finger sinks into your slick channel, making you gasp.

“Loki, please—”

“Begging already,” he says, not letting up in his rhythm. “Has it been a long time, sweetheart? When did you last feel this good?”

It’s not a question you can answer. You don’t know that anyone ever has made you feel like this. You moan, your hips bucking hard against his hand.

“Poor thing,” he tuts. “You’re clearly desperate for it. What kinds of filthy thoughts have you had about me?” he purrs. “I’ve seen you staring, I’ve heard your breath hitch. Have you touched yourself while thinking of me?”

You manage a nod and his smile turns feral. “When was the last time?”

“Last…last night,” you gasp.

“How many times did you come?”

“F-Four.”

“Filthy girl.” His free hand slides up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tips your head back. “Next time, all you have to do is ask.”

His mouth covers yours, his tongue pushing past your lips as he slides a second finger into you. You moan into his mouth as the pressure in your hips increases.

“Oh yes, let me hear all of those pretty noises,” he murmurs. “Are you going to let me fuck you against the counter after I make you come?”

You nod, whimpering.

“Good girl,” he purrs. “I think you need to be fucked properly and hard. Is that what you need?”

“Yes,” you gasp.

“Mmm, that’s what I thought. This cunt is just too wet and needy for any other treatment.” He draws back to look at you more fully, giving you a lazy, hungry smile. “You’re about to lose it all over my fingers, aren’t you?”

Your orgasm is cresting, the tingling pressure in your hips becoming unbearable. You nod, lost for words.

With one more smirk, he curls his fingers inside of you. “Come for me, pretty girl, let me see you.”

Your cunt spasms around his thrusting fingers and your whole body shudders as your orgasm overtakes you, your head tipping back as you cry out.

“Oh, that’s it,” he murmurs, “there’s my good girl.”

A shiver runs through you at his words, your hips still moving against his hand, trying to draw out every last ripple of pleasure.

He kisses you as you come down from your high, and you take the opportunity to run your hands over his chest and tentatively feel the hard planes of muscle that you’ve been staring at these last few weeks. But after a few moments, he takes your hand and guides it to his cock.

His preference for leather pants or those sinfully tight dark wash jeans made you suspect that the size of his ego might actually be proportionate to the size of his cock and your initial assessment seems to confirm that theory. You rub your fingers over the denim that covers his thick shaft, feeling yourself grow even wetter at the low groan he makes in the back of his throat.

“Take my cock out.” His voice is so deep and his eyes are so smoldering, it feels like the command goes straight to your cunt. You are practically trembling with anticipation as your shaking hands  make quick work of the button, buckle, and zipper.

You can’t help but suck in a breath when his cock comes into view. He’s long and deliciously thick—big enough to be a little intimidating, but not overwhelmingly so.

He guides your hand to wrap around his shaft. He barely fits in your hand. “Look at what you’ve done to me,” he says, his voice raspy as he guides your hand to stroke his cock. “Feel how hard I am for you, feel how much I want you.”

His cock practically pulses with need, the tip slick with pre-come and you grasp him more firmly, your cunt pulsing as he gives a deeply satisfying groan.

You stroke him from base to tip, squeezing lightly. He groans again. “They told me to stay away from you, you know,” he says.

You aren’t so far gone that you can let this information slip by. “What? Who?”

“Stark. Rogers. Romanoff. My brother.” He reaches behind you and shoves the fruit and cutting board into the side, the knife clattering into the sink. “They saw how I looked at you,” he says. “They saw that I wanted you. They told me you were too good for me. Too sweet.”

You feel your jeans and underwear melt away in a shimmer of green and he lifts you easily onto the counter.

His eyes flash with desire. “I wonder what they’d say if they knew you’d let me fuck you raw in the middle of the kitchen?”

For a brief moment, frustration almost wins out over your lust. “We could have done this sooner?”

His gaze turns serious. “Darling, we could have done this the moment we met, but I’m told a handshake is more appropriate.”

You take a breath, about to embark on a rant about the individuals he’d named and how they hadn’t even asked, they’d just assumed, but Loki puts a hand up against your mouth.

“Don’t make me wait any longer,” he says. There’s a sincerity and a need in his gaze that you’ve never seen before and it’s enough to calm your anger for just a moment.

“Okay,” you say, wrapping your legs around his waist and angling your hips toward his, “but clear your schedule because I’m gonna need you to fuck me a lot to make up for all that time.”

His grin is feral as he pushes into you.

You shiver at the blunt stretch of his cock, your hands gripping his broad shoulders. He indulges in a low groan as his hips press flush against yours.

“If I’d known they were keeping me from this tight cunt, I would’ve done something sooner,” he rasps. “You feel absolutely perfect.”

“Please,” you breathe, “I need—please.”

His hips snap hard against yours and you moan, your head tipping back.

His eyes glitter as he pulls you close, pressing his mouth against your ear. “The next time I have you, I will be sweet and soft.”

“And this time?” you ask, though you think you already know the answer.

“This time—” His mouth presses against the curve of your neck, teeth scraping just this side of too hard against the tender skin. “—I’m going to utterly ruin you.”

His pace is fast and rough—the word possessive comes to mind. You twist the luxurious fabric of his sweater in your hands as his cock hits that sweet, aching spot inside of you, pressing against your sensitive cunt in a way that makes your muscles spasm and clench around him. You moan, a shiver rolling through you as you inch closer to release.

“I’m…fuck, I’m getting close,” you gasp.

His pace abruptly slows and his grin is wide and his eyes are dancing with mirth when he raises his head from your shoulder.

“That was unnecessary,” you say with a scowl.

“Oh, I just want to savor you for a little longer, my love,” he purrs as he settles into an easy and slow pace that still makes your toes curl. “You’re going to take me right over the edge with you and I’ve waited so terribly long to have you.”

“I feel like you’re probably omitting the fact that you like being a tease,” you say.

He grins again, increasing his pace ever so slightly. “Both things can be true.”

He does this a few times—taking up a wicked pace that almost sends you hurtling over the edge, only to slow at the last possible moment, silencing your whimpering protests with a deep and slow kiss that is good enough to make you forgive him until a few minutes later when he does it all over again.

You hold out for as long as you can, but eventually, the ache in your hips overwhelms you.

“Loki,” you breathe when his pace again begins to increase. “Please don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop?” he rasps, somehow finding the concentration to raise an eyebrow. “You’re quite sure?”

You nod.

“You want to come all over my cock?”

Speech is slightly beyond you at this point, but you manage to gasp a desperate plea as you hurtle into the final plateau, right before the fall.

Loki regards you with that same playful look as he fucks you. You wait, unsure of what he’s going to do, your body desperately crying out for your release.

His lips curl into a smile. “Come for me, sweet thing.”

At the sound of his voice, every one of your muscles is tensing and releasing, the slick walls of your cunt clamping down hard on the thick girth of his cock as you shudder and moan.

The remnants of Loki’s composure are fraying, his eyes closed and his jaw slack as he chases his own end. His brow furrows and he throws his head back, letting out a low groan as he comes and you think it might be the best sound you’ve ever heard.

You sag against him as you both come down from your respective highs, his heart beating hard under the soft fabric of his sweater. He reaches for your face, tilting your head back so he can kiss you, impossibly slow and soft.

You’re in the middle of the kitchen. You understand this. In a wholly rational world, you would be quick to hop off the counter, quick to try and negotiate the return of your jeans from whatever pocket dimension he’s sent them to.

Instead, you find yourself wanting to stay in this moment, with his arms wrapped around you, his cock still pulsing inside you as he kisses you breathless.

You count to ten, then twenty. At forty, you draw back slightly, only to have him pull you back into the kiss.

It’s somewhere after one hundred when he trails his lips to your neck and you manage to say what you intended: “We should probably…” you trail off as he sucks at your pulse point, sending a shiver down your spine.

“We should probably what?” he murmurs against your neck, before tracing a lazy figure eight with the tip of his tongue.

It takes you a moment to find that sentence. “Get dressed and such.”

You feel the sharp press of his smile against your skin. “I think not.”

Before you can open your mouth to say anything, the kitchen is fading in a shimmer of green to an unfamiliar bedroom and the two of you tumble into a bed draped in green silk.

“I’d like to stay like this for a while,” he says, a smile playing at his lips as he slowly rolls his hips against you, somehow still impossibly hard. “In fact, I think I need to have you again.”

“I can live with that,” you say. You tug at the fabric of his sweater. “But this is going to have to go.”

His gaze is smoldering and his bare skin is suddenly pressed against yours as the sweater and the rest of your clothes disappear in that familiar shimmer of green.

“Will you like me as much without it?” he asks, rolling his hips against you.

You drag your fingernails up along the firm muscles of his back. “I think I’ll manage.”

“Good,” he says, leaning in to kiss you, “because as I understand it, we have quite a lot of time to make up for.”

[miriellesandthegiantpeach]

A Conversation | Rewrite of 8x06 Bucktommy

“You’d end up breaking my heart. And I - I don’t think I can deal with that,” Tommy looks to the ceiling, feeling the tears well at the bottom of his eyes. He blinks and looks at Buck. His brows are furrowed; his face is a mixture of disbelief and confusion. Tommy swallows, “I should go,” he whispers and heaves himself off the chair.

This can’t be happening. How did this go downhill so fast?

Buck is quick to get up and grab Tommy’s wrist as he turns his back. “Whoa whoa. Hey, what’s going on right now? What just happened? Sit back down,” Buck gently commands and pulls Tommy back to the stool and scoots his own closer so their knees are interlocked. ”This sounds a lot like a break up.”

Tommy sniffles, “it’s for the best, Evan.”

“For who? We’re happy. We have a great thing here and you want to throw it away? How does that make sense?”

”You’re not seeing me for who I am. The guy you admire? The one that ‘paved the way’ is not me. Never was,” Tommy explains.

”Okay,” Buck says and he can see where he put Tommy on a pedestal. “I’m sorry I made you out to be this gay mentor for me to idolize. You’re not. You’re my boyfriend. I still admire my boyfriend. I still think you’re confident and capable.”

”I never felt confident, I’m always feeling like a fraud.”

Buck takes a moment to let Tommy breathe, he takes Tommy’s hands in his and holds on tight. “You are confident. It takes confidence to fly like you do, to come out in his line of work, to kiss a guy who didn’t even know about his own bisexuality,” Buck laughs. “Honey, sorry to break it to you, but you are confident.”

“But this isn’t about me,” Tommy says.

”Isn’t it though? You self sabotaging in some weird way of protecting yourself,” Buck says, trying to tamp down his frustration.

Tommy looks struck, he looks like he’s about to bolt out the door. Buck hit the exact wrong nerve. “Because I’ve been there. I’ve been through it more than once. With you it’s different. You actually give me hope for a future, but if it ends, like it inevitably will, it’s going to destroy me.”

“So that’s it, huh? You just get to decide our fate and walk out of my life?” Buck asks and takes a deep breath. He can sympathize with Tommy in some sense; he felt that fear of heartbreak when he started dating again after Abby. “And you know, this isn’t my first relationship. It’s not even my first serious relationship.”

“But it’s your first with a man,” Tommy tries, but Buck scoffs.

“Why should that matter?” Buck’s voice gets low and intimate. He leans even further into Tommy’s space trying to catch his eyes. “Tommy. Why do you get to decide something that I feel? I can even say I’ve been in love before. But it wasn’t like this.” Tommy’s breath hitches. “With you, it’s easy. Easiest it’s ever been. And that’s not something I’m willing to give up on. I love you. And I’m sorry I jumped the gun asking you to move in before saying that. I don’t love you because this is my first queer relationship. I love you because you’re you. I love your patience, your attentiveness, your dry humor, your warmth, your heart. There are a lot of reasons that don’t have to do with your gender. Although I do love your rugged face and your dick,” Buck adds with a laugh and that makes Tommy smile. “If I had to bet I’d say you love me too.”

Tommy nods and breathes deep then ducks his head, focusing on Buck’s hands holding his. “I do. I’m just so scared.”

A tear falls down Tommy’s cheek and Buck reaches up to catch it on his thumb. He cups Tommy’s stubbled jaw and caresses his cheek. “Why are you breaking your own heart, baby?” Buck whispers. That makes more tears spill out. Tommy really wishes he knew.

“Can we take a step back? No moving in, no Mach speed. I can slow down. Is that what you need?”

“I-I don’t know,” Tommy says shakily. “It would help I think.”

“Okay. Then we do that. We take our time. But please do me a favor?” Tommy meets Buck’s earnest eyes with still tearful ones. “You have to trust me with your heart. We’re in this together. I’m scared too and just as invested.”

“I’ll try,” Tommy promises. “I love you.”

A beaming smile threatens to split Buck’s face in two and pulls Tommy in for a deep kiss. He stands up, still connected to Tommy’s mouth as both hands move to land on either side of his neck. They kiss like that for a few minutes with Buck standing as close as possible in between Tommy’s spread knees and bent over at an awkward angle to keep kissing him.

“I think we should skip the movie, we’re late anyway,” Buck says against Tommy’s lips. “I’m gonna take you upstairs and get you out of your head.”

“Okay,” Tommy agrees and makes a mental note of trusting that Buck knows what’s best for him. How lucky is he?

[tsukimefuku]

de-stressing the lawyer :: higuruma hiromi

summary: your husband hiromi is pretty stressed out with work, and you decide to help him out… by giving him head under his desk.

cw: smut, implied f!reader, blowjob, swallowing, pet names (“darling" and “my dear”).

wc: 1.1k

notes etc.: this is just filth, guys. It is thoroughly inspired by that one amazing four-panel comic from @g00miato that has lived in my head rent free ever since I saw it a while ago (tagging the artist with her consent, you can check out the comic here on this link).

Hiromi had a throbbing headache as he sat on his home office's desk. He had been cooped up in there for hours after work, having already peeled out his tie and suit jacket, trying to crack a case he didn't get anywhere with during office hours.

The evidence? Wasn't favorable at all. The procedure? Pristine, nothing to argue about that. His client was in a dire situation and Hiromi thought he might have to enter a plea bargain with the prosecution, something he loathed with every fiber of his being.

"Hey, Hiro... Any luck yet?" you asked, walking in holding a plate with a few sandwiches. He looked at you like he could throw himself out of the window at that very instant. "Yeesh."

"I'm stuck. I'm just utterly, and completely, stuck," he answered, disheartened and annoyed, with a prominent vein popping on his forehead — the tell-tale sign he was operating at peak stress capabilities.

You put the plate on the desk and sat on the edge to avoid ruffling up his papers.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Hiro?" you asked, with clear concern in your voice. He worked too much most of the time.

Hiromi spun on his chair to look at you for a second, grabbing one of the sandwiches.

"This is fine, love. Thank you."

Upon closer inspection, he really looked like he was three heartbeats short of a heart attack. 

"Hiromi, you need to relax..." you cooed, giving him a chaste kiss on his forehead. "Maybe try taking a break?"

"I can't. I can't leave this desk. I feel like I almost got it, but it keeps slipping away! Dammit," he complained with his mouth half full while covering his face with his hands.

You sighed, and walked behind him, starting to massage his shoulders. He felt like a boulder underneath your touch, and it took a while for him to actually begin relaxing, putting his food back on the plate and dangling his head back with his eyes closed.

"Is that good?"

Hiromi simply nodded, and you sighed, a little more relieved. However, his muscles were still very much stiff, and there was no way he'd be able to continue working like this.

That was when you had a wicked little idea.

“Hey, Hiro, I think you need a break.”

“My love, I can’t. I’ve almost-“

“Let me rephrase that — you will take a break right now,” you answered him, starting to pull on his chair enough to separate him from his desk, “because I had an idea. And you won’t have to leave your desk.”

Hiromi looked at you confused, but offered no resistance when you pulled him away from his papers. Swiftly, you walked in front of him and kneeled, sliding under his desk.

“What are you-“

He didn’t get to finish his sentence as you put both hands on his thighs and rolled him back in your direction, sneaky fingers quickly unzipping his pants.

“I’m taking care of my dear, beloved husband,” you cooed with a mischievous smile on your face.

Hiromi looked down at you, shuddering the moment you pressed your hands on his clothed cock and started to massage it over his boxers, his pupils slowly growing larger and larger. Hiromi’s mouth fell open, his breathing growing heavier as he gazed at you.

You could feel his length hardening under your touch, and rested your face over his thigh while you kept softly stroking him. Hiromi’s hand made its way towards your face, his thumb brushing circles around your cheek. Your eyes met his, and you smiled at him, robbing him of a blush and some fluttering blinks.

For the first time today, Hiromi actually felt the pent up stress easing on him. His relaxation now had become more evident from the way your husband began slouching himself on his chair. His resolve to keep tinkering with his work evaporated for the time being, something only you got to do with Hiromi.

His work was first to anything, except when it came to you.

Feeling more and more satisfied with that, you finally downed his boxers, just to see his now throbbing, red cock slapping with a soft thud against his skin. From his mouth, the faintest whimper tumbled out, and oh did that rile you up just right.

Not wasting any time, you gave a few licks over his tip, tasting the salty pre cum just forming a tiny drop over his slit. That robbed Hiromi from some little moans and gasps, right before you finally downed his length inside your mouth, glazing it all over with wet, warm saliva. 

”You... t-take such good care-- of me... fuck“ Hiromi’s fingers tangled in your hair, lovingly massaging their way through, and it was you now who let out a tiny mewl, eliciting a broken moan from his lips.

You had your mouth as deep as you could without choking yourself, and bobbed your head up and down his shaft, as one of your hands pumped the rest of his length down to the base, pulling your other hand up to massage his tightening balls. You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and at that moment, he let out a strained whimper rolling his eyes back, biting his lips.

”Such a good wife-- s-so good for me-- ohhh perfect... shit... ohhhh--”

His praises were definitely arousing, to say the least, and you clenched your thighs together, relieving — even if just a little — the pulsing need aching in your core while you had both of your hands full with him.

Hiromi got lost in the pleasure, and barely noticed his entire body relaxing, which led to his legs starting to push him away from you. Your hand that previously was around his balls instantly shot up, holding him by his buttoned shirt. The moment you pulled him in your direction, edging his cock even deeper in your tight, hot, slick mouth, he involuntarily bucked his hips, tip hitting the roof of your mouth.

You moaned with your lips around his shaft, and started to suck on it more intently. Hiromi’s head dangled back, his own desperate moans and whimpers coming muffled in between his teeth and bitten bottom lip. Both of his hands now stroked your hair, anxiously making a mess out of you, just as much you were making a mess out of him.

”I’m gonna c-cum... Can I... inside-- p-please-- m-my love, ohhhhh-- please... please”

To hear him beg desperately like that was definitely one of your favorite sounds in the world. 

You moaned back at him a muffled mm-hmm, and from his lips fell some louder whimpers, his fingers tensing around your head.

He came with a shiver shooting all throughout his entire body, warm spurts of his thick cum blossoming hot over your tongue, glazing your entire mouth and throat.

Your hand on his shirt tightened, crumpling it like paper, as you drank his essence in, swallowing down everything as your pumping over his length finally slowed down, his cock twitching under your touch to let out his final drops.

Letting go from his cock with an audible pop after your were finished, you looked up at him, and for a moment, you felt like you could cum from that sight alone. His flushed, loving, little fucked out face, smiling at you with those luster-filled ashy eyes. It was definitely a sight to behold. 

You rested your face over his thigh, longingly looking at him, and Hiromi’s hand cupped the side of your face.

“I love you, darling,” he cooed with a husky, low voice.

“I love you too, Hiro.”

Out of nowhere, though, his gaze slowly morphed, and his eyebrows shot up, as if Hiromi had remembered something.

“Hiro, is everything okay?”

“I think I just might have thought of a way to salvage this case.”

De-stressing really helped Hiromi with work, apparently, and you’d help him every time he needed to.

Gladly.

written by tsukimefuku ㋡ comments and reblogs are appreciated. do not copy, translate or repost. copycatting is for losers.

[thef1diary]

Hey Di! I can’t help but feel like Daniel would LOVE watching his gal get ready 👀😍

Watching Me | D. Ricciardo

Summary: Daniel can't keep his eyes off you while you're getting ready to go out.

Warnings: none really, just a lotta fluff

Pairing: daniel x fem!reader (established relationship)

word count: 988

It's just something all men absolutely hate. You told yourself when you've been told multiple times in the past that it takes you too long to get dressed.

However the man that was currently watching you didn't have any sort of expression on his face that told you he didn't like this. He had a slight smirk on his face, so it was actually quite the contrary.

During the three years of your relationship, Daniel has never once voiced irritation over it. He actually enjoys watching you go through your routine step by step rather than leaving you to get dressed alone. And that is exactly what he is doing now.

Leaning against the doorframe, he is watching you stood with a towel wrapped around your body and another around your hair. You were applying your skincare products when you noticed him through the mirror. "What are you doing?"

He took that as a sign to walk further into the room, standing behind you but not touching you just yet. "Admiring the most beautiful person I've ever laid my eyes on."

His simple statement made you blush profusely and you shook your head with a smile on your face but didn't respond. Even after three years, he was still capable of making you speechless.

A few moments of silence later, while you continued your routine—now doing your hair—Daniel decided to wrap his arms around your body, resting his chin on your shoulder. Usually you wouldn't mind his embrace, in fact you actually liked it a lot but at the moment it restricted you from properly drying your hair. "Daniel?"

He hummed in response, "go change" you simply stated which made him chuckle. "Why, don't I look good like this?" He asked, gesturing to his current outfit he wore after taking a shower earlier in the day—shorts from his latest enchanté collection and a plain white t shirt.

You turned around, finally facing him. Placing a hand on his cheek, you spoke "as much as I love seeing those, it's our anniversary, baby." You pointed to his thigh tattoos that Daniel knew how much you adored.

He placed a kiss on your lips before walking towards the closet and picking out a suit. Actually, after going through all the suit options, he chose two then came to you to chose the final one.

Meanwhile, you decided to remove your towel and moisturize your body. Unfortunately for Daniel, he missed that part while he was getting dressed.

However, he returned to the room while you were putting your dress on. He had a white dress shirt on but didn't button it up. On the other hand, you were struggling to zip up your dress, you saw him through the mirror again, smiling at your struggles. "A little help please?"

He came up right behind you, moving your hair out of the way before tugging the zipper up. He turned you around and placed a kiss on your bare shoulder which was decorated by a small design in ink.

That's when you noticed his unbuttoned shirt. "What's this?" You asked with a smile on your face, knowing Daniel's antics very well. In fact he's been in a mischievous mood all day today. You didn't blame him, mainly because you were also in a celebratory mood, as you two were celebrating three years of being in a relationship.

"A little help please?" He shrugged, standing with an innocent look on his face. His bare torso also revealed the tattoo he had near his shoulder, of love and life, and you grazed your thumb over it before moving down his chest.

You returned the favour by buttoning his shirt up but also had a teasing smirk on your face, "am I supposed to get dressed or help you get dressed?"

"What can I say, I like taking up all your attention." He responded instantly. Truth is, with Daniel, your smile never fades away so it wasn't a surprise that you had a smile on your face.

"Is there a problem with that?" He added, but you shook your head. "No, what can I say, you already have all of my attention."

"Good, because you have all of my attention too, every second of every day." He pulled you closer by his grasp on your waist, touching your nose with his before rubbing them together. This little gesture has become a habit over the years.

"Even while you're racing?" You asked when he pulled back. Your question made him laugh, showing off his pearly whites, "yes even when I'm racing."

"Look at you, openly admitting this bad habit of yours." You clicked your tongue and shook your head, turning around to start your makeup.

"You're not my bad habit, but if you were, I'd be a goner." He stated, which made you pause. "Daniel, you can't say things like that."

He shrugged and moved next to you, picking out the products he uses to style his hair. Truth is, once you started dating him, you also convinced him to buy styling products for his hair. After all, he had amazing curls but would barely take care of them. So whenever you saw him using the products you recommended, you smiled.

Instead of looking at himself in the mirror, he was looking at you, captivated by your beauty. What can he say, he fell in love with you more and more every day.

You two were silently enjoying each other’s presence while trying to quickly get dressed as Daniel made reservations at your favourite restaurant. He finished before you, using the extra time to sit on the bed, just watching you with a smile on his face.

This is something that will never get old, him watching you with love and admiration present in his eyes.

[j-sunct]

lose my breath @ HYUNJIN & CHAN

𓂃 if hyunjin hadn't chosen such a boring movie, y/n wouldn't have fingers in her pussy, much less bangchan's dick in her mouth.

❀ chanjinㅤㅤㅤ ' ㅤㅤㅤfem!reader

smutㅤ  ㅤ╱ㅤ    👤ㅤ   minors do not interact

⋆ war'ningsㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤthreesome, chan and hyunjin have a stable relationship with reader, fingering, blowjob, dirty talk, teasing, exhibitionism.

s/n, bangchan and hyunjin had a kind of itinerary for saturdays. they would ALWAYS go see movies together, both to strengthen their relationship since, with the hustle and bustle of the weekdays, they actually ended up forgetting about each other.

today was another one of those movie sessions; popcorn made, and hyunjin was choosing the movie, since this week was his turn.

“i think i found it!" hyun shouted from the living room, ready to press play. s/n returned to the kitchen with a bucket of popcorn, while chan tried to balance three glasses of soda

“wich movie is that?" s/n asked as she sat in the middle of the couch, with the popcorn bowl between her legs.

“honestly, i don't know. i just saw the cover and found it a little interesting.” hwang confessed, leaning over to grab a portion of the popcorn.

meanwhile, bangchan seemed very focused on the movie, "i really hope this movie is good, hyunjin. don't waste our precious time.” he stated, chuckling lightly. not that the movie being bad was a problem, they had the whole weekend to enjoy it.

jinnie joined in the laughter, as well as y/n. “i promise, hyung, that i won't waste our saturday. this movie has potential, trust me." he gave a thumbs up, an attempt to sound confident.

“so, let's get started!” s/n said and finally, played the movie.

—

unfortunately, bangchan was right about his opinion of the movie — that's what hyunjin thought, sighing lightly. he didn't want to show that he was completely bored with it.

the romance was poorly developed, scenes so cliché that they made him roll his eyes. at first, he didn't imagine it was a romance film, but it was. this is like a moral lesson "kids, always read the synopsis before choosing something!”

it really did seem boring until hyunjin noticed how the popcorn bucket was positioned on y/n’s legs. it was like a light bulb went off over his head. why not a fuck?

first of all, he checked her and bangchan's attention... both completely focused on the movie. perfect.

playing innocent, he reached out to "grab some popcorn from the bowl", but no. his hand rested under y/n's crotch, without even any provocation or anything like that.

her eyes widened before slowly drifting towards where hyun's hand was positioned. shit. could he be a little less of a pervert? even over her shorts, his fingertips caused a slight friction that made her sigh. the need to get wet was tempting.

hyunjin's thin fingers wandered over y/n's clothes, now definitely applying a little pressure. it was inevitable for her not to feel her pussy contract a little and the liquid flow out consequently.

bangchan was right there, he could see her at any moment, calling her a "whore" for letting herself be touched so easily... but what could she do? she really wanted to be hyunjin's whore, let him use her for free, wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

it was so good, the feeling of the juices starting to run from y/n's little hole, hyunjin's fingers stimulating her clitoris that, even over so many layers of clothing, was capable of making her lose focus of the film.

little by little, hyunjin brought his mouth closer to y/n's ear, just to whisper. “it's good, isn't it? the feeling of knowing you could get caught at any moment.” he laughed, softly. without drawing bangchan's attention. “like, chan can look over at any moment, see you practically begging for dick and just, fuck you. use you.” he continued laughing until he stopped moving his hand and walked away completely.

y/n mumbled in denial, the feeling was too good to be abandoned. why did hyunjin stop?

“chris, i think it's time to get this perversion out of our girl.”

bangchan turned around, a smile already plastered on his face. "from the moment she accepted your touches, hyun.”

y/n was in complete shock, maybe even feeling vulnerable, but still completely wet to receive chan and jinnie. “she doesn't even deny it, does you, love?" the older man placed his hand on her chin, forcing her to look at him.

hyunjin approached from behind, placing his hands on her hips. he saw y/n shake her head. so defenseless. taking advantage of the fact that all her attention was on bangchan now, he approached the waistband of her shorts, slowly lowering them. then he removed her panties, which for a moment remained stuck to the cavity, due to her juices. “naughty girl..." he laughed, almost mockingly.

y/n at the same time that she felt exposed, she felt completely excited, wanting to be touched. she grabbed bangchan's shoulders, when she finally felt hyunjin enter two fingers inside.

“ngl... wait…” y/n muttered, digging her nails into chris' shoulder. “i'm tight…” she whispered, more like a moan, as her pussy sent vibrations into hyunjin's hand.

bangchan took advantage of the moment to unbutton his pants, caressing his own volume over his white underwear. some whispers came out of chris' mouth, his dick looked so big. he was excited, it was a fact. a pool of pre-cum covered his underwear, right at the mark of the head of his cock.

y/n can't help but bite her lips, bangchan practically jerking off right in front of her, while hyunjin fingers her. she finally took action, pulling down his underwear until chan's private parts were visible.

“what a little bitch... can't wait to suck my dick, huh?” bangchan held y/n's face, pressing her cheeks into a sort of pout.

“you should know by now, chris. make her suck your fucking dick and make those ridiculous noises.” hyunjin was eagerly searching for her sweet spot, he wanted to make the girl have all the pleasure in the world and he knew that all that dirty talk only excited her even more. her pulsating hole only confirmed that, tightening more and more around the korean's fingers.

hyunjin went in circular movements, working more where y/n was excited, where she moaned and begged for more of him, until he came out with his fingers completely smeared with her juice.

hyun's fingers were coated in y/n's slick arousal as he worked her tight hole, his movements growing more urgent with each passing second. her moans grew louder, that little body trembling in need.

chan took advantage of the moment, guiding her face towards his throbbing cock. "open wide, baby," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "i'm going to feed you my dick."

y/n eagerly parted her lips, her tongue darting out to lick the tip of christopher's cock. she moaned at the taste of his pre-cum, her eyes fluttering closed in bliss.

bangchan pushed forward, sliding his cock into y/n's warm, wet mouth. she took him deep, her throat contracting around his shaft. channie groaned in pleasure, his hips rocking forward to meet her eager mouth.

hyunjin watched the scene unfold, his own cock throbbing with need. he added a third finger to y/n's pussy, stretching her further. "damn, you're so good taking hyung's dick…" he grunted, his fingers pumping in and out of her slick heat.

her moans vibrated around bangchan's cock, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body. he grabbed a fistful of her hair, guiding her head as he fucked her mouth. "that's it, baby. take my cock like a good little slut."

jinnie could feel y/n's walls fluttering around his fingers, a telltale sign of her impending orgasm. he rubbed her clit with his thumb, pushing her over the edge.

y/n came hard, her pussy gushing around hyunjin's fingers. she moaned around bangchan's cock, her body shaking with the force of her climax.

bangchan couldn't hold back any longer. with a grunt, he pulled out of her mouth and came, his hot seed splattering across her face and tits.

slowly, hyun removed his fingers from inside the girl, seeing all that juice and sticky cum on his hand. he felt a desire to taste her and, for sure, next time, he would suck her pussy.

“you taste very good, honey.” he stated precisely, his tongue around his long, thin fingers, cleaning them thoroughly.

[withmyloveasyourgarden]

WHEREVER YOU RUN AND WHEREVER YOU HIDE

STEVE HARRINGTON x F!READER

A haunted house ride, so much pining and teasing, and a wild chase with Steve more than determined to catch you before the end. 6K of best friends to lovers fluff. [Re-uploaded from my old blog]

"What is it with you and haunted houses? Do you not think we visit enough creepy places?" 

There was a scream from the attraction behind you as the boy spoke, a twisted cackle chasing at its heels and Steve glared when you snorted a laugh at the way he wrinkled his nose, hands shoved into his pockets as his eyes flickered to the house then back to yours once more. 

You simply shrugged in response, a teasing grin tugging at your lips that just barely peeked out from behind the thick wool of your scarf. "What's the matter Harrington? Can take on Demogorgons and bats no problem but teenagers in fancy dress is where you draw the line?"

It went this way every year that the Halloween fair rolled into Hawkins. You would be drawn to the Haunted House in all of its cliche blood-splattered glory, neon lights flashing like a beacon, the zombies that crawled around the outside of the house and beckoned you with rotting hands outstretched to come closer. 

And every year, Steve would pretend it was the worst thing in the world when you dragged him towards it, as if he was actually capable of denying you something you asked of him. Heels dug into the ground just enough that you had to work to get him there and a soft pout on the boy's face that melted into a fond smile, all indulgent and warm, the moment you weren't looking. 

It was threatening to make an appearance now, even as he rolled his eyes, seemingly determined to ignore the fact he was already giving in by matching every step you took backwards in the direction of the ticket booth with one of his own towards you. 

"S'real funny princess." He replied smoothly, a smirk on his pretty face and head cocked to the side as if he was forcing himself to think back to a memory that he would never admit was already seared into his brain. "Cause I could've sworn it was you hiding their face in my sweater last year, not the other way around." 

"Hey! Not fair, you know I hate dolls." 

You were trying your best to sound outraged, a voice full of faux-indignation that did nothing to make the boy appear apologetic. If anything he looked triumphant - the flash of the lights glinting off his steadily widening grin, eyes bright and too knowing.  

Because you were all flushed skin where your knitwear couldn't hide, a gaze that couldn't fully keep his whilst you were remembering the way your best friend had wrapped you up in his body. Tucking your head into his chest, one arm tight around your shoulders and a large hand encompassing both of your smaller ones. His lips a gentle pressure against your hair as he promised, 's'okay babe, I'll tell you when it's over'

And just like when you'd clumsily pulled away back then, all shy and flustered, Steve was forced to try his hardest to bite his tongue again now. To swallow the fierce urge he had to tell you something stupid, like just how fucking pretty you looked and how he wanted nothing more than to kiss the heat from your cheeks. 

Maybe even admit that holding you, regardless of how short it lasted, had made his entire night. 

Instead he hides his feelings behind a tease as his larger step towards you caused you to fumble your step back. The heel of your shoe caught on a rogue stone and Steve's arms reaching out to steady you as your lower-back knocked into the blunt edge of the currently empty ticket booth. 

"Easy there, princess." He cooed, eyes sparkling with mischief and his hands spanning your hips, thumbs crafting thoughtless circles over the fabric of your sweater that made the flesh beneath burn white hot. "Can't have you falling for me before I've even had the chance to play hero again." 

You suddenly hated the fact that Steve was a solid wall of warmth - summer kept alive beneath his skin - hated the way it melted you and the autumn chill that had crept inside your bones. The inch left between your bodies seemed to spark with heat, making you forget how to snap back when he crowded you like this. 

This was your best friend for fuck sake, and god , if he just leaned a little closer you were sure he would see right through you. 

To the thoughts you had tumbling around your skull, every pesky little feeling you'd ever had for the boy written in neon flashing lights to match the ones that adorned the house behind you. 

His lips twitched and he raised a brow at your lack of retort, smug and teasing, amused by his own cheesy joke and the way you gaped at him. 

"Y'know what Harrington–" You attempted to bite out, determined to ignore how the words sounded like a struggle even to your own ears. 

But then the tight grip of his hands was leaving your waist, drifting up to adjust the too large hat Eleven had knit for you that occasionally slipped a little far past your brow. His gaze softened a touch as he looked at it. 

Remembering how proud you'd been when the girl had shown you her work, the way you lit up when you realised it was for you, eyes bright and just a touch glossy, before pulling her into the most adoring hug he thinks he'd ever seen. 

Knowing if he hadn't already been in love with you then he would have fallen right then anyway. 

Meanwhile, you couldn't help but stare whilst he righted it. It felt like you were bound in place, caught up in some type of spell that only the boy in front of you was capable of weaving, a heady kind of magic that flowed solely between the two of you. 

You inhaled the scent of him, nose practically to his chest - the smell of crisp apple and something woodsy, the cinnamon sugar from the donuts you shared earlier still sweet on his breath - and grew dizzy with it, too warm when his fingers lingered longer than they should to toy with a lock of hair that fell out of place. 

Heart thudding at the soft noise that escaped from the boy's parted lips all because you shivered at the gentle way he swept the strands behind your ear. 

Shit - you hadn't been able to help it.

The touch had been light but no less gut-wrenching as it grazed your cheek and you realised too late that if your face didn't give you away, then surely the way your body reacted to him was about to.

He was close enough that he must have been able to hear the hitch of your breath despite the sounds that echoed from the ride, seen the way you swallowed hard as he watched you for what felt like an eternity before daring to lean a little closer. 

"What?" He prompted, voice dropping low. Hoarse. Honey eyes burning a little darker as they flickered down for a beat before darting back up in a way that made you feel like Steve wanted something he didn't think he was supposed to ask for. 

And then there was an awkward cough, sounding louder than it truly was, from behind you. The booth no longer unmanned as the attendant appeared to startle you both. 

The interruption brought you back to reality and Steve stumbled back as you swatted at his chest. Raking a shaky hand through the windswept mess of his hair with a rough chuckle when you managed to choke out a far too delayed 'you fucking wish',  before spinning to face the kid with your cheeks aflame. 

You just hoped that neither they nor Steve paid notice to the way you had to clear your throat before you trusted yourself to speak again. 

That they were oblivious to how your voice still cracked even then when you asked for two tickets and handed the money over with a sheepish 'thanks' . Ignoring the attendant's gaze that slid curiously between you and the boy at your back. 

"That's just mean, you're breaking my heart here, babe." Steve sighed, trying to sound less affected than he felt, nerves still tight in his throat but the words were spoken so soft that you didn't seem to notice. 

His lips brushed the shell of your ear when he felt brave enough to draw you into him once again, oblivious to the fact that you were still reeling."I let you drag me in here every year, use me as a human shield and this is the thanks I get?" 

"I could leave you to the first thing that attacks us instead if you want? I've still not forgiven you for bringing the dolls up again." You shot back, biting your lip at the smooth confidence he used to turn you in his hold and sling an arm over your shoulders, steering you both towards the overly-cobwebbed entrance. 

He scoffed, full of cheek as he prodded at your ribs."You wouldn't dare."  

And you wanted to curse the fact that it wounded some part of you deep down, how easy it was for him to act like nothing had happened. Like it hadn't fazed him in the slightest that the two of you had been seconds from risking your friendship by closing that gap. 

Thank fucking christ you hadn't. 

"Just watch me." You threatened, huffing and squirming, slapping at his hand because the boy refused to relent once he managed to pull a reluctant smile out of you. "I might finally get some fucking peace."

He gave a wounded gasp at that, a kicked-puppy look to his eyes that was almost as dramatic as the betrayal that flashed through his pretty features when you finally had enough of pushy fingers in your sides and shoved him into the path of the closest zombie. 

He tripped over his own feet in an effort to avoid them and swore. Much to the amusement of yourself and the actor, who upon seeing Steve come stumbling their way lunged the moment he got close enough, hands snatching for the boy and gore-slick teeth snapping shut just shy of his shoulder. 

It brought a cackle from your lips when the zombie suddenly reeled back and pretended to gag, hacking like Steve had left a god awful taste in their mouth. There was laughter from some of the people that passed to go into the house, a couple of "ewww gross" that came from little kids who pulled at their parents' hands and pointed. Tiny faces scrunched up with a horrified kind of curiosity.

You gave a victorious grin at the stunned look on his face, one that seemed to flicker from disbelief to questioning whether he should be offended before he rounded on you with hair wild from the struggle and narrowed eyes. Shooting you a look that clearly told you you're in for it. 

A smirk tugged at his lips, sly as your own grin fell, and when he spoke, you couldn't help the way it made you nervous. Your heart slamming up against the wall of your ribs, forceful enough that you were sure the boy would be able to hear it from where he stood.

"Oh princess, you're so fucking dead." 

"Wait, no Steve - Stevie - c'mon don't, I'm sorry." You pleaded. It was all you could manage when he was looking at you the same way a predator watches its prey, slowly closing the distance with a large step forward that dwarfed the one you took back. 

You had hoped the nickname would make him melt, tried to make your voice curl all sweet around it in the way that had always made Steve cave before. 

But he only chuckled, tutting soft and full of taunt. "Nuh uh, you don't get to say my name like that after you fed me to a zombie and just expect me to forgive you. Better run before I decide to take a bite of my own." 

Jesus fucking christ.

That shouldn't have made your lips part. It shouldn't have made you stare wide-eyed, breath caught in your throat and a bloom of warmth hitting your cheeks.

But, fuck , it did because Steve was prowling towards you with a careless hand running through his hair and a devilish look that somehow made him prettier than he already was, an unholy kind of handsome that made you want to drop to your knees at his feet.

Wasn't that a thought you didn't need in your head right now.

And so before he had the chance to tell that you were far more affected than you should be, undoubtedly able to see right through you like he always had, you decided to take his advice. 

You turned heel and bolted. 

There was a flood of smoke that surrounded you the moment you rushed through the door. Lights flashing candy-red and when you spared a glance at the heavy-framed portraits that adorned the walls whilst you ran, Steve's laugh and the heavy thud of his footsteps echoing behind you, it instantly gave you the eerie feeling of being watched. 

The place was a maze of doors. Some that led to creatures who were ready to pounce the second you appeared, a werewolf in chains that clanked as it howled and clawed at the floorboards, a killer clown who cackled as they lunged forward, hacking at the air with a blood-soaked kitchen knife.

They all whooped and hollered when you raced past them, manic yells of taunts that followed you down another hallway, around another corner where you nearly crashed into a girl all in white, throat torn and eyes milk-pale as she blinked at you. 

If you startled her she did a good job of not showing it, offering a simple warning that ' you can't run forever, the house always wins' before she drifted back to where she had previously been hidden, muttering and wailing as she went. 

She was gone before you could reply that it wasn't the house you were really running from but in fact your best friend. And that the only reason you were running through the attraction instead of taking your time to enjoy it like you had paid to, was because you couldn't handle how you burned with Steve's hands on you and the way you still ached to kiss him with his fingers dug into your skin and his laughter in your hair.

So instead you had 'fed' him to a creature of the undead and hell, maybe it was a good job the girl had disappeared before you could blurt any of that out, because you definitely sounded crazy and the boy that was supposedly chasing you was nowhere to be seen. 

It made you pause when you realised. 

Had you lost him?

It didn't seem likely. 

'Cause yeah, the attraction was like a labyrinth but Steve had navigated through much worse, much more disorientating places and faced things a lot scarier than a couple of kids in costumes because something or some circumstance had dared to separate the two of you. 

And really, after all of that, what chance did a haunted house stand against Steve Harrington's relentlessness when it came to finding you? 

It was why you stepped into the next room a little more warily, breath held and tiptoeing, cursing the floorboards that still groaned beneath your feet and you threw a suspicious gaze over your shoulder every now and again before quickly looking ahead once more.

This one was almost too dark, too creepy, lit only by the occasional flash of bright white that was supposed to be lightning coming from the shattered windows, strong gusts of air whistling through the cracked glass and made it seem like the room itself was groaning. 

You swore if some psycho possessed doll came running at you from out of nowhere then you would kill Steve for not being here for you to hide behind. Whatever revenge he had planned for you be damned. 

So when a hand smoothed over your head you were done. Over it. Prepared to run like hell the rest of the way out of this damn house because your throat burned from the embarrassing shriek you just let out, your cheeks hot, heart pounding, and there was still someone's spindly fingers petting at your hair. 

Catching lightly at the ends when you spun just in time to barely make out the shadow of a chuckling figure skulking back into the corner. 

An ichor-stained grin of razor-sharp teeth that split their whole lower face beneath their hood as the lightning cracked again and allowed you a split second of visibility to watch the mocking little wave they gave you. 

At the end of the night you would adamantly say it was their fault for what followed. 

Despite the fact that you should have known better than to take your mind off of Steve for more than a few minutes, that you don't enter through a new door without checking what lies beyond it at least once . 

But instead, you kept your gaze on your creepy friend with the smile.

Ignored what could possibly be in the next room in favour of watching for any signs they would run for you as you fled. Daring them with narrowed eyes to stay where they were whilst you retreated and your hand fumbled behind your back for the doorknob, cheering quietly when you finally felt the cool shock of metal.

The door clicked with a taunting kind of finality when you got it shut. The type that left a silence you knew you couldn't trust in its wake, a beat of it passing, two, surprised when you turned and stared down the length of a hallway to what seemed like the exit at the end. 

It wasn't what you had expected, gore and horror swapped for cobwebbed walls and rubber spiders and plastic bats with lopsided wings that hung from the ceiling. An antique grandfather clock and bookcases lining the room that were loaded with old tomes and trinkets.

The lights were softer than any of the previous rooms too, less pulsing neons and more steady waves of violet and midnight blue that, despite where you still were, instantly made you feel calm. Safer.

You should have known. 

You'd seen all the horrors. Watched countless victims make the same mistake over and over because the fact usually was, if someone or something looked harmless, if escaping ever looked too easy? As simple as a straight run to the way out? 

Chances were it was most definitely a trap. 

But you weren't thinking about horror movies. Not when whilst you were standing there, someone from deeper inside the belly of the house screamed, a shrill sounding thing that was enough for you to shake your head, muttering a soft 'nope' before your feet started forward on their own accord. 

And of course that was when it happened. 

There was a swinging creak, a whoosh of cooler air. Two large hands catching at your waist and dragging you against a broad, warm body, your back flush to the person's front and just when you were about to scream they spoke. A lightly stubbled jaw scraping along your cheek as they dipped their head to whisper. 

"Caught you, princess."  

What the hell? Where did he even come fr-

A quick glance to the side answered that. A fake bookcase. A hidden door. The type of thing you really should have seen coming.

God, you'd been beaten by a total cliché. 

It was enough to make you want to scream for a completely different reason, fear swiftly morphing to frustration, but then another question raised quickly in in place of the first and Steve must have sensed your confusion. 

"Remember Michael Reid, the kid I helped coach that summer?" He murmured, a touch smug, like he never planned on letting you live this down. "He's working this part and let me swap in when I told him there was someone in here I needed to teach a lesson."

You swore then, quick and hushed under your breath, a sound that made the boy behind you snicker into hair, utterly entertained by your reaction.

His broad chest was a rumbling warmth at your back and you could fucking feel the way his lips tugged into a shit eating grin when he notched his chin at your crown.

"Jesus christ, Harrington, think you could have managed it without giving me a fuckin' heart attack? Get off me." You snapped, barely any heat behind it, because despite your words you were that little bit delighted to see him. 

You were just also annoyed at yourself for losing, petulant that you'd known something was suspicious and yet still walked directly into your best friend's trap. 

And Steve knew it. Utterly unfazed by your sharp tone and your attempts to fight him off, simply pressing the smile that he knew would get him in trouble to the back of your head whilst you wriggled in his hold.

You swatted at his arms that wound around your stomach, fingertips pinching at nothing but the thick wool of his coat sleeves before you sagged back with a defeated groan when he somehow managed to cling to you tighter. Rolling your eyes, lips twisted to hide a smile because Steve sounded far too pleased with himself already as he curled you into him. 

"Aww c'mon don't be like that, didn't you miss me?" He tsked, laugh soft in his throat as he smacked his lips to your cheek in a quick, messy kiss, all charm and just a touch patronising whilst you huffed. "Bet it wasn't half as fun running around in there without me to hide behind." 

"I don't know about that," You muttered but it was full of tease, mischief, and you knew that he had picked up on it the moment you shifted to the side so you could turn your face to look back at the boy. He dipped his chin to meet your gaze. Nose just shy of bumping yours and a brow raised like a dare."It was nice not having you screaming in my ear every time something touches your hair." 

The effect was immediate. 

Because Steve broke the hold he had on so fast that you would have fallen had it not been for the warm weight of his hands quickly reappearing on your hips, spinning you around until your chest bumped against his.

Until you were face to face, sharing the same breaths, his expression akin to something both amused and insulted. Like he just couldn't wait to argue this with you.

Hopefully, he wouldn't notice how your mind instantly went blank. 

Because your best friend looked far too pretty up close, in this kind of light, softened by the faint purples and blues that slanted over the angles of his face, all wild hair curling at the edges from the heat inside the house and eyes near black in the dark. 

Jesus, did he have to look so good all the damn time.

"You take that back." He demanded, his voice far too fond to hold any real threat but you still shook your head, both to clear it of the effect Steve Harrington had on you and also because you couldn't resist the need to provoke the boy. Just a little, just like you always had. 

The way that both you and Steve would never admit to enjoying far too much. 

"And if I don't?" You countered, hands pressed to his chest in a little shove and chin raised in playful defiance as you grinned. "What're you gonna do, zombie Steve, eat me? " 

He stared, lips parted, cheeks a little pink, and made some kind of strangled noise before his grin reappeared, wolfish, voice scandalised. "Is that what you'd like? Want me to just eat you up right here? Never pictured you as the type, princess." 

Steve watched with delight then as you blinked, nose scrunched up in confusion for just a few adorable seconds and then your mouth fell open into a pretty little 'o' that had his grin splitting wider, eyes shining. Endlessly amused when you choked out his name in admonishment and grew flustered. 

"Not what I was talking about and you know it, Harrington." You spluttered. 

He pulled you to him, chuckling, as you covered your face with your hands. But you went with no more resistance than a quiet grumble passing your lips, a soft little noise of embarrassment that always made Steve's chest go warm for you. 

"S'not my fault you make it too easy." He shrugged, all feigned innocence, smiling too sweet as he dropped a kiss to the top of your head. 

You snorted from where you were buried in his coat, the grin you couldn't help hidden as you let him shuffle you both back until you were no longer stood in the centre of the walkway, careful not to trip on a rubber rat or the edge of the threadbare rug whilst he kept you close. 

And when the quiet was broken by a group spilling through the door, old classmates of yours and Steve's, you jumped and the boy gathered you a little closer than you thought possible, arms wrapping protectively around your shoulders before he realised they weren't some kind of danger and relaxed. 

They were too caught up in the effects of the house, too busy pushing and shoving, winding each other up over who had screamed the loudest, to really pay attention to the two of you entwined. Steve pressed to the bookcase and you pressed tight to Steve, legs tangled. 

And you were glad of their distraction when you recognised the voices, not really wanting to spend another year, or however long it took last time, with that familiar bitter taste in your mouth as you were forced to explain no, Steve and I aren't dating, no, there's really no chance of that changing and yes, we really just are best friends.

It sometimes made you wonder if they saw something you couldn't, what they saw at all when they watched the way the boy would blindly tug you into him whenever you appeared at his side, the way you'd fit yourself to him when he did, head resting lazily against his shoulder. 

There'd be soft smiles on your faces from the moment you were joined and every time Steve said something to you he would make sure to look down, gaze all kinds of warm as it roamed your features. 

A little like it was now when you drew back to peek up at him. 

You, on the other hand, were still burning, cheeks hot and a nervous kind of energy thrumming in your chest and the way the boy was looking at you was decidedly not helping. 

In fact, you were fully prepared to shove your face back into the soft wool of his scarf that smelled like him, attempting to cover the fact that you were trying to look anywhere but at your best friend because the image he had planted in your head refused to fucking leave . 

But then Steve was refusing to let you go back into hiding, refusing to let you watch your hands twist and untwist in his lapels like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He curled his fingers beneath your chin before you could duck your head again, tipping your face up and keeping your gaze fixed on his.

It was a branding kind of touch, once that demanded every ounce of attention you could possibly give and you swallowed, throat tight. 

"You're despicable, y'know that." You told him, blurted it out before you could make a fool of yourself staring at him any longer than you already had, a bit dumbfounded. Too stunned to function normally.

But it came out more breathless than you wanted, far less offended than you tried so hard to pretend and more like the situation had punched you straight in the chest. Broken ribs and true feelings spilling out through the cracks faster than you could hold them back.  

You wanted to wince but Steve was already failing to bite back a smile that was all tease and charm. Moving a little closer as he angled away from the shelves that were digging into his back.  

"M'sorry." He replied, sounding not very sorry at all, a little bit distracted because he couldn't stop his gaze from flickering down to your mouth. The hand that rested at your waist gave an absent-minded squeeze and he matched your shaky inhale when the pad of his thumb gently brushed the plush of your lower lip. "You're just so pretty when you get all flustered, couldn't help it." 

It sounded like an admission rather than a taunt. And by the way that Steve's eyes suddenly darted back to yours, slightly wide with nerves, you had to wonder if it was a thought he maybe hadn't meant to voice. 

But he had and now there was a rolling feeling in your chest, your stomach, like everything had flipped at the boy's words and you had to fight to stamp it all down, to keep your features completely neutral because what if it didn't actually mean what your silly little heart was hoping it did? It's not like Steve hadn't called you pretty before, right? 

Just maybe not like this. 

Not like it was something he'd spent time thinking about and wanted to do something about it. 

You forced a chuckle, a last ditch attempt at making a joke so you could save yourself from saying something truly stupid. "You tryin' to say I'm not pretty all the time, Steven?"

"If you don't stop calling me that, we're gonna have another problem." He warned back, but his voice was warm and there was a spark in his eyes that looked like newfound bravery when he shook his head. His nose nudging yours before he cleared his throat. "And no, that's definitely not what I'm saying, sweetheart. You've always been too fuckin' pretty."   

"Steve…" 

There was muffled shouts that grew loud, that any other time would have been deafening when the door flung open once more, the sound of the wood smacking off the wall drowned out by voices and pounding footsteps as another group fled. 

But the only thing you or Steve could see was each other, the way he was close enough that his breath fanned across your lips, tasting like sugar and Steve, the hint of mint underneath. The way your eyes had grown dark, a little wild with longing. 

The house drifted away, the screams, the manic laughter, the blood and the cobwebs and the lights that bathed you both in a soft haze of violet and navy. All of it disappeared the moment Steve licked his lips, a nervous habit, whilst he pressed his thumb to the corner of your own and whispered.

"Made it real impossible to not do the whole 'falling for your best friend' thing, y'know." 

He said it slow and soft, shyer than you'd ever seen him, eyes watching you carefully under the fringe of his lashes like he was praying he wasn't about to scare you away and shit , you thought, he really has no idea does he? 

And you couldn't help it. You laughed. 

Not unkindly, you could never, but a little strangled, a touch delirious because those words had set off a thousand fireworks in your chest and the feeling was so overwhelming, fizzing beneath your ribs, that it felt like it should have been a fever dream. 

Which would make sense. Because you had always been so sure that that would be the only way you would ever hear Steve say that he was in love with you. 

But no, this was real, and so was the faintly crushed look on Steve's face as he watched you laugh, completely misunderstanding, misinterpreting your disbelief for rejection and you quickly realised your mistake when he made to pull back. 

"Forget I said anything -" He began, swallowing hard, throat bobbing as he tried to mask the hurt and the words fell out of your mouth faster than your brain could keep up with, panic laced and frantic. 

"No - fuck , Steve- wait -" you begged, hands scrambling for his collar, for Steve's own hand that was slowly about to drop from your face and the boy stilled when you grabbed it and pressed it to your cheek, cradled within your own. A hesitant kind of hope in his eyes as you took a breath. "I wasn't laughing at you I swear, it's just, god , you have no idea how long I've wanted to hear those words from you and then you said them and I just -" 

"How long?"

"What?" 

"How long have you waited?" Steve repeated, a slow magic kind of grin appearing on his face that made your heart flip, your pulse doing its best impression of a hummingbird's heartbeat as he moved into you, a hand splayed at your back and his thumb stroking sweet arcs over your cheekbone. "Need to know how much making up I've got to do for being such an idiot and being too scared to tell you how I felt sooner." 

You laughed again, a little softer this time, a shade embarrassed because you had loved the boy in front of you for longer than you could remember and it felt crazy that after hiding it for so many years, you were finally about to tell him. 

"Oh y'know," you shrugged, fingers toying with the fabric of his scarf at the nape of his neck, hand sliding from its place atop of his to gently grasp his wrist. It was impossible to resist the smile that tugged at your lips as he leaned to touch his forehead to yours, eyes sparkling as he waited. "Not long, maybe ten years or so."  

If Steve was surprised he didn't show it, instead he looked at you like he understood completely. Like he knew himself how it felt to love your best friend that long. 

But still he let out a low whistle under his breath, trying to sound as serious as he could despite the way his cheeks had grown sore with the smile that lit his face. His heart misbehaving in his chest as he cupped your jaw. 

"That's a long time to make up for." He mused, voice hushed as he tilted his head, his mouth almost brushing yours as he spoke. 

The anticipation made you feel like you were going to implode. Electric beneath your skin. 

"It is." You agreed, just as quiet, curling a hand around his neck and leaning a little heavier against him because you suddenly felt far too unsteady. "What are you going to do about it?" 

His breath hitched a little at your soft-spoken challenge but still he couldn't resist a final tease. "You askin' me to kiss you for the first time in a haunted house?" He tsked. "I know you love them but if you think we're comin' back here every year for our anniversary-"

"Harrington?" 

"Yeah, princess?" 

"Shut up and kiss me" You huffed, smile fond, sighing against the boy's mouth when he gave a breathtaking grin and did just that. 

It was a gentle push of his lips to yours, a sweet, warm, languid thing that pulled a soft noise from your throat and made your chest feel like it was gonna burst because your best friend was kissing you like you were the most precious thing in his life, like he'd waited a lifetime for this moment and wanted you to know he'd happily spend another just like this.  

He gripped you a little firmer as you melted into him, a golden feeling fizzing in his belly and a lovesick kind of smile on his lips when you murmured something sweet and pushed up on your toes for more. Your hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling, tugging, and when you licked softly at his bottom lip to ask him to open for you, the boy gifted you with a low, quiet groan before giving you what you wanted. 

The sound was enough to make you feel drunk, dizzy on the way his tongue slid against yours and that Steve got greedier, a little messier, the instant you gently nipped at him. His hand fused to your jaw and your own name pressed into your mouth on a hitched breath as he kissed you over and over and over.

And when you finally parted, it was with glassy-eyed looks, kiss swollen lips and heaving chests. Disgustingly sweet grins that didn't even falter when another group came barreling through and reminded the two of you, quite ear-splittingly, that you were still very much inside of an attraction. 

Instead Steve chuckled and pressed a kiss to your forehead, your nose, another two to both your cheeks whilst he pushed away from the bookshelf and wrapped both arms around you to spin you in a crushing hug. 

"Steve put me down!" You laughed, a bright burst that made the boy light up even more and when you finally got away, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling, he stole your heart all over again with the most beautiful smile you'd ever seen.

A hand reaching out for you to place your own in as he asked. "Wanna get out of here? Maybe find somewhere a little less creepy where we can talk and make some more of that time up?" 

And how on earth could you say no to that? To Steve and the way he was looking at you, slightly shy, like his lips weren't still glossy from your kisses. 

You couldn't. Never had been able to if you were honest. 

So you placed your hand in his, heart fluttering when he smiled soft at the way your fingers so easily entwined, and let him lead you to the exit. To something new, to something far more exciting than any haunted house could ever be. 

Taglist: @the-witty-pen-name

[hiiie]

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 !!

𓆩♡𓆪 summary - how they hold you while getting intimate

𓆩♡𓆪 characters - Kaeya, Alhaitham, Kaveh x fem reader

𓆩♡𓆪 warnings - we're doing it raw today guys, creampie, teasing, degrading, mirror fucking, kaveh gobbling up yr pussy

✧ ALHAITHAM ✧

Another mean one, he always has his ways with you, it’s frustrating really, to have him dominate you, push your face into the silky sheets on his bed, bully his way inside your gooey cunt, degrading you until you’re sobbing, all while holding your hands tenderly

His balls slapping against your ass so harsh making sounds echo through his room, you almost felt pity for his roommate until that one particular thrust pulling your thoughts back to him, making your back arched in an inhumane way, you’re so sure that you wouldn’t make it through tonight without snapping your spine in half

“Tell me…do you want me to cum inside hmm dear?”

“Aah-! Please!” His hand applying pressure on your abdomen with a shit eating smirk on his face, knowing full well you love it when he does that, when his eyes met yours his breath got caught up in his throat

His deep green eyes bore into your glassy teary ones, you can’t help but look down where both of you were connected, a combination of your cum and his making a mess, his fingers now toying with your pussy

“Cum with me then”

It was like magic, his words had a heavy impact on you, he leaned down kissing your cheek so sweetly that you could’ve melted on the spot, you came alongside him, strings of his warm fluid painting your insides white, some of your combined liquids flow out your gaping hole as he pulled out

✧KAEYA✧

Holding your waist with one of his hand and the other on your thigh, drawing spreading it wider for him to access and admire his prized jewel. His thrusts are getting quicker, sharper, his hips banging against your puffy clit so hard it made your eyes roll to the back of your head making you see stars, mouth agape but alas no words came out of it, you let out a breathy moan of his name.

It was as if he actually fucked you dumb and turned you into his mindless cumdump

“How adorable” he leaned close beside your ear, cradling your chin between his pointer finger and thumb “Does my cock actually feel that good huh..” his breath makes you tingle

He pulled away, admiring his latest artwork, he his hand leaves your waist and presses down on the bites he made on your collarbone, “N—ngh” earning an annoyed whine from you

“Tsk what a spoiled brat”

He stopped his thrusts completely before pulling his cock out of your pussy, he left you alone, all messy and wanting more

Sure you can call him a bastard and other mean names but he’s the only who could make you cum right now but he's capable of refraining himself from touching you unless you get on your knees and beg for him

Oh— don’t expect him to be gentle either.

✧KAVEH✧

A mirror placed in front of you, on it reflects a pornographic scene of you getting fucked by your lover, not in a brutal way, no no kaveh would never

Oh he’s just so soft, so gentle and so patient with you, he holds you in the most loving way possible, his arms around your waist protectively helping you bounce on his cock, hands lingering everywhere on your body but your pussy, mumbling sweet I love yous into your ear, you can hear every little sounds that escapes through his pretty lips

The loud groan when you ‘accidentally’ tighten around him whist his cock brushes against your cervix, directly sending tingles down your spine, giving you goosebumps

He licks a stripe down your jawline to your shoulder, then proceeds to suck and nibble on it, leaving evident bite marks, marking his property

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at the lewd scene in the mirror, because you know that he’s looking right at you like a predator eyeing it’s prey. He’s mumbling praises, even adding words you didn’t knew existed until now, worshipping your body like he’s your devoted little believer, your moans sound so heavenly so angelic to him

His grip on your waist getting tighter as he gets closer to sweet release, peppering gentle kisses on your skin, you'll think this is over? nahh its just the appetizer— he hasn't even got to the main course yet, are you that cruel to let him starve and not allow him to eat you out?

[wandaslittlelove]

Destined Part 3

Warnings: smut, fingering (r receiving), enchanted strap (r receiving), breeding, forced pregnancy

Series Masterlist

It had been about a week since Wanda brought me to this cabin. Within the week she had been playing nice. No yelling, no magic use, nothing. Just pure sweetness. I’m not sure what terrified me more. She had been cooking meals for me everyday, leaving small lingering kisses on my cheek, and allowing me to have free roam of the cabin. She even occasionally let me outside.

The small cabin was surrounded by trees that seemed to stretch for miles. On one side of the cabin there was a sheep pin and the other side was a small little Garden that she would tend to everyday around noon. I wasn’t allowed any further than the end of the sheep pin which was something she made very clear on the first day I was here.

Now though as I sat in the living room watching the tv that Wanda had turned on for me before she went back through the portal to her “castle” I could feel a feeling rise up into me that signified something wasn’t right.

I heard the angry footsteps before I saw her. They echoed throughout the house as she got closer. The closer she got the worse the feeling in my stomach become.

Soon I was face to face with a furious Wanda and before I could say anything she was gripping me by the hair and dragging me to the bedroom. I was forced onto the bed and quickly found my arms tied to the bed with her magic. She angrily mumbled something before flicking her wrist causing my clothes to disappear.

“Wanda? Wanda stop!” I begged as she began to remove her clothes as well. Although that only seemed to make her angrier as she gripped my throat tightly.

“Shut up slut. I have not had a good day. Now be good and let me use you”

Bringing one of her hands up she began to pinch and tug at my nipples. I could already feel my body reacting to the familiar touch as I arched up into her and tried to keep from moaning. I hate that my body still wanted her after everything. As she pulled on my nipples the anger on her face slowly started to disappear a little.

As I closed my eyes and allowed myself to relax a little I felt something rub up against my cunt. I opened my eyes quickly and looked down panicked only to be shushed by Wanda.

“Hush detka it’s okay. Mommy’s just going to fill you up with her strap okay. Just wanna feel you” I had heard that sentence multiple times. And by the wording I knew she had enchanted it. We had done it many times before with her always pulling out in fear I may actually get pregnant since neither of us really knew what her magic was capable of.

I gasped as I felt two of her fingers enter me before she started to curl and scissor them, stretching me out. Leaning down she kissed me softly before loosening her grip on my neck.

“Being such a good girl for me. Just gotta stretch you” she mumbled as my stomach began to tighten signaling my orgasm. She brought her thumb to rub my clit in quick circles and began to suck on my neck no doubt leaving hickeys behind. With a loud moan I came all over her fingers and felt her smile against me before pulling away.

As I regained my breath I was given no warning as she began to slowly enter me with the strap. Even being prepared I still struggled against my magical restraints as I felt my walls tighten around her. She let out a chocked moan before slamming into me fully. Her hands were on my hips as she breathed heavily with her eyes closed. Her lips were between her teeth and her grip on my waist tightened before she slowly pulled out only to roughly thrust back in and kept repeating it.

“God, you feel so good around me. So tight and warm. Never gonna get tired of being inside you” her thrusts grew rougher and faster as she felt my arousal leak around her as well as the remnants of my first orgasm. I couldn’t hold back the moans anymore they grew louder the closer I got.

As her thrust began to grow sloppy I could tell she was close. With a weak body I attempted to struggle against my restraints wanting to touch her.

“Mo- mommy please. Wanna touch you” she looks down at me and shakes her head.

“I can’t detka. Can’t- fuck can’t have you trying to push me away when I pump my cum into you. Strange wants to say my kids aren’t real I’ll fucking show him” slowly I became more conscious the closer she got to her orgasm. She was going to come inside of me and there was nothing I could do. I knew nothing I said would stop her and I was to powerless to push her off. And maybe a piece of me wanted this. Wanted to be hers and have a family with her.

Just the thought alone made me get closer and closer to my orgasm. And the tightening of my walls caused her to get closer as well.

“Cum with me princessa. Cum with mommy” with a loud cry of her name I came around her strap soaking it with my juices. Not even seconds later I felt her still and the warmth of her cum filling my womb. With a couple more small thrusts to make the cum go deeper she collapsed on top of me with a sigh.

After a few minutes she begins to pull out causing me to whine and she stops.

“My needy slut. I’ll stay in you for a little but then we have to clean you up and get you some water.” Moving around a bit she finally settled in with me laying on top of her strap still buried inside me and drops of her cum leaking out.

Tag List: @alexawynters @username23345 @casquinhaa @idontknow-llol @delulu-bayolet-era @dorabledewdroop @bananasplits-world

[mvrkieboo]

Old Bloodhounds

P49 | then don't fucking go

You were nervous to say the least. Parting with everyone else took a lot out of you, yes, but with Soyeon it was…going to absolutely break you. Back when you were still a highschool senior, Soyeon had been your foster mother up until you were officially a college student. In fact, you actually considered her a mother figure in your life.

It was why you pushed back this parting the most.

Soyeon arrived with your favorite drink and meal that wasn't even available as a menu for the cafe. How did she know you haven't eaten your lunch yet? It was already 3 p.m. Most people wouldn't have bothered serving them past 2 o’clock without being asked to first.

You didn't want to do this.

“How have you been?” Her gentle voice prodded your defenses, making your shoulders slump.

“...I'm managing, auntie.” You answered simply, prodding the food with a fork.

“I've met your brother, a wonderful young man, and I noticed your dimples resemble his. You're such a lucky girl, aren't you? Now that Yuno's back, you have three older brothers in your family. Geonwoo and Woojin already treat him like he's one of you.” Soyeon cooed, and her words made you pause, your fork in mid air above the meal.

You recovered though, resuming your meal.

“Haven't you heard? I've moved out of the condo, and they're not really talking to me now. I get the sense they don't even like me anymore.” In front of everyone, you could act like you didn't care.

But there were two people you couldn't stand lying to. You were capable of lying to them, but it would be a lousy job—because you're falling apart already.

Soyeon and your dad.

Her right hand reached across the table, holding your face delicately. You were sure Geonwoo had told her what you did to them, so why? Why was she still so fond of you? Why was she still so open with her love for you? You couldn't help it and focused your eyes on her, facing her directly. Her thumb stroked upon your face, at the distended cheeks, your mouth still full of food, and it made you swallow the contents of your mouth. She looked so heartbroken over you.

“You don't get to push me away, Y/N. I'll forever be your mother for as long as I live—and as long as I'm still your mother, those boys will always be your brothers.” As she looked at your face more clearly, she noted there were attempts in veiling just how tired you are; with the heavy concealer to cover up your eyebags, your hair seeming thinner than usual—and your face seeming more gaunt than before.

“What's wrong, sweetie? Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to push us away? Did we do something wrong? Why aren't you coming to the party tonight?” At her onslaught of questions, you finally broke down, dropping down the cutleries so your hands could cover your face, to shield her from the tears you were shedding.

Your locket felt heavier than usual, and there was phantom pressure on your nape, as if reminding you that Yoonsu was always watching over you.

“No, it's me. I'm the wrong one, but I can't help it, auntie. Junyoung, he’s my whole world, he had been my rock—and now he's lonely, so he needs me more than ever. I have to be there for him, always. So it's not like I want to push you away, but I can't be apart from him.” You sobbed, placing your hands on the table so she could hold on to it.

“Then what about your brothers, Y/N? What about your other friends? I don't care for how long you'll go without talking to me, because I'm your mother no matter what—but they—friends and siblings can be a little more selfish than a parent. They want you around, always, so they know that they're your needed person too. So what about them, sweetie?” She asked you without the accusatory tone. She was just worried for you, and her genuine concern broke your heart even harder.

“You said it yourself, they're a little more selfish than you'll ever be, but I've made my peace. I don't blame them, and I don't want to bother them anymore. The damage is done.” You sobered up a little bit, taking a sip of your drink.

You saw how Soyeon deflated, and that's when you knew the damage done had turned irreparable. Now even she believed you wanted nothing to do with them anymore so you could completely become Yoonsu's sole needed person, but it still hurt. You'd always need them, you were always yearning for them, but Yoonsu would never allow you to let anyone in your life hope for your return. Unfortunately for you, that included the woman you could shamelessly call your mother.

But this was only making your vendetta against Yoonsu stronger, and you needed this. You needed the drive in making this revenge work.

“Take care of Yuno for me. It's been a long time since he had a mother figure in his life, and tell him I'm happy for him. Bye, mom.” You spoke rather quietly, before getting up from the table and abruptly leaving the cafe.

As you walked down the street, you realised you had finally cut off the last person in your life that still hoped for your return.

Now you're finally all alone.

Then your blood ran cold.

You're finally alone now.

There's only one last step left in Yoonsu's plan for you.

To kill you.

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A/N : :))))) triple update complete!

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

• taglist • [CLOSED]

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[90ekz]

ive head this nagging thought in the back of my head that satoru has some kinda random spot on his body that’ll make him instantly pop a bone. I DONT KNOW JUST WORK WITH ME HERE PLS 🙏 i love your works btw 😘

✧ sweet spot, ft. satoru gojo

✧ tags: mostly fluff, whiny satoru, ‘baby’ as a nickname, did i say mostly fluff already??, dry humping, overstim, loser satoru cs he’s mushy and in love

✧ an: this idea is now living in my head and not paying rent, thanks a lot anon :/

satoru usually just does his own hair care, and he’s very meticulous about it. he wants everything to be clean and pristine—not that you weren’t capable of doing that for him, he’s just very, very dramatic. he didn’t even know this spot was sensitive until… literally now.

he’s standing in the bathroom as you brush your teeth, absentmindedly rubbing his hand over his growing undercut. he figured it was time for him to cut it anyway, but his arms were very sore from some training he’d done with the kids yesterday.

“babe.”

“y’esh?” he chuckled at your mouthful of the minty paste, and just waited for you to finish brushing. when you finally did, you turned to face him as he brushed his thumb over the white pooling on the corner of your mouth.

“can you cut my hair today? ‘arms are so sore.” satoru whined, his finger still tracing your lip lazily.

“have you washed it? i don’t need your lice transferring to me—ouch! okay, okay, plug in the clippers!” you giggled as he pinched your lip. the clippers rested on his side of the sink, and he plugged them in wordlessly. you stood behind him, lightly brushing the area with the small brush you know is the most comfortable for him. satoru sighs lightly as you do this, and his shoulders relax.

he didn’t know exactly what it was, but your hands felt different than his. you made him so sensitive usually anyway, but this was weird. his cheeks were heating, and everything was tingling, not just his neck.

and then you did it.

the clippers worked in upward strokes as you trimmed the hair down, and suddenly your thumb brushed over some magical pressure point of his. satoru felt pleasure shoot down his spine like he never had before, and a almost girly squeak slipped out before he could stop it. your eyes go wide and you remove the clippers from his neck. satoru is deathly still, and you watched color bloom over his cheeks in the mirror.

“…you okay sato’?” the nickname drips off your tongue like honey—so effortless, so intimate, and he hates that you decided to use it right now. he can’t take it. you’ve never called him that, and he can hear the amused tilt in your voice.

satoru gulps, because he doesn’t know what to say. how does he say that he wants you to keep going, to keep brushing over that exact spot so he can pinpoint exactly what that feeling was just now? he’s never felt anything like that when he cut his own hair…

he settles on a weak little “i’m fine, baby,” because frankly? he doesn’t trust himself to say any other words right now.

you give him a little smile in the mirror before your hands start working again, and you finally start getting somewhere with actually cutting his damn hair. he doesn’t feel anything out of the ordinary happen anymore, and now he’s finally cleanly shaven again like he likes. you did an exceptional job, and satoru peppers you with kisses as a reward.

he mostly stops thinking about it after this.

yeah, maybe the thought lingers in the back of his head for a few hours after, and maybe he stands in the bathroom rubbing his thumb over the back of his neck for a little longer than considered normal, but it was fine.

except for when you call him down to finish watching the movie you’d started earlier, and he’s laying on your chest as you run your fingers through his hair. satoru isn’t even paying attention to what your hand is doing as he yaps about the plot of the film, and you listen.

“he’s a piece of shit! i mean, he stayed with his side piece on the plane, and made his wife drive in the snow? fuck mike ‘till it’s backwards.” satoru spits, his attention fully focused on the movie’s plot.

unlike you, who’s mind was still in the bathroom, cutting satoru’s hair.

you haven’t stopped thinking about the little noise he’d made as you’d accidentally pressed your finger over the nape of his neck, right where the hair started. he sounded so weak—so vulnerable, and you decided right then that you needed to hear much more of that.

your mind was now solely focused on one thing, and your hand was moving just as it was in the bathroom. you twirled your fingers around strands, until finally threading your fingers through his hair and giving a small tug. this tore a stuttered breath out of satoru, and you smiled. he’d gone a little more rigid against you, and his commentary had stopped as you payed so much attention to him. he was losing focus of the movie, too.

“b-babe,”

“hmm?” you hummed back, fingers now traveling from his hair to his lower neck, tracing small circles there. you knew what you were looking for, but why not tease a little first?

satoru couldn’t answer you if he tried—every word in his throat dies as you press down onto that spot once more, and he’s slamming his hand on-top of yours to make sure you don’t move it. he isn’t sure why he does that exactly, but why does it matter? why does anything matter when you’re touching him like this?

he can’t do this, just one press on his spot has his dick rising and stiff against your thigh, and even you can hardly believe it.

“sato.” you grip his hair to pull him off your chest, just enough to look at you. he whines from the mixture of the nickname and the sting of his scalp.

“b-baby, please.” satoru breathes. you know what he’s asking for, and you figured you’d done enough teasing for a while. you grin, rubbing your thumb back and forth over the pressure point back and forth, up and down, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he came just from this based on the sounds he was making. he hovers you, his arms barely holding his body up, and he’s heaving into your neck.

“breathe, satoru.”

“mmph—i will! i will, just please don’t stop,” satoru whines, his hips grinding down against your thigh. sure, this whole thing is embarrassing as hell, but he couldn’t help the cheeky grin that stretched across his face as you indulged him. as you ran your acrylics over the sensitive part of him, he dropped his head back into your shoulders, and his own started to shake violently.

he was laughing.

you were shocked by this, but you didn’t dare stop. at some point, you couldn’t help but snort a little as he grasped onto you. it was cute—the way his giggles melted into moans, the way he couldn’t control himself or his emotions in the moment. there were no coherent thoughts forming in his head except for fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.

and you loved it that way.

[lewkwoodnco]

no one’s ever had me (not like you) - anthony lockwood x reader

A day in the life of dating Anthony Lockwood

“Tell me about the first time you saw me.”

“Again?”

She nodded, drawing the blanket up to her chin as she pressed herself flush against his side as if any distance between them was simply too much. His arm settled comfortably across her shoulders, his fingers lazily tracing shapes on her skin, just underneath her sleeve. There was quiet, for a moment, as they took a second to just breathe together.

“Hmm. Let’s see. It was…November, was it?”

She gave him a playful dig in the ribs. “May, as you perfectly well know.”

“Ah, yes. May. Spring. The flowers smelled lovely.” He dipped his head, briefly pressing his lips against her skittering pulse, murmuring against the warm skin of her throat. “Or maybe it was you, smelling so sweet.”

a/n - the gif is only a tad bit misleading but I just feel like it fits the vibes so well 🥰🥰 this so high school fic was rlly very importu I thought it would just be a snippet hehehe but enjoy some cosy fluffy vibes! As always disclaimer this is a slightly aged up lockwood

tropes/warnings - domestic sillyness, fluff fluff fluff, one veryyy mild description of physical intimacy

word count - 2.1k!

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

By the time they had arrived at the site of the psychical investigation, Lockwood was well aware that they were rather late. Still, he was sure that they had made it just in time to meet a special someone. He anxiously weeded through the crowds of agents milling about. She couldn’t have left before they arrived, could she?

His answer came in the form of two very cold (due to poor circulation, as Lockwood was well aware of) hands covering his eyes from behind. “Guess who.”

“The world’s worst serial killer?”

The hands slipped away as he turned, coming face to face with a familiar grin.

“Close.” 

Lockwood pulled her into a hug, the first after far too long. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek against his. “You’re late.”

His arms tightened around her, and she squeezed back just as hard. His voice came out exaggeratedly pained. “You’re always pointing out my flaws.”

“What I mean is, you’re very late. I have to go now.”

He sucked in a breath sharply and his hold loosened as he pulled away to look at her face, a dismayed expression marring his features. “Already? I just got here.”

She glanced at her wristwatch. “I was supposed to have left five minutes ago, actually. One of the benefits of punctuality, you might find, is spending more time with your intelligent, highly capable, and hence increasingly busy, g-“

“I’ll come earlier tomorrow,” Lockwood promised earnestly.

She snorted. “Lockwood, you’ve never been on time a day in your life.” 

“What about dinner on Friday?” He asked desperately. “Did your time off get approved?”

She sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry.” Lockwood was starting to look majorly ticked off.

“This is ridiculous. Disrespectful, even. They work you like a dog, pay you peanuts, refuse to let you off for oneni-“

She tugged at the lapels of his coat until his forehead was touching hers. They only had seconds before she would be really too late, and she didn’t want to waste them arguing. Lockwood sighed wearily as his anger dissipated, loosely holding one of her wrists.

“You’re adorable when you’re worked up,” she started, once he looked sufficiently cooled off. He grudgingly pulled back to meet her gaze, distractedly running a thumb along her vein. She made to leave, but Lockwood refused to let go of her wrist, reeling her in one more time.

“Are you sure you still can’t sneak off?” He whispered. “George’s making ghormeh sabzi.”

She shook her head. “It’s field work. Can’t get out of it.”

“He’s going to be very upset when he hears that. He’s been looking forward to feeding you ghormeh sabzi all week, and he’s a busy man.”

She had a feeling he wasn’t talking about George anymore. She tiptoed as she kissed Lockwood’s nose in apology before he reluctantly let her slip away. She waved at his associates standing a short distance away.

“Bye, Luce. Bye, George. Goodbye, Lockwood.” From the look on his face, she just knew he was going to be melodramatic about this.

“You’re breaking his heart, Y/N!”

Later that week, Lockwood found her in the kitchen with Lucy and Holly, pouring over some paperwork while they enjoyed an afternoon snack. As preoccupied as he was, he didn’t miss the way her eyes lit up as he walked in, not immune to a giddy pulse of surprise himself.

“Hey.”

Lockwood gave a vague sound of acknowledgement, pressing a hurried kiss to the top of her head.

“H’llo. Can’t stay long, I’m afraid,” he said, whisking around the kitchen for a snack, before finally settling for one of the jammy dodgers on the counter. He peered over Lucy’s shoulder, trying to figure out Y/N’s writing upside down.

“What’s that you got there?”

She gave him a wan smile. “Oh, nothing. Just some case reports I need to finish up.”

“Need any help?” Lockwood asked, straightening. “I do those all the time.”

“Thanks, but I’ll be fine. I’ve been doing these since I was a kid.”

Lockwood paused mid-chew, a thin layer of icing sugar dusting his lips. “No, you haven’t. I was the one who taught you how to fill out those forms, remember? When we first started talking?” 

It had been a pretty crucial element in their getting-to-know-each-other phase, in fact. It helped her get her paperwork done correctly and on time, and it gave Lockwood the chance to chat with the pretty agent who glanced his way more often than normal. Now, however, he was feeling none of those warm and bubbly feelings he had come to associate with Y/N, as Lucy and Holly exchanged a meaningful look across the table.

“Hey, hey. What’s going on?”

Y/N busied herself with her forms, mumbling under her breath. Holly shot him a sympathetic look.

“Oh, Lockwood. I thought you knew by now.”

His eyes darted around, stupefied. “Knew what?”

“I knew he didn’t know,” Lucy offered, “for the record.”

“Luce…” Holly looked disapproving.

“It was bloody hilarious. Still is, actually.”

“Will someone tell me,” Lockwood demanded, only somewhat hysterically, “what the hell it is that I’m supposed to know?”

“Lockwood,” she started, awkwardly, “you can’t seriously believe anyone would hire an agent who couldn’t do up a simple case report.”

He looked so crestfallen it was almost funny. He blinked slowly, stunned, as he struggled with his words.

“So…so you let me -?”

“Yes.”

“Even though -“

“Exactly. Speaking of, you’re not very good at writing case reports. I see why you have George do them.”

Lucy choked on her tea badly and Holly started thumping her back. Lockwood took on a very faint tinge of pink, though he pressed on.

“But why?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I liked hearing your voice. Even if it was just you doing a poor job of explaining how to write case reports.”

He looked as though he didn’t quite know what to say to that. She didn’t know either.

“Lockwood,” interrupted Holly, sounding highly peeved between Lucy’s choking and his cluelessness, “I thought you were meeting the Smiths tonight.”

Lockwood’s eyes flicked to the clock near the stove and swore. He nearly pulled a muscle as he tripped over himself rushing out, a hurried goodbye yelled over his shoulder. She watched him run off with an odd wistfulness. In some other life, he spends the rest of the evening with her, laughing, talking, giving her hell for her underhanded flirting tactics. In some other life, they have time for each other.

“You came.” 

When Anthony Lockwood opened 35 Portland Row’s front door to someone incessantly knocking on a chilly Friday night, she was the last person he expected to see. A smile cracked across his face as he swept her up into a half-incredulous hug, his cold nose pressed against her jaw. 

When they disentangled themselves from each other, she could see his eyes shining with that special kind of joy that made her eyes hurt. “Don’t get too excited, now. I got a friend to cover for me tonight but I’ll be in hellish amounts of trouble if anyone finds out I’m gone.”

As they normally did on the rare occasions they were free to spend together, the two of them wandered around joined at the hip for the entire night. Holly, Kipps and the skull had been invited for a movie night in the library, the latter having been thoroughly threatened into behaving somewhat acceptably.

Perhaps the threats would have been better directed at her and Lockwood, though. When they weren’t being very loudly told off for whispering and snickering through the movie (Kipps took his cinematic experiences quite seriously), it was for hogging the popcorn bowl (it was Lockwood’s fault, she’d maintain) or for behaving like an overall nuisance. 

Once the movie finished, they decided to end the night with a game of Scrabble. Given that Lockwood was already starting to nod off, the two of them decided to preside over the game from where they were curled up in an armchair. Eventually, the players called it quits once George and Kipps started yelling abuse at each other over whether or not “klaqi” was a word. 

“Go to bed, you two,” Lucy called out as she crept up towards the attic, the rest of them having turned into their respective rooms and guest rooms. Lockwood yawned, lifting his head from where it had been resting in her shoulder.

“Well. You heard her.”

“Oh, come on. I just got here,” she said, in an amusing mimicry of Lockwood’s words earlier that week. Finally, finally, they had a few moments to themselves, and all he wanted to do was doze off. She had half a mind to shake him awake. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Five more minutes?”

Lockwood made an exaggerated show of listening to Lucy’s footsteps as the attic door creaked close. A small smile tugged at his lips as he forced his eyes open. “Five, and that’s it.”

She grinned. “Have I mentioned that my boyfriend is the best person in the whole entire world?”

He rolled his eyes, grumbling. “Yeah, well, don’t think I’ve forgotten about the whole case report lie.” His eyes roamed her face as he softly brushed an eyelash away. “I let you get away with far too much,” he mumbled. 

She impatiently brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, drinking in the sight of his bedroom eyes. “Tell me about the first time you saw me.”

“Again?”

She nodded, drawing the blanket up to her chin as she pressed herself flush against his side as if any distance between them was simply too much. His arm settled comfortably across her shoulders, his fingers lazily tracing shapes on her skin, just underneath her sleeve. There was quiet, for a moment, as they took a second to just breathe together.

“Hmm. Let’s see. It was…November, was it?”

She gave him a playful dig in the ribs. “May, as you perfectly well know.”

��Ah, yes. May. Spring. The flowers smelled lovely.” He dipped his head, briefly pressing his lips against her skittering pulse, murmuring against the warm skin of her throat. “Or maybe it was you, smelling so sweet.”

She felt her cheeks warm and she turned to bury her face into his shirt. “Shut up,” she whispered not-very-wittily. She felt him smile against her neck before looking up once again, his brow furrowing as he tried to sort through his sleep-fuddled memory.

“So. It was May. You were standing there with your shoelaces untied…wearing a freshly singed jacket. You had this terrible - and I mean terrible - scowl on your face, ‘cause you were getting chewed out by your supervisor,” Lockwood teased as she playfully narrowed her eyes at him. “You looked like you were going to set him on fire next. And all I remember thinking was,” Lockwood threaded the fingers of his other hand into one of hers, “was that I was looking at the prettiest girl in London and that I wanted to talk to her, but I hadn’t the faintest idea how or when.”

She couldn’t help it - her heart skipped a beat every time she heard those words. It fascinated her to no end how someone could love as openly and unabashedly as Lockwood.

“So aren’t you glad about the whole case report lie?”

He threw his head back in a bark of laughter and she watched him carefully, the dim light of the fireplace softening him into something delightfully easy on the eyes. “Yes. I’m very glad about the case report lie.” He raised their interlocked hands and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “I’m very glad I got to meet you, in case there was ever any doubt.”

They lapsed into a cosy silence, the exhaustion they were holding at bay finally getting the better of them. She felt her eyelids grow heavier as the crackle of the fire’s dying embers lulled them to sleep, Lockwood’s chest feeling wonderfully solid beneath her head.

“You’re sure it was May?”

She peeled her eyes open and, with considerable effort, shifted closer. “I couldn’t forget it even if I wanted to.” She looked up at Lockwood’s face. His eyes were still closed, and with his slow, measured breathing, he looked fast asleep. “Why?”

His words came out in barely a flutter of breath, easy to miss if she didn’t have his heart thumping right below her ear. 

“Could have sworn…I’ve known you forever.”

That night, she slept next to the one person who made her feel so young, so sprightly, so pervious to joy and heartbreak. So full of life and so ready to love. So high school, even.

TAGLIST: @neewtmas @midnight--raine @ahead-fullofdreams @how-to-stuff-and-things @cielooci @mohinithoughts @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @elenianag080 @avdiobliss @houseoftwistedspirits @mischivana @dangelnleif @mitskiswift99

[laurfilijames]

Flat To Filled

Pairing: Jax Teller x female reader

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Tig being a bit of a perv. Oral sex (M receiving). Unprotected intercourse. Sex in exchange for a service.

Summary: Your flat tire turns out to be a very happy nuisance, and a scene right out of a porno.

A/N: I got a flat tire a couple of months ago and came up with this idea while waiting for it to be repaired, though sadly not by Jax Teller.

---

"You've got to be fucking kidding," you mumbled under your breath, seeing the low tire pressure light illuminate on your dash.

It didn't seem like that long ago you had finished paying off the loan used to purchase the new set of tires, and as you put your car in park and climbed out of the driver's seat, you prayed it just needed some air and wasn't completely flat.

"Fuck."

The tire was smooshed right against the hot asphalt, and crouching down to run your hand along the circumference of the wheel, your fingers caught on a screw buried into the rubber.

At least you weren't rushing anywhere in particular, you thought, having only been on your way to grab yourself a coffee from the cafe in downtown Charming, laughing in realizing the irony in the situation that you were meant to be saving money anyway. The silver lining was that your flat just so happened to take place about two minutes down the road from Teller-Morrow Automotive Repair, and with the sun shining and feeling pleasantly warm on your skin, you didn't necessarily mind going for a walk.

The gates of the entrance were open as you approached, the yard full of Harley's and various members of the nefarious motorcycle club along with some vehicles actually being repaired by mechanics, your presence quickly being noticed by everyone in the vicinity.

"And how can I help you, sweetheart?" a man with black, curly hair and soul-piercing blue eyes drawled, his pervy tone making you grin and tilt your head in amusement as he stood straight from leaning over his bike and puffed his chest out, his hands securing themselves on his belt to help draw your attention to his crotch.

"I have a flat," you began to explain, hooking your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of where your car sat abandoned on the road. "I was hoping someone could take a look and hopefully patch it."

"Yeah, probably, but there's something else I can definitely help you with."

"Jesus Christ, Tig," another man's voice sounded from inside the garage. "Stop preying on innocent people."

The sight of the man defending you made your heart leap into your throat, and suddenly the mid-afternoon sun wasn't the cause of the sheen of sweat growing on your skin.

Messy, blond hair that rested at his shoulders surrounded his gorgeous face like a halo, and if the blue eyes on the first man were anything to admire, his were like looking into an abyss that would swallow you whole.

He didn't shy away from looking you over up and down, a crooked smile dressing his lips that were surrounded by scruffy, bleached stubble, his smile only spreading more to create lines around his mouth when his friend walked past him and slapped his shoulder.

"See, told ya."

He strutted into the garage while still looking back at you obviously, nearly tripping over his own feet, leaving you and the living incarnation of Helios standing somewhat awkwardly.

He nodded his head behind you, "So, what's wrong?"

"Just a flat. There's a screw in it. I was hoping someone would have time to patch it for me."

"Yeah, let me take a look," he grinned again, squinting slightly from the bright sunlight as he wiped his oily hands on a rag he held.

You took note of his slender fingers and how rough and worked yet soft the skin on his hands looked, curious as to what else they were capable of, and how the way the large rings that adorned them enhanced the appeal to feel them on your body even more.

"Is it just down the road?" he asked, beginning to walk over to the wall where a bunch of keys were hung on hooks.

"Yeah, about two minutes," you confirmed, remaining in place.

He held a set of keys up and tossed them up in the air before catching them, "I'll go give it a lift, then. You can wait here if you want. Despite your first impressions they're all pretty harmless."

His smile had you nearly bursting into flames, and holding out your own keys for him to take, your fingers brushed each other, igniting even more heat within your body.

He winked at you as he walked confidently over to the tow truck parked on the far side of the row of bikes, allowing you the opportunity to eye-fuck him just as he had you minutes ago.

Even with how baggy his jeans sat on his lower half, you could tell he had a perfectly plump ass that would no doubt power some hammering thrusts, and his back and arms were shaped nicely by strong muscles that showed through his t-shirt and mechanic's shirt that had the sleeves torn off, making you bite your lip as you thought how this unfortunate event was proving to be anything but.

It didn't take long for him to return with your car being pulled behind the tow truck, flashing you another smile as he hung his left arm out the window, a cigarette hanging from his inviting lips.

You watched the production as a few other mechanics went over and began helping him, the assistance he received allowing opportunities for glances your way, his silent flirting making you flush and shift on your feet.

Within minutes the tire was off and being carried into the bay of the garage, and as he got closer to you, you were able to see the name embroidered in black thread on the right side of his chest.

Jax.

You mouthed it, the whisper of those three letters feeling like silk on your tongue, and you wondered how saying it out loud and on repeat in the throes of pleasure would make him react; all smiles and that boyish confidence shining brightly as he basked in your praise, or a brutal and claiming side coming to reveal itself after being encouraged by your mantra.

He slammed your tire down on the workbench closest to the door and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, smearing dirt and grime across it, and gave you a smile and a nod as he parted those luscious lips and started talking.

"So, you from around here?"

"Yup," you confirmed, placing your hands in the back pockets of your shorts to force your chest out a little further.

He hummed as he started to work, "I would've remembered a pretty face like yours."

"Do you say that to all the girls you help?"

Jax shook his head, his eyebrows rising on his forehead to crease it. "Nope."

He looked completely innocent despite it being a blatant lie that he could barely get away with, and you knew that was exactly how a man like him was likely to get everything he wanted.

"Well, I really appreciate you dropping whatever else you were in the middle of to sort me out," you thanked. "Jax…" you added, his name sounding sinful from how lusty your voice suddenly became.

He tucked his bottom lip in his teeth, smiling big even with the restriction, his eyes dancing and alight with mischief as his hands paused what he was doing.

"My pleasure."

His words were spoken with such conviction, as well as what you hoped was a promise or at least a hint at a request, and for whatever reason, the more you were in his presence and talking to him, the more daring and confident you felt yourself becoming.

"Is it?" you asked, watching as he leaned against the workbench, his forearms flexing and showing off the tattoo decorating his right one, his glare serious and almost threatening while his lips continued to feign innocence.

"I think it's going to be."

Time passed too quickly for your liking, your very effortless and charged conversations with Jax tempting you into driving the pocket knife that you kept tucked away in your purse into one of your other tires just so you could spend more time with him; his efficient handy-work resulting in your tire being back on your car and good as new in the fastest forty-two minutes of your life.

“You're all set there, darlin’,” he drawled, squinting at you in the beaming sun with a crooked grin as he wiped his hands on the rag he pulled back out of his jeans.

“Looks like it. Thank you.”

“You have somewhere you need to be?” he asked, leaning against your car comfortably.

“Not necessarily,” you answered, part of you praying he would extend an invitation to something that involved you staying longer and having those lips that were still curled into a smile pressed against yours. They were perfectly shaped and full and impossible to stop admiring, and the fantasy of learning how good they would feel refused to quit playing in your mind, deeming him a talented kisser without even knowing.

"How much do I owe you?" you asked, the assumption that this repair would cost the equivalent of at least twenty of those speciality coffees you were on your way to getting making a pit settle in your stomach.

His bottom lip tucked between his teeth and he chewed on it while still managing to grin mischievously, the brightness of it reaching his eyes.

"I think we can work something out."

You swore you had to be dreaming, finding yourself being led through Samcro's clubhouse and down a hallway where you were continuously stopped to be pressed against the wall and kissed until you were breathless, the sound of your bodies slamming against the wood panels and your shared laughs drowning out the loud music coming from the common area.

It always felt good to be right, you thought, your speculations that Jax knew how to kiss exceptionally well turning out to be more than correct, the way his tongue claimed your mouth and his lips sealed against yours making you quickly abandon all morals and sense of reality.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as he walked backwards with you into a room, the scent of stale smoke mixed with a bit of weed overpowering the hint of cologne that lingered, and once inside, Jax pushed the door shut and shoved you up against it.

He slowly peeled his face away from yours, taking a deep, steadying breath, his eyes trailing from your chest up to your lust-drunk eyes while his arms braced on either side of you to cage you between him and the door.

"We do accept cash, too," he smirked, his smile growing when you laughed and shook your head.

"I'm afraid I don't have any on me…"

"See that's too bad," he said, his tone falsely serious. "Non-paying customers tend to get fucked in a situation like this…"

The emphasis and double-meaning he put on that one sinful word made you ache and visibly squirm, and you did your best to keep your hands to yourself while you waited for him to move first, only to fail miserably.

You gripped at the edges of his gray mechanics shirt at the same time your mouth crashed against his, peeling it off his arms with his help as you walked forward, forcing him backward into the middle of the room where he ran into a chair, causing both of you to laugh between kisses.

Next came his somehow still freshly white t-shirt, the pure glee that overcame you when you whisked it over his head and laid eyes on his smooth skin and impressively ripped torso making you feel dizzy, and trying to get to the rest of him as quickly as you could, you hurried to unbuckle his belt and send his jeans that were already half-way down his ass to the floor.

You glared at him hungrily as you reached out for his hard cock that strained against his loose boxers that managed to be an even brighter white than his shirt, and stroked it through the cotton appreciatively, watching his head tip slightly back and his eyes close as he succumbed to your touch.

"Fuck," he chuckled, his abs contracting as he did, hooking his thumbs in the waist of his trunks to get rid of them.

"May I?" you asked, the innocence in your request contrasting heavily to how impurely you were looking at him.

"Since you asked nicely," he drawled, holding his hands up away from his body to allow you to do whatever you wanted.

With an excited and satisfied grin, you tugged on his shorts, your mouth instantly watering as his cock sprung free from them and bounced wildly before you, his size and girth and perfectly veiny shaft confirming that the man standing proudly naked before you was utterly perfect.

"Like what you see, darlin'?"

Rather than answering, you wrapped one hand behind his neck and pulled him into you, kissing him madly and desperately while your other hand took hold of his silky flesh and pumped him slowly from tip to base, feeling him flex in your palm.

You basked in this for a couple of minutes until Jax regained control and guided you somewhat forcefully over to lean against the edge of the desk that sat against the wall, his thigh wedging between yours as he gathered your wrists in his one hand and held them up over your head, his other one left to trail up your side, pulling your shirt up along with it.

His mouth attacked your neck while he teased you, the sensation making you roll your hips on his thigh to get some friction on your needy pussy, and when he growled as he got to your breasts that you hadn't bothered to restrict in a bra today, you nearly came undone.

"Fuck, you're hot," he muttered, roughly tearing up your shirt to remove it from you, and he took a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him before diving to your mouth again, his hand squeezing at the fullness of your chest and pinching your nipple between his fingers.

You whined into his mouth and arched your back in order to get closer to his touch, your body begging to be used by him in any way possible, this self-made porno you were suddenly living out making you hornier than you've ever been before.

"Are you gonna fuck me, or what?" you asked, his keen attention making you feel bold and powerful.

He chuckled and shook his head, his blond locks moving with the action.

"Patience, darlin'. You need to remember who's paying who here."

You nodded and smirked, pushing off the edge of the desk to take hold of his cock again while you slowly sank to your knees, looking up at him through your lashes to see a very satisfied and eager look on his face.

Pressing your lips against his smooth tip, you spread the precum that leaked from it across them and stuck your tongue out, that first delectably salty taste of him making you swallow thickly as your mouth watered, your thirst for him skyrocketing. You gripped the base of his shaft as you eased him inside your mouth, taking him slowly inch by inch until you reached your hand and your nose was tickled by his flaxen hairs.

Bobbing on and off of his length and swirling your tongue around his head each time you passed it, you worked him steadily with your hand, the sound of his appreciative curses and groans making you squirm and shift on your knees and moan as well, taking him deep into your throat so he could feel the vibrations on your windpipe.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he hissed. "That's it, baby."

His praise sent a shiver down your spine, making your nipples harden even more in addition to you gagging on him each time he pounded the back of your throat, the way he bucked his hips and lightly held your head in place encouraging you to want to be wrecked by him in whatever way he saw fit.

He laughed in disbelief as he gently held your chin and told you to stop, mad at himself for doing it, but not ready to end this with you yet.

"Fuck, you're good. That pretty little mouth of yours sure has some talent," he purred, using his thumb to wipe the corner of your mouth.

"Then you should've let me finish…"

Jax chuckled again as he helped you up off the floor, a sound that made you melt each time, his eyes shining with a playfulness that matched his cheeky smile.

"Oh, no," he said, his eyebrows creeping up his forehead. "Your debt isn't going to be repaid that easily."

Your breathing became shallow as the way he looked at you turned from kind and light-hearted to intense and almost dark, and he grabbed your face and kissed you roughly, stealing your breath from you as he leaned into you in an overpowering way, his cock poking you and reminding you of its impressive size that you were about to have to try to handle.

He snuck a hand between your heaving bodies, cupping between your legs where an intense heat radiated, and began to rub your pussy through your shorts with a taunting pressure.

"This pussy's gonna feel good, isn't it?" he asked, dragging his hand harder over the material that kept you from him, the whole act and his question driving you mad. "I bet it's nice and tight…"

"Fuck, yes…" you whined, grinding against his hand even more, your head tipping to the side in an offering for him to kiss your neck.

He did, granting you one of your many wishes, sucking and nipping at the tender skin where your pulse hammered frantically.

After another minute or two of torture, you raked your nails up along his back, feeling desperate for him to give you what you so badly needed.

"Please, Jax," you begged. "I'm so wet."

He pulled away from your neck, kissing your swollen lips sloppily as he removed his hand from between your legs.

"Yeah? Lemme see, sweetheart…"

With deft fingers he ripped open the button on your shorts and tugged them down your thighs aggressively, his pupils blown wide when he noticed how your slick had darkened your panties and soaked them through completely, the corner of his lips curling upward menacingly.

He leaned in and kissed you again, a little sweeter this time, a display of his appreciation for how ready you were for him and how much he was enjoying this game with you.

That only lasted for so long though, the more he danced his tongue with yours the more he felt completely out of control, the need to drive his cock into you coming to the forefront of his mind once again just as it had since the minute he met you.

He released your cheeks from his gentle hold and used both of them to grab onto the side of your thong, tearing them off of you barbarically, the sound of ripping cotton making both of you more feral than before.

You sat up on the desk, holding his head to keep him kissing you as he settled between your legs, his cock nudging your inner thigh dangerously close to your center. It was all heavy, panting breaths and the sound of teeth clashing together as you went at each other furiously, your fingers making a tangled mess out of those gorgeous blond tresses, your nails no doubt leaving red scratches all over his pale skin.

With a sharp inhale to catch his breath, Jax broke the messy seal of your lips enough to look down at you naked and spread beneath him, slipping his fingers slowly through your wet folds to gather your slick on his fingertips, admiring you before slamming them inside you deep enough that his rings prevented him from going any further, pumping in and out before hooking them to massage your g-spot.

Your cries filled the room, the build-up to this making everything feel more intense than you could bear, your hips moving to meet the tempo of his hand enthusiastically and instinctively.

"You want that dick?" Jax asked breathlessly, his cock throbbing and ready to explode if he held off any longer, the sensation of your pussy clenching his fingers and coating them with your juices making it worse.

He was always diligent about wrapping up when it came to sleeping with new chicks, but something about you made him want to bury his bare cock deep inside you and drive into you again and again, the thought of seeing your cunt leaking with his load sending him into a fury.

"Yes…fuckkkk!" you screamed, your consent barely past your lips as he pushed into you, stretching you out over his thick girth.

A shuddered breath escaped your lips as you sought to adjust to his size, Jax giving you no mercy as he immediately started hammering into you with ruthless force.

By the time he had rammed himself into the deepest part of you, you were both so close to falling apart, not taking long to get each other right back to the edge where you had been left hanging, the rhythm chosen by him and matched by you one that was sure to put this desk through the wall in no time.

It shook precariously beneath you, and it seemed the threat of breaking the damn thing only spurred Jax on more, his brutal thrusts increasing as he worked even harder to ruin you.

His skin became slippery as he began to work up a sweat, your hands gliding over his shoulders and up the column of his neck as you tried to hold on to him as best you could.

His praise at how good you felt was broken up by a variety of curses, the way he sounded as he got so lost in you making the pressure in your core erupt rapidly, and you strangled his cock through your release, soaking him enough for you to hear the lewd squelching through your mind-numbing euphoria.

"Fuck!" he roared, his last thrusts slowing in pace as you coaxed out his end, his cock pulsing inside your choking walls and filling you up with his hot cum in vicious spurts.

His sweaty hair was stuck to his forehead as he leaned it against yours, chuckling while he fought to catch his breath.

"That was…"

"Yeah…" you panted, hardly able to believe just how incredible it was, your whole body tingling and alive with pleasure.

He smiled against your lips before kissing you sweetly, humming into your mouth while he remained inside you, wanting to relish in the after effects for as long as he could.

You made out until he eventually slipped from you, the loss making you whine and you both to slowly cease your kisses.

“I've never done anything like this before,” you admitted, feeling totally liberated in your behaviour as you watched his sweaty, naked, and absolutely perfect form step away from you, his smile beaming at you once again.

He winked at you, “Me neither," and ran a hand through his hair to try to fix the mess you had made of it.

“For some reason I don't believe that," you chided, tilting your head as you remained in your spot, his cum starting to drip out of you.

“You shouldn't," he purred, strutting back over to you, his eyes fixed between your legs where you could tell by his expression that he enjoyed what he saw.

He held your waist, his head tipping to the side as he looked down at you, his voice low and lusty when he spoke.

"Still have nowhere to be?"

---

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls @littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90 @paintlavillered @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @theesirenteller

I went ahead and tagged everyone I have written down for my Charlie/Will Miller taglist so my apologies if you're not interested in being tagged in Jax fics and I will happily add or remove anyone as they wish!