#anyway. GOD these two were a pain in the ass to draw. all the little details on the outfits were killing meeeee

[overchromatic]

The Kitakami kids got a new look!

[plussizefantasia]

Revenge

Flufftober Day 18: Teacher AU

literature teacher!Loki Laufeyson x math teacher!reader

Word Count: 1.5k

AN: I actually love this one so much. I also just realized that we are over halfway done with Flufftober which is kind of sad. Anyway, we've got 13 more days left and I'm looking forward to the plans I have for each one. If you liked this story please reblog and I'll see y'all tomorrow.

divider credit @royallaesthetics

You are going to kill him. You are going to murder that man. You stayed after your last class yesterday so that you would be able to draw out the problems that your students would have to solve for class today. Now, written right on top of your trigonometry diagrams were the words:

“Mathematics may be defined as the subject in which we never know what we are talking about, nor whether what we are saying is true. -Bertrand Russell”

Written in the ever so familiar scrawl of the Literature Teacher, Mr. Laufeyson. Loki was a nice guy, a great teacher, and at times, a giant pain in your ass. You have no idea how this little feud of yours got started but you are certain that it has escalated beyond what it once was.

At the start, it was just funny little jokes between the two of you. He had once stolen all of the red pens that you used to grade your student’s quizzes and when you went to go look for them, they had all been taped together in one big ball and were sitting in your “Math is Fun” mug that you kept in the teacher's lounge. That was annoying and you also had no real way of knowing who had done it. Until he had brought it up the next day and asked how grading had gone.

You had retaliated by going in early the next morning and moving all of the furniture in his classroom an inch to the left. It had thrown him off just enough that he had tripped on his rug during a lecture and faceplanted. All of your students were talking about it two periods later when they arrived in your class and you were all smiles for the rest of the day.

So far, there has not been any lasting damage, and all of your coworkers find it more amusing than annoying which is a good thing because neither of you wanted to get the administration involved. 

You were not amused by the board graffiti you had found when you came in your class this morning, and while you were re-drawing the problems he had ruined you were thinking of how you could get back to him later that day.

Your plans for revenge had to be put on the back burner as students started filing into your classroom. Half of them looked so tired that you genuinely thought they might fall asleep at their desks and the others looked entirely too frazzled for 7:30 in the morning.

It wasn’t until after you had had your lunch break that an idea had come to you about a way to get back at Loki. You grabbed the pile of graded quizzes from your desk, ones that you were able to grade in red pen thank you very much, and started making your way upstairs to where Mr. Laufeyson’s class was located.

You knew that he was teaching his British Literature elective right now, as it was fifth period. You also knew that most of the kids in that class were also in your Calculus class at the end of the day.

You didn’t wait for very long before pulling open the door to his classroom and waltzing right in with a smirk across your face.

“Good Afternoon Mr. Laufeysoon, pardon the interruption but I have some quizzes I need to give back to some students ASAP.” Without waiting for a response you began walking up and down the rows of desks in his class passing out the graded quizzes to your very amused students. You noticed that he had stopped talking when you had walked into the room and hadn’t started up again. “Go ahead,” you had told him, “don’t want to waste valuable teaching time.” You continued to pass out the papers, all while trying to not burst out laughing at the look on his face.

“Um, yes right. Well as I was saying. Shakespeare was a minor god of his time. His ability to-”

“Hey Derek, I wanted to talk to you about this question that you got wrong, would you be able to stay a little bit after our class to talk about it.” You sent a small wink to Derek and put a finger to your mouth to indicate that he shouldn’t say anything. “I just don’t want to waste any class time going over it today, we have a lot to cover.” Derek just nodded and you could see his shoulders shaking with repressed laughter.

“Are you done?” Loki asked, slanting his hips to one side and placing the hand not holding his open book on them. “Because I have a class to be teaching right now.” He lifted his eyebrows and you acquiesced. You wanted to mess with him, not ruin his whole class plan for that day.

“Yes, I’m done. Thank you for letting me hand those out.” You smiled sweetly at him and began walking back out of his room. Just barely hearing his mutter of “I didn’t let you do anything.” As you passed by him.

Mission accomplished you headed back down to your classroom and started gathering up the things you would need to teach the next period. You didn’t expect that he would have the time to be able to get you back today. But you were for sure expecting some kind of retaliation the next day.

It wasn’t until your last period that you were proven wrong. Everything seemed normal, your students filled in slightly ansty as it was the last period and everyone was ready to go home. They all pulled out their work and started on the problems you had written on the board. 

It wasn’t until you started calling on them that you realized what you had opened yourself up to.

You called on Derek first, he was one of the more academically inclined students you had but he was shy about answering in front of the class. You knew he had gotten the answer right, you had looked at his work before you called them all back to focus. But what you weren't expecting was for him to give you his answer in eh most god-awful British accent you had ever heard.

“I doth believeth that the answer to this problemeth is 42.3”. You were baffled. You had no idea what was going on and the fact that Derek had said all this with such a straight face made you think you were having some kind of hallucination episode in the middle of class. But instead of mentioning it you just decided to move on.

“Oh-kay. Um… Samantha what did you get for number 2.”

Again you were met with an awful accent and weird olde- english phrasing.

“Yes, Madame, the answereth I haveth arrived at was X equaleth 110”.

Now that you knew you weren’t just having a breakdown and something was actually happening you didn’t hold yourself back.

“What is happening right now? I don’t- why are you guys being so weird.”

You were met with utter silence, which was rare in your classroom of 23 teenagers. But you didn’t move on. You stared each of them down, focusing a little harder on trying to get the weak ones to crack. Finally, it was Abigail who let the cat out of the bag. She was sweet, but notoriously bad at keeping secrets.

“Mr. Laufeyson said he would give five bonus points to anyone who used a bad accent in your class today.” She let out in all one breath, “More points if you spoke like someone out of Shakespeare.”

You ran your tongue across the front of your teeth. “Did he?” You let out a sort of incredulous laugh and shook your head a little. “Well then, bonus points on the next quiz to whoever can steal the marble apple off his desk and bring it to me tomorrow.” Your students all began to laugh a little bit and some had a look of extreme determination across their faces at your words.

Your class continued sans silly accents and you sent your students home for the day without any homework. As you started cleaning up your desk, putting your laptop in your bag, and grabbing your sweater off the back of your chair you were interrupted by the voice of your arch-nemesis.

“You are positively wicked.” Loki was leaning up against the frame of the door to your classroom, his jacket also on his arm and his messenger bag slung across his shoulders.

“You started it with the Russell quote on my board. You knew how much time I put into drawing those problems.”

“Admit it, it made you smile when you saw it.” He began to cross across the room towards your desk,

“Maybe, but what really almost made me lose it laughing was Samantha’s horrible British accent.” You looked up at him and let out a small laugh at the memory. “So maybe, Mr. Laufeyson, you are the wicked one.”

“I might be, Mrs. Laufeyson but you were the one who married me.”

“Yeah, I guess I did.” You chuckled once again and leaned up to place a kiss upon your husband’s lips.

“May I ask what plans you have concocted to get back at me tomorrow Darling?” He asked.

“You’ll just have to wait and see for yourself tomorrow, Love.”

[faetima]

Hi!! Can I please request a hanahaki fic with blade? I'm not sure if you've written for him though!

Also, please take some breaks! You've written a lot of fics lately, you might get overworked 🤍

𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫. .

. .hanahaki just had to put you through fucking hell, didn't it?

// tws ; lil bit of cursing, blood ; gn reader ; modern au, hanahaki au

a/n: OH MY GOD ANON YOURE LITERALLY THE SWEETEST ILYSM OMOGMOGO

i will be writing a part two to this.. soon enough :3

you couldn't do anything about this stupid disease anyways, so what was the point of even trying?

you heaved up clusters and clusters and clusters of ugly bright red petals, their sickly sweet scent making its way up to your nose. you felt so fucking nauseous and dizzy. the fragrant miasma of flowers overwhelmed you. you wanted to vomit or cry or die or anything but cough up these dumb stupid flowers.

the flowers flopped onto your floor--your newly polished floor-- ungracefully, covered in slick mucus and freshly coated in splatters of blood. they smeared the previously pristine tiling with blood, the iron stench of it mixing with the flowers and filling up the entire room. you just wanted the disease to kill you already. if it was going to either way, why make you suffer?

after what felt like hours and hours and hours and hours of coughing and heaving and choking, the flowers finally stopped fucking coming. you took shaky shallow breathes, trying to ground yourself.

your palms stung, and you looked down to realize you had been digging your nails into the palms of your hand almost strong enough to draw blood.

your gaze trailed up to the stupid fucking flowers.

upon closer inspection, you realized they were spider lilies. red ones.

his favorite flowers.

too bad you hated them.

--

his eyes were the same exact color of the flowers you had just coughed up.

blade sat two seats in front of you and one to the right, and whenever you saw him you couldn't help but wonder why you had fallen for him.

he was always so indifferent and cold. sure there might've been something warmer under his icy exterior, but you weren't the type of person to go dig through someone's cold attitude just to find out what they were actually like.

but some days you wished you knew what was under that cold front of his.

--

you were getting worse.

you'd barley come out of your room to stretch your legs or go to the bathroom or even eat.

the spider lilies were killing you from the inside out. of course you had to have hanahaki for someone who probably hated you, if he even knew you existed, that is.

and, on top of that, out of all flowers, the ones you coughed up had to be toxic.

if just hacking up the flowers was bad, the nausea they caused because of being toxic was worse. you couldn't even go five minutes without feeling abdominal pain and nausea.

ugh.

--

blade swallowed hard.

why did he feel like this? why did his heart beat so fast when this random ass person passed by?

he gritted his teeth.

"kafka," he grumbled, barley glancing in her direction.

kafka glanced up from her book, setting it down elegantly and tucking a strand of mauve hair behind her ear, adjusting the tinted glasses sitting atop her head in the process.

"yes, bladie?" she grinned a little, and blade could only groan in irritation.

"who's that?" he muttered, gesturing towards the person he had been thinking about earlier.

"why?" kafka mused. "you've never been interested in learning others' names before now. what's changed?"

"nothing," he muttered gruffly, crossing his arms across his chest. his ears felt hot and his heart was beating faster and he was getting butterflies and he didn't know why.

kafka grinned, eyes glinting with amusement.

"ooh, i think someone has a crush."

"no."

"okay, let's go talk to them then bladie."

"no!"

"why not? is it cause you like them?"

"..fine. let's go talk to them."

--

your head fell forward a little. another sleepless night of coughing up flowers didn't bring you any good.

suddenly, your eyes snapped open.

was that.. blade? walking towards you? with kafka?

no, it probably wasn't. you were probably just sleep deprived and hallucinating or something.

but then you smelt the strong and unmistakable scent of anise, too real to be your imagination.

[jaycewrites-192000]

Childhood

Summery: Things the Kawata siblings did as kids.

Pairing(s): Platonic!Nahoya Kawata x Platonic!Reader x Platonic!Souya Kawata

Warning(s): None

Nahoya and Souya were born one year before you, so the three of you were in the same classes for the longest of time. Bullies were rarely a problem for you too. One time in the second grade, some bratty boys decided to pick on you and pull at your hair. Your brothers were quick to your rescue, and beat them up. With every passing grade, your brothers made it known right away that you were not to be messed with, anyone unfortunate enough to try, would be dealt with swiftly and painfully.

Even in high school, your reputation was just as well known as their’s. You were known as the demon twin’s sister, and you were off limits. To people who wanted to mess with you, and to anyone who admired/had a crush on you. (Mainly involves boys in that situation) You eventually gained some respect of your own when you learned how to fight like your older brothers.

Speaking of people having crushes on you…Guys were hesitant to confess their feelings, much less talk to you. The last guy who tried ended up getting his ass kicked. But he was a total creep anyway, so you weren’t mad at your brothers. However, you were mad when they scared off a guy just for asking how your day was. Sometimes they could be a real overprotective pain.

Girls were a different story. Your brothers would never hurt a girl, but they can be scary if they need to be.

Going back to when you were little kids-

You had your own room, while your brothers shared a room when the three of you were kids. However, you three rarely ever slept in your own rooms. Sometimes you’d go to their room and sometimes they’d come to yours. Whether the excuse be: having a nightmare, fearing monsters under the bed or in the closet, or just wanted to sleep in the same room just because.

That of course changed when you reached teenhood. All three of you had separate rooms then.

Pillow fights quickly would turn into an all out war. You knocked out Nahoya’s tooth one time, it was already loose, and that hit from you knocked it right out. He wasn’t even mad, just hyped because the tooth fairy was coming. One time it got so intense between you two, Souya hid under the bed to save himself. It was for the best anyway. God forbid either of you make him cry…

Before your family moved closer to the city, the house you lived in had a big tree in the backyard. So of course you guys had a treehouse. You had a fear of heights, so it took you about a week to finally work up the nerve to climb up. Once you were up there, you never wanted to come down. Your brothers made it too fun to leave. Playing pretend, drawing, or just hanging out.

Holidays were always fun. The three of you would stay up as late as possible to try and catch Santa. But always would fall asleep an hour or two after bedtime. Halloween was great too. The three of you would always match, and the cuteness of it would only get you guys extra candy. You guys would be eating Halloween candy until late of next year…

As kids, you three agreed that there was a strong no tattle rule. One of you do something you’re not suppose to being doing? None of you would say a peep to your parents. That rule would only be broken when you guys got hurt.

One time Nahoya thought he was an expert and could do a near impossible trick on his bike. He ended up breaking his arm, and that of course freaked you and Souya out. Nahoya, despite being in a ton of pain, was saying over and over “don’t tell mom.” But there was no hiding a broken bone, so mom did end up finding out, rather quickly. She wasn’t more upset as she was worried. But Nahoya certainly did get quite the scolding on the way back from the hospital.

Speaking of your mom…She was not to be messed with or disrespected. As the three of you got older, you thought you could get away with anything. That way of thinking was quickly shut down by mom.

Sneaking into the kitchen in the middle of the night? Better be dead silent. Picking fights with other people? Better hope she never finds out. (That mainly concerns Nahoya)

Back to teenhood again. Your brothers couldn’t hide being a gang from you, and they were already expecting you to want to meet everyone. Of course you were impressed by Mikey the most, especially after hearing all the stories about him. Eventually your admiration for him and Toman would lead you to want to learn how to fight.

Your brothers weren’t totally against it. They had always protected you, and they didn’t care to keep doing so. But there would be times when they would always be around, so it was good that you knew how to defend yourself.

To wrap it all up, your childhood was rarely ever boring. Especially with older brothers like Smiley and Angry.

[forestshadow-wolf]

Soap+ghost idea: massages

Honestly, I 100% believe that ghost gets really bad back pains and aches, you can't convince me otherwise. And soap? Well his shoulders get super tight, his head aches all the time, and don't even get me started on hit bad knee.

It's not uncommon for soap to bring ghost to one of their rooms, offering some serious back rubbing action. Sometimes ghost loses the mask once they're inside, Sometimes he doesn't. Soap doesn't mind either way, if anything, it helps him gauge how bad it is that day. If it comes off, it's not too terrible. If it stays on, then it's definitely not been a great day for ghost.

The shirt comes off (pants stay firmly on, this is to help his back, not blow it out- *muffled struggling). Soap grabs the lotion, something moisturizing because ghost is bad at hydrating; he knows, soap knows, the whole TF knows.

Soap digs his fingers into the meat between his shoulder blades, just left of his spine. He always works left to right, it's their routine. The further down soap goes, the more ghost relaxes. When he reaches the middle of his back ghost groans, long and quiet. The dip in his back to just above his ass is the most sensitive. When soap workes his fingers into the dimples on either side of his spine, in the middle of that dip, ghost releases a low sound somewhere between a moan, a groan, and a whimper. The further those fingers massage, the further his back arches and twitches.

Soap leaves nothing untouched, his shoulders, back, and sides get equal loving. Even down to the hips, which ghost always says he doesn't need to do. Soap always insists on doing it anyway, it's his favorite part; feeling the muscle and tension release, watching his hips and back twitch with relief. It's ghost's favorite part as too... well second favorite, right after thoes to divots in his back.

------

Despite soap being labeled as a chetterbox, he's never been vocal about his own discomforts. He's never been good at relaxing his shoulders, since he was a teen, not much to do about it so no point in bringing it up. Growing up in a large household meant the attention of just two parents was stretched far. So when he was prone to headaches in the chaotic calm of his home, or when he messed up his knee, he didn't tell anyone. He figured the headaches were probably from dehydration. And he didn't want his parents to drive him over to the doc, just to be told to ice his knee, and send him home again.

Ghost is perfect for him because he notices the little things, the constand readjusting of his shoulders, the slight limp when his knee is acting up, or the tiniest wince at loit sounds and bright noises. He drags soap to one of their rooms, and brings out the same lotion if he needs to because soap is also bad a hydration.

If it's his knee the boots, socks, and pants (boxers stay on, no smexy fun time right now). Ghost starts on the ankle, up his calf, and over his bad knee. He works the well, driving out any cramps and stiffness. When he comes across a particularly tender spot he moves slow and steady, making sure to work out every ounce of pain. Then he starts working on the other leg so soap doesn't feel lopsided. If his limp was particularly bad he will also work his way up his thigh to release even more tension.

When ghost finds soap drilling the recruits, subtly trying to stretch out his shoulders, he's quick to beckon soap for another massage. The shirt comes off in their room. Ghost starts from the base of the neck on the left side, and works his way down and out. Over his forearms, and even his palms, before doing the same to the other side. Soap swears up and down that ghost is a god with how good he makes him feel. That draws a chuckle out of ghost. The first time ghost offered, he found that soap is a bit more vocal than him, but surprisingly not by much.

If ghost finds him in the rec room, strangely nursing a mug of tea, ghost knows soap's head is killing him. Ghost always offers to do it where they are or back at their room. Sometimes soap wants a little more privacy. Sometimes even the thought of moving makes his stomach flip. Regardless of what soap chooses, ghost doesn't mind. From behind him ghost will first run his fingers through his hair, testing to see how bad it it. He starts at the temples, rubbling small firm circles there. Then over his forehead and between his brows, small soothing strokes. Following that ghost's fingers run over his scalp and the back of his head, scratching lightly. After that he alternates between squeezing out the tension of the back of his neck, and rubbing at his temples again. Soap always falls asleep a little after this point.

[dilatorywriting]

A concept- a brainrot, if you will- I wish to present to you on a silver platter, respectfully, as your Monster Mayhem series (and D&D talk eeeee) has inspired me:

Jack Howl as both the "huntsman" and the "wolf" in a Little Red Ridinghood scenario. The forest is very dangerous, but the dangers are unseen- think spells that delude the victim into hallucinations, guiding them into acid pits and other dangers. The forest wasn't always like this, which is why people don't take the warnings seriously and wander in. Humans always so foolishly challenge fate, after all.

So Jack decides to give these people a "seen" danger to be wary of- the big bad wolf stalking the outskirts. They live afraid, but they live safe. And the town's warden (sheriff? Something of the kind?)- Jack himself, in human form- assures them that he's leading an investigation and kindly stops people who want to attempt entry.

This is a pain in the ass for you- a young adventurer who is very aware that the forest has "gone evil" because your warlock grandmother is getting too old to tend to her patron's shrine, which kept the sleeping evil of the ancient forest (which is definitely either the grave of a dead diety or the bed of a great sleeping evil) locked away. You know it is a dangerous trip, but you aren't completely helpless, having some magic under your belt yourself.

If only this damn town warden would let you peacefully wander into this absolute nightmare forest. If only a large, snow-white wolf didn't keep blocking your path- oh, sorry, didn't keep "trying to kill you," though you're pretty sure he isn't, as he always stops just short of harm.

Bonus points if:

- The thing keeping your grandma from doing her shrine maiden very suspicious, definitely spooky warlock duties is something silly, but realistic as an old people problem (like 'i can't reach that high anymore, my back hurts too much' or 'the arthritis is getting to me and I can't draw the sigils')

- Literally any "Into the Woods" reference... "into the woods and down the del, the path is straight I know it well~" *five minutes later* "fuck, this ain't my forest anymore, why didn't grandma send me a letter sooner??? By the great gods I TOLD her to get a familiar to help out around here-"

- Jack personally knows your granny and panics when you, finally, tell him (in wolf form) that you're trying to get to her. (Jack helped clear her name in a "witch hunt," which is a little ironic considering the circumstances)

-You are very done with stumbling into another life-or-death evil forest situation after the 15th time. You grew up here! You took care of the forest with grandma! Could these damn human-eating trees be any less grateful?! (To be fair, they didn't have a taste for humans when you were little.)

-Rook appears. Yes, there are two huntsman now. Of COURSE Rook is enamored by the thrill of ancient evil and a mysterious wolf. Now Jack has to keep an eye out for his own hide, too...

-Smh, the idea of rook being involved just made me think of Vil as the "ancient evil" sleeping. A little drama queen who is angry that his ritual has not been performed to preserve his 10,000-year beauty sleep. Yeah, I've decided that "sleeping evil" is actually "sleeping eVil." The horrifying forest is a result of his anger from seeing ONE (1) adorable forest boy that was prettier than himself. The stress gave him a wrinkle. The wrinkle has caused this immense horror nightmare. Vil has decided to take an angry beauty-coma until the wrinkle has faded away. This is some petty god shit.

Lord I meant for this to be more Jack-focused but then I brainrotted really hard. He's just so.... nice? Stable? Sane? It's a lot more fun to brainrot over the absolute chaotic mess that is our boys with big egos and issues with pettiness.

Anyways, I will bow and make my exit! I'm a huge fan of dark fantasy genre stuff and, as a result, adore your interpretation of the Twst cast and the environments/scenarios you create for your stories! So I wanted to offer a dose of my inspired rambles, flavored by the sheer excitement reading your fics and posts has given me. Just in case it isn't clear this isn't a request I'm just HYPE rn.

*me intently scribbling all of this down as fast as possible and having an aneurism over the awesome and AHHHHH*

But holy fuck YES, I LOVE this idea. And then the Vil shit at the end, especially seeing that he and Jack are friends in canon! So like! More overlap! But also just! All of it!! AHHHH!!! My brain is on fire.

But holy shit I am just so in love with this idea. It's giving me so much fire-in-the-brain inspiration, and I do like Jack a lot, but I don't Love love him normally (I have my two undying favs, and they can never be displaced), but goddamn now you've got me wanting to write this so badly!!!!

[wonderfuldeath]

.o| Seasonal Calendar |o.

Difference

• July 27 •

Warnings : Fluff, angst, screaming

Please, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi ! ♥

It had now been a long week since Taehyung had returned to the store, or spoken to Jungkook. And the tattoo artist was depressed, completely amorphous, his eyes focused on shadows that only he could see, remaining mute for long hours, staring at his screen, letting the stylus draw lines with no real meaning.

The Kim had taken a long pause, and that evening had texted him for two weeks' vacation, which he should have given him anyway at some point. But he still thought he could talk about the incident, whether orally or by message, he didn't really care, he just wanted to make sure his secretary didn't hate him. To replace him, Jungkook had asked an old tattooist friend of his, Kim Namjoon. Who obviously seemed fed up with Jungkook's childish attitude, but it was easy for him, Namjoon had had a partner since high school, had never been frustrated in his life, had never had any real relationship problems, Seokjin was a rare pearl, and this kind of situation, he didn't know.

“- Have you finished the drawing for the eleven o'clock customer?

- …

- Kook?

- …

- Damn it, Kook, are you listening to me?

- I'm sorry, you were saying?

- Move your ass. If a guy makes you feel that way, go to him. And tell him. Or I swear to God, I'll do it for you. You're a pain in the ass, preventing me from working.”

It hurt, Jungkook couldn't say otherwise, but at the same time Namjoon was telling the terrible truth, he couldn't just stand there, waiting for the world to realize his feelings, let alone when he wasn't even with him. A deep sigh passed his lips as he turned his finally tearful gaze back to a visibly distraught Namjoon. He wasn't a bad man, just a little too brutal. He opened his mouth to say something, but fell silent when Jungkook really started to cry, getting up to go and lock himself in the back of the store, to try and remain a little professional, and Namjoon let out a deep sigh, turning the little sign indicating that the store was closed for a few minutes, before rejoining his friend, looking half worried, half weary.

“- Are you okay, kid?

- No, I'm not. It's not very easy to be crazy about someone, certainly in a relationship, who must now be cursing you with all his heart. And I don't even blame him for being angry with me! He's right, I'm just a dark fool who never knows how to handle anything…

- That's not true, and you know it. Besides, how do you know he's a couple?

- He often comes to the store, with such a beautiful chick…

- Maybe she's his cousin? Or his mother?”

The realization slapped him in the face, it was true, he'd never thought like that, he'd convinced himself of something, without even looking to see if he was right. Jungkook felt quite silly, looking at Namjoon, who was visibly exhausted from being friends with him, but managed to comfort him with a pat against his shoulder and a visibly infectious laugh. He gives a lopsided smile, before looking at Jungkook.

“- I'll take your customers, go and see him.

- Are you sure?

- Sure. You'll owe me a favor.

- I'm babysitting the twins all weekend. And next weekend, I promise.”

Namjoon simply nods his head, before letting Jungkook run off, running as fast as he can in spite of Seoul's dense midsummer heat, barely looking around, almost getting knocked over more than once, but holding on before arriving in front of Taehyung's address. He'd never been to Taehyung's house before; he'd just memorized the directions on the Google map, in case there was ever a problem. He hesitated between ringing the bell and just turning back. He'd just tell Namjoon that Taehyung wasn't there, that's all. But an obviously divine force decides to mock him, and finally the door opens on a familiar figure, Kim Taehyung's potential girlfriend. Right there, as surprised as he was, they looked at each other, and she smiled. God, he wanted to put his hand in her ugly face, but he said nothing, smiling at her too, before moving forward, sure of himself now, Taehyung would choose him, not this tart.

“- Are you here to see Taehyung?

- Yes, I am.

- Good, he's been a bit depressed lately, I'm glad my little brother has someone like you in his life.”

Oh. He felt even dumber now, not that he was being insulted orally, but all the same, he pinched his bottom lip, before giving a shy smile, and she opened the door wider for him. Taehyung lived with his older sister in a small house in the capital, so it seemed logical, and she indicated Taehyung's room, before leaving quickly, probably late for work. Jungkook takes the time to look around, at the various photos of his family, Taehyung was adorable when he was little, but he keeps his objective in mind, taking the path directly to arrive in front of his depression's room, knocking timidly twice, without any response. But that doesn't stop him, Jungkook pushes open the door, finding himself in front of a room plunged in darkness, where small sobs can be heard. Jungkook's heart breaks at this, and he gently closes the door before joining the one he loves, coming to take him in his arms. He wants to talk, to reassure him, to find out what the problem is, but nothing comes out, and Taehyung doesn't answer him anyway, simply turning to snuggle against his chest, starting a tirade that's clearly not meant for him.

“- Jimin, I thought you couldn't come. Thanks for being here, I don't know what to do, I don't want to quit but… But I don't want to disappear from his life, I love him so much… And he.. And him. What if he just wants to have fun? That's why he bit me, isn't it…? Jimin..?

- I don't just want to have fun with you, Taehyung.”

Surprised, Taehyung pushes him back a little violently, knocking him off the bed with a sound of pain, as he realizes his reaction, a small cry passes Taehyung's lips, before he rushes to check on his friend, seeing if Jungkook is still alive, or perhaps dead because of him. Anxiety gripped him, as he joined him on the floor, where Jungkook let out a small, painful groan, before slowly straightening up.

“- Excuse me, did you hurt yourself?

- No, I don't think I did.

- Phew, you scared me!”

Taehyung must have an adorable pout, but Jungkook can't see him because the room is so dark, so he stands up, under Taehyung's little squeak, who lets him. The light grays his retinas, while the other tries to hide in the pillow, wrinkling his nose in a deep noise of annoyance, but far too curious to know what Jungkook was going to do now.

“- So you think I'm just a player? A creep who likes to destroy people?

- … I can't help it, pretty boys usually are, aren't they?

- I don't know about that. At least I'm not.”

Jungkook wrinkled his nose, crossing his arms against his chest before turning his back on Taehyung, acting falsely, he wasn't angry with him, deep down he too would surely have been unsure. He'd thought Taehyung was in a relationship, with his big sister. But Taehyung didn't let him sulk for long, grabbing his arm with another pained moan that made Jungkook turn around in concern. His devilish angel face can only make him remain stoic in the face of such beauty, before coming to kiss Taehyung full on the lips without any hesitation, their bodies meeting, colliding, before Jungkook pushes Taehyung away first. No, he wanted to, far too much, but it was too soon, he didn't want to have any regrets, or for Taehyung to have any. So he reassured him, caressed his trembling lips, and his cheek.

“- What?

- Not yet, not like this. We'll do it when it's magic. Not right now.

- But…

- Shh… Let's just enjoy each other, okay?”

Taehyung hesitates, but finally agrees, nods, returns to embrace Jungkook more tenderly, Jungkook's arms coming to grip his hips possessively, pulling Taehyung against him, just to make sure he doesn't evaporate, like in bad dreams. Taehyung stepped back, catching his breath, and Jungkook bit into the tender flesh, making Taehyung moan in a completely different way than last week.

“- But don't worry, I'll make it up to you when the hour comes.”

[ghstdoll]

she should feel sorry for daphne, having the hottest most interesting guy in the entire school knowing he wants nothing to do with you had to put a damper on her ego especially if she knew the way he spoke about her with salem. but instead of guilt salem can only think of the excitement and need she's starting to feel all over her body as he speaks to her in ways that certainly were not meant for a classy party as he offers to fuck her on his partner furniture. "that sounds inviting, maybe you could lay me out on the fancy dining table and do whatever you please to me." she adds on, liking the idea of not only getting to feel him inside of her but doing it all over the house of his horrible family. "and what about you?" she asks. "what would make you happy? sounds like you've been focusing on everyone else for far too long." would he choose salem if he had given himself more freedom? if he had the choice to choose his own happiness would she be in that future? "I'm used to mother's not being a fan of me anyway, might as well make it more exciting." she would let him too, she wanted him to take her and do whatever he wanted with her, she wanted to belong to him.

his next movements surprise her when he's biting down on her earlobe, feeling a slight pinch that makes her moan softly as she tilts her head to the side a little, lashes fluttering as she purrs. "yes...just like that." she whimpers as he draws a little blood from her ear. it stings a little but in a way that she sort of likes, giving him that kind of control and letting him get a taste of her as he sucks down on her ear before pulling away and trying to hide himself. "do I taste that good?" she teases purring softly as she cups his face again making him look up at her.

he squeezes her harder, the way he touches her making her feel more needy than she expected and the warmth in her body was growing. but this is the exact attention I've been waiting for, the part where you touch me and tell me how badly you want me." she hums. "I'm tired of just flirting with you when doing homework or finding excuses to touch you in ways that aren't enough." her blue eyes flicker to his lips, the desire to kiss him almost becoming painful in a way. she wanted him so bad that it drove her insane, how could he make her wait for so long? "and what about me? why do you like me...other than my amazing ass of course." she asks, genuinely curious to know what his answer might be.

they're in the middle of some high society party with one hand between her thighs and the other on her ass, squeezing it in a way that makes her dress ride up a little. she hates that he ever gave those other two attention, even if he agrees they aren't good enough to satisfy him the way she can it still bothers her they even tried, willingly or not. "I can satisfy you." she says softly. "use me instead and you'll see how much better I am than those other girls." it's almost sweet he cares so much for her well being, not wanting to go after her because he is as scared of what he might do to her but she wasn't, if anything the idea excited her and deep down she knows he wouldn't do anything to harm her, regulus was a good guy no matter how hard he tried to act like he wasn't right now. he was a good guy put in a shitty situation trying to please everyone else when what he should be doing is trying to please himself, do what made him happy and hopefully by extension that meant choosing to be with someone who truly understands him. "use me and I'll be whatever you ask me to be." she gently says, purring a little at the way he moves in so close, foreheads touching as he whispers in her ear, he's so close she could kiss him if she wanted and god did she want to kiss him so badly.

"you don't seem to understand so let me make this clea, I would do anything for you regulus black. this is something I've known from the moment I met you that I would never be able to say no to you unless of course it was telling me to go away." she's joking about the last part, knowing he wouldn't because she knows he likes her almost as much as she loves him. his affection is tender, nudging against her as his forehead rests on hers, making her blush a little as she giggles but before he pulls away she hums. "I want to be the one you come to when you're hungry, I wanna feel your teeth in my skin."

he licks her neck, kissing her again and making a shivered out moan leave her lips as he continues. none of this seems appropriate for where they are, surely someone would notice and say something? but at the moment she's finding it hard to really remember to care, enjoying too much the way he touches her and kisses her skin as if he needs her. "oh wow." she whispers, biting down on her lower lip to keep herself from getting too loud and actually getting them in trouble when his hand starts to move further up her skirt, it was already short so it doesn't take long until his fingers are brushing against the sets of her panties, catching her breath and for the first time actually feeling sort of shy knowing he now knows how wet she probably is down there especially now with the way he sucks at her skin. "that feels so good regulus." she whispers bringing her hand up to run through his red curls, giving them a slight tug as eyes flutter closed.

just as she's getting used to the feeling he's pulling away, possibly leaving a mark in the wake of where he just kissed her neck and moving to press a kiss to her lips instead which for a moment takes her aback even when she knows it probably shouldn't. she kisses him back deeply, fingers still in his hair she gives it a gentle tug forward trying to encourge him to kiss her even harder as a muffled moan leaves her lips her hips rolling slightly at the way he touched her, the pad of his finger adding pressure against her covered cunt as she lets out another whine.

“Hmm,” he hums thoughtfully, trying not to smile too much at her mischievous question. “Well, I’ll probably land Daphne in therapy, for starters.” She was likely to have a mental break at this rate, with how often he was making her cry. “Is that enough trouble for you? Or should I sneak you into my parents’ house and fuck you on their expensive furniture?” his voice is low and teasing, green eyes searching her face for a reaction. “They wouldn’t be happy with me… Breaking up with the Greengrass’s perfect daughter for the American transfer. Your family might be Purebloods, but they don’t have unbroken history here, in this stupid high society…” Old Regulus would have never called it stupid; it was his family’s culture and history, for better or worse. But the new Regulus won’t be able to fit in no matter how hard he tries, forever an outsider because of his new condition. “My mother would have a heart attack if I fucked you on her antique couch.” He’s being vulgar and it’s not something he would normally do, especially before they’ve established what this tension between them is and what their relationship is. But he can tell she wants it; that she’s trying to get it out of him, and he’s happy to oblige, both because he desires her and because he wants to cause problems.

Part of him is angry at the world, including Daphne and his parents. Maybe Salem would understand him… comfort him, even. It definitely brings him comfort to squeeze her ass, his palm sliding to take more of it as he squeezes harder. He tries to focus enough to answer her question when she points out how upset he makes Daphne for not being interested in her like everyone else. “I’ve been giving you attention as soon as you’ve walked in the room for weeks now. The only difference tonight is I’m actually grabbing your ass instead of just thinking about it.” He shrugs, continuing, “And guys fawn over her because they like blondes that are lacking in brain cells. It makes them feel smart…” Most men liked having their egoes stroked and Daphne would do that for them, by existing and being dainty and ditzy. Unfortunately for Daphne, she wasn’t his type and it was all wasted on him. Besides, he had no desire to look smarter because of her– he could look smart all on his own.

It’s definitely risky, putting his hand between her thighs, but he allows his palm to stroke her skin slowly, rubbing her inner leg. It turns him on a little more than it should, just touching her soft thighs, green eyes fixed on them. She points out how surprised she is that it was this easy to get him to notice her assets as her hand moves across his chest, making him shiver in anticipation. He’s never felt this hot before at just the thought of kissing someone and feeling her soft pink lips against his. “I’m tired of pretending like I don’t want to do things to you… Daphne can’t satisfy me and neither can that other girl.” She has a name, but Regulus doesn’t know if Salem knows it and he doesn’t care to tell her. No one matches up to Salem; no one is as beautiful or as clever as she is, holding his attention with both her perfect body and personality. “Why? Were you hoping for a challenge? I can be meaner, if you’re into that…” He leans in, catching her earlobe between his teeth to bite down gently. His fang nicks the corner, drawing blood. Heat rushes through his body from the scent of her hitting the air, immediately making his veins flare beneath his eyes, which darken. Taking the soft part of her ear in his mouth, he sucks at it, eagerly tasting the drop of blood before letting go. Part of him recoils a little, glancing away again so she doesn’t see his face as much until the veins have passed. But he licks his lips, wanting more and feeling the hunger start to claw at his stomach, almost painful because of the way he’d sampled her. He’s lucky this corner of the room is dark, but he knows he should be more careful.

Maybe she’s as obsessed with him as he is with her, if she noticed him biting the other girl and it bothered her. He can hardly believe what he’s hearing; that she was jealous because of who he fed on and the fact he didn’t choose her to use instead. “I used her because I knew it wouldn’t matter to me, if I lost control and killed her… But I couldn’t lose you. I like you too much.” His voice softens, his hand sliding further upwards between her thighs, wedged between them. He looks down at her lips, contemplating kissing them. She tells him she trusts him, making him lean in even more, pressing his forehead to hers. “Maybe I want you to be fragile for me… Or act like it, when I bite you while I’m inside of you.” He murmurs the words into her ear before shifting back towards her face, his lips closer to hers.

Her hands touch his face, making his heart melt a little, softening under her gentle palms. “You would do that for me?” he mumbles back, pressing his forehead to hers again, almost snuggling against her. She likes when his hand massages her butt, a quiet whimper leaving her, making his cock ache. She only makes it worse when a moan leaves her as his mouth is at her neck, pressing a kiss above her choker. Heat is spreading through his body, wanting more of her sounds. He places another kiss on her neck but open-mouthed, allowing his tongue to drag against it. Leaving a wet spot on her skin, he picks another area. Pressing a soft kiss first before sliding his lips open again, his tongue laves over her neck. He’s so mesmerized by the taste of her skin that he starts to forget they’re at the formal still, his hand sliding further up her thigh until his fingers are brushing her underwear beneath her skirt. He sucks her neck, moving higher so he’s just beneath her jaw. His teeth lengthened, they graze her skin teasingly. The hunger burns inside of him, making a moan slip from his throat as he attempts to resist biting. Finally pulling away because he can’t handle it any longer, he seals his lips to hers in a rough kiss, tilting his head to feel every part of her lips. He moans against her mouth, running his tongue along her lower lip. The pad of his finger is brushing against her panties, feeling the soft fabric.

[muzanswaifu]

Okey so idea(Kind of)Sanemi x reader but the reader is very innocent and naive and sanemi cant help bit want to fuck the so hard they completely ruin the innocence

Okay im gonna just do headcannons/bullets for this real quick but lemme know if you want a full fic!

Sanemi x Innocent!Reader

Warnings: dubcon, oral sex, squirting, loss of virginity (thats up to you though), a hint of sexual slavery, yandere?

Some background info: you are a nurse at Butterfly estate

-

He doesn't like that you ignore him, act like he isn't important, act like there isn't an absolute God in front of you

Your eyes don't wander, don't pry, you don't feel up his muscles for a second longer than you have to, you just do your job, fuck it's annoying, you're annoying

"Does this hurt?"

"This may sting a little bit..."

At first sanemi thought u were making fun of him with all your little apologies and checkups to make sure he wasn't in any pain

But with after seeing you converse with other patients, he quickly learned you were just like that - caring, nonjudging, unassuming

Innocent

He watches as the other male patients hit on you, flirt with you while you're just trying to do your job. You feed into their futile attempts, giggling at their little jokes because you don't understand that they're trying to get in your pants like the fucking idiot you are

But he prefer you not know anyway because he deals with them for you, and it makes him hum satisfied when you seem to be more attentive to him when those men aren't bothering you anymore

But he grows tired of seeing you so naive, so pure in your ways, especially with him. You blush so furiously when you feel his hand creep up your thigh when your checking on his injuries, slyly shuffling away to make him stop. He allows it, this time, because the shy look in your eyes makes his cock twitch, but you shouldn't be disobeying him like that. Don't you know who he is? Any other woman would be presenting themselves to him already, but you don't. And it's all because you're too damn virtuous. You unbearable fucking prude bitch.

He doesn't want you acting so innocent and holy around him, you're better than that, he deserves more than that

Sanemi wants to watch the sparkle in your eye dwindle to a glint of dumb lust as he ruins you for everyone else.

It's so clear that you haven't been fucked good, if at all. He can tell by the way you walk around so uptight and sinless. If you'd just let him break you, maybe you'd loosen up a bit.

You'd be the perfect bitch for him too, new and perfect for him to mold to his liking. He'd have you screaming in ecstacy while he wrecks you over and over and over again, sobbing his name just like you should. He hopes you have some form of physical training because he won't hold back in his strength, not until you're broken and fucked and stupid

He's bidding his time, waiting for the right moment to catch you alone and helpless. Probably after you've run your last errand and are cleaning up for the night. He's the only one in this building because of his status (one you don't seem to even give a shit about) so you can scream all you'd like and no one can bother you two.

You're shy to his advances, thinking maybe he's just a flirty individual, many men are to you, but he's coming on strong and it's scaring you. He catches on, and changes his tactic accordingly, drawing you in more playfully and seductive. You eat that shit up and he could almost laugh at how naive you are.

Really? Cheap compliments are what get that stick outta your ass? Figures you have shitty taste

A few teases here, praises there, you hardly noticed the hand sliding down your hip. In fact, you lean into it, and that's when he knows he's got you.

This is when you get sheepish again, cowering away and admitting that your not very experienced. He acts shocked to save your feelings but what the hell did you expect when you don't put out? It doesn't matter though because now you're only for him

But he'd be nice with you at first, he's not a monster after all. You're prepped nice and thoroughly, licked and kissed all over your little pussy so you'd be ready to take his cock to the hilt. He wouldn't stop till you had come all over his tongue at least three times

Once to figure out what you liked, the second to enjoy himself, and the third to get your hole dripping for him

He'd let you work on him after too, let you mouth at his cock like a little kitten, not caring if you even knew how to suck him off properly. Just seeing the purity in your eyes when you put your pretty lips on his dick for the first time would be enough to satisfy him. He could split your cute little throat open another time

But after that, playtime's over, you've had your fun. You had to be torn apart sometime, you should be grateful it's him and not some worthless bastard who couldn't even last two seconds

God, your so hot when you cry like that, tears pooling down your cheeks and stuttering pleas spilling past your swollen lips begging him to slow down and be more gentle. Yah, fuck that.

Eventually you learn to shut up and take it, it's not like he's listening to your whining anyway. Your desperate mewls and sobbing are such a turn on for him, like predator devouring it's prey. Even when your being fucked into oblivion, you still whimper like a little brat

It hurts huh? Then why did you squirt all over his dick just now? Give him a fuckin break

You're not a filthy whore yet, he admires that, even tells you he does, he likes that little bit of defiance. But you'll cave eventually, even if it's not tonight. No, tonight you don't even last all that long, passing out only a few hours in. Sanemi's aggravated at most, but your weakness was to be expected, he would just have to wait until you wake up to ravage you again.

And it'll be fun to train you like this! For him at least. Turn you into his perfect little cocksleeve, one that spreads her legs obediently whenever she sees him and can sit pretty on his cock for hours on end while he recuperates. And even then, you're leaving with him of course. Why would he let you stay where you can't warm his cock at all times?

when you're such a stupid slut for him, your almost bearable.

[mythicalmyles]

hiii ^^ I hope your having a wonderful day ^^ I have a request for Masky and Hoodie with a confident and dominant reader that ultimately bottoms ^^

Maybe the reader is also a killer and break into the same house Masky and Hoodie does they kinda fight in the kitchen that turns into a sex scene were they all have to keep quiet otherwise the house owner will wake up and call the police

Also if your okay with it can you add a knife kink, degrading praise and marking (bitemarks, hickeys, scratch marks, ect)

(Daddy ment,violence 18+)

(Name) let out a groan of pain as someone ran into his side, throwing him into the wall. He quickly dodged a kick to the stomach, blood rushing through his ears, usually he had the upper hand. Choosing to quickly kill off whoever.

His eyebrows shot up under his mask as he caught sight if Masky, rage filling his body. He knew that if Masky was here his little friend would be too far behind. “My kill.” Was all (Name) muttered before rushing past Masky, who was quick to grab him by the neck and throw him onto the couch. Masky’s hands wrapped around (Names) neck, cutting off his oxygen. (Names) nails clawed at Masky’s arms, he threw his fist out taking Masky by surprise.

(Name) quickly jumped off, running towards the kitchen. His plan to take out Masky was cut short when someone grabbed his hair and slammed his head off of the counter. (Names) vision went blurry as he tried ti recover, groaning in pain and gripping his head. He jumped out of his body when hands gripped his pants, yanking them down his ass. “Don’t you dare you cunt.” (Name) growled out, before he could try stop Masky pulling them down further Hoodie gripped his wrists and slammed them to the counter. “Shut the fuck up, be a good boy and take what you’re given.” Masky growled out before spreading (Names) ass cheeks and spitting on his hole. “I don’t take it stop.” (Name) growled kicking out. Hoodie grabbed his hair and yanked his head back, a choked sound flying from (Names) lips.

His watery eyes glared into Hoodie’s red stitched ones. Hoodie suddenly he flicked out his switch blade, drawing a light line across (Names) neck. (Name) sucked in a breath, realising how fucked he was. “Be a good boy. Or i leave you tied up and spread open for the police.” (Names) body tensed, the words making his cock twitch. “D-dont you dare.” (Name) growled out, sqeaking when Masky’s hand slammed off of his ass resulting in a cry being torn from his lips.

“C’mon, just be a good boy. Don’t worry, we’ll take good care if you.” Masky chuckles before sliding two fingers into (Names) ass. A guttural moan was torn from the pinned killer as the other two quickly dominated him. “God you’re so weak. You shouldn’t bother, you make a better fuckhole anyway pretty boy.” (Names) body shook as he tried to hold back his moans as Masky’s fingers assaulted his prostate, Masky’s digits pressed against and rubbed it to the point of tears falling down his cheeks as his mouth fell open in a silent scream.

(Name) wanted to lash out but as pleasure rolled down his spine his eyes rolled, moans finally pouring from his throat. “Aw, good boy.” Masky muttered in a snide tone as he slapped (Names) ass four times, one after the other. All (Name) could do was cry and moan as he tried his best to not lean into the blade Hoodie still had pressed to his throat.

“Call me daddy.” Masky muttered as he dragged his jagged nails down (Names) back and ass, bloody shredded flesh left in their trail. (Name) moaned loud enough to have Masky slap his hand over his mouth. “N-no.” (Name) choked out, his voice muffled. Masky dropped him, pushing him flat against the counter. Masky laughed as he took Hoodie’s knife, dragging it down (Names) back. (Names) body arched as he let out a loud moan, his orgasm sending his body shaking. “Say it.” Masky growled as he began cutting down the otherside of (Names) back. “A-ah! Daddy, daddy.” (Name) chanted as Masky chuckled and praised him, (Name) hated the fact tears dripped down his cheeks as he was being taken by his rivals. "Such a good boy!" Masky praised.

“St-stop.” (Name) weakly choked out as Masky’s cock rubbed against his hole. Masky slapped his ass hard. “What do you call me?” He demanded, (Name) tried not to sob as he fixed his words. “Da-daddy, please sto-.” Halfway through his words Masky slid inti him, cutting off his words as he tried not to scream at the penetration.

(Names) nails dug into the counter so hard he was sure he’d leave a mark, his eyes scrunched up and his mouth dropped in a silent scream as he had a cock pushed into him for the first time. (Names) eyes rolled as he finally submitted his body to the more experienced killers. Hoodie’s hands dove into his hair, bringing his mouth to his cock. (Name) knew if he tried anything he’d be dead in the spot. He let out a deep breath as he shakily licked the tip of Hoodie’s cock. Hoodie growled and shoved his cock straight down (Names) throat, relishing in the look of panic that flew across his face as Hoodie’s cock hit the back of his throat. “Relax.” Hoodie ordered as he began fucking (Names) mouth, enjoying every gag that left (Name). “Aw, look at you. Big killed bent over a counter, getting spit-roasted.

All (Name) could do was choke out moans when Hoodie would pull his cock out, mind reeling as his prostate was rammed by Masky’s cock and choked on Hoodie’s. “I think he can take us both.” (Names) dazed eyes silently plead with Hoodie not to. “Oh no, don’t bother looking at me like that. J just want to ruin you more now.” (Name) whimpered as Hoodie pulled him away by his hair, panic setting into (Name) as he realised they were both going to be inside of him.

(Name) whimpered and begged as Masky manoeuvred him so his hands were holding his legs spread. The feeling of Masky’s cock moving inside of him had (Name) whining and bucking his hips despite his protests. “Shh pretty boy, you’ll wake them up.” Hoodie muttered as he pulled up his face covering, quick to press his lips to (Names).

(Name) whimpered as Hoodie took control of their kiss, lining his cock up next to Masky’s. Hoodie chased him as he shook his head, a loud sob tearing through his throat as Hoodie pushed his cock into his ass. (Name) gripped Hoodie’s jacket while Hoodie’s hands slid around his waist. Hoodie’s hand shot over (Names) mouth as he bottomed out, stopping his scream from waking up their victim.

All (Name) could do was babble and moan as they split him open on their cocks, (name) let out a choked moan as Masky’s nails dug into his thighs. His back twisted as Hoodie’s hands began teasing his nipples and tugging on them. (Name) felt overwhelmed as they used him, he could barley think each slide of their cocks into him driving him closer to the edge.

(Name) didn’t last long as they easily slid him up and down their cocks, slamming against his prostate as he spasmed. (Name) almost screamed as he came, Hoodie’s hand quick to cut him off. (Name) clenched hard on their cocks causing them to cum, hips snapping into (Names) as they rode out their highs.

(Name) whimpered as overstimulation ran through his body, twitching as they filled him up with cum despite his weak protests not to. “Shut up, you loved it.” Masky chuckled as they threw him onto the couch. “Ill be taking these.” Hoodie grinned, holding up his pants and boxers. (Name) tried to get up and chase him, only to stumble and fall onto his face as red hot pain flared up his spine.

He whimpered as he felt their cum dribble out of his hole, panicked eyes staring at where they once were.

[thesamoanqueen]

Breakfast

Ratings: 18+

Warnings: SMUT; Fingering; a bit of oral sex; Errors like always, probably…

A/N: I'm shameless. I repost it cause the tags didn't work. Let me know if you want to be tagged for the next one~ Wish someone will like this new one anyway, bye!

Awakenings weren't for her. She had never liked to stay between the sheets, her body numb from sleep, feel her eyes get used to the light again or maybe she had never really had the opportunity to appreciate them. Certainly, had never happened to appreciate those of the two days she had left behind her, too much weight on her chest and her mind wandering in the dark all the time. In those days she usually kept herself busy to avoid the pain, till she collapsed physically letting the time do the rest and as expected, she had done it too the previous day. The results, however, had been different and for once, she had no desire to get out of bed to start the day and the weight that she felt around her waist was even pleasant.

- Aren't you a little too old to pretend to sleep? - Roman asked, his voice rough, giving her a little pinch on her bare side.

She should have regained consciousness, take stock of the situation and try to get a clear picture of what they had done, but she didn't really like it at that moment and honestly, the only picture she could visualize was Roman's face buried between her legs for what had seemed like an eternity. Or maybe it really had been, the big boy had been furious to the point of making her beg for mercy.

- Ssh, it's not nice to disturb... - she murmured, eyes closed with fake annoyance, moving under his arm to turn away.

Tried at least, because she just had time to inspire between the sheets, before feeling crushed against the pillow, Roman's shadow overhanging her and his weight hanging over. A sound of surprise escaped her mouth as she felt his grip on the wrist pinning her to the bed and her eyes flew open, snapping over her shoulder where she knew she would find him. His beard tickled her sensitive skin and his breath pounded on her neck full of red marks, moving a single tousled lock resting on her cheek.

- Find a kinder way to shut me up babygirl, you already ran enough your mouth yesterday... - Roman suggested, moving her hair with a disarming slowness considering how quickly he had jumped on her just a second before.

And it didn't matter if it was that or the tone he'd warned her in, lower and rougher than it usually was, a jolt ran straight between her thights and Roman's lips began sucking the line between hers shoulder and neck again, were just helping to make her a mess.

- I thought you liked hearing me talk - she muttered, putting on an offended expression.

Roman laughed, giving her a grin before sliding two fingers along her side and further down, up to her bare ass to feel its consistency with his entire hand.

- I found something I like better - he admitted, rubbing his lips on her ear and at that touch, she bent against him, in a perfect arc.

God, they've been up for how long? Ten minutes? Less? And she already wanted to be fucked until she forgot where she was or even who was. Intention that Roman was more than ready to indulge considering his boner which was resting against her buttocks and which made her bite her lip with heavy breathing.

It was not a one-night stand, nor a sudden attraction for a stranger that she would forget in the next town and maybe it wouldn't end well for her, but she didn't want to stop. She couldn't do it, not if Roman was in the middle and so, ignoring the dozens of work and friendship reasons why she shouldn't, she pushed to her knees to slide his shaft between her asscheeks. Y/N felt him rub against her with a low growl and his grip on her wrist tightened for a long moment, almost as if he were afraid of losing her, until the heat between them became too much. With heavy breathing and tense muscles, Roman kissed her nape and then released the wrists and grabbed her hips, drawing her closer to him. A moan made her tremble, toes already crumpling as she felt his tip pressing her wet entrance to rub between her asscheeks again, leaving a soggy trail. Up and down.

- Oh… I like that sound you make - he blew satisfied, repeating that gesture over and over, prompting her to rock her hips in an attempt to increase the friction.

She was such a mess and was more than sure she had never behaved like this to anyone else, but Roman had an effect on her that no one else had ever had. He had it when they worked, when they spent time together and with the latest discoveries, he also had it under the covers. And if he wanted to take control of her she would let him, Y/N trusted him and the way he held her was a turner on.

- You're such a tease! How about doing something? - she tried to retort in frustration, completely flattening her upper body on bed to push herself better.

At that gesture, Roman's fingers sank possessive into her hips, certainly creating yet another mark and Y/N turned to look between her lashes, discovering him almost hypnotized by the meeting of their bodies and the precum that dripped on her skin. His eyes had become darker and his mouth had curled into that typical expression, which he occasionally brought out even in the ring, when was about to lose control, hair falling around his gorgeous face.

Y/N had never had a type of man, not even in her teenage years, but there was no part of Roman inside or outside that didn't drive her crazy. He was her person. And seeing him so absorbed by the simple sway of her hips, so hungry, gave her a rush of power and arousal that her core didn't really need in the state already was.

She was hot and with humor dripping down her legs, she boosted him from the muscular thighs to his abdomen, rocking up and down with obstinacy without losing sight of him. The weight of his shaft leaping to the rhythm of thrusts was almost enough to make her cum and her moans became more needy with every second, until Roman began to give in too.

- Easy babygirl, easy or do you want to beg again? - he stopped her, pulling Y/N’s body against his manhood with a tug on the umpteenth turn of hips.

Ah she wanted it so bad! Wanted to feel him everywhere, to find out how weak her legs became from his thrusts, wanted her mind and body filled only with him, she wanted to feel herself tiny between his hands and his voice in her ears growling her name like a mantra.

- I didn't ask you to be gentle – Y/N mumbled and Roman leaned over her with a grin, kissing her on the shoulder.

- Dont push your luck with that attitude.

- I can be worse, y’know that. - she tried to retort stubbornly, but words died in her mouth the instant two fingers slipped inside her, snatching her a high-pitched moan.

After spending part of evening and the whole night getting fucked, her nub was so sensitive that she was on the verge of breaking up at any moment, but she couldn't have asked for more and Roman seemed to never get enough of her. Of every part of her.

- Uh-hun, but you're such a good girl for me... - he murmured, maybe to her or to himself, while his fingers pumped in and out of her with a disarming slowness.

Y/N felt her insides tighten around them with each intrusion and lost in that exhausting rhythm, didn't even notice that was on her side, one of her legs clinging to Roman's chest and his mouth going down hungry to her breasts. She leaned against him, grinding on his hand as he sucked one sensitive nipples and held him tightly, her fingers through his hair.

They could have blown up the hotel, been in the middle of a press conference or had a hurricane over the window and she wouldn't give a damn. It was worrying, cause she didn't even have Roman inside her yet, at least not until that very moment. The lack of his skillful fingers had been sudden, so short not to give her time to get angry and certainly she wasn't going to complain about that big change now.

- Holy shit! Ro! - she moaned, clinging to his big arms to hold herself when it was all inside her with a single deep movement.

- You're so beautiful all spread out like this... - Roman admired her, licking his lips to sink into her with another thrust without holding back.

The fact that he had touched that spot with disarming precision should have warned Y/N about what her body was teaching him, but she was only able to squirm against the pillow from her rush of pleasure.

It was so damn good...

- Just for me... - she heard him growl, sinking a second time into the same spot and her eyes shut as an all too familiar heat turned her stomach.

Y/N felt one of his hands caress her cheek to make her turn again and the other anchor her better to him for a new thrust. She reopened her eyes just in time to see him lowering himself, thumb rubbing her lips with love and his gaze dark with lust.

- Only for me - repeated, slamming his lips against hers in a heated kiss.

She grabbed him by his neck and squeezed under him, holding on to anything to keep from letting go, just to feel him so close, so over her. Roman tongue was already tasting every corner of her mouth and the thrusts did nothing but force Y/N to moan in silence, while she let him devour her without the slightest intention of giving in to the need for air. But in the end was too much for both of them and with their forehead pressed together, hairs scattered everywhere, Y/N bit his lip one last time deserving a low growl.

- Did you hear me, babygirl? - He urged her, increasing the pace of his thrusts without taking eyes off hers.

The bed under them was now creaking in a dangerous way and although the rooms were soundproofed in that hotel chain, there was very little to do about the knocks on the wall. But did she care? No, not in that moment, not with Roman pumping her inside like it was his life’s mission. And more the pace increased, more helpless she felt under him, more she wanted.

- I asked you if you hear me! Its just for me! - He growled heavily, turning her over to bury himself inside at a new angle.

Sure she had heard, but they weren't in position to talk about certain things at the time. None of them.

He was deep enough to make Y/N feel it in her stomach and her walls now did nothing but squeeze him, letting her humor dribble everywhere, creating obscene sounds with every thrust. More Roman pushed, more she got wet letting him slide better, more the noise of their naked bodies increased. It was ringing in her ears and she wanted more.

- Again please, I-fuck! Fuck! - she screamed out of control, escaping yet another kiss to cling on his shoulders.

- Mine… you’re m-mine. Take it, cmon!

- D-Dont stop, oh my!

Her legs ached, her lips were swollen and her mind had lost track of everything. She had the impression of being in a press, a fucking skillful press. The sheets were damp and air heavy with the smell of sex. She was so close to implode… so close…

- You love it, like t-this hm, dont you babygirl?! - Roman laughed, biting and sucking every piece of her.

His hands were everywhere, the chest half covered by the tattoo pressed against her breasts bouncing up and down with each thrust. Y/N had no idea how he was capable of it, but he had picked up the pace again and when he began to slow down with the obscene phrases, to delight her with those groans it was too much for her. She squeezed her legs around his sweaty hips, still bringing him closer and hid against his shoulder. He smelled so good, like a safe place.

- R-Roman, I- need it a little harde- Ah! - begged with broken voice, already feeling his hands lift her.

- I got you, babygirl… give it to me. I-Im right here, I got you! - He reassured her, his voice less harsh than before as he pulled her over him without the slightest effort.

- P-please! R-Ro, Im-God!

Leaning on his legs, with shaking arms around his neck and his beard tickling her jaw between kisses, she felt her heat grow thrust after thrust, until it was too much. Undaunted, Roman held her on top of his body and continued to thrust indulging every wave of pleasure as she descended from her apex and brought her forehead back against his with watered eyes.

She felt so good, it was all so...

- B-babygirl… - Y/N heard him grumble, his face sweaty and his muscles tense.

She moved a lock of hair stuck to his forehead and rocked on him, meeting his deep thrusts at an unnatural pace. She was bursting in her chest as she looked at him like that and further down, her center had begun immediately to tighten mercilessly around him, causing another orgasm to grow. She kissed him softly, despite the movements of the rest of her body, going down to bite his bearded jaw and neck to give him a little breath. Y/N felt his big hands squeeze her ass as she glided on him frantically and his thrusts became confused, disjointed, his muscles tenser.

- So thi-ght… fuck! Yes! That’s it! K-keep doing that! - he moaned, his brow furrowed and abs contracted from the effort of thrusts.

- It feel so good! - she was burning and couldn't help it.

Y/N placed her hands on his pecs, trying to hold on as much as possible and positioned herself better, guiding him inside her in circular movements that made him throw his head back with an almost furious growl. The entire length of him pumping in and out of her wet core, staying in with only the tip and then coming back and starting over. It was a drug.

- You're take it all, d-don't stop!

- ... n-no way!

And Y/N would have done it for the rest of her days if she had been able to, but her body was on the edge and the heat in her lower belly was building up faster than she had expected. But it couldn't happen right now, she had to hold out a little longer, she had to do it for Roman and she bit her lip, looking down under her. She watched in bewilderment as their bodies met one lunge after another, legs trembling and moods mixing, a sticky trail shone on Roman's shaft up to the inside of her thigh and a burst of heat hit her, making her tremble.

She couldn't take it, she was trying, but it was too much. It was just too much.

- It’s… i-its okay, Im there too, i-m just… Fuck!- she heard him call her back as if he had read her mind and it was enough for her to look up.

Her walls tightened one last time, while Roman under her stiffened in a thrust deeper than the others and the heat of his released hit her, giving her the final blow. She clung to his back again, Roman's lips already on her and felt like she was falling from the top of a building. Her body shaken by tremors and her mind clouded as she slowly, more and more slowly regained consciousness of the bed, of the room around them, the light that filtered through the heavy curtains.

She rested his head on Roman shoulder and he took the opportunity to kiss her, pulling Y/N down with him for some rest, his fingers stroking her head. Silently, she listened to his breathing become more regular, the hearts of both slow down the frantic rush they had launched into, and her fingertips began to trace the line of his tattoo, one leg still clinging on him.

- Do you know what would be perfect now? Breakfast. - Roman boomed beneath her after some time and her eyes ran from the anonymous alarm to him.

- Don't look at me like that, you sneaky little, there's nothing in my stomach... since yesterday. Im a big boy - he joked, making her giggles.

Amused, she shook her head and seeing the smile with which he was looking at her, an idea suddenly hit her.

It was definitely not breakfast time and sooner or later someone would come to disturb them to find out at least what happened to the face of WWE, but maybe they could make a tear. On the other hand, she too was hungry, but not necessarily for food.

- Then… we have to do something about that. – she said, lifting herself up just enough to slide her face down and blow her breath on his boner.

With her gaze fixed on him, she saw his eyes darken at the first touch of her fingers and one of his hands snapped to caress her lower back. Y/N licked her lips and took his shaft, feeling the tension build up again, the veins swelling and she rocked her body beside Roman. She pressed the tip against her lips for a moment and with her gaze back on him, she slowly sucked it, making him groan in approval.

- Ladies first? - asked with a fake innocent look and Roman nodded, giving her an encouraging caress on her head.

- Always.

- They raised you so well.

Just for a little more. Just for breakfast time.

[odetojeons]

Until It Feels Like You’re In Heaven — Jeon Wonwoo

request:  Hello do you still take requests? Your writing is amazingggg!! Thank you for existing 😭💕. Can i req a whipped dom!wonwoo x fem reader where he has a size kink and a smol gf please? I think that will be a cute concept 🥺

tags: fem and sub!reader, dom!wonwoo, size kink, tattoed and pierced jeon wonwoo just because, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (uh idk why but I never write sex with a condom help), established wonwoo x reader, a tiiiny bit of spitting kink, very light verbal humiliation, aftercare, this goes from fluff to horny really quickly, fluff if you squint (or not?), a frankly unrealistic amount of cum, OH AND, stomach bulge 🥴

a/n: so haha I am back? with more filth? I tried adding fluff (even tho I completely forgot that the person who made the request asked for whipped wonwoo, good thing this is always in my agenda every time I write so I didn't have any problems lmfao) but I'm too much of a horny bitch and a simp for this man so,, idk? tell me what you think later! I hope you all perish— I mean, like this!

Word Count: 7826

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “Aren’t you going to help?” you question, lifting a brow at your boyfriend, who’s currently sitting in one of the chairs and supporting his chin with the palm of his hand, plate of onions that should be already cut laying untouched in front of him.

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“Nope,” Wonwoo answers, giving you that kind of smile which makes you almost, almost feel less annoyed at the fact that you’ve been trying to reach something in the upper shelves for the last five minutes and he doesn’t move his ass to help you at all. “You’re just too cute trying to reach something.”

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There’s heat creeping up your neck, cheeks tinting red, and Wonwoo's smile gets bigger, shining and full of fondness. It leaves you stunned in silence for a while. It’s hard not to be in love with him. But it’s not like you try anyways.

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“J-just hurry up, aren’t you hungry?” you cough, looking away solely because you can’t stand the warmness in Wonwoo’s face without feeling like you’re going to combust any time soon.

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“I am. I can help you out,” he states simply, but doesn’t make a move. You gesticulate with your hand, pointing at him and at the rice jar in the upper shelf. “But only if you say please, though.”

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“I’m—” laughing incredulously, you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “Would you please get the rice jar for me, sir?”

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Wonwoo stares at you for a second too long, eyes a bit dark, and gets up to get the jar, without breaking eye contact. You instinctively make yourself smaller when his bigger and broader frame hovers over you, large enough to swallow your tiny body. The size difference has always been something you both feel incredibly turned on by.

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“So small,” he appreciates, always does, and your neck burns from the intensity of your blushing. “The cutest.”

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Wonwoo puts the rice jar in your hands, the darkness in his face melting into a beam.

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“Here it goes, little girl,” he says, going back to his chair to complete the task which he has been doing for at least ten minutes now. The way he says little girl has you dumbfounded, heart hammering against your chest. “Are you just going to stand there? Do you like being called little that much?”

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“Shut up,” you admonish, blushing furiously as you turn on your back to continue what you were doing.  You just hate how everything Wonwoo does affects you so much. You’re sure this must be bad for your health.

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The two of you continue your journey through cooking and eating after you’re both done with the preparations. Things with Wonwoo are always so easy, everything feels natural and domestic and the bubbling feeling of happiness you feel whenever you’re with him lulls you to fall in love with him even deeper than before.

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The way he teases you when you’re clumsy and spill sauce over yourself, but still cleans you up with the most fond smile ever, like you’re so completely adorable he can’t help himself. Or when you put more salt in the food than you should and you know it’s not that good, but he still compliments it and tells you he loves it so much, the sincerity in his eyes makes a surge of something pull at your lower stomach.

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If Jeon Wonwoo isn’t the love of your life, you don’t know who is.

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 ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

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But right now you just want the ground to eat you alive and swallow you whole, because you’re standing right in front of the bed. The one bed. To which it suddenly doesn’t look big enough, not as you remember.

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Well, it’s not like you have never shared a bed before, you have even had a shit ton of sex in this exact piece of mattress, but the thing is, it’s been a while since you last saw Wonwoo. His job required him to spend three months away, and this is the first time you came to his house ever since he came back two days ago.

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You consider throwing yourself out of the window and into the dark, miserable night, thinks your poor heart will explode otherwise.

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“I’m not going to eat you.” Wonwoo’s voice carries over from the bathroom door, startling you into action. You jerk toward the bed, jumping on it and face flushing. You had showered before him, now dressed with one of his big shirts.

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It fell all the way to your mid thigh, the size difference between the two of you making you almost drown on the fabric of his clothes. It smells nice, smells like Wonwoo, and your cheeks burn when he drinks the sight of you in with dark eyes, not even trying to hide.

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“Unless you want me to,” he adds, not helping your situation at all.

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BSHANDJAJSND?, your brain supplies.

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“Oh my god,” you admonish, yanking the blanket off the bed and just as you get in, your eyes hone in on the ink swirling up Wonwoo’s right biceps. You have seen the tattoo through the pictures he sent you before, the snake crawling up to his shoulder, head stopping at his right chest.

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This is, however, the first time you’ve seen the metal bar through one of Wonwoo’s nipples — to which you already knew the existence of, but looking in person is totally different —, heat winding in the pit of your belly as you realize the snake is looking right at that same nipple. Unfortunately for your poor heart, he’s wearing nothing but a pair of sweats, hanging low on his hips, slim waist on display.

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Wonwoo is… hot.

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There’s no other way to put it despite your best efforts. He looks like one of those Greek statues, rippling muscle and hand carved abs, the cut of his jaw too sharp to be real. Your mouth waters and you can’t look away.

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And Wonwoo has been changing. He always had the thin type of body, being slim and tall, but in the end of last year he started exchanging the lazy hours he spent gaming with animated workouts at the gym — something about the way he was wasting his precious time of life and he could be acquiring knowledge and being healthy instead of sitting in front of a computer for hours —, and holy fuck if the result wasn’t quite the damn view.

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You draw the blanket right up to your chin, back very purposefully to Wonwoo’s side of the bed as you’re still trying to stop the mild heart attack you have going on. You don’t want to see him climbing into bed for safety purposes but that doesn’t mean your heart rate doesn’t spike up when the bed dips. When Wonwoo settles down under the same blanket, your brain very enthusiastically — and meaningfully — points out that you’re only a few centimeters away and that there’s nothing separating you.

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His abs flash behind your eyes and you nearly throw the blanket off, ready to storm out of the room and sleep on the sofa instead. You let out a breath you don’t even know you’re holding when Wonwoo flicks the flight off, the room disappearing into darkness, before he turns on the red leds from under his bed.

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You feel warm all over with the fact that he still remembers you don’t like sleeping in complete darkness.

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You try not to tense too much when he drapes an arm around your waist, locking you in. Your legs tangle together as he adjusts himself better, the other arm coming behind your head to serve as a pillow. Now you’re not only dying from the closeness but as well essentially drooling over the bulge of his thick biceps.

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Congratulations universe for managing to make you even more desperate.

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You’re not sure how long you just lie there, staring out the window, unable to fall asleep. Your brain doesn’t want to shut off, a blaring alarm of Jeon Wonwoo going off in your head.

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“I missed you so much,” Wonwoo says as if he read your thoughts, voice soft and filled with warmth, and you find yourself immediately melting in his arms despite your nervousness. “Thought I was going crazy without you, munchkin.”

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There’s a hard squeeze in your heart. You just love so much when he calls you that.

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“Missed you too,” you admit with a smile, the tip of Wonwoo’s nose dragging through your hair as he inhales the smell of his own shampoo. “Missed your smell.”

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“Just my smell?” Wonwoo teases with a light tone, caressing his free hand on your inner thigh. It was supposed to be a feather-like gesture, but the closeness between the two of you made your body oversensitive, and you find yourself moaning softly as your skin rocks with a shiver.

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Wonwoo tenses immediately when he hears the sound, hand stuttering to a stop. There’s a beat of what you call the most painful silence you ever had — your mind swirls with the thought that you just ruined the mood, face heating up uncontrollably at your own neediness —, before his fingers sink into the flesh of your inner thigh, startling you with the strength behind his grip.

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“Answer me.”

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You whine louder this time, the realization of his change of tone going from fond to an irrevocable order sinking wanton deep within your lower stomach. You try to close your legs, but Wonwoo’s leg stops you where it rests right in the middle of them, dangerously close to your throbbing core. You wonder if he could feel the heat emanating from it.

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“N-no,” you begin, voice already shaken up. Wonwoo’s breath caresses the helix of your ear, making goosebumps surge all over your skin. “Missed y-your bed too.”

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“Is that so?” he hums, chest vibrating where it presses against your back. “What else, munchkin?”

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“Missed—” your voice gets caught up in your throat when he licks your helix, teeth pulling the lobe of your ear. The soft drag of his lips all over that place is making your job difficult. “M-missed all of you, hmmm.”

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Wonwoo hums again, pleased with your answer, and leans so close to you your body gets half pinned to the bed. This way his bigger frame completely engulfs your smaller one, the difference between your sizes getting even more overwhelming now that he’s bulked up.

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And you’re not the only one affected by it, because as soon as Wonwoo realizes how he almost swallows you up in this position, he downright moans right by your ear.

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“So fucking small,” he tells you appreciatevely, voice one octave lower as his fingers presses on your inner thigh harder. “Missed touching you.”

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There’s a shift in Wonwoo, his leg rising up between yours and stopping centimeters away from the heat of your cunt, and you can’t hold back the shiver, wants Wonwoo to press down there. When you attempt to slide Wonwoo’s hand up and off of you so then you could turn around, you’re met with a growl instead, Wonwoo bodily pinning you to the bed.

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“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, and it makes you feel like you’re a prey just ready to be caught by the big, bad wolf. You whine softly at that thought, hand coming to grab at Wonwoo’s wrist reflexively.

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“Wonwoo,” is your answer, like that would explain everything. Wonwoo chuckles softly, embarrassment burning on your cheeks.

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“When we called and I saw your face,” he says, barely above a whisper. “I wanted to fuck you so bad.”

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Suddenly, you can’t remember how to breathe, Wonwoo’s mouth on your neck, planting a soft kiss just under your ear. He nuzzles into the same spot, kisses lower and your heart shakes loud enough you think the neighbors might hear, hyperaware of every inch of your bodies touching.

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“I know I couldn’t, so I did it all from behind,” Wonwoo admits, sending your mind into a little haze. Of course he has been jerking off to the thought of you, but hearing him say it out loud has your panties getting soaked. “Sticking my dick in…”

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Wonwoo hasn’t stopped nuzzling you, in some kind of daze as he inhales your scent. There’s a hand on your hip now, holding you down, liquid heat pooling in your belly, spreading outward.

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“…and fucking you mercilessly…” he continues, voice getting deeper and rougher with each word, his breath labored. “…and watching you cum endlessly… I thought I would be fine just imagining it.”

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“W-Won—” you start, breathless, the sound of your own voice sounding so airy leaving you embarrassed. But then finally, finally he presses his thigh into your core, your hips immediately going down to rut hard against the muscle.

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“Fucking drenched,” Wonwoo snarls lowly when he feels the wetness of your soaked panties dirtying the fabric of his sweatpants.

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The sound makes you writhe on the bed, fists balling in the mattress.

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“But seeing you, so small…” the trace of Wonwoo’s hand in your skin is light, almost like a gentle whisper as it makes a burning path up, up, up until it stops by your neck, fingers closing softly around your throat. “Makes me want to rail you, carve the shape of my big cock inside your walls.”

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Wonwoo’s teeth sink into the skin just at the base of your neck. It’s hardly a bite, you know he could leave worse, but then Wonwoo laps at it afterwards, tender, surrenders you into moving your hips obscenely on his thigh. The way he says, knows his cock is big has heat licking your insides, and if it were anyone else saying the same thing you would be cringed, but there’s just something special about Jeon Wonwoo doing this that makes him look like the hottest man alive.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re addicting,” Wonwoo admits with a growl, the feeling of his touch turning possessive as he helps you ride his thigh better by a hand on your waist. “Once I get a taste I can’t stop myself from wanting more. Wanna have my way with you until you’re all mine.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Need seeps through your bones, body trembling as you try to scatter the air it has been knocked out of your lungs when Wonwoo fits his cock in the curve of your ass.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-you’re hard,” you comment, as if it’s not obvious, but it has been so long since the last time you felt his bulge pressing against you that it makes you desperate. “You’re so hard.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Who’s fault do you think it is?” Wonwoo questions, groaning when you sway your hips from side to side on his cock.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Can we…” you trail off, hiding your face in the pillow. “Y-you know?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Nope, you gotta be more specific,” he says with a teasing smile, and you smack him in the arm. Wonwoo laughs before his voice gets serious. “Say it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

This switch of him turning on and off between a sweet boyfriend to the man who doms you never fails to give you a whiplash.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Can we— Can w-we fuck?” you ask shyly, wanting the ground to swallow you whole. You have no idea why you are being this shy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hmm, it depends,” Wonwoo hums like he’s considering the options. You turn to look at him, mortified, but he only laughs at your indignation. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You blush furiously at the question, face turning to look away as you mumble a yes, but then Wonwoo’s grabbing at your jaw and yanking your head back in place until you’re staring right in the deepness of his eyes, the intensity of them stunting you into complete silence.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he orders, leaving no room for arguments, and you nod your head quickly at that. “Out loud.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-yes,” you hurry to obey, watching satisfaction curl all over his face. “‘M always a good girl.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I don’t think so, munchkin,” Wonwoo grins, wicked and teasing, and you brace yourself for whatever is going to happen this night. “Sometimes you’re so desperate and impatient you can’t even wait for me before fucking yourself with those plastic toys of yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” and you’re unable to look away even when shame burns all over your body. “H-how did you—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“How did I know?” your sentence morphs into a moan when Wonwoo presses his thigh so hard against you cunt it has your body jumping a little. “You think I wouldn’t feel how you’re more loose when I fucked you? You think I don’t notice the way you look at me?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo is mercilessly dragging your hips up and down his leg, your whines sounding high and sweet in your own ears.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re oblivious even to yourself,” he tells you, tone rough as he ruts against your ass. Your heart lurches in your chest, Wonwoo’s words like a hot coal in the pit of your belly, erupting into flames. You want to squeeze your eyes shut, cunt pulsing with arousal. “Even today, the way you were staring at me…”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But then, Wonwoo’s touch is gone. His hands leave your hips, thigh frees you from the pressure, and the warmth seems so far now. You turn, complaint already at the tip of your tongue, but Wonwoo’s faster, rougher as he manhandles you on your back and hovers over your body, caging you in with his arms.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You looked like a prey who has just been caught into the wolf’s den,” he smiles at you, wicked and cruel as he grabs your jaw and pushes your head back. “Like you wanted me to break you in until it feels like you’re in heaven.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s a breath against your bare neck, his groan hitting your skin when he bites it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Or eat you up until there’s nothing left in you that doesn’t belong to me,” you’re definitely not expecting the moan that escapes Wonwoo’s mouth, so affected and deep it’s got all the hairs in your nape standing up, every fiber of your body telling you to submit. “Fuck, and it turns me on so much.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You make a sound out of neediness, hands reaching for Wonwoo. He goes easily, body pressing into yours as he crashes your lips together. Wonwoo kisses you like he wants to conquer you, licking into the seam of your mouth and teeth scraping at your bottom lip just so he could soothe the pain later with his tongue. Your head spins with the intensity of it, it’s messy and there’s too much spit and teeth, but that only makes it even more addicting.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But Wonwoo doesn’t kiss you enough today. He almost never does when he’s feeling like that — possessive, mean, wicked even, when he needs you to know your damn place —, wants to ebb the pleasure away when you’re starting to get hotter until it’s replaced by pure desperation and you can’t do anything else other than beg for him to give in to you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

So that’s what you do, staring up at his eyes trained on you as if you’re a prey.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Please,” you start, voice caught into a moan when Wonwoo’s fingers sink into your jaw and his mouth falls ajar, like the sound of you saying this particular word gives a physical stroke to his cock. “P-please, fuck me. Wanna— Wanna belong t-to you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And that’s enough. That’s enough, that’s enough, Wonwoo wants, you want, and he’ll give that to you since he has always been a weak man for your begging. There’s a fraction of seconds that he thinks he might pass out with all the blood rushing from his head to his other head, cock throbbing in his sweatpants.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Don’t know how so much eagerness fits into this little body of yours,” Wonwoo murmurs against your mouth, his hand squeezing your face. You find yourself parting your mouth open, whining, pliant and overwhelmed as Wonwoo slips his tongue in again, kissing you filthy. The scent of his familiar cologne is so sharp, surrounding you and leaving your mind dazed until all you can think is Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo. When he pulls back this time, Wonwoo pushes his thumb into your mouth, eyes half-lidded as he watches you swirl your tongue around it, sucking it further into your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan around it, watching Wonwoo’s every reaction, the way his breath hitches, shoulders tensing. There’s a shift on the bed, Wonwoo moving up and up and up and you can’t breathe because now the bulge pressing against the fabric of his clothes is standing proudly right in front of your face, Wonwoo almost straddling your chest. You let the realization that he’s going to fuck your mouth sink deep within your core, and try not to show how deeply affected you are by the idea.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You fail, of course, hips lifting off of the bed and falling down again, biting around the finger inside of your mouth that keeps you from taking a better look in the place you are dying to see.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“That desperate to suck me off, baby?” Wonwoo asks, and you flush, hate how you love the humiliated burn, how it makes you wetter. You’re too embarrassed to throw something back at Wonwoo, gaze dropping to his erect cock the best you can. He pushes your head back up, making you look at him instead. “Do you wanna see it?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I do,” you reply, a little too fast for your own good, and it only serves for Wonwoo to laugh at your neediness. You debate if you’re as red as you think you are, the burn in your cheeks spreading all the way down to your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Wonwoo’s tone is almost condescending, still playful, like he doesn’t think you can even handle the sight of his cock, and you like how it makes your cunt twitch and ache. It’s as if you enjoy the belittlement, enjoy the way Wonwoo wants you to prove yourself.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’m,” you start, swallowing, “I’m ready.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s smile is a touch dark, nearly a sneer, but his hand leaves your mouth to hook a thumb in the waistband of his pants. You nearly drool. He pulls on the fabric until his cock is free, slapping against your left cheek and smearing precum on your face. Your head spins, realising that even this part of Wonwoo’s body seemed to have grown bigger. Maybe it’s your imagination, haven’t actually seen it in real life for the past three months, but the thickness is intimidating.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The best intimidating possible.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your heart thuds in your chest, unable to look away from his cock. There’s spit collecting on your tongue, embarrassment fighting against your desire to please. Leaning forward, you suckle the tip into your mouth, making a pleased sound when you taste the salty tang of precum.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo leans back a bit, wanting to assess your face better, and the taut lines of his body contorts in an even hotter way with the new position. You moan again, staring at the piercing in Wonwoo’s nipple and the head of the inked snake looking at it, and sucks on the head, tongue pushing along the underside. Your body throbs with your own heated desire.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You wrap a hand around the base, gut twisting hotly when you realise you can’t even get your fingers all the way around — no matter how many times you notice this, they all make you feel equally needy. And you’re not the only one affected by it, Wonwoo’s hips kicking forward and cock thrusting inside of your mouth, the growl he lets out going straight to your core.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck,” he says, breath audible enough to echo inside the room. “I will ruin you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The confession has your body arching for a few seconds, sucking hard on the tip of Wonwoo’s cock until he’s moaning at the feeling. He takes a fistful of your hair, but you push against the hold so you could take more of it into your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Quit it,” Wonwoo demands, your displeased whine making his hold grow firmer. “Do as you’re told or you might not get my cock at all tonight.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He pulls you off, your pants loud and labored.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did I make myself clear?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yes, sir,” you add just for the teasing — but mostly because you want Wonwoo to punish you for making him lose his beloved control —, feeling pleased as you watch the clear change of expressions going on in Wonwoo’s face. His eyes darken impossibly more, eyebrows frowning and then there’s a hand on your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your mouth goes dry as soon as his fingers close around your throat, body writhing and mind going into submission mode.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Filthy little slut,” Wonwoo snarls, face suddenly close, and then he’s spitting into your open mouth and you feel like you will come very soon. You flinch, eyes shutting on reflex, and then moan. “Want me to punish you, don’t you?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You don’t say anything, can’t say anything, but you hope the look in your eyes answers his question. It probably does, because there’s a tiny little smirk playing on the edge of Wonwoo’s lips before he kisses you, softer than you could ever imagine he would be in this moment.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” he breathes, the sudden confession making a different kind of burn itch your throat. You know very well that when Wonwoo tells you that I’m the middle of sex then it’s because this will be a passionate fucking. One of those that he keeps your body so close you think you might become one with him, one of those he kisses you so gently one moment only to treat you roughly in the other, one of those he wants to make you fall apart, crumble and cry and even so, it will be full of love and care and sweetness. “I love you so much.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t wait for your answer. Doesn’t need to, he knows your heart belongs to him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Say ah for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo instructs and you obey, mouth hanging open, tongue out. Wonwoo slaps his cock against it, precum dirtying your tongue as the slap slap slap of his cock hitting your mouth fills the heavy air of the room. He even traces the tip over your upper lip, smearing precum along your cheek when he slaps your face with it before placing his cock right back on your waiting tongue. “Put this mouth to better use.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You do, eager to do as you’re told after Wonwoo’s confession, blood singing from his praise and his disparagement alike. You sink down onto it as far as you can take it, nearly gagging when it hits the back of your throat. Wonwoo drowns out a broken “fuck” above you, stroking your cheek and moving further in the bed to lessen the awkward twist of your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You look so good with my cock in your mouth,” Wonwoo breathes, voice strained as you suck him off, head bobbing. He brushes your hair back, little groans and growls escaping him every time his cock hits the back of your throat, you swallowing around it, or when you speed up, fucking your mouth on Wonwoo’s length. “Such a pretty little cocksucker, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You blush, heart hammering in your chest with the compliment, but he closes a fist in your hair and makes you stop all movements.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Gonna fuck your mouth,” Wonwoo starts, holding your wrist with his free hand and putting your fingers above his thigh. You know that it means if you want me to stop, tap twice, and it makes heat coil in your belly. “until you gag.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan a bit uncontrollably around his cock, legs kicking in the bed at the affirmation, and Wonwoo is staring at you with a look you can’t quite describe. It makes you ashamed of being so eager but at the same time proud of being his little cockslut.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo holds you in place, hips bucking into your mouth. He goes slow at first, wanting you to get used with the feeling because it has been a while since the last time you sucked him off. It is short lived, as soon as you look up at him and nod — the best you could with your movements being kind of restricted —, his thrusts turn sharp and fast, your jaw aching from how long you had Wonwoo’s fat cock in your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan, one of your hands still working up and down along Wonwoo’s shaft as he fucks into you, tears beginning to prickle at the corners of your eyes. He falls a bit forward when you start gagging a little, throat convulsing around his thickness, and he sprawls his fingers in the wall for support.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck fuck fuck, shit,” Wonwoo breathes, voice gravelly, his grip in your hair getting tighter and tighter. Tingles spark down your spine, wetness pouring out of you and soaking your panties even more and you want so desperately to come, to be fucked, but you want to please him first.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s thrusts begin to turn erratic as he fucks your mouth, a growl erupting out of him on a particularly hard thrust, and then he’s pulling away. You look at him, mind in a haze, but still dumbfounded. His breath is labored and he looks like he’s having a hard time keeping together, hips thrusting into the air. It boosts your ego to see him this messed up because of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did so well for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo tells you, voice strained from effort but still full of fondness, and you feel butterflies dancing in your stomach at the praise. It seems like he wants his orgasm to ebb away. At the look you’re giving him, he adds: “Wanna cum with you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You mewl at the thought, watching him position himself between your legs again and kissing you slowly. Wonwoo caresses your cheek with a gentle thumb, other hand tracing a feather-like path down your body. His fingers brush against your nipple, the whine you let out being swallowed by Wonwoo’s greedy mouth, and he sneaks his hand under your shirt just as his kisses fly to your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And then Wonwoo’s sucking. Hard.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It caughts you off guard, hips lifting off of the bed and thigh pressing tightly against Wonwoo’s cock, his groan being muffled by your skin. He bites, suckles and kisses the particular spot underneath your jaw, so far up your neck you won’t be able to hide it, especially because it’s summer. And you feel warm all over, how he always remembers exactly your pleasure point, the place that has your head spinning with pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your hands fly to his hair, cunt throbbing with need when he tongues at the purple hickey, and it’s throbbing, pulsating with how hard he sucked. It leaves you breathless, not having time to recover when Wonwoo pulls your shirt up until he can get one nipple into his mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwon, fuck,” you whimper, body oversensitive with all that has been going on, and Wonwoo growls at the nickname, hand coming to pinch your other nipple like he’s telling you how much this affects him. “Please—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo bites at it, tongue coming to soothe the pain later, and you’re sure the grip you have on his hair must be painful, but he says nothing; only looks more intent on making you moan. Wonwoo busies himself with sucking hickeys all over the place as one of his hands continues to descend down your body, thumb pressing in a spot by your hips that has your back arching and a desperate whine being pulled out of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Down and down, his fingers then slips inside your penties, brushing across your clit so lightly that it has your whole body rocking with shivers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But then, Wonwoo’s body goes completely still. You feel him tensing under your palms, heat already flooding your face when you know he feels it, feels the way you’re already stretched open for him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You—” he starts but stops himself, pushing a finger inside for great measure. Wonwoo growls when he meets almost no resistance, face lifting from where it rests on your chest to look at you. “When?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The intensity of his voice leaves your mouth dry.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“E-earlier, in the— in the s-shower,” you confess, voice quiet, and you can’t look away, Wonwoo’s eyes pinning you to your spot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hah,” he states simply, a sound of pleasant surprise, and adds another finger inside. Wonwoo pushes them to the hilt, until his knuckles brush your pelvis. You moan, head thrown back at the sudden, but welcomed intrusion. “Acting all nervous around me but this is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He gyrates his hand, pushing hard and without mercy, right before he adds another finger, this time more slowly. It burns a little, his fingers way bigger than yours, but you love the slight pain.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did you come into my house knowing I would fuck you?” Wonwoo asks, knows the answers but does it anyway. He moves his hand a little, waiting for your to be more comfortable with the sensation of his fingers, but as soon as your frown turns upside down, Wonwoo has no restrains whatsoever, fucking into you fast and sharp. “Fingered yourself knowing that I would split you open on my big cock?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You can’t even think straight, hips rising off of the bed, but Wonwoo holds your waist with his free hand and pins them down hard. Your upper body lifts with this, back arching and legs kicking everywhere as you can’t stop the loud moans slipping through your lips, doesn’t even care about the neighbors as your nails sink into Wonwoo’s back to the point it might leave tiny crescent moons all over it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did you come back then?” Wonwoo continues, pace unforgiving even when tears well up into your eyes. He trusts you to use your safeword if needed as much as you trust him to use his. “Did you?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You struggle to answer, voice being surrendered to moans and whines and whimpers and it’s hard to focus when he’s hitting your sweet spot with the tip of his fingers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Ah! Ah, hmmm, f-fuck, please Won— Wonwon,” you try, can’t even understand how you still manage to get red when you realise Wonwoo is looking at you with so much desire. The point you both most like about your relationship is that Wonwoo is the dom, but he knows you have him in the palm of your tiny hands. “I, ah, d-din’t. Di— Didn’t want to, fuck, please— c-come without you—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pulls his fingers out at that, your cunt clenching around nothing as he goes lighting fast to take both of your clothes off, grab your waist and flip you on your stomach just as he reaches for the nightstand to grab what you know very well it’s a bottle of lube. He pulls your hips up until you’re face down, ass up on the bed, the hurry in all of this only sending desperation all over your body, and the sound of the cap being opened has butterflies in your stomach.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah? Fuck,” Wonwoo sounds a mess, fingers hurrying to close a fist on his cock and jerk it off furiously to spread the lube better, the wet head nudging against your rim. “Fuck, shit, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Do it,” you beg. “Please.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And who is he to deny what you want?

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pushes inside you slowly despite his hunger, knows he’s big and there’s an alarming size difference between the both of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your hands clench into fists and it feels like you’re being impaled onto Wonwoo’s cock, going deeper than any cock you ever taken before. Tears cling to your lashes as a small jolt of pain runs up your spine, the lube easing Wonwoo’s way in. Overall you’re proud of yourself, haven taken him before, more times than you can count, and you accommodate his cock like a pro.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your chest heaves, no amount of air feels like enough as Wonwoo’s cock all but punches everything out of you. You’re biting at the pillow by the time the last of it pushes into you, a haze surrounding your mind because it feels so good.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s groan transforms into a moan once he’s buried all the way into you, hips flush against your ass and spreading you open so wide and so deep, you would think you might break if you didn’t know any better. You gasp, back arching downward as you take your time to adjust to the large intrusion.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo kisses your shoulder tenderly, waiting for you to grow used to the feeling. He can be rough when it comes to bed, but he always is mindful of you no matter how impatient and desperate he is. There’s this soft feeling going on inside you, mixing with your pleasure and it only serves to make you more needy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t move for a while, hot breath falling against your neck as he stands behind you. You feel surrounded — his scent everywhere, the pulse of the hickeys he carved on your skin, the press of his long fingers on your waist —, your submission for Wonwoo’s eyes only.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You nod at him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

A lick at your neck is all the warning you get before Wonwoo pulls out so very slowly, cock dragging against your walls and rim. It feels like forever, you whining at the sensation, and then you’re being slammed back into.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Ah!” you gasp, eyes blurry as you struggle for air. You moan as Wonwoo drags himself back out again, and thrusts right back in and groans at the feeling. “Y-yes—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So good,” Wonwoo growls, close to inhumane as he continues with that pace. “So fucking good.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Eventually, Wonwoo doesn’t seem to be able to go slow anymore, thrusts turning sharper and harder, his pace unrelenting. You find yourself almost screaming through it, so overwhelmed by the size of him — a good overwhelmed, the best overwhelmed —, but the way you feel so full and the exponential pleasure leaves you numb to any other thought.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo, your mind seems to chant, fucked open mercilessly by your boyfriend.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Taking cock like a pro, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Wonwoo says, stops for a second, adjusts his hips, and then slams back right into your sweet spot, like he knows where it is by heart. Your body lurches forward, bed slamming against the wall. Hands reaching to hold onto something, you scramble against the sheats until one of them fists it and the other holds the pillow for dear life. “You’re gonna wake the whole hall, screaming like that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You have enough of a decency to feel ashamed about it, but it’s not like neither of you actually care. If anything, Wonwoo fucks you harder, hips jamming inside you until your throat hurts from all the noises you’re making.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Please, p-please— I wanna— I h-have to— Fuck, ah!” you’re not even sure about what you’re begging for, Wonwoo pulling your hips to meet his thrusts half way. You love this, feeling like a ragdoll, being thrown around and only able to take what he gives to you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Good little girl,” Wonwoo croons, his voice rough. Your skin glistens with sweat, the shimmering red light reflecting on it. “Looking so beautiful taking my cock.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re not sure what compels you after he says that but you reach down, hand smoothing down your abdomen because you feel like Wonwoo is spearing you open. But you go completely tense, squeezing Wonwoo so hard he stutters with a moan, because under your palm there is the outline of his cock protruding against your lower belly. The feeling makes you so overwhelmed that you can’t hold it in, whithe pleasure flooding you as you end up coming, eyes rolling to the back of your head and you’re crying all the way through it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re coming?” Wonwoo deadpans, sounding surprised and angry at the same time. “Holy shit, you’re coming untouched and without my permission? What were you think—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s complaint immediately dies down when you bring a trembling hand to grab his wrist and put his fingers in the cause of your orgasm. There’s a beat of silence, the both of you completely still, and then Wonwoo is growling the most animalistic growl you ever heard him do, the sheer intensity of it rocking all the way to your bones. He presses his hips so tightly into yours it has you sobbing.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck,” it’s all he says, tone two octaves lower and sounding dangerous, doesn’t even have it in him to punish you. “Fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It’s like the caged beast he keeps so carefully locked deep within himself started to surface. Wonwoo pushes your head down on the mattress, the other hand still on your belly. He pulls out until the tip and then slams back inside, as hard as he can, and you downright scream at the feeling, the oversensitiviness adding up to your pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s another few seconds of silence, and then Wonwoo is fucking you brutally. His moans echo through the room, so completely desperate that it has you wailing, sobbing, crying desperate pleas for more.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Look at that,” Wonwoo says, hand pressing harder against the bulge in your stomach. “Pushed my big cock into you until your insides were forced to make room for it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He grabs your arm and yanks you up, your back pressing against his chest and an arm circling around your waist. The other comes up to squeeze your left breast as you practically sit on his thighs. You moan at the feeling of his pierced nipple dragging against your skin every time he fucks up into you, your body only held in place because of the firm grip Wonwoo has on you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Sobbing, you feel like you’re losing yourself in the sensations, Wonwoo’s cock pounding into your cunt and his voice by your ear and the burn of his hips hitting your ass — by now it must be all red, the marks probably going to linger for some time. You can’t hold yourself together anymore, mouth open and drooling, tears clinging to your lashes, staccato moans falling from your lips that break on every thrust. You’re limp against Wonwoo, can’t even fuck back, letting him have his way with you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Drooling all over yourself for my cock,” Wonwoo says, fucks in deep against your sweet spot and mouths at the side of your neck. “Because of me, right? Tell me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-you— yours, yours, please,” your head falls back on his shoulder, hand pressing tightly in the shape of his cock in your stomach, and at this point you don’t even know what you’re doing anymore.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’ve broken you in, fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And he did, really. He has broken you in, has you crying on his cock.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You belong to who?” Wonwoo pressed his hips flush on your ass, grinds hard enough for your body to be sent forward. A short few seconds so you can take a breath — or at least try to. “Hm? Who’s fucking you this good?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Wonwoo, Wonwon, you, please,” you cry out as he starts to fuck you mercilessly again, the brutal pace punching moans out of you. “Ah, ah, ah, p-please, haaah, I’m y-yours— yours, b-belong to, hmmm, to you only, please!”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah,” Wonwoo echoes, thrusts turning erratic and groans morphing into moans. “Mine.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I can’t — I’m g-gonna—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Come for me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And it’s enough for you. Your muscles tense, toes curling as hot, white pleasure surges through your body and floods you until you fall limp on the bed, hips only up because Wonwoo is holding them tightly. You clench around his cock involuntarily, his groan muffled by your hair and he’s coming, Wonwoo’s cock twitching inside you as thick spurts of come fill you to the brim. They seem to be endless, his spunk filling you up until it’s dripping out and down your thighs.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You don’t remember much of what happens later. Your mind spins and then you fall into a most needed slumber.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You wake up a bit disoriented, having no idea how much has passed since you fell asleep, but you realise you’re all cleaned up and dressed, head resting in Wonwoo’s — thankfully, for the sake of your precious pussy — clothed chest as he uses his cellphone. He smells clean too, hair still a little bit wet, and you smile thinking that the shower you both took before going to bed was useless.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re up?” comes Wonwoo’s question when he feels your lips moving against him, placing his phone somewhere on the bed and circling his arms around you. You move your head, looking up at him with fondness.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hey, baby,” you breathe out, reaching to peck him in the lips once. He smiles, that kind of smile that leaves you breathless with love.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hey, my love,” Wonwoo laughs when you blush at the pet name. It’s so sweet and endearing, you always feel warm whenever he says it. “I see you still get all red when I call you that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up,” you swat at his arm, Wonwoo’s following laugh sounding like the best music you ever heard. “How much did I sleep?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Not much,” he presses you tighter against him. “I think one hour? Something like that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Thanks for taking care of me,” you say, legs tangling with his and the smile never leaving your lips.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Of course, my love. Always will take care of you,” Wonwoo nuzzles your hair and inhales. “Got kind of surprised that I managed to fuck you into unconsciousness.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” you mortify with a laugh, hitting his chest, but he only giggles at you. He giggles. Your heart might explode soon.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“What? Can’t I be happy that I pleasured my tiny girlfriend the way she deserves to?” Wonwoo says, and it sounds like a joke, but when you look up at him again to make a retort, the reverence in his eyes surrenders you speechless.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He stares at you with so much admiration and love, like you’re the most beautiful thing ever.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” you say instead, cheeks hurting from the way you’re smiling, and Wonwoo seems to be caught off guard because he’s blushing. Wonwoo’s blushing. He’s so cute you want to die.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up and go back to sleep,” he coughs, pushing your head against his chest and you laugh at this shyness. “I love you too.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Yes. The warmness of his hands, the beat of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, the love in his eyes, the sweetness of his words — you missed everything about Jeon Wonwoo.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

[avintagekiss24]

one cup sugar, one cup spice | a. barber

→ pairing: andy barber x black!reader

→ word count: 7074

→ warnings: age gap, corruption kink, innocent reader, daddy kink, pain kink, smut, sex, loss of virginity, vaginal fingering, hand job (male receiving)

→ author note: happy holidays my dudes! what i would do to have andy barber standing in my kitchen... anyway, reader is i n n o c e n t, but totally of age, and in college. as always, line breaks by @firefly-graphics​, gif by @evansensations​

There’s a light dust of white covering the green lawns and black asphalt of the street. You shiver as you follow your parents out towards their car, pulling your beanie down over your ears before you shove your hands into your navy blue Dartmouth hoodie.

“Honey,” your mom coos, turning back towards you as your dad loads the car, “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? Your aunt has plenty of room.”

“I’m positive,” you laugh, “Aunt Sohpie and I don’t get along that great anyway.”

“Well, you could try a little harder.”

Your mouth drops open, eyes wide as you stare at her, “She called me a stuck up, yuppie bitch when I told her I wasn’t going to stop using deodorant.”

Your dad chuckles, prompting a swift slap to the shoulder from your mother before she turns back towards you, “Sophie is a free spirit. She doesn’t believe in putting chemicals in or on her body. One week of trying to get along won’t hurt you.”

“Oh, it’ll hurt,” you answer, pulling her into a hug, “Smelling her B.O. for a week would actually kill me.”

Your mother tuts, pulling back and slumping her shoulders a little as she squeezes your sides gently, “I don’t want to leave you here alone for Christmas.”

“Oh, stop badgering the girl. She’ll be fine,” your dad cuts in, kissing your forehead when he approaches, “She had a tough semester, she’s allowed some alone time. Be good, baby. I left a credit card on my desk for any emergencies.”

You smile warmly, “Thanks daddy.”

There’s a sound of a door opening, then closing, heavy footsteps against the old wood of the porch next door, “Oh, Andy,” your mom calls towards the neighbor, “You got a minute?”

Your face scrunches as you glance over at your father, who sighs heavy, “Don’t get mad, baby.”

“Why would I get mad?”

“She kinda, you know,” he shrugs, knocking his head back and forth, “Asked the neighbor to look in on you while we’re gone,” when your face drops, he throws up his hands, “I didn’t do it, she did.”

“Mom!” You hiss, flipping your eyes to the tall, dark haired man cutting across his front lawn, “I don’t need a babysitter! I’m twenty years old!”

“Hush,” she whispers, plastering a smile on her face as she wraps her arm around your waist, “Sorry to bother you, Andy.”

“Oh, no, no, no. It’s okay, I was just checking the mail.”

You’re angry and embarrassed as the tall, older man approaches, but a sudden heat blooms across your chilled brown skin. Pushing your glasses up your nose, you take a heavy breath, expelling it hard as you eye him. You’ve only really seen him in passing, throwing your hand up in a friendly wave as you jogged into your childhood home during a long weekend away from school. You only vaguely remember him moving in about a year or two before. Hell, you don’t even think the two of you have uttered anything more than just a neighborly ‘hey’, and now, thanks to your mother, he’s going to be keeping an eye on you.

Just wonderful.

She smiles proudly, “You remember our daughter, right?”

“I do,” he smiles slowly, an intense pair of blue-green eyes bouncing between yours, “We’ve run into each other a few times over the years. How you doin’ kiddo?”

He reaches out, extending a large palm and long fingers. You take it gently, smiling soft as you drop your eyes from his, nerves suddenly pooling in your stomach, “Um, good. Thanks for asking. How um,” you swallow, glancing back up at him, finding his eyes still centered on you, “How are you?”

He shrugs, but keeps your much smaller hand in his, “Can’t complain.”

“Listen, honey,” your mom starts, “I asked Mr. Barber to pop over and check on you every now and again while we’re gone.”

“Mother,” fake laughter filling the air, your face hot from being annoyed to all hell, “I’m not a child, and I’m sure Mr. Barber has better things to do with his time than to check on me constantly.”

“It’s no problem,” he shrugs again, those eyes of his now roaming, down your body, then up again, slowly, “I have the next couple of weeks off myself.”

“Congrats on the promotion, by the way.” Your father smiles, finally drawing Andy’s attention away from you. He nudges your side with his elbow, “Andy’s the new District Attorney.”

You keep your eyes on the tall Andy, sliding them the length of his body. He’s sturdy. Broad shoulders not so hidden underneath his zip up hoodie, clinging to thick biceps. Dark jeans accentuate long legs and a little waist. A perfect, full beard lines his strong jaw and chin. Two enormous hands are shoved into the pockets of his pants, so large that they don’t even fit right… You inhale deep, drawing your bottom lip into your mouth, sinking your teeth into the flesh as a tiny moan slips through.

Blue eyes snap to you again as it sounds. God. Your lips part, eyes widen as they stare back at him in embarrassment. He just smiles again, slow and seemingly knowing; his eyes falling down your frame again.

“We better go if we’re gonna miss traffic, hun.” Your dad’s voice suddenly breaks into your conscience, snapping you out of the small trance that Andy Barber has leveled over you, “Andy, thanks for watching over our baby while we’re gone.”

Andy winks at you, “I won’t hover, I promise. If you need anything, at any time, I’m right next door, okay? Better yet, let me give you my number.”

You nod quick, clearing your throat as you fumble around with your phone, pulling it out of your hoodie and handing it over to him, “Sure, yeah. Th-thank you, Mr. Barber.”

“Andy,” he corrects, reaching out and cupping your elbow gently, “Please.”

Another warmth spreads through you, emanating from the contact, making you giggle and smile nervously like a stupid girl before you get a hold of yourself and blink away. You all exchange another round of pleasantries, Andy wishing your parents a safe trip before he locks eyes with you again— biting his lip as he blinks and hands your phone back before turning away and heading towards his mailbox.

Almost frozen in place, you blink as you watch him move across his grass, forcefully swallowing. You really need to get out more.

One last hug from your mom and dad and you wave as they pull out of the driveway, your mom waving excitedly at you through the windshield. Rolling your eyes, but smiling wide, you return a wave before heading back inside, locking the door behind you before making a brisk b-line to the front door.

Andy’s still outside, pushing the green trash cans up against his garage as you peek out at him from behind the thin, white, door curtains. He throws open one of the lids before dipping his head, eyeing the mail in his hand as he flips through it slowly, tossing the junk into the open can. A pink blush piques on his cheeks and the tip of his nose, lips red with the chill. He looks up suddenly— out of nowhere— and cocks his head, letting another smile curl onto his lips when the two of you make eye contact again.

You gasp and jump back, instantly turning on your heel to run up the stairs towards your bedroom, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The smell of fresh baked cookies fills the house as you pull a pan from the oven. You hum in satisfaction, a small smile on your face as you scoop the sugar cookies onto the cooling rack before pulling your mom’s Santa Claus mittens off your hands and tossing them to the counter. Last Christmas by Wham plays from the small bluetooth speaker in the corner of the kitchen, A Charlie Brown Christmas on mute playing from the ipad leaning against the utensil holder.

There’s a random crackling from the fire you started in the living room as you move around, a whir from the mixer as it beats the eggs, powdered sugar, vanilla extract, and corn syrup together. You dip your finger into the mixture, popping it into your mouth and groaning as the sweetness explodes on your tongue before you pull the beaters out, slipping your finger down the stainless steel to collect the icing still stuck to them.

A knock sounds from the front door, permeating through the rather quiet house. You lean to the side, blinking at the door as a shadow shifts through the windows on either side. Shoving the icing laden finger into your mouth, you jog towards the door, bare feet heavy against the wood floor.

“One second, one second,” you mumble, wiping your hands on your pale pink cotton shorts before you tug at your hoodie and unlock the door. A sharp inhale of cold air fills your chest when you pull open the door to find one Andy fucking Barber standing on the opposite side, “Oh,” is all you can manage.

“Hey,” he smiles, “It’s been a few days, just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Being a biomedical engineering student, you can rattle off some of the most difficult, obscure words known to man with exactly zero problems. When it comes to social interaction with the hot, forty-something, lawyer next door? Your tongue is heavy, your brain… dumb.

His smile widens as you blink like a moron, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead as he waits for you to talk. Here’s the part where you speak, dumbass! “Um,” you stutter, “Sorry, I, uh, yeah, I’m okay. I’m good, sorry.”

“Smells good in here.”

Nodding, you bite your lip, your eyes everywhere but on his face— his stare just too much, “I’m making cookies.” you glance over your shoulder before you point, “Do you want to make some? I mean,” you slam your eyes closed, “Do you want to try some? Not, some, one, do you— do you want to try one? Or some… I guess… whatever.”

Idiot. You’re a bumbling, stumbling, idiot.

He chuckles, the rumble low and deep as he runs one of those big ass hands through his dark, soft looking hair, “That is the best offer I’ve had all day.”

He steps over the threshold, his fingers brushing over yours as he reaches to close the door. You snatch your hand from it quickly, wringing it within the other as you turn awkwardly and move towards the kitchen, swallowing hard, suddenly hyper aware of how bare your legs are.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” Andy starts from behind you, “I’m surprised to find you here and not out with some friends.”

You move behind the marble topped island in the center of the kitchen as Andy walks around the opposite side. His eyes are on you again, staring as you fumble with the spatula, your fingers going as dumb as your brain, dropping it with a loud clang. You don’t even know why— okay, you know why, but this is something deeper, something you haven’t experienced before.

“Oh,” you shrug, “No, I uh, I just kinda like to stay around the house.”

He nods slowly, “A homebody, huh? Me too.”

He makes you dizzy; his masculinity is intimidating. It fills up every little space in the room. His intelligence— worldly, experienced—  oozes from him. He looks like you could ask him anything, anything, and he’d have the right answer for you. He could teach you a thing or two, that’s for sure.

A shudder creeps through your body, heat blooming across your skin, having to shift on your feet as your stomach flutters while you focus on icing this stupid cookie. The physical space he takes up unnerves you too. That wide, towering frame looming over you. Deft, thick fingers tapping gently against the countertop as you stumble around, your hands shaky.

There’s a stickiness. A warm, little wet spot in the center of your panties as stupid thoughts run through your stupid brain. You’re being ridiculous. Like this grown man would be interested in an inexperienced, socially awkward, in bed by eight thirty, little girl. Get a grip.

You slather some icing over the warm cookie and cautiously hand it towards him, clearing your throat and forcing a smile. Wringing your hands again, you find a little courage to lift your eyes just as he pops the small cookie into his mouth, closing his eyes as he chews slowly, a grunt sounding from deep in his throat.

Every muscle in your body clenches at the sound. It’s gorgeous— and if there’s anything your body appreciates, it’s a gorgeous man with a gorgeous grunt.

“It’s okay?” You squeak, timid and small before you nervously clear your throat.

“Shit, girl,” he moans again, licking his lips as he extends his hand again, “I could eat every single one of these.”

Nervous fingers clutch another cookie, adding a dollop of icing before you hand it over to him, eyes drifting up his chest and to his face as he devours the second treat. Your curious eyes watch with a longing. Pretty, thick, dark eyelashes closing again, splashing across smooth, slightly reddened cheeks. A pink tongue darts out of a wet mouth to slip along an inviting— too inviting— bottom lip, and you zero in on it. Chest rising and falling a little harder as you blink, in your own little world as you imagine just how much experience those lips, that tongue has.

There’s a hint of blue suddenly, his eyes no longer closed, now set squarely on you as those sickenly perfect white teeth emerge with another sly smile.

Another wave of embarrassment pushes through your veins, but you can’t look away from him this time. Locked in a heated stare, mind racing, palms sweaty as you watch Andy dip his index finger into the bowl of icing, scooping the sugary mix onto the pad of his digit.

“You like watching me, huh?”

Your mouth parts to answer, but nothing comes out, mouth and throat suddenly dry. He laughs at you, standing there, dumb and nervous, unable to form a coherent sentence as he pushes the tip of his finger into his mouth, sucking the icing from it slowly.

He’s moving, that much your brain can comprehend. Moving around the island, sliding the bowl of icing right to the edge where he dips his finger again, curling it to collect another glob.

Shallow, shaky breaths escape the small part in your lips, your chest and stomach so tight you’re surprised you can breathe at all. As it is, you have to rest your palm against the marble island, just to keep from falling over.

A long arm slips around your waist, nudging you forward— closer— so close that when one of those shallow, little breaths pushes out, your chest, well, your tits, brush against his. You picked a fine day to go without a bra. He drops his free hand to your waist, pushing it underneath your oversized hoodie to feel your skin as he wraps those long fingers around your hip, giving it a squeeze before he cups your chin.

“You have a boyfriend back at that fancy ass school?” He asks, eyes hooded as he tilts your head upward.

A hum vibrates through your chest before there’s a quick shake of your head as he pushes the icing over your bottom lip, smearing the sugary mix along it. He keeps your chin anchored in his hand as he stares down at you through slits, his own mouth dropping open as he coaxes yours.

“No, a smart girl like you doesn’t have time for boys, does she?” He purrs, “You probably haven’t even been touched by a boy.”

A squeak chokes in your throat as he teases you, pushing that finger back and forth, the tip pushing ever so gently into your mouth. He chuckles again, real low, menacing almost as he knows he has you right where he wants you.

“Ya know,” he starts, thumbs stroking your chin and jaw, “This Christmas cookie frosting would taste a hundred times better on you than my finger.” He smiles again, tilting his head, “Can I see?”

You mewl, pitiful and small as emotion pools in your eyes. You’re overwhelmed— nervous and unsure, wanting to be perfect. Womanly— but surely falling flat.

“Oh, baby,” he laughs, sweeping his thumbs underneath your eyes to catch the hot streaks, “Awww, it’s okay.”

Andy pushes in close, his lips brushing yours as he nuzzles his nose into the crook of yours, a low sound thrumming in his throat. He presses his cheek against your face, the soft hair of his beard pushing along your skin, goosebumps popping up all over. Your bodies start to sway in a slow rhythm, side to side, his warm breath washing over you as he smiles.

He pulls away, eyes traveling your face, “You haven’t even been kissed before?” When you don’t answer, he closes his eyes, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, “No? Oh, my sweet girl. That is just,” he groans, eyes twinkling with an emotion you don’t even understand, “You are so perfect— so good.”

His forehead comes to rest on yours, his hands still corralling your face, fingers sticky. His tongue darts out quick, licking at your lips, dragging up to the tip of your nose. You shudder, bleating as the rough velvet passes over your mouth.

Andy moans again, sucking the icing into his mouth and swallows slow, “Yum.”

You’re jittery— clammy, as labored breaths push out of your mouth, a murky fog clouding your brain. Shaky whirs tremble through your chest as you shift on your feet, your panties sticking to your now throbbing pussy. Andy closes the distance between your mouths again, his eyes hooded as he nips at you.

Your eyes flutter, closing instinctively— waiting for the claim. It doesn’t come, not right away, making your eyes pop open, a childish whine squeaking out. You even stomp your foot a little. Twenty years is a long enough wait.

“Kiss me,” you breathe, not wasting a second, “Please, Andy—”

The words are barely out of your mouth before he grabs your lips, inhaling deep. His tongue fucks into your mouth, slipping along the roof before massaging yours, sucking lightly. You go limp against him, trying to keep up with the fervent kiss, but soon just let him take full control.

Andy pushes his hips into yours, pressing his hard cock against you, forcing you to break the kiss, gasping deep. He rests his forehead on yours again, tittering as he bites his bottom lip, “Never felt that before, huh? Mmmm,” he groans again, “I bet you feel good. So tight and warm— umph, I’m probably not even going to be able to fit my cock all in.”

You shudder at the thought.

He brushes the tip of his nose against yours, “I gotta open you up a bit, don’t I? Hmm? This sweet little cunt needs to get used to being stuffed full.” He turns you in his hands, presses his burly chest into your back, his lips to your ear, “I want you to finish icing these cookies like a good girl, okay? You do as daddy says.”

You don’t move, you can’t really, as you try to comprehend what’s going on. It takes Andy pushing his crotch into your ass, grinding your hips against the island and literally grabbing your wrists, making your hands grab the butter knife and a cookie before your brain catches up. With shaky fingers, you push the knife through the icing and slather it on one of the small, round, golden brown cookies.

“Good girl,” he praises, pecking your cheek, nuzzling into the side of your face, “Daddy wants you to focus.”

He drags his warm palms up your forearms, stroking gently before they fall to your sides. They push up into your hoodie, fingertips glancing across sensitive, untouched skin. Small laughter vibrates through his chest as you jump and gasp, huffing and keening as he explores.

Little kisses are pressed to your temple and side of your face as his hands venture up your sides, curling around your rib cage until he’s grasping your bare tits in both hands, squeezing and kneading— hissing as he grinds his rigidly hard cock into your ass.

You freeze, body going stiff as nimble fingers play with your thick, piqued nipples. Warm lips nip at your neck as you push back into his hips, wiggling slowly, the thin cotton of your shorts not proving to be much of a barrier at all.

Andy reaches around, plucking the cookie out of your hand and pops it into his mouth just as his free hand skips down your stomach— right into your shorts. You jut your hips forward as his fingers plunge through your folds, massaging your clit slowly as he murmurs in your ear.

“That’s what I love about virgins. The slightest little touch gets you all worked up.” He pulls his hand from your shorts, holding it out for you to see your slick coating his fingers— a string connecting from his index finger to the middle. He brings his wet fingers to your lips, steel eyes peering at you as he waits, “Clean ‘em up.”

He slides his free hand back into your sweatshirt, pushing it up over your tits before he tweaks your left nipple, rolling it slow as he pushes the tips of his fingers into your mouth. Sweet, tiny little whines sound from you as you accept his long fingers into your mouth, starting to suck gently, the taste of your arousal exploding on your tongue.

“That’s right, just like that baby.” He reassures, slipping a hand back into your panties.

Your mouth goes slack around his fingers as he toys with you, rubbing your achy clit as your hips start to move with his rhythm. Resting your weight against his sturdy body, you moan loud, pushing out hard breaths, eyes slipping closed, head rolling on his shoulder as his wet fingers slip from your mouth back to your left nipple.

His fingers start to tease your slit, pushing gently, slowly, until… a sharp yelp fills the kitchen as two fingers stuff you full. Andy wraps his arm around your waist, holding you to him, cooing in your ear as he continues to push in, “You’re okay baby. I know, I know sweet girl, we’re almost there. Just a bit more.”

Tears sting your eyes as your face strains from the pressure and pain of being spread for the first time. Once his fingers have disappeared, the heel of his palm pressing against your folds and clit, he pulls your chin towards him and licks at your mouth, sucking air in between his teeth.

“I can’t wait to fuck this sweet pussy,” he kisses you quick and hard, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth before he releases you with a loud smack, “I love a virgin cunt. It’s been a while since I’ve had one.”

You squeak when his fingers start to move, slow, deep, a squelch sounding as his fingers push into your muscles. It hurts, but there’s a twinge of good, something inside of you being pleasured once you push past the pain. The sweet taste of pleasure doesn’t stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks as his fingers pick up a brisk pace.

Andy growls in your ear, the sound scratching at the back of his throat, kind of hollow and breathy as he grinds his cock into your ass, “You havent fucked yourself like this before? I didn’t think I’d hurt you this bad with just my fingers, baby.”

A hot, rough wetness slides along your cheek, his tongue, lapping at you. You grab onto his forearm, feeling his muscles tense and flex as he fingers your innocence, digging your nails into the thick Shetland wool sweater covering his torso. He pushes deep, suddenly, making you cry out again.

He grunts, snaking his hand up into your hoodie to take a firm hold of your tit. Resting his forehead to the back of your head, he quickens his fingers, his hot breath on the back of your neck, quick swipes of his tongue and lips against your hypersensitive skin— making the miniscule hairs on your body stand on end.

His palm presses against your clit with each shove of his fingers. Strapping, hard chest flattened to your back, loud, husky moans in your ear. His hips roll and push, writhe into yours as his fingers start to thrash. Teeth sink into your shoulder, his tongue sliding and sweeping.

“Andy—” you cry, whimpering like a child, “It hurts. I— I can’t,”

“Oh, sweetheart.” His fingers slow and then stop, pulling out of you to rub your clit, soothing the balmy flesh. He turns you around in his arms as you cry, lifting you right from your feet, “I’m sorry. Shh, shh, I’m sorry, baby.”

The instant warmth of his mammoth chest and arms soothe the tumultuous pangs of anxiety coursing through you. Nuzzling in, the softness of his beard helps ease your nerves as you wrap two jelly arms around his neck. Andy’s big hands push up and down your back as he murmurs sweet nothings. Stomach tight, heart fluttering, face hot and wet with tears— you’re properly overwhelmed and overstimulated, and Andy could just eat it all up.

“You are so pretty when you cry, you know that? You did so good, baby. You took my fingers so well.”

You huff, disappointed, pushing your face deeper into his neck, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, don’t do that,” he whispers, “It’s okay to not be ready.” He sits you back on your feet, pulling and adjusting your sweatshirt back over your chest. He pecks your lips quick before cupping your face in his hands, “It’s gonna make our first time together so much better.”

He pushes in to kiss you again, but stops, just as his lips brush yours. You get up on your tiptoes, wanting to meet his mouth but he’s quick, pulling away and stealing another cookie as he takes a step back.

“Thanks for the cookies, sweetheart.”

And just like that, with a wink and a smile, he’s moving out of the kitchen, the front door slamming behind him.

It might as well be the middle of a Texas summer heatwave in your bedroom. Exasperated, you throw the covers away from your body, skin slick with sweat as you wipe at your forehead. You’ve been like this all day— hot and irritated, stomach and mind jumbled, unable to focus on much of anything but thoughts of depravity. Pissed off at yourself more than anything; that you couldn’t take it all.

You sit up in the dark room, a sliver of moonlight spilling in from behind the thin curtains over your window. Snow flakes float down from the sky, glimmering, basking in the soft, natural light of the moon. Thoughts of Andy return. Reddened, full lips on your face, his soft, velvety, pink tongue forging its own path in the uncharted territory that is your mouth. His hands, big and warm, pinching and grabbing, pushing in deep.

Every muscle in your body clenches; achy cunt squeezing around nothing.

A soft light illuminates from the nightstand, followed by a buzz, a random alert from your twitter. But then, oh but then— Andy’s words come floating back to you. Better yet, let me give you my number. The sleek iphone is in your hand within seconds, fingers sliding over the keyboard, shooting off a text.

You 1:15am

You up?

Andy B. 1:17am

What’s a smart girl like you doing up so late on Christmas Eve?

An influx of air fills your lungs as your heart leaps.

You 1:17am

I can’t sleep…

Andy B. 1:18am

Want me to help with that?

You won’t be getting much sleep tho…

You 1:18am

That’s what I’m hoping…

Andy B. 1:19am

LOL, okay smarty pants, come wait for Santa with me, front door’s open

You’re already halfway down the stairs by the time his invite slides across the screen. You shove your feet into your Ugg boots at the bottom of the staircase and grab your jacket from the coat rack, pushing into it as you throw open the front door. Crossing your arms over your chest, you jog down the steps of the porch and start for Andy’s, an instant chill rattling right down to your bones.

Footprints in the snow follow you as you cross the lawn, a light crunch sounding underneath your feet, adding to the whoosh of a breeze that rips through the sleepy street. Once you’re on Andy’s porch, you reach for the door, pushing through the threshold and closing it softly with a click.

The house is dark, and quiet, a tiny point of light coming from the kitchen and the random ticks of a clock somewhere deep. Your jacket hits the floor, ugg boots thump against the wall as you kick them off, hand slides along the banister as you climb the stairs slow. Wide eyes adjust to the dark as you pad slowly down the long hall, passing by one closed door, and then another until you reach one that’s slightly ajar. Light spills out of it, splashing over your bare toes as you step right up to it, fingertips pushing against the door.

You find Andy propped up against his headboard, chest bare, legs spread— hard, pink cock sticking out of his boxers, gripped tight in his hand. He flips his eyes to yours as he strokes himself slow, pushing his hips into it, groaning at the sight of you.

The air in your body— the room— is sucked right out as you lock eyes. With a blink, your greedy eyes are on the move, down his hair smattered chest and chiseled stomach, over the dark blue boxer briefs, down his meaty thighs and toned calves, right to his curled toes and back up again.

You have to bite your lip to keep quiet.

“I’ve been,” the words out of his mouth come to a halt being replaced by a low grunt as he squeezes his cock, precum dribbling out of his slit, “Shit sweetheart, I’ve been thinking about you all day. Haven’t been able to cum since you left me all worked up.”

You bleat softly, blinking wild and nervous as you watch his hand slide up and down, palm and fingers sweeping over his mushroom head to collect the droplets of his arousal to push it down his shaft.

“Well, come on. Come touch me.”

It’s a good thing your feet aren’t as stupid as your brain, or else you’d still be standing in place. Before you can get your mind to catch up, you're pulling yourself towards the edge of the bed, falling forward, catching yourself with your hands. Crawling between his legs, your tank top hangs low, Andy’s eyes peering down your cleavage before you sit on your knees— hands trembling.

He reaches for you, grabbing your wrist gently, pulling your hand towards his towering cock. Guiding you slow, he wraps your hand around him, his hips jerking soft at the warmth of your palm and pushes your hand down to his base, before dragging it up to the tip. He helps you for a few more strokes, twisting your hand around him, guiding your fingers up over his cock head and then back down, squeezing your hand to apply a gentle pressure.

“That’s right, baby—ah—” he hisses, jutting his hips up into your hand, “Shit.”

You continue to pump him after his hand falls away, relishing in the small noises that sound from him— sending your heart soaring. His hips pulse into your hand, eyes fluttering as more cum bubbles out, slipping and sliding over your fingers. Andy reaches for the lamp on the nightstand, turning it out, covering the room in darkness except for the moon.

He’s beautiful like this. Chest tight and shuddering with each breath, dark eyelashes splayed over fair skin, a chorus of sweet, small little whines and praise pouring from him. A soft pink blush unfurling over his broad chest, creeping up his neck.

“Fuck baby,” breathless and strained, “You’re a fuckin’ pro already. My smart little girl.” You suck your bottom lip into your mouth but still can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners, “Oh, you like that?” Andy smiles lazily, “You like being my smart little girl?”

Hot lips are on yours before you can even form your mouth to answer. Flipped onto your back, strong hips digging into yours, his cock pushing against your covered clit and slit as he kisses you hard. It takes your breath away.

You’d always thought you’d be awkward, stiff and unknowing, once you finally reached this moment— nothing but teeth and elbows and knees in all the wrong places— but, there’s a natural instinct coming into play. You’re lost, but somehow intricately aware. Fingers creep up his biceps and curl around his shoulder blades, digging in as your hips push back into his. Mouth leans into the feverish kisses, tongue sliding with his.

Colossal hands push into your shorts, pushing them down before his feet knock them off the rest of the way. Your top is rucked up, up over your breasts, exposing more brown skin, two soft, jiggling mounds, two piqued nipples soon sucked into a warm, wet mouth. A long middle finger toys with your clit, rubbing circles before more fingers join, slipping through slick and skin as they play.

“Tell me,” hot, whispered words sting in your ear, “Tell me you like being my smart girl.”

Hips dig into yours once more, hard cock pushing against your sensitive nub, then pressing at your opening. You grab the back of his neck, moaning hard and loud as electricity bounces through your veins, “Andy—” you squeak, “I like—”

A sharp cry breaks through the words as Andy pushes hard, spearing you for the very first time. Pressure and pain courses through you, body going tight and stiff as he sinks deeper and deeper, large palms on your cheeks, forehead to yours, warm breaths and ragged, choked grunts washing over your face.

Hard kisses— one, two, three— on your lips as he holds your face, his eyes closed, mouth hanging as he sinks, sinks, sinks until you’ve taken him all. Your head is empty. Devoid of any real, coherent thoughts, unable to focus on any one thing; well, nothing other than the fullness.

“Tell me you like being my smart girl.” Andy rasps, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to keep himself together. He shifts, hips pulling away from yours, cock dragging out, “Come on baby, tell me you like it.”

Andy pushes his hips, pushes back into you, but real gentle and smooth, knowing you’re teetering— overwhelmed in more ways than one, a feeling that can turn south on a dime. So, he keeps his hands on your face, thumbs rubbing soft circles. He opens his eyes, giving you something to focus on as he moves gently— so, so gently. Keeping you present.

“Use those words, sweet girl. Talk to me.”

Water fills your eyes as you grip, nails biting into the meat of his sides as he fucks you slow and sweet. Heat burns through you, tiny sounds, choked sobs scratch at the back of your throat, but it’s good— feels so good. Your legs push up and around his waist, hands start to snake up his sinewy back, feeling the muscles flex and tighten as he makes you a woman— makes you his.

Safe. Warm. Cocooned between his heavy body and the light mattress. Hips rolling, pushing and pulling. Hot breath over hot skin. Quick, jumbled words, thick and ripe with a heady lust. You like being his smart girl. Gripping fingers, around your face, your wrists, your tits, hips, thighs, ankles— everywhere you could possibly imagine.

Andy flips you over suddenly, his back now pressed into the mattress as you lay on top of him. He positions you right where he wants you— sitting you up straight, positioning your hands against his brawny chest. He encases your waist with those massive hands, squeezing tight before the pads of his fingers drag along your thighs as you wiggle, getting used to the new position.

“Push up— that’s right, sweetheart,” he sighs softly as you follow his direction, “Now sit back down— slowly, baby, go slow.” His head falls back on the pillows as he exhales, a groan trembling through his chest, “God, yeah babe. Good girl. Up and down, up and down.”

Your fingers push through the tuft of soft, dark hair covering his chest as you ride him, lifting and sitting, rolling and bucking as you get a hang of it— catch a feel— your clit rubbing against his taut skin. You feel Andy trying to keep his composure, feel him trying to restrain himself, his hips. Watch his eyes flutter and close as his mouth goes slack again as he pushes up into you, meeting your increasingly greedy thrusts downward.

“I’m your smart girl,” you whisper, heart beating hard and fast in your chest as your confidence grows, “I’ve always wanted to be your smart girl.”

He jams up into you, much harder than anything you’ve felt so far.

A sharp yelp cracks into the silence and he grabs your wrists, runs his hands up your arms, before he cups your face, “Shhh, shhh, shhh, I’m sorry baby. I didn’t know it was gonna sound so sweet,” he laughs, “God, I fucking love hearing you say that.”

He drops a hand back to your chest, grabbing a handful of your tit, toying with your nipple, pinching and pulling. His other hand wraps around your hip again, helping to pull you forward, as he thrusts soft. You don’t move; you just let him fuck up into you, grab his hands and thread your fingers with his as you bounce.

Thrusts get faster; hips hurried, jabbing. Wet rasps fill the room, octaves soaring. You fall forward a little, unclasping his hands to catch yourself against his chest. Andy’s hands are back around your waist and hips as you fuck down onto him, chasing that little, dull ache in the pit of your stomach that grows with each push of his hips.

Andy has two full handfuls of your ass, growling loud, hips faltering— losing control as he forces you down on him. You take each hard thrust, tears spilling down your cheeks, pleasure and pain all wrapped up into one. Sweat and heat crawls along your skin, stomach goes tight, throat dries. You dig your fingers into his chest as your toes curl, whimpering and crying out, choking as the pressure builds.

You tighten— freeze quick, gasp hard as a white hot orgasm floods your veins, like a molten lava, oozing, spreading. Flattening yourself to Andy’s chest, you let him wrap his arms around your back and hold you tight as he fucks you through it. The meat of his thighs slapping against yours, your cunt sounding wet and filthy, squelching and convulsing as you come.

There’s another heat, quick and dense, filling you as Andy’s grunts grow deeper. His grip on your ass tightens as he spurts— your used cunt coaxing long, hot ribbons of white silk from his sensitive, red cock head. He falls out of you, dick wet and hard, pushing through your ass cheeks as his hips still churn out of habit and inherent instinct.

Hands are on your head, fingers wiping at your face and forehead, pushing hair away. You’re embarrassed— not sure why— and nuzzle into his neck, hiding your face as you tuck your hands into your chest protectively. Another laugh sounds from him, vibrates through you, as he kisses your forehead and rubs his bearded cheek against your face.

“You’re a sweet girl,” honeyed, his voice, smooth and sweet, slow drags of his hands up and down your back lulling you, calming you, suddenly nervous, “My sweet, smart little baby. You okay?” you nod, but it isn’t good enough, “Tell me.”

“I’m okay.” You sniffle, eyelashes clumped, cheeks wet, lips swollen and red.

You nuzzle into him more, taking a deep breath as you listen to his heartbeat. Another silence fills the room, Andy’s breaths soon turn deep, slow and rhythmic, his hands and fingers coming to a slow stop but still splayed out over your back. A quick press of your lips against his neck makes him shift, but doesn’t wake him. You press another on his chin before you settle down into him once more, watching as snow starts to fall again.

There’s a Christmas present sitting at the edge of the bed when you wake the next morning, your name scrawled out on the name tag. You tear into it, pulling out a small white box, the name LELO embossed over the top. Eyebrows firmly furrowed, you turn it over in your hand, mouth falling open as you read the description and eye the two twenty karat gold Ben Wa beads.

Andy appears in the doorway, a steaming cup in his hand, a smile on his face, “Merry Christmas. Santa came for you, huh?”

“Merry Christmas,” you glance away, “I don’t have anything for you.”

“That’s okay,” he shrugs, “I was a bit presumptuous after our little rendezvous in the kitchen— ordered those from Amazon yesterday.” He pads towards you, leaning down to kiss you quick before he hands you the hot mug, “Are you okay?”

A nervous giggle escapes through your lips, your head falling as you cover your mouth with your hand, “Mmhmm.”

Andy tips your head back upwards, pushing his index finger underneath your chin, smiling again before he kisses you all sweet and soft and slow, making you go all stupid and gooey again.

“What are these for?” You ask after he pulls away a few moments later.

His eyes twinkle in the sunlight as he winks, “Training. Now, lay back and spread your legs for daddy, little one.”

[wutheringmights]

Can I be greedy and ask for all of the boys ? And any characters you have strong opinions on? Pretty please? With lots of cherries and chocolate on top? ( for the ask meme ofc)

Anon, I'll finish up all of the boys in the Chain just for you. And trust me, I have an Infinite Amount of Strong Opinions. You have no idea how Opinionated I Am.

If anyone is coming in late to this, here are the boys I have done already and a short summary of my thoughts (click the hyperlinks to get the full Opinion):

Warriors: he's best when he's the trashy anti-Link, and I like him so much

Twilight: kind of boring, but I have a soft spot for him anyway because you never forget your first

Wind: should have been aged up a little so that he can have that identity crisis I'm craving

This... gets long. Really long. 3-hours-of-work-long. Before you read, please note that even when I speak negatively about something, it’s not to diss anyone who does like the thing. I’m not vague posting or being passive aggressive. This is all written in good humor and good faith. 

That being said, let’s a-go!

-Sky-

What I love about them: He has one of the best character arcs of all the Links. I love that he starts off being lazy and kind of a jerk, but grows as a person because he wants to save his friend. And I love that he's truly the most courageous Link. He has no other successful hero of past or legacy to lean back upon to reassure him. He walked into that fight with Demise with no assurance from anyone that he would succeed. Yet, he does it anyway. Because he's a true hero and someone had to be one. And he's rewarded with a curse that he does not initially take seriously. He thinks he's saved everyone, yet he's cursed his spirit, possibly his bloodline, and his entire legacy of the kingdom of Hyrule into a doomed cycle of destruction. All because he dared to face evil incarnate. I love him.

What I hate about them: You know how I called Twilight boring? I should have saved that critique for Sky. LU Sky is actually the most boring interpretation of his character. All of his negative traits? Gone. All of his positives? Also gone. He's the blandest version of himself, and like Twilight, I now feel like I gotta add some spice to him to make him more interesting while still keeping him recognizable. Even so, he's still one of my favorite Links.

Favorite Moment/Quote: When he kicks Twilight's ass at sword fighting. That's stuff is *chef's kiss*

What I would like to see more focus on: You would think that there would be more angst out there about him realizing that he's actually been cursed, but it's still kind of hard to find. He's the Cursed Knight! The beginning of a terrible legacy! Imagine meeting a bunch of heroes for the first time, and instead of being relieved at having someone who understands your experiences, you're filled with horror at realizing that your victory was a false one. You didn't win. Your spirit will never be at rest. Imagine dealing with that realization for the rest of your life. You could never be at peace.

What I would like to see less focus on: I love that he loves his wife, but he's more just the fact that he's married, y'know? I would like to see a little less blind devotion to Hylia and Zelda, and more complicated feelings about being manipulated into being the hero.

Favorite pairing with: Sun/Link/Groose OT3! I have no reasoning behind this other than I like Groose and Groose definitely had a crush on SkSw Link.

Favorite friendship: I won't answer Groose again even if I want to, so I'll say Warriors. I cannot begin to describe how elite this friendship would be if you gave it a chance. They're just two boys dealing with unique positions of leadership and responsibility. They would probably even bond over being shitheads at different ends of the shithead spectrum. It's so good, okay?

NOTP: Ghirahim. I'm not too adverse to this one, but the ship hinges on whether you can redeem Ghirahim or not. In my opinion, Ghirahim is awesome because he's such a fun villain. Redeeming him ruins the fun.

Favorite headcanon: I have a whole life story planned out for Sky. Basically, he lives to be close to 500 years old by the power of the Triforce. He is the Link throughout the Era of Chaos who banishes the Dark Interlopers to the Twilight Realm and seals the Triforce in the Sacred Realm. He actually seals himself in the Sacred Realm as well to keep the Triforce safe, and he fought Ganondorf in when he broke in. Sky, like Time and Wind, does not get a happy ending.

-Four-

What I love about them: Four is origin of the heroes of Hyrule being known for being children. What a legacy to leave behind. He's such an interesting case of an incarnation of the Hero's Spirit, too. He fought Vaati, and he did his job so well that Demise's next incarnation had to be Ganondorf. Four did his job the best out of everyone, and it came at the cost of creating a magic sword that changed him permanently. I like to think that the Four Sword was not meant to split him, that it was a mistake he made with the design. And it's sad, isn't it? You made a defective sword, and like any good sword, it has a symbolic double edge. It gifted you with so much, and yet he can never be the same again. And his story is never well-remembered because it is overshadowed by the Links who fought the King of Evil. He's does so much, yet his legacy is underappreciated.

What I hate about them: I want to prepare you for this Opinion, because I know it's unpopular. Are you ready? Okay. I don't like the Colors. I'm sorry. I want to like them, but they don't interest me at all. Because they are parts of Four’s personality, they have to be one-note archetypes which does not make for exciting storytelling. I also haven't found a fic yet that has been from Four's POV that did the internal monologue of the Colors in a way that wasn't a pain in the ass to read. Maybe if someone can figure out how to do the Colors in a way that doesn't feel like a drag, I would like them more. But in the end, I think Four himself is more interesting than the Colors.

Favorite Moment/Quote: The fact that he didn't want to touch the Master Sword because he doesn't trust magic swords. That is every I need to know about his opinion on his own adventures.

What I would like to see more focus on: I want more of Four as Four. It's getting harder to find content of Four being his own person first and the Colors second.

What I would like to see less focus on: Four being the Colors first and his own person second. There is something about viewing Four as this cover identity for the Colors that doesn't feel right. There's a balance that needs to be strike between his ability to split, how that affects his every day life, and his own identity of being Four. I think I may have read one fic that hit that sweet spot for me, but still.

Favorite pairing with: Shadow. I'm such a sucker for befriending and falling for the enemy. That is all.

Favorite friendship: Dot! Their friendship is super cute. I like the idea of them being super close when they were younger and struggling to keep the friendship going as they age due to how much their paths in life diverge.

NOTP: This isn't necessarily a Four or an LU problem, but people who ship the Colors together? Bro. C'mon.

Favorite headcanon: I'm torn between two different Four and the Master Sword headcanons. On one hand, Four thinking that the Master Sword is just legend until he meets Sky and everyone else is just a fun idea. He sees the legendary sword for the first time and his mind is blown. On the other hand, I also like my Four with a side of hubris. What if he had the option on his quest to draw the Master Sword himself? What if he could tell that if he did that, the consequences would be terrible. He's not sure what would happen, but he knows it would be terrible. So he decided to make his own sword instead to disastrous results. Wouldn't that be tragic or what?

-Time-

What I love about them: Last winter, I did a two hour powerpoint for my friends about the Legend of Zelda timeline. During that powerpoint, I was rating every iteration of Link. What I said about the Hero of Time then holds true to my thoughts of LU Time now. Time is the original Link, more so than Sky in the lore and Legend/Hyrule in real life. Every other hero is a reflection of him. So the fact that his story is about the loss of childhood and the tragedy of that is incredible, and you can see those themes reflected in every other game. Moreso, he’s the only Link with a confirmed tragic ending. Not only does he end his life unsatisfied, but his adventure is failure on every timeline. In the adult timeline, Hyrule is swallowed by the sea. In the child one, Ganondorf returns again. In the fallen timeline, Hyrule fell. I like the idea since that the games themselves are the legends that are past down about each hero, Hylians have also remembered Time as a tragic figure. Yet, they also remember that the happy moments for his life come from small acts of kindness. Even someone as sad as him finds joy in helping others, even if it’s just to small deeds that will not be heralded as grand heroic quests. It’s beautiful.

What I hate about them: This is more about Mask than Time, but Mask is not an adult in a child’s body. He did not rewind time in Termina enough to be considered mentally an adult. He’s a young teenager at best, and that’s me being generous. He is a child who was forced to be an adult and despite the gods being done with him, he cannot conceive of ever having a childhood again. So he can say all he wants that he’s an adult, but he is not. That’s just what he thinks he is.

Favorite Moment/Quote: Anytime we get a flashback to him being a younger adult is great. I want to see more of his in this his early adulthood.

What I would like to see more focus on: I think I just want more of Time being... not a bad leader, but being an imperfect one. I honestly think he’s only the leader because he’s the oldest and enough of the heroes recognize the title of Hero of Time. But he is not the leader type, and he is struggling to keep it together and has to defer to Twilight and Warriors for help a lot. 

What I would like to see less focus on: I’m not the biggest fan of Dad!Time for any of the Links. He’s not emotionally ready for it. And I think he defaults to treating the boys like adults because that’s how he wanted to be treated when he was their age. 

Favorite pairing with: Malon. He has this great partnership of equal respect with her and it’s just. So good.

Favorite friendship: Linebeck. I know. This exists only in my head. But if these two ever meet, you cannot convince me that they would not get along swimmingly. It would be so good (once Linebeck gets over his crush on Time and stops hitting on him, of course).

NOTP: Child Timeline Zelda. Let me explain: I fully believe in Bi Time supremacy, and when in OoT, he definitely had a crush on Sheik. However, one of the worst parts of rewinding time and being in the child timeline is that Zelda is a completely different person now. They may have been friends in the other timeline, but her life experiences are completely different now. She is not the same person as he once knew. And it’s tragic to know someone as who they could have been, not as they are.

Favorite headcanon: After Termina, Time spent a lot of time with the Nabooru because out of everyone he knew, she’s the only who took him seriously even as a child. She has big older sister energy, and he considers her a part of his family. However, being treated as such made it easier for him to ignore his issues and put off his healing process by a few years.

-Legend-

What I love about them: Veteran of Heroes! What a freaking title. I love that he keeps on finding adventures, and that he keeps hustling. Even if he complains about never getting a break, you can tell that he loves helping others. He loves being on the road, never settling down, and finding adventure after adventure. Honestly, if any of the Links had a calling to be a hero, it’s him. Is he tired? Sure. Is he a little jaded after having saved Hyrule and a bunch of other kingdoms multiple times? Yes. But at the end of the day, he likes being a hero. This is who he is. His complaining is not genuine; he just plays the martyr because, at this point, he’s earned the right to.

What I hate about them: If you can’t tell by now, I have a, uh, different interpretation of Legend from popular canon. Fandom Legend is not right to me. He is unrecognizable. It is hard to write him because I feel like I have to balance what other people think Legend should be versus how I think he is. The people who are big Legend enjoyers probably feel the same way about my version of Warriors, and that’s fine. I’m not going to gel with every character and I don’t expect everyone to gel with how I see characters either. It’s goes both ways, y’know.

Favorite Moment/Quote: I like how subtly he tried to approach the Wolfie problem at first, trying to ask questions and get more proof before confronting Twilight. It’s a good touch.

What I would like to see more focus on: If I had to choose one thing, it’s this one throw away line about him never wanting to settle down. I’m telling you, folks! He likes his lifestyle! And did you see him when he does presenting the origins of the hero? He’s not bitter about being a hero! Legend is moody, but he is not angsty about the whole hero thing. Have fun with him please!

What I would like to see less focus on: If you can’t tell by now, Legend is my least favorite Link. There is a lot I want to see less of, but just to name one thing, it’s the headcanon that Fable is his sister. I live and die by common born Link, and whether he’s a legitimate heir or the royal bastard, I am more than bored with the persistent Prince!Legend content.

Favorite pairing with: Marin. It’s a good tragic story and I like it well enough. She’s cute, and he’s cute with her.

Favorite friendship: Warriors. I’m with everyone else on these two have peak sibling energy. They tease and pick on each other, but only they are allowed to mess with each other. They’re each other’s bully, and it’s always good to see.

NOTP: I do not have enough energy to have a lot of strong opinions about Legend’s romantic relationships, but I will mentioned that I have lost a lot of love for Ravio recently and am liking seeing him with Legend less and less. I have no better reason for this than the fact that I finally played ALBW and hate how many of my hard earned rupees he’s taken from me by withholding important, lifesaving items. Rat bastard.

Favorite headcanon: Remember my headcanon about him being the coolest bad boy folk hero on the block because everyone thinks he kidnapped Zelda? Yeah, I still stand by that one. I did good there.

-Hyrule-

What I love about them: If there is any Link that I would call a gutter rat, it is this one. I struggle a bit to talk about Hyrule since his games gives us so little, but in the end, I always fall back on him being a hero of the people. He is the one who has nothing and relates the best to people who are at their lowest. Yet, he is still a hero. He earns the right to be a hero because he helped Impa in her time of need. He’s selfless and competent. Even if he never got a traditional education, I bet he’s wicked smart too. He is the Link that symbolizes all of the parts of the Triforce the most. And, god. I cannot talk about him without mentioning the blood sacrifice part of LA. It’s such a cool concept, and I cannot imagine what it must be like to go from being the rough and tumble, win-at-all-costs fighting to protecting yourself first because if you don’t, the consequences are disastrous. It’s paradoxical, and it must be such a different mindset to fall into. But it must also be a blessing in disguise since now he has a reason to finally care about himself.

What I hate about them: Who started the Hyrule is innocent headcanon? Come over here because we need to exchange some words. If there is anyone who would be a realist and know how the world works, it’s this guy. And while we’re here, who came up with the Hryule is always lost headcanon? I also have some words for you. And you know what? WHILE WE’RE HERE, who let him be named Hyrule? I’m have more than choice words for you. His name scheme is the bane of my existence and the express reason why I don’t write him more. God.

Favorite Moment/Quote: That one panel where he takes utter delight in Warriors hiding from his scorned lovers? That is a central pillar in my understanding of Hyrule.

What I would like to see more focus on: Again, his relationship with other people. Even if his games are lacking in NPCs, we know from lore that he’s a good guy who will jump in to help others. He must know plenty of people, and I want to see who exists in his world with him. 

What I would like to see less focus on: I have an on-going joke with my brother that certain characters are Catholic, even if Catholicism does not exist in the world of the thing we’re watching or playing. Of course, we’re not being serious. we’re just joshing around. So imagine the gut punch I feel whenever I see people say Hyrule is Christian and realize that they’re being serious. I just can’t take it seriously.

Favorite pairing with: Aurora. It’s cute and I’m a sucker for that hero and royalty dynamic, especially when the hero is a peasant. It’s so cheesy, but I love it.

Favorite friendship: Legend. But not the way everyone else pairs them up as the grumpy one and the sunshine one. I think of it more as them being the pinnacle of boys being boys. They’re shitheads. They do stupid shit together. They both have a dark sense of humor. They joke that they’re practically the same person sometimes.

NOTP: uhhhhhhhhh.... Is he paired with anyone else?

Favorite headcanon: I love the idea that he just likes his way of life and refuses to accept anyone saying otherwise. Legend wants to teach him to read? Sorry, but he’s never had to read before in his life so he’s pretty sure he’ll never need it anyway. Want to participate in the treasured Hylian tradition of piercing your ears when you come of age? Why would he ever do that when a monster could rip those earrings off? He’s stuck in his ways and it frustrates everyone else to no end, but he has no interest in ever changing.

-Wild-

What I love about them: When I was 9, I spent my time online on Legend of Zelda forums. I remember one of my forum friends saying that they wanted a Legend of Zelda game where Link lost. And I think of that friend whenever I think about Wild. BOTW Link is the best Link that has ever been. He is the epitome of every trait we associate with any Link. He’s smart and sassy. He’s hard working and kind. But underlining all of that is the fact that he’s still the one who failed. If Demise’s Curse in SkSw is the set-up, the Great Calamity is the payoff. And I haven’t even talked about how confirming him as being non-verbal before the Calamity does so much for his characterization. I don’t even know where to start or how to articulate it. By game storyline alone, Wild is one of my favorites.

What I hate about them: You guys knew this one was coming, but I’m going to have to say it anyway. Fandom Wild.... not good. I’ve said it for half of these boys so far, but god is it true. I have a way I see Wild that is rarely done in the fandom. Fandom Wild has a lot of the traits I also see in Wild, but to all of the extremes. I will mention one thing in particular as being a pet peeve, and it’s how some people headcanon him as always being nonverbal. I know what they’re trying to do, and I think they’re on to something, but they’re also missing the point of what BOTW Link’s character arc is. I just wish more people would forget fandom and work more off of the games for how to characterize him.

Favorite Moment/Quote: Weirdly enough, my favorite moment is when he got mad at everyone for making fun of his Gerudo outfit, so he dumped Goron Spice in his cooking. It’s encapsulates a part of his character I think a lot of people forget about.

What I would like to see more focus on: I think he has a really complicated relationship with his past. He said himself that his old self felt like a different person, and I think that should be explored a lot more. That idea actually fascinates me so much that instead of CTB, I almost wrote a character study fic about Wild. His emotions are not as simple as feeling guilty about letting his friends die and not preventing the Calamity. His emotions would be so complicated and because I don’t have the time to explore it, someone else needs to do it for me.

What I would like to see less focus on: There is a weird fascination with Wild having memory loss and essentially being like a kid again. And this feels infantilizing to me. It honestly bugs me a lot every time I see it.

Favorite pairing with: I can’t decide between Zelda, Mipha, and Revali. They’re all different dynamics and they’re all good.

Favorite friendship: Paya. I firmly believe that Paya is Wild’s best friend. I am the only one in the world who believes this. But I am also the only one in the world who is correct. 

NOTP: Wild is good with everyone. Good for him!

Favorite headcanon: An essential scene of my Wild character study I will never write is one where his horse dies. He goes into shock and walks back to Kakariko to talk to Impa. But once he goes to her, he breaks down in tears and has an absolute melt down over the horse. And Impa sagely says, “It’s not about the horse, is it?” She’s implying that he’s actually mourning the loss of his friends, Hyrule, his life, everything-- but through his tears, he keeps tell her that she’s wrong. He barely remembers them. He doesn’t know them. He doesn’t have any feelings about them. He just really loved that horse. But Impa refuses to listen to him, just repeating over and over again: “it’s not really about the horse.”

And that’s it! That’s all of my opinions! I know a lot of my opinions are polarizing, but everything I said is in good faith, and I am not trying to diss anyone for how they approach these characters.

I welcome you to send me your Opinions on the Links, even if it’s just to disagree with me. I’m cool with it, and I like knowing what everyone else thinks!

[lunar-writes]

AkiRohan Incorrect Quotes

⩘⩗⩘⩗⩘⩗⩘⩗⩘⩗⩘⩗⩘⩗⩘⩗⩘⩗⩘⩗⩘⩗⩘⩗⩘⩗⩘⩗⩘⩗

Rohan, scrolling through Twitter: Koichi, what the fuck is 'AkiRohan'?

Koichi, who accidentally started the tag:

-

Josuke: Are you two dating?

Rohan, holding Akira's hand: No why would you think that

-

Rohan: *making fun of Josuke & Okuyasu* That's gay

Akira, holding him in his lap: Really-

-

Akira: Why the fuck are you drinking Monster at 3 in the morning?

Rohan, sleep deprived and physically shaking: Pain is temporary but greatness is eternal

Akira: go to bed

-

Akira: Damn, my fingers hurt from playing all day

Rohan: I can rub some cream on them for you

Akira: Is this just an excuse to hold my hand?

Rohan:

Akira: Answer me Rohan

-

*Arriving at a hotel together*

Akira: Oh there's only one bed

Rohan, laying on the bed seductively: How unfortunate

-

Rohan: Should we start dating?

Akira: Were we not already?

-

Rohan: I fucking hate EVERYONE

Akira: Everyone?

Rohan:

Rohan: ....alright fiNE-

-

Akira: I want to give you a pet name

Rohan: Like what?

Akira: Sweetie, darling, dearest, dearly beloved, my love—

Rohan: *blushing intensely* PLEASE stop

-

Rohan, holding out a card: Happy Anniversary, I guess

Akira: Thank you....?

Akira: *reads the card* ....

Akira: "I don't hate you"?

-

Rohan: I have done nothing wrong, ever

Akira: I know that's bullshit but I love you anyways

-

Akira: I have an idea

Rohan: No murder

Akira: I no longer have an idea

-

Akira: You're violent

Rohan: Who's the murderer here???

-

Akira: Tell me something good before I commit another murder

Rohan: No music in prison

Akira: This is why I love you

-

Koichi: Rohan-sensei, why are you ignoring Otoishi-san?

Rohan: I'm playing hard to get

Josuke: Why? You're already hard to want

-

Akira: I'm going to play all of Metallica at max volume and no one is going to stop me

Rohan: Akira

Akira: One person is going to stop me

-

Okuyasu: You deserve an award for putting up with me

Josuke: Oku, you are my reward ♡

Akira: You deserve an award for putting up with me-

Rohan: Damn fucking straight I do

-

Rohan: The stars are bright tonight, aren't they?

Akira, mumbling: You're the brightest star

Rohan: What was that?

Akira: I said I want to hit you with a jar-

-

Rohan: Color me surprised

Akira: You're literally white as a ghost

Rohan: As if you're any better

-

Akira: Truth or Dare?

Rohan: Truth

Akira: How many hours have you slept this week?

Rohan: Dare

Akira: Go to sleep

Rohan: I don't like this game

-

Rohan: I know you think my judgement is clouded because I like Otoishi a little

Koichi: You drew your wedding invitation

Rohan: That's our joint tombstone

Koichi: My mistake

-

Rohan, seeing Josuke getting blasted into the nearest wall by Akira: Was that necessary?

Akira: No, but it was dope

Rohan: Understandable, carry on

-

Rohan: Why did God deem it necessary for me to exist

Koichi:

Koichi: *gestures to Akira*

Rohan: Oh yeah, that's why

-

Rohan: I despise you immensely, your music is absolute garbage and your sense of fashion is atrocious

Akira: You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid

-

Akira: Rohan, babe, hun, hotstuff, light of my life-

Rohan: No I will not pass you the aux cord

-

Josuke: Isn't that, like, your twentieth drawing of Otoishi?

Rohan: And don't you still have that stupid hairstyle? Fuck off

-

Koichi: Rohan-sensei said you have pretty hair and a nice ass

Akira, twirling a strand of hair: He thinks it's pretty?

-

Akira: Do you think I have a type?

Josuke: Yeah, the unlovable

Rohan: I am riGHT HERE-

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Rohan: That's ridiculous, Otoishi doesn't like me at all

Reimi: Yes he does

Koichi: Yes he does

Akira: Yes I do

-

Rohan: If I run and jump at Akira, he will most certainly catch me

Rohan, running at Akira: CATCH

Akira: NO I'M HOLDING MY GUITAR-

Akira: *catches Rohan with one arm, still holding guitar*

Rohan: How the fu-

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They've taken over me and now I'm obsessed with these two dumbasses. They're chaotically in love and I'm here for it

[i-am-the-ass-admiral]

quiet worship

benny miller x gn!reader

tags: smut (18+ please), feelings, tenderness, morning sex, penetrative sex, no explicit descriptions of reader parts (when i saw gn i mean it lol), adoring benny, soft benny, switch benny if you squint, praise, established relationship, pretty much pwp but it’s so soft omfg, hand appreciation, touching, kissing, 

notes: posted late, sorry for errors

length: ~2.9k

--

You wake slowly, warm and saccharine. Crisp morning light reflected off the snow outside spills over long limbs tangled with yours but you don’t see it yet. A dream leaves you wound tight, aching and wanting and almost ready to rut against the thick thigh between yours but you leave it off. At least for now. Eyes closed, you take a long, deep breath. Everything smells familiar. Like faint ozone as the space heater kicks on, like fresh cotton sheets. Salt and earthy masculine soap and sleep-warm skin. For a moment, you hold the scent in your lungs, content to exist with it for a while. When you let it out, your body relaxes. Somehow molds into the broad chest under your arm. You tuck in your cheek, a familiar steady heartbeat threading faintly to your ear. It’s almost enough to lull you back to sleep except the body under yours stiffens with a light gasp and you open your eyes.

When you look up at him, Benny’s face still seems impassive. Strands of hair stick up in places or fall over his eyes and just underneath you can make out the faintest line between his brows. Gently and without a thought, your fingers circle where they lay. Nonsensical patterns that slowly but surely draw Benny back to your world. Like you, like a mirror his first instinct as he wakes is to breathe deep. You smile to yourself and distantly wonder who learned it from whom. Then those eyes—oh, those eyes—blink open and catch the morning light and just like that, he smiles. 

“Creeper,” he teases, and you huff. Nothing smart to say as his sleep-rough voice skates down your skin. “You watchin’ me sleep?”

He curls his arm around you and pulls you close even though you pinch his side. 

“For like two seconds,” you smile back. “You’re not that pretty.”

Benny’s soft look breaks into a full grin and his chuckle makes you bounce. 

“Liar. ‘M gorgeous.”

You rolls your eyes but kiss his chest. “Every day of the week and it makes you a huge pain in the ass.”

You can see some of that familiar fire sparking in Benny’s eye as his brain comes back online. 

“Sounds like someone woke up ’n the wrong side of the bed. Those’re fightin’ words,” he drawls.

That drawl brings back your dream. The same tone that ended up muffled in your neck, taunting and teasing as he thrust into you and your fingers dug into his broad back. Just the vague memories are enough to make your thighs tighten involuntarily. Without fail, Benny can pick up what you want—usually without a clue otherwise but that was probably a dead giveaway. Or maybe it’s the black overtaking your eyes, the sharp edge to your smile, the growing heat at the crux of your hips—whatever it is, Benny sees it. And he’s never been one to shrug off a rousing morning round. 

“Oh you do got a little fight this mornin’, don’t you?” he teases, pinching your leg where he can reach it. He tosses his chin in that familiar way that drives you crazy and says, “C’mon darlin’, you want in the ring?”

You snort, “You’re ridiculous,” but it’s the invitation you were hoping for so you untangle yourself and slide up over his hips as he pushes the blanket down. While he’s not wrong, sometimes you do like to fuck like Benny fights, this morning isn’t that morning. Something about it feels fragile and soft and you want Benny to feel that too. For all his hard edges, there’s a molten core to him—he just needs a little direction to find it. 

In the beginning, it took a while for you to be comfortable on top but Benny—sweet man—built you up as far as you needed. It’s in the way his bright blue eyes widen and the sort of breathless smile that spills out of him—it’s all the encouragement you need. He’s half-hard behind you already, and his eyes flit avaricious over every inch of you. If you let him, he’d take you as hard and as fast as you want. Or, if he’s feeling particular, as hard and fast as he wants and christ do you see stars then. The trick is to get him to follow when you want something slow and sweet. 

So, lead by example. 

His hands lay wide and warm over your thighs, grip tight already, but you pry him loose and thread your fingers together. He doesn’t look confused like you thought he might, just pleased to be under you. Happy for contact. Then you flatten one of his hands back against your thigh and take the other higher. Bring him to your lips and kiss the pad of each finger. You watch him from under your lashes, wondering if he likes what he sees, catch as his lips parts and a soft needful sigh escapes him. The sound sparks warm embers in your stomach. He presses against your lips with his index finger, asking entry. You refuse. Not yet, anyway. Instead you flatten his palm against your face and nuzzle your cheek in his grip. God, the length of his hand spans from your chin to your ear and it makes you so warm. Unsteady. Almost formless save for the shape his hand gives you. Hot emotion rises in your throat and for a moment you close your eyes again and breathe—in and out, nice and slow, enjoying his quiet adoration until you feel solid again. 

This is one of the only times Benny is quiet. You cover his hand with your own and drag him lower, so his fingers trace the column of your throat and the top of your chest. Normally Ben is full of stories. Vivacious. Filled to the brim with potent emotion both good and bad. You’ve gone with him through so many of those feelings it’s almost second-nature to you now to anticipate how he would react to something. But this…you never got used to. Like this, when you lead, he falls into a kind of quiet awe that leaves you trembling. How do you hold something like that in your grasp? How can you even begin to plumb the depths of hushed worship that stare back at you when you catch his eyes?

The answer is you can’t. Sometimes it’s even overwhelming—Benny will give all that you ask, all that he has—all you can do now is guide his hand lower. You pinch your nipple with his fingers and gasp softly and that calls his other hand to your waist without instruction. Answering your unspoken desire. Covering each of his hands with one of your own, you let him roam wherever he might and guide him in turn. Silently, your head falls back and your eyes close. Why look at anything now when you could feel it instead? Callouses catch in your skin, fingers grasp, tease, somewhere along the line you lose yourself in the feeling. Drunk on the texture of his hands and the timbre of his voice as he lays praise at your feet.

“So pretty like this,” he says. “Love how you feel, darlin’ can I have you?”

You can’t answer with words but you can nod. One of his hands leaves and you immediately miss the heat of it but the way he spreads the other and touches you from throat to groin is enough to keep you distracted. Long fingers avoid the place you want him most—part of you is thankful, part impatient. Between the two of you, there’s not much patience to be found at this point. There’s the drag of a drawer, a click and a shuffling of sheets but it’s not until Benny adjusts his legs and you feel his cock stiff and hot against your ass do your eyes open again. 

He’s there—open and wanting as he always is. But there’s a hint of vulnerability, something doleful and tender in those blue eyes that leaves you breathless. 

“Can I?” he pleads, and it’s only then you catch the slickness coating the fingers that left you. 

“Please.”

It’s been so long together and still he asks (begs) like it’s the first time. You move at the same time—he reaches for you as you reach for him—but he finds you first. A tug; you fall forward. Plant your hands on his chest and lift your hips for him and long, thick fingers slide slick into place where you’re aching for him. 

“Benny…” You draw his name out low and slow somewhere between a whisper and a moan. “Ah, god—” 

“That’s it, baby—” He works you open by rote, all your pieces memorized; urges, “c’mon, you can take me, can’t you?”

It’s as close to begging as he’ll get for now—though if you wanted to hear it you know how to make him beg so prettily—but it’s more than enough for you. You scramble for the lube he found, slick him up just enough to ease the slide and sink down onto him as slow as you can.

Christ, he’s so much. You should’ve let him open you more. Should’ve let his hands do the work instead of falling for the wrecked sound of his voice, but a part of you likes the way it hurts at first. It’s tightness and pressure and it builds in your gut until you’re seated flush against his hips and he’s grit his teeth so hard you could almost hear it. His heart pounds under your hands and his thighs shake but he waits, oh he waits—

“Good boy,” you whisper, “thank you, baby. So good for me.” He whines in the back of his throat, hips twitch and you hiss. “Be patient for me.”

And he is. Patient, just like you asked. Until you give an experimental thrust and just that alone has him throwing his head back into the pillows. God, the line of his neck exposed and taut looks too good—you set your teeth and suck mark after mark into his skin. Wait long enough in-between to see how pretty the purple blooms; by the end you’ve bitten a garden and he’s trembling. You kiss him, finally, despite the morning breath and all—it’s worth it for the desperate way his tongue draws you in and only when you’ve tasted the way he needs you now do you move. 

He moans your name like a poem. Soft and repetitious, sprinkled with praise and curses as you take him in and out over and over. The pace is maddeningly slow for both of you but you can feel his restraint in the way he quivers, how he grits his teeth and hisses, and you have to make it worth it for that. If you were to ask Benny, he would say it’s always worth it, no matter how he gets to have you. But oh, for his patience, he deserves something good. Aching, slow, you clench and squeeze and thrust until your legs begin to feel like jelly and you’re closer to the edge than you thought you’d be by now. But it’s the morning. It’s how he holds you in his eyes, how his hands grip your hips or tease or pinch that finally pulls you apart.

“Benny, baby,” you pant, “more, more please—”

You don’t even get to finish asking; he’s dying to fill you, take you, give you everything you want. He plants his feet behind you and the tension in him has wound so tight he almost dislodges you with his first thrust. You groan high and sharp and he does it again and suddenly that’s all you can feel, all you can think. More more more Ben please there—maybe you say it out loud, maybe you don’t. You’re not sure of anything except the heat and breadth of him inside you—the sound of sex and the nonsense coming out of your mouth and Benny’s worshipful silence. The edge is so close, it’s right there, you just need something to take you over but you don’t know what and you can’t think to ask; too cock-drunk and desperate for anything Ben will give you to give it a name. 

But Benny—clever boy—he knows. 

God even the look of him leaves you undone, and he knows it. His head tips back but body strains up toward you as if he wants nothing more than every inch of contact you’ll give him. Without a word, he pulls you down for another kiss. Bites at your bottom lip and savors the way you moan and slips a hand between your bodies to join his cock. Your hips stutter as he strokes you with perfect pressure, tearing you apart inside and out with sure hands and steady rhythm. 

“Ohhh—” So much. “—just like that Benny baby please—” It’s exactly what you needed; smart clever sweet man he knew just what you needed. “—right there, don’t stop, Benny ahhn hah—”

“Fuck,” he growls, drags you down and into his mouth, his molten center finally melding with yours, “fuck, are you gonna come for me sweetheart? Let me make a mess a’ you?”

It’s that—god it’s exactly that and his tongue and hands and cock splitting you open and the desperate worship on his face that finally sends you reeling. You want him to make a mess of you; you don’t ever want to be clean again, not if it means you can keep him like this. Pleasure pulses through you in waves, shaking you to your core; toes curling, body dripping—you scream with it. Tears bite the corners of your eyes. You curse in tandem, a hoarse crescendo punctuated with each deep, perfect thrust. 

You writhe, desperately, embarrassingly, but the way Benny moans and thrusts unerringly into your heat sets you alight with ecstasy. Pleasure knots tight in your core, zips out to every extremity, the tips of your toes and fingers and lips. So hot you’re sure your kisses must burn him. Your body bucks mindlessly, bows into him for all the contact he craves, a glorious pressure and heat—

His voice breaks over your name and you feel him empty inside you. He buries himself in one last-ditch thrust, crushing you tight to his body as you quiver and shake and clench in your aftershocks and god feeling him so deep and so hot is almost enough to send you over again. You’re on another plane, flying high above your joined bodies but it’s the beat of his heart and the sound of his breath and the touch of his hands that gentle you back down to find him waiting. As you slump into him, his arms curl around you and he holds you there. You’re not sure how long—you’re still reeling—but he cradles you with all the tenderness in the world. Presses your foreheads together and strokes your back as his hips (and yours) finally roll to a stop. Spent and exhausted. 

When your eyes flutter open you find him waiting there. Big pretty blue depths waiting to swallow you whole. Without a second thought, you brush the hair from his forehead and fall in. Kiss him soft and long and slow. His fingers thread along the back of your neck and he seems content to stay buried inside you until you say otherwise. You’d let him, too. For as long as he wanted, if he asked. That’s somewhat frightening, the implications of it all, but it’s something you’re learning to accept. You love him—sometimes it’s just easier to show than to tell. 

When at last you pull away from his kiss, you find you can’t meet those eyes again. Not yet. Something hot and tight chokes your throat and you bury your face in the crook of his neck instead. Silently begging for him to understand. 

And—without fail—he does. You can feel some of his concern in the way his arms wrap around you again but he pets your hair and lets you feel for as long as you need. And from the way his heart still pounds against yours, you know he’s right there with you. Faithful to the end. At last you let out a long satisfied sigh and slide off his hips back to the spot at his side you’d left behind. 

“Helluva wake up call,” he teases, voice light but careful. 

“Couldn’t help myself,” you smile, tracing the line of his jaw. “You’re in my dreams then here in person all gorgeous like this—it’s all your fault.”

He laughs and kisses your fingertips when they stray too close to his mouth and you feel the last of the tension drain out of him. 

“Yeah, guess I had that comin’.”

“Well…it’s not all your fault.” You pause, stuck in a moment of vulnerability, but you keep your smile. Benny deserves to hear it. “I do love you, I’m sure that has something to do with it.”

It sounds flippant—you don’t mean it that way—but Benny’s face breaks into the widest grin you’ve seen in days. 

“Ass,” he chuckles. His soft melted center heats him all the way through, a pleased pink dusting his cheeks above his goofy smile as he murmurs, “I love you, too.”