#but i really love how they turned out in the end

[humanjarvis]

caught in a lie

synopsis: when you ignore caleb’s calls, he catches you trying to run from the consequences. you make a false promise to appease his anger, not expecting your lie to unravel. but almost immediately, it does.  

tags: based loosely on caleb's "hidden waves" memory, porn with plot, manipulative!caleb x manipulative!reader, brat!reader, mean(ish) dom!caleb, caleb makes out with your cunt for an hour, reader cries, belly bulge, 3 brother mentions but they’re done ironically/out of spite, humiliation, semi-public sex (caleb makes you call and cancel plans with that friend while he fucks you), lines lifted directly from hidden waves in bold pairing: caleb x fem!reader  word count: 3.9k

a/n: love the scene this is based on bc it reminds me of my favorite book from the wattpad era in 300 BC. also this is my first time writing full-on smut and omfg i don't know how people write like 10k of it u guys are wizards. but the response to this will determine how explicitly i write going forward, no pressure

As the Skyhaven nightscape twinkles around you, you can’t help but feel like you’re forgetting something. 

You’d had a great night: Simone had invited you to a cute café, the owners had given you a free muffin, and the raging storm from this afternoon had dwindled into a drizzle. But still, a sense of foreboding loomed over you, threatening to taint the precious memories you’d made tonight.

“...And next week we can go to this new bar downtown! I heard they have the best drinks, and there’s even a puppy mascot they let walk around and play with guests. Doesn’t that sound fun?” 

“Yeah, sure,” you agree absently, Simone’s words going in one ear and out the other. “I’ll be there.”

As you walk farther down the sidewalk, the vibrant city atmosphere melts away your worries. People of all ages were out splashing in leftover puddles, trying new food stalls, and window shopping in the strip of stores that lit your path. Gradually, you give up on trying to place your unease, surrendering fully to the comfort of the cool night air.

“Hey!” you exclaim, an idea popping into your head. “Do you want to find a photobooth and take some pictures? I want something to remember tonight by.”

“Oh my gosh, absolutely,” Simone responds. “There should be one not too far from here. I went with my brother a few months back! It was really fun.”

At her words, you stop in your tracks. Her enthusiasm is no match for the dread building in your chest. 

Caleb.

Caleb who’d told you to text him when you got to the café, when you were about to leave, and when you were almost home. 

Caleb was what—or who—you were forgetting.

Slowly, you reach your hand into your purse until you feel your phone, digging it out and staring as if it were a venomous animal. Taking a deep breath, you tap the screen awake and immediately lose the air you’d just inhaled. 

7 Unread messages

4 Missed calls

3 New voicemails

Fuck.

“Uh, actually,” you start, chucking the device back into your bag, “I just realized I didn’t bring a brush! There’s no way I can take pictures without fixing my hair—it’s like a bird’s nest up there,” you ramble, giggling nervously. “Can we end the night here?”

“O…kay?” Simone says, clearly confused by the sudden shift in your mood. “Yeah, we can go back now. Your hair looks fine, though.”

Thanking the universe for giving you such an agreeable friend, you walk back to her car, the quickness of your usually unhurried steps betraying your agitation.

He’s gonna kill me, he’s gonna kill me, he’s gonna kill me, you think. 

As the familiar outline of Simone’s car comes into view, she turns to face you. “Do you want a ride to the train station? I told my girlfriend I’d be home at 1:30—I have another hour.”

“Wait!” you cry, throwing your hands out in front of you. She looks at you as if the intensity in your voice is unnecessary. Which is true, because she’s standing a foot away. Quieter this time, you ask, “Would it be okay if I spent the night at your place? Just this once, I promise.” 

“...If you really need to,” she agrees warily. “As long as you don’t mind cat hair.”

When you reach her car, Simone gestures for you to wait as she walks around to the passenger’s side. “I just need to clean up real quick. The granola bar wrappers build up when you’re constantly called in early for emergencies.” 

But when Simone pulls on the door handle, it doesn’t open. “Weird,” she mutters, wiping raindrops onto her jeans. “I swear I unlocked it.” 

She clicks a button on her keys and tries again. Inexplicably, the door still doesn’t budge. “It’s like some force is holding it shut or something,” she says. At that, an alarm sounds in the back of your mind. But before it can reach your consciousness, she continues. “Well, I have a locksmith on speed dial anyway—I’m always losing my keys. But before I call, seriously, are you ok? The way you asked me to stay over….Is there something scary waiting for you at home? Why do you look so worried?”

"It’s probably because I’m home,” the all-too-familiar voice rings out behind you. 

In an instant, your entire body goes rigid. Your now-pounding heart screams at you to run, but you can’t obey without making a scene in front of your friend. 

Plastering a smile on your face, you turn around slowly, as if the longer you took to face him, the more likely he’d be to disappear.  

You had no such luck. Towering over you, umbrella in hand, was Caleb, his normally expressive face a wall of stone. 

Despite his obvious anger, he steps forward to shield you from the downpour and you refrain from taking a step back—against your better judgment.

“Caleb!” you remark, your voice shrill with unease. “What a surprise!”

Ignoring your greeting, Caleb turns his attention to Simone. “Skyhaven isn’t very safe tonight,” he says coolly. “You’d better get home.”

The finality in his words makes it clear: you won’t be joining her. 

“Um, sure,” Simone trails off, wary eyes searching yours. “Will you be alright?”

“...Yes, it’s okay.”

Though your words don’t seem to convince her, Caleb’s penetrating glare does. She quickly walks to the driver’s side and effortlessly pops the door open—surprise, surprise—before jumping in. Giving you one last look, your only chance at salvation drives into the night.

The ride back to Caleb’s house is silent. You scoot as close as you can to the window beside you, paying no mind to the intensifying patter of rain against the glass. All that you notice is how he grips the steering wheel tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. 

When you pull into his driveway and exit the car, he walks closely behind you, preventing any more last-minute escape attempts. His imposing presence follows you inside and all the way to his bedroom. 

When you both cross the threshold, the air thickens with tension as you stand in silence, unmoving. 

“Well, goodnight!” you call when you can’t take it anymore. But before you can take one step, Caleb swings the door shut with his Evol. Huh, you think. Doors must be his speciality tonight.

“Where do you think you could possibly be going after the night you gave me?” he asks, steely voice cutting through your thoughts.

“Listen—” you start, but he cuts you off. 

“You ordered coffee three times. Burst out into laughter I could hear from outside six times. And yet, you somehow managed to check your phone zero times.”

“If you’d just given me more time, I was going to—”

“You were going to what? Because here’s what I think would have happened: If I hadn’t picked you up, you would’ve gone to your friend’s place, right? Then, you’d message me with an apology. Oh, throw in a cute emoji as the cherry on top,” he snorts. 

“With that done, you’d put your phone away and curl up into a ball to sleep. You wouldn’t even dare to check my response. You’d wait it out and believe I wouldn’t be upset. And once I’m away on a mission or somethin’...you would sneak back into the house and pretend nothing happened. Tell me,” he challenges you. “Am I wrong?”

He wasn’t wrong. He was never wrong—not about your habits, at least. 

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you snap. “I thought you said you were ‘done playing games’? You don't have to act so big brother-y all the time.”

Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say. Caleb’s head rears back, his eyes going wide in incredulity before he scoffs. 

Alright, you sigh, time to turn on the waterworks. 

Taking a deep breath, you force tears into your eyes. “Caleb,” you begin, “I really didn’t mean to ignore you. I was just having so much fun. S-someone brought their puppy to the café and I got distracted.” The café hadn’t allowed pets, but you needed all the sympathy you could get. You’d have to thank Simone for telling you about that new bar later. “I won’t do it again. I won’t even go out at night anymore—promise.”

As he takes in your pitiful expression, you see Caleb’s resolve start to crack, the twitch in his right eye giving away how much he wants to console you. Maintaining your pout, you internally grin like a Cheshire cat. He could never say no to you. He could never le—

Your phone rings.

You thought you’d turned it off in the car, but your fucking phone rings. Right when you have him where you want him. 

The shrill tone sucks the air out of the room, and with it, any hope for your escape.

“Answer it. Speaker.” His voice leaves no room for argument.

Visibly shaken, you fish your phone out of your bag and accept the call. “H-hello?”

“Hey Y/N, it’s Simone. I’m calling to check on you—that guy who took you home was kinda scary. I just wanted to make sure he didn’t do anything. Are you okay?”

At the insinuation that he’d ever harm you, Caleb’s face turns thunderous, his jaw clenching so hard you’re afraid it’ll snap. 

“No, no, I’m fine,” you reassure her. “Thanks for worrying though, that’s really sweet,” you add, your eyes darting up and immediately back down after meeting Caleb’s glower. 

“That’s great, I really was worried,” she says, relief evident in her voice. “Well, before you hang up, are we still on for same time next week at the bar I mentio—”

You hang up as soon as she reveals your plans, throwing your phone so abruptly it bounces off the chair where your purse sits and onto the carpet. But it was too late. There was no sweet-talking the irate scowl off of Caleb’s face. You’d lied. 

Like a deer in headlights, you stand frozen and helpless as Caleb stalks toward you. 

“You almost had me,” he chuckles darkly, squishing your cheeks between one hand. “And I bet you knew it, too. Remind me to thank Simone for being such a good friend later.”

His grip tightens when you try to respond, and he pulls your face closer to his instead. “I think I’ve had enough of you talking for now. No point in hearing it if you’re just gonna lie to me again.”

With uncanny speed, he lifts you by your legs and tosses you onto the mattress. When you attempt to sit up, hoping to crawl away, he captures both of your wrists in his hand and claims your lips in a bruising kiss. 

“Don’t talk.” A kiss. “Don’t move.” Another. “Don’t do anything I don’t tell you to do, and I might not chain you to this bed.” You’re so distracted by his final kiss—the exclamation point—that you barely register when he yanks your loose pants down, baring your cotton panties to him. 

When he spots the wet patch spreading through the middle, he moans, shifting to push his nose into your center. The deep inhales he takes seem to calm him down, and his voice loses some of its earlier edge when he murmurs, “Can’t believe you were keepin’ her from me tonight. Look at how much she missed me.”

He demonstrates by pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your panties, tasting you as you leak harder under his tongue. The whimper you let out falls on deaf ears as you remember his command: Don’t talk. 

Licking a stripe up your clothed folds, Caleb sighs into you in contentment. “Gonna see her in a second,” he breathes. “Just can’t give her too much at once, or she’ll get greedy.” 

He’s too far gone, you think, closing your eyes in preparation of what’s to come. But nothing prepares you for the way the seemingly sedated Caleb rips your panties open at the seam, exposing your hot skin to the cool air. 

With no hesitation, he plants a long kiss onto your core, his lips smacking against the fat of your outer folds. Covering your skin with a flurry of pecks, he moans into you, his intermittent licks becoming sloppy, appreciative kisses. 

Caleb was making out with your cunt like your brain wasn't in the room, kissing it like he hadn’t seen it in years. The sensations and lewd squelches make your arousal unbearable, but when you try to grind into his mouth—to get him to do something more—he pushes your hips into the mattress. 

“Don’t interrupt us,” he mumbles, lips still latched onto your unspread cunt. Heat rushing to your cheeks, you flop your head back down, defeated as the man ignores you to have his heartfelt reunion with your core. 

An agonizing few minutes later, you feel him press a last hard kiss against your skin before finally spreading your soaked folds. “Can’t believe you ever thought you could hide from me,” he growls, eyes sparkling. “I’ll show you you can’t. Make you never want to again.”

Slowly, he licks up and down your wetness, teasing his tongue around your entrance. You try to relax during his ministrations, knowing he won’t give you what you want this early, but he catches you off guard when he buries his tongue into your weeping, sputtering hole. 

A strangled moan escapes you as he fucks you with his tongue, twisting, turning, and circling himself inside you. 

One pulse has your walls flexing with desperation, and Caleb pulls back slightly when he feels you tighten around him. “Look at that, I think she’s kissin’ me back,” he coos, a string of his saliva refusing to part from your quivering cunt. 

Spurred on by the whine you give him, he flashes you a wicked grin before diving back in, plunging his tongue in and out at a punishing pace. 

All the while, he studiously avoids where you need him most, licking and kissing everywhere but your twitching clit—neglecting it like you did him earlier in the night.

Suddenly, he lifts his head up, flashing you a quick smirk. “You know,” he starts, licking his glistening lips. “When you were givin’ me all those crocodile tears and cryin’ about puppies earlier, you never did say sorry for trying to run. How about now, hmm?” he asks, pressing a wet kiss to your center. “You sorry?”

You pant out an incoherent moan, and he nips at your clit—the first time he’s touched it all night. Ignoring your squeal, he gives you another kiss. “I don’t know what that means. Try again.” 

You go to speak again, but Caleb suddenly rubs his nose against your clit, your resulting gasp sending your back shooting off the bed. He swiftly slams you back down with his Evol, giving you another nip. “Just two words, baby. You can do that for me, yeah? Two words, loud and clear. Want to know you mean it.”

You don’t know what it is—the last strands of your pride clinging on for dear life, your stupor after being toyed with for almost an hour, or pure stubbornness—but you can’t bring yourself to say it. With a whimper, you clamp your mouth shut, staring at the ceiling in rebellion. 

“Hmmm,” he hums, looking up at you briefly. Before you can even process it, Caleb covers your clit with his mouth and sucks, simultaneously groaning into you. The combined sensations set your nerves on fire, and you come in his mouth with a prolonged cry. 

“I’m sorry!” you wail, the tears in your eyes genuine this time. As Caleb laps up your release, chants of “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m—oh—I’m sorry,” fall through your lips, your earlier defiance reduced to blubbering submission. “Should’ve checked my phone and called you back, I’m so sorry.” 

You’ve apologized ten times over, it feels, but he won’t let up. He suckles you until it aches, and there’s nothing you can do but lie there and sob as his Evol keeps you pinned down. When he’s finally had his fill, he presses a reverent thank-you kiss to your cunt before crawling up your body, nestling in between your thighs. 

“Aw, none of that, now,” he coos, wiping under your eyes. “I forgive you, alright? I forgive you for getting distracted, baby.” Still crying, you nod frantically, leaning into his gentle touch. “But if you ever run from me again, whoever you’re with won’t like what happens when I catch you,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your lips and then your forehead before plunging into you. 

Though his pace is relentless, your walls draw him in, his earlier date with your cunt letting you take his thick length with ease. 

When the pressure builds and you shy away from his brutal thrusts, he turns your chin toward him, pressing an ironically chaste kiss to your mouth. “No running, remember?” 

As you hurtle toward your release, he leans close, kissing you briefly before speaking into your lips. “The next time you wanna ignore me—next time you wanna hide from me and lie to me sayin’ you’ll be good from now on—I want you to think of this, to think of me right here,” he murmurs, palming his cock through your belly. You squeal at the foreign feeling, but he only adds more force, and you think you’re about to pass out.   

“My baby,” he chides. “Loves to act out but she can’t handle the consequences.” While he speaks, he folds your left leg up, pushing it to your chest so he can penetrate you deeper.

“Please, Caleb!” you beg, the new angle making stars float across your vision. As your body rocks with the force of his strokes, you cry, “I said I was sorry!” 

“Mm, you did,” he nods, absorbing a tear on your cheek with a kiss. “But I don’t think you really are. Not yet.”

Without warning, he pulls out of you and flips you onto your stomach before sliding back in. Resuming his thrusts, he uses his Evol to pick your forgotten phone up off the floor. “Call her back. Speaker,” he orders. 

At first, you're flustered into hesitation, but as he holds the phone ahead of you and taps through your history to do it himself, you pull yourself together. “Wait,” you wail. “Wait. I’ll do it.”

You do it.

When Simone picks up, Caleb shows you mercy by decreasing his pace so the sound of slick skin colliding doesn’t travel through the phone. 

“Hey Y/N, what’s up? Is it about earlier? …Did something happen?” she asks in concern.

Frantically, you twist your head to look up at Caleb, not knowing what to say. 

Leisurely, he folds forward over you, his chest flush with your spine so he can whisper in your ear. Throughout his dramatics, your time to respond without raising suspicion wanes, and you grow more desperate by the second.

“Hi Simone,” Caleb finally whispers, pressing kisses to your ear in time with his languid strokes.

“H-hi Simone,” you repeat louder, a slight tremble in your voice.

“I just wanted to say thanks again for checking in. That guy, the one from earlier—he can be so mean sometimes,” Caleb murmurs, pouting his lips in ridicule. 

“I just wanted…wanted to say thanks again for checking in. The guy from earlier—hah—can be so mean sometimes,” you echo, breathless from the impact of Caleb’s hips rocking into yours.

“Can we reschedule our plans for next week? My big brother’s,” he emphasizes, mocking your earlier jab with two deep thrusts, “coming home, and he really misses me.” As he feeds you lines, the taunts in his words break through the softness of his whispers. 

As softly as you dare to, you whimper for him, hoping it’s enough for him to end his torture.

But as the phone screen goes black from inactivity, you see his smirking reflection looming over your humiliated one. The only way out is by appeasing him. 

“C-can we reschedule our plans for next week? My…my friend—” 

As soon as the word leaves your mouth, Caleb lifts off of you slightly, landing a harsh smack on your ass.

“Y/N? What was that noise? Are you alright?”

“Yes,” you all but moan as he bites your neck, reprimanding you further for breaking his script. 

“My friend is visiting next week, and he really misses me,” you finish, waiting with bated breath for her—and Caleb’s—reactions. 

“Oh…sure, Y/N. That’s fine with me. That’s a lot better than I was expecting, you sounded like you were in trouble for a second.” Caleb smirks against your ear. “Just let me know when you want to reschedule.”

“Sounds good,” you breathe as Caleb’s thrusts return to a faster pace. “I-I gotta go, I’ll see you later!” you rush, almost squealing as you end the call. 

For the nth time that night, you want to burst into tears. “I can’t believe you just did that,” you whine, your voice mixing with the renewed slaps of skin on skin. 

Chuckling, Caleb lifts off of you, his sudden absence from your cunt making you shudder. In an instant, he flips you over so you’re face-to-face before entering you again. 

“Technically, you just did that,” he smirks, his thrusts now lazy and sporadic. “I don’t remember pressing ‘call.’” His matter-of-fact tone is teasing, but you knew that if you hadn’t canceled on Simone, he’d have made good on his earlier threat. He always does. 

As you open your mouth to retort, Caleb’s face grows serious, and all your neurons responsible for making witty comebacks seem to atrophy at once. 

Caleb leans down, light bites on your throat punctuating his confession. “I can’t stop at wanting you not to run from me anymore. I want you to stay with me. To choose to, for as long as we live, for the next hundred years.” 

“But what if…” you trail off, but he understands what you’d been implying. 

At that, his eyes darken. Rutting into you with renewed fervor, he grasps your chin tightly, holding you captive in his gaze. “You’ll be around for however many years I’m alive and kicking,” he growls. And you believe him. 

Nerves alight, mind numb, and core throbbing from your impending climax, you nod as much as his iron grip allows you to. “I’ll stay,” you whisper, kissing his thumb near your lip. “Wanna stay—with you.” 

Letting out a strangled huff, Caleb surges forward, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. He bites your bottom lip as he presses down on your stomach once again, and you careen over the edge, feeling the hot spurts of his release intensify the flood inside your cunt. 

With a shuttering groan, Caleb collapses to your left, immediately closing the space between you with a hug. You stay like that for a while, your sore body curled into his arms as you face each other on the bed. 

“You okay?” he asks quietly, rubbing circles into your hip. “I know it was a bit much.”

“Forgive you,” you mumble into his chest. “Felt good.”

He chuckles, tapping your nose twice. “You shouldn’t forgive me so easily. Or else I’ll want to keep testing your limits.” 

When you fall asleep in his warm embrace, Caleb looks down at you intently, trying to brand the visual into any part of his commandeered mind that’d take it. Daring to disrupt the image, he gently untangles your bodies, lifting you before laying you back down on top of him. 

At peace for the first time that night, Caleb looks out the window, smiling to himself. The rain has stopped.

[yieldtotemptation]

EASY ft. Yunjin

yunjin x male reader smut

6k words

“Oh, you’re an idiot,” Yunjin decides, stealing yet another one of your fries. “My best friend is an idiot.”

You pull the bowl out of her reach, feeling the need to defend yourself, “You're really calling me an idiot because—”

“Because you have the completely insane opinion that jerking yourself off is better than getting a blowjob. What is wrong with you?”

“They’re overrated! Number of times I’ve cum from a blowjob—zero. Number of times I’ve cum from my own hand—probably thousands!”

“Okay, first—gross, and second—you’re not just an idiot. You are a sad, sad man.”

“I’m just being honest!”                      

Yunjin reaches over, snatches yet another fry. Waves it in front of your face, judging you, before reaching some kind of consensus in her unreasonably pretty head. “You only think that because you've never had a good one.”

“I've had plenty.”

Yunjin's eyes narrow. She crunches.

You swallow hard.

“But you've never had one from me.”

—

Look, you’re pretty sure Yunjin’s full of shit. You’ve known her forever, you’re well versed in her bullshitting ways—she’s got a penchant for stretching out the truth until it’s as elastic as the underwear strap that she just loves to leave sticking out of her jeans.

So, yeah. The girl likes to exaggerate. It’s kind of her job anyway. Make things seem bigger, more dramatic than they really are. Sell the idea of heaven in a three-minute pop song. Sweet lies from lips painted to perfection.

Plump, glossy, pillowy-soft lips that you’ve seen pout and purse and get trapped between her teeth or swiped over by her tongue and—

You get the picture.

“Seriously, the bathroom?” You’re asking, and honestly, you’re trying to give her an out. Waiting for her to take it back, reveal that this is all just an extremely unfunny prank, designed to needle you, make you blush and maybe get a good story to embarrass you in front of her friends with. How she left the silly, naïve hometown boy with his pants around his ankles and his dick in his hand.

Any time now, she’ll point and laugh and make you feel like even more of a fucking idiot when she says, ‘I can’t believe your dumb ass actually followed me in here expecting a blowjob,’ and that’ll be the end of it.

Really. Any time now.

And yet.

Silence as she closes the door behind her, which you feel the need to break with, “Come on, Yunjin, you don’t have to prove anything—"

Yunjin cuts you off—“Oh, but I want to.”

She spins on her heels to face you. Presses her back flush against the door. She turns the lock.

Something in the room shifts. 

Her posture, maybe, or more specifically something in her legs. The way she’s angled herself so that your eyes are drawn to their long creamy expanse, up to the tightness of her thighs, and the way they frame the juncture in between.

Or it’s in the drop of one single shoulder; her half-zipped hoodie sliding down to reveal a sliver of smooth neck, the falling strap of her tank-top, the gentle swell of her chest.

Or maybe it’s just the tilt of her head, her lips all pouty and perfect, and oh, now she’s unzipping the jacket further down and she’s watching you find out in real time that she’s left her midriff bare and uncovered and holy shit her abs are ridiculous and your brain is blue-screening—

This isn’t the Yunjin you know.

The friend, the confidant, the embarrassingly loud chatterbox who raids your fridge and roasts your clothes and has a running commentary on every single woman that enters and very quickly leaves your orbit.

Each ticking second, each subtle movement, she’s starting to look less and less like the girl from your childhood and more and more like the idol that everyone else seems desperate to worship.

She takes a step forward.

Your mouth feels paper-dry.

You lie, “Can’t say you’re off to a great start, then.”

Yunjin raises a perfect brow, and yeah, she doesn’t buy that shit for a second. “What, were you expecting somewhere with a little more ambiance?”

“Well, you’re setting yourself up for failure here,” you retort, some defence mechanism causing you to try to keep things casual, bring it back to more familiar, banter-heavy waters. “Toilets aren’t really a turn-on for me.” 

“Didn’t take you for a romantic,” she teases, but something about her tone—light, playful, less biting than usual, sends you in a tailspin. Your mind grinds to a halt when you realise why. She’s not simply teasing. She’s flirting. And she’s taking another step.

“What can I say, I’m a love before lust kind of guy.”

Yunjin just laughs, something foreign and a little bit wicked. Forces a chill down your spine that you can’t quite explain. She makes those final steps, closing the distance, backing you up against the row of sinks, and—fuck.

She stops right in front of you. Your heart races. You think she can hear it thump.

“Am I making you nervous?” She asks, and it’s all kinds of fucked because now you’re seeing the details; the flecks of honey-brown escaping the coloured contacts that make her eyes pop, the curls at the end of her lashes, reaching out to touch the fluorescent lights overhead. “The thought of my pretty lips wrapped around you putting you on edge?”

And you really thought you knew her mouth; but now she’s jutting out her bottom lip, and it’s fuller than you remembered. As dangerously red as her hair, and Jesus Christ you catch the tremble in them when her eyes flicker down for just a brief instant—right before they return to yours.

She grins.

You aim for unaffected. You miss the mark by a wide margin. "Just don’t want to disappoint you. Putting all this effort in only to be proven wrong by me. Again.”

Yunjin gives you a pitying sigh in response, the sound all honey and smoke, and she makes you flinch when she barely has to move a muscle to place a single finger on your sternum.

She draws a lazy circle on your chest. You hate that you shiver.

“Something tells me that won't be the case,” she’s saying, whisper-quiet now. The circle she’s drawing gets wider, turns into a spiral, and now she’s massaging into your chest, a hand over your heart, and her fingers are getting higher until they’re up to your shoulder, and she’s leaning in so her breath is hot on your neck, and—“It’s going to be filthy. Sloppy. A fucking mess. You’ll never be the same. I’m going to bring you to your knees.”

“I thought the whole idea of this was for you to be kneeling in front of me,” you manage, by some miracle, to keep your voice steady. “Seems like you’re getting ahead of yourself here.”

“All in due time,” she answers, getting her body closer, and you can feel your worser impulses start to involuntarily close the gap between your waists. “I’m not like those other girls. I’m not going to just jump right on your cock and bounce up and down for two minutes. I think you’ve earned yourself a little torture.”

“Then you’re wasting your time.”

“We’ll see about that,” she chides, and her other hand starts to skate down your chest, lower and lower until it stops just short of your pants. Her thumb digs into your waistband. Tugs. Does nothing else.

And maybe there's something there. The denial. The torture. The helplessness. Coming from someone who's always been a little bossy, who you've always let get her way because, hell, she's Yunjin, and she always promised that in the end she'd make it so nice for you.

You’re not sure if you want to find out.

“Yunjin—”

“Don’t be afraid,” she giggles, breaking you out of whatever spell has kept you frozen in place this entire time. “Go ahead, you can touch me too, if you want.”

But it's just as you reach out for her that you’re caught.

Yunjin traps one of your wrists in her grasp, causing you to freeze up all over again. Brings your hand to her mouth. Let’s her eyes flit once—to your face—and again—to your thumb.

She sucks.

Slow, deep, her tongue swirling around the digit as it disappears past her lips and into the warmth of her mouth. Vibrates a ridiculously filthy moan into your knuckle, convincing you for a second that your thumb must be delicious, must be something really fucking sweet for her to be slurping on it like this.

She pulls away, just enough to let the sticky wetness left behind glisten in the light.

Her lips bless the pad. “You’re picturing it, aren’t you?”

And then the next finger; and yeah, you’re transfixed—fascination, horror, painful straining as she does the same dance with your forefinger. Deep, deeper than the thumb could reach, until your nail is scraping at the back of her throat and—

It pops out of her mouth as quick as it entered, and you feel it in your core—the sudden absence. “You’re thinking about it—thinking I might be right. Realising that if I can do this to your fingers—”

You can’t bring yourself to argue. Can’t even bring yourself to speak. You’re too busy watching her mouth, too busy watching your middle finger go all the way in, push down into her throat and holy fuck, she doesn’t even gag.

“It’d feel so much better than anything you ever had. Ever even imagined,” she says, and she’s kissing up and down your finger, staining it fire-engine red. “See, the problem wasn’t that you don’t like blowjobs. It’s that you never once gotten one from a mouth this eager for you.”

And finally, when her teeth graze the tip of your ring finger, and you’re expecting the warmth of her lips once more, she stops.

Grinds her hip into you, forcing you to stab into her abs, and it’s unavoidable now—the pressure of your cock, ready to tear itself out of your jeans and just feel her. Her touch. Her cunt. Her mouth.

She feels it too. Arches her eyebrow—‘I told you so’ on her lips prepped and ready.

You wait under the heat of her gaze, trying not to look because you really don't want to give her the satisfaction. But fuck it’s hard. Each breath feeling like it’s being siphoned out of you, replaced with the scent of her—sweet, suffocating. Intoxicating.

But your eyes turn traitor. And it’s a mistake.

Yunjin squeezes your wrist, steals your attention. Takes your ring and pinkie fingers into her mouth. Pushes them past her lips at the same goddamn time.

Your mind goes completely, utterly blank.

She sucks on them hard, drawing them deep past her lips, devouring them, like they’re the last two drops of water in the desert and she’s just been dying of thirst. Holds your eyes hostage, needing an audience to watch as she makes a show of it; moaning around them, tongue rolling over and around your digits and you’re receiving the message loud and clear—‘You have no idea what you’re in for.’

You feel your knees start to give out.

Your fingers are soaked with her saliva, and the sounds she’s making—deep, throaty, fucking obscene—your body’s being hijacked, all your blood redirected to one painfully obvious place.

It occurs to you that you should just give up now. Tell her she’s proven her point. Your heart’s racing, your chest is tightening, your breath is coming in ragged, desperate bursts. Just tell her you believe her and jump straight to the part where she does her victory dance on top of your cock

If only.

Yunjin sets your fingers free with a smack of her lips, but the heat of her mouth still clings to your skin, lingering with the wetness of her tongue, the promise of something so much better. She kisses a trail around your palm, over the back of your hand, around your wrist.

And then she’s on her toes, and she’s leaning her body into you, using your shoulder for support. Marking your neck, nose nuzzling against the stubble, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around her waist. Pull her closer, give her tongue access to your jaw, your cheek, anywhere she wants.

Her teeth line the bottom of your ear, and she sucks gently at your earlobe, and you swear to fucking God it makes your balls tingle.

She bites. “By the end of this, you’re going to be begging.”

Gets closer still, nestles herself into your embrace, presses her tits against your chest. It's divine, the feeling of her against you, in your arms. So right. A body so tight; slender and grace and so happy to have your arms wrapped around her, so delighted that you've discovered the perfect home for your fingers, because she would absolutely hate to have them anywhere else. On anyone else.

"You won't be able to resist me," she tells you, her breath hot on your skin, making it rise up in goosebumps. And you just nod along, because what could be better than the way she's touching you, the heat she's offering, the things you can already picture her lips doing?

And that’s when she lays it on you—her true endgame in all of this teasing:

“You’re going to want it so badly, you’re going to call me Mommy.”

You nearly push her right off you.

Yunjin just stares straight at you. Dead serious. Heat, intent, fucking determination set upon her awfully pretty features.

“I’m older than you, you know.” You try to laugh it off, but it comes out strained when Yunjin presses herself into you again, and her tongue starts to trace the shell of your ear, and her hand starts to work at your zipper. Touching you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like she’s done it so many times before. Like she’s going to do it so many times again.

“It’s a state of mind, baby,” and she smirks, and there’s a challenge in there. Two doors—try to prove her wrong and walk away, keep your dignity intact. Or just let go, get rid of your pride and fall into a pair of the most tempting, talented, sinful lips that have ever graced your skin.

You don't even get a second to decide.

Her hand’s already at your throat, pulling you close. You let her. Make it easy. Taste the sweetness of her breath, getting a split second to crave her tongue before finally meeting it. Her mouth crashes into yours, and you’re gone.

You kiss her back, breathe her in. Welcome her tongue past your teeth, let it stroke yours, dance in a way that’s far too right for a first time, and it's crazy how she just fits.

She feels, smells, tastes like everything good.

You settle into the reality that this might be the last—only—chance you get.

Face it, you’ve always known who she is—undeniable, goddamn gorgeous, sexy, hot, plain and simple. But this? This is different. You’ve watched it. Yunjin on stage, wearing next to nothing, hips rolling in sync with a thrumming bass, eyes fucking the hell out of the cameras. And you’ve fantasised about it. But it's always felt so fucking far-fetched. She's always felt so impossibly out of reach.

Intangible, since the day she debuted. Ascended to some place that you could never join.

But now.

She’s come back down, just for this. Just to reclaim something that's always been hers.

She moans something nice into your mouth when she feels you pushing back against her. Her hand finally dips beneath your waistband. Finds you eager. Desperate.

But then she pulls away.

Eyes widen, fucking laughs.

“Oh, you’re such an asshole.”

You blink. “What?”

She reaches back, hands careful. Like she’s defusing a bomb. Her fingers peel down the zipper of your pants, and then yank down the stretched-out cotton of your briefs, and you’re set free.

Hard. Aching. Throbbing.

Hers.

“Asshole,” she repeats.

You don’t even know what the fuck.

“Christ, it suddenly makes sense,” she says to herself, but doesn’t bother elaborating. No, instead, she just reaches back down, wraps her fingers around you and gives you a little squeeze. Tests the water. Feels the way your cock jumps under her touch.

Your knuckles turn white against the sink behind you, and Yunjin smiles again when she realises you’re going to let her do whatever she wants.

And so her hand starts moving. Slowly. Gently.

She kisses you again, for just a moment, and then lower, and lower. Stroking you as she maps her way down your body with her lips. Feather-light against your skin, touch hot on your cock, dragging it out, building the anticipation.

Stopping when she’s on her knees. Breathing on your cock.

You hiss in a breath.

Yunjin lets go. Takes off her jacket. Tightens her ponytail. Blinks up at you. And fuck. Her chin tipped just so. Her cheeks flushed. Her eyes alone making you strain.

Her lips part, and you find yourself nodding before she even says a single word.

“I’m going to take care of you now,” she whispers into your skin, kissing into your thigh. It’s warm, soft, wet. Excruciating. She’s so close to where you need her mouth to be, but so fucking far.

Her fingers trace patterns up and down your shaft, dancing over your cock. Not touching, never. Just teasing. Torment that has you squirming, and she’s basking in it, tracking every twitch, loving every desperate gasp.

“You’re mine,” Yunjin mutters, as her mouth travels up your thigh, and your muscles start to shake. You could just grab her, it’d be so easy. Just take her by the hair, force her to give you want you want. But something stops you. Afraid of breaking this moment. Anticipating what’s to come. 

Your oxygen's running low, barely breathing, can’t stop yourself from panting when her teeth scrape along your hipbone, and your cock jumps in response, nearly slapping her right in the face.

But fuck, Yunjin’s a sadist. She kisses around your waist, her tongue darting out to taste your skin, exhaling hot and steamy air against your balls. You're dripping, beading at the tip, and it’s all so, so obvious.

The wait is agony. Pure agony.

Yunjin gives you a small mercy. Her hand wraps around you again, and for an instant you’re terrified that the touch alone would be the end of it.

But thankfully, you outlast. Yunjin strokes you lightly, her grip firm but gentle. Loving. Wresting control over you, your cock. So fucking hard already, you’re surprised you haven’t torn the sink off the wall yet.

And then, oh fuck, she’s kissing closer. Your abs, your belly button. Lower, lower, breath hot on your cock, closer, closer, please.

You can’t take it anymore. You need her. You need this.

“Yunjin,” and any other time you would hate yourself for how embarrassingly needy it comes out.

“Admit you were wrong,” Yunjin says, and you’re ready to scream it, tell her you’ve never been more wrong about anything in your entire life. Anything to feel her lips. “Admit that there’s no way your hand could ever be better than this.”

“Yes,” you grit out, and it’s a fucking miracle you can form words at all. “You were right. I was wrong.”

She’s baring teeth now, and her lips are ghosting over your cock head and you just need her.

“Please.”

“Say it.”

“I can't—”

“Do it.”

“Mommy.”

And then—

Her mouth is on you.

Wet, hot, heaven. Taking you in slow, eyes paying attention to your every flinch, the agonising twists across your face. Trained on all your strained reactions. Savouring it. Reading you like a book—every page turned with a flick of her tongue, every paragraph devoured with a swirl of her cheeks.

Slow, so slow. Deliberate. Perfect suction. Just enough to make your toes curl, to have your hips buck in her mouth. Convincing you that everything before, everything you ever had, whatever you believed was a blowjob—was all a fucking lie.

No one ever felt like this.

Your fingers release the sink, find their natural place in her hair, threading through the red, letting it knot around your digits. And there's the urge again. Tug, pull, make her go faster, make her understand that she’s already won so you might as well fuck without abandon, but you don’t dare. You don’t want to ruin this. Not when she seems so satisfied.

Cheeks hollowing out with every suck, smiling around your cock, basking in some kind of pleasure you can’t even comprehend—because she’s the one doing the giving here.

And then when she sinks, finally pushes your cock to the back of her throat and further down. Presses her nose to your waist and holds you there. Stealing your breath, the air from your lungs, forcing a deep, guttural ‘Fuck’ from your gut.

You reach your conclusion. Her lips are made for this. Made to fit around your cock perfectly, to slide up and down with the fucking unapologetically sloppy noises that make the room spin. That it’s only her throat that can take you deeper than you ever thought possible, that can constrict and tighten around you so nice. That no other mouth could be this warm, hot, welcoming, fucking right.

She pulls back. A long, long draw that leaves a fucking mess. Globs of spit, drool, pre-cum hanging off your cock, from her lips.

“This poor, poor cock,” she sighs, like it’s such a great tragedy. “Never had anyone treat it right. Like the treasure it is.”

She shows you what she means, demonstrates how to properly worship your cock. Lips brushing along your shaft, pecking gentle kisses along your length, tongue snaking out to lick off her own spit.

Her hand slides under your balls, cupping them, balancing them in her palm. Holding them in place when she points your cock up so she can duck underneath. Nuzzle her nose into your waist, lap her tongue at your base, get her lips right where you’re most sensitive.

Pleasing you like she’s always wanted to. Making you believe that maybe she has. Maybe this is something she’s been thinking about all this time; every time she’s seen you, seen the way you looked at her, heard you tell stories of the other women that only ever disappointed you with their mouths.

Not knowing that she was the one that could make you fucking levitate this entire time.

“This was always going to happen,” Yunjin says. Starting to stroke you again, her grip a little tighter this time, a little more possessive. Looking up at you through her lashes, red lipstick smudged off the corner of her mouth. “One way or another, I was always going to have this.”

And her tongue is everywhere. Laving around the base of your cock, making you feel it all the way to your toes. Not done with the teasing, the unbearably slow burn that’s going to drive you insane.

Her mouth opens wide. She takes one of your balls into her mouth. Surrounds it in soft, wet heat. Sucking—not hard, not yet, just enough. Enough to make you bite down and grind your teeth. Squeeze your eyes shut—not that it even helps. You can feel her tongue rolling around, coating your balls in a warm stickiness. Soothing. Torturous. So fucking good.

She lets out a soft hum, and the vibration nearly sends you over the edge.

Yunjin lets go with a pop, and you swear you can hear your soul sigh in relief and despair. “God, this cock,” she murmurs, “Wish you had told me, shown it to me sooner.”

The way she says it—like you could even fathom what you’ve been missing out on. Years of this? Years of her mouth on you? Years of her making you feel like the only thing that matters in this fucking world is impaling your cock into the most insanely hot and wet and tight hole you’ve ever felt?

The look on Yunjin’s face answers every single question for you.

Yes. Yes to all of it.

“Could have been doing this every fucking day,” she muses, and you let out some choked gasp, and her lips are kissing into your slit again. Then her tongue, then lower, and she’s taking you deep. So deep you’re pretty sure you can feel her fucking heartbeat through her throat.

She holds you there. One, two, three. Letting her tongue drool down your shaft, letting it drip over your balls and splash down between her knees.

Pulls back, lets go, catches her breath.

Spits on your cock.

“Imagine,” she speaks, even though her mouth is a fucking disaster, lips swollen, just a glossy smudge of red. “Just waking up to me sucking this, getting it all nice and hard and throbbing.”

It’s not difficult at all to see it. You can feel it. Tongue flattening against the underside of your cock, the swallow as she’s taking you in, the cheeks fixing around the edges with each bob. Just so fucking messy. Soaking your cock, letting these garbled, choked, slick, filthy noises echo off the bathroom walls.

“This would ruin me, you know that don’t you? Ruin my cunt,” she tells you. “Ruin Mommy’s tight little cunt so fucking nicely.”

“Fuck you, Yunjin,” is the best you can muster, which is impressive considering your brain cells are dying off one by one from the lack of oxygen.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d love that.”

“Of course I would,” you admit, and then continue admitting, “I’ve always fucking wanted to.”

“I know,” Yunjin admits back, and that sets her off. Her mouth goes to work again, your cock disappearing into her, her hand getting just that little bit faster, and fuck, fuck, fuck, she’s got it all wrong.

She’s the one that’s going to ruin you. Going to make you forget every other orgasm you ever had.

There'll be no room for anything in your head but just thoughts of fucking her. Raw, rough; again and again until she's completely filled up with you and even then.

“Been dreaming of it,” you groan out, as Yunjin’s pace builds, and there’s the beginning of tears lining her eyes, and she’s gagging more often than not, and it compels you to keep telling her, “Been dreaming of your tight fucking body. What I’d do to get my hands on that slutty little waist. Just dig in my fingers and pound into that cunt. God I know it would feel so good.”

Deeper and deeper, until she doesn’t even need to use her hands anymore. Just to steady your legs, to keep you still while she fucks your cock with her throat.

And it’s these images you’re drawing up in her mind. How you’d pay her back, how you’d make her scream, how’d you do the same to her and more. Wreck her with your cock until she never seeks another again. Make sure that her lips, her cunt, her body belong to only you. That’s what’s driving her now, making her eyes water, making her cheeks go red and her throat bulge.

That’s what has her hand snaking down between her thighs, forcing open the button of her shorts, stretching the waistband of her panties to their limits. Just so she can touch herself. To feed into the heat building in her cunt and the wetness leaking down her legs.

You can feel her, mouth tightening around you as she teases herself. Feel the accidental swipe of her teeth when it gets too much. She’s rubbing her clit in circles, matching the tempo of her bobbing head.

Fuck, the sight alone.

Hand disappearing into her shorts, getting down and into herself, and she’s so fucking pretty, even when her face is scrunched up in the worst of pleasures, even when she’s choking on your cock.

And you think there’s laughter around the gags, or at least a smile against your skin when you throb, jerk, fuck her mouth. She’s enjoying this. The power, the pleasure she can wrench from you. You’re getting off, sure, but it’s all for her. All to prove her point.

And she’s fucking winning.

“Tell me,” she gurgles when she’s at your head, mouth bubbling at the corners with a cocktail mix of her sloppiness and your arousal. “Tell me how good it feels.”

“Shit, Yunjin, it feels—”

“Actually, fuck that, tell me it’s better,” Yunjin decides, and she seems so fucking pleased with herself that you want to hate her. But it’s so hard to deny those big fucking eyes that anchor you to the ground, those ridiculously plump lips that suck any argument right out of your throat. “Better than your hand. Better than any other mouth. Tell me it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to your cock. Be a good boy and tell me I’m better.”

You groan, or whimper, or cry, or make some noise that makes Yunjin just so fucking ecstatic, makes her swoon and nearly come apart on her own fingers. “So much fucking better, Yunjin. Jesus, your lips. Perfect for this. Perfect, cock-sucking lips. Hot mouth. Your fucking throat taking me so nice.”

“Use it,” Yunjin opens her mouth, stretches her lips as far as they'll go, showing you, sticking out her tongue and giving you an insight into your own end. “Use it like the toy it’s always been for you. Fuck it, fuck me. Use my lips, my mouth, my throat. Make me choke until you think I can't take it and then give me even more.”

“You’re fucking insane.”

“And you’re about to make a mess.”

Yeah, you’re properly doomed.

God it’s so fucking cruel. How Yunjin doubles down, mouth swallowing you whole. So fast and deep that you don’t understand how you’re still on your feet. Just watching her throat pulse, convulse, her eyes bulge when you rut inside her and she just won’t stop.

“You’re so fucking good, Yunjin, so good, you’re a—fuck—you’re a—” Only one word comes straight to mind, "Cumslut."

Yunjin preens. Looks up, lashes fluttering. Sounding so girly that it makes everything seem even more debauched and depraved. “Aren’t I? Aren’t I so good for you?”

You grunt out, “You already fucking know.”

Yunjin’s hand returns to the fold, jerking your cock into her lips, because your own personal catastrophe’s on the horizon. It’s coiling in your balls, tightening up, a spring ready to snap.

And, oh, how Yunjin would love to be the one that snaps it.

“You’re not going to be able to go back. Never. No one else will be able to take this big fucking cock like this. No one can be as much of a cumslut for you.”

You’re fucking falling apart. Yunjin’s mouth is a vice. Hot, heavenly, sloppy vice that’s squeezing the last drops of sanity from your brain. She just keeps fucking doing it—taking you so deep until your cock’s lost down her throat, over and over again. And it’s building and getting closer and closer to disaster and every nerve ending in your body is just begging for release.

“Give in,” she slurs around your girth, barely coherent, mouth full of you. Pumping your cock faster, until it’s throbbing and aching so desperately and angrily, and her words are sounding nicer and nicer with every passing beat. “Give up. Give me that cum. All of it.  Cum for me. Make Mommy happy. Give me what I want. Give me what I need. Give me—”

“Shut the fuck up and take it—”

“Be a good boy and beg—”

“Fuck you—”

You’re straining, for the first time lifting your hips off the sink and falling into her. Hands holding onto her head—and now her hair is just a handlebar, and you're riding her mouth for dear life, fucking into it like she doesn't have a choice. Using her, making her take you, over and over, again and again, and she’s just so happy to keep fingering herself into oblivion while you lose all tempo and pace and forcefully, clumsily wreck her throat.

Until you’re just seeing red.

Red of her hair, her lips. Red smudged up and down your cock and against your waist and all over your fucking fingers.

And then—

“Fuck you—Mommy!”

You can see it in her eyes.

You can feel it in every nerve ending.

You can taste it in the air.

It’s harsh, mean, rough. Pounding into her mouth, stretching her throat, until her nails are digging into your thighs and you’re shaking, twitching, fucking—

Cumming.

You empty yourself into her. Yunjin doesn’t flinch. She takes it. Every pulse of your orgasm, every drop of your cum. Swallows it down with a greedy gulp, again and again, until she can’t swallow anymore.

It gushes out of her mouth.

A thick rope that she can’t quite keep up with that paints those gorgeous fucking lips. Her cheeks and chin. Drips down to her neck. So fucking beautiful. Covered with your cum all over her face, and now down to her shoulder, her collarbone, and oh you’ve ruined her entire slutty outfit.

“God, fuck, Yunjin—”

And she’s dropping her pussy down onto her fingers, panting around your cock, around mouthfuls of your cum. Working her clit in quick, sharp movements until it’s just your hand tangled in her hair that’s keeping her upright.

This fucking image of her.

Mouth full of you, swallowing, choking, gagging. So fucking obscene you can’t look away. Eyes rolled back into her skull, cheeks are flaming, and she’s so shiny and wet and glazed over, and just a complete fucking mess for you.

You can’t imagine anything better.

It leaves you reeling. Standing there with your cock still out. Shaking from aftershocks that you’re not sure will ever end. Trying to catch your breath, chest heaving, eyes blurring back into clarity while you watch Yunjin return to life.

“Good boy,” she breathes, but it’s hardly smug. It’s just pure victory.

She opens her mouth. Smiles so wide. Shows you her prize. Shows you the mess she’s made, shows you everything. Moans at the taste of it, as she absorbs your flavour into her tongue. Completely dazed, mouth fucked to hell, and just strung-out and drunk on your cum. She finds the energy to swipe her tongue around her teeth, cleaning the best she can. She barely makes a dent.

And you’re still hard. Still fucking throbbing.

Her eyes never leave yours. She wants you to see.

She grins, and you're already expecting it, the victory speech. Something no doubt flirty and teasing and completely fucking filthy that will make you want to throw her over the sink and punish her tight, drenched cunt until she's the one begging and calling you Daddy.

Only, that all gets tossed out when you hear someone banging on the bathroom door.

“Everything okay in there?”

The sudden intrusion brings everything back into focus, seizes you back into a reality outside of Yunjin's cum-stained lips.

You clear your throat.

“I’m sorry, it’s my,” and you look down and Yunjin’s beaming up at you. Looking so perfect, kneeling on the cold tiles. Streaks of your cum hanging off her chin. She blows you a kiss. “My girlfriend. Just needed some immediate attention.”

And Yunjin decides to up the ante, leaning back into you. Snaking her arms around your thigh. Kissing into where you’re still so ridiculously sensitive. And then licking and sucking and—

It takes an impossible amount of effort to not scream at the top of your lungs. “We’ll be out soon, just need a couple—”

Yunjin shakes her head. Shows you both hands. Flashes all fingers.

“Ten—”

Shakes her head once more. Flashes again.

“Twenty?”

Yunjin nods.

“Twenty minutes.”

There’s a pause on the other side of the door, and you realise that this is all fucking out of control and completely unbelievable.

But still.

Yunjin’s tongue is setting you on fire, and God she’s kissing up higher, rising to her feet and she's covering every inch of your skin that she has yet to leave her mark.

You whisper-shout at her, “They’re going to break this door down.”

Yunjin laughs, and there’s no way whoever is outside the bathroom doesn’t hear it.

She removes her ruined top. Lets her bra fall to the ground. Steps out of her drenched panties. She looks like perfection.

“That’s fine,” she says, and she’s taking a hold of you, kissing you, and you can taste yourself on her lips and fuck, she’s winning again—“But you’re going to break me first.”

[hungharrington]

show-time

request: i cannot stop thinking about asking steve if he ever got himself off to you before you got together. he’d be so blushy and sheepish about it but man it’d be fun to watch him squirm 🤤

2.1k words, established relationship, masturbation (steve), gn!reader, MDNI this entire blog is 18+

It’s a universally awkward experience to have a sex-scene come on in a movie. Unless one’s watching it alone, of course.

You are not. Cuddled in behind you, cushioning you against his chest, Steve lounges, his eyes fixed on the screen.

Sure, in terms of awkwardness-rankings, watching this with your boyfriend who you also have sex with isn’t as bad as, like, watching with parents.

But still. You kinda can’t tell if you should be watching or averting your eyes — and you don’t want to peek over your shoulder to figure out what Steve’s doing.

The man in the film grunts, his hand in his pants jerking furiously, his eyes fixed on a polaroid of the film’s love interest.

You squint—surely this is stretching the truth a bit?

Yeah, yeah, guys jerk off, you know that - this isn’t your first day on earth.

You just didn’t think it would be like, romantic style. People in movies kiss in the rain and run through airports, so they’re hardly known for being grounded in reality.

The man in the film groans lewdly and you feel Steve shift slightly behind you, his fingers looped around your middle twitching.

Did he-? When you-? You suppose you’ve never really thought about it.

You’re asking before you can second guess yourself.

“Did you do this?”

Steve’s attention switches idly from the screen to you as you crane your neck to look back at him. His brows pinch together.

“Did I do what?” He asks, doting brown eyes searching your face.

You fluster a bit. This is certainly moving you up through the awkwardness rankings. But now it’s in your head —now you’ve said it — you can’t turn back.

The thought of it blazes hotly through your mind.

Steve, all those months ago, still just crushing on you, but never quite making a move. He’d told you, whispered his secret, when you’d finally gotten the nerve to ask him to be your boyfriend officially, that he’d been sweet on you far longer than you knew.

But the image of it is what has you interested. You imagine Steve, his fist stuffed into his tight jeans, working himself over and biting his fist to hide his moans, at the mere thought of you.

You’d had plenty of long, late night conversations on the phone before officially getting together.

The thought of if he’d ever touched himself while you talked, none the wiser on the other end, wanders into your mind — and your stomach clenches hotly at the thought.

Clearing your throat, you tip your head towards the screen.

“Like, before we got together?”

It takes Steve another glance at the screen to realise what you’re asking. A simmering, pink colour crawls up his neck and in a moment, you go from feeling awkward to feeling downright devious.

Steve clears his throat, his eyes darting rapidly back and forth from the screen to your face. “Uh, I- I mean, why do you ask?”

A coy smile curls at your mouth. “I wanna know how accurate it is.”

Steve stares down at you, the pink now creeping up his cheeks and to the tips of his ears. God, he looks delectable like this.

Is this how he looked when he did it too? Blushy and embarrassed to commit such a filthy act thinking of someone that wasn’t his? A hot buzz drizzles through your core, fringed with endearment.

Steve licks his lips nervously. His hands on your stomach stiffen and then relax. The film plays on in the background. His expression shifts towards something sheepish.

“It’s — I, uh, well, yes.” He stammers. “It’s accurate, yes.”

“How many times?”

Steve’s eyes narrow, but his face gets redder. “What is this, an interrogation now?”

You giggle, drinking in his evidently embarrassed state. The confirmation of him doing it solidifies the perfect image of him in your mind, your own film-scene imagining Steve in the same position as the character on screen. In real life, Steve moves his hand to tug at the collar of his shirt.

“I’m just… enjoying the idea of it.” You muse.

“Uh huh,” Steve says, tongue jammed into the side of his cheek. “Not just—” He fumbles for his words. “Just enjoying seeing me, I don’t know, like—”

His words trail off and his head tips back with a groan, exposing the delicious expanse of his throat. It begs you for kisses and love bites. He moves both hands up to cover his face.

You wait til he pulls them away to nod. “Absolutely, baby. Watching you squirm is far more interesting than this film.”

In the background, the man on screen gives a pornographic shout as he finishes in his pants. Steve manages to turn redder, even if he keeps his eyes fixed on you.

“But I’m just,” You huff and pout. “Put out, I guess. You did all that for me and I didn’t even get to see it.”

At the exact same time, you watch as Steve’s pupils dilate, blowing out in obvious lust, and something pressed against your back thickens up.

Steve, to his credit, only makes one strained noise which he immediately smothers with a cough. You feel his hips twitch beneath you and make a quick decision, confidence built on the sweltering heat of Steve’s face.

You push forward and up, then quickly turn, slotting your knees across either side of Steve’s thighs, perching atop them nicely.

You’re not outright in his lap—there’s room between the two of you for what you hope will happen.

It takes Steve another long moment to catch your drift.

“Wait, you want-?” He inhales sharply. You can see the twitch of his cock through his loose sweatpants. “To see?”

“To watch,” You clarify, smiling almost mischievously. “Yeah.”

Then just to check, “Is that okay?”

Steve’s breath shudders out of him but he’s nodding before the question is completely out of your mouth.

“H-Here?” He checks. You nod, resting your hands atop your thighs to show you don’t plan on using them. Steve’s hungry eyes scan you up and down, the tent in his pants pitching up in arousal.

“Just show me how you did it,” You murmur, words on the side of sultry. Your own excitement, that faint thrum of pleasure, has already started to pool low in your gut.

“Yeah, but I normally don’t have an audience for it,” Steve mumbles, his left-hand reaching for the drawstrings of his sweats.

They come undone with a simple tug. Steve stretches the elastic out a bit and then slips his hand in.

You know the moment his large hand settles around his cock from the flutter of his lashes, the soft groan that curls out his throat, rough and sweet all at once.

This… This is new. You usually don’t get such a focused look at Steve’s pleasure, at the little shifts in his expression, too wrapped up in your own pleasure to pay proper attention. Getting this much detail sends a delicious throb between your thighs. You hardly want to blink.

Steve’s hand moves slow to begin with, slow, gentle strokes to get himself properly warmed up.

After a moment, he draws his hand back and some part of you worries he’s too weirded out now. But he only brings it up, to his mouth, and you realise what he’s doing.

Quickly stealing his hand, Steve’s eyes widen as you let spit drop from your lips and pool in his palm. Another soft, jagged noise drags from his throat.

“Jesus Christ,” He murmurs, more to himself. “This is not what it’s like when it’s just me, this is, like, ten fucking times hotter.”

His hand sneaks back into his sweatpants but this time when he grips his cock, the reaction this time is immediate.

Steve moans, louder this time, his eyes crushing closed and his hand starts moving faster. With the help of your spit, it doesn’t take long before you can hear it, the slick sounds of him fucking his cock desperately.

His head tips back against the couch and a piece of hair flops over, into his eyes.

You reach out and brush it to the side and Steve’s eyes crease open at the same time a whine threads through his moans.

“Fuck,” He grunts. He sinks in teeth into his bottom lip, his eyes desperately roaming your face. “Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty.”

“That what you thought bout?”

You’re impressed with yourself for the cool, calm demeanour you’re portraying. Steve nods, the motion a little wild, his hand still making those lewd, wet noises.

“Uh huh,” His voice shakes a little. “Just, fuck, dunno, like, your face and-uh-what y-you’d sound like.”

Your eyes glitter with interest, ego raring at the devotion your boyfriend is spilling out.

“What I’d sound like?”

“Y-Yeah,” Steve stammers, his breathing heavy. “Like, doing this.”

Now that’s a picture; Steve jerking off to the thought of you, hot and bothered with your hand between your thighs. You give a breathy gasp without meaning to.

Steve hears it, groaning louder as he quickens his pace. You sort of want to reach forward and ruck up his shirt, so you can see the glorious clench of his stomach as he rolls his hips up into his warm hand.

“Can I see more?” You ask tentatively. “Please?”

This time, it’s more like a whimper that creeps out of Steve’s throat.

“Oh my god,” Steve mumbles through a stilted moan. “Jesus Christ. Yeah, yeah, of course.”

He swallows heavily, his free hand reaching down to push at his waistband. You help, lifting up to help tug the fabric out of the way.

Obstructions removed, your mouth salivates. Steve’s cock is pretty — and it looks that much more enticing when it’s worked up, pink and the tip of it leaking all over his hand.

Steve’s a fucking vision. His head still lolled back, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. His throat, dotted with moles, crawling with pinkness. His big, veiny hand wrapped around his cock, pumping it steadily.

You think about how much you’d like the lick the trail of hair on his tummy, down, down, down.

“You seem close,” You say and it earns you a reedy whimper in response. “Is it- does it normally happen this fast?”

“Are you kidding me?” Steve whispers back. His eyes are closed and after a moment, you realise he’s trying to keep himself from cumming too quickly, even as his hand doesn’t slow. “I—ngh— n-normally don’t have such good, ah, material. My imagination is— is not this good.”

You’re equal parts flattered and flustered, heat twinging in your gut.

“Can— can I?” Steve whimpers out suddenly.

The question nearly throws you. You almost say Can you what? when the meaning of it douses you in fire.

He’s asking permission.

Oh, that does something to you.

“Yeah, Stevie,” You say, voice lilting closer to a coo. “I wanna see it, please.”

Something shifts in his motions, changing gear as Steve’s hand suddenly starts moving in smaller, tighter strokes, just over the head of his cock. His head tucks forward, his eyes scrunched closed, and he’s whimpers out, “thank you, thank you, thank you.”

It only takes a few seconds, the whine in Steve’s voice pitching higher and higher, until something gives.

His hips take over, something desperate and primal shoving them up, his thrusts rapid and frantic. His hand doesn’t stop moving, not even as his cock starts to leak out ropes of cum, shooting out enough to cover the back of his knuckles. It joins your spit to rub slick against his cock.

He keens pitifully. For one long minute, you listen to Steve’s breathy whines get softer and softer, watch his desperate thrusts abate til an overstimulated shiver wracks through his body. Then, and only then, does he collapse back, sinking into the couch.

He’s a bit ruined, truthfully.

And you’ve soaked through your panties.

“You’re welcome,” You croak, throat dry. His hair is back in his eyes and lean forward, tenderly brushing it out of the way. You leave your hand there, cupping the side of his face, and Steve leans into it, still panting.

“What?” He asks.

“You were thanking me,” You point out cheekily.

Steve’s face plunges back to that scarlet colour you’re beginning to adore most ardently. He turns his face further to hide away in the palm of your hands.

“Shut up,” He mumbles.

“So you don’t wanna do that again?” You tease.

Steve pulls back and eyes you. “Now, hang on, I didn’t say that…”

[madewithsilk]

Virgin!reader x toxic gf!ellie

She pressures reader to have sex with her and she’s really rough with her even when reader asks her to be gentle

(Btw I love your writing so much 🩷)

— ᴛᴏxɪᴄ!ᴇʟʟɪᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍꜱ 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ; ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ɢꜰ ᴇʟʟɪᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍꜱ x ᴠɪʀɢɪɴ (ꜰ!) ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴄᴡ; ᴇꜱᴛᴀʙʟɪꜱʜᴇᴅ ʀʟꜱʜɪᴘ, ᴅᴜʙ ᴄᴏɴ, ꜱᴛʀᴀᴘ ᴏɴ

Ellie believes she has been more than patient. She notices the flicker of fear and the shadows of disagreement that cross your face whenever she brings having sex up, and she chalks it up to the norm. After all, it's only natural to feel apprehensive about the first time; she experienced those nerves herself. Yet, as she watches you, a wave of hunger washes over her, making it all the more enticing to bridge the gap between you and her. The way you lay in bed, watching TV, panties visible the her. She nearly swears you're doing it on purpose. It makes her think of all the times you were so needy but refused to have sex. She could hear you cumming on your pillow at least three times in one night while she stayed in the living room.

She wanted to keep being the slow-moving and forbearing lover, keeping to her promises of giving you as much time as needed and hiding how she truly felt. But her patience has always had limits.

She shuffles into the bedroom, a hand running through her hair. She was forming a script of words she’d whisper at you to finally bring you over the edge and give in. Your gaze shifts onto her, closing your thighs with a small redness on your cheeks. Ellie crawls onto the bed besides you, slipping one of her arms around your face to turn you and face her. Your puppy-like eyes stare up at her, an incoming pout forming. Her free hand strokes your cheek, a moment of intimate silence before she speaks up.

“How are you feeling, babe?” She whispers, thumb tracing circles on your hip. You grumble under your breath, being held flush against Ellie. Your eyes would dart around on her face, her tattoos. Your thighs clenched together. "Bit sleepy, just couldn't fall asleep." You huffed.

Ellie tuts, moving strands of hair out of your face in faux sympathy. "Poor baby," She begins, slipping a leg between your thighs, catching you by suprise. Your hands rested on her chest defensively, nodding. "Need help going to sleep?" You had an idea of what she could be suggesting, but you trusted her to respect your wishes, so you nodded again and asked "How?"

A smile ends up painted on Ellie's lips, refraining from rocking her knee against your clothed cunt just yet. “Y’know,” Her hands wander away from your hips and face, instead groping your tits in implication. You couldn't have shaken your head quicker, brows furrowing. Your hands pushed against Ellie's chest but she just held you closer. "Shh, shh, c'mon. It'll help you go to bed in no time, baby."

Your breathing was slightly uneven, biting your bottom lip. You wanted to sleep, but it was just so soon in your mind for sex. "I'll be so, so gentle, baby." You trusted Ellie, or at least you wanted to. Yet, you still denied the consistent offer. "No– Ellie, I'm not ready.." She rolls her eyes, body now above yours on the bed. She was caging you in. "Don't you wanna make me happy?" Her statement gave you a moment of contemplation. You feared her leaving if you didn't give her what she wanted soon enough.

“You promise you’ll be gentle?” Ellie keeps one hand besides your head on the bed, the other one reaching her pinky out to you childishly. “Pinky promise.” When your finger interlocked with hers, a small leaving your lips at the gesture, her hands went straight to undressing herself. She hovered above you, her belt undone right before you. You couldn't help but whimper, her boxers just begging to be taken off.

Your fingertips trace the waistband, seeing her already having a strap underneath. It slightly threw you off, wondering if she had planned this, but you didn't have much time to keep thinking when she fully tugged them down. The silicone dick was girthy, her palm encasing it and stroking it as if it were real. “Not gonna fit, Els..” She scoffed, kissing you to shut you up while removing your shirt and hiking up your skirt to reveal your panties and take those off too.

You responded to the kiss with fervor, hands tangling in her hair and groaning into the kiss alongside her. She didn't even reach down to play with your clit nor stretch you out with her fingers, lining up her cock to your entrance. Your tongue was exploring her mouth and she held you closer.

When you felt it stretch you completely, Ellie immediately buried herself to the hilt, you broke the kiss. Your eyes were wide, a bit of pain in your expression. Ellie groaned, hand resting on your throat as she began to thrust inside you. You whimpered, squeamish from the pain and incoming pleasure. She moaned into your neck now, hand pressing against your lower tummy so you could feel all of her inside you. “Fuckk— you don’t know how long I’ve needed this,”

You clawed at her back, head thrown against the mattress. Her pace was unrelentless and you felt the tip nudging your cervix. She pulled back from your neck, grasped your thighs, and kept pumping her dick into your sopping cunt. Tears welled in your eyes, it felt so good but it was so unwarranted. “Ellie— so- s’mean!” You whimpered, huffing and panting.

Your vision got blurry from both the tears and how her cock made your head swirl, you were filled to the brim. “Fuck, don’t- don’t cry, baby,” She was gasping for air, and even as you got closer and closer, she kept ramming the strap inside you. The sound of squelching and skin-slapping bounced off the walls, a knot forming deep in your tummy. “You’re dripping on me, baby, I can’t be that mean?” She chuckled breathlessly.

Your eyes were basically rolled to the back of your head, tongue lolling out. You wanted so badly to be mad and yell, but you couldn’t do much, just babble incoherent words. Your mouth was nearly completely slack, “Fuck— Els, can’t, can’t ta-take—“ She hummed, nodding and letting you ramble.

“You can, can take everything I give you, going so fuckin’ dumb,” She kept pounding into you, she swears she can feel you clench around her dick. You couldn’t stop squirming, back arching, she held you right in place while fucking you through your orgasm. She slithered a hand between your thighs to rub circles on your clit, throwing you over the edge and cumming all over her

Her pace slowed down, instead giving harsher, deeper thrusts as you came down from the high. Ellie pulled the silicone cock out, resting it on your abdomen with the white ring of cream you left on it. She swiped sweaty strands of hair off your forehead, kissing it gently. She noticed the upset front you put on, her pride too high to say sorry.

Instead, she whispers sweetly in your ear, “You’ll forgive me, right?”

[aialsposts]

Absolutely LOVING the use of Mabel’s slang and Ford’s slight hesitation but willingness to adapt because like. Those kids talked like old timers in the show (likely just from being around one for a while)

so you KNOW they came back when in high school with Dipper saying stuff like “I’m about to absolutely crash out on Robbie this time. MABELLL?? WHERE’S YOUR GRAPPLING HOOK-“

And Mabel saying stuff like

“Slay the house down mama!!” And “you better WALK that DUCK” and even Dipper is like,,

“So from what I gather this is… a way of her saying essentially you’re doing really well and your outfit is so good it could…kill her??? I think??”

And it’s also a lot of Ford finally caving and begging for a presentation from Dipper about their generation’s Slang. Mabel has to be Dipper’s project partner; while he initially didn’t want to drag her into this, unfortunately he hit a wall in his research where he fully couldn’t see the connection, and Mabel was completely overexcited to oblige.

First half of the presentation:

Very well put together slides, including graphics here and there introducing a timeline for when said slang started taking off, Dipper’s theories as to *why* certain slang rose more popularly/had longer “staying power”, and even some older slang from Ford’s generation that roughly translates to something modern. “I’m gonna crash out on ___” roughly equals “you’re cruising for a bruising, pal”

While the other half was essentially:

*disorganized bright colors and really hard to read print over graphics that don’t really technically go with what’s being talked about?? From what Ford can gather??*

The first presentation is an absolute disaster, but after finally setting aside their differences to create a better, much more comprehensive presentation, it ends up with Dipper learning a lot more lingo, too (for better or worse, you decide lmao), and having Mabel do more of the sort of explaining to Dipper (he did the graphics and visuals this time, it hurt his SOUL to see his sister’s side of the presentation BDJSVDJ) and Mabel helped Dipper grapple with the connotations of lingo a little more. For some reason the worse it sounds it seems to mean?? Something better?? It confuses him just as much as it does Ford, and Ford really starts to see ‘tism signs in Dipper as he slowly realizes how much Dipper is just like him growing up (like. Dude’s REALLY trying to understand “slay” “yass” “queen” and he gets that down and Mabel’s like “alright, beginner level over, now, what does, “slay the house down boots mama!” Mean?”

Even adding her extravagant gestures to the slang, which, to his credit, surprised Dipper because normally body language helps but like. Mabel body language and “what the culture’s feeling” aren’t exactly the same thing. He couldn’t, for the LIFE of him, figure out whether or not the gestures were actually included— as in, used by anyone other than just Mabel— and he was in fact wrong because it turns out the gestures ARE important, but there’s also varying LEVELS of importance.

Like the more emphasis (more ‘cartoony’/fluid/exaggerated the movement, the more the person REALLY fucking means it, no matter how little or how much emphasis they put into their voice (kinda going against his autism’s way of learning because like. Tones are?? So important I thought??? Why does this not apply here??)

Genuinely once they’ve presented all the information, and Ford gets a better idea of it, they’re all ready to just end this information exchange,,, until Stan walks in and overhears Dipper say to Mabel, “I think we slayed this presentation”

To which the twins simultaneously face palm as they realize they have to do the presentation again,

and Ford gets The BIGGEST grin, because, you see, Ford’s ability to process information is largely dependent on setting, generally, the mystery shack is… not a place he’s overjoyed about being at, but with others around it can sort of quell that sick feeling he gets and such.

So while he *mostly* understood the presentation, he didn’t want to have the twins repeat themselves (especially after learning what “unc status” means) so when his brother, Stanley, has to endure the same chaos but WITHOUT the prior understanding Ford’s now working with, all he can do is pull the twins aside and whisper, “how about we add something to your presentation, I think it might help Stanley understand this one term better-“

After a few slides where Stanley hardly seems to be paying any attention, Mabel clears her throat, Dipper stifling his laughter as Mabel announces loud and clear that a “new term” “just dropped”. She points the clicker super professionally, and as the slides turn, it’s the most abhorrent neon slide to ever disgrace the earth. Glitter. Fairies. Graphics that actually DO work this time though, she made sure to give more accurate visuals.

Introducing: GRUNK STATUS!

“It’s like Unc status but even more archaic!” Mabel enthusiastically declares.

Dipper is giggling so hard he’s having a full out asthma attack on the floor, and Ford finally can’t contain his laughter either. Mabel starts to laugh along and Stanley looks absolutely miserable for a moment.

“Aw, c’mon they’re just kids,” Ford laughs.

“You put them up to this. I don’t know how to prove it but I KNOW you did this. That stupid fucking Pun has YOUR NAME written ALL OVER IT-“

*cough/mumbles something about it being Stanley’s name, legally, last he checked which IMMEDIATELY Started a fight, until Mabel slams her fist down.*

“Ahem. Gentlemen. The presentation isn’t OVER. Sheesh, talk about Crashing out,” Mabel says, SO calmly that both grunkles sink back in their seats a bit like kids in trouble for causing a ruckus at school. (Mabel and Dipper do a lil thumbs up bc hey, that was a great way to give an example of a Term, Mabel! Good job!)

“Ohh… I get it, Crashing Out means you’re cruising for a bruising!” Stanley declares (sort of under his breath). To which Ford replies, voice equally lowered, “wasn’t that a few slides back? They already said that,” as if he hadn’t had the EXACT same epiphany earlier on, and was merely able to contain it before sounding “even more unc” (he tries, but the grammar with the slang is slightly off sometimes).

This essentially causes another argument.

This third run of their presentation took them 2 hours to get through due to Stanley and Stanford’s arguing.

Their first two runs with only Ford took maybe 45 minutes max (not including their needing to fix said presentation).

The twins put up with Stan and Ford’s fighting because they realized it’s probably essentially exactly how they looked when they were bumping into each other the first time they were trying to create this presentation.

Some things never change.

Sibling Rivalry? Absolutely timeless.

I was thinking about how he did not have to include this photo of himself in TBOB and how it really looks like it had to be taken by someone else.

[bunnis-monsters]

YANDERE FLUFF

A/N: another kofi comm

In the cold, snowy mountains where no regular mortal could reach, you were currently curled up by the fireplace with your nose buried in a good book.

Normally, being so deep in these mountains would mean you were either lost or close to death. For you, though?

“My love!”

Your eye twitched as the door to your room swung open, arms wrapping around your soft frame before you could react.

“I missed you so much, I’m back so don’t worry! You won’t be lonely anymore!”

Kisses were left along your neck, a pair of fangs brushing against your sensitive skin.

“Not now, I’m still recovering after your last feeding.”

The man huffed, but retracted his fangs and nuzzled against your neck instead.

The only reason you were able to survive in such a hazardous and brutal environment was because the person that had brought you there was a creature of the night.

“I am a vampire, you know. It’s not like I want to hurt you, my darling, but I need sustenance like any other living being.”

Technically, he wasn’t alive. He moved, walked, and could talk, but his heart no longer beats and his name was on a gravestone in the courtyard.

Adrian had never been lucky. Although born into royalty, he was the son of the king’s mistress and had been persecuted by his siblings who all wanted the throne. To them, he was no sibling. All Adrian could ever be was a rival.

To thin out the pool of potential rivals, he was poisoned and tossed into the slums outside of the kingdom. Adrian lay there dying, wanting only to seek revenge against those who had him killed.

A vampire was passing by, and turned him.

Adrian slaughtered his family, being satisfied with his revenge and taking his seat on the throne…

But after years and years of ruling his kingdom all on his own… things became dull. Any lovers or friends he made slipped between his fingers as time went on, and he found himself all alone in the abandoned kingdom.

For centuries, he wandered there alone… until you moved into a small home nearby.

It was a bit embarrassing, Adrian fell for you quickly. You resembled the beauty standard from his time. A thick, plump frame, soft features, and the prettiest smile he had ever seen.

Taking you away to stay with him in his castle was easy. Preparing it to be safe for human life once again was the hard part.

Now, you spent a lot of time lounging around and reading books from his vast collection of novels from the library down the hall. He often left for days on end, returning with bags full of food and gifts for you to enjoy.

“Love, I’ve brought you those candies you’re so fond of.”

You perked up at his words, marking the page you had been reading with a bookmark before standing up. “Really?”

Adrian smirked, settling down on the couch and patting his lap. “You know the drill.”

Unfortunately, you did.

With a sigh, you pulled your cardigan tight around you and climbed into his lap, perching yourself on his leg as he let out a satisfied purr. “That’s my good girl… you want your treat, don’t you?”

He caressed your cheek, melting at the way it squished under his fingers. You were so damn soft, he was whipped for you!

“Oh, my precious one…” he cooed, feeding you a piece of candy before nuzzling his face against your head. “You’re just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen… my angel…”

He proceeded to cover your cheeks and neck in kisses, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you in close.

His body was cold to the touch, and there had never been an ounce of comfort or warmth when you curled up in his arms. Well… maybe not warmth, but if you didn’t feel at least a smidge of comfort, then why did you lean into him?

“Reading all day again, hmm? You must be bored, I’m sorry. I’ve brought home some new games and a few movies for you to watch…”

A kiss was pressed into your temple. “How I adore you… if only I could give you the world, my love. You deserve it and so much more…”

Despite the never ending hunger and desperate need to sink his fangs into your neck, Adrian was the most gentle and careful man in existence.

Every time his hand made contact with your flesh, he treated you like glass that could shatter with the slightest bit of pressure.

Perhaps he did love you, in his own way.

So as he doted on you and cooed softly, you leaned forward and pecked his cheek.

“Next time you go out, you should bring home some more blankets.”

His cheeks flushed at the kiss, and his grip tightened around you. With a lovesick look, he nodded.

“Anything for you, my love.”

Kofi and Patreon members got to see this and many other fics early! Consider supporting me there if you’d like early and exclusive content ^^

——————

YANDERE TAGLIST: @katerinaval @avalordream @atransmuter @bazpire @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @hammerhead96 @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @sandramalikstyles-blog @anonymouskiwi @pedropascalbabygirl @flamefoxx @an-ever-angry-bi @bath1lda @ilyanadelarosa @iswearimnotadrugdealer @whysageee @yumikomoon @rainejiang @lostsomewhereinthegarden

[gpcwsl]

Alexia and r have a 10 year age gap and alexia’s always acting really sweet and boyfriend to r in private but refuses to acknowledge there’s something between them and being cold in public then being apologetic but happy ending please!

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Invisible in the light - adored in the dark

WC: 969

MasterList

Warnings: age gap, ignored? Kiss?

Song: you were good to me - Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler

The first time it happened, you brushed it off.

Maybe Alexia didn’t hear you when you called her name. Maybe the restaurant was too loud, or maybe she was too focused on whatever conversation she was having with her teammates.

But then it happened again.

And again.

And again.

In private, Alexia was everything you could ever want in a girlfriend. She held you so close at night that it felt like she was afraid you would slip through her fingers.

She pressed lazy kisses to your forehead in the mornings, whispered sweet nothings in Spanish that you couldn’t yet understand but still loved the sound of.

She traced shapes onto your bare skin, her fingers moving over your back like an artist painting on a canvas.

But in public?

It was as if you didn’t exist.

Alexia wouldn’t look at you. Wouldn’t talk to you. Wouldn’t even acknowledge your presence. She was ice-cold, a stark contrast to the warmth she showed you behind closed doors.

You thought you could handle it. You thought it wouldn’t bother you.

You were wrong.

You’re at a team dinner when it happens again.

Alexia sits at the other end of the table, deep in conversation with Mapi and Patri, laughing at some inside joke you aren’t privy to. You, on the other hand, are stuck in an awkward silence between two of the younger players, stirring the ice in your drink with your straw, pretending that it doesn’t hurt.

But it does.

It’s not just that she’s ignoring you. It’s the way she goes out of her way to do it. The way her gaze dances around you, how she shifts her body away when you try to move closer, how she only speaks in clipped, professional tones if she absolutely has to respond.

Like you’re nothing more than a stranger.

Like you’re not the same person she held in her arms just last night, whispering soft te quieros into your hair.

The thought makes your stomach twist.

You try to hold it in, to swallow it down. But when the team finally gets up to leave, Alexia walking right past you like you’re invisible, something inside you snaps.

The apartment door barely clicks shut before you say it.

“Why do you do that?”

Alexia turns to you, mid-way through pulling off her jacket. “¿Qué?”

“You know what.” Your voice wavers, but you keep going. “Why do you act like I don’t exist in public?”

Alexia freezes. Her brows knit together, confusion flickering in her hazel eyes. “Y/n, I don’t—”

“You do,” you cut her off, stepping forward. “You do, Alexia. You ignore me. You won’t even look at me.” Your voice cracks on the last part, frustration mixing with something more vulnerable.

Alexia exhales sharply, running a hand through her hair. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it?”

There’s a long pause. She looks at you, really looks at you for the first time all night, and her expression softens.

“I—” She hesitates. “I’m scared.”

Your brows furrow. “Scared of what?”

She glances away, lips pressing together. “Scared of what people will think. Scared of how they’ll see me.”

It clicks then. The age gap. The inevitable judgment.

But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“So what?” Your voice is quieter now, but no less firm. “You’d rather pretend I don’t exist than risk people knowing we’re together?”

Alexia’s eyes snap back to yours, and there’s something raw in them. Guilt. Regret.

“Y/n…” She steps closer, reaching for you, but you don’t move.

“You can’t have it both ways,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “You can’t treat me like I’m the most important person in the world when we’re alone and then act like I’m nothing as soon as other people are around.”

The silence stretches between you, thick and heavy.

Then Alexia sighs, shoulders dropping. “You’re right.”

You blink. “I am?”

“Yes.” She takes another step forward, closing the space between you. This time, you let her. Her hands find yours, fingers curling around your wrists. “I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you.”

You swallow. “You were.”

She nods, gaze full of remorse. “Lo siento, mi amor.”

You sigh. “In English, Alexia.”

A small smile tugs at her lips despite the tension in the air. “I’m sorry, my love.”

You hold her gaze for a long moment, searching for any trace of insincerity. You find none.

Then she’s pulling you into her arms, wrapping herself around you like she’s trying to shield you from the world. “I’ll do better,” she murmurs into your hair. “I promise.”

You exhale against her shoulder, the weight on your chest easing just a little. “Okay.”

She pulls back just enough to cup your face, her thumb tracing gentle circles against your cheek. “I love you, Y/n.”

Your heart stumbles over itself. She’s said it before, but never like this—never so openly, so unguarded.

“I love you too,” you breathe.

And then she kisses you.

It’s slow, tender, full of unspoken apologies and silent vows. She kisses you like she’s making up for every second she’s ignored you, like she’s trying to prove with her lips what she failed to show in public.

And you let her.

When she finally pulls away, she rests her forehead against yours. “Cuddle with me?” she murmurs.

You can’t help but smile. “Only if you actually acknowledge me tomorrow.”

Alexia chuckles softly. “Deal.”

You curl up together on the couch, her arms around you, her heartbeat steady beneath your ear. And for the first time in a long time, you feel seen.

Because in the end, love isn’t about the whispers in the dark.

It’s about the way someone chooses to hold your hand in the light.

[natanielkovack]

hii katsuki x shy reader headcannons maybee??

Omg, Yess!!! Thank you for the request, Qyuin! :3

I'm scared of flies... I'm scared of guys...

Katsuki Bakugo x Shy! Reader headcanons ; gn, fluff, comfort.

Ever since the entrance exam, Bakugo didn't pay much attention to you. It wasn't because he was actively ignoring you, you just didn't really talked or participated.

The first time he realized your existence was in the physical testing with Aizawa. It was just a brief moment, but he tried to learn your quirk to somehow beat you in battle.

To him, you were just another extra in the way, another person he had to beat in order to be the N° #1 hero, so he was surprised by your sudden calm and friendly behavior as days passed by.

Of course, he answered with his usual yelling and cursing, telling you to go away and leave him alone. But you never gave up in trying to know him.

Bakugo would secretly keep every detail you give him. At first he would do this with everyone, but as his closet grew full of things he got rid of almost everything... Still, he couldn't get rid of what you gave him.

He would look at you with annoyance when you miss his Monday doodles, silently handing you his notebook for you to draw something small.

At first it feels like a one sided thing... Until you notice how he gives you the bigger portions of the food he cooks for the class, the juiciest parts and the sweetest servings of those cakes Sato bakes.

He knows you're shy, it used to annoy him so much. You would always take so long with talking while handing him something, but now he finds himself looking forward to those clumsy speeches you give.

He's really understanding, but he also understands that you have potential and a lot of it. In class he would tell you to rise your hand when you know the answer, taking your wrist in his hand and raising it for you. It feels like a mini heart attack, but that satisfactory feeling that you answered correctly is so relieving.

He will always follow those with an "I told you so" and a grin before looking back.

Everyone noticed his change in behavior, how he grew sweeter with you. He even knew what you wanted without you even talking... Everyone knew except Bakugo himself and that made everyone so angry at him.

That man is so oblivious to his own feelings.

You can't really tell when your "nervous because of people" turned into "nervous because of Bakugo". Your heart beats faster, you want to be so close to him, you start drawing more hearts and writing sweeter words and oh it makes Bakugo so... Happy?

He thinks that you've somehow infected him with your shyness or something because why else would he blush and feel so warm when you're close? He sees you running away more often, now the letters and drawings just appear in his backpack and he feels his heart missing a beat everytime he sees it.

It takes a few hangouts with the bakusquad before Mina snaps and hits the back of his head, saying "You're more annoying than ever! Can't you see that you like them? Like, you blush and all! Everyone knows! Get a grip!" And he seems to contemplate his whole life while everyone laughs, is that what that was?

He tries talking to you once... Twice... The third time he starts getting angry and there's no fourth time because he decides to do it your way.

His writing is honestly so lovely, a drawing at the end with a heart saying everything he feels. From how he hated you for being like a scared mouse to how he wanted to protect you.

He didn't knew how to look at you the next few days, his eyes darting from you to any other space he could.

When he grows the courage to ask you out you feel like fainting, because why is Thee Bakugo Katsuki asking you out? But you're with him holding hands while walking in the blink of an eye.

He's so sweet and knows when to stop his borderline cruel jokes and comfort you, never judging when you feel so much anxiety for things that are common for others.

He doesn't care that you go speechless when he holds you while watching TV on the common room's couch, it is nice and even you know you'll get used to it... Right?

He cooks for you constantly, he thinks is only fair to give back all you've given him that way.

At first he takes his hand away from yours because of how insecure he is of his sweat, but you just slowly search for his fingers to intertwine yours and the world stops around him.

You slowly grow more comfortable, being more vocal with him about your thoughts and even rambling about nothings. He doesn't ever complain, getting to listen to your voice is such a privilege that he doesn't ever wanna risk losing.

He's so proud to see you growing, working with your shyness instead of against of it, your charm never lost and you're so kind, he could never get tired to see you interacting with the world.

Bakugo makes fun of you from time to time, Joe red you get when he's too close and how your voice lowers when he teases you, you're just too cute, can you blame him?

But he would never be cruel to you, he likes to comfort you. Both of you laying on his bed and hugging, something he would never admit but he loves.

He just loves being around you, you're polar opposites and he can calm down around you while you get more talkative with him.

You're shy, not quiet, at least not around him. And he has learned to be a lot calmer when he's with you, the way his heart beats like crazy balances out that need for constant stress.

A/N: I hope I did good TwT I've read a lot abt Bakugo but I still feel like he's ooc, he's actually really complex! Thanks for requesting, this was so much fun!! (^з^)

Hey! Natan here! ; wanna read more about Bakugo? ; check out my masterlist.

[ari-ana-bel-la]

hi, can you do a max one were the reader is around 15-16 and gets harassed or hate from fans (possibly gets hurt) when she joins max at a race, but max is on the track, so he doesn't see it or know and well you can come up with the ending

From good to bad

Yn had been excited for this race weekend for weeks. When Max had suggested she join him, just the two of them, she had nearly jumped into his arms with joy. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her family—she adored her little sisters, and she knew how much her parents loved her. But ever since the younger girls had been born, their attention had naturally shifted toward them. She understood it, truly, but sometimes she missed the days when she was the center of their world.

So when her Papa said, Just you and me this weekend, she had packed her bag faster than ever.

The paddock was buzzing with energy when they arrived. Max had a hand on her shoulder, guiding her through as he proudly introduced her to everyone. Engineers, mechanics, media personnel—everyone smiled at her, recognizing the young girl who had always been in the background of her father's life.

Then, she saw him.

"Uncle Charlie!" Yn beamed, her face lighting up.

Charles turned at the sound of her voice, his green eyes softening when he saw her. "Ma chérie!" He opened his arms, and Yn gladly stepped into his embrace.

"You’re here for the weekend?" he asked, pulling back to take a good look at her.

"Just me and Papa," she confirmed with a proud smile. "The little ones are staying with Mama."

Charles chuckled. "Finally getting some one-on-one time with the old man?"

"Hey!" Max protested, playfully shoving his friend. "I’m not old."

Charles smirked, ruffling Yn’s hair before turning back to Max. "It’s good you brought her. You don’t get nearly enough time with this one."

Max's expression softened as he glanced at Yn. "I know."

She knew they felt guilty. She had overheard her parents talking about it late at night, her Mama whispering about how they sometimes neglected their eldest. She had wanted to walk in and tell them that she understood, that she didn’t resent them, but she never did. It wouldn’t have changed anything.

"I'm really happy to be here," she reassured them both, squeezing her father's hand.

Max gave her a small smile before checking the time. "I have to head to a meeting. Stay around here, okay?"

Yn nodded, watching as her dad disappeared into the Red Bull hospitality. Charles left shortly after, heading toward Ferrari’s motorhome, leaving her alone.

It was fine.

She wandered through the paddock, taking in the sights and sounds. Everyone was busy, running around with headsets and laptops, preparing for the upcoming sessions. It was exhilarating. Eventually, she found herself on a quiet balcony overlooking the entire paddock. The view was incredible, and she leaned against the railing, taking a deep breath.

But then—

“Hey, look! It’s Max’s daughter!”

Yn turned around, startled, as a group of older girls approached her.

“Oh my god, we have to take a picture,” one of them said, pulling out her phone.

Yn hesitated. “I—um—I’d rather not, sorry.”

They didn’t seem to care.

“Oh, come on, just one!” another girl insisted, stepping closer.

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal,” a third chimed in.

Yn took a step back, feeling uneasy. The balcony wasn’t very spacious, and they were closing in on her. "Please, I really don’t want to—"

“Just smile for the camera!”

A girl reached out, trying to pull her closer, and that was when it happened.

Yn stepped back instinctively, her foot catching on the edge of the small staircase behind her.

She didn’t even have time to react before she felt herself falling.

She hit the first step hard, the impact jolting through her ribs. Then, she tumbled down the remaining steps, rolling until she came to a painful stop at the bottom.

Silence.

Then panic.

"Oh my god!"

"Shit, is she okay?!"

"Run!"

Yn barely registered the sound of hurried footsteps as the girls fled. Her body was screaming in pain, a deep, sharp ache spreading through her side. When she tried to move, a searing pain shot through her ribs, making her gasp.

She groaned, forcing herself to sit up despite the dizziness.

No one was around.

No one had seen.

Her hands shook as she pressed them to her side, breathing heavily. It hurt.

After a few minutes, she managed to stand, biting down on her lip to keep from crying out. Her legs were unsteady, but she forced herself to walk, her mind focused on one thing—she needed to get away.

She made it to a bathroom, locking the door behind her. With trembling fingers, she lifted her shirt.

A massive bruise had already formed, stretching across her left ribs. Worse, there was something wrong with the way her skin was shifting—like the bones underneath weren’t where they should be.

Tears welled up in her eyes.

What was she supposed to do?

A deep, shuddering breath left her as she pulled out her phone. There was only one person she could call.

She pressed the contact and lifted the phone to her ear.

"Papa?" Her voice was weak, strained.

"Yn?" Max’s voice was immediately alert. "What’s wrong?"

Her breath hitched. "I—I need help."

There was silence for a second. Then—

"Where are you?"

"The—bathroom. Near the back of the paddock," she whispered.

"I’m coming."

Minutes felt like hours. The pain was unbearable, her vision blurry from unshed tears.

Then, the door burst open.

Max.

His eyes landed on her, his face contorting in worry. "Yn!"

She let out a choked breath as he crouched beside her, his hands hovering over her as if afraid to touch her.

"What happened?" His voice was sharp, panicked.

She shook her head, too overwhelmed to speak. Instead, she lifted her shirt slightly, revealing the bruise.

Max’s face darkened, his jaw tightening. "Who did this?"

"I—" She winced. "Some girls… they wanted a picture. They crowded me. I—I fell."

Max’s hands clenched into fists. "They pushed you?"

"Not exactly, but… they didn’t stop."

Max exhaled slowly, his nostrils flaring as he pulled out his phone.

"Lando, I need you. Now."

Minutes later, Lando rushed in, his expression filled with worry. "What happened?"

"Help me get her to the medical center," Max ordered.

Lando immediately moved to support Yn, his touch gentle. "Hang in there, sweetheart."

The medical team confirmed it—two broken ribs. Yn was given pain medication, her body exhausted as she lay in the hospital bed.

Max stayed beside her, his expression unreadable. Then, he turned to Lando, his voice cold.

"I'm going to sue those bitches."

Lando nodded, his jaw set. "I’ll help you find them."

Max reached out, brushing Yn’s hair back as she drifted off to sleep. His heart clenched as he watched her.

She had always been his brave girl.

But he had failed her.

And that was something he would never let happen again.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey guys. I hope you enjoyed this story. My requests are always open for you.

-💙🦋

[neigepomme]

˙ ✩°˖ ✈️ stay still!! / caleb x reader

synopsis; caleb would lay his head on your lap forever if he could. he's a bit more reluctant about staying still when you bring out a weapon (tweezers) to use on him though.

🍎 pomme's notes - honestly he just has really nice eyebrows. what can i say

⋆ 1k words / fluff / reader is gender neutral / 2nd person

caleb loves laying on your lap.

the first time he did was when you were still kids — he was climbing a tree at a park you two often hung out at, and after picking two apples from said tree, he promptly made his way down to you.

with the widest grin 10-year-old caleb could muster, he looks at you and beams;

"pip!! look at what i got us!!"

his eyes shone bright, crinkling at the corners upon seeing you light up and flashing him a smile with a tooth missing. when he leaned down to sit next to you, you looked up at him and patted your lap, telling him "put your head here!! a pillow after you got us apples!!" and he swore his heart skipped a beat.

in retrospect, maybe that was the first time caleb realized he liked you, not just as a close friend — but that was a thought he could ponder about another day. right now, you looked at him with the same eyes as you excitedly pat your lap. only it was fifteen years later, and you were finally dating.

as he happily strides towards you, you think that if caleb had a tail, it'd be wagging excitedly at the idea of resting on your lap. the fleet's ever-so-serious colonel caleb xia, melting away and donning a lovesick smile on his face.

he settles on the couch, legs hanging off the edge — stupidly big man acting like a tiny puppy. head finally resting on your lap, caleb speaks up with a teasing tone;

"what's up pipsqueak? missing your favorite weighted plushie on your lap?"

"mmh, i sure did. i missed my favorite doll to experiment on."

oh.

so that's why you were so eager to get him lying down on your lap. he laughs nervously, getting ready for the worst and that's when he sees it. tweezers in your dominant hand.

visibly turning more pale, he tries to get himself out of the torturous experience you're about to put him through.

"actually, i think i have something to do, gorgeous! wow, it sure is getting late and dinner isn't gonna prepare itse-"

"i already ordered takeout. don't you worry about a thing, colonel xia, nothing will come in the way of my tweezers and your brows", you interrupt him, and that's when reality sinks in for him.

caleb is done for. the last time you did his eyebrows was two years ago, when he came back home from the DAA for spring break, and he still remembers the sting of it all.

he needed to get out.

"y- you know, you really don't have to do this!! i can handle it myself!!"

"yeah, but i want to. what kind of partner would i be if i don't take care of my handsome and lovely boyfriend, who's definitely not trying to get out of this?"

he gulped, almost comically so. you caught him, and there was no way out of this one — or maybe there was. he didn't want to do this, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

puppy eyes. caleb stared at you and tried to look as pitiful as he possibly could, praying to every deity out there that you'll have some mercy on his soul.

"come on, Y/N.. my eyebrows look fine and i don't wanna waste your time — and this hurts. i don't understand how you do it, and i could never be as strong as you. please, please, please spare me. pretty please?"

you snort and lean down, pressing an exaggerated wet kiss on his forehead, making sure to emphasize the 'mwah' sound.

"nope! loved the puppy eyes, though. you should do that more often. alright, if there are no further inquiries, i'm gonna ask you to sit tight and relax pretty boy. let's get this done."

caleb stiffens when he realizes there's no way out of this. how is it that he went through DAA training, the fleet's conditioning, but somehow, you doing his eyebrows was the end of him? he's lost in his thoughts now, thinking about happy memories, but when your tweezers make contact with his skin, he immediately flinches and starts whining.

"ow ow ow ow ow, pips! it hurts! it hurts!"

you smile and flick his forehead lightly,

"i didn't even touch you yet! you always call me dramatic but you're not any better!!"

and then you pull out a hair.

"oh my go- i can't. i can't do this, please pipsqueak, please, have some mercy on your boyfriend."

and another one.

and he yelps, keeps on wriggling and trying to get out of your grasp. he thinks that you're stupidly strong right now — and all that strength is used in order to make him suffer.

"i thought you loved me!! we grew up together!! Y/N, you're hurting the love of your life, plea- ow!!"

you're giggling now, watching your big, strong, and fearless caleb being reduced to yelps as you do his eyebrows.

he inhales sharply, trying to roll away from your hands and begging for mercy, "it hurts!! please tell me you're done with the right brow, please pips!!".

laughing even harder now, you drag him back by the shoulder to his original position on your lap, and he has his face hidden in his hands, eyes tightly shut. he's shaking his head in disagreement and fake crying.

"oh my god, sit still, you dummy! if you keep on wriggling, i'm gonna put you on a cilantro only diet for the entire week!!"

and that seems to do it. he settles down again, but not without a few whines and sniffles.

drama queen.

when you're finally done (not without some more "ow ow ow- ouch!!" and "you hate me! you hate your boyfriend!" from him), he gets up and admires your work in the mirror. he wipes a stray tear that he insists isn't a tear but rather a hair that fell in his eye, and while you beg to differ, you let him have this small win.

"light work. this was a breeze", caleb exhales. free at last he thinks. that is, until he hears you hum. and he knows you — that hum meant something bad for him.

"oh yeah? same time next week then, boyfriend."

you swear you can see the color drain from his face, and you giggle.

such a drama queen. but he's your drama queen, all yours.

🍎 pomme's final notes - this is my offering to him because i really really want farspace deprivation to come home </3 it's the only card of his that i'm missing :((

[amoressb]

───── H.S.K.T. 西村 力 N. RK

ꪆৎ ⋆˚࿔ doing a cute dance trend with your ‘too cool’ bf ｡｡ ʙꜰ!ʀɪᴋɪ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ.

FLUFF & wc. 1100 + ; kissing, skinship, petnames ｡｡

──── ARCHiVE

you and riki were just laying down in your bed watching videos. riki had his hands wrapped around your waist, head on your shoulders watching with you since you were both watching on your phone.

after scrolling for a little while, a couple or friends appeared doing the H.S.K.T. trend and you immediately turned to riki grinning like crazy. he looked at you, his smile faltering, “don’t look at me, i am not doing that.”

“aw cmon riki pleaseee” you sulk. “nooo” he buries his head on you back pulling you closer. you don’t see or feel it but theres a smile growing on his face. you separate his hands and get off the bed getting changed. “yesss and were doing it outside so bundle up. oh AND you’re wearing pink so we can match!” you smile at him. “im not doing that cutesy trend and ESPECIALLY not wearing pink.”

“i cannot believe im doing this” riki sighs looking up after you both finish getting the simple moves down. here he was outside, in pink, waiting for you to finish setting up your phone. “okay you ready?” you turn around to him smiling. he let’s out a breathy yes but with a slight smile as he couldn’t help it when you’re being so cute.

you click start and the countdown starts as you both get into position. riki still had his ‘annoyed’ expression in the beginning but it immediately faded away as you two continued to do the dance.

it started off with you pointing at him first , barely reaching the top of his head and then him doing it to you and ended it off with you jumping onto him giving him a bear hug smiling big, riki immediately wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and looking away while placing his head on yours smiling.

“let’s see how it came out!” you excitedly go to grab your phone and grab rikis hand to come and sit next to you.

looking over the video you notice rikis gaze stayed on you the whole time no matter what, as well as how almost immediately, he started smiling, but still trying to keep up that cool guy facade. you roll your eyes playfully and chuckle at him. you started getting flustered at all the attention he gave you.

from rikis point of view, although from the outside he sometimes looks disinterested, he really couldnt have loved these moments more. every time he looked at you, it felt like the world around you two faded away.

he couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way your hair cascaded down your shoulders, how your eyes sparkled when you laughed, or the subtle curve of your lips when you smiled. it wasn’t just your beauty, though—it was the way you made everything seem more alive, more vibrant.

his gaze often lingered, even when he didn’t mean to, as if he were trying to memorize every little detail, afraid that the moment would slip away too quickly. you were the kind of girl who could steal his attention effortlessly, and he didn’t mind at all—he was utterly captivated by your presence.

as you two sat side by side, eyes fixed on the video, the world outside felt distant and unimportant. his arms were wrapped around you, pulling you close as you leaned into him, your head resting gently against his shoulder. he could feel the warmth of your body, the soft rise and fall of your breath, and the faint scent of your hair, all of it grounding him in the moment.

every time you laughed or pointed something out on the screen, his grip tightened just a little, as if holding you a bit closer, cherishing the simple quiet moments you two shared. the video played on, but he wasnt paying much attention to it—he was lost in the feeling of having you there with him, in the ease of your shared space, where everything felt right.

you grinned playfully, raising an eyebrow as you nudged riki with your elbow. “you know,” you teased, “i think you secretly love doing all these cute little things with me.” riki shot you a look of mock disbelief, but you werent buying it.

“oh, come on, dont act like you didn’t enjoy matching in pink with me, or filming these couple trends, or—” you paused, looking at him mischievously, “—how you never complain when we go to that ridiculous little cafe for the third time this week.” he laughed, shaking his head, but you could see the corners of his lips twitching upwards, the slight blush creeping up his neck.

“admit it,” you pressed, your voice softening, he rolled his eyes, trying to act exasperated, but his soft chuckle gave him away. “im just being nice,” he muttered, though his warmth and the way he subtly leaned into you said everything. “yeah, sure,” you laughed, nudging him again.

“youre so ‘nice’��thats why you keep asking if i want to do something cute every weekend.” riki rolled his eyes, but there was a warmth in his expression that gave him away. “okay maybe i do enjoy it,” he muttered, his smile betraying him, “but only because it’s with you.”

“ahhh you love me so bad.” you tease him poking at his chest smiling. you were laughing, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you teased him once again. “you’re not as mysterious—” but before you could finish your sentence, he leaned in, cutting you off with a soft, unexpected kiss.

the playful edge in your voice faltered as you felt his lips against yours, warm and tender, shutting down your teasing in the sweetest way possible.

for a moment, everything else faded as you both just breathed, your hands instinctively resting against his chest. when you two pulled away, he smiled, a quiet confidence in his eyes. “okay, enough teasing for now,” he whispered, his voice low and amused.

you blinked, a smile tugging at your lips as you realized that his kiss was the perfect answer to your playful jabs. “and of course i love you soooo bad princess, how couldn’t i,” he smiles, lips hovering over each other.

riki would do anything for you, no matter how silly or cheesy it might seem. if it made you smile, it was worth it. riki would dance with you in the middle of your living room just because you wanted to, and even let you drag him to yet another cute cafe for “just one more” dessert.

to him, it wasnt about the act itself—it was about the joy of seeing you happy. your laughter, your little excited expressions, your way of making the ordinary feel extraordinary—he would do it all again without a second thought, because to him, making you feel loved was the best thing he could ever do. even if it meant getting rid of his ‘cool look’ for your cute antics.

ooh he’s so whipped for you.

⋆｡°✩ @miukidoll @liwinly @sugarikiz @hyukabean @ijustwannareadstuff20

[dollveis]

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐇 !

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀you've got a fetish for my love

❝ ELLIE WILLIAMS ❞⠀ ✿ you always push ellie away because you're sure you couldn't work together, but maybe you can under the bed sheets. 3.3k words.

pairing. jackson!ellie x fem!reader content warning! mention of consuming alcohol, smut, vague plot tbh, the smut it's actually pretty light and there's more tension and making out than anything, a bit of fluff and maybe angst if you squint, kind of a enemies to lovers but they're not completely enemies (just don't get along), open ending, oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), top!ellie, bottom! reader, there's not really a dom/sub dynamic here.

☆ this is the first thing i've wrote in like a year and a half so bear with me please, this also has been sitting in my drafts for two years already and i finished it just now. i hope this isn't that bad! if there's any grammatical mistakes please let me know, english is not my first language, enjoy ♡

The party was obviously Dina's idea. She'd been going on about it for weeks now, how the younger crowd of Jackson needed a break, no one had barely time to just be and exist with all the patrolling, hunting and just surviving in general.

The party is already in full swing when you finally arrive, half the town's twenty-somethings crowding Dina's place. The warmth it's the first thing that hits you, the house is candlelit, the soft cracking of the fireplace and the strong scent of whiskey and woodsmoke fill your nostrils. The sound of laughter echoes from the living room, someone's half-drunk attempt at playing the guitar makes everyone laugh, you hear Dina's voice rising above it all, welcoming everyone, teasing people, just keeping the energy high. She really outdid herself, the whole place is alive in a way that Jackson rarely is.

And you hate it.

You immediately thought you shouldn't have come. The party is loud, too loud. It's not that you don't like the people here, you do, for most part, but crowds make you restless and you've spent the whole day convincing yourself that this? this isn't what you need, you should've stayed home but Dina insisted, said you were wound up too tight.

“Loosen up, drink a little, talk to someone who isn't your damn horse!” she said when she greeted you and saw that expression in your face, like if you were about to run back to your house.

So now you were stuck there, standing stiff against a wall, drink in hand and watching the room from a distance like it might swallow you whole.

Then your eyes land on her.

Ellie.

She's sitting in the corner, half sprawled on the couch, beer dangling from her slender fingers and her other arm resting lazily over the back of the couch, boots kicked up on the edge of a coffee table just if like she owns the fucking place. She's laughing at something Jesse just said, her head tilting back slightly, exposing the column of her throat. It's a rare sight— her guard down, her expression relaxed, warmth slipping through the usual sharp edges.

For a second you let yourself look, your gaze fixated on her. The way her shirt clings to her frame, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, her tattoo catching the dim light of the place. The way her fingers absently trace the label on her beer bottle. The way her green eyes flick across the room, scanning, searching, until they land on you.

There's a pause, a beat where neither of you look away. Then—

She smirks. Fucking smirks. She lifts her beer slightly, a silent acknowledgement of your presence, before taking a slow sip. She knows exactly what she's doing, she enjoys watching you bristle.

You scoff and turn away, pulse kicking up in annoyance. You and Ellie don't get along, y'all never have, she's stubborn, reckless, too sure of herself in a way that grates on your nerves. Every patrol together turns into a heated argument, every introduction a silent battle. It's not like she's mean, if anything, it'd be easier if she was, but she's just Ellie, all sharp words and cocky grins, pressing your buttons like it's a game. And she's determined to win it. For some reason she never lets up, not with you.

Maybe it's a game of push and pull and you always push first.

An hour passes, maybe more, two? you spend most of it trying to avoid her, talking to Dina, Jesse, anyone else but you feel her presence like a weight. Every time you glance her way, she's already looking, every time you move, she's just there and it's pissing you off.

You down the rest of your drink and push through the crowd, slipping down the back hallway, you don't run but you walk fast enough that it feels like it, you dodge Jesse's half-hearted attempt to pull you into some drinking game. You just need air, space—distance.

The first door you find is half open, a guest room, mostly unused since the bed was neatly made. You step inside, inhaling deeply, relishing the silence

Then the door shuts behind you, you don't even need to turn around to know who it is.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter glaring at the ceiling, “do you ever take a hint?”

Ellie just chuckles, the sound low and amused, “Not when it's this much fun, to be honest,” and you don't even need to look around to know she has that stupid smirk plastered on her face.

You spin to face her, your eyes meeting her intense emerald eyes and your arms crossing tight over your chest, “What the hell do you want?”

She leans against the doorframe, her hand holding her chin like she was pretending to think, “dunno. . . maybe i just like seeing you squirm.”

Your jaw clenches and your fists close, “i'm not squirming.”

You see her smirk grow, a knowing look in her eyes, she looks at you like if she was able to read your thoughts and body language, like if she knew something you don't.

She steps closer, “no?”

You hate how easily she gets under your skin, how quickly she turns the air electric. The room feels smaller with her in it, the tension between you palpable. And the worst part? She knows.

You can feel the anger growing inside you, “why do you always do this?” you snap.

Through her lips escapes a soft chuckle as her brow raises, “do what?”

“This. You act like— like —” you exhale sharply, trying to put your mind in order and find the right words, “like you're trying to get a rise out of me.”

Another step, now you can smell the mix of beer and whiskey on her breath, the faint scent of smoke clinging to her shirt, “what if i am?” she says, her voice now lower, rougher.

You breath hitches, for a moment neither of you move, the tension is thick, suffocating, a rope pulled too tight between you, you're both too stubborn, too reckless, you'd burn each other out before you even had the chance to try.

Your heart pounds, your skin prickles, and fuck, you should push her away like you always do.

But you don't.

You take a step forward, closing the distance completely. Ellie doesn't flinch, doesn't back down, if anything she leans in, her usual green eyes now dark and heavy lidded, her smirk fading into something different. Something dangerous.

“You gonna keep pretending?” she murmurs close to your ear.

You don't answer, you can't because she's right and you both know it. So when she tilts her head, gaze flicking down to your lips— when she hesitates, waiting for you— you do the stupidest thing imaginable.

You kiss her.

The kiss is not soft, not sweet, there's frustration, months of tension unravelling all at once. Ellie makes a sound low in her throat, something between a gasp and a groan, and then she's grabbing you, fingers curling around the back of your neck, pulling you into her, pressing you against the door. The alcohol on her tongue is dizzying, her body solid and warm against yours and fuck, maybe you should stop. Maybe this is a mistake— but when she bites at your bottom lip, hands slipping under your jacket, pulling, teasing, demanding, you know there's no going back.

Ellie kisses like she fights, hungry, restless, all consuming. Her hands grip at your waist, pulling you impossibly close, fingers digging into the fabric of your shirt like she's trying to stake her claim. The taste of her mouth makes your head spin. You should stop, you really should, you keep repeating that to yourself in your mind but when she presses you harder against the wall, when she nips at your lower lip and swallows the soft, sweet sound it pulls from your throat— you don't. You won't.

Your hands move on their own, fisting into the front of her shirt, yanking her closer, until there's barely any space left between the both of you. You feel Ellie exhale sharply against your lips, a quiet, breathy curse before tilting her head to deepen the kiss. Months of pent-up frustration unraveling with every movement.

Her hands now drag under your jacket, fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, her rough and calloused fingers grazing over your bare skin. The touch sends a shiver through you, your breath hitching as she maps the contours of your waist, ribs, back and dangerously close to your chest.

“Fuck,” Ellie mutters against your mouth, voice husky and almost desperate, “you're—” she cuts herself off, biting at your lip again before pulling back just enough to look at you.

Your chest rises and falls in tandem, lips swallowed and face flushed. And, God, that sight was delightful for her, she could feel herself getting wet just by looking at you, her pupils are blown wide, green eyes dark and unreadable as they flick between your lips and your gaze. She's still gripping at your waist, still pressing you into the door, but there's hesitation now— like she's waiting, like she's asking, like she needs you to make the next move.

You exhale, reaching up, letting your fingers tangle in the short hairs at the nape of her neck. She shivers under your touch, just barely, and something about that sends a thrill directly to your core, making you bolder and almost demanding.

You tug her back in, Ellie groans softly as your lips crash together again, her hands gripping tighter, wandering and exploring beneath your shirt, sometimes her hands traveling to graze your chest. She moves like she's trying to memorize you, like she's been waiting too long for this moment and doesn't want to waste a second of it.

Somewhere between kisses and touches she starts backing you up slowly, steady, until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed and your stomach tightens.

Ellie pulls away slightly, breath ghosting over your lips, “tell me to stop.”

You obviously don't. Instead, you hook a finger into her belt loop and pull, letting yourself fall back onto the mattress, bringing her down with you. She lets out a breathless chuckle, bracing herself with her hands on either side of your head.

“Yeah?” she murmurs, voice teasing but still rough around the edges, like she's barely holding herself together.

You swallow, breath shaky, “yeah.”

And that's all she needs. She kisses you again, even deeper this time, slower, like she wants to savor it. The weight of her body presses into you, her thigh slotting between yours and pressing it softly against your core, the heat of her touch setting your skin ablaze.

She takes her time now, trailing her lips down your jaw, your neck and collarbone, her hands moving and groping deliberately, teasing your nipples over your shirt. You arch into her touch, finger gripping at her shirt, nails dragging lightly down her back.

Ellie exhales shakily, her lips barely brushing against your skin as she murmurs, “I knew you wanted me.”

You laugh, breathless and heady, tilting your head back as she marks your neck with her mouth, “shut up and prove it.”

And Ellie doesn't hesitate at all now, the second your words leave your mouth, she moves— lips tracing a slow path down your throat, hands now gripping your waist with just enough pressure to keep you grounded. The heat between you is unbearable, every inch of your body hyper aware of her. She really takes her time, dragging her fingers along the hem of your shirt but not directly touching, she's just teasing, testing. Like she's giving you again the chance to change your mind, like she wants you to stop her and you won't.

You tilt your head back, giving her more room to work, breath hitching as her lips graze over your collarbone. Your fingers curl into the fabric of her shirt, tugging her closer, needing more, she grins against your skin, clearly pleased, before shifting her weight just enough to pull your jacket off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

The room is quiet except for your breaths and soft moans, the faint crackling of a candle in the dresser, the muffled sound of the party still going outside. It feels like another world, distant, unimportant. Right now it's just you and her.

Ellie leans back to look at you, her green eyes searching your gaze, “you sure?”

And that almost made you roll your eyes, wasn't the whole situation obvious enough?

You exhale, heart pounding and voice low, “Ellie.”

That's all it takes. She kisses you again, her hands slip under your shirt, fingers warm against your skin as she softly gropes your tits, sending a shiver down your spine. You press into her touch, drinking in every sensation, every little sound she makes as your hands wander, lifting the hem of her shirt, feeling the taut muscle beneath. She groans when you drag your nails down her back and the sound sends a rush of heat directly between your thighs. A slow, aching need building, making your head spin.

The bed creaks slightly as she shifts, settling between your thighs like earlier, her weight pressing you deeper into the mattress. When her knee makes friction with your wet and aching pussy, you gasp, fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her back down to you, lips meeting in a heated, breathless rhythm.

She moves like she wants to take her time, like she's been waiting for this moment as long as you have but neither of you have the patience for that.

Clothes come off in slow, teasing increments— shirts and pants slipping, fingers tracing new paths along the bare skin. You shudder at the warmth of her mouth trailing lower and lower, her lips leaving marks you know won't fade by morning. She's restless, enjoying every reaction, every gasp and sharp inhale.

When she finally, finally, presses closer, when her wet mouth meets your core through your panties, when her fingers tighten against your hip,it's nothing like fighting. There's no sharpness, no stubborn push-and-pull, there's no battle to win.

Just heat. Just the press of her body against yours, just the slow, aching rhythm her tongue sets, the way she whispers your name like it's the only thing she knows. Just her.

She pulled away her mouth for a moment, enjoying the sight of soaking wet panties, your own fluids mixed with her saliva. With her free hand she began to rub up and down your slit, the thin fabric of your underwear making the friction even more delicious.

The way she was edging is making you crazy, she finally decide to move the fabric aside, she iz quick to attach her warm mouth directly to your, already, sensitive clit as her two of her fingers make their way to the entrance of your needy hole. A gasp escapes your lips when you feel her calloused fingers teasing it at the same time she sucks and licks your clit. The humid sounds of her mouth making your arousal grow even more and she knows.

Her lips let your clit go for a moment, she speaks in a lustful, almost velvety, tone, “i prefer when you're like this and not fighting me back,” and you can't even fight or bite back, you just whimper in response and she grins before going back to work.

She finally stops teasing your entrance and she slips one finger inside you, slick dripping down to her wrist. She was quick to find your spongy spot and she presses exactly where you need and while a soft moans leaves your lips, she inserts another finger, feeling how your walls clench against her digits.

The feeling of her fingers pressing your g-spot as her lips latching onto your bud quickly turns to be too much, you don't even know where to grip, you feel like you need something to keep you grounded, your whines and whimpers music to her ears.

And you don't know how much time passes but the room is warm, your breath stutters as Ellie moves against you, her fingers shifting slightly inside you, every touch, every word, sending a wave of arousal. She's steady, controlled, like she's savoring every second, like she's engraving this moment in her memory.

You, on the other hand? You're unravelling, your hands grip at her naked back, your fingers pressing at her warm skin, desperate to keep her close, to pull her even closer. She responds with a quiet, breathy chuckle, but there's roughness to it, a slight tremor beneath her confidence that tells you she's just as lost in this as you are.

She leans in, pressing her forehead to yours, breaths mingling, eyes half-lidded as she watches you, “you're so fucking stubborn,” she murmurs, her voice rough and teasing.

You let out a shaky laugh, tilting your head back as her lips find your throat, “look who's talking.”

Ellie hums in agreement against your pulse, her grip tightening at your waist before she started to move again inside you, it was slow and measured but intentional, the way her fingers curl inside you pulls an embarrassing sound from you, but she swallows it with her mouth, kissing you deep, hungry. She doesn't let up, doesn't rush, just takes her time learning you, every sound, every shiver, every spot that makes your breath hitch. It's infuriating and intoxicating all at once, the way she knows exactly what she's doing.

And when she finally pushes you past that point, when you can't think, can't breathe, can't do anything but feel her, when you're about to hit ecstasy— she murmurs your name against your skin, like it's a confession, like she's giving you something she hasn't given to anyone else.

When the tension finally shatters, your fingers curl against her back, scratching her, pulling her down into you as everything blurs, melts, breaks. She helps you to ride your orgasm, cooing you with sweet words and praises even if everything you can say it's just “hah-ahh” and moan.

The aftershocks leave you both breathless, tangled in each other, skin sticky with heat and effort. Neither of you move for a long moment, just lying there, letting the world settle back into place around you.

Ellie shifts first, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your shoulder before resting her head against your chest. Her fingers trace lazy forms over your side, absentminded.

You exhale, your body still trembling slightly, you lift a shaky hand to run through her hair, pushing damp strands from her forehead. Silence lingers between you, but it's not uncomfortable. It's new, uncertain, but not something you want to pull away from just yet.

The auburn haired girl lets out a slow breath, pressing a kiss to your marked collarbone before murmuring, “still think we don't work?”

You huff a quiet laugh, shifting beneath her, “i still think you talk too much.”

She grins, biting lightly at your shoulder in retaliation before settling back down, “yeah, sure,” a pause. Then quieter, more serious, “you're not gonna run, are you?”

Your stomach tightens at that, at the way she asks like she already knows the answer, like she's bracing herself. You hesitate, your fingers playing with her hair.

You don't know what this is, what it means, if it even means anything at all. Maybe you'll still fight on patrol, still push each other's buttons, still refuse to admit how deep this thing between you two really runs.

But right now, here, in the quiet warmth of this bed? You don't want to leave.

“No…” you finally murmur, feeling the way her body relaxes against yours at the answer, “not tonight.”

Ellie hums, pressing one last kiss to your skin before sighing, “good.”

And for now, that's enough.

[revelboo]

Omg .. i love your writting💖💖💖 , please 🙏 🙏 drop another chapter of L.G. Fuad ( tarn's ) 🥺 , or any other lostligt villans , anything would be amazing to feast on

Sure!

L.G. Fuad Pt 10

Tarn x Reader

• Servos flexing, he watches you pointedly avoid looking at him. After his accident, you’ve been hiding in your blankets, shying away from his touch. Nervously chirping and little feet sliding on his berth to press yourself more firmly into the corner you’re hiding in, face turning towards the wall every time he tries to reach for you. Cringing away and he can’t really blame you. You haven’t stopped shaking and neither have his servos. Sitting on the edge of his berth, he vents and glances at you. Those big eyes staring and you immediately turn your head away from him, refusing to meet his optics. Terrified of him.

• So scared you’ll do something to make him mad again and he’ll do that to you again, you can’t stop trembling. His voice. It had been his voice. He’d growled something and everything had just stopped. Your body no longer working, no longer yours. And he growls softly to make you flinch, reaching out. Can’t help it as panic seizes you and you shove yourself tighter into your corner, heart racing when he leans and presses the tiny food bar pinched between his servos against you.

• Terrified eyes stare up at him to make him feel guilty. Watches you grab the bar and curl forward around it. Like you think he’ll change his mind and take it away. Deprive you food and water. Do you think that was a punishment? That it had been deliberate? “It was an accident,” he mumbles knowing you can’t understand him. Hadn’t realized his ability could even work on organics. And slipping like that? Unheard of. While the rest of the DJD delight in their wet work, he metes out mercy. Talking someone to death, slowing their spark until it just stops. Until they end. But he’s never done it by accident. Never in anger.

• And he’s reaching for you again, murmuring in his deep growl and you lunge to flee to the other side of the berth, but you’re not fast enough. He’s snaring you in his servos, lifting you to cup against his chassis as you struggle before going still. Trying to be good. To not provoke him into hurting you. And he’s singing softly, running a servo down your spine again and again. The touch soothing and familiar, but tempered with fear now.

• Little heart beating so fast against his servos, he eases back, pinning you carefully against his chassis when he lays down. Wondering how long it will take for you to trust him again. And why it matters to him. Why you matter. You’re just a little organic Nickel found. Irrelevant to the cause. A distraction. He hasn’t even wanted you. But he enjoys your little smiles, the feel of you in his hands. You’re much too soft to survive long out here, too gentle and kind in a hard, cruel universe. Doesn’t want to see those eyes haunted and dead with fear, wants you to smile for him again. To sing with him. To not fear him.

Previous

[jillsandwhichs]

Forced to love you

Chapter 11 to Joel Miller x Reader Smutshot Collection

Masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: You've been forced into an arranged marriage with Mr. Miller, a rich businessman, also known for being a bit cold and straight forward. Neither of you wanted this but you suppose you two will make it work somehow

Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Married

WC: 4.0k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: Smut - Making out, Dirty talk, Oral (Both receive), Overstimulation, Spanking, Protected P in V, Doggy style, Hair pulling, Choking, Clit rubbing, You both finish, Slight aftercare

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

Placing your purse down on the marble counter, you took in the large cliff side mansion you're inside of right now. The large window panels all along the kitchen wall display the beautiful bodies of water and all of the colorful homes surrounding it. Greece is really such a beautiful place - you just wish you weren't here on these terms. The terms of a honeymoon you didn't even want.

Oh but father & mother dearest know best, right? At least they think they do. Having you merge with another wealthy family is just their way of further building their empire. Of course, you have received the short end of the stick, again, being forced to marry Joel Miller - a wealthy business man with a broody attitude about him.

Speaking of, you turned around to see him carrying in your suitcases. He set them down and looked up at you. You looked away, gazing back out at the water, admiring how it glistened and called out to you. "Your father called me while I was outside, he wants to know how you're doing, so I suggest you call him soon." "Will do." "We are also to have dinner tonight, your father made us reservations in town, so dress up and look pretty."

You scoffed and looked down at what you're already wearing. It's a peachy pink flowy dress that goes down to just above your ankles. It pair with it, you're wearing sandals that your mother gifted you for your birthday a few months back. "Do I not look pretty right now." You couldn't care less if he finds you attractive or not, but seriously? This outfit is it. "You do. My apologies. Wear that then." Joel stated.

Admittedly, you blushed a little bit.

You didn't want to marry Joel, hell, you want to divorce him this instant, but he isn't the worst man. Earlier today, before the ceremony, Joel had told you he'd respect you and be there for you, which came as a surprise. Everyone told you he was an asshole who was all about work & money. Maybe he is, but he's been decent to you so far. It better remain that way.

"What time are the reservations?" "For six until seven. It's as a restaurant in the city, it's beautiful so don't worry, it'll be to your taste." "Do you think I'm some spoiled brat or something?" "Yeah." The audacity! You rolled your eyes and he smirked. "Don't roll your eyes at me." "Or what?" "You'll find out if you do it again." "Whatever." You turned back to face the windows. "I'm going to unpack my things, I advise you do the same soon." Joel said before walking off into the bedroom of the mansion - the singular one there is.

-

It's late now. Nearly 7:30 at night. You two had dinner and it was nice. Your father had made the reservations in hopes of you and Joel getting to know one another better - and you did. He does seemingly care about his work and his money but it surely isn't his life. Still, you're keeping him at bay. You're sure the two of you will be cheating on each other and despising one another in no time!

Joel is currently in the shower, you're in the room just outside of it. The bedroom is nice, it came with complimentary essentials and honestly anything you'd need for a week in Greece. You're originally from the U.S, Joel too, but your mother had you pick between either going to Spain or Greece and of course, Greece it was. That was literally the only thing you had say in when it came to your wedding, sadly.

Looking through the nighttime attire your mother packed for you to wear, you soon came to realize a theme. Literally everything is revealing. You scoffed and groaned loudly, all of the city could probably hear it. The most modest piece of attire that was packed is a short lenghted silky nightgown. The base color is pink with a lacy white trim. It's cute, but your mother obviously wants you and Joel to connect in more ways than one.

You have to work with what you have though.

You took off the clothes you were currently wearing and threw them into the basket on the other side of the room. Of course, you kept your panties on but removed your bralette - you shouldn't wear those to bed. The nightgown is comfortable. Soft & cozy. Glancing in the mirror, you smiled. You feel pretty. The sound of the shower turning off was heard and you sighed softly. Guess that's all the alone time you'll be getting.

Joel isn't a bad guy. You two just... Aren't made for one another. This is truly depressing.

Climbing into bed, you tucked yourself beneath the covers and grabbed the remote off of the bedside table. You told your father that if anything, you'll need a suite with a TV - it'll take your mind off of things. You doom scrolled through different channels until you settled on one with a cooking show. Not the best option, but it is distracting enough. As your eyes were casted upon the television, Joel walked out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel around his waist.

You were quick to look away. Admittedly, you felt wrong when looking. However, your brain is totally working against you. There's no denying he's an attractive man, because he is. You even said that to him. Attraction isn't the point though. He grabbed a pair of pajamas and began to change but in a way so you couldn't see, thank the Lord. At least he has decency!

When he was done, Joel ambled back into the room and over to the bed, where you were lying down. "Want me to take a different room? I'm sure the couch is comfortable enough." He said softly, just trying to get this ordeal done and over with. That's harsh. You won't do that to him. "No Joel, that's alright. If we're to be married for life, we better get used to this lifestyle." You snorted with sarcasm, scooching over on the bed to provide him with some room.

He nodded and sat down, running his hand through his damp hair. You couldn't help yourself - you gazed at him. Wow, he cleans up nicely. Too bad this marriage was an arranged one. You sighed deeply and he noticed. "You good?" "I'm fine. Just tired." You said softly, nestling your head against the pillows. He nodded in agreement. "Yeah, me too." He laid back and shut his lamp off, but you left yours on.

"Going to bed already?" "Trying to." He said in a deep voice, "Mind turning that TV off?" Ugh. "Not at all." You shut it off and laid back just as he did. Well, this is awkward. You're laying in bed with a man you met today, married and had dinner with. What a fucking shit show. You rolled over to face him and his eyes were already on you. Behind the bed frame is a large window, the moonlight casted down onto you two, specifically you & your face. It's pleasant, honestly.

Joel sighed deeply before clearing his throat. "You know, for what it is worth," he looked into your eyes, "I don't think you're half bad." He chuckled and looked down. You giggled and nodded. "Everyone said you were an asshole, I'll admit, I was nervous to meet you." "Eh, I definitely am an ass but to my now wife, I won't be. I can't be." He mumbled and looked back up at you, his eyes stark & piercing, making you feel a certain type of way.

That made you smile. This man isn't so bad after all. You know he'll make a good friend. Hopefully you two can sort out being with other people later, it'll be for the best. You sighed softly and viewed into his eyes once again, this time they were more gentle and kind. How sweet. "Is everything okay?" You whispered, biting your lower lip. "Of course." He nodded. "By the way," Joel smirked and looked you up and down, "that nightgown suits you well." He murmured.

That made you blush, truly. How kind of him to say. You thought the same thing. "Doesn't it? I like it a lot... Yeah, unfortunately, mother dearest only packed me... Sexual attire... So..." You snorted. "Well, that ain't so bad..." Joel said in his normal voice. "What do you mean?" "Uh," he chuckled and broke eye contact, "Nothing sweetheart, ignore me."

Sweetheart? He's calling you names now? It made your stomach heat up. You slowly nudged closer to him without even realizing it. "Sweetheart? Admittedly, I like that." You giggled and you were now closer to him, so close you could feel the warmth emitting from his jacked build. "Hah," Joel laughed, "Figured you would." His laugh is... Adorable. That laugh coming from a big burly man is the cutest thing.

Maybe you could learn to... You don't know, care for this man in more ways than one?

Joel gandered back up at you, his gaze back to that starkish glaring one but this time, there was something more in those brown eyes of his. Something of adrenaline and/or ecstasy. It made you get slightly shy, really. "Joel?-" you were instantly cut off by his lips pressing to yours in a manner you didn't expect. You moaned immediately and encased your arms around his neck, Joel quickly rushing to get on top of you.

His hands pinned yours above your head and his lips rapidly moved with yours. This escalated so fast. You can't even think straight. "Wait, wait," you kissed him back and smiled, his hands holding your wrists firmly. "Hmm?" He muttered out, beginning to kiss your neck side crazily, his lips all over, leaving marks and presses. "This is totally shocking, are we gonna?-" "Am I going to fuck you? Only if you want me to."

God damnit, why did him saying that turn you on? You're a virgin. The most you've done is suck a guy off and it was terribly embarrassing. "So, do you want me to?" Joel added, stopping his kisses and awaiting an answer. Do you? This man is your husband, yes, but only as of today. You feel nervous. "I..." "Yes or no? I won't be upset." He whispered softly, his lips so soft against your neck.

"Yes."

It came out so smoothly & simply, as if this was meant to happen. "That'a girl." Joel smirked against your neck before kissing your lips again and slipping his tongue into your mouth, allowing it to intertwine with yours. It felt good. He makes you feel good. Unfortunately, this is a battle of Lust vs Love and lust is heavily taking over. Either way though, you're too deep now to back out and really, you don't even want to. You want him to take your purity - he is your life long partner now.

As the two of you kissed, it was a heated one. You haven't kissed someone in such a long time, you forgot how exciting it is. His hand trailed down to his shirt before he took it off, throwing it on the floor beside the bed. You took your chance to feel up on him, touching his chest and his lower abdomen area. You felt his V line and it is so prominent - that really turns you on. Joel is sexy. Maybe him railing you won't be so bad...

He smiled as you felt him. You touched all over his torso area. He's built and he's built well. "Can you do something for me?" He whispered into your small ear before kissing it gently. "Mhm." You whimpered out. "Have you ever given a man a blowjob before." He pulled away and smirked. Oh, you know where this is going. "A long time ago, yes." "Hmm," Joel smiled and kissed your forehead. "Wanna do that for me?" He asked you, so kindly. "I do." You nodded. You do.

Joel nodded and adjusted his seating position. Now he was sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard. Perfect positioning for you to make him all sorts of dumb. You smiled and pulled your hair back, ensuring it won't get in the way. He is wearing a light pair of sweatpants, some that'll come off rather easily. The imprinting of his hard cock is noticeable. You're practically drooling at this point.

You pulled him out of his pants, a slight bit of pre cum lies right on his tip. So hot. So sexy. You bit your lower lip before wettenening them, overall just preparing yourself. "You'll do so good baby." Baby... Oh fuck, that's so hot. You smiled and leaned down before quickly wrapping your lips around the head of his dick, just testing the waters. Joel was haste to seeth and let out a faint grunt. "Oh yeah, this is gonna be good." He murmured to himself.

Then and there, you started to suck his cock. He's hard, rock hard. The first guy you ever blew wasn't like this. In a way, you're glad Joel is this turned on, it shows that maybe this isn't just a lustful thing for him. But what do you know? It probably is. I mean, you two will eventually have sex, especially if he doesn't agree to the affair orders. Enough of that though, you just wanna focus on pleasuring him right now.

You swirled your tongue all along his cock, from the base to the tip, all over. Joel simply watched you in awe. There's no denying your beauty and watching you of all people give him a blowjob, he's under your spell. You used your hand to jerk the spots you weren't focusing on as you licked his tip. His pre cum was slightly thick and it had a sweet taste to it. God, you want to swallow his semen terribly.

You closed your eyes as you moved your head faster, suckling his cock as quickly and perfectly as you could. "Fuck, that feels so good." Joel moaned and his hand now rested on the back of your head. "Good girl, fuck." He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. You're like a witch, winding him under your seduction. He pushed your head down slightly, forcing you to take his dick deeper into your mouth.

After a little while longer, he twitched in your mouth and that's how you knew he was just about to finish. You took the opportunity to shove your head all the way down, his tip hitting your throat and your eyes as watery as ever - and it worked. "Christ, oh fuck." Joel gasped out as he came deep into your throat, his sweet cum seeping into your mouth until you swallowed it all. Joel snickered and gazed at you in surprise.

"Holy fuck, you got a mouth on you." You giggled at his words. "So I've been told." You smiled. "Yeah? Come here." He grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap. You laughed and kissed him, your lips locking with his. He breathed in deeply as you kissed him. Your kisses are full of ecstasy and need. "I want you to ride my face." He stated in between kisses. God. That's just what you need.

Once again, he fixed his seating position and this time, laid all the way back until his head was on the pillow. "I've never done this before." "You don't got anything to worry about, I'll be doing all the work. You just sit on my face and relax." The way he talks is so attractive, really. You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Okay then." You took off your panties and threw them on the ground beside his shirt from earlier. "Now c'mere."

Listening, you climbed over his body and over to his face. His hands held onto your thighs and he pulled you down. You felt the slight prickle from his beard on your area and you sighed deeply. You know Joel will take good care of you. "Just take it baby." Was all he said before he then began to feast upon you. This isn't how you expected it to feel. It feels amazing. Joel really knows what he's doing. "Oh Jesus Christ." Your head was already tossed back.

His tounge was clearly all over your pussy, your so very wet pussy. You moaned loudly and held onto the headboard. It definitely feels a bit awkward & unhinged but fuck, Joel is just going at it, how can you not just allow it? "That feels so fucking amazing." You laughed and looked down. His eyes were closed. He's in the moment. All he wants to do is please you and to taste you and God, you taste heavenly.

Gripping the bedframe, you began to slowly grind your cunt against his face. You can't help yourself, it feels too good. "Oh Joel." You moaned softly, your body shaking faintly. His hands held onto your thighs, he was literally gripping them with force. His tongue protruded at your hole, sticking it in and out of it quickly before going back to suckling on your pulsing clit. You're so wet. You're so fucking horny.

This is not how you expected tonight to go.

"I feel like..." God, you haven't felt this in a good bit. It's only when you're touching yourself that you do. "Cum for me sweetheart." He detached from your pussy only for a moment and just to say that. "Oh fuck!" Your body shook and your eyes squeezed shut as you came. Joel didn't stop. He sucked and licked all over as you came. It was so overstimulating. "Oh, fuck, stop, stop!" You yelled out and he was detached just like that.

You got off of his face and giggled loudly, looking at him as you caught your breath. "That was great." You snickered and layed back. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." He smiled and leaned over, kissing your cheek, then your pretty pink lips. "I still want you." You swathed your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. He smiled into the kiss and nodded. "Here." He pulled away from the kiss and flipped you over, landing you on your stomach and pulling your ass up.

Doggy style, hmm, okay.

You giggled and rubbed your rear along his manhood, causing him to get hard all over again. "Dirty girl." He murmured before spanking you, causing you to moan loudly. You didn't expect that. You guess this man is kinky. "Are you a virgin?" He whispered into your ear before kissing behind it. "I am." "Okay baby, I'll be gentle." He said in a soft tone before pulling back behind you. He pulled his pants down, then lifted your nightgown up, revealing your bare ass to him.

Joel reached over and grabbed a condom from the drawer. There were some in the bathroom too. Honeymoon suites do not mess around. He slipped it over his hard cock and looked back down at you. "If it hurts at all, just tell me." "Okay." You nodded and smiled, looking straight ahead as you waited for him. Within that minute, he stuck himself inside of you, slowly and passionately. You moaned and felt your insides tighten at the sudden feeling.

"Loosen up baby, it'll feel better." You had to calm yourself down. You're suddenly nervous and a bit on edge. "Want me to stop?" "No, please no." You said softly, holding onto the bedsheets below you. "Just be gentle." "Of course." Joel responded. He began to move but his strokes were subtle and gentle. He doesn't want to hurt you. "You feel so good." He said in a deep voice, pushing himself in and out of you.

It's a whole new sensation. It feels like a delicacy. Goodness, it's great. "It does feel nice." You giggled and nuzzled your head against the bed, just letting loose and allowing Joel to make the most out of this expirence. "You're so beautiful." He whispered before his movements picked up, but barely. He just wants you to be okay. "Just like that." You moaned out and closed your eyes, now just relishing in the feeling of him within you.

A little bit after you entirely adjusted to him, his hips rocked against your ass a bit quicker now. The feeling was exquisite. You've never felt this way before. "So fucking tight, Jesus Christ." Joel grunted as he fucked you, his dick going into you at a pace in which was perfect, it was magnificent. "Joel!" You moaned and attempted to lift your head up and as you tried, he shoved you back down, his hand going to the back of your neck to keep you in place.

Oh, you liked that. It was sudden but very arousing.

As he slammed into you now, his pace not gentle as it was, all you could do was take it. Like this, it is even better, you just needed a minute to adjust. "Maybe this marriage won't be so bad." You giggled out to Joel and he smiled, though you couldn't see it. "That's what I like to hear." He spanked you again and this time, your back arched even more. This is amazing. You really didn't think this would happen but wow, what an outcome it is.

Joel's hand trailed up into your hair and somehow, you knew what he'd do because before you knew it, he was pulling on it. Your head was being pulled back roughly but the pain mixed with the pleasure was perfect. You moaned loudly and held your breath as he fucked you, hard. Him pulling on your hair, fucking you and talking to you all at once was too much.

"I'm gonna cum again." You moaned out, closing your eyes. "Cum for me sweetheart." He whispered before reaching over and holding onto not only your hair, but now your neck. He lifted you up until your back was against his front. His hand was now around your neck and his other around your stomach, holding you close. This is it. You moaned softly as you felt his plunge into you a few more times until he ultimately came first, which then caused your undoing.

As you came, he caressed your clit with haste and your body shook, even more than it did with your first orgasm. "God, you take it so well." Joel grunted as he kissed behind your ear whilst rubbing your nub and pushing himself into you. There were so many feelings all at once, it was amazing. You giggled and bit your lip, closing your eyes and simply intaking the enjoyable & pleasurable moment.

Coming down from your high and snapping back into reality, Joel pulled out of you with a chuckle and you two laid down on the bed together. He took off the condom and set it on the table; He can throw it away later. "So..." You began with a faint giggle and Joel bellowed. "You were amazing." He leaned over and kissed your forehead. "Are you okay? Did I break ya?" He joked. You nodded. "Yes to both." He laughed at your sentence.

"I feel so..." "Hmm?" "Good." You giggled and spun over to face him. "Let's do it again!" You climbed on top of him and he laughed out, holding your hips. "Let's do it then."

[haikyu-mp4]

An Olympic medal in pettiness – Oikawa x reader wc 757 – gn!reader, brother!Kageyama

It took your brother a long time to come to terms with the fact that you married Oikawa Toru. The years you spent rekindling your sibling bond with him were worth it, though, and you were happy to have him visit your family in Argentina. After all, your son was becoming a big fan of his uncle, even though he didn’t visit often.

“Uncle T!” the boy squealed, catapulting himself into the setter’s arms the second he had put his bag down in the hallway.

Tobio grabbed him with an oomf and put him on his hip, and the bright look in his eyes was a marvel to witness. “Hey there, Spiderman.”

You gave him a side hug and a simple greeting, asking about his flight and everything, until Oikawa eventually came through the door. He had picked your brother up from the airport and had to park the car before coming inside.

It would be a lie to say that the tension between those two had dissipated after all these years, but at least they were civil and found interesting conversation topics in their different countries’ leagues and eventual international games.

The first day ended with Kageyama heading to bed almost as early as your son after such a long day of travelling. Before bed, he had spent some time learning about little Oikawa, which came with a promise of playing volleyball in the yard the next day.

That morning, you pulled Oikawa out of bed to make breakfast. “You get the eggs,” you commanded, kissing his cheek and continuing to set the table with everything else. “I need you to be especially mindful of my brother today, love.”

He looked at you like you insulted him, pointer finger pushed into his chest. “Me? I’m being an angel!”

You snorted and shook your head. “You’re being nice, but who knows what happens when you get out there. Please remember that our son might want to bond more with Tobio today, and it’s okay if you lose on purpose now and then.” 

“Forgive me if I think he has more to learn from me, I’m just saying.”

Rolling up a kitchen towel with practiced precision, you flicked it to smack his ass with it. You giggled as he glanced angrily between you and the eggs that he had to keep watching so they wouldn’t burn.

“I’ll get you for that!”

At lunch, they were all jittery at the thought of playing later, your son telling all about his training and how he hoped to become a starter when he went to middle school. He also raved about his other uncle, Shoyo, who visited from Brazil once in a while, admitting that the ninja was his favourite player even though he wasn’t a setter.

When the sun had settled a bit lower in the sky, Oikawa and Kageyama made their way outside, one carrying your son and the other a volleyball. You trailed behind them, smiling at the heartwarming scene but slightly worried for what was to come.

“Uncle T, I saw you setting for Sho at the Olympics. You have to teach me how to set like you!”

Oikawa looked at your son in pure betrayal, then at you for some mental support. You held up one fist and lip-synced ‘stay strong’ for dramatic effect.

“Are there any shrimps like him on your team?” Tobio asked, not catching Oikawa’s emotions at all.

“Not really.”

“Then I don’t think your uncle knows anything I can’t teach you,” Oikawa quickly said with a petty smile, not letting Tobio finish his thought. This time, he didn’t turn to you, already aware that he did exactly what he wasn’t supposed to.

Tobio frowned, stopping as they reached the little net. “So that’s how it is.”

Oikawa put your son down and shrugged. “What can I say? One of us won the Olympics, and it wasn’t Ninja Shoyo.”

While they quarrelled, you decided to cheer for your son instead, as he seemed to ignore both of them to go for a spike serve. You clapped excitedly as he hit it like his dad taught him, then cheered even louder when the ball hit Oikawa square in the head.

As the older man stumbled back from the surprise impact, Tobio turned to your son and gave him a thumbs up. “Good power, but that one was definitely out. I’ll teach you.”

Your son had them both wrapped around his finger and would be getting all the coaching he wanted and more, that’s for sure.

masterlist

requested by @toge-maki for my event, anything for you <3 BIG thanks to @cottonlemonade for helping me with the plot!!

[nanamiskentos]

➤ 𝐉𝐉𝐊﹙ 脹相 : CHOSO KAMO ﹚ ─ the death painting cw ─ MDNI. canon!choso, óràl (m. receiving)

"and don't get me wrong," choso huffs, his breath puffing out like steam escaping a kettle. pale pink lips pouting, "i know yuuji's got a heavy burden on his shoulders, but he could really stand to try and take my advice a bit more, don't you think?"

huh. no response. choso's scowling now. cinnamon-hued eyes thinning into slivers, searching for where on earth you disappeared to.

thin brows furrowing, "my love?" the end curling into a question as uncertainty colours his tone. choso's had a long day training thus far, and it didn't help that upstart who shoulda' stayed in that damned box — gojo satoru, seemed to occupy most of his younger brother's attention. diverting his attention away from the important lessons that his petulant older brother was trying to teach him. eso and kechizu were never so stubborn.

with a sharp exhale, choso pushes himself up from the seat, smacking his thighs in frustration, but not before —

"sit back down, cho."

choso's mouth goes bone-dry, nerves going into some twisted form of sensory overload as he tries to calm the blood rushing through his pounding heart before the muscle explodes. but it's too late for the blood rushing down south, already pooling in a satisfied coil over his groin.

he hasn't the faintest clue on where you managed to swipe away his robes, but he thinks he may yet be the luckiest man (no, wait, let's not unpack that yet) alive. amber eyes raking over how the cream linen drapes your form so perfectly, clinging to every curve that he loves to worship.

but choso is sharp, he doesn't miss the mischievous glint in your eyes nor the way that your teeth sink into the flesh of your lower lip. teasing, watchful. he should have known better than to be caught off guard like this, but choso truly cannot even bring himself to care about how much of an effect you have on him. how you unravel him to the core.

"you're lookin' pretty frustrated, baby," you're purring, already stalking closer so choso has to tear his eyes away from the swell of your chest and back to somewhere more polite and acceptable. think, choso, think of something smart to say. something that isn't sleazy, and something that hasn't been concocted by the heat throbbing and pumping straight outta' his cock.

but there's some awful lag between his brain and his tongue, and choso can only let the crimson flush build up, painting the back of his neck awash. watching as you snicker, knowing that the half-curse is practically one touch away from trembling in your hold. well, you can truly give him something to quiver about now.

"had a rough day, is all," choso rasps, and he doesn't even seem to be aware of how his vocal cords have turned to a husky granite. loose strands of chestnut-dark hair falling over his eyes as his pink tongue comes out to moisten his lips, mind whirring on how to turn this loss of composure into a win, "uh, it really sucked, you could say. mhm, i guess that's how i'd describe it."

you're already seated between his knees, head gently leaning against the broad muscles of his thighs. hands already pawing at the loose waistband of his ivory martial pants. unimpressed eyes blinking up at him, "what did i say about bad puns, cho?"

"that they're no good," choso murmurs, doing his best not to shudder as your nails lightly skim over the thatch of dark curls past his hips. but because he truly can't help himself, he has to add on, "that they blow."

he's really a natural born comedian, choso thinks to himself, it's just a shame that no-one else can really see past the gloom and doom to appreciate his natural wit.

you're pressing a gentle kiss to the base of thick shaft, and choso has to muffle a loud groan to prevent himself from coming undone already. fuck, he was far more sensitive than he anticipated but how could he not be? when you're proving personal love and care to each thick, throbbing vein that spirals up his cock?

choso shuffles in his seat, muscles already twinging as he parts his thighs. giving you more room to giggle and slot yourself into that gap, allowing you to firmly reach for his shaft and giving it a firm one, two! pump. already managing to pull out slick beads of translucent precum from the pink slit.

"sooo, how's that feel, baby?" your tongue barely brushing against the tip of his cock, applying the most gentle and teasing pressure that makes choso press his lips together firmly. your mouth parting to try and take as much of him as possible past your lips.

"g-good, real good," choso breathes out, tawny eyes already reaching skywards to thank the heavens for bestowing this upon him. he's panting, hands flailing in the air to clutch at the air, then at the thin material of the seat before settling at your scalp.

but he's gentle with it, determined to not apply too much pressure, to not delivery any sharp stings of pain. not when you've lavishing him with such attention, your fingertips now resting on his bare thighs as your mouth steadily bobs and releases with a sticky pop! each time you pull back.

and god, choso's entirely obsessed with how you press against the underside of his cock with a lil' more firm pressure. laving right up against the girthy veins in a way that makes his muscled abdomen tense and flex with each new wave of pleasure.

"m-my love?" choso's eyes are shut now, dark lashes fluttering against splotched skin as he feels something creeping up on him. he's sensitive, so sensitive now and each caress of your loving mouth has his thighs shaking, "i think 'm gonna, hah, i'm 'bout to — what the fuck?"

choso does pride himself on being an exemplary role model and a high standing member of whichever society will have him, so he doesn't actually curse quite often. but this situation entirely calls for it, and he can only swing his hazy eyes open to blink down at you. dumbfounded as you're already smiling like a minx. pulling yourself up, and up and —

oh. well, choso's never been one to complain. not when you're gently positioning his large hands against the ties of the robes, nudging him to pull the linen off so your bare skin can be lavished by him. a gentle kiss being pressed to his bite-stung lips, "wanted you to cum in me, silly."