#but it turns out i have no idea how to draw clothing from looking at 17th century artwork

[heartfullofleeches]

"Yo, V- Think we're out of ice."

"Check that deep freezer my parents sent, I just kinda throw shit in there sometimes so......"

Eyes glued to their computer monitor, the brief flash of your reflection in the screen paused V in his tracks. Taking a painfully slow amount of time to remove his headphones, your partner turns in his chair to face you with that same unhurried pace in tow.

"Are you wearing my fucking underwear?"

Sipping from your glass of room temperature juice, you sluggishly hook the elastic band of the boxers higher up your waist - swallowing as you mutter a quiet- "Yeah, so? You haven't let me leave to get more clothes and I had to put on something while the ones I had on are in the wash. Good thing I had this shirt in my bag. You steal my clothes all the time anyway so you probably put wear them while I'm out too."

V stares at you with eyes you could only describe as a starving carnivore having found its dinner.

"You do wear the clothes I leave over here... Right?"

V blinks - the train of depravity chugging through his mind broken by the sound of your voice. Body facing the computer once more, the image of your bare thighs draws him back like a siren's call- V shakes his head as he pulls away from the sight, dropping their voice down to a whisper as they pick up their headphones.

"I gotta go. I don't give a damn about how important this match is to you- Until your partner is standing half naked in your doorway don't fucking talk to me about what's important."

Stirring your straw around your cup, the rustling of fabric goes unnoted as an idea crosses your mind. "We have some strawberries in the fridge... Should throw those in the freezer for an hour if I can't find the ice."

"Here."

Looking up, a topless V extends their fist tightly balled around the collar of his crumpled tee shirt. He pats his lap, scooting as far back in their chair as physical possible to make room.

"What's that for?"

"Either you put my shirt and sit in my lap or you take my boxers off and wait for your clothes to dry."

[keeps-ache]

redesign :D

[nereidprinc3ss]

baby fever

in which reader and spencer discuss having a baby while at work

fluff warnings/tags: fem/AFAB!reader, bau!reader, BOYFRIEND!SPENCER or husband if u so desire, discussions of pregnancy/having a baby (obviously), reader wants a baby, so does spencer a/n: god i need him so badly. should i write follow up smut?? mwahaha evil emoji......

The coffee finished brewing minutes ago, but you’re still standing by the pot, watching Anderson’s daughter toddling around the bullpen on chubby legs. She’s not very adept at walking, but her spirit is indomitable—every time she tips a little too far forward, she catches herself and gets right back up. It’s not like she’s doing anything particularly impressive or even interesting, but you can’t take your eyes off her. Every movement makes your heart twinge, every giggle or curious quirk of her head is so adorable it physically hurts in your chest. 

From your peripheral vision you see Spencer approaching, bearing his own empty mug, but not even he can draw your attention away from the adorable little pixie and her tutu and her pigtails. 

“That is the cutest kid I have ever seen in my life,” you whisper to Spencer, hoping the quiet tone of your voice will help hide how much you feel like cooing and squealing. 

He smiles to himself as he pours his coffee. 

“That’s Rosie. Have you said hi yet?” 

“I’m afraid if I talk to her I’ll try to keep her.” 

“She is pretty adorable.” 

You turn to him as he leans next to you on the counter, sipping his coffee casually. 

“Adorable? Spencer. Puppies are adorable. You’re not understanding the magnitude of what I mean right now. I can’t explain to you how much adorable doesn’t cut it. I’m not kidding about the child abduction thing.” 

HIs eyes slide around the room as he chuckles into his mug. 

“Let’s maybe not joke about kidnapping a child in FBI headquarters.” 

“I’m not joking,” you hiss. “I feel like I’m going insane. I just—” 

At the last second you stop yourself, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“You just what?” Spencer asks, adjusting the hem of your shirt with his free hand. You glance down, watching the care he takes in the tiniest detail that you wouldn’t have given a second thought to. 

“Is something wrong with my shirt?” 

His eyes flick up to yours, hazel tinted with mild surprise. 

“No. It just was sliding up your waist a little bit.” As he says it, his knuckles brush the bare skin of your torso. You suppress a shiver, studying his profile once he pulls his hand away and goes for another sip. 

“Can we have one?” 

Your inopportune timing results in coffee dribbling down Spencer’s chin as he quickly attempts to wipe it away, wide eyes torn between you and trying to assess the mess he’s made. 

“You--you mean like a baby?” 

“Yeah, like a baby,” you say, grabbing his shoulders and squaring them to you before dabbing the coffee from his face and jacket. He watches on as you clean him up, completely still except for his wandering eyes. 

“I thought we were waiting on that.” 

“Waiting for what? A better time? There’s never going to be a good time with this job. And it’s not like we’d have to quit. Look at JJ. She has two and still does it.” 

“First of all,” Spencer begins, quickly recovering from your surprise proposition, “I don’t love the idea of either of us being in the field with you pregnant. And secondly, JJ also has Will and her mother to take care of the boys. We don’t have that. We’re both here all the time.” 

“I don’t care,” you groan, trashing the paper towels once you’ve done the best you can with his clothing. “We’d figure it out somehow!” 

“Mhm. It sounds like you’ve really devoted some careful consideration to this.” 

You drop your head to your shoulder, giving him your best puppy dog eyes and pulling lightly on his shirtsleeve. 

“Oh, come on. You haven’t thought about it at all? My perfect brain and your pretty face fusing to create a future Nobel-prize winner? Imagine how cute she would be, Spencer, we could put her hair in little braids and pigtails and we could dress her up and she could be in soccer and ballet and—” 

“She?” he smiles, studying your face intently. You roll your eyes. 

“Yes, she. Obviously we would have a girl. You—” 

The idea of Spencer as the father of your daughter hits you like a tidal wave, stopping you dead in your tracks. The images materialize in your mind’s eye so clearly, it’s like they’re already memories, so real and tangible you have no doubt it must come to fruition someday. But if before, your ranting was mostly a silly fantasy—now it’s become a bit more intense. 

He seems to sense your shift in mood. The big smile thaws slightly as he subtly grabs your hand on the counter. 

“What? What’s wrong?” 

There he goes again. Being kind. Being perfect. 

Tears sting your eyes, but you don’t let them fall.  

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I just... didn’t realize how badly I actually wanted that until I said it out loud.” 

The concern in his eyes softens to pure affection as he runs his thumb over the back of your hand. 

“I want it too. And whenever you decide you’re ready I’ll drop everything for you.” 

His words are like compounding pressure to the deep heat within you—forming something so solid and perfect you don’t have to wonder if it’s real. A ten on the Mohs scale, a concept that gets closer to actualizing by the minute.  

Your voice is quiet, revelatory as you admire the amber facets in his eyes. 

“You’re ready?”  

“I’ve been ready for quite some time,” he admits. And at once you feel the certainty of him paint your past and your future with one broad brushstroke. One day you will look back on your life and remember the time before Spencer, and that will be it. There is before Spencer, and with Spencer, but never an after Spencer. He wants to create something utterly permanent with you. “Come here.” 

He sets his mug down, carefully pulling you forward so you’re toe to toe with your back to the rest of the BAU; so that only he can see you. Despite how good the two of you are at avoiding PDA, occasionally an exception is made. He tenderly wipes away the few tears that have sprung from your waterline and accepts your arms around his waist, mirroring your embrace and completely enveloping you.  

“I love you,” he murmurs against the top of your hair, quiet enough that nobody in the office has a chance of hearing it. You sniffle. 

“I love you too. Also you smell really good.” 

He chuckles, hand roaming up and down your back for a moment. 

“And that is why we are holding off on this at least for a while.” 

“What do you mean?” you whisper indignantly as he gently peels you off him. His hands remain a steadying force on your waist as he smiles down at you beatifically. 

“I mean let’s give it two weeks and see if you still want a baby when you’re not ovulating.” 

[mellosdrawings]

The Princes

Ten years later. When marrying a Prince turns a Queen and a Servant into actual Royalties.

Because Vil deserves a real crown and Jamil deserves to be treated better.

NOW I'M GONNA RANT ABOUT MY CHARA DESIGNS CHOICES AND ALL THE DISCOVERIES I MADE WHILE LOOKING FOR REFS! If you only care about art and funny doodles, you can scroll down for a handful of slices of life.

(Don't worry if you can't read my notes, I'm repeating myself better right under this)

Leona

-Lion: As you may know, one of my grievances with Leona is how his hair doesn't look like an actual mane despite being a lion. While I don't want to stray too far from the canon design with the usual drawings, that's the occasion for me to have some fun with a future version. Give that lion a beard and voluminous hair!

-Hair: First, get those bangs out of his face. Despite Leona being very confident, he still has bangs covering his scarred eye. I wanted him to finally own the aspects of him that may be scary to others (his UM, his scar, etc). I actually went with bangs framing his face similar to the ones he had during his Overblot. I wasn't sure whether to give him dreadlocks or curly hair, but I ended up choosing the free curls decorated with some atebas and braids so that Vil could have more fun styling them.

-Eye: Thanks @aria-faye for the idea, I decided to have his eye gradually lose its capacities with time. From a headcanon that, while the eye wasn't directly touched by whatever attack scarred him, the process of healing still had an impact on it and he gradually lost sight in his left eye years after years.

-Body: Not giving him a dad bod (yet, maybe in another ten years), but definitely giving him more voluminous yet casual muscles. Practical muscles with a healthy dose of fat and tissues. Also giving him two full sleeves of tattoos because I decided he should have much more than just his lion tattoo.

-Clothes: Went full Maasai dressing and Kenyan fabrics and beadworks. If you're not familiar with it, please go check it out, it's GORGEOUS!! Crown is beadwork too. He also has one Arabic styled foot jewellery.

Jamil

-Hair: My first order was to remove his double-faced hairstyle and also remove his bangs from his eye. Make him confident enough to show his whole face. Unlike Leona and Vil, he doesn't really want a crown though (he still feels weird about becoming royalty) so instead he uses a braid as crown. Also gave him a little goatee because I like facial hair and Jafar has a beard too.

-Body: He grew up! While he didn't quite catch up with Leona and Vil, he is now closer to their sizes than before, sitting at around 180cm. He kept his breakdancer/martial artist lean muscles but developed a bit of shoulders.

-Clothes: Went full Arabic dressing and fabrics (once more, go check the fabrics, they are pieces of arts). I gave him floral motifs instead of his usual fire/snake motifs (though he does have a snake earring and a fangs necklace) to symbolise his rebirth/blooming. Like Leona, he has one piece of jewellery that is beadwork.

Vil

-Hair: Here it was a bit tricky. Considering Vil's work, he likely changes hairstyles a lot, going from long to short for his roles instead of his wants. So I leaned into the little things he could add to his hair despite their constant changes, mostly jewelleries, beadworks and wool decorations he stole from his husbands. He also cares a bit less about them looking perfect and is allowing himself to be more natural. He doesn't have any facial hair (yet), keeping a youthful appearance for as long as he can. In another ten years though, he might start looking more and more like his father, beard included.

-Clothes: For Leona and Jamil's mental states, the three of them most likely started living in Sunset Savanna so they wouldn't freeze to death. Vil is well traveled so he can handle most temperatures without trouble, and he is used to dressing up in the local get ups. Here I decided to give him both African dress and Arabic fabric, and likewise both beadwork and golden jewellery. I gave him crown and heart motifs so he can keep being himself despite borrowing a lot from his husbands.

There, I'm done rambling. Here's some doodles, followed by some random headcanons.

-Vil does his husbands hair every morning and keeps giving them more and more intricate hairstyles. He developed a whole haircare and beard-care products set for them.

-When Vil is away for a movie, Jamil keeps his hair mostly down save for a few accessories.

-Jamil and Falena get along surprisingly well (to Leona's despair). Vil gets along very well with Falena's wife.

-Jamil acts as a Scalding Sands ambassador and still is the one to care for Kalim when he comes to visit, though this time he's doing it because he wants to and not because he has to.

-Vil got used to his new title immediately but Jamil struggles with it a lot. He still has a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that he is no longer a servant.

-The servants at the palace love Jamil because he always makes their job easier.

-Leona finally decided to put his wits to good use and became Falena's advisor. He still fights a lot with Kifaji about the direction to take with the country, but he managed to make some of his ideas heard to help with the staggering inequalities in the country.

That's all for now!

[freedomfireflies]

Knockout*

Summary: The one where Harry is a handsome stranger who always comes to your diner covered in bruises.

Word Count: 9.4k (jeepers, sorry!)

Content Warning: 18+, smut, slight exhibitionism, very brief violence

Your stranger is here.

He’s sitting in his favorite booth, fifth one down from the first row, directly next to the window.

He’s got his usual hoodie pulled over his head, obscuring any view of his face. His clothes are dark and seem to cover nearly every inch of his skin. His knuckles are wrapped in white gauze, but are stained with streaks of red.

And he’s looking down. Staring at the menu on the table as though he doesn’t order the exact same thing every time.

A cup of coffee – black – and a slice of pie.

He’s like clockwork. He comes in exactly five minutes after midnight, takes a seat in his booth, and orders his usual.

Then, he pays his bill, and he leaves.

You’ve grown used to him. Comfortable with the idea of his face and his voice and the strange, but unsettling presence he brings with him.

You find that it’s more unnerving when he’s not here than when he is. 

“Hi, Cherry.”

Your stranger’s voice cuts through the quiet diner and forces your attention from the mug of coffee you’re pouring. 

You glance up, finally able to see his face now that he’s lifted his head. His skin is littered with deep cuts and vicious scratches. There’s a bruise just by his eye that’s dissolving into an unsettling shade of purple and his bottom lip is split down the middle.

Even still, he’s smiling. A gentle upturn that looks almost painful given the cracked fibers and dried blood.

“Hi,” you reply softly, feeling your heart race beneath your chest as his eyes find yours. “Would you like your usual?”

Somehow, his grin gets a bit brighter. As though he’s touched by the question. “Of course,” he answers calmly, in a voice you imagine you’d recognize anywhere. It’s deep and sultry, but it crackles like lightning. Sensual in a way you can’t exactly explain. “What have you made tonight?”

“Chocolate,” you tell him, glancing back toward the counter where the pies are displayed. “With extra whipped cream.”

“Mm.” His hum is playful, and it matches the glint in his eye. “How much extra?”

“As much as you want.”

He laughs, and you swear fairies are born. “Then I will have a slice of your chocolate pie, with as much whipped cream as you’ll allow.”

You feel your cheeks warm as you nod and turn on your heel to grab his order. Setting the coffee pot down before grabbing a small plate.

Once it’s ready, you return, sliding it across the table beside his mug. “Is that all?”

“No,” he says simply, gesturing now toward the seat across from him.

And just like every other time, you feel your pulse jump. “I’m…I need to get back—”

“You don’t need to go anywhere,” he interrupts with a wry grin. “Please?”

Your lips roll into your mouth, and your heart lands in your throat. Your stranger has always been good at getting you to do what he’d like, and it seems tonight is no different. 

So, with a sigh, you glance back toward the kitchen. Checking to make sure you aren’t needed too direly before you slip off your apron and slide into the booth.

“There,” he hums, placing his arms on the table to learn forward. “S’much better, hm?”

And you can’t help but smile as you nod and glance toward your cuticles. Avoiding that vivid green that always seems to send your stomach into a frenzy. 

“How are you?” he asks next, and his voice is soft, as if attempting to draw your attention back.

Braving a glance, you lift your head, and meet his eye. “I’m all right. How are you?”

“Good. Better now.”

The flirtatious remark sends a rush of heat to your cheeks. But you don’t respond, instead reaching out your hand toward his. Allowing your fingers to dance along the gauze that’s wrapped around his knuckles. 

“It’s bad again,” you whisper, and you feel him study you. 

There’s a gentle pause. And then, “Not by much. It’s been worse.”

You suck in a quiet breath and hold it deep within your lungs. Turning his arm around in order to inspect the wounds painted near his wrist. “You promised.”

Even without seeing the full of his face, you catch his expression fall. 

“I know, Cherry,” he murmurs. “And I’m trying, I promise. S’just…not that easy.”

Your throat constricts, growing dry from the implication. “I know.”

It’s almost inaudible, but your stranger still hears it, and he sighs as he slips his fingers between yours. Pulling your focus back to him. 

“You know you don’t have to worry about me,” he says, squeezing your palm as if to cement the point. “M’gonna be okay.”

“Are you?”

He looks gutted. Ashamed of your disappointment. “It’s just something that I have to do.”

“Why?”

He considers this before shaking his head once. “I don’t know.”

It’s the same answer every time. You ask him who does this to him. Why he does this to himself. Where he goes, why he keeps going back.

But he never offers anything concrete. Just enough to keep you hoping.

He leans closer. Desperate to make you understand. “I’m gonna be all right, Cherry. I promised, didn’t I?”

“But this isn’t ‘all right,’” you argue quietly, once again studying his scars. “You hurt yourself. Or you let somebody else hurt you. And I don’t know why.”

He takes in a breath before setting it free. “I don’t know why, either. But it’s not forever. And I promised you I would be okay. So, I will be.”

You release him and pull yourself from his grasp. Creating a physical distance much like his emotional one. 

“I have to be,” he adds, and that charming smirk reappears. Popping a dimple from his cheek. “I’d miss your pies too much.”

Even if your insides have twisted, you can’t help but laugh. “I suppose they’d miss you, too.”

“Good, I would hope. Might be my second-favorite sweet thing here. Only after you.”

Again, his coy remark leaves you entranced. Hands gathering on your lap as you look out through the large window beside you. “You’re quite forward tonight.”

“M’forward every night. You just don’t notice.”

“Is that right?”

“It is. Can’t really help myself, Cherry.”

The familiar nickname feels like home. It was coined after the first night he’d come in. He’d sat in your section – this very booth – and made small talk while you served him. 

He asked for your recommendation, and you suggested one of the desserts. The pies were your specialty, and you made a new one every evening. He seemed charmed by this and ordered two slices.

That night was cherry. He ate every bite between sips of his coffee and compliments to you. Leaving nothing but crumbs once you came to collect his plate.

He told you he loved cherry pie. It was his absolute favorite. But he’d never had a pie as good as yours.

And from that night on, you became his Cherry.

He never asked for your real name, and you never offered. You supposed this was intentional. A way to protect you from whatever life he led outside the diner doors.

And in the few weeks he’s been coming back for yet another slice of your pie, you’ve learned only three things about him:

He always pays with big bills.

He drives a vintage, black ’69 Mustang.

And his name is Harry.

Anything past that you suppose isn’t yours to know. Yet despite that, you feel drawn to your stranger. Even if he only seems to exist after midnight.

“You weren’t supposed to be working tonight,” he says, calling your attention back. 

You glance away from the window just in time to see his frown. “Joshua asked me to cover a few of his shifts,” you explain. “I’ll be here through the weekend.”

“You covered him last week,” he reminds you, with just a touch of disapproval. “And a few weekends before that.”

Your stranger is right, but you merely lift a shoulder and let it fall. “I don’t mind. The extra money is nice, and the night shift is always quiet.”

“Not always,” he retorts, and you notice the pull of his eyebrows. “Not everybody is as kind as you, Cher. Not in this part of town. Or this late.”

You can’t help but smile at his need to shelter you. “I know. But Owen is here, and he makes sure to check on me from time to time.”

However, Harry’s expression seems to settle into something hard and unnerved. “And what if he gets distracted? What if he doesn’t see some loser trying to grab for you? Or talk to you? Or take advantage of you?”

His voice is rising, a gentle but obvious crescendo that turns the heads of the few patrons scattered about the diner. 

You reach for his hand once more, squeezing it hard to implore him to listen. “Then I will use my extensive training as a waitress and kick their ass.”

You can tell he doesn’t want to, but he smiles. Brushing his thumb along your wrist before looking down. “I’m only trying to protect you.”

“I know,” you whisper, dipping down in order to find his eye. “But I’m not the one who needs protecting.”

The air is charged with a sort of tension you can’t explain. He feels so close and yet so very far away. Your heart aches for your stranger, and for his scars that never heal.

“Hey,” calls a loud voice, ringing through the small diner until you and Harry both turn. You find a man sitting near the counter, wearing a camouflage baseball hat and flannel shirt. His beard is long and scruffy, and his expression is wildly annoyed. “Do you fucking work here or not? Been waiting on a refill for ten goddamn minutes.”

Feeling rather embarrassed of the way you’ve neglected the other customers and deserted your post, you quickly slide out of the booth and stand. Cheeks warm and heart racing. “Yes, of course. I’m so sorry, sir.”

You rush to check on the coffee pot near the counter, making sure that it’s hot and fresh before you approach. Then, you tip the spout into his mug, and refill his drink that’s already three-fourths of the way full.

You can see Harry watching you from his spot. A similarly irritated look behind his eye as he studies the man sitting before you.

Once the coffee has been refilled, you nod an apology, and begin to retreat.

“Not so fast,” the customer grumbles, clearing his throat as he straightens up. Forcing you to hesitate. “I want my check. And a slice of pie on the house. For my troubles.”

Your heart leaps into your throat, but you nod again. The Starlight Diner doesn’t exactly offer free pastries, and anything that a staff member has to comp comes out of the employee’s paycheck. 

Granted, one slice won’t set you back too far, but the shame will. The idea that you left a customer waiting while you chatted with a man you hardly know. It’s unprofessional and not at all how you’d like to be perceived in the workplace. As a mindless girl who merely doddles her day away. Fawning over handsome strangers and daydreaming about a life she can’t have.

“Absolutely,” you tell him, rushing to grab him a fresh piece just as Harry begins to stand from the booth. “Will that be all?”

“Don’t be stingy with the whipped cream,” he instructs. “In fact, I’d like to see you put it on in front of me. So I can make sure you aren’t trying to fuck me over.”

The blood drains from your face. You feel humiliated under the warm hue of lights strung up around the restaurant. Grabbing the can of whipped topping in a desperate attempt to please and end the interaction all together.

“Why don’t you watch your fucking tone,” Harry grits, approaching the man from his left.

But the customer merely scoffs, refusing to offer him even a disinterested glance. “Yeah, and why don’t you mind your own business?”

Suddenly, Harry’s hand smacks down onto the counter beside him, inches from his plate while the coffee inside his mug trembles.

You can’t help but jump, arm recoiling away from the pie while the entire diner grows quiet. Everybody’s attention has turned to your stranger. Watching him closely as he leans forward, and dips down to catch the man’s eye.

“Wasn’t a question,” he murmurs darkly. “You watch your fucking tone when you speak to her. Or I’ll watch it for you.”

And you can tell the older gentleman is a bit off-put by Harry’s distressing demeanor. Yet he remains rather calm, clearing his throat again before leaning back. “And what are you gonna do about it, cupcake?”

Harry’s head cocks to the side. “Would you like me to show you?”

“Harry,” you whisper, just loud enough to force his eyes to yours. “It’s okay. It’s fine.”

“Yeah, she’s fine, buttercup,” the customer snorts, spinning around to face you once more. “Now let’s go, princess. I don’t have all fucking night.”

His fingers snap together before he points toward the pie. Instructing you to continue applying the fluffy cream until you hesitantly continue.

The whipped desert sprays out of the can in a steady stream, piling higher and higher atop the pie until it begins to spill over onto the side.

Yet he doesn’t stop you. He simply nods and mutters for you to keep going. To fill the plate until he’s satisfied. 

And you know exactly why he’s doing it. Not to satiate a sweet tooth but to demean you. To force you under his cruel, sadistic stare until you fold like a house of cards.

Your stranger fumes from his place a few feet away. You can tell he’s desperate to intervene, but he obeys your look of frantic insistence. Remaining quiet while you oblige the customer’s request. 

Soon, the can runs out. The last few drops spewing from the nozzle until you’re left with nothing but air and an empty bottle.

With a hitch in your breath, you begin to withdraw your hand. He’ll have to drop this degradation act now, and you hope that he only demands the rest of his check before going about his night.

However, before you can fully retract your arm, a collection of grimy fingers dart out and curl around your wrist. Keeping you in place while the man’s eyes narrow and he hisses, “Did I say you could stop?”

But the moment his palm touches your skin, Harry is stepping forward, grabbing a fistful of his collar, and hoisting him from his seat. Then, he shoves him back against the tile wall just behind him, the connection so forceful, it knocks the gentleman’s hat askew.

The other customers, including yourself, gasp from the sudden act of violence. Watching as Harry steps up to him and sneers in his face with the vilest look of disdain you imagine you’ve ever seen.

“Don’t ever…” he seethes through deep, even breaths, “…put your fucking hands on her…again.”

And he’s terrifying. So utterly terrifying, with his busted knuckles, his cracked lip, and his bruised jaw. It’s clear he’s a threat, and the man he’s holding goes deathly pale as Harry keeps him trapped against the wall.

All he can do is nod his understanding, choosing to end the fight before it can begin while Harry – after a very long moment – finally lets him go and allows him to flee from the diner.

There’s a stillness in the café that makes your heart race. The few regulars that are left watching on with a mixture of sympathy and embarrassment. It’s not until Harry shoots them their own venomous glare that they quickly turn away and continue on with their meals.

You slump into the counter, letting the can drop to your side while the sound of a door flinging open echoes from somewhere behind you.

“The hell…is going on?” Owen calls, exiting the kitchen in order to get a better look around. He finds you first, raking his stare up and down your frame before looking to Harry. “What happened?”

“You fucking left her out here, alone,” Harry barks. “That’s what fucking happened.”

Owen’s eyebrows raise as he moves his attention to you. But you quickly side-step into Harry’s path, attempting to end another confrontation before it can begin.

“Just…a customer,” you finally answer softly, reaching for the plate in order to clear your regret away. “It’s fine. He left.”

Your boss nods once. “But he paid first, yes?”

Again, your heart sinks into your toes. Lashes fluttering when you realize his bill will be coming out of your paycheck. “He…um, no, he…he left before I could collect it—”

“Darling,” Owen sighs, and it’s heavy with disappointment, “what did we talk about?”

“I…I know. I’ll…I’ll pay for it—"

Harry’s palm suddenly smacks down onto the counter for a second time this evening. Yet now, there’s a wad of cash beneath his hand. From the looks of it, well over a hundred dollars.

“This will cover it,” he mumbles, turning his unforgiving stare to your boss. “And it’ll cover the rest of her shift, too. She’s done.”

With that, his fingers are wrapping around your upper arm before you can even wrap your head around his offering. Blinking wildly while Owen glances from the cash to you in an effort to piece together Harry’s instruction.

 But your stranger leaves you no room for questioning or bargaining. He’s pulling you out the diner door and into the dark parking lot before you can even bid your boss goodbye.

He strides between the cars before hooking a left around the building. Leading you toward the back alleyway where he normally keeps his car, the wet pavement squeaking beneath his sneakers.

 And during this fervent stalking, his fingers slide down from your upper arm and into your hand. Grasping it tightly as if to make sure he won’t lose you.

Perhaps a part of you would like to feel miffed or ashamed of what just took place, but you can’t seem to fault him for his reaction. He’s always been nothing but kind to you – even if he doesn’t always lend that kindness to others. Expressing his desire to protect you, even if he doesn’t know you.

You wonder if this need to defend is part of the reason why you’ve only ever seen him covered in scars and bruises. If he comes to the diner in the dead of night in order to watch over you. Like a guardian angel or vigilante. 

Right now, however, he disappears into the shadows, gently pulling you along with him until you see his car only a few feet away. He releases you at the same time that he releases a heavy sigh, running a hand through his dark curls as his hood is pushed down. 

“Harry…” you begin quietly, tentative of startling him.

“I’m sorry,” he says before you can even finish. “M’sorry, I lost my temper. I know.”

You watch the way he turns away from you. Bracing himself against the hood of the Mustang while dropping his head in what you only assume is remorse.

And your heart aches for him. For the gentleman that lives beneath the outlaw. “Harry,” you whisper again, stepping closer in order run your fingers down his back. Feeling the way his muscles tense before melting beneath your touch. “I’m not mad, I promise.”

“I know you don’t like it when I interfere,” he mumbles, and it’s almost swept away by the cold, early morning air. “But he fucking touched you, and I—”

“I know,” you interrupt tenderly. “I know, and I’m not mad. I’m glad you did it. I’m glad you were here.”

He hesitates, face turning toward his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You allow your chest to meet his spine. “Always feel safer with you.”

He exhales deeply, releasing something heavy before he’s turning around, and reaching for your cheeks. The soft, stained gauze slides against your skin, and his touch is firm. Keeping you in his embrace while he gazes at you warmly. 

“Are you all right, Cherry?” he asks now, thumbs sweeping beneath your eyes. “Did he hurt you?”

Your head shakes. “No. Scared me a little, but I’m okay.”

It’s clear he doesn’t like this, that familiar frown reforming as he holds you a bit tighter. “He never should have spoken to you like that. Much less put his fucking hands on you—”

“I know, but it’s okay,” you interject again, hoping to ease his stress. “I’m okay because you were here.”

And this is the only thing that seems to calm him. That familiar smile of his the perfect remedy for such a strange night. You don’t want to tell him how often this happens. Especially during the later shift. But that’s what you get for working at a 24-hour diner, and you’re starting to think this is merely part of the job.

And truth be told…you think he already knows.

His forehead meets yours, and you can’t help but grin yourself. Grateful for the comfort he provides – stranger or not.

“Speaking of which…why are you here?” you ask gingerly. “I thought you didn’t come in on my days off?”

“I don’t. But…I saw your car.”

“Oh…how?”

His smirk transforms into something coy. “I was driving by.”

“Oh, really?” you tease. “On purpose?”

The smile slips now, a more reverent look in his eye as he nods. “I like to check on you. Make sure you’re okay.”

And maybe in any other universe, this would strike you as odd. Perhaps even unsettling or disconcerting. 

But even if you don’t know him, you know him. You know his intentions have only ever been pure, and even without having much more than his name, he has always made you feel safe. 

You choose to believe in him. In the goodness of your stranger and the care he provides. Inside and out.

“You do?” you murmur, allowing your hands to rest on his chest. “How often?”

A beat. Then, “…every night.”

The alley grows quiet. Scattered streetlamps reflect off the pools of water that are sprinkled across the cement, warming the dark night with their sepia-toned beams.

And you stand there, just you and him, while the weight of the world seems to rest on his shoulders.

But instead of chastising him or asking any further questions, you push yourself up onto your tiptoes…and kiss him.

It’s not the first kiss you’ve shared, and you know, undoubtedly, that it won’t be your last. Your stranger has been stealing your kisses for weeks now.

And you suppose stealing isn’t exactly a fair comparison. After all, you’ve nearly pleaded with him to kiss you every time he’s come in. 

Not that there’s much need for begging when he’s so willing to offer them to you. Sneaking you away the moment your shift is through. Chasing you through the parking lot…pulling you into the backseat of his car.

It makes you giddy. You feel like a schoolgirl with a crush on the handsome senior. Slipping into the shadows where he waits. Letting him hold you, kiss you, touch you.

It doesn’t matter if you don’t know more than his name or what he does behind closed doors. You choose to share these special – albeit somewhat scandalous – moments with the mysterious gentleman in booth 505.

“My sweet girl,” he breathes against your lips. The wonderfully delicious nickname melting on your tongue. “Missed you.”

You want to remind him that it’s only been about two days, but you can’t. Because you missed him, too.

“And m’so sorry,” he says next, trailing his quick but fervent kisses down your neck. “So fucking sorry for being so bad. Never wanna scare you or make you anxious.”

A soft, delicate noise bleeds from your throat, and you cling to his much stronger frame as though you’re afraid you’ll simply disappear without him.

“Wanna make it up to you,” he whispers. “Will you let me, Cherry? Let me be good again?”

You nod, needing him to keep himself as close to you as he’ll allow. You want to settle him in your lungs, keep him snug inside in your chest. Against your heart.

And a large part of you just wants to keep him…always.

“Let me make it better,” he says, hands dropping to your hips in order to push you toward his car. Placing you against the door in order to trap you and deepen his kiss. “Let me be good, sweet girl. Be good for you.”

And he’s always good. Good to you, good for you. It doesn’t matter how he is with everybody else. 

“Please?” he asks again, leaning back just far enough to catch your eye. “Will you let me?”

He wants your explicit consent. Wants you to say the words before he continues, and you appreciate this stricter habit. 

“Yes,” you manage to answer, exhaling the word with the little strength you still possess. “Yes, please—”

He takes your hand before you can finish, guiding you over toward the backseat before swinging the door open and stepping aside.

“Lay down, baby,” he mumbles gently, pressing a kiss to the side of your head while guiding you in. “On your back, okay? Want you comfy.”

You do as instructed, dipping down into the vehicle before settling into the soft, leather seat. Flipping over until you can find a position you like. 

Harry is quick to follow, landing between your thighs before pulling the door shut. You both maneuver until he can hover his body above yours, keeping you beneath him as he runs a palm up the side of your leg.

His warm hand feels good against your bare skin, the dress you’re required to wear as part of your waitressing uniform bunching just at the top of your knees from the new position. But it’s like ecstasy, heating up your goose bumped skin from the nippy air outside. 

“How’s this, hm?” He squeezes your hip. “You all right, Cher?”

You rest your head against the door and nod, fingers already itching to reach for him again. “Yes, I’m okay.”

“Promise?”

“Mhm. Promise.”

The side of his mouth curls up, and it makes your stomach flutter. “Good girl. Gonna go slow, okay? Earn my forgiveness.”

He continues the lazy strokes to your thigh, falling all the way down to your ankle before going back up. It is slow, and it almost drives you mad. Because he knows what you want. And he knows just how badly you want it.

Things with Harry never go further than you. Something you’re almost tempted to find odd, but he’s a giver. That was made clear from the first time. He derives more pleasure out of your orgasms than he apparently does his own. He only ever wants to touch you, taste you, feel you. It’s never about him. 

You often wonder if there’s a deeper reason for this. If he’s denying himself release on purpose or if he’s merely terrified of getting close. And occasionally you wonder if he simply just doesn’t want to fuck you, but something tells you that’s not the case.

Maybe one day you’ll be brave enough to ask.

Tonight, however, it seems he’s still determined to put the attention on you. Long fingers gently scratching at your leg until you shiver. It makes him grin.

“Can I see you, baby?” he asks softly, letting his eyes trail beneath the hem of your dress. “See how pretty you are?”

Again, you can only whine pitifully as you motion your head up and down quickly. Wanting to succumb to his strong touch. Only feeling grounded if he’s there to hold you.

“Thank you, sweet girl,” he breathes, using his scarred hands to push your outfit up a bit higher. Revealing your quivering stomach and the delicate pair of panties around your hips. 

They’re nothing special. In fact, you imagine they’re rather embarrassing. A simple, tan fabric that does absolutely nothing to make your pussy look more desirable. 

Perhaps it’s a little silly, but you like to look nice for him. On the nights you know he might be coming to see you (which has been every night you’ve worked since you met), you tend to pick prettier pairs. 

Some with lace, some with little bows. Sweeter colors, sexier colors. Anything that might make him smile.

But you hadn’t anticipated seeing him tonight, and now, you almost want to shy away. Lashes fluttering as you look up toward the roof of his car.

But he doesn’t seem to notice. Nor does he seem to care about the color around your waist, his eyes growing wide as his attention glues to the mesmeric sight before him. Pink, bruised lips parting with wonder while he moves closer. 

“Cherry,” he exhales, the feel of his breath sweeping against your bent knee, “missed you so much. Been forever, hm?”

You nod again, braving another glance just in time to see his hand lower. And then you feel him. Feel his thumb pressing gently into the front of your underwear, just above where your clit lies.

Your entire body seems to spark to life like the flicker of a flame. And you gasp, subtly bucking up into his touch in search of more. In search of him.

He smiles. “S’it feel good, honey?”

You let out a soft breath, chest nearly caving in as you whisper, “Harry…”

He looks up, eyes flicking to yours as that coy smirk grows. “What, baby? You okay?”

Of course you’re okay. He knows you’re okay, but you’ve noticed he likes to hear you say it. He likes to know he’s making it better for you. That he’s helping, that he’s doing good.

When you don’t answer, he returns to your pussy, fingers strumming up and down your covered cunt like he’s playing an instrument. Tuning your body to his needs. 

“Can I touch you?” he asks now, dipping down to nudge his nose beneath your jaw. Pressing a soft kiss to your throat. “Wanna touch you…be good for you, Cher. Was so bad…just wanna make it better.”

He’s attempting to atone for what he did in the diner. To apologize, offer his remorse.

And even if you know he has nothing to apologize for, you can’t find it in you to deny him. Reaching up to tangle your fingers in his curls as you tug him closer. Kissing him fiercely.

He’s hard on himself. You know he is. You don’t know why. You don’t know what the cause is. But you can see the repercussions. They’re painted all over his body, and he wears them proudly. 

He curses against your mouth, and you’re reminded then of his busted lip. Instantly pulling away while you mumble an apologetic, “I’m sorry. I forgot—”

“No,” he nearly groans, slipping his other hand around the back of your neck to keep you close. “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind, I promise. I like it.”

His kisses become hard again. Anxious, desperate, and rushed. As though he needs you in order to survive. His nose knocking into yours from the way he readjusts himself. Wanting to take you deeper, really taste you. 

You’ve never been so happy in your life.

He only pulls away in order to slip your panties down your thighs, pushing them to your ankles until he can really see you.

His entire expression softens the moment his eyes find you. Filled with a certain kind of hope and indulgence as he gazes at you almost tenderly. Unable to resist reaching out and letting his finger brush down your folds. 

You make another noise, but he doesn’t notice this one. Too content to be touching you. Feeling you. Spreading you open just to watch you drip.

“So fucking good to me,” he murmurs. “You know that, sweet girl? So perfect for me. Exactly what I need and far more than I deserve.”

You aren’t sure what he means, but the implication makes you frown. Pulling on his hair a bit harder while he moves to your clit and begins to press down.

The pressure of his thumb against the more sensitive nerves leaves you breathless. Squirming beneath him from the rush of pleasure that only serves in making you needier. 

“Always so warm,” he muses quietly. Almost as if to himself. “So soft. So sweet. Can’t ever get enough of you.”

It makes your head spin the way he seems to adore you. The way he talks about your body as if he can’t believe he’s lucky enough to behold it. To feel it, to get to indulge in it. Worshiping you like you’re his religion.

He begins to rub your clit in slow, teasing circles. Kissing you once more in order to taste your whines and feed off your desperation. Wet noises fill the car. Not just from your pussy, but from his frantic kisses that echo between the foggy windows. 

It makes you shiver, loving the way he nips at your bottom lip just to leave you restless. The way he whispers your nickname before moving to your neck, pulling your skin between his teeth and smoothing over the mark with his tongue.

He goes faster. Chasing after your whimpers and the way you arch your body into his. Loving how excitable you get from only a few flicks of his thumb across your sensitive clit.

Then, he slows down. Exhaling a heavy breath as if bracing himself to edge you. Like it hurts him more than it hurts you.

And you mewl pitifully as you cling to his broader frame and tug him down into your arms. “Harry—”

“I know,” he coos, and it’s gentle the way he speaks. Sympathetic almost. “I know, sweet girl. But m’not done with you yet. Just wanna keep you a little longer. Is that okay?”

You bury your face in his neck and make another noise. Something akin to his name that gets lost in the way he curses.

“It’s okay,” he tries again, allowing you to use his body like a lifeline. “I’ve got you, baby. All right? M’right here, I’ve got you.”

He proves this by resuming his sweet torture. Circling the nerves a time or two more before moving down. Smoothing through your folds and lowering toward the pooling of arousal that waits for him. 

You hear him hum. “So precious. S’this all for me, then? Mine to play with? Mine to taste?”

You whine, “Yes, yes, yes,” as quickly as your mouth will permit, and he chuckles. 

The tip of his finger dips inside, presumably to collect everything you have to offer him before he’s lifting it toward his lips.

And you settle back against the door to watch. Enchanted by the way he places you on his tongue and sucks. His lashes fluttering and cheeks flushing from the taste.

You don’t imagine you’ll ever get used to watching him do that. After all, you’ve never been particularly…unbothered by the idea of somebody tasting you. Not even with past partners. You get too caught up in your own head. Worried about the taste, the feel, the smell.

Truth be told, most of the men you’ve been with before were never interested in you. They wanted what you could give them. And then they wanted out.

By all accounts, Harry is nothing like anyone else you’ve ever known. Not just because of the mystery that follows his persona, but because of his endless attention to you. To what you need, what makes you feel good. 

He devotes every second to making you feel like you’re God’s gift to Earth. A gift to him. Praising you for simply existing. Indulging in your taste as though you're the sweetest dessert he’s ever had.

Like now, while a deep moan reverberates from the depths of his chest. Filling the car and your ears like music, making your thighs clench around his hips.  

“S’why I call you my sweet girl, you know that?” he murmurs, sucking on his fingers until you’re sure there’s nothing left. And even then some. “So fucking sweet for me. Can’t ever get enough. Gonna get me addicted, baby. Might already have.”

The moment he takes his hand back out, you’re lifting up, and pressing your mouth to his. And you don’t even care if you can taste yourself on his tongue because all you really taste is him.

But the mixture of him, and you, and the slight tang of blood from the busted fibers of his lip is euphoric. Strange but lovely in a way you hadn’t anticipated. 

He seems to understand this despondency, growing a bit more frantic in his need to please. No longer focused on edging as he drops his fingers back to your cunt while his other hand moves for the buttons on your chest.

He pops them free one by one until your equally plain bra is revealed to him. But again, he doesn’t take notice of such things. Instead swallowing thickly at the sight of your breasts that swell behind the cups.

He kisses you again. And again, and again. Then he moves to your cheek and down your neck. Trailing his tongue toward your collarbone and along your sternum. 

You feel restless. Waiting for something – for him. You already know how magical his touch is. You already know the kind of pleasure he provides, and it nearly drives you mad to simply sit in anticipation. Stuck on his time.

Eventually he reaches your chest, lips moving for the curve of your tit before he’s making another noise and sucking into the tender flesh. Nipping at it, pulling it between hungry teeth. Smoothing over the marks with the warmth of his mouth while you reel.

Your hands disappear back into his hair. Stroking the curls almost fondly, nails lightly scratching at his scalp.

He’s always seemed to enjoy this. Instructing that you pull on him as hard as you’d like. That you tug and scratch. That you use him to inflict your pain and your pleasure. That you think of him first and foremost.   

Now is no different. He nuzzles himself further into your breasts while simultaneously sighing with contentment at the way your hand feels against his head. The way you keep him close to your heart. 

You’d keep him forever if you could.

You hardly even notice the way his finger has slipped inside. The way it strokes your delicate walls that flutter from the intrusion, tensing before relaxing in order to allow him in.

“There,” he whispers, pleased with the way your body obeys him. “S’okay. Gonna make it better. I promise.”

And you know he will.

“So tight today, baby,” he says, leaving another kiss to the swell of your chest. Open-mouthed and messy. “Has it been that long?”

You don’t know. You can’t remember the last time he touched you, although you’re almost sure it hasn’t been more than a week. The two of you have become rather insatiable for each other. Chasing after a kind of release you only seem to find within the hands of the other.

Those beautiful green eyes flitter up to yours, studying you closely. Benevolently. “Have you not been taking care of yourself, sweet girl?”

You take a moment to consider what he means before you feel your cheeks warm. Offering him nothing more than a quick shake of your head.

He frowns, brows pulling together. “Why not, hm? Thought you promised you’d try for me. Help make things better when I’m not around.”

You shrug, growing a touch embarrassed. “I know, but…it’s not the same. Don’t like it.”

“Is that right?”

Another shake. “Get bored.”

“Bored,’ he repeats, and there’s a certain glint in his eye. But instead of disappointed, he seems empathetic. “Cause it’s not the same, yeah? Your fingers too small?”

Now you nod, making a noise of agreement. 

He nods along with you, beginning to smirk. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Bet it’s just so frustrating, isn’t it? Trying to find all your sweet, little spots, but just not quite being able to reach?”

You cling to him as he stretches you a bit further. Doing everything you can’t do for yourself. Effortlessly curling his finger into that one spot until you begin to shake.

“Just like that, hm?” he mumbles, pressing another kiss to your collarbone. “S’that what you can’t find, baby? S’that what’s so achy?”

And it is. It’s so infuriatingly sore that it almost makes you cry. Wishing you could chase after that feeling until your heart gives out. 

“I bet.” More kisses to your chest. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna fix it, okay? Make it all better again.”

“Please?” you whimper, nails scratching down his broad back. Attempting to pull him closer. 

“Mhm.” He leans forward and brings his lips to yours now. His kiss quick but full of promise. “Always gonna take care of you.”

He begins to thrust the longer digit in and out. Slow enough to work you up but fast enough to leave you wanting more. Coaxing the muscles open before bringing a second finger into play.

The sounds of your wetness being pushed and pulled by his hand are sinful. Sending a chill down your spine and directly into your cunt.

You moan when you feel them, writhing a bit beneath his body until he has to press his leg into yours to keep you still.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he mumbles. Leaving another kiss below your jaw. “Know you can take it, baby. You always do. Don’t you?”

And even if that’s true, you aren’t opposed to the slight sting. Instead invigorated by it and the way he uses great care with you. Wanting to make sure you’re all right so he can please you the way he wants.

Yet somehow, it’s still not enough. Even with the way he curls, and pumps, and thrusts those beautiful digits into your pussy, you feel empty. Barely scratching the surface of that itch as he presses his chest to yours to calm you.

Your noises are becoming more pathetic. Your entire being heaving with the weight of promised pleasure in a way you can’t seem to understand.

His thumb presses into your clit every few minutes, attempting to guide you closer to your release, and it works. The combination making your stomach coil until you nearly see stars. Every cell in your body tightening.

“You close, Cherry?” His free hand moves for your face. Palm pressing into your jaw as the bandage on his knuckles sweeps across your cheek. “Hm? You gonna cum for me?”

And you are. You are, you are. You can almost taste it. Can feel it bubbling up from between your thighs, ready to unravel like the seams on your favorite sweater. 

“Yes,” you gasp, arching from the leather seat. “Yes, please…please don’t stop. Please—”

“Won’t stop,” he promises in a soothing tone, lips ghosting atop yours. “Never stop, I promise. M’gonna be right here until you do, okay? Go ahead. I’ve got you.”

And this is all you need. It happens suddenly and yet far too slowly. Pulling you apart from the inside out. 

You moan so loud, your chest shakes. Eyes rolling back and nails scratching down his spine as it hits you. 

Instantly, he moves his hand from your jaw to your lips. Palm pressing hard against your mouth in order to silence you as he whispers, “Shh, baby. Gotta be quiet for me, okay? It’s okay, you’re all right. Just let go—"

And you do. Allow your body to deplete itself of all energy as he works you through every goddamn second. Dragging it out as far as it’ll go. Increasing the speed of his flicks and thrusts. Pumping your orgasm out of you until it sits in his waiting hand.

“Good,” he breathes before finally removing his hand in order to kiss you quickly. Fingers squeezing the back of your neck as he brings you closer. “So fucking good, there you go. S’okay. Keep going, come on.”

And it’s so good, so wonderful. You feel like you’re floating, high up into the clouds. You decide then that he must be an angel, carrying you in his wings and setting you on a sunset.

But you’re still squirming, seemingly discontented, and he notices far too easily. “You okay, Cher?”

“More,” you whisper faintly. “More…please…”

“More,” he echoes. “My sweet girl wants more. More what, hm? What do you need?”

“More,” is all you say. Once again wiggling your hips down as if to sink his fingers in further. “More, Harry, please.”

“Oh. You want another one. Is that it?”

You nod silently, too strung-out to think in coherent sentences.

He chuckles again, kissing your other cheek before pinching your chin. “All right. Give you as many as you want, baby.”

Feeling incredibly grateful, you allow your trembling limbs to fall slack. Once again settling beneath him as he works to get you to your second.

But even as he resumes the languid but practiced thrusts of his fingers, you feel unsatiated. Eager for something else, but you aren’t sure what.

He realizes before you do. “S’not enough, is it?” he coos. “Need something bigger, don’t you?” 

That’s what it is, and you nod eagerly as your nails scratch down the sleeves of his hoodie. 

“Think you can take something bigger? Think you can take another finger, baby?”

Another nod. Faster, more fervent. Eyes pleading with him to give you anything he has to offer.

He obliges this, glancing down before lining his fingers up, and slowly slipping all three inside.

This stretch is a bit more prominent. He’s deliberately gentle, never giving you more than he assumes you can handle. 

And he watches you closely. Searching for any grimaces or winces of discomfort. 

When he finds none, he seems relieved, kissing up from your chest to your throat once more. “Good girl. There you go.”

You begin to writhe a little more ardently until he has to bring his other hand to your knee in order to press it down into the seat. Keeping you spread and still until you settle.

“Easy,” he coos gently, placing some of his weight onto your thigh. “Gonna have to be good, baby, and relax for me. Let me make you feel good, okay?”

You want to obey. You do, really. But the overstimulation and sensitivity from your first orgasm is almost too much. Making you choke on the heated air until you can hardly breathe.

“Like it when I take care of you, don’t you?” he asks you now. Licking a stripe along your jaw. “Like it when I steal you away from them?”

He’s right, you do. Perhaps you shouldn’t, but there’s something about the way he makes you feel as though you deserve more than this. As though you’re meant for more than the diner. He makes you feel invincible.

“Maybe one day I’ll take you away,” he decides. “Fucking take you from them and make you mine. Forever. For always.”

And you decide you like the sound of that.

Another moment of his strenuous torture passes before he leans back to watch. And you notice something in his face. Utter fascination and lust over the way your body bends to his will. Over the way it stretches around his fingers, the way he pulls it open.

He releases a deep, coarse groan through clenched teeth. Fixated on the way his fingers disappear into your pussy. “Taking me so well, baby. Know you’d take my cock, too, wouldn’t you?”

You whimper miserably, undone by the thought. You can’t deny that you’ve wondered what he’d feel like. All of him, stretching you open. Fucking into you while leaving you a panting mess.

You often imagine what he’s like in bed. In an actual bed and not in the backseat of his car or yours. What he might be like when he’s truly lost himself to the pleasure. Guiding his hips to yours, bending you into a hundred and one positions meant just for his indulgence. 

You wonder if he’d be just as careful as he is now. Just as devoted to you. If he’d be hard and fast or soft and slow. If he has dirty kinks, secret fantasies. If he likes the lights on or off. If he likes the bed or if he likes it up against the wall. 

You hope one day you get to find out. 

“Think you would, yeah?” he continues, sliding his digits all the way to the knuckle. The fibers of the gauze brushing against your clit. “Know you would. Be so good for me. This sweet little pussy would treat me so well, wouldn’t it?”

You nod quickly, pouting at him anxiously.

“I know,” he tuts, finally leaning back over to kiss you again. “Know you’d be such a good girl for me. Let me work you open until you could fit me…let me stretch you just right.”

You reach out for his wrist in search of something to squeeze, and it makes him chuckle. Teeth sinking into your bottom lip until you moan.

“Might take a while,” he muses. “Might take hours. Days. I’ll have to just keep you in my bed until you can fit me, hm?”

He attempts to pull away, but you chase after him. Looping an arm around his neck in order to yank him back to you. 

His smirk feels good against your lips. “M’not going anywhere, sweet girl. Just like to watch you. Bet it’d be fun to watch you take my cock, wouldn’t it? Watch it sink right into this tight little hole.”

He’s evil. Absolutely sadistic and it makes you groan against his tongue until he has to soothe you.

“I know, baby. One day,” he breathes. “I promise. M’gonna take you away and do it right. Make it worth it.”

The thrusting of his fingers becomes more poignant. Enough to drive a plethora of desperate moans from your chest as he nuzzles his nose below your jaw and simply breathes.

“Gonna worship you. Give you everything you deserve.” He sucks in a quiet inhale before dancing his lips along your throat. “Have you sit on my face until I can’t breathe.”

The image has your eyes rolling back. Even if you aren’t sure you’d ever feel comfortable doing so, you’re enamored by the idea. Of the thought of him holding onto your thighs, pressing you down to his mouth. Completely controlling you. 

“Can never breathe when I’m with you, anyway,” he whispers, and you almost don’t catch it. You wonder if you were meant to. “M’gonna do it right, sweet girl. I promise.”

And this is the vow that pulls you through to the other side. Large digits curling up into that one spot that makes your legs shake and you’re falling apart for the second time.

But he still doesn’t stop. Stroking, pressing, pumping even after the tears have begun to slip from your eye. 

“Keep going, there you go. Does it feel good? Feel so good, cumming all over my hand?”

And it does, but you can’t exactly answer. Can’t seem to do anything but cry out as you ride the wave and his fingers as though your life depends on it.

“Doing so good,” he murmurs gently, raising up to kiss you once more. Swallowing your pitiful mewling. “So fucking good, baby. M’so proud of you. Took me so well. So beautiful when you cum, Cherry, you know that? Could watch you forever.”

The sentiment makes your entire body grow warm. You’ve always wondered what you might look like when you orgasm, and truth be told, you imagine it’s not very pretty.

But to hear him say it now – so earnestly – makes your stomach wrench. Nails curling into the seat below as you lift off the leather and knock your chest into his.

He holds you as tight as he can before slowly pulling his fingers out. Relieving you from the overstimulation before putting you back in his mouth. Sucking until a string of saliva drips down his into the gauze on his knuckles. Painting it a much prettier picture than the red has.

After swelling every drop of you with a lewd groan, he finally pulls his hand out, and takes you into his arms. Kissing you through the remnants of the blissful rush.

“So good,” he says again, face burying back into your neck while stroking your thigh with his soaked fingers. “Always make me so proud.”

Your limbs tangle with his as you both slouch into the backseat. Allowing your heart beats to synchronize into one, steady rhythm. 

And once they have, you begin to grin. “Harry?”

“Mm?”

“Thank you.”

He exhales a soft laugh before leaning back onto his knees to get a good look at you. “What for, sweet girl?”

“Just for…this, I suppose,” you mumble shyly. “For all of it. Tonight. Standing up for me and…you know, this part.”

His chuckle becomes a bit more smug. “Are you thanking me for making you cum?”

“I’m…trying. I think.”

“Hm.” His grin is playful and so damn charming as he dips back down to hover his lips near yours. “Don’t have to thank me, Cherry. Believe me. It’s my pleasure.”

His teasing remark makes you giggle, and you kiss him hard before he has the chance to leave you again.

You kiss for a while. A long while. Until you can hardly breathe, your muscles beginning to ache and your eyelids beginning to grow heavy from the lack of sleep in this early morning hour. 

It’s not until you actually yawn that Harry finally remembers to pull himself away and reach for the panties around your ankles. “Shit, it’s late, isn’t it? Know I’ve kept you longer than I should have.”

With a quick shake of your head, you push up onto your elbows. “No. I’m fine, I promise. Just…cumming makes me sleepy, I guess. And you’re so warm. It’s nice.”

This makes him smile again, and that dimple of his makes your heart ache. “You know I’d keep you in this car until the sun came up if I could.”

“I know.” Your fingers outstretch for his hoodie, tangling into the material on his stomach while he guides your underwear back up around your hips. “Maybe one day, yeah?”

His expression softens, and you almost swear you see a flash of sadness behind that sage green. “Yeah. Maybe.”

It’s quiet as you rebutton your dress and pull the hem back down. And even quieter as Harry opens the door and slips out of the car, extending his hand toward you in order to help you out as well.

But once you’ve straightened up and turned to face him, you see that something has changed. A look of longing that hadn’t been there before etched between those scarred features.

His thumb brushes just beneath your eye and then down to your lips. Tracing the lines and dips before he sighs and cradles your cheek in his palm. “Are you gonna be all right?”

You place your hand over his and squeeze. “Are you?”

Another deep breath. Heavier and more forlorn. “You know I’ll try.”

“Promise?”

His forehead meets yours, and you both still. “I promise.”

And you choose to believe him.

You say goodbye, and regretfully let him go. Shaky legs carrying you back to your car as his eyes follow you all the way. Making sure you get there safely before you take off down the road and leave him behind.

A few nights later, you’re back for your next shift. And truth be told, you’re almost excited. Because having to go so long without him feels like a form of punishment. Like your days aren’t nearly as bright without him. And neither are your nights.

You can’t help but count the seconds as you go about your evening. Unable to distract yourself with the pastries no matter how hard you try. Thoughts drifting back to those chocolate curls and that devilish smile.

When midnight strikes, you feel relieved. Releasing a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding as you grab your notepad and slip out of the kitchen. Ready to greet him in his favorite booth.

But the moment you slip past the door, you find that the diner is empty. Not a single customer to greet you as you scan the floor in search of that familiar face. Even a glimpse of his shoes or the sound of his voice.

But the booth is empty, the diner is quiet, and it’s 12:06. 

Your stranger isn’t here.

I know not too much has happened yet but we are building up to tons more smut and plot and angst and fluff, I swear!! 😭💞

Next Part:

~ Whiplash*

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @lovebittenbyevans @caynonmoondreams @amberbambridge

[woewriting]

turning point (g!p)

pairing: tara carpenter | reader summary: tara calls you to rescue her from a bad date and things take a surprising turn. word count: 3726 warnings: mdni, +18 only! no ghostface au, reader has a dick, friends with benefits (?), clothed sex, language, smut in general. a/n: will you guys believe if i say the date part was inspired by a terrible date my coworker had? because it was and @wesstars is the proof of it!

masterlist

When the 7th episode of season 4 of Stranger Things started you felt your phone vibrating somewhere in between the cozy blankets. As you blindly looked for it, eyes focused on the TV in front of your bed, you felt it vibrating once again, but this time more than once. 

Holding the phone in your hands, the name “tara” followed by a small heart emoji showed on the screen with 4 messages attached to it. Pausing the episode, you unlocked the device. 

tara ♥︎ can you come pick me up? please this is the worst date ever 😭

Sewing your eyebrows together, you were quick to reply, asking for her location. 

tara ♥︎ im at the motel near the campus, green valley or something chad is showering and i told him i’d take an uber home because i wasn't feeling well and didn’t want to stay anymore please come fast

Typing a simple “omw”, you grabbed your hoodie, throwing it over the white tank top you usually wore to sleep along with sweat shorts that easily became a second skin.

It was easy to spot the building as a gigantic green neon sign took over most of the illumination of the empty street. You parked in front of it, patiently waiting for your best-friend as you sent a message letting her know you arrived. The place seemed expensive and well cleaned, unlike most cheap motels that took over the right side of the street near the campus of your college, still, it didn't appetize you to walk in.

Soon, the younger Carpenter ran towards you, sighing in relief when she jumped into the car. 

“That bad, huh?” You asked with a laugh, setting the first gear ready to go back home. 

“You have no idea.” Tara whined, turning on the heat, complaining about how cold it was outside in a whisper. “I'll tell you everything when we get home.”

“I'm watching Stranger Things.” The focus on the road in front of you as you took a right turn didn't allow you to see the indignation expression on her face, more dramatic than it was necessary.

“Is Stranger Things more important than me?”

“I’m about to find out what happened at the Hawkins Lab…” You continued, trying to convince her of your cause, but her next words made you look at her with raised eyebrows, a convinced smile of someone who won drawing her lips.

“He has a small dick.”

“I'm all ears, princess.” 

The return home didn’t take more than 10 minutes, especially with empty roads and yellow sign lights. Tara started telling about her date from the second it started, which was 5PM, the exact time she started to get ready. Honestly, none of that was necessary to reach the part that it all went downhill, but you didn’t dare to interrupt, you paid attention to every word Tara was saying as you carefully parked your car in your designated spot.

The second the elevator stopped on your floor, Tara had finished telling you about the dinner part of her date. 

According to her, the food wasn't bad, but the place was crowded and the music playing was so annoying that it became a bit too much for her. It was already hard to pay attention to anything Chad was saying as the others' conversation was caught in the middle, stealing her attention, all she could was nod and smile, like one of the Penguins from Madagascar. 

You laughed at her indignation and the small wrinkle in between her eyebrows, opening the door and giving her space to walk in. Kicking your shoes away, the both of you automatically walked to the door at the end of the small hallway of your apartment, the episode 7 of Stranger Things’ last season still on pause when you sat on the bed being followed by Tara; Jamie Campbell’s beautiful blue eyes on the screen.

“... and after we got to the motel, things were heating up and his hands were on my ass and he kept pushing me against him and…” Tara stopped talking after noticing the disgusted expression on your face as you made yourself comfortable on the bed. The girl sat right by your side. “I will not spare any details.”

“I’m seriously considering automatically deleting every explicit part of it.” You retorted, shifting uncomfortably against the headboard.

Despite the years of friendship you and Tara had, from Junior High all the way to college — where you both were right now, nothing touchy ever happened between the two of you, not even a single, drunk kiss at parties. You two were close, of course, but not this close, and hearing the vulgar words easily slipping out of her mouth was creating a weird feeling inside your chest.

“I don’t care.” The girl rolled her eyes, moving closer to you. “Continuing, Chad is gentle, nice, and it feels good to be with him, but ugh… I couldn’t even feel anything when I was sitting on his lap.” You let out a small laugh, scratching your eyebrow. That wasn’t the first time Tara rambled about a bad date, but this was Chad, a common friend, and someone that the young Carpenter had a genuine interest in. At this point, that interest had disappeared into thin air. “And when he removed his pants, he had this military patch underwear and black socks on and it was a huge turn off.”

“Black socks really do sucks…”

“I know!” The exasperated way she agreed with you made you laugh, her hand resting near your knee. “Can you believe he didn’t want to take them off? He said he has cold feet.” Her face fell against your thigh, a tired sighing leaving her mouth, hot breath hitting your bate skin. “I should’ve ran when he said that.” Tara mumbled.

Your hand naturally rested on her head in a soft petting, “You really should have.”

The brunette moved a little, laying on her side with her cheek still resting on your leg to feel the soothing moves of your fingers on her hair. The new position gave her a small vision of what's beneath the thick fabric of your shorts, the hem of black boxers peeking through. She looked away, crimson color on her cheeks as she continued the events of the night.

“But, it’s Chad, so I decided to ignore that ridiculous sock and continue.” You nodded your head. “He removed that equally annoying underwear and I swear to God! It was smaller than my hand, and my hands aren’t that big! Look.” To prove her point, she held your other hand, measuring it with her own. She intertwined your fingers together after you agreed with her, resting them both on her chest. “But I was like… okay, it’s not big but maybe he can be good with his tongue.”

“Oh, God.” You choke, closing your eyes. “I will never be able to look at him again.”

“Imagine how I feel!” Tara whined. “But then I thought to myself, he’s a terrible kisser; if he doesn’t know how to use his tongue on my mouth, imagine how bad it’ll be when he use it on my pu—”

“Okay! Let’s not use those explicit words, please.” You interrupted her, shifting again. “But damn, is that guy good at anything?”

“He has a nice body… from the waist up.” This time neither of you could hold back the laugh, the delightful sound of her laughing mixed with yours filled the room for a couple minutes, your hand still playing with the soft strands that spread across your leg. “Chad is a nice guy, but… that’s not enough for me, you know? I crave touching, feeling something. And he was so small I would barely feel anything.” Tara cried out, covering her face with her free hand as the other still held yours against her chest.

“I’m not a sexual freak or anything but I agree, at least the kiss has to be good. So that’s when you messaged me?”

“I wish.” It was your turn to sigh loudly. “We kept going and when I asked him to wear protection, you won’t believe it…”

“He didn’t have any?”

“Oh, he did.” She bit her lower lip, hand still covering her eyes as the images played like a broken record behind her closed lids. “After that awkward moment where he put it on, he got soft.”

“Maybe it was too tight or something, that can be an annoying bother.” You tried defending your friend, but the girl denied with her head, pursing her lips together, deciding if she should say it or not, but after all the details she already had shared, this one wouldn’t matter either.

“It was loose. It was the smallest size and it still was big for him.”

“Jesus Christ. I am deleting every photo I have with him. I can’t bear looking him in the eyes after knowing all of that.” Once again, your laugh filled the bedroom, making Tara look at you with narrowed eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Is it me?” You tilted your head to the side in confusion. “Am I the problem?”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe I’m a terrible kisser and that’s why it didn’t fit.” She explained, looking at you.”Do you think I’m hot?”

“Where did that come from?” 

“The deepest part of my curious brain.” Tara sat back up, resting her hand and yours on her thigh. “Now answer me, am I hot?”

“You are hot, Tara.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure the problem wasn’t you. Maybe he was just nervous to be with you, I don’t know.”

“That does make me the problem.” Her eyes never left yours, looking for a small sign of a lie that was never found; after all, you did find Tara hot. “Why did you never kiss me?” 

You let out a deep sigh. “Because we’re friends.”

“You kiss your friends. Amber, Mindy, and I’m sure you tried to kiss my sister once too.”

“Please, don’t bring that to the table.” The pinkish tone that colored your cheeks made the other smile. “And it’s different, they’re just friends, and you’re my best friend.”

Tara moved on the bed, sitting on her calves, still looking at you, and still holding your hand. 

“Kiss me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Kiss me.”

You let out an awkward, breathy laugh, trying to pull your hand from hers and moving away just a bit, but the brunette was determined, you could see it in the dark brown eyes.

“Stop joking around, Carpenter.” You said one more time, her slender fingers tracing random patterns on your thigh with her free hand, feeling the goosebumps all over your skin, big bambi eyes staring at you. “Tara…”

“Please…” She cried out, the tip of her fingers trespassing the hem of your shorts, only a few centimeters away from your clothed cock. You could already feel it twitching inside your boxers just from those small touches. “I just wanna prove to myself that I can do it and that there’s nothing wrong with me. You, as my best friends, should help me with that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, I truthfully believe you can get someone hard.”

“Then why wasn’t he hard?”

“Maybe it was just a bad day or he was nervous, I don’t know.” You repeat what you said earlier, hoping that it was enough for the small girl. It clearly wasn't though.

“But we were having fun! He was sweet, polite, respectful, and paid for dinner and the motel, which was not cheap. It makes no sense!” She whined like a spoiled kid. Tara sat on your thighs, holding your face in her hands. “Lemme touch you. Please.”

“Can’t we just watch Stranger Things and forget about this terrible date?” You asked in hopes she would let that stupid idea go; she obviously didn’t. 

“We can, after we kiss.” Tara fixed herself on top of you, moving up. Your hands instantly grabbed her waist, before she could sit on your hips. “You know I won’t stop.”

“You’re like the donkey from Shrek.” You writhe under her.

“Please…”

“Dear Lord.” Your head fell back, hitting the soft headboard. “Why does it have to be me? And now?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” The girl shrugged. “Plus, you never let me see it.”

“I swear you have the strangest obsession with my dick.”

“I’m just curious about it.” Feeling the loosen on your grip, Tara moved slightly up, sitting right on top of it. “And I can definitely feel it.” The brunette pushed herself down, biting her lower lip. 

“Please, stop moving.” You whined, trying to hold her still, but she was determined, you could see it in her eyes. It wasn’t going to take long before your underwear became a bother. “Tara, I’m warning you.” 

“You sound so hot, you should use that tone with me more often.” Her hands grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, wrinkling it, pulling you closer until her mouth was yours. You didn’t stop her or kissed her back, but your grip on her waist grew stronger. She smiled against your lips, one of her hands sliding down your body, nails scratching your belly under your hoodie, threatening to trespass the waist of your shorts. “Can I touch you?” 

You gulped hard, staring at the brown eyes that looked soft, unlike her hands. “Are you sure you want to do this? There's no point of return.” Tara nodded fast, not giving a second thought to it, playing with the waist of your shorts. “You can touch me.”

When you gave Tara permission to touch you, you thought the girl was going to wrap her hands around your soft shaft, but all she did was kiss you, slowly and enticing, and this time you kissed her back. Your hands on her waist helped her move against your lap, grinding on you at a torturous pace. 

You wanted to turn around, change your positions so you could control whatever it was about to happen, but you allowed her to be in charge; this was all about Tara proving to herself she’s not the problem, right? So you held back the urge.

Tara’s hands moved up again, wrapping around your neck as she got closer, pushing herself down on you, moaning against your parted lips when she felt your dick pressing on her even though you weren’t hard. 

Her kiss trailed down your neck, gently nibbling on the skin there. You threw your head back, moving your hands down her ass, under the skirt of her dress to push her harder against you, increasing her hips’ speed.

“Fuck…” You let out a sharp breath, completely affected by the delicate touches coming from your best-friend, and that only made her more eager to pleasure you. 

“Do you like this?” Tara whispered in your ear, softly biting on your lobule, tracing the cartilage with her teeth. All you could do was nod. She could feel you slowly getting hard against her ass.

Licking your lips, you thrust your hip up in a strong move, making the both of you moan lowly. You could come just with that friction if she continued moaning with her mouth so close to your ear, only for you to hear it.

Tara’s hands trailed down your body once again, but this time she pushed down the elastic of the waistband of your gray shorts, in a silent request for you to remove it. She lifted herself just enough for it to slide down your legs, pooling just before your knees, the black boxer still hugging your thighs tightly. 

She didn’t want to look down, too shy to do so, but when she sat back against your bulge, it was impossible to not look at it. She pursed her lips together, the moan choked in the back of her throat as she felt you pressing hard against her. A wet spot taking form on the dark, thin cloth the more she rolled her hips on you.

It was an agonizing pain to let Tara in control of the situation. You could feel the warmth and wetness dripping for her cunt, you would easily slide in her, if she allowed you to. But you didn’t know how far she wanted to go with you, after all, this was just a test to see if she could get you hard, and she definitely could as she felt you twitching against her in desperate need to release. 

This could've stopped here and now, you were hard after all, but in a bold move, her hand slipped into your underwear, her hand holding your dick in a hard squeeze that almost made you scream against her mouth. Pulling your length out, Tara wrapped her hand around your shaft, moving it up and down in a provocative way, smiling against your parted lips. Her eyes were dark, staring at you with luxury dripping from the brownish just like she was dripping on your thighs. You could feel the hot, thick liquid oozing on your skin as she rubbed herself on you.

“Fuck, Tara.” You breathed out again, broken, lewdly. 

The brunette dipped her hand in her own underwear, eyes threatening to close as she rounded her swollen clit with two fingers, but she kept them open with a wicked expression on her face. Tara pulled her dress up, giving you the privileged view of her ruined underwear, the white fabric completely transparent. You couldn’t help yourself as your finger traced the wet stain, Tara’s mouth hanging open at the agonizing slow touch.

“Stop.” She asked in a trembled voice, shakingly holding your hand with flushed cheeks. “I don’t wanna cum like this.”

“And how do you wanna cum?” 

Letting go of your hand, she watched with focused eyes as you took two of your fingers in your mouth, sucking at the slick that coated them with a satisfied hum. Tara seriously considered saying she wanted to ride your face and fall apart on your lips, but she just, messily, removed her underwear. A thin line of arousal followed the cloth as she tossed it somewhere in your bedroom, your mouth watering at that.

Tara pulled your boxer slightly down just enough for your member to be released, proudly hitting your lower belly, before placing herself on top of your cock, the blood flowing in your veins reverberating against her clit, making both of you choke on your breath. She fitted your length in between her slick folds, almost crying at the warm feeling. 

She started grinding on you, shaking at every small move. 

“This feels so fucking good.” 

Throwing her head back, Tara supported her weight on her arms, gaining a fast pace. Your hands held the skirt of her dress up, giving you the perfect view of her shining cunt, smearing herself all over your cock. You could feel that tight knot on your stomach at that.

Moving one of your hands up and taking the dress with it, you crossed a barrier when you exposed her perfect tits, holding the stiff nipple with your thumb and index finger in a hurtful squeeze, earning yourself a crying moan that only made you throb against her center, while the other hand bruised the skin of her ass. You could see the red marks of your fingers all over her waist. 

Pulling her torso towards you, your lips wrapped around her other nipple, trembling your tongue on the hardened nub, making Tara’s hands pull on your hair, keeping you close to her chest. Her hips started to lose speed, squirming in your arms as she neared her release; you weren’t going to last much, not when she started whispering your name over and over, shakingly violently in your arms. You came right after her, shooting thick ropes of cum directly into your hoodie. 

Your arms were fast to hold her against you, keeping her body close as you came down from your high together. Tara's head fell on your shoulder, her hot breath tickling the skin of your neck, you could feel her smile. 

“You okay?” Being the first one to break the silence, you asked in a soft voice, running your hands up and down her back, feeling her heart beating like crazy; yours weren't different, smashing itself against your ribcage.

“I'm great.” She mumbled out, weak and out of breath. “Are you okay?” 

Feeling the nod of your head, she pulled away from her hiding spot. When you met her eyes, a pinkish color was filling the skin around her cheekbones, coloring the freckles that spread across her face, and unlike you were wondering inside your head, things didn't look awkward after that; Tara still had that familiar, warm look in her eyes when she leaned in to place a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips. 

“Are you proud of yourself?” 

“For making you cum without barely touching you?” Tara laughed in a proud voice, avoiding looking down as she felt your length still comfortably placed in between her slick folds.

Your hands were firm on her waist when you lifted her hips, guiding the tip of your cock against her sensitive bundle of nerves before slowly sliding in her cunt at the same time she fell back on your thighs, trying to catch her breath at the sudden invasion. A small smile on her face at the feeling of being full, her velvety walls clenching hard around your shaft, still recovering from her orgasm. 

“For the fact that I'm still pretty hard.” Pressing kisses over her jawline, you thrusted up, a surprised moan escaping her throat. “Can you feel it? How hard I am? How good I'm filling you?” 

“Yes…” She choked out, wrinkling your hoodie in her fingers, trying to find support on your shoulders when your hands forced her up, your member coated in a thin layer of her arousal before sliding her back down. “I'm very proud of myself.” The breathy confession made you smile against her neck, softly biting on her jugular before your movements gained a steady rhythm, mixing with the wet sounds and the melody tone of her voice calling out your name for every neighbor to hear.

[brokenmenswhore]

not sure if you take fic requests BUT:

aegon getting woken up with head 🙏

i think this man would only accept head as his alarm 😭

this man would wake up, see you’re still asleep, and then lay there for HOURS with his eyes closed waiting for you to wake up so you can see his eyes closed and give him head to wake him

morning ritual | aegon ii targaryen

pairing: aegon targaryen x reader

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), oral (male receiving)

────── ☾ ──────

There was only one way Aegon accepted waking up.

The first time you tried it, you were nervous about overstepping. Your eyes fluttered open, a small stream of sunlight illuminating the bed, and better yet, Aegon. He looked ethereal when he was asleep, hair tousled, the top of his chest visible over the sheets.

You rolled over onto your stomach, your eyes tracing every contortion of his features: his hair, his eyes, his lips, his throat, his chest- the sheet was blocking everything else. So as not to wake him, you slowly moved the sheets lower and lower, admiring the flesh of his stomach before finally exposing him to the morning light.

Aegon never slept with any clothes on. After ruthlessly pounding into you every night, he would usually roll over and pass out, never caring about re-covering himself. He was comfortable with you, and he saw no point in covering up.

Lucky for you, it made the idea that popped into your head much easier to make a reality.

You slowly shifted down the bed, careful not to prematurely wake him, curling your body up onto your knees as you moved between his legs, leveling your head with his cock.

You took the muscle in one hand, holding it firm against your tongue as you licked a strip from the base of his cock to the tip, finally sinking your mouth onto as much as you could handle. He was big, but you were getting better and better at deepthroating him.

You began to move your head up and down, tasting every inch of him as you moved your hair to one side of your head, allowing you to continue unobstructed.

Aegon stirred lightly, the feeling slowly hitting him as he tossed and turned ever so slightly. You looked up at him, your need to make him feel good growing stronger and stronger as you watched him in his sleep, reacting genuinely to the feeling of your mouth around him.

You moved your hand up to cup his balls, squeezing gently to help coax him out of sleep.

Aegon whimpered, a feeling of arousal creeping between your legs at the sound. His breathing began to quicken a bit, his mouth falling open to allow for his sighs and whines.

You continued to bob your head, running your tongue over his tip to add to his pleasure as he finally blinked his eyes open, slowly looking down and meeting your gaze, finally aware of exactly what was happening. Once he saw you, he threw his head back, relaxing against the sheets as his hands found their way to the back of your head.

He didn’t have the energy to push your head down or to fuck up into your mouth, having just woken up, so he simply kept his hands on your hair to make it known he didn’t want you to stop as he let you continue to suck him on your own.

In his awakeness, his whining grew louder, not quite a moan but light little whimpers of your name or a string of curses anytime you ran your tongue over the slit at his tip or squeezed his balls particularly tightly.

Despite his closed eyes, you kept your gaze focused on him, watching him come undone from what you were doing to him. You loved to see your effect on him; he had been with countless women before, but he was never truly in love with one. Sex with you was different; you had more control over him, you truly cared enough to learn exactly what he liked and how he liked it. You knew how to make him come undone. He adored you more than anyone in his life, and he loved the feeling of your lips wrapped around him, drawing him closer and closer to his high the way no one else truly could.

Usually he would have to hold a woman’s head down and fuck their mouth, using them as a method to get himself off, but with you, he didn’t have to do a thing. He still sometimes would, of course, but simply knowing you were between his legs, eyes looking up at him, consumed in him, was enough.

His breathing quickened, his high approaching closer and closer. You picked up the pace, a large sigh leaving Aegon’s lips as he started to slowly lift his hips, using all his energy to help you make him come.

His clock twitched as his orgasm approached, a whimper of your name leaving his lips as his seed shot to the back of your throat, the feeling almost making you gag. The salty liquid spilled out, allowing you to suck his cock clean of it all, swallowing the load and sticking your tongue out to him to show you had taken it all, something he always asked you to do.

Aegon turned his head to look down at you, wiping the sweat-slicked hair from your forehead and tucking it behind your ear as he saw your tongue, cleaned of any orgasm remnants.

“Good job, angel,” he breathed, “what did I do to deserve such a wonderful wake-up call?”

Ever since then, Aegon has refused to get out of bed without spilling his seed down your throat.

You woke up first, like you had (at least appeared to) most mornings, to find him asleep, naked, and waiting. He often tried to fall asleep on his back with his legs open, a sure sign of eagerness for his usual good morning.

You rolled over, taking the familiar place between his thighs, your mouth kissing his tip before settling down on his length. Aegon immediately groaned, almost as if the second your lips touched him, his body ignited and he woke himself up enthusiastically.

“Shit,” he sighed, forcing his eyes open to watch you this time, your gaze meeting his and only making him crazy.

“I-I think I’ve started dreaming ab-bout this,” Aegon breathed, “almost makes me w-anna go to s-sleep.”

You lifted off of him for a moment, stroking him gently with your hand. “Anything for you, my king. I’m glad you like our morning ritual.”

“Like it?” he choked out, “I love it.”

You smiled in response, lowering your mouth down again, causing him to throw his head backwards and arch his back slightly, forcing his cock deeper into your mouth. The feeling of his tip hitting the back of your throat made him feral, and he began to fuck your mouth.

Aegon was usually not very rough during your mornings; he did not have energy in the morning and was happy to feel the slow, sensual intimacy of your gesture. However, he went to sleep last night only so that he could awaken to your mouth on him, and his body was ready the second his head hit the pillow. The mornings were becoming one of the best parts of his days.

Aegon fisted his hands through your hair, holding you in place as he continued to lift his hips, focusing on ensuring that his cock hit your throat with every single thrust.

You started to gag, an involuntary noise leaving your mouth with each hit, only egging him on more and more. He loved to hear you; it only added to his arousal when he knew the noises you made were all for him, a pure reaction from your body to his.

His roughness was unusual for the mornings, and it drove you crazy. You couldn’t help yourself, you moved a hand between your legs and began to touch yourself, the feeling of Aegon fucking your throat combined with his pretty moans was too much for you to simply sit there and do nothing.

Aegon noticed your actions, a “fuck,” “you’re so fucking perfect, shit,” and “so fucking hot,” leaving his lips as he viciously thrusted up into your mouth, your eyes fighting to stay open and trained on him.

“I’m gonna- fuck,” he moaned, his back arching again as he came. You continued sucking, ensuring you pulled every last drop before swallowing and presenting him with your tongue.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered.

“Good morning to you, too,” you smiled.

Aegon gestured for you to hug him, your body pressed against his as your cheek rested on his chest. He kissed your temple, looking toward the window to see how much sunlight was out. “Can we just stay in bed forever?”

[monamipencil]

— jealousy, jealousy | k.mg

“want me to fuck you loudly so that she could hear it?” 

synopsis; a trip to the convenience store with your boyfriend takes an unexpected turn.

pairings; mingyu x fem! reader | genre; slight angst, smut, established relationship | w.c; 800+ | warnings; mentions of food, marking kink, possessiveness, exhibitionism, fingering, overuse of 'baby', slight dry humping, orgasm denial (f. receiving), a mention of punishment. | a/n; yea.. my old blog was deleted and im reposting.. dont mind me.

you’re jealous. quite jealous. 

The taste of iron greets your tongue when you lick your lips. The bruise he had given you. You lift your hand involuntarily to touch the blooms of hickeys that sit on your neck, discreetly covered by your boyfriend’s hoodie. He marked you up in all ways. For everyone to see. to know. That you’re his. But him? 

Your eyes reluctantly dart towards mingyu and the part-timer, who is clearly hitting on him. You can’t help but roll your eyes and scoff. The annoying knot in your stomach tightens when you hear him laugh at whatever stupid joke she just made. You resort to picking on your nails, trying to drown out everything. 

But you know you have to address this someday. And it might be today. Address the fact that your boyfriend will never be just yours. Your heart uncomfortably twists at that. It was indeed true. 

Mingyu is an eye candy. The heartstopper. No matter where you go, the limelight will always be on him. Good looks, personality, intelligence. He’s got the whole pack. It’s as if God took his sweet time sculpting his heart, mind, and body.  

“Hey, baby,” you flinch at the sound of his voice and sigh, placing a hand over your heart. mingyu eyes you in confusion, and with a small smile on his lips, he apologizes for scaring you. Sending a half-hearted nod his way, you bring the food closer to your side. 

It was your idea. To go to the nearby convenience store to get food after an intense love-making session that left you tired and hungry. You didn’t accept his offer to cook, knowing that he was tired too. But frankly, you lost your appetite. You toy with your food, drawing shapes in the sauce. 

With a loud sigh, you stand, muttering to him that you want to buy something. He nods and tries his best to reply with his ramen-filled mouth. You groan as soon as you’re out of his sight. A part of you knows it’s not his fault. And the other part reasons that he should know how it would feel since he, himself is the possessive type. 

You take something random from the aisle after a moment of consideration and turn to return to the table when a hand roughly pulls your hips back. You gasp, hearing mingyu’s hushed voice, “want me to fuck you loudly so that she could hear it?” 

You bite your lip, swallowing the moan that the lewd thought elicited in you. His fingers dig into the exposed skin of your thigh, and he grinds his clothed crotch against your hip. You let out small gasps and bated breaths as he continues to grind himself harder. Your (his) hoodie is unzipped halfway to expose your neck, which he marks yet again. 

“I’m yours, baby. don’t you know that? hmm? I can prove it.” he whispers, his hands slipping into your panties. His other hand keeps your mouth open, and a moan escapes your lips. The cool wind hitting your skin makes you shiver, and him toying with your clit adds to it. 

“mingyu,” you mewl out his name, your hips grind onto his fingers, chasing friction. 

“God, you’re so wet. And we just fucked a hour ago.” 

He pushes two fingers into your soaking cunt, pushing them in and out at a comfortable pace. mingyu stops his ministrations and curls his fingers against that spot. It forces you to gasp and tug at his hair. He removes his hand from your mouth, and the saliva-coated fingers find your nipple under your shirt. 

Your body hasn’t yet recovered from the previous carnal venture. Every touch has you seeing stars, and you can feel the orgasm ripping through already. But it stops when he removes his hands from your needy core. “Not here. Can’t have my baby walking with wet shorts back home,” he laughs at your needy figure and kisses your strained neck muscles. 

Mingyu holds you against him till you come down from your high. His hands massage your body, and he softly whispers that he’s only yours. It brings a smile to your face, and all ugly feelings are thrown out the window. 

“I love you, baby,” he whispers against your cheeks with a love-sick look in his eyes. You chuckle and whisper the same back to him. Reaching to hold his face, you lean in, but you’re cut off by the part-timer. 

Annoyance runs through your veins, but you’re satisfied to find her shocked state at your intimate position with mingyu. You press a kiss to his lips, eyes still on her. A cocky smile plays on your lips, and your heart feels light when you pull back. Mingyu shakes his head when you shoot him a sickeningly-sweet smile and laughs, playing into your game. 

You pack the food, not wanting to waste the money, and leave the store. But not before you flaunt the love bites gifted by your boyfriend. All exhaustion seems to have left you as you happily skip in the street. He skips along with you, blushing and laughing at the scandalising act you both pulled. You let him do so while he can. And your boyfriend links hands with you, oblivious to the punishment awaiting him. 

a reblog?

tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia

[hxltic]

i absolutely need suna x reader having secret sex while the miya twins are a room across🫣

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

You had no real attraction to Suna, but it was just one of those nights where your brothers came home after a game, bringing his friends along with him to celebrate, and to avoid sitting in their sweat, they had to shower. Thank god you took yours before the boys made it. Being the last to shower when the floor is wet and it’s steamy already is literally the worst shit ever.

The problem was, Suna never really came over; therefore, he had no real way to know which room was your brothers’.

He had specific instructions to shower and take some clothes from his room. Looking back on it, he should’ve asked which door it is, but strutting back with nothing but a towel on his waist is not an option. So, he resorts to opening every door until he finds what he would think is the room of his teammate. Or rather…either of them?

Instead, the knob twists as you’re fully bent over in your walk-in closet, digging through a basket of clean clothes for a t-shirt. Of course it had to be the second you wanted to change when he walked in, and not when you were comfortably reading in bed with a little light on earlier. There’s no bra on your chest now, just a pair of navy blue lace panties.

Hey! On the bright side: they could’ve been cotton with “kiss my ass” stamped on the back.

Your arms draw up in an effort to hide your chest when you hear the twist of the knob and the door come flying open. Key word is effort, because now your breasts are pressed up against each other, which Suna believes is ten times worse for you than the position he found you in. At least when you were bent over, he had to imagine whatever he couldn’t see.

“Holy- shit!” you exclaim, eyeing the man at your door that’s actively dripping water on your carpet. His hair is fallen and sticking to his face messily, just enough for you to spot his slim eyes. He doesn’t say anything at first.

It’s mainly just him blinking blankly at you while you panic, searching the room for literally anything to provide some decency, but once you render the clear lack of any emotion (like embarrassment) you currently possessed in his body, it calms your nerves a bit.

He’s seen a woman before. It doesn’t make him any less prone to being attracted to puffy lips and nipples only covered by an arm, but it somehow soothes you to know he won’t make a big deal out of it and maybe not even mention it to your siblings.

Eventually, you throw on the nearest shirt over your head and pull your hair through, dirty or clean, still with no pants to match.

You sigh deeply, “What is it Suna?” It comes out in an irritated grunt.

“You know my name.” His eyebrows raise with surprise, but not as high as the average person’s would.

“Yeah, I do. Is there a reason you’re still here?”

He presses on: “How do you know it? Do they talk about me a lot?”

Your head drops in your palm to shake back and forth. “I can’t do this right now,” he overhears your mumble.

“My bad, I was looking for Tsumu’s room but got jumpscared instead.”

Despite saying this, he still stands in the doorway—not with it cracked, but with it wide fucking open—and it’s then when creaks from the stairs clears the air between you two. He doesn’t move, but you quickly shove him over to peek around the corner, then drag him into your bedroom before whoever it is gets the wrong idea by the view from the hallway.

While you’re turned after throwing him mindlessly into your room, he readjusts the falling towel around his waist. What he said finally hits you a few moments too late.

“Jumpscared?! You? I’m in the comfort of my own room when you barge in with nothing on!” Your hands gesture up and down as you scold him. “And don’t talk about my body like that!” Only he doesn’t really look at your eyes. When you’re done, he finds your attention.

“It was really an accident, but I’ll stay until whoever goes back downstairs,” he shrugs. “And why does it smell like sex in here?”

Your cheeks redden. There was a reason you were looking for a change of clothes. “It doesn’t.”

“Yeah, it does.” He flops back onto the bed carelessly, dipping your comforter.

“Stop! You’re getting my sheets wet.” His body has only slightly dried, but with the full head of hair he has, it hasn’t dried at all. “Suna, get up.”

“They probably already are.”

He closes his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. His stature was not what you thought it’d be. He was tall and packed with muscle in his legs. You could tell that much by the pictures if you didn’t figure it out by the fact that when he’s sitting you’re still face to face; but on top of that, his abdomen was carved and his arms carried some weight too.

Nothing compared to the sheer size of his legs, but still up there. They had to be the size of your head. By photos he’s an average high school athlete, so it almost appears fake when he takes the uniform off.

Unfortunately, as you were looking, his eyes had opened and he’d been watching you inspect him. Suna will always preach there are benefits to being as quiet as he is, like how he can pinpoint that your fingers come to pinch the edge of your shirt.

You clear your throat in hopes it will gather your thoughts too, then rectify his past statement. “They aren’t.”

“Right… just like how all the red tabs in this book are for nothing?” He reaches beside him to take it in his hands, then he flips through the pages quickly until he comes across one. “‘I run my fingers down her trembling thighs that yearn for my touch. You’ll take it like a—’”

Before he can finish what you remember is very unfortunately highlighted, you crawl over him to rip it out his hands and throw it. You chuck the literature nowhere in particular with shame that can’t get any higher as he laughs, then you quickly retreat with a knee up on the edge of the bed. His laughter is a sweet sound. It makes sense why he’s friends with your brothers.

You don’t even notice you’re half-straddling him while you point your finger in his face. “What I read is none of your business.”

He spoke clearly and assertively when he read, and the last thing you need him figuring out was how bad your body desired he’d read the words to you again; he was already too observant.

“Of course. Forgive me for saying such vulgar things around my friend’s sister. She would never do such a thing.” Finally, he slowly sits up, which naturally makes you rise with him, so you place your hand on his shoulder to prevent from wobbling. Your thigh is beside his with your foot unstable on the floor. “She’s just so sweet and innocent, and definitely not up here alone reading book porn.”

Your breathing picks up at the proximity and the pressure of a declaration you can’t avoid. You search between both his eyes that do the same to you. He deserves a medal or something, because fuck—the shirt lifts just a little bit every time you fiddle with it and the lace sticks to your skin like glue. “I- uhm,” you stutter, removing your stability from his body and backing away from the bed.

Of course, to add to the fucking humiliation, you stumble backward, but he reaches out to you. His hand firmly wraps around your wrist and the other is hooked behind your back when he jerks you back up to him. He only releases your wrist.

“Is that all you read?”

You shake your head. “I read regular romance and fantasy too.”

He nods, “Ah, I see. So you want the prince of a faraway land to twirl you around in his field of flowers saying how much he loves you, then you want him to make you beg to come?”

Your eyes shoot wide at the comment, only stretching the lazy smirk on his face.

“N-No,” you reply, even though that does sound extremely appealing.

“But you do want someone to ‘run their fingers down your trembling thighs’ though, right?”

To emphasize his point, he lets the knuckles of his hand trickle down the back of your thigh, just barely grazing the skin. The sensation shocks you and almost sends you forward. This can’t be happening. Actually, you pray it isn’t, so your eyelids slam shut.

This prompts his other hand to pinch either side of your jaw gently and drag your face to his. “Or lay you back and tell you to take it like a good girl.” His eyes flicker from your eyes, to your lips, then back up, noting the state of disbelief your countenance holds. He flattens the hand that stops just under your ass.

You almost melt in his hold, and this he knows because of the long breath you took after his words. It’s easy to infer you’re fairly untouched by not only your responses, but how receptive you were. It was you two, only about an inch from each other now, waiting to see who would make the next move and risk something far worse than just a growing attraction. The twins flash in your head as a beat passes and you swallow.

“Yes. But that has nothing to do with you.”

Suna shines a smile with his teeth. “Your thighs are rubbing together.”

You look him up and down. “So?”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

You don’t look him in the eyes, they drop to your pillows. Before you can separate the thighs in question that are only disconnected by his fingertips, he nudges you forward onto him, bringing your hands back to his shoulders. You’re completely straddling while attempting to keep your eyes locked on his when his entire torso is on display. He leans forward to speak just above a whisper in your ear as if this is a normal occurrence.

“I can feel you dripping all over my hand.” The cool of his breath tickles your neck, only worsening as he continues. “Why is that?”

You’re at a loss for words at first, but you suck it up, holding your own. “Nothing to do with you. Maybe I went too hard earlier.”

He wholeheartedly chuckles at this response. “So you admit it?”

“Admit what?”

“That you were up here fucking yourself to your book?” His voice is an echo behind you since he’d decided to rest his chin comfortably on your shoulder.

“Yeah. Yeah—I guess I do. It’s not like you didn’t come in here and figure it out yourself,” your eyes roll.

“Which part were you reading?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

There’s a moment of silence. “She’d just decided to drop her toxic ex-boyfriend and his sister came to console her. The way she did it was kind of fucked up, and I think the slow burn is what made me look past it, but anyway—she brings her to a party, the boy she meets there happens to be the barista at the place she orders from every day, and he has a history with the main character’s ex. He hates him even though he’d gotten over it as years passed, but she really wants to get back at him, so they send an anonymous short video of them, um… together, and he gets really pissed off.”

Suna is quiet as he reviews what you just said. He admires your perception of the book and the passion to read. He goes, “You’re into that?” and then it’s your turn not to say anything, even with the amusement lacing his tone. You grow fidgety, and just when you don’t think any more words will be exchanged, he suddenly demands, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That. What you just did.” You shifted your weight from leg to leg as the silence grew longer. Just to see, you do it again.

“You’re grinding against me when you do that by the way.”

You giggle maliciously, continuing to go back and forth. It’s payback for teasing you the entire time. He comes to hold your hips still to prevent further movements, but in protest, you create an arch in your back to actually roll your hips down instead, ensuring he felt it.

“Okay, really, unless you want to move like that with my nine inches inside of you, I suggest you choose your battles now.”

You finally halt at the words. He was dead serious. He feels scratching along his shoulder blades at your fingers curling up in response, but not removing yourself. He still rests his head beside yours. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re into that too?”

So that’s how he ended up with his back to your headboard, head tipped up, looking at you through his pretty eyelashes as you wrap your hand around his slick length and reposition it to line up. You lower your body down, allowing your walls to open up for him. The stretch hurts only a little just because he’s so big.

You hadn’t kissed him the entire time, so he groans desperately when you wrap your fingers tightly around his neck and lean in. He allows you to no matter how hard you squeeze.

This drives up your confidence with your pretty lace panties pushed to the side, making you raise to your feet.

“Shit,” he grabs ahold of your ankles between half-lidded eyes, and his mouth slightly dropped like he can’t believe what the fuck he’s seeing. “If Atsumu could see you now.”

The mention of your brother at all should turn you off, but it doesn’t. It only fuels you knowing that you’re actively riding his teammate. In fact, you must tighten around him, because he knows immediately.

“What? Does that turn you on? Fuckin’ slut.”

You whimper at the words, pressing your lips forward to his. You kiss him the best you can as he hungrily reciprocates.

The bed moves forcefully, but Suna knows the other guys are probably too busy downstairs to hear it, and whoever is in the other room may only potentially be a problem. So up and down you go, now slamming your ass against him and reddening his slightly tan, freckled skin.

“Poor thing was up here by herself. If dick was what you really wanted, you know you could have always asked.”

“Hhhmmm,” you whine, breathing shallow.

The brunette lets you go until your legs burn and you’re slowing pace. It’s driving him insane watching you chase your orgasm, using him like he was the perfect replacement for your fingers, in your own little world with your face twisted up in ecstasy and muscles straining. You were too stubborn to stop when he offered it to you, but he doesn’t mind. Not everyone has legs like his.

He instructs while inching his hips up the bed, “Fall back to your knees.” You do, and he grabs one wrist in each hand before digging his heels into the blanket and pounding up into you at a pace you don’t think you could ever meet. It’s rough and loud and you can feel his balls coming up to strike you from behind. Quite literally, it takes your breath away.

“Fuck fuck fuck yes,” tendrils of your hair fall over your face when you lay your head down over his head for stability. Aside from not being able to move, this is the best angle for the both of you. Your tits move over his face, which would allow him to suck and bite as he pleases while holding you still, and with the tilt of your body his fat tip reaches your most sensitive part.

You bounce over and over and he wishes he would have pulled your shirt up first. He’s grunting in your ear dangerously.

“Was this in your book too? Is this when he told her to take it like a good girl?”

You try to answer but it’s incomprehensible with the speed of his thrusts.

He commands, “Again.”

“Y-Yes,” you retry, finally getting something out. He’s satisfied with this, so he lets go of your wrists and pushes you upright, only slowing for the moment. This time, he wraps his fingers around your neck, just enough for you to breathe, while rolling his thumb across your revealed clit. The veins of his forearm show themselves and he peers up at you with a glare as if you were the most irritating thing to him.

How hard you were holding him is nothing compared to how hard he is holding you, and just that thought has your eyes threatening to fall closed.

“Then be a good. Fucking. Girl,” he punctuates each word with a harsh upwards cut of his hips, “and take it.”

“Oh God,” you connect your own weak hands around his, your mouth falling open with every moan that floats into the air. He holds your gaze with his threatening eyes, and if you tried to look anywhere but him, he’d pull you right back. “Suna, I’m coming,” you rush it out like there’s no stopping now. And honestly, you’re currently wishing you didn’t say it at all, because you know if he told you not to, your body would try its best to comply.

“No the fuck you’re not.”

Godammit.

Removing his finger from your nub, he moves the hand to meet the other at your throat. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to, which you did want to, just to let him know that this would only make it worse. There’s a movement: you’re coming down on him yourself with the force of the thrust driving you up.

Your mouth creates the words, but they don’t come out. Suna knows anyway. “Please.”

“No.” And it’s as simple as that, because then he says, “Do you hear that?”

Of course you don’t, he just asked to see if you were sane enough to come back to your senses and focus your hearing. His tight hold on you is enough to leave a mark, but not enough to prevent your head from slowly shaking back and forth.

“On the other side of that wall is your brother. Both of them.” Your eyes shoot wide at the same time his thrusts calm down. He still continues, it’s just with a deep grind to prevent the hard slapping of skin, and he brings your forehead to his as he speaks to you. “Come now and both of us are in trouble.”

He has valid reasons to infer that it is specifically the twins, but he’s sure you don’t want to hear those right now. If it was up to him, you would have been throwing your head back and showing that arch he imagines you had before he intruded in on you changing, but holding it above your head like meat to a starving dog was fine too.

“Please let me come Rin, please. I’ll be quiet,” a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose ends your pleading, hoping it softens him up with the use of his first name.

And maybe it worked, because his eyebrows curl upwards with pity when he explains, “We both know you’re too vocal for that, princess. How about we try something else?”

You nod frantically, raising off his length and letting him lay down completely while you wait for directions. He gets situated by moving pillows out of the way. “Come here.”

You realize now the pity he expressed was fake. Swinging your leg over his waist, you begin to line yourself up.

“No. Come here.”

You stare at him dumbfounded.

“Up here, towards me,” he ushers his hands. You scoot closer towards his chest with your hands on his pecs, not sure how much closer the two of you can get.

“My face, baby.”

Instead of getting angry with you, he kept his tone. It was little but it made you feel good. “Oh.”

You come to a hover over his lips, contemplating a lot and nothing at the same time, mainly if this man was really under you telling you to do what you’re doing.

“Sit.”

“Are you sure?” You clarify.

“Yes. Sit before I make you read your porn to me.” This brings your eyebrows in with a crease and you drop with no remorse on his lips. His face is smothered somewhere between your thighs. The only thing visible is his damp hair.

Unfortunately for you, he enjoys the thrill of not being able to breathe.

You’re less than two minutes into absolutely grinding on his tongue, chasing the vibrations of his grunts and groans by tugging on his hair. Your other hand is covering your mouth.

Thankfully, because there’s a quick knock, and Osamu’s voice passes through the door. “Pizza’s here. You okay in there?”

You nod as if he can see you. You then realize he cannot.

Shakily, you call out, “Yes.” The only way to not moan while Suna slides the muscle between your lips to taste all of your slick is by biting your lip. His fingers grip the fat of your thighs.

“Okay.” In the background there’s another voice, presumably your other brother. Finally, they become faint until you hear the stairs, and you allow yourself a little freedom.

“Rin,” you look down fully expecting to meet his eyes, but you can’t see him at all.

“Hmphh?”

“I’m close…can I?” On cue, he pushes in as far as his tongue can go inside your hole. He nods yes, simultaneously flattening it to lick all of you in one stripe before deliberately sucking your clit.

To muffle your sounds, your hand comes to cover your mouth once again and you’re somehow managing to prepare for your eyes squeezing shut at the same time as your muscles tensing. Suna can feel you dripping, literally this time.

this was kinda rushed

©️hxltic

[marvelslittlewhore]

Always There For You

REQUEST | HIRT/COMFORT WITH RAFE CAMERON PLSSS

PAIRING | rafe cameron x maybank!reader

WARNINGS | allusion to child abuse, luke maybank, bruises, blood, angst, hurt/comfort, love confession, kinda enemies to lovers?

A/N | my first ever Rafe fic so bare with me 🙂

            ◃◦---------------●--------------◦▹

Rafe was sitting in the living room, in the middle of rolling a joint when he heard rapid knocking on the front door. At first, he ignored it but the knocking got more aggressive. He groaned, getting up and marching to the front door.

"What?" He snapped the second the door was open. He expected anything but you standing before him, arms wrapped around yourself and clothes drenched from walking through the pouring rain. "Maybank? What are you-" He trailed off when he finally noticed the state you were in.

The bruises that lingered on your face and the bloody nose had Rafe already silently fuming. You and Rafe have an unspoken friendship if you dare to say that. Yes, you shouldn't like him. He's your brother's enemy, but Rafe was never actually rude to you, he does the usual bickering but in the end, you would both smile at each other and just go your ways.

Rafe himself doesn't understand what draws him to you. Maybe it's the way you're always smiling at him or standing up for your friends, even delivering a few punches when needed. Seeing you now, teary-eyed and hurt has him clenching and un-clenching his fists.

You sniffled, rubbing your arm nervously. "I'm sorry, I just...my brother's at a party and I didn't want to worry him. I...I didn't know where else to go..." you looked down at your feet. "Sorry, this was a stupid idea-"

Rafe didn't respond, you were about to turn around and leave but he quickly pulled you inside the house and into a hug, kicking the door shut with his foot.

The second you were in his embrace you broke down, sobs ragging through your shivering body. You wrapped your arms around him, your hands gripping tightly onto his shirt and face pressed into his chest.

"Shh, it's okay," he whispered, his hand resting on the side of your head, with the other he rubbed your back soothingly.

He pulled back to get a better look at your face, brushing a stray of hair out of your face and wiping the tears away.

"Who did this to you?" he asked and you closed your eyes shaking your head. "Hey, Hey, you're safe here. Okay?"

You open your eyes again. You could see in his eyes that he was truly concerned for your well-being.

Taking a shaky breath you muttered. "M-My dad...it was my Dad."

You watched him taking a deep breath before he goes to grab his keys. You quickly took hold of his arm.

"Wait! Please don't go... don't leave me here alone." you whimpered, bottom lip quivering and your grip tight. "Please, Rafe."

He sighed, placing the keys back in their designed bowl. "Come, let's get you fixed up." he grabbed your hand, leading you upstairs to his room. He made you sit on the edge of his bed, before going to the attached bathroom.

While he was gone you could take in his room, the luxurious furniture and pictures that probably cost more than you will ever archive in your life.

A few moments later Rafe came back with a small first-aid kit, a damp rag, and fresh clothes for you. He kneels before you, placing the stuff beside you, and starts to gently rub the dried blood off your face.

You hissed a few times when he graced a sore spot but you couldn't focus on the pain right now, more on how beautiful his eyes were. You developed feelings for Rafe for a while now, but never made a move because you knew JJ wouldn't approve of this at all.

At this moment you couldn't care less about your brother or the pogues. Your only focus is on Rafe and how gently he's with you. "Thank you..." you mumbled after he put the rag aside.

He flashes you a little smile. "No need to thank me. I've barely done anything."

"You could've just slammed the door in my face." You remarked, smiling a little.

"True. I would've to everyone else, but never to you," he confessed, continuing to fix you up.

"And why is that?" you asked in a teasing tone.

Suddenly he stopped what he was doing, his hands falling to rest on your knees, his eyes locking onto yours. "Because I like you. I like you a lot, actually."

"Y-You do?"

"How can I not? You're fucking amazing," he said, his hands now reaching up to cup your face, smirking. "For a Maybank."

You hit his arm playfully. "You're a jerk."

"Probably, but I still fixed your beautiful face." he teased, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you..."

"It's not your fault." you reminded him softly and he pulled back again.

"And neither is it yours, it's him, it's all him, you understand?"

When you nodded he grabbed the clothes next to you, placing them on your lap. "You should go take a warm shower. Don't want you getting a cold now."

You got up and made your way to the bathroom, smiling when you realized he gave you some of his clothes and closed the door behind you.

Rafe was patiently waiting on his bed, planning in his head what to do when he pays good old Luke Maybank a visit tomorrow. There's no way he will get away with this.

He gets pulled out of his thoughts when he hears the bathroom door unlock, smiling at the way his shirt almost reaches your knees. His smile faltered when he saw the bruises that formed all over your legs.

"Feeling better?" he asked, getting up to pull you into another hug.

You nod against him, mumbling softly. "Just tired."

Nothing more had to be said and Rafe swept you off the ground. You yelped in surprise, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. He carried you to the left side of his bed, lowering you onto it with utmost care.

He pulled the covers up before smoothly jumping over you on the free spot, savoring the way you laughed at him and hoping to hear it every day.

You were both lying on your sides, facing each other so close with your nose almost touching his. You reached a hand up to caress his face while he was tracing his finger up and down your arm.

"I-" Before you could speak his lips were on yours in a captivating kiss that had you closing your eyes and your head spiraling.

His hand went to the back of your neck to pull you closer, if that was even impossible. He only pulled back to let you breathe, smirking at your flustered expression.

"You don't know how long I've waited to do this," he said and you chuckled, having waited for an opportunity like this yourself for too long.

"I can imagine." you smiled at him, shuffling closer to snuggle against him.

He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. He's glad he could finally confess his feelings for you, the situation could have been a better one though, but a situation like that would never happen again now that he's got you safely in his arms and you can be sure he'll never let go of you again.

            ◃◦---------------●--------------◦▹

Taglist

For everything:

@lokigirlszendaya @buckymydarlingangel

[yeoobiii]

⋆｡°✩ 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙡 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚

꩜ boyfriend!jake x afab!reader

꩜ established relationship, slightly suggestive

꩜ you ask your boyfriend to come on a shopping spree with you which leaves you not only unsatisfied but also a bit insecure. That is until an idea stuck you to turn the tide around and make this a successful trip nonetheless

or: you go lingerie shopping with your whipped boyfriend Jake

wc: 3.4k

warnings: slight voyeurism (?), nicknames like love, baby and puppy

a/n: technically it's pretty much gender neutral, it's just reader is trying on bras that's why I tagged it afab!reader but otherwise it's gender neutral! I don't think there are any major warnings for this one, it's pretty harmless, just you and your boyfriend Jake who has a hard time resisting you in cute lingerie, enjoy!

You look at yourself in the mirror and sigh, exhausted from changing in and out of your clothes for what felt like the 20th time today.

“Does it fit? How does it look?” You hear a familiar voice from the other side of the curtain call out to you.

You feel frustrated and frankly also a bit bad. All day you’ve been dragging your boyfriend around the city to look for cute new summer clothes and so far all you ended up with was a basic white crop top and a flowery skirt that you already regretted buying.

Your boyfriend keeps assuring you that he doesn’t mind hopping from one store to the next, taking small coffee or ice cream breaks in between. Also he himself seems to have been more successful in the search for some new pieces than yourself, seeing how the bags he insists on carrying around mainly contain things he has gotten for himself.

“I don’t know. It’s not really what I was looking for.” you almost whine, your patience running out, as you draw back the curtains to show your outfit to Jake.

His eyes roam your body up and down for probably the dozenth time today, taking in how the clothes look on you.

“Oh, babe.” He gets up from the makeshift changing room chair he’s been sitting on, stepping closer to you until he gently places his hands on your waist,

“What do you not like about it?” He inquires in an understanding, patient way.

You immediately welcome the comfort your boyfriend offers you, the skinship making your shoulders relax and lean your forehead against his shoulder defeatedly.

“It’s– I don’t know, it feels off. I don’t feel like myself in it.” You mumble into his shirt, “Maybe I’m the problem, like it seems like I’m not in the best headspace to do this today. I’m sorry I’ve been dragging you around the city all day for nothing.” You look back at him apologetically, a small pout on your lips and are greeted with the softest smile, his eyes kind and understanding.

“What are you apologizing for? I had a great day! We had a nice lunch, I got to see you in a bunch of cute clothes, I found some nice things for myself and we got bubble tea as well. Sounds like a successful day to me.”

As he’s reassuring you, he gently squeezes your waist. A small yet significant gesture because it makes you melt even more into his touch, helping you to ground yourself.

“But still…” you pout. You feel like you’ve wasted both of your days, a Saturday at that, beautiful weather outside, you could have done anything else.

Jake knew you were being hard on yourself because you were clearly frustrated and also probably didn’t feel the most confident today because according to him he’d have bought you at least half the stuff you tried on, because quote “you look good in almost everything, love.”

Just as you were about to give up and call it a day an idea struck you seemingly out of nothing. Your exhausted expression turned into a shy smirk and you could tell Jake was a bit confused for a second, waiting for you to share your thoughts with him.

“I think there’s one more thing I’d like to check out. Are you down?” you place your arms around Jake’s neck, the both of you now almost in an embrace as your smile only gets wider at your genius idea.

“Are you going to tell me what you have in mind?” He asks, his eyes glimmering with curiosity even though he knew you well enough after almost one and a half years of dating to have a slight idea of what you were getting at.

“It’s a surprise, but I have a feeling you’ll like it.” is all the information you give him and even though he raises a suspicious eyebrow at you, he agrees easily nonetheless and the both of you start to wrap things up at the current shop.

As you were done changing, Jake and you left the store without buying anything. Even though you were upset about the total failure that today has turned out to be just a few minutes ago, there seems to be no trace left of your past turmoil as you take Jake’s hand into yours and stride down the street, excitement bubbling in your chest.

Neither of you talk as you lead the way down the shopping street, since Jake knew he wouldn’t get more information out of you even if he tried and you were way too focused on your target to make casual conversation.

After a short 5 minute walk you stop in front of a very particular store that sells a very specific kind of clothing: lingerie.

“We’re here.” You grin at Jake, who needs a second to process what he’s looking at until his jaw goes slightly slack and he looks at you with big eyes.

“You want to go lingerie shopping with me?” He asks in slight disbelief.

Now, it’s not like Jake has never seen you in lingerie. The both of you have been dating for a while now and you like to surprise him from time to time with a new set, which you could always tell had an effect on him. The way you could physically see the thoughts leaving his brain as he admires how the lace wraps itself deliciously around your thighs and torso. You yourself enjoyed the sight of leaving your boyfriend dumbstruck, getting a slight ego-boost each time you see how much he wants you, even after being together for quite some time now.

You came up with the idea to take him here on a whim but you’ve been meaning to get a new set for a while now anyway, plus you thought maybe it could get your confidence back on track to try on various different kinds of lingerie with your boyfriend right then and there to see his reaction to each set.

“I mean why not? Might as well pick something out together, right?” You smirk at him playfully, knowing very well what kind of rollercoaster ride you were about to send him on.

“Right.” He confirmed, mind still processing what’s about to happen. He suddenly seems to snap out of it as he offers you his arm. “Shall we go in then?”

You nod at him enthusiastically as you take his arm and he leads you inside the store. You can tell from the moment you step inside that he’s utterly overwhelmed, his eyes roaming the store.

“Have you ever been in a lingerie shop before?” You ask him as you let go of his arm and start browsing through the different sets, bras and panties.

“Nah, this is a first for me.” He stammers as he keeps looking around, seemingly in awe with all the different options and colors.

“Really? None of your previous girlfriends have taken you lingerie shopping before?”

He just shakes his head, mouth slightly agape, still taking everything in. But you can tell he’s slightly intimidated, especially by the way he keeps avoiding direct eye contact with the saleswoman at the register.

You chuckle to yourself. You’re endeared at the sight of your boyfriend and how he seems to be completely out of his expertise, a look of awe on his face.

You know Jake really likes bralettes and so do you, so you scan the shelves for a cute set to try on, excitement bubbling in your chest as your eyes land on a pastel purple set with gorgeous flower lace and underwear that is silk and lace combined. You find one in your size and turn to your boyfriend who still hasn’t moved an inch since you entered the store.

“What about this one?” You call out to him, his head almost snaps from how violently he turns his head into your direction, almost like he just remembered you are actually here to buy something; for you.

His eyes land on the set you’re holding and you could swear his knees were about to give in.

Jake tends to be a really confident and assured guy and you love that about him. You love that he loves himself and is not afraid to show it, but there’s just something about flustered Jake that strikes a chord within you like no other version of your boyfriend and that’s why you’re currently enjoying this experience to the fullest. Something about him is irresistible when he has that pretty blush coloring his cheeks.

“This one?” He points at the purple set, eyes big. “Yeah, it looks- it looks really pretty.”

He comes over to you, taking the set from you and carrying it for you as you keep looking around the store as the gentleman that he is. You can tell he has a hard time meeting your eyes though, his cheeks slightly flushed; and you get it.

Usually, Jake only ever gets to see you in your favorite lingerie when it’s just the two of you, somewhere where you have your privacy, somewhere, where he doesn’t have to hide how much it affects him, seeing you like that, all pretty just for him.

Now, right here in the store, it’s different because you’re in public and he has to behave and keep his hands to himself. And it seems like he’s already mentally wrestling with himself at the prospect of that.

“Pick something out too, show me what you wanna see me in.” You tell him, almost too innocently.

Jake almost can’t believe what he’s hearing, he gets to choose… And suddenly he takes the task very seriously and wastes no time going around the store to look for something he’d think you’d look gorgeous in. It’s almost comical how determined he is all of a sudden, the thought of being able to choose something himself clearly spurring him on.

After the two of you look through the store for almost twenty minutes, sometimes on your own and sometimes you ask each other for the others opinion, you’ve put together a cute little collection consisting of the purple set you’ve set your eyes on first, a dark red bodysuit which Jake has picked out for you, a cute pair of light pink tap shorts with a suitable bra, also Jake’s choice and a pair of pretty tights you could attach to the underwear of your purple set.

Looking at everything you’ve gathered, you were very happy with your picks, also with Jake’s he has done a good job of combining your personal taste in lingerie with what he’d personally like to see you in.

You don’t waste anymore time and make your way over to the dressing rooms, telling Jake to sit down and wait real quick for you to try on the first set. From the corner of your eye you see his leg bouncing up and down due to nerves and anticipation and close the door to the cabin behind you.

You change into the purple set first and the moment you have it on you decide for yourself that coming here was the best decision you guys have made today because finally you felt good in something you tried on. None of the clothes you’ve changed in and out of the whole day have felt this good on your body and seeing the reaction of your boyfriend was just the icing on the cake.

“I’m ready.” You announce before you open the door to be instantly greeted by Jake’s waiting figure.

You tried to grasp Jake’s expression and couldn’t hold back the chuckle at the sight of his jaw going slack, his eyes scanning your body up and down, like he had done so many times today already, but this time was completely different. He seemed to completely soak up the way you look, making a mental image for himself.

Eventually he met your eyes and you swear you could see a slight blush creeping up his face again. He took a hesitant step closer to you, overcome by the urge to touch you but he stopped himself.

“I mean, wow. You look– you look really good, love” and you take his word for it because he can’t take his eyes off of you. The way the lace compliments your body perfectly, sitting tight in all the right places, leaving little to the imagination. You can also tell that he’s a little starstruck by the way he can’t bring himself to say anything else. It seems like you’ve left him speechless.

“Thanks.” You say casually, smiling and doing a little spin for him.

“So is this a yay or a nay?” You ask him as if you couldn’t judge by his expression alone.

“Yay!” He almost says too quickly.

“Definitely a yay.” He says a bit more calmly after he has catched himself.

“Ready for the next one?” You ask as you turn around to go back into the cabin.

“Just give me a few more seconds.” He said almost desperately and you can’t help but be completely endeared by him. The thought sinks in that he’s being like this because of you. It’s you who has turned this confident, usually loud guy into a stuttering mess. You’d lie if you’d say it doesn’t do things to boost your ego through the roof; to be admired like this by someone like your boyfriend, someone who’d clearly have no struggle getting any person he’d want to but he ended up falling for you and he made you feel so loved and appreciated every single day.

To be with Jake was like experiencing your first love all over again. It was exciting, but also calm when it was just the two of you and he brushed his hand through your hair gently while your head rested on his torso, enjoying the sensation of chest rising and sinking underneath you. But it was also the night outs, where he’d take you to places you’ve never been before and show you sides of yourself you didn’t know about yourself yet.

And through it all he held your hand, never once daring to let go. Sometimes you thought he might be worried you’d slip too easily from his grip, little did he know that he had secured you for life if he’d wanted to.

His eyes keep observing every curve of your body, every edge, every bump. You take a step towards him and place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“There’s more to come.” You whisper into his ear before you disappear back into the cabin and even though you can’t see it with your own two eyes, you can practically feel how your boyfriend is deflating on the other side of that door, folding into himself.

Next up you chose the tap shorts and the bra Jake picked out for you and even though it’s not something you’d usually go for you think it looks really cute, you can instantly see why your boyfriend would have picked this.

“I’m coming out” you say as you step out of the cabin for the second time and find your boyfriend in a similar state as before, but this time he starts fanning himself.

“It’s starting to get hot in here, isn’t it?” he jokes, fanning himself with a leaflet you got handed earlier in the day on the street.

Your boyfriend’s pupils are properly blown out right now and you can tell he has a hard time holding himself back. You start to think that he might actually really be into this, them being in public while his thoughts run wild, basically undressing you with his eyes.

“You’re evil, actually. Do you know that?” He says flustered but with his usual humorous undertone.

“Evil, huh?” Once again you step closer to him, brushing the collar of his shirt with your hand as if to wipe off dust, just so your hand could slowly travel down his shoulder, all the way down his arm, riling him up even further.

Jake can’t believe what he’s witnessing and he also can’t believe how much it’s affecting him, he can tell you’re playing with fire and it’d only need one word from you and he’d throw all his restraint out the window.

“So, I guess we’re getting this one as well?” You ask him, batting your eyelashes at him, trying to look innocent.

You don’t even wait for an answer from him as you once again disappear in the cabin, leaving behind a starstruck Jake, rendered speechless yet again.

The last thing for you to try on was the dark red bodysuit and you were actually quite excited for this one and you were even more pleased when it fit you perfectly. The moment you laid eyes on yourself you knew this was gonna be Jake’s last straw.

This time you didn’t warn him, as you stepped out of the cabin, presenting yourself one last time to your boyfriend who at this point looked like a starved animal.

It takes him a few seconds to fully take everything in until a look of defeat overcame him.

“That’s it, I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.” He overdramatized, throwing his hands up in defeat.

“You don’t like it?” You tease, feigning hurt, knowing exactly how to press his buttons.

“Evil.” He points a finger at you, “that’s what you are. God, baby, you look stunning, you know how hard it is to not touch you right now?” He steps closer as he puts his hands on your hips; a featherlight touch.

“I need you to behave just a little bit longer, can you do that for me?”

He buries his head in the crook of your neck and sighs deeply. “I’ll behave, but just know that it’s really hard to resist you when you look this good.”

“Poor puppy is having a hard time?” You tease him, enjoying yourself way too much and he can tell.

Jake only nods, his face still buried in your neck but you just know he’s flushed to the tip of his ears at your words, the grip on your waist getting rougher momentarily.

You process to peel him slowly off of you and are entirely satisfied with the small whine of protest that leaves your boyfriend’s lips at the distance you put between your bodies.

“So, I’d suggest I get changed really quick and we head home, yeah?”

Jake’s spirit lifts immediately at your suggestion and he nods. “And best believe we’re taking all of that with us.” He’s gesturing at the pile of lingerie that has accumulated on the stool of the cabin.

“Alright, alright, I heard you loud and clear. I’ll be out in a minute.” but before you turn around to change for the last time that day, you place a soft short kiss on Jake’s lips. It’s your way of saying thank you, because all day you haven’t quite felt like yourself and your confidence took a great hit at the fact that nothing you tried on seemed to look good on you, insecurities starting to manifest in your mind and therefore your mood sobering throughout your day.

Well, leave it to your flustered boyfriend and a lingerie store that now all of these worries are swept off of your mind and you end the day feeling on top of yourself again.

After the kiss, Jake smiles fondly at you, apparently having received the message you tried to deliver.

However, you made quick work of changing back into your clothes after that because you’d lie if you’d say your little trip to the lingerie store has left you completely unaffected.

Jake takes it upon himself to treat you and pays for everything you tried on, saying it’s “for the experience”.

There were no more pit stops after that, the both of you suddenly feeling the urge to be home as soon as possible, because if there’s one thing you both enjoy more than Jake admiring you in lingerie, it’s him taking it off of you.

hope you enjoyed! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[alcoholfreenayeon]

Shower sex w/ g!p Karina please🙏

Hot mess

CW: G!p Karina x reader, nsfw, smut, shower sex

A/N: well this took longer than I wanted it to😭I just forgot how to write smut suddenly and this was the reason why😭

You stand under the shower, turning it on and stepping back, letting it heat up a bit before you get in. You leave to decide what you’ll wear after in the mean time. You open your wardrobe and look through your clothes, thinking carefully when you feel a pair of hands wrapping themselves around your waist from behind and a head rest on your shoulder, sighing contentedly into your neck. You immediately relax, recognizing the hands instantly, leaning your head towards her head.

“Ah, you’re done? Weren’t you planning on playing with the girls till late?”, you ask curiously to Karina.

“Yes, change of plans”, She says without offering any further.

You stifle a smile and glance at her, “change of plans for you or for everyone”.

Karina narrowed her eyes at you before exhaling exasperatedly, “They were bullying me okay! I quit.”, she states and pouts.

You chuckle, turning to face her, stroking her face softly, “But that always happens when you are late to a game they’ve already been playing.”

“I. Don’t. Care.”, Karina huffs, her hands tightening around your waist.

You giggle, “So now are you going to pout around for a bit before practicing relentlessly for a day and then joining them back next time so you are caught up or ow!”

Karina gently slapped your back as you exposed her habits to her, making a face at you.

You smirk at her teasingly, giving her a quick kiss before remembering about your shower. “Ok, baby, can you pick out something cute for me? I’m taking a shower.”, you ask as you head into the bathroom.

“Oh su….”, Karina pauses for a moment, a mischievous expression creeping up, “yeah sure I can do that!”

However you don’t pay attention to that, undressing and checking the water temperature hesitantly to see if it’s warm enough. You then feel a slap on your ass and yelp, turning around in surprise to find a half dressed Karina smirking at you.

You feel your cheeks burn, it wasn’t uncommon for Karina to join you showering but for some reason it always made you blush. Even though it was nothing new for the two of you. You playfully glare at her, your hand moving to the slapped spot.

“I’m feeling frustrated after the game…a shower will probably help me calm down…”, Karina says nonchalantly, “unless you have a better idea to relieve this frustration.”

You roll your eyes playfully and turn your back to her, glancing at her, beckoning her to join you. And Karina obliges, sighing as she steps into the hot water with you, wrapping her arms around you again, gently biting your neck drawing a moan out from you. She continues to bite and suck, leaving marks while her hands wander, playing with your tits. Groping and squeezing excitedly, Karina bites your shoulder hard causing you to squeal.

“Seriously?”, you sigh, “we haven’t even started showering and you are already”, you glance at her hard cock, “already so excited?”

Karina squeezes your tits before turning you around, kissing you eagerly as she pushes you against the wall. “I can’t help it. You drive me crazy. Now let me use you please.”

You playfully poke her belly, “Fine but don’t-hey!”, you yelp as Karina interrupts you, turning you over again, pushing you against the wall roughly as she lines up her cock.

You moan sharply and squirm a little under her firm grip, biting your lips as you feel her enter you, stretching your walls. She begins to thrust quickly, holding your waist tightly as she repeatedly thrusts hard and deep.

Your breaths begin to get ragged as she pounds you relentlessly, her fingers digging into your skin as Karina lets her primal urges take over.

You start to moan softly as you feel her hit your sensitive spots just right, feeling your legs weaken. If that wasn’t enough, Karina suddenly pushed herself as deep as she could and begin growl to in your ear, “I can’t hold back anymore…I’m going to breed you right here.”

At this point you don’t even care, closing your eyes, and resting your hands against the wall tightly, you brace yourself for the pounding Karina promises to give you.

She doesn’t disappoint and almost immediately you feel her pull her cock back till it’s at your entrance before ramming it all the way in, her tip brushing against your cervix causing you to gasp. She repeats this, each repetition a bit faster and harder, slowly gaining rhythm.

Meanwhile, you feel your legs buckle with each thrust, you can’t believe she’s able to make you feel this way. You can’t even moan properly, letting out a half gasp and half moan every time she thrusts. The way she’s holding onto your hips only turns you on more. You can barely feel the water from the shower anymore, it’s like all of your nerves are choosing to focus on Karina’s cock right now.

You can feel her cock throb as she begins to get closer to her release. And that’s when your first orgasm hits you like a truck, your eyes roll up and you feel like you can’t breathe, your body thrashing under the ever increasing waves of pleasure.

As you slowly come down from your high, you feel Karina dig her nails into your hips tightly as she was close. Still sensitive from your earlier release, her measured thrusts were proving to be too much almost immediately as she felt your body getting limp rapidly, your pussy on fire. It felt like she was touching your very soul each time she rammed her cock in you. Matter of fact, the only reason you weren’t on the floor already was because Karina was holding you up now, breathing raggedly, her face focused.

You feel a second orgasm quickly approaching and at the same time you hear Karina groan out loud, pushing herself into you, going as deep as she can before she cums. You gasp when you feel the first wave of cum shoot out into you and cum when you feel the second wave. Karina spurts out a couple more waves before sighing contentedly. On the other hand, you feel weak, sated and blissful. The feeling of her semen and cock filling you up entirely being so amazing. A couple minutes later, Karina pulls out of you, slowly letting you down til you are sitting on your knees lazily. You sigh softly, feeling her cum begin to slowly seep out of you. You squeal when you feel a splash on water on your face and look up to see Karina grinning.

“What are you daydreaming about”, she teases

“Shut up”, you bark back, blushing and splashing water towards her now. “I’m tired…”

She giggles and offers her hand which you lazily accept as she pulls you up. “Want me to wash you baby?”, she asks with a small smile.

Your heart skips a beat and you give her a quick peck, smiling sweetly. Karina chuckles and kisses your forehead, her hands drifting and begin lathering you up, starting with your hands before slowly moving to the rest of your body. Halfway through, you smile mischievously as you feel her cock harden again and poke you.

“Ready for round 2 already love?”, you ask looking back at her.

She pokes your side causing you to squirm and gasp, “I’m always ready for round 2 babygirl, in fact…I want round 3 and 4 tonight as well. I feel really needy about you right now….”

Soon enough the two of you are making out again, forgetting about completing the shower yet again, lost in your passionate tryst…

[bigfatbimbo]

Silly request but imagine helping Bill "groom" his triangle self. Gently wipe him with a cloth. Carefully dip it in the little space between the bricks, can't leave that zone unclean! Alternatively, a classic soapy bubble bath. Silly straws included, what the hell, he's probably drinking the bath water and listing the chemical ingredients back at you while you gently rub him clean. Fun times

The Bug Collector

1.1k words,, Bill Cipher x reader

a/n — Procrastination killed my soul during this, I think it turned out okay, though! Sorry for typos, your girl is tired.

warnings — SFW, post!weirdmaggedon, as ‘fluffy’ as you can get with Bill cipher, he is his own warning, kinda toxic relationships, fluff and bill being pathetic

summary — Reader assists a recently fallen Bill Cipher in self care, despite his general all-mighty asshole-ness.

The exoskeleton of a bug was practical, a water-tight barrier most commonly known for muscle attachments, and its use to shelter and protect the insects gushy insides from its harsh environment. 

The exoskeleton of a triangle was for mostly for aesthetics, as the underneath was far more horrifying than anything in the harsh environment around it. Or so the triangle claims.

You dipped a soapy sponge into the bucket in front of you, as bill propped his feet up on the bathtub. 

“You conquer worlds and destroy planets, but yeah, why not draw the line at cleaning yourself.”

“Please, what better way to make use out of my new human pet— partner, than this?” He corrected loudly and purposefully. Then looking to the side, he mumbled, “And besides, kid, you have no idea how hard it is to clean between the bricks. Euck— So many blind spots.”

The first part was a throwaway reminder that he had far more power than you in this dynamic, something you’d picked up on Bill casually doing in his time with you. 

Being roommates with a butt-hurt demon, given the ending of weirdmaggedon, allowed you the privilege of being more cautious than previous humans were with Bill. For example, you’ve taken to keeping track of his repeated habits and patterns. 

On of which, just so happened to be reminding you how small you were compared to him. 

You jabbed the sponge in-between on of the bricks, “Ow!” He narrowed his eye at you, “Watch it, pal. I’m starting to think you’ve never cleaned a triangle before.”

“I’d hate to give that impression.” You softened your hold on him, “Delicate work, I always say.”

And it was delicate work. After his defeat, he’d been roughed up a surprising bit, powers even weakened. 

Weakened.

“Not too delicate,” he shot you glance. Guess he’d heard that thought process. 

Although, most days he’d seemed to be in a thought process of his own. Weird.

You cleared your throat, “How often does this even need to be done?”

He blinked, “Well, let’s see. Once every—“ he waved his hand around “—few hundred years. Very high maintenance, do not recommend it.”

High maintenance, yeah. At this point, Bill had taken to talking about some other topic, you hadn’t been really listening, something about intergalactic food joints.

Every once and a while he’d bring up something that happened with one of his ‘henchmaniacs’ before getting slightly irritated at the lack of presence in his life now, and changing the subject. 

Bill was interesting to study, you couldn’t lie. His eyelashes curled away from each other, like the mangled legs of a recently dead spider. His hands were very present when he talked, like most people of business. His body flicked side to side slightly at certain moments. 

You became more gentle naturally, taking care of every crevice, and for some reason Bill becomes gradually quieter.

“Something wrong?” You asked, not stopping.

Bill blinked, “Eh, been a minute since i’ve had a human servant. Maybe, I was thinking of other things you can help with!”

You sigh, “Yeah, because i’m your servant. As if.” In your mind, your thinking do the fact he was your roommate, in your house, eating your food. 

“Hey, don’t get all butt-hurt. You’re all ants to me, buddy, nothing to be ashamed of!” His eye flicked back and forth between you and the room.

Then you stop scrubbing, “Bill, I might as well be your landlord.” You know he can read your thoughts, so you make a point to justify yourself. Already weakened from his failed apocalypse, anything other than vague respect for you would land him homeless. Most likely, his response to this would be killing you, but there’s only so much he can do afterwards. 

He’d have a place to stay, but with no electricity or heating, and in his damaged physical form he actively does need those things. And trying to get a new human would be a hassle, and unlike you, no guarantee they’d let him stay there without calling the authorities.

“Yeesh,” Bill remarks, “Buzzkill… You are still a bug compared to me, though—“

You drop the sponge in the bucket, “I think you’re done.”

He looks taken aback when you pull away, “What? Come on, over the bug comment? Jeez, buddy—“

“No I mean you’re actually done,” you gesture to his body, now shining and slick with soap suds. “I got everything, there’s nothing else to do.”

You go to turn around before you feel a small hand grabbing for the back of your shirt. 

“Wait, wait!” He breathes, eye farting from side to side, “… You have to dry me off first.”

He looked slightly panicked, like if you stopped taking care of him now, you’d leave and never come back. Your thought process earlier couldn’t have helped. 

The way he scurried and gasped for you was reminiscent of panicked earwig and a rock is lifted up. The comparison should have grossed you out, but it kinda just made you feel a little bad.

If he was paying attention to your thoughts, he didn’t show it. This would have usually given you the impression he’d wanted you to be thinking the way you were, but he seemed a little wrapped up in his own head. 

“Come on, kid. Don’t tell me you’re gonna kick me out because I asked you to dry me off. One last thing and then you don’t even have to talk to me the rest of the night! Sounds like a good deal, right?” 

His slightly desperate looking sales pitch was met with a sigh, you picked up a dry towel and began to pat the soap suds off of him. His body slowly breathed in, making it look like he was sighing, but no noise came out.

You wondered then if he was actually touch-starved, but cut your thoughts there because this time he had nothing better to do then pay attention to what you were thinking. 

“Ouch, i’m not that desperate, pal.” But he was.

His exoskeleton was dry, but you didn’t stop patting him down. His eyelid shut slowly, and the spider-legs on them curled into each other once more. 

The exoskeleton of a bug was practical, but one of a triangle seemed to simply be for aesthetics. 

However, on some rare occasions, it possesses the same desire for love as human bodies. Only, when very desperate, of course. 

[targaryenluvs]

— photograph

pairings: luke castellan x hades!daughter!reader

summary: as much as you loved luke, you were beginning to believe he’d rather keep you a secret than love you in the open.

warnings: angst babyyy, arguments, jealousy, selfishness, insecurity, manipulation, violence, fights, makeups, makeouts, tension

a/n: based on this request - you guys i’m currently reading the books bc i’ve never and i only grew up on the movies lol i will be more accurate soon i hope! i’m not the best an angst bare with me. this can also fit photograph!! hope you liked it anon!!!

your relationship with luke was amazing.

you’d never dated anyone before, but you weren’t sure how you could ever move on from him. he was nothing short of a gentleman as well as your bestfriend. he confided in you, as you did him, you held eachother and loved eachother. the only problem was that it wasn’t open. being two of the most well-known people at the camp, luke expressed his desire to you to have something to himself, you, to himself.

and at first you didn’t mind.

you loved sneaking away with him late at night, longing stares from across the room, and stolen moments whenever available. no one found out, and he wanted to keep it that way.

of course there were moments where the two of you messed up. accidentally wearing his shirt, the longer length drawing some stares but you’d brush them off, no one exactly was going to call out the daughter of hades. where your hair didn’t exactly cover all of the marks he’d left the night before, his hands were in your hair, his clothes were in your sheets.

and the two of you were always able to keep it hidden.

until you didn’t want to anymore.

you wanted to love him in the open, show everyone just how much you loved luke castellan. you’d bring it up to him when you spent time together, the idea of letting everyone know was foreign and unnecessary in his eyes, but it was all you wanted. just to be able to show how happy you are with him and so neither of you will get asked out anymore. but his kisses on your neck and trailing hands seemed to draw you away from the thought.

you kept telling yourself you were fine with it.

but a girl can only hold on so long, you were done with it, with him. it broke your heart, even thinking of not being with him anymore but you’d rather be free and sad then unknown and happy. the two of you were sat together, stargazing in the forest, your own hide out, deep in the woods, a clearing for the two of you.

he seemed so happy, with you. the whole night he chatted away with you, holding your hand, kissing you, hugging you. you loved him so much, he was your other half, your luke. you felt as if you’d implode. your heart clenched at the idea of being away from him. you knew you couldn’t live like this, “luke?” he turned your way, still smiling, “what’s up babe?” his smile dropped at the sight of your teary eyes and trembling lips, “hey, hey what’s wrong?”

you swallowed, “i— i can’t do this anymore, i can’t be a secret. i hate having your nights and being ignored in your mornings, i hate looking at all the girls fawn over you, knowing your mine. i hate not being able to tell you how i feel during the day, not being able to walk up to you and hug or kiss you. i hate it, and i hate myself for hating it. i just want to be with you.” luke’s eyes were glistening, his hand resting on your cheek, “don’t do this, please. you agreed to this, to our relationship. please don’t ask for more, isn’t this enough? am i not enough?”

he held your hand, pressing it to his chest. you could feel his heartbeat, the rhythm you listened to most nights, lulling you to sleep. you could see the gorgeous face you adored, and listened to the heavy breathing of the man you loved. your smile ignited a flicker of hope in his heart, “no, it’s not. i don’t want to be a secret. i want to be able to tell everyone how much you mean to me, i want you to tell everyone what i mean to you. to be able to talk about our future and our life, plan out the biggest of adventures and our wildest dreams. i can’t do that with someone who’d rather love me in the dark of night than the light of day.”

and with that, luke’s heart was beating faster, a tear falling down and his relationship with you in pieces. all he could do was watch you walk away, a part of him with you. he wanted to get up and chase you, tell you how much he truly loved you, but he sat and stared.

the next few weeks were miserable for both of you. sleepless nights, missing the other, no one to stare at anymore, no one to pass love notes to, no one.

luke had the attention of the entire camp, everyone but the person he wanted.

you had the love of everyone but him.

you tried your best to hide it, the pain in your chest, the tears you’d rid your body of at night, the bracelets and necklaces you hid at the bottom of your jewellery box. trying to eradicate any memory of luke castellan from your eye and life.

whereas luke found himself seeking you out. the horrible drawing youd made of him, the beaded bracelet with your nickname for him on it, the chapstick you left behind and your favourite shirt of his. it still smelled like your own perfume. his favourite photograph of the two of you, a polaroid, you kissing his cheek, with both of your matching necklaces on display.

luke seemed fine to everyone else, of course he did. why would he be any different? whereas you were less chatty, energy drained, and happiness gone. no one seemed to ask, too scared of the reply.

three months, without him.

it still hurt, seeing him. but day after day, it tended to get easier to get up. your friends were your saviours, and strength. they could infer the reason behind your sadness, but they didn’t push you. everyday became a routine, get up, get ready, eat, get through the day and relax at night. you thought you were doing better, until you saw him. happy and uncaring.

and all of a sudden you were back where you started. you were so tired of feeling unwanted, always getting frustrated when you cried, you were crying over someone who couldn’t care less.

so when one of the hermes boys approached you with a smile and a drink offering at a secret party in the woods, you were more than willing to take it. he was nice, and funny, and into you. whilst you laughed away with him, occasionally drinking and eating, luke was across the campfire from you, grip tightening on his cup. all the voices around him were muffled, he couldn’t care about their conversations when the girl he loved was right there.

it was one thing for someone to approach you but from his own cabin? it felt as if the guy was trying to piss him off, and he couldn’t stand for that. luke was trying his hardest to hold himself back, but then the guys hand was on your waist and the cup in his hand was crushed within an inch of its life.

suddenly, luke appeared out of nowhere, his eyes burning with jealousy. unable to control his emotions, he confronted the guy. “what the hell do you think you’re doing?” luke sneered as the boy, derek, looked at him confused, “what’re you talking about luke?” luke scoffed, his patience was wearing thin, and the stupid look on derek’s face looked so punchable, so that’s what he did.

the situation escalated quickly, and before you knew it, a full-blown fight broke out between luke and the derek. as chaos erupted around you, you began to realize the depth of luke's feelings. you knew him better than anyone around, you saw the pain in his eyes, hiding behind the rage. luke wasn’t overtly violent in his daily life, let alone starting a fight, all for you.

derek was holding on for sure, a few hits in but again, no one was really a match for luke. the crowd around you had grown, chanting and cheering mixed in with laughter. “luke! luke let him go.” you shouted at him, but it wasn’t really any use, you implored his cabin mates to pull him away, and after a few seconds of contemplating they agreed. derek scrambled away, running with a few friends, whether to chiron or the cabins, as long as it wasn’t near you, luke was happy.

you stormed over to luke, clutching him by his shirt, “let’s. talk.” a plethora of ‘ooh’s’ rung out as luke shrugged off all the hands holding him back.

you’d found a quiet spot to talk, and with tears streaming down your faces, you talked. for the first time in three months, you held a conversation. it obviously wasn’t breezy, yelling and shouting, shoves from you, a slap or two. “you ignore me for three months, and then you beat the shit out of a guy just because he talked to me? what the hell is wrong with you? you were completely fine after we broke up, why did you do that?”

luke took a step closer, “you thought i was fine? i was anything but, every single night, all i wanted was you. you drive me insane, do you get that? not having you, not being able to hold you, to be with you.” his hand held your waist tightly, pulling you into him.

you were looking up at him, nose to nose, heaving chests and an unbelievable amount of tension in the air. “to kiss you.” he whispered, before kissing your neck. your hand tangled itself in his curls as his hand tightened around your waist, the other holding the back of your neck. the two of you ended up pushed against a tree, roaming hands and messy kisses.

“does this mean you’ll take me back?” luke whispered, forehead against yours, “are you willing to go public?”

he smiled, “for you? anything.”

[fcthots]

Drunk sex with jay?he's the one drunk btw

I got carried away...

This is one of the longest things I've ever written

He is such a horny drunk. It's been established for years at this point. He achieves something. He's proud of himself. He gets drunk. His face gets flushed. He gets flirty. He gets horny. All a part of the routine. You've talked about it. You've discussed it. You've accepted it.

And you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy the flirting at least a little.

He'd started drinking an hour ago. He's had his eyes locked on yours since then. He's watched your every step and hasn't stopped smiling.

You know he's watching you. You're standing with him in the kitchen. He's sitting on one of the metal barstool chairs he picked out a few months ago at some old furniture store. He's solidly drunk now. His steps waver when he tries to walk and he slurs his words when he speaks. He smile still doesn't drop.

He's been chattering most of the time, talking about nothing. Also flirting. So much flirting. But he's been silently staring at you for the last 3 minutes, a record.

He rests his chin in his hand. "I wanna taste you."

You drop the remote you were holding. He snickers. Loudly.

You let out a huff and bend over the grab the remote, blushing furiously. While you grab the remote from the floor, he soundlessly moves behind you. You're not entirely sure how he pulled it off in his drunken state. You don’t notice until you stand back up and his hands find your waist, pushing their way up under your shirt and tracing patterns into your skin. "Sounds like you like my idea. C'mon." He draws out the last syllable slightly. He turns you around, removing one hand to place it on your chin and tilt your head up to look at him. His eyes are hooded and dark. "Please?" His voice is gruff and slightly deeper than it usually is. How are you supposed to resist him?

He can see the surrender in your eyes ands smile brightens. You let out a breath. "You sure?"

He doesn't respond, just presses his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. He's no longer so drunk that he can't walk, but you still don't trust him to walk backwards to the couch the way he'd usually lead you during a kiss, so you walk yourself backward to the kitchen table. It breaks off the kiss when you sit, but Jason is quick to go to his knees to follow you. His mouth doesn't stay on yours for too much longer, it makes its way to your neck and you can feel him leave hickeys that surely won't be gone by tomorrow. His hands find their way back under your shirt to your hips and waist, pulling your body flush with his. They move and latch onto the hem of your shirt, trying to lift it, but he can't bring himself to move his mouth away from your neck. You do it for him. Faster than the flash, kid flash, or impulse could move, you lean slightly back and away to lift your shirt off your head. You toss the shirt across the room and you can faintly hear the fabric hit the ground as Jason's mouth returns to your neck.

But this time, it doesn’t stay in that one place for two long. How mouth moves to your finally freed collarbones and licks a hot strip up the middle of them. His eyes lock with yours and your skin feels warm and electric. His hands move up your body and try to make their way to your chest before he gets annoyed at the fabric there.

"Ugh!" His tone is annoyed and you can't help but let out a breath of a laugh. "Take it all off. Everything. Now."

"Bossy." But you're doing exactly what he says and you know he can see the excitement in your eyes. You think about making a remark about the clothing (What? can't figure out how to get it off?), but ultimately decide that getting the clothes off as fast as humanly possible is more pressing. His hands have to move away from your waist when it's time for the pants to go and you immediately miss the warmth of his touch. It isn't gone for long, though. The moment your underwear drops, his mouth is on your tits. He draws a nipple to his mouth and you can feel his tongue move against it. Your hands find their way into his hair as he moans and pushes the rest of his body against yours. You feel his teeth graze you and you let out a brief gasp. His fingers dip into your hipbones and he doubles his efforts.

He doesn’t want to spend too long on just one, though. He always says they both "deserve equal attention" (usually right after he says something like "mine. All fuckin mine,") but well his mouth is a little busy right now. His hands trail down to your thighs, moving up and down. They squeeze intermittently as he bares down on your tit. You try to rub your thighs together, to get some sort of friction, but his hands roughly push them apart and hold them in place.

You tug his hair back, moving his face away and making him look at you. His eyes are half lidded, dazed. There's not a damn thought in his brain other than you. He whines and it short circuits your brain. You were about to say something, but he beats you to it.

"Need you. Need to taste you. Please."

"Thought you'd never ask."

His head moves back to your chest, but this time it trails down. His open mouth kisses are quick and sloppy. He follows your skin as it moves with your quickening breaths. His hands move back up your thighs and this time they trail all the way to your hips. He licks a final stripe up your stomach as he jerks you to the edge of the table.

He moves his hands again, this time around the outer side of your knees. He briefly kisses his way up your thigh. You're both breathing loud and heavily by the time he hooks the knee over his shoulder. Then he moves his mouth the other thigh, moving his mouth along it the same way he did the previous one. And again when he finally makes all the way to your inner thigh, he backs his head up, smiles at you, and hooks that knee over his shoulder.

He lays down one last kiss before he looks back up at you again and says, "Sorry, ma. Can't wait any more."

His arms loop around your thighs to keep you in place and he wastes no further time. He licks a wet stripe up your cunt and you let out an unholy moan. His lips wrap around your clit and suck and your brain shuts off. Your eyes slide closed against your will, despite how fucking good he looks between your legs. The only thing you can do is feel what he's doing to you, and by the looks of it, he's in the same boat. You swear you don't know what he's doing with his tongue, but fuck it feels good.

You think he might be more drunk on you than the alcohol at this point, but regardless you notice he hasn't remembered to breathe since he started devouring you. You try to tug him by his hair but his neck remains stiff and he moans into your cunt (and fuck if that is't distracting). "Baby." You tug his scalp again, this time with force. He gasps when you pull him away. You make eye contact and his eyes are a fucking sight. His pupils are blown wide, but more important his mouth and chin are coated in your slick. He licks his lips and you almost lose it at the sight. "Don't forget to breathe."

He seemingly can't wait any longer because he talks on his way back to your cunt. "Yes ma'am." Your brain shuts off for the next two minutes. You suspect he might be tracing his name into you, but you're not complaining, especially when it feels like that. His fingers dig into your skin as you let out a stream of curses.

He backs away to catch his breath and had you been in any sort of state to, you might have made a remark about him remembering all on his own this time, but you're too thoroughly wrecked to let out anything other than a high pitched whine.

He breathes a laugh. "You sound like me. Tsk tsk tsk. I guess I've been rubbing off on you too much lately." You forget how much of a cocky bastard he can be. Apparently he's finished his meal, because he moves your knees off his shoulder and rises from his knees. There are red marks where his fingers were pressed into you. "C'mon. Get up. I'm gonna need you to ride me. Let's go. Let's go make you drunk on my cock, baby"

Time to find out if you can still walk.

[latenightdaydreams]

Can König and Stalker!Reader have a good ending? 🥹🥹🥹

Yes! It's not over yet, but it will end happy I promise. No angst 🥰

König x Stalker!Reader Part 2 (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 1, Part 3, Part 3.2

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, stalking, masturbation, invasion of privacy

1.0k word count

📸

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.

Early on a random Tuesday morning, König went to the local pet store and purchased a small aquarium and a few fish. Over the next few days, he set up the fish in their new home in his living room. König doesn’t want pet fish, doesn’t really even like them, but he wanted to throw you a bone.

A loud knock on your front door draws your attention away from the photo album of König’s photos that you’re looking at. You pull your hand out of your pants and walk to the front door to see König standing there. Before you answer the door, you take a deep breath to control your excitement so you don’t appear obsessed as you truly are.

“Hello, König.”

Your voice sends a shiver down his spine. The way your lips pull back into a small, sweet smile makes him feel like grabbing you and claiming your mouth with his. He can’t believe the way you look so naturally beautiful in lounge wear. His eyes travel down your form before meeting your eyes again.

“Hallo, Fräulein. I was wondering if I could ask a favor of you.”

“Of course.”

“I’m getting deployed for a few days and I wanted to know if you could feed my fish for me?”

“Absolutely!”

You respond quickly, almost too quickly. He could see something in your eyes click, an idea forming; it excites him. The corner of your lips turning upwards as you nod your head. He’s excited to see what you have planned for him. Before he leaves, he gives you the feeding schedule, ‘deployment’ schedule, and a spare key to his home.

The day he leaves, you wait a few hours to make sure he’s truly gone before excitedly making your way over to his front door. It’s as if you’re in a dream as the key slips into the lock and turns, unlocking heaven. You step in, closing the door behind you quickly. The first thing you notice is how amazing his home smells and how bare it seems; almost like he never fully moved in.

Slowly, you make your way through the home, taking your time to inspect every drawer and cabinet. When you cannot find anything of interest, you turn your attention to his bedroom. You open the door and look around; his bed is neatly made and everything is perfectly organized.

The hamper in the corner grabs your attention; going over and grabbing a shirt that is laying on top. As you lift it to your nose, the smell of his sweat filling your nostrils as you take a deep breath in. Bringing the shirt with you, you turn your attention to his bed. Piece by piece, you strip off your clothing as you walk to his bed. You pull the comforter back and lay on his bed; picking the side that is clearly used more.

Laying in his bed like this feels like being embraced in a tight hug from him. The idea of how many times he’s masturbated here crosses your mind, driving you absolutely insane. You drape his shirt over your face as you spread your legs open, moving slow circles around your clit before letting your hand drift downwards. Two fingers slip into your tight pussy, wishing it was König’s cock this whole time.

You run your other hand along the shape of your body, imagining those large rough hands caressing you. A whimper leaving you as you pinch your nipple, moaning out for König. If only you could feel the sensation of his heavy body pinning you to the mattress so that you can’t move, completely at his mercy as he shoves his cock deep inside of you.

In his hotel room, König sits on the bed stroking his cock feverishly as he watches you from the security cameras on his bed, pleasing yourself. It’s taking all the restraint he has to not just ruin his plan, return home, and fuck you where you lay now. Such a good eager girl for König, so desperate to get ruined by his cock.

“Das ist meine kleine Hure…” His voice weak with pleasure as he watches you leave a wet patch on his bed.

Over the next few days, the routine is the same, almost moving yourself into his home while he’s gone. König loves to see you in his home, he wishes he could lock you in and keep you forever; you probably wouldn’t even mind. Since there is only one more day before he returns, you leave to a local locksmith to get a copy of his key made followed by a trip to an electronics store.

Early the next morning there was a knock at the door. Knowing it was König, you rushed to answer it. He stands with his hands in his pockets and his blonde hair neatly combed back. You can’t stop yourself from looking at the way his muscles bulge from underneath his tight fitted shirt.

“Hallo, Fräulein. Thank you so much for your help.”

“It was no problem.” You smile as you hand him back his keys.

Once he leaves you rush to your bedroom, opening up your laptop. You log on to the live feed of the camera you hid in König’s bedroom, waiting for his appearance. König, aware of the one camera, walks into his bedroom and begins to undress.

König takes his time taking off each layer of clothing, giving you a little strip tease. He leaves his boxers on for a while as he walks around, teasing you a little bit. His muscles flex as he turns, slowly dropping his boxers. You see his muscular ass as he turns slowly, his hard cock in his hand as he strokes it slowly. He tugs at his heavy balls with his other hand.

Your face is almost pressed against your screen as you’re seeing how fucking big he actually is. He sits on the edge of the bed giving you a perfect view, you don’t even question it because of the show you’re getting. König moans loudly for you, imagining you in his mind shoving your little fingers in your cunt pathetically attempting to get close to the feeling he’s going to give you tomorrow.

Part 3, Part 3.2