#but look at me managing to sit down and write

[egglain]

Go Ahead & Cry (I’d Wipe Away All Your Tears)

incl.: nanami, choso, toji, gojo, geto, sukuna

summary: for a group of men who kill for a living, they’re awfully sweet… most of the time.

a/n: ngl i’m writing this bc i’m finally processing the US election results & i just… can’t deal. my heart goes out to all of you. pls take care of yourselves & enjoy the drabbles 🫶

Nanami

Nanami would be the first to notice something is off.

Whether you’re both at home and you’re just a bit too quiet, or he hasn’t heard from you by his lunch break while at work, something is distinctly off.

He wouldn’t be the nosy type, or the type to press. He’d bring home a sweet treat and a sentimental good (a potted flower, a stuffed animal, something that reminded him of you) without a word.

He wouldn’t pity you; far from it. And he’d never want to make you feel like that. So he’d leave the gifts on the coffee table and greet you with a kiss to the forehead, like always.

He’d sit in silence with you as if nothing was awry— allow you to feel your emotions. He’d put on a movie you like, something mindless and upbeat, without asking. Drag you to his chest and hold you there, keeping you warm and grounded in his touch.

If the waterworks start up, he’d rub your back with a large hand and press kisses to the part of your hair.

“That’s it. Get it out. I know.”

Choso

Choso is either too emotionally in-tune or completely clueless until the tears start.

But when he knows you’re upset, he feels it too.

He gets it wrong a lot of the time, at the beginning— tries to pry the cause out of you so he can minimize it. In his defence, he does it with good intentions; tries to help you see that the perceived threat is small in the greater scheme of things, that everything will work out.

But when the tears start welling, he knows he’s fucked up.

And god, is he so sweet trying to fix things.

“So sorry—“

He’d kiss the salty tears off your cheeks without hesitation.

“How do I make it stop?”

His bleeding heart is his biggest weakness and his greatest strength.

You wouldn’t have to lift a finger for the rest of the day, as he tries to make things up to you. Cooking (though he burns the bottom of the pan), cleaning (though he spills the food and has to clean again), and cuddles would be the itinerary.

Though he loves to be little spoon, he’d let you rest in his arms as long as you need it. And once you find a spot in his arms, he wouldn’t dare move.

Toji

Toji is not great with words. Or gifts. Or quality time, really.

Despite his best intentions, he always manages to fuck it up somehow. Usually by minimizing your feelings with a “what now?” or a “‘s not a big deal.” or a “nothin’ to cry over.”

It’s not his fault you cry over the little things & that you look so cute doing it. Those fat tears and reddened cheeks scratch the sadistic part of his brain so good.

That being said, he’s learned what you like over the years. Even stopped scoffing when he senses you’re feeling down.

No, he’s developed a plan.

At the first signs of distress (he’s gotten really good at recognizing these), he’s got you in his arms. If he’s at work, you better bet he’s speeding things up and hauling his ass back.

He wrestles you into his big clothes; don’t even think about fighting him on this. He wants you comfy and cozy. He’d be setting you up on the couch, dragging the comforter down from the bedroom to wrap you up. He’d sit there with you for hours, massaging your feet or calves and ordering food in. Your favourite fast food— and a whole lotta ice cream.

Don’t take advantage of his kindness though; he’s still Toji. Any snide comments, and he’d be quick to snap back.

“Shut up n’ let me take care of ya.”

Gojo

Gojo’s a little… misguided when cheering people up most of the time. That is, unless you find his goofy antics comforting.

He’s known for draping himself over shoulders obnoxiously, pinching and pulling cheeks, and light jabs that crack (only) him up.

When that doesn’t work, it’s a quick fix— thanks to the seemingly unending pit of his black card.

Gojo Satoru, at his core, is a gift giver.

Nothing pleases him more than sharing things with you that he thinks will bring you joy— whether that’s an expensive physical present or a luxurious vacation abroad.

He’s wrapped around your little fingers and a sniffle would have him buckling at the knees and fumbling for his wallet.

While this might look like a cop out— a way to get out of emotional intelligence duty— it’s just one part of his approach. The man is actually quite sensitive and understanding once you dig beneath the layers of persona. And he can be surprisingly mature— though he’d never want to show that side to most of the world.

He’d always listen to your yapping, validating your feelings— he’d take your side always. And he is a pro at shit-talking. At the end of it, you always come out feeling a little bit better. A little bit stronger.

You are the strongest together, after all.

Geto

Suguru is a problem-solver.

He’d sit and motion for you to lay your head on his thighs. Long elegant fingers would make gentle work of your roots and scalp, and the tension would be melting away. When you’re relaxed enough to breathe, he’d want to hear all the venting.

“Now do you want solutions or just my ear?”

He’s your rock; always puts things into perspective if you ask. He’s always got advice— though sometimes clouded by bias. Still, it’s nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of. Someone who actually listens.

Understands.

The flipside, however, is the darkness you find in him. He understands what to do because he’s hurt too. You can see it in the way he carries himself, in the bags under his eyes and the shake of his hands on the bad days.

But you care for him like he cares for you— braid his hair back, let him talk it out, gift whatever advice you can muster.

And as soon as you’re both feeling better, you’d be getting crêpes with the girls.

Sukuna

The King of Curses does not understand human sadness.

Perhaps he had empathy for it, centuries ago, before he became the Two-faced Spectre.

But now, seeing you upset, all he can think of is how pathetic tears look in reddened eyes.

He’d wipe them away with a big thumb, clicking his tongue.

“Unsightly, pathetic little thing.”

Yet, the way he speaks down to you holds a softness. A protective nature he rarely gives voice to.

He’d treat you like a porcelain doll; a prized possession. No measure was inconvenient when it came to appeasing you— though he’d be quick to reprimand entitlement. And vehemently deny any sort of feeling towards you.

When the tears come, he’d be signalling for Uraume to draw a bath and cook your favourite. You’d find your room tidied, trinkets left on the foot of your bed as if dragged in by a wild animal— an ornate dagger, gold jewellery, incense.

He wasn’t one to demonstrate affection— but he’d keep you close on the tough days. Whether it be making a seat for you on one of his hulking thighs or allowing you to sleep in his quarters, he’d allow you to do as you please.

[hoffmansgirl]

SO INTO YOU. ━ nicholas a. chavez & cooper koch ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

❝ pairing. n. chavez x fem!reader x c. koch ❞

a/n. woof this took long... i hope you enjoy though! let me know if you want a part two (i want to write it so bad but really rough & filthy this time). anyways requests are open just like my legs for these two

.ᐟ warnings. fluff (just nick & coop being cuties & in love!!!), SMUT! making out, soft!dom!cooper, more of a mean!dom!nicholas, slapping?, threesome ofc, oral (fem!receiving), fingering, orgasm denial, sum dirty talk (praise & slight degradation), more fluff :)) wc. 4896

The camera flashes made you slightly lightheaded as you posed, well-trained smile on your face ━ your uneasiness not visible to the paparazzi, but the two men next to you noticed it almost immediately.

Nicholas' hand was resting around your waist comfortably; not tight or low enough to draw attention of the cameramen, but with enough force to let you know that he was there for you.

You looked at Cooper, sweet smile on his face when he caught your eye, the flashes finally coming to an end, and all three of you exhaled with relief.

"I thought it would never end", you pressed your glossed lips together, fixing your hair softly, as you fell back against the chair.

Nicholas laughed at that, sitting across from you, the exhaustion visible in his eyes; he made sure no one was looking before taking your hand into his.

Your relationship with Nicholas was quite... complicated. You were best friends ever since you two met on the set of Monsters. It was you, Cooper and Nicholas, a trio that the internet loved.

Although, you were just a woman. And Nicholas was just a man. It soon evolved into something deeper; something you couldn't quite name. The lingering touches, sleeping on a couch together after an exhausting day on set, sporadic kisses on the cheek, a little too close to the corner of your lips. It would be hard to explain to the general public. You were just friends.

When it came to Cooper, he was the sunshine of your trio. His hugs warm, always making sure you were comfortable in his presence. He was so much different than Nicholas; less bold, always touching you with a glint of uncertainty. They complimented each other so well, it actually started driving you crazy.

You liked Nicholas, and you liked Cooper. Although at this point, you weren't sure if you only liked them. You still felt comfortable around them, but every touch from either of them sent a spark of excitement down your spine, which ━ you hoped ━ they didn't notice.

You had no idea what was happening, but you didn't like it.

Nicholas' thumb traced soft circles on the back of your hand, his eyes warm and welcoming, pretty smile adoring his face. You hesitated before returning the gesture, the loud music and incoherent voices seemed to fade into obscurity as you stared at him. He looked so good that night; a patterned, slightly unbuttoned shirt clung onto his body perfectly, simple black dress pants and shoes, and the god damn cross necklace. Such a simple look, but he looked absolutely flawless. You wondered how he managed to leave you speechless every time he walked into the room. His hair looked messier than usual after he ran a hand through it right after you all left the spotlight.

You shook slightly when you realised you were staring. Nicholas chuckled, shaking his head, hand leaving yours, the sudden coldness making you miss his touch almost instantly.

"You look good tonight", you declared, looking him up and down shamelessly, sly smirk appearing on your face. Nicholas leaned back against the chair, spreading his legs; the sight making your mouth water.

"Could say the same about you, Y/N", Nick rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb nonchalantly. A dangerous glint appeared in his eyes, and you crossed your legs at the sight. Your name leaving his mouth made you shift in your seat uncomfortably, the room becoming smaller in a second.

He didn't lie, though. You decided on a bold outfit, yet modest enough to make an impression. A tight bodysuit with built-in shorts, leaving a little to the imagination; brand new, knee high Naked Wolfe boots that made your legs look longer, and a leather, red coat. Nicholas almost choked when he first saw you, and so did Cooper ━ yet you didn't notice the way their eyes lingered on your body for a little too long.

"You look... fucking hot". You couldn't help but smile at the compliment; his voice sincere, eyes glistening with something you couldn't quite name, playful smirk lingering on his lips. You bit your lip, slightly breathless, playing with the hem of your bodysuit mindlessly. Nicholas' eyes wandered down your body as you did, your curves visible through the thin material, and he noticed that instantly.

"Hey!" Cooper's voice saved you from the heat of Nick's stare as he stepped in. You looked up at him, his presence not helping that much, after all; he looked so good, they both did.

"We have to do some interviews and then we can get the hell outta here", he declared, and you nodded, getting up from the chair awkwardly. A waitress stopped next to the three of you, tray with some kind of alcohol in her hand ━ champagne, you assumed, polite smile on her face. Without hesitation, you took a glass, swallowing all of its contents almost at once.

Nicholas and Cooper laughed when you made a face; it definitely wasn't a champagne. It tasted more like a vodka tonic. Your face twisted in pure disgust at the taste, eyes closing involuntarily.

"Now, slow down, pretty", Cooper said in a playful tone; the nickname made you wish you could drink five more of those drinks. You sent him a glare, small smile lingering on your lips nonetheless.

You heard someone call your name, and you exhaled at the sight of an interviewer waving at you. You exchanged knowing looks with both men before you all walked towards the camera.

A few hours and drinks later, you finally felt your body relaxing. The better part of the event came ━ an after party where cameras were not allowed. You were relieved; the annoying and disrespectful paparazzi followed you like lost puppies, as if trying to capture every single moment of your evening.

You found yourself sitting at the bar, Nicholas and Cooper nowhere in sight. You played with the rim of your glass, the slight buzz finally getting to you, small smile playing on your face.

An image of Cooper and Nick popped up in your head again, and you found yourself thinking about them in inappropriate ways.

The way they'd kiss you, Nicholas more harshly, demanding, almost aggressively. And Cooper? Cooper would take his time, leaving you breathless and painfully turned on when he pulled away. You had no idea which one you liked better. Preferably both, at the same time.

You shook your head, finally deciding on going to search for them. The smell of weed filled your nostrils, and you raised your eyebrows; it wasn't usual for celebrities events to go this far.

Your steps were quite unsure and shaky due to the alcohol in your system, but still confident, as you paced through the crowd of people. You looked around you in search of Cooper familiar curls, but you soon realised it was pointless.

What if they're making out with some random girls?

The thought crossed your mind and you shifted uncomfortably, accepting your defeat as you walked towards the bathrooms.

The corridor was dark, and if it wasn't for the music still playing loudly in the background and the alcohol in your system, you would definitely be scared.

Your boots echoed through the walls, shiver running up your spine at the sudden coldness. You almost screamed when the men's bathroom door opened, and you were met with someone's warm chest.

His smell filled your nostrils, and you exhaled, recognising it right away. Nicholas.

"Already falling for me, doll?", he laughed when you looked up at him, the height difference almost ridiculous ━ even when you were wearing the highest boots you could find.

The corridor was lit only by the men's bathroom dim lightning, and you suddenly felt a spark of excitement run through your chest.

"I was looking everywhere for you!", you declared, stepping away from him, the smell of his cologne making your head spin a little. You studied his face; he seemed completely sober, hair in the same condition you last saw it in ━ so he didn't fuck anyone during his absence. Relief run through your veins at the realisation, small smile making its way onto your face.

"I was looking for you, too", he grinned, and your stomach turned at the sight. "We were just talking about getting the hell out of here. Wanna spend the night?", he asked casually, and even though it wasn't unusual for you to stay over at his place, it felt different this time. You nodded frantically, biting your lip. His cross, gold chain glistened in the dim lightning, and you couldn't help but stare at his chest, hiding under the shirt.

"You know...", you started, your hand moving up before you could register, fingertips lingering on his chest softly. Nicholas stiffened when you met his eyes, and his jaw clenched. "You look really good tonight".

"If you were anyone else, I'd think you're flirting with me", he laughed, but you could feel his muscles tensing when you run your fingers over his chest more confidently now. You tilted your head, wanting nothing more than to feel his skin on yours. "And what if I was?", you challenged, voice teasing, and his hands were on your hips in an instant. Nicholas pulled you close, hands slipping under your loose coat, running over your curves greedily.

"I wouldn't mind", he said truthfully, and you breathed out. He was so close, you could feel his breath on your cheek, and your lashes fluttered at the feeling. "I would say... you look tempting. Making it really hard for me to control myself".

You tensed, hands running over the sides of his neck, eyes never leaving his, and you noticed how much darker they've gotten. With one swift movement, you were against the wall, Nicholas' hand lifting your leg to rest on his hip.

"You have no idea what you do to me", he whispered, his voice low and predatory, as his other hand run over your throat softly.

This will ruin our friendship. These words echoed in your head as you looked deep into his eyes, gaze almost innocent, sending jolts of electricity down to his cock. Any doubt left your mind when you realised that you waited for this for the longest time. Maybe I like him a little too much, you thought, as your eyes lingered on his lips, so tempting. Before he could say anything else, you pressed your lips to his greedily.

You couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips at the contact; your lips moved in a perfect sync, hands roaming over his chest, nails digging into his skin. Nicholas held your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh in his big hand, the other one tangling itself in your hair.

He pulled on it, hard, and you whimpered, the pain on your scalp sending sparks of pleasure straight to your core. He smiled into the kiss, body pressing into yours with force as his tongue found its way into your mouth. One more pull at your hair, and you moaned into the kiss, his tongue half down your throat in an instant. It traced the inside of your mouth, almost as if he was trying to memorise every single detail about it.

He swallowed your moan as you arched into him, eager to feel all of him all over you, his strong hold on your hair only intensifying.

You felt his bulge press into your thigh deliciously; you tested the waters by grinding your hips down, and he let out a strangled moan, the sound making you shiver.

The next second Nicholas' lips were all over your neck, and your head tilted back involuntarily, mouth opening in a desperate moan. That was before you realised you were still on an event ━ public event, and that someone could actually catch you making out in a dark corridor.

You tried to form a sentence, but the words died before you could speak, as he sucked the soft skin on the column of your throat: marking you.

"Nick- we need to-", you tried to explain how irresponsible he was being, but he didn't seem to listen; if anything, he got more eager, pressing you flat against the wall, hips moving forward to grind against you.

That's when he opened his eyes and looked into the darkness surrounding you; and he was pleased to see Cooper standing there, leaning against the wall, watching the little show in front of him with interest.

Nicholas smiled as you pulled at his shirt, playing with the buttons, and he kissed your neck once again just to distract you from noticing Cooper.

"Looks like have an audience, doll", he whispered in your ear, and it took you a second to actually process his words; when you did, your eyes shot open.

"Holy shit", you heard a familiar voice; your eyes widened even more in realisation.

Cooper stood there, in the darkness, and if it wasn't for his voice you wouldn't even notice he was there. He took a step closer, and you were surprised to see that he didn't look mad. He didn't look surprised, either. Small smirk made its way onto his face, eyes dark ━ but it could be all about the shitty lightning.

You bit your lip, not quite knowing what to say. Nicholas took a step back, not a trace of shame or embarrassment on his face; he returned Cooper's gaze, a silent deal made between the two.

You knew Cooper was into guys. You weren't quite sure if he liked girls, too ━ you never asked, partially because you were scared of the answer. His words made you think that maybe he was into Nicholas, maybe he liked him the way you did. You shifted uncomfortably, not meeting his eyes.

"Well, we are finally getting there", Nicholas said, fixing the bulge in his pants shamelessly, and your gaze lingered on it for a little too long. You wanted ━ no, needed ━ more, and getting caught by Cooper of all people didn't exactly help the pulsing between your legs. Nick caught your gaze, playful glint in his eyes, but he looked unaffected. You wondered what he meant, but just before you could ask, he already took your hand and leaded you to the door; Cooper following close behind you.

You were panting, hair messy and lipgloss smudged; most of it stayed on Nicholas' face, though. Your eyes glistened insatiably, his words echoing in your mind like a promise of what was about to come.

You didn't remember the way back to your hotel; when you did get there, though, you felt Nicholas' hand low on your back, Cooper keeping his distance as you walked to one of the boys' room; you couldn't help but wonder if he was mad at what he had witnessed, guilt blooming in your stomach.

Nicholas looked relaxed, though, sending you and Cooper an occasional smile, tracing soft circles onto your back, and you shivered at his touch.

You got to the room 230; you remembered it belonged to both of them. As Cooper unlocked the door, Nicholas' presence behind you like a shadow; you walked in, the tension between the three of you lingering in the air as you made your way to the living room.

"Coop, I...", you started, breaking the silence, as Nicholas disappeared in his own room. The older man didn't look at you when he took his coat off, avoiding your gaze. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't... We shouldn't have...".

You could tell he was holding himself back as he did everything but look at you, pretending to be extremely busy with his watch.

"I'm not mad, Y/N", he ensured; you raised your eyebrows at the sound of his voice. Hoarse, low and quite strangled.

"Then why won't you look at me? Why won't you talk to me?", you whined, the need to confess everything you felt for him now stronger than ever.

He didn't answer. You sighed, a hint of annoyance now clear in your voice.

You stared at Cooper from a safe distance, taking in the sight in front of you. He looked just as good as Nick: simple but elegant, making you sweat like a dog in heat. A black, plain sweater, dress pants and shoes complimenting his tan skin. His long fingers played with the watch on his wrist, and you couldn't help but imagine the possibilities.

You took the coat off your shoulders, the sudden heat all over your body making you sweat uncontrollably. Your boots clicked against the marble floor as you made your way to the couch, throwing the coat on it carelessly.

You took a deep breath before deciding on what to do next.

"Coop...", you turned to him, and he finally met your eyes. "I want... For the longest time, I...".

The weight of what you were about to confess fell on your shoulders with force, words dying in your throat under his intense gaze.

"She wants to fuck us".

Your eyes widened at the words leaving Nicholas' mouth. You turned to him, he leaned against the doorframe, shirt slightly unbuttoned, dress pants still low on his hips. He must've been there for quite a while, watching you struggle.

"I...", you tried to explain, all of it pointless when he smiled knowingly.

You couldn't lie to then and say that he was wrong; but you couldn't just admit that he was right.

"I'm not doing this", you whimpered, embarrassment filling your whole chest, making it hard to breathe.

"You're not doing what? Admitting the truth? It would be so much easier for us to grant your wishes sooner if you were honest from the start, pretty", Cooper got closer to you by a second, and Nicholas creeped in behind you, the room becoming smaller in a second as you realised that they planned all of this.

Cooper tilted his head, his gaze hardening dangerously as he watched you.

Nicholas' chest pressed against your back, and you whined at the contact; your eyes never left Cooper's, almost as if an invisible string was connecting the two of you.

A wet kiss on the side neck was all it took for your knees to buckle. Before you knew it, Nicholas was devouring the delicate skin of your neck and collarbones, his big hands closing on your hips, making sure you stayed upright.

This is so wrong, you thought when Cooper took a step towards you, and, as if he was testing the waters, leaned over to brush your lips against his. Nicholas licked a wet stripe up your neck, and you arched your back, a quiet whimper leaving your mouth when Cooper came closer, pinning you between his and Nicholas' bodies.

"Tell me you want this", he whispered, voice soft, and you tried to nod, but Nicholas' actions on your neck made you slightly lightheaded. "Tell me".

"I- I do", you breathed out. "Wanted this for so long".

You felt Nick smile against your skin as he pulled away just slightly, his bulge pressing against your ass deliciously. Your mind went blank as Cooper finally pressed his lips to yours, his kiss soft but demanding.

Nicholas squeezed your hips in his big hands, and you whined, clawing at Cooper's chest, the urge to feel his skin on yours overwhelming, and Nicholas was back on you again. He cupped your breasts through the thin material of your bodysuit; you moaned shamelessly, biting on Cooper's lip, the taste of him intoxicating.

You were in one of the boys' room in a blink of an eye. Nicholas grinned at you and sat down on the bed, and your lips were back on his in an instant. He tugged at your hair yet again as you started unbuttoning his shirt; the feeling of his chiselled chest under your fingertips almost making you drool a little.

You pulled away, taking the excess clothing off his body, throwing it somewhere on the floor. You looked at Cooper, his eyes glistening softly as he traced his fingers down your back. You couldn't decide whether to focus on him or Nicholas.

Cooper kissed you again, this time more aggressively, pushing his tongue into your mouth for it to tangle with your own; a groan left his mouth at the taste of you as he held you close, tugging at the material of your bodysuit urgently.

You smiled before pulling away, taking off your shoes ━ the height difference even more prominent now ━ before you removed the bodysuit from your body in one, swift movement.

Your back was met with the soft sheets, the boys towering over you, each on opposite sides of the bed. Your chest heaved with uneven breaths, and you thanked yourself for choosing a sexy set of lingerie for the night.

Nicholas' greedy hands were on you, everywhere at once, running over your curves, squeezing the soft skin of your covered breasts. You whined, searching for Cooper's mouth again, and he gladly leaned in, delicate touch lingering on your neck, making sure to leave you panting under him.

"We've talked about it for months", Nick admitted, and Cooper pulled away, nodding at his words.

"We wanted to have you right here, under us, letting us use you however we please", the younger man continued, exposing your boobs with one strong tug at the lacy material of your bra.

You panted when you felt both of their lips on your sensitive skin there. The difference between the two men more prominent than ever now that they were touching you. Cooper's movements were more thoughtful as he pressed wet kisses on the skin of your boob, tongue darting out to circle around your nipple teasingly. Nicholas didn't hold back, biting at the sensitive nub between strong sucks, making you see stars. They complimented each other so well, it actually made you whine and arch your back as you tugged at their hair.

"Holy shit, please", you begged for god knows what, and you almost cried out in relief when Nicholas lowered his head, pressing kisses all over your stomach, before he found the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

Cooper positioned himself so that he could sit behind you, his legs on both sides of your own. He grabbed your thighs, spreading them open for Nicholas; he lowered his head to look at your drenched cunt, a small patch of wetness on the centre of your panties. He hummed, biting the soft skin of your thighs, and when he looked up at you, you felt as if you could come at the sight alone.

Cooper kept one of his hands on your thigh, while the other one travelled up your stomach, between your boobs, brushing against your hard nipples just for a second.

"Are you sure?" he whispered in your ear softly in the exact moment when Nicholas' lips pressed against your clothed pussy. He placed a dirty, open mouthed kiss on the center, and you shivered, head lulling back against Cooper's shoulder.

"Answer him, doll", Nick demanded; voice sharp and dangerously low as he watched the way your jaw went slack, mouth opening in a quiet whimper.

"She sounds so pretty", the older man smirked, and you felt his bulge press against your back. His grip on your tight tightened, and he pressed a soft kiss on your shoulder.

"Nick, please, yes- I'm sure", your eyes opened involuntarily as he moved your panties to the side, your wet cunt now exposed to the cool air around you.

"Holy shit", Nicholas smiled, tilting his head while his thumb pressed against your clit. The touch was barely there, but it didn't fail to send jolts of electricity down your spine. "She's so wet, Cooper. Almost dripping all over my sheets".

Cooper hummed softly right into your ear and you twitched against both of them. They were talking as if you weren't there, and it made you embarrassingly more turned on.

"Yeah?", he rasped, the sound making you shiver against them. One of Cooper's hands travelled down to brush against your puffy clit. You moaned as they both touched you; Nicholas' fingers slowly dipping into your entrance, the wetness coating your walls making it easy for him to stretch you out. Cooper's thoughtful touch graced the button hiding between your folds. His touch so delicate, unlike Nicholas' ━ his fingers moved slowly but steadily, pulling them out almost fully before dipping back in.

You were breathless; your chest heaved with uneven breaths, one of Cooper's hand resting on your boob ━ not putting any pressure, just letting you feel his hands on your overheated body.

"So good, oh shit-", you managed to get out as your back arched off the bed; Nicholas was quick to hold your hips down with his unoccupied hand. His wrist moved faster now, along with Cooper's; they found just the right rhythm to make you go crazy without making you come too fast.

Whimpers left your mouth as you gripped Cooper's thighs, your nails digging into his skin with enough force to leave marks.

"You're right, she's practically soaking our hands", Cooper murmured, and you could feel your cheeks heating up. Your eyes fell closed for a second, before his free hand reached to grab your neck ━ pressing with pressure that made you slightly lightheaded, but not with enough force to choke you. Your eyes flew open; Cooper looked down at you, his darkened eyes making your legs shake.

"Don't close your eyes, darling", he held your throat harder; both of their hands moving in sync, determined to get you to your peak. "Please", you whispered pathetically, turning your eyes to Nicholas, who was watching you the whole time. His mouth formed into a dirty, open mouthed smirk, sending sparks of electricity down your spine.

Holy shit.

"Are you close, doll?" Nicholas asked, his voice raspier than you've ever heard before. You nodded frantically, the coil in your stomach ready to snap any second now. You whined when Cooper's fingers left your clit and Nick slowed down.

"No, fuck!", you cried out, hips bucking into Nicholas' hand, and they both definitely didn't like it.

You felt a strong sting on your left breast, Cooper's hand slapping it roughly.

"Look at her, practically crying for us to make her cum", Nicholas tutted, his drenched fingers scissoring into your cunt. Before you could come up with a smart reply, his mouth was all over you.

He pressed a wet kiss right on your clit. You squirmed; Cooper held both of your boobs in his big hands as he watched Nicholas devour you with a satisfied smile on his face, index finger and thumb tugging on your nipples experimentally.

Nicholas held your gaze as he licked a stripe from your opening up to your clit. He sucked the little button between his lips, tongue tracing circles around it, his fingers inside of you moving with precision, hitting just the right spot every time.

"She tastes so sweet, Coop", he groaned between licks, winking at you, the vibrations of his voice making your thighs shake around his head.

"Oh, I bet she does", Cooper replied breathlessly and he forced your face towards him; his mouth meeting yours instantly, tongue playing with yours as he swallowed your moans.

"I'm-", you weren't able to finish the sentence, before Nicholas sucked on your clit particularly hard, his fingers moving swiftly inside of you, and you could feel your orgasm nearing.

"Come for us", Cooper whispered softly, fingers playing with your stiff nipples non-stop as you whimpered into his mouth.

"Yeah, baby, come on, make a mess for us", Nicholas pulled away only enough to watch your face twist in pure bliss, the sight of you kissing Cooper while he pleasured you turning him on more than it should.

You cried out, one last withdraw of Nicholas' fingers and your back arched off the bed; they didn't stop you this time. Cooper pulled away to watch your face as you wet Nicholas' hand, creaming all over his thick fingers.

You were breathless, eyes threatening to close, but instead they widened, when Nicholas got up from his knees, grabbing Cooper's hair, and then kissing him.

Obscene sounds left both of their mouths as Nick let Cooper taste you on his tongue. You watched the scene shamelessly, your pussy clenching around nothing as Cooper sucked on Nicholas' mouth before pulling away.

"You're right, she tastes fucking divine", he breathed out, grinning at you and Nick, eyes clouded with lust.

Your legs closed, the earth shattering orgasm leaving you spent and limp between their bodies.

Your head fell against Cooper's chest, and he wrapped his arms around you in an instant.

Nick smiled at the sight of you, so defenceless and spent after only his fingers and mouth.

He pressed a sweet kiss against your forehead, and you murmured something incoherent, almost falling asleep right there and then.

"No. I wanna cuddle", you whined when Cooper and Nicholas tried to pull away, but they were quick to obey. Cooper laid you on your side, his chest pressed firmly against your back, and Nicholas laid down on his back, letting you rest your head against his own chest. He played with your hair mindlessly, and you were fast to fall asleep, nothing but happiness filling both your heart and mind.

hoffmansgirl © 2024 | request here !!

nicholas alexander chavez masterlist 𓂃✮‧₊˚໒꒱ ₊

[levandright]

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

their favorite way to show their love for you is through — words of affirmationꜝꜝ

if you enjoyed reading this consider leaving a like or reblog ᐢ..ᐢ

pairing ⋆ ot7 enhypen x gn! reader ʬʬ content / warning(s) ⋆ comfort—so much comfort, established relationship, non-idol au ꕀ word count : 2,541 (the longest yet) ʬʬ go back to the start? ᐢ..ᐢ lev notes : tysmmm to my lovely moots for giving me the inspiration for this by answering my lil survey <3 as usual my bsf proofread + edited and added to this (they should start their own blog istg- but then again they don't really write as a hobby... + they're busy so i think their blog would just collect dust T-T) i should really take notes cause they write so poetically...

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 - “ you are capable of so much more than you know.”

you’re sitting on your bed, feeling the weight of deadlines and responsibilities pressing down on you. the glow of your laptop screen feels harsh in the dim light, and you can’t shake the sense of being overwhelmed. just as you take a deep breath, there’s a soft knock at your door.

“heesung?” you call, grateful for his presence. he opens the door, his expression shifting from concern to warmth as he sees you.

“hey y/n, i brought some snacks,” he says, holding out a plate of your favorite treats. “but I can tell you need more than just food right now.”

you give a small smile, but it fades as you look back at your screen. “i just feel like everything is piling up. i don’t know how to handle it all.”

he sits down beside you, placing the snacks aside. “let me remind you of something,” he begins, his voice soft yet steady. “just like the moon must endure the night before it can shine, you too will find your light again. it’s okay to feel this way; it’s part of the journey.”

you look at him, captivated by his words. “but what if I can’t find my way?”

he gently takes your hand, his grip reassuring. “you are not lost; you are simply navigating through a storm. allow the winds to guide you, and trust that the sun will rise again. each challenge you face is like a note in a beautiful song—sometimes dissonant, but eventually leading to harmony.”

his poetic words wrap around you like a warm embrace, and you feel the tension in your shoulders start to ease. “you really know how to lift my mood, don’t you?”

he smiles, a twinkle in his eye. “i’m here to remind you that even the darkest nights will give way to dawn. let’s take a moment to breathe and celebrate your strength. you are capable of so much more than you know.”

with a newfound sense of hope, you nod. “thank you, heesung. i really needed to hear that.”

“anytime,” he replies, and together, you take a deep breath, allowing the weight to lift just a little more as you share in the comforting silence.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 - “you did your best, and that’s enough.”

the evening is quiet as you sit on the edge of your bed, shoulders slumped and eyes fixed on the floor. it’s been a tough day—one of those days where no matter how hard you tried, nothing seemed to go right. frustration bubbles inside you, mixing with a sense of inadequacy you can’t seem to shake.

you hear a gentle knock at the door, and a moment later, jay steps inside. he takes one look at you and instantly understands; he’s seen that look before.

without a word, he crosses the room and sits beside you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. you look up, trying to manage a small smile, but it fades quickly. “i really tried, jay. but I feel like it wasn’t enough. nothing went the way i wanted it to.”

jay’s gaze is warm and understanding, his expression softening as he listens. he reaches for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “hey,” he says, his voice calm and steady. “you did your best, and that’s enough.”

you blink, letting his words sink in, but part of you wants to protest. “but… what if my best wasn’t good enough?” he shakes his head, his hand still holding yours.

“your best isn’t measured by the outcome. it’s about the effort you put in, even when things get tough. you showed up, you tried, and that’s what really matters.”

a comforting silence settles between you as you take in his words. “i guess i just wanted everything to go perfectly.”

“i know,” he replies gently. “but perfection isn’t what makes you amazing. your determination, your resilience—that’s what i see, and that’s what matters to me.”

a small smile finally breaks through, and you feel a weight begin to lift. “thank you, jay. i needed to hear that.”

he smiles back, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “i’ll always be here to remind you.” then, with a soft touch, he pulls you into a warm hug, his embrace steady and reassuring.

and as you relax in his arms, you realize that maybe, just maybe, doing your best really is enough.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 - “even the stormiest skies eventually clear.”

it’s a rainy evening, and the soft patter of raindrops against the window matches the heaviness in your heart. you sit curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, staring at your phone, feeling overwhelmed by the weight of your worries.

suddenly, the door creaks open, and jake steps in, shaking off the rain and instantly brightening the room with his presence. “hey there sunshine,” he greets, noticing your downcast expression. “what’s got you looking so glum?”

you sigh, feeling a mix of relief and sadness. “just… everything. It’s been a rough few days.”

without hesitation, he plops down beside you, pulling you into his side. “i get it. life can feel like a heavy cloud sometimes, but remember, even the stormiest skies eventually clear.”

you lean against him, grateful for his warmth. “it just feels endless right now.”

he brushes a stray hair behind your ear, his voice steady and soothing. “you’re not alone in this. i’m here to help you carry the weight. let’s take it one step at a time. every storm has its purpose, and i believe you’re going to come out even stronger.”

a small smile breaks through your gloom as you look into his eyes. “thank you, jake. you always know how to make me feel better.”

he grins, his eyes sparkling. “of course. you light up the darkest nights. just remember, whenever you’re feeling low, I’m right here to remind you how incredible you are.”

feeling a sense of comfort wash over you, you snuggle closer, letting his reassuring words wrap around you like a warm blanket as the rain continues to fall outside.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 - “you mean so much to me”

you’re standing in the snack aisle of your favorite grocery store, contemplating whether to go with your usual chips or try something new. sunghoon, who’s been scanning the shelves beside you, suddenly goes quiet. when you glance over, you catch him just… staring at you, a small, soft smile on his face.

“uh, did i miss something?” you ask, laughing a little as you grab a bag of chips.

sunghoon shakes his head, but his smile only grows wider. he takes a step closer, lowering his voice as if he’s about to share a secret. “you know you mean so much to me, right?”

you blink, surprised by the sudden confession. glancing around, you notice a few shoppers moving past, some casting curious looks your way. “sunghoon, we’re at the store…” you whisper, cheeks warming as you give him a playful nudge.

he chuckles, completely unfazed by the setting or the people around. “i know, but i just wanted to say it. i love you, and i don’t care where we are. i don’t want to miss a chance to remind you.”

your face softens, and you feel your heart flutter at his sincerity. “you’re so random sometimes, you know that?”

he grins, grabbing the bag of chips out of your hand to toss it into the cart. “maybe, but you love it,” he says with a playful wink.

you roll your eyes, trying to hide your smile. “yeah, maybe i do.”

and as you continue down the aisle, you feel lighter, his words replaying in your mind. sunghoon may choose the most unexpected times to say how he feels, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 - “you are more than enough.”

the evening light filters through your window, but instead of its usual warmth, it only amplifies the feeling of heaviness in your chest. after a long day, you find yourself scrolling through social media, comparing yourself to the perfect smiles and flawless features of others. tears start to fall, blurring your vision as self-doubt creeps in.

suddenly, there’s a soft knock at your door, and before you can respond, sunoo enters. he immediately notices your tear-streaked face, his expression shifting from curiosity to concern. “hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, quickly crossing the room to sit beside you.

you wipe your eyes, attempting a smile, but it falters. “i just… i feel like i’m not pretty enough for you,” you admit, your voice trembling. “you could find someone so much better.”

sunoo’s heart aches at your words. he reaches out, gently taking your hand in his. “what? no way,” he says, his tone firm yet gentle. “you are more than enough. these thoughts don’t reflect who you truly are.”

“but everyone else seems perfect,” you reply, your voice breaking.

he shakes his head, squeezing your hand tighter. “perfection is a myth, and even if it were real, it wouldn’t matter. you are unique and beautiful in your own way. i see all the things that make you special, and they’re what drew me to you in the first place.”

a small, hopeful smile begins to form on your lips as you look into his eyes. “really?”

“absolutely,” he replies, leaning in closer. “i love you just the way you are, and i would never trade you for anyone else. you are perfect to me, and I’ll always be here to remind you of that, especially on the tough days.”

feeling the warmth of his words seep into your heart, you nod, gratitude flooding through you. “thank you, sunoo. i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. “you’ll never have to find out. i’m here for you, always.”

as you settle into his warmth, the weight of your insecurities begins to lift. then, gently pulling back, sunoo cups your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours. “can i show you how much you mean to me?”

before you can respond, he leans in and kisses you softly, his lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter. it’s a kiss filled with reassurance and love, reminding you that you are enough just as you are.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 - “you’re doing your best, and that’s what matters most.”

the sun has just begun to set, casting a warm glow through your bedroom window as you sit at your desk, surrounded by textbooks and notes. you’ve been putting in long hours, determined to improve your grades and stay on top of your studies. but tonight, exhaustion starts to seep in, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of doubt about whether all this effort is worth it.

just then, jungwon knocks softly before entering your room, a bright smile lighting up his face. “hey, i brought you some snacks!” he says cheerfully, holding up a plate filled with your favorite treats.

you look up, trying to muster a smile. “thanks, jungwon. i really appreciate it, but I’m not sure i have time to eat right now.”

he sets the plate down beside you and leans against the desk, observing your scattered notes. “you’ve been at this for hours, haven’t you? i just wanted to check in on you.”

you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “yeah, i’m trying to keep up, but it feels like I’m not making any progress.”

jungwon’s expression softens as he looks at you. “i see how hard you’re working every day, and i want you to know that it doesn’t go unnoticed. you’re putting in so much effort, and that’s something to be proud of.”

his words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you’re speechless. “you really think so?”

“absolutely,” he replies, his voice sincere. “you’re doing your best, and that’s what matters most. remember, progress isn’t always immediate, but every step you take is a step closer to your goals.”

feeling encouraged, you take a deep breath and nod. “thanks, jungwon. that means a lot coming from you.”

he smiles and pulls you into a gentle hug. “and don’t forget to take breaks, okay? you can’t pour from an empty cup.”

you laugh softly, feeling lighter already. “i’ll try my best.”

“good,” he says, stepping back and gesturing to the plate of snacks. “now, let’s take a break and enjoy these together. you deserve it.”

as you share the snacks and laughter, you feel a renewed sense of motivation. jungwon’s unwavering support reminds you that you’re not alone in your journey, and his encouragement makes all the difference.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 - “it’s okay to be tired.”

it’s a saturday afternoon, and the sun filters through the window, casting a warm glow in the room. riki had been looking forward to spending the day with you, but as he watches you curled up on the couch, he notices something isn’t right. you’re usually vibrant and full of energy, but today, you seem dulled, your usual spark muted.

“y/n,” he says softly, sitting down beside you. “you okay? you seem a bit… off.”

you look up, forcing a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “yeah, i’m fine. Just a bit tired, i guess.”

riki studies your face, noticing how your gaze drifts away, trying to mask your weariness. “you know, it’s okay to be tired. you don’t have to hide it from me. everyone has those days.”

you shrug, trying to play it off. “i didn’t want to ruin our day.”

he shakes his head, concern deepening in his eyes. “you could never ruin our time together. if you’re feeling overwhelmed, it’s totally normal. you don’t have to put on a brave face all the time.”

taking a deep breath, you look away, guilt creeping in. “i just didn’t want to burden you with my problems.”

“listen,” riki says gently, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “feeling tired and needing a break doesn’t make you weak. it just means you’re human. we all have our limits. i care about you, and it’s okay to share how you really feel.”

you meet his gaze, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude. “i appreciate that, riki. i guess i just thought i should be able to handle it all.”

he smiles softly, his voice steady. “there’s strength in acknowledging when you need help. so, how about we take a break together? we can watch a movie and order your favorite takeout. no stress, just a cozy day.”

your heart warms at his thoughtfulness. “that sounds perfect.”

“great! i’ll grab my phone,” he says, jumping up with newfound energy. as he moves about the room, you feel a sense of comfort wash over you. riki has a way of making you feel understood, reminding you that it’s okay to let your guard down.

as the two of you settle in for a cozy afternoon, laughter and lightheartedness return, slowly chasing away the shadows of your worries. when he finally sits back down beside you, he leans closer, gently brushing a stray hair from your face.

“just remember, i’m always here for you,” he whispers, his eyes warm with sincerity.

before you can respond, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his touch lingering as a wave of comfort washes over you. in that moment, you feel a sense of peace, knowing that with riki by your side, you can be your true self without fear.

perm taglist. @honeychocos @kozumesphone @manaah02 (open)

wyll taglist. @lilly-cherry7 (comment or ask to be added)

©levandright

[strangelysamantha]

good girl ✧

eddie munson x fem!reader.

warnings: smut. MDNI!! 18+!! swearing; slight degradation if you squint. pure filth.

summary: eddie munson loves eating pussy, better yet he loves fucking you after he’s already made you crumble.

a/n: i want to write more to distract myself but im too lazy to grab my computer so this is written on my phone. like and reblog if you enjoy. eddie is hot 🩷 also im changing the intro to my stories bc i feel like some of it was unnecessary lol ^~^

-————————————————-

“god you’re so fucking pathetic.” eddie grabbed your throat, looking directly into your eyes. “you must want my cock so bad, hmm?” he used his finger to feel your clothed pussy. “soaking wet and i’ve barely even touched you.” you groan, the anticipation creeping up. “please ed,” you whimper softly, rutting your hips forward. “i need you so bad.” he tsks, standing straight. he locks his eyes with yours, slowly undoing his belt. his cock was hard, desperate for your touch, but he wanted to make you beg for him.

“why should i fuck you?” he questions, his pants are down now, his hard length protruding through his underwear. you frown, realizing what he was leading up too. “eddie please.” he shakes his head, “cmon baby, tell me.” you close your eyes, taking a shaky breath. “i need you to touch me.” he leans forward, “not good enough.” he stands up again, furthering the distance. “please all night you’ve been teasing me. i just want you to fuck me.” he sighs contentedly, placing a kiss on your lips. your hunger kicked into overdrive and you immediately kiss him back, your tongue fighting with his. you wrap your arms around his neck, holding tightly onto him. he pulls away and you immediately frown. “let me help you with these.” he leans down, removing the lacey material, exposing your pussy.

“promise im all yours?” you enthusiastically shake your head, “im all yours ed’s i promise.” he reaches his two fingers towards your mouth. “open.” you happily oblige, “wider.” he sets his fingers into your mouth, allowing your tongue to wet them. “such a good girl.” he leans on the bed with you now.

you were in a quite vulnerable position, legs wide. eddie licked his lips, his eyes mentally taking note of your exposed body. he places his wet fingers inside of you, slowly stretching you out. “i gotta get you nice and ready for my cock; yeah?” you couldn’t manage to utter a single word, so you just watch him in awe. he reaches forward, now using his tongue to lap against your clit. you throw your head back; a small moan escaping you. this made his heart speed up, he continued at a quick place, licking your pussy and thrusting his fingers into you. your hands grab his hair, keeping his face close to your cunt. “so good ed’s, feels so good.” he continues; seeing you crumble beneath him gave him an ego boost, and you were very aware. but eddie munson was really good at eating pussy, and with all the attention he focused on your clit, he was soon making you approach your first orgasm.

his free hand grabs your thigh tightly, his fingers leaving red marks into your fleshy skin. “don’t stop, please,” you hook your legs around him, forcing him close to your pussy. “i’m gonna cum.” he helps you through your high, your legs shaky slightly. “you taste so good sweetheart.” you shake your head, now embarrassed. “don’t be embarrassed baby, that was really sexy.” you decide to make the next move, eager to feel him inside you.

you sit up; reaching for his underwear. you pull it down to reveal his cock. it’s hard, throbbing; and there’s a decent amount of precum leaking from his red tip. you reach out, stroking him. he groans under your touch. “gonna fuck you so good.” you lay back on the bed, opening your legs for eddie. “then fuck me.” he smirks at your comment, but decides you’ve earned it. he pumps his cock a few times before lining it up at your entrance. “i need you eddie.” he kisses your neck, biting your skin. he slowly inserts himself, ensuring he wasn’t hurting you too bad. he slowly pushes in and out, he always waited for your approval. he wanted to make sure you were having a good experience too.

you let out a small whine, his cock was deep inside of you, that mixed with his hands gripping your hips, was sending you into blissful peace. “god your pussy is perfect.” he hides his face into the crevice of your neck. he reached a hand down, playing with your bundle of nerves. “love when you take my cock.” he’s going menacingly slow now, irritation taking over. “eddie faster.” he chuckles, “no please?” he lifted an eyebrow at you, removing his hand from your clit. “eddie. please, please fuck me.” he nods, his hands gripping your hips. he slams his cock further into you, a relentless fast pace following your demands.

you stare directly at eddie, watching his face contort into pleasure, his mouth open slightly, his curls falling in front of his eyes. you reach forward to move his hair to the side, immediately latching your lips onto his.

he swiftly pulls out, “get on your hands and knees for me?” you smile, “anything.” you switch into the different position, your ass arched perfectly in front of him. he lines himself up with you again; eager to continue fucking you. “fuck you’re gonna be the death of me.” he slaps your ass, squeezing it. “could fuck you like this everyday.” he pushes you down, now face to face with the mattress. he was incredibly turned on, the only thing on his mind was filling you with his cum. “eddie fuck you’re cock is so big.” his dick continued to hit that spot inside of you, his hands grabbing everything they could; your hips, thighs, ass, he couldn’t get enough of you. you reach down to circle your clit, small moan falls from your lips. “we’re alone baby.” you look back at him, “i know.” he smirks, “it doesn’t sound like you know. let me hear your moans.” he continues to drill into you, you stop muffling your moans and started to let go. letting the pleasure engulf you, “i know i make you feel good. no one else can fuck you like this, can they?” he questions, you shake your head, “no ed’s only you-.” you arch your back again; the angle allowing eddie to burry himself further into you. “fuck you make me feel so good eds.”

“want you to cum for me.” your eyes are shut now; the pleasure filling your stomach with butterflies, “be a good girl, cum around my cock.” his words only get you there faster. “gonna cum, please let me cum.” your hand dropped and he quickly used his fingers to replace the friction you had previously lost. “that’s it.” your body shakes as your orgasm washes over you. “gonna cum inside your pussy.” you moan at his words, and how eagerly he was using your sloppy hole. “such a slut. you want me to fill you with my cum? yeah?” you nod, worn out. “yes please.” he needs more, “beg for it.” you tighten around him, “give me your cum eds, i want you to cum.” you continue to babble, “fill me up please.” he moans, his cock twitching. “awh fuck yes.” his pace slows down as his high approached, his seed leaking out of you. “god that was perfect.” your eyes are sleepy; “eddie you’re really good at sex.” he laughs, “baby, when you’re pussy feels that perfect i’m obligated to work harder.” you bite your clip at his confession, “i gotta work to be able to keep your pussy, right?” you grin, “yeah, you’re right.” he smiles brightly, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

he leads you to the bathroom. while you use the toilet he wets a washcloth with warm water. he gently cleans you up. he places a kiss on your forehead, then one on your lips. he grabs you a new pair of underwear. he helps you slide them on. “you’re all i’ll ever need baby.” his words comfort you, and you follow him back to his bed. “i only want you.” he kisses you’re forehead again, “get some rest baby, i know your sleepy.” you look up at him, “very sleepy. goodnight eds.” you cuddle into him, you breathing slow. “i love you.” you softly mutter. he rubs your back, “i love you.”

[multimilfs]

Agnes O'Connor x Fem!Reader: Beginning & End

Summary: Taking a late drive to get your mind off a few things, you get more than you bargained for from a not-so-routine traffic stop.

AO3

A/N: Wasn't sure how to tag this since Agnes is technically an Agatha... variant? persona? Also I didn't tag the Agatha taglist since this isn't technically Agatha? tricky tricky... This is basically just pure smut with a sprinkle of plot.. enjoy xoxo (also let me know if you want more of Agnes?)

Words: 6.2k

Included: Established relationship, Jealousy, Smut; choking, spitting, bdsm, possession, semi-public sex, car sex, fingering, cunnilingus, daddy kink, roleplaying, power dynamics, dom/sub, teasing, begging

Tag List: @escapetodreamworld @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @multifandomfix

You sigh as you lean into the leather seat. The music is loud enough to hurt, but you don’t turn the volume down, glad of the noise even if you don’t feel like singing along. Trees fly by outside the window as you drive. 

A sign passes in a flash but you catch the number; 45. Your speedometer reads 55. 

Making sure you’re alone on the road, you push it to 57 just for kicks. Even as the dark scenes on either side pass in a blur, the road ahead is clear. The moon hangs low and bright above, reflecting off the filled-in parts of the pavement. 

The song changes and you sigh again upon hearing the familiar tune. It only reminds you of your wife; who should be home and in bed with you, but ended up on night-shift instead after hassling a suspect a bit too hard, canceling your planned evening. 

Which leads you to driving the backroads between Westview and Eastview, hoping the journey will tire you out enough that you can sleep. Instead it lands you in the position of blowing past a hidden cop. 

Just your luck. 

You groan as you turn the music down and pull off the road into a flat area of grass. With the lights, you can’t tell if it's a Westview or Eastview officer at first. You have pretty good chances of getting off with a warning if it's one of Agnes’ coworkers. 

But it’s not one of the regular officers. It’s the Chief’s car. You hit your head against the steering wheel. He’s been riding Agnes’ ass for months and will likely give you a hefty ticket just to spite her. 

While you’re hitting your head against the wheel, there’s a knock on your window. You roll it down without looking, “Look, Chief, I know the deal. You can just write me a ticket and I’ll pay it tomorrow.” 

“Oh, will you now?” 

You pause. 

Looking up in disbelief, “Agnes?” 

“That’s Detective O’Connor to you.” Her face doesn’t change from the stern facade, “You were driving pretty recklessly back there. Have you been drinking tonight, ma’am?” 

Subtly as you can manage, you check your side mirror to see if anyone else sits in the police cruiser. It wouldn’t be unlike the Chief to put Agnes through some insane test. No shadows lurk in the other car. 

You drag your eyes back to Agnes. She’s waiting, still just as stoic, but you see the mischief in her eyes. Well, if she wants to play, why not up the stakes?

Tilting your head and smiling, “Of course not, detective. I’ve been a good girl.” 

A split-second pause tells you she wasn’t expecting that. She licks her lips before the act slips back into place. She scoffs. 

“That’s what they all say. Wait here.” Her hand pats the open window before she’s heading back toward the cruiser. 

You watch her walk away in the side mirror with a grin. Her confident gait stirs something in you, always has. 

For a split second you consider throwing the car in drive and peeling out of here. You’re curious to see what Agnes would do. You hope she’d chase you all the way home; that way when you get there you could finally have a taste of what tonight was meant to be. 

You want Agnes painfully. Between work deadlines on your end and long hours on hers, you’ve been too tired to do more than cuddle, or some heavy kissing on a better day. You miss the connection that comes from baring yourselves to one another. And the orgasms, too, of course. 

Agnes is back at your window, breathalyzer in hand. You make a split second decision. 

“Please, detective, I can’t afford another ticket, and my wife will be so mad.” You plead, using that innocent, wide-eyed expression you know turns her on, “Is there anything I can do to… pay it off, per se?” 

To her credit, she doesn’t crack this time, “Are you soliciting an officer of the law, ma’am?” 

“No, of course not! Unless that’s what you want.” 

“Step out of the car.” 

The commanding note in her voice goes straight between your thighs. You open the door and step out, watching her brows raise at only the long nightgown you’re wearing. There’s a chill in the air that makes you shiver. Her eyes are drawn to your chest before she shakes away whatever is going through her mind. 

While you’re enjoying the game, you do hope she’ll let you get back in the car soon. The cold is unmanageable without more substantial clothing. 

Agnes holds up the breathalyzer, “Open your mouth.” 

You do so without thinking. A blush races up your face. Agnes can’t help but smirk. 

It’s not the breathalyzer that finds itself between your lips, but two fingers that settle on your tongue and press. You jolt at the pressure. Tears come to your eyes as you gag, but the weight of her fingers doesn’t ebb. You fight against your gag reflex to curl your tongue around the digits. 

Closing your lips around them, you swirl your tongue like one would around a piece of candy. Even through blurred vision you can see how Agnes’ eyes darken. She leans forward, staring at your lips. 

Her fingers move deeper, pressing harder, fucking your throat. You swallow around them. 

You find your mouth and throat empty as Agnes pulls out. Her hand grabs your face before you can close your mouth and holds it open, fingers wet against your cheek. She grins meanly. 

“Stick out your tongue.” 

The second you do, Agnes spits in your mouth. You whimper. It’s humiliating and you feel yourself clench around nothing. You leave your tongue in the position she demanded, obedient as ever. 

Agnes laughs, “Swallow.” 

Humiliation, in combination with your startling need for her touch, forces the tears to spill over and down your cheeks. The sight of them seems to please her. She’s always loved seeing you thoroughly debased; loves knowing only she can break you down like this. 

Partners in the past did try. Yet they would hesitate, hold back, believing they knew the limits of your desire instead of trusting you. A few would panic when they saw tears in your eyes and pull out of the scene completely. You often found yourself pretending; toning down your desires to ‘acceptable’ levels and leaving yourself unsatisfied to avoid that worried look in your partner’s eyes. 

But you’ve never had to pretend with Agnes. From that first time, she went as far as she wanted, knowing that you were an adult capable of safe-wording if it was too much; it wasn’t. You had been dripping and needy the entire time. You had cried while she sat back and watched you polish her boots with your tongue, and had nearly come undone from the act alone. It was everything you craved—Agnes was everything you craved; trusting, dominating, cruel when it suited, and the most loving partner you’ve ever known. 

You had vowed then and there that you weren’t letting her get away. And how lucky for you that she put a ring on your finger; the ring that is so much more than a symbol of love; but a brand, too, just as you desire. 

“I wonder what your wife would think of you offering yourself up to me,” Agnes muses, “but you’re so eager for it, I can’t help but wonder if she’s not satisfying you properly.” 

“Only you can satisfy me, detective.” You flutter your lashes. 

That draws a real laugh from her. Something inside you preens. You lean forward into Agnes’ space, angling your head for a kiss, but she pulls back. 

“Be that as it may, soliciting an officer is a crime, as is reckless driving.” Her hands reach for her belt, where her handcuffs rest in one of the holsters, “I’m going to have to take you in.” 

Though the idea of being cuffed and fucked however she pleases excites you, you’re not entirely pleased with how your original plan was ruined. Agnes knew where the line was during interrogations and she crossed it. Knowingly. It’s safe to say you’re a little pissed she acted out. 

A mean-spirited voice in your head considers pushing Agnes away entirely, leaving her wet and turned on for the rest of the night shift while you go home and find solace in your favorite toy. The rational part of you knows that no toy can replace your wife, and it’s her you want. You’re just not going to make it easy for her. 

You fall to your knees before she can work the cuffs off her belt. She jolts at the unexpected change. You slam against the ground pretty hard and wince, but don’t dare stop. 

Your hands find her belt buckle. Deftly, you start to undo it, “Please, I can make you feel good. I’ll do anything.” 

Agnes raises her brows. She doesn’t stop you from undoing her belt or slowly lowering the zipper of her pants. There’s a tenseness in her jaw as she thinks over the request. Intent on sealing the deal, you move your hands from the front of her pants; instead leaning forward to place a kiss where they’d just been. 

Looking up through your lashes, you beg, “Please.” 

“Well, since you’re so eager for it.” 

Ignoring the screaming in your knees, you shoot to your feet, capturing Agnes’ lips in a hard kiss. You attack with lips and teeth and tongue. At the same time, you slip your hand inside her pants and past the waistband of her panties. 

She groans against your lips when your fingers play in her wetness. Your fingers ghost over her clit and you grin into the kiss. Two hands settle on your hips and shove, your back hitting the side of your car; it hurts for a moment before you’re once again lost in the feel of your wife, how she’s using her position to grind against your hand, the obscene noises leaving her throat.

Your clit throbs with every roll of her hips. It’s intoxicating that she’s just taking what she wants, using you as a toy to achieve her own pleasure. But the desire between your own legs reminds you of the end goal. 

Agnes’ hips pick up speed, her usual low groans evolving into panting, high-pitched whimpers. She’s so close. You consider letting her have what she wants. 

Moments before she can fall over the edge you pull your hand from her pants. Hands settling on her chest, you shove her back. She jolts and stumbles. Her fucked-out expression from seconds earlier shifts to confusion, then anger. 

“What the fuck?” Agnes snarls. 

“You’ve been bad, detective.” Still leaning against the car, you cross your arms over your chest, “Or should I say Daddy.” 

Agnes stands straighter. There’s steel in her spine now, jaw taught as darkness comes over her expression. Amusement alights inside your chest. 

Her hands begin to unravel the belt from the loops of her pants, “I’m going to paint your backside blue.” 

“I don’t think so.” Your voice is hard. “You see, I had a lovely evening planned for us. Dinner, a movie, clean sheets for us to spend all night ruining. And we didn’t get to enjoy any of it because someone couldn’t control her temper. So you, daddy, are going to fuck me until I decide I’m ready to forgive you.” 

“It’s cute that you think you’re in control, baby.” 

Agnes steps into your space, belt in her hands. You stop her with a hand on her chest before she can get close enough to do anything. 

“I am in control.” 

“Those with the upper hand don’t usually have to state the fact.” 

You tilt your head, “If you don’t give me what I want, you’re not going to touch me for weeks. I’ll fuck myself and all you’ll be able to do is watch. And I’ll stuff all the pairs of panties I ruin into your bag, your pockets… everywhere you go, you’ll be reminded of just what you’re missing.” 

The smug expression slowly slips from her face. She tries to push forward again, but you’re unyielding; clenching your fist in the fabric of her shirt until she feels the subtle bite of your nails. There’s fury and a small trace of fear in her eyes. 

It’s rare that you have the upper hand. Usually Agnes is twelve steps ahead of everyone—you included. But this time she miscalculated, and she’s going to pay for it. 

“Your choice, daddy.”

She scoffs. Shaking her head, a few pieces of her hair free themselves from her low ponytail. They lay in and over her face before she blows them out of the way carelessly. She hasn’t been taking care of it, you can tell; and briefly, you consider if you can get away with commandeering her into taking better care of herself. 

You likely shouldn’t push your luck. Agnes is going to punish you enough for this stunt, you’re sure. 

The belt is tossed onto the ground a few feet away in a silent show of surrender. Her eyes are dark, churning with a mixture of fury and arousal. A brief moment passes where you wonder if you’re taking this a bit too far, but you shove it down; Agnes is an adult just as you are and will tell you if you cross any hard lines. 

“Is the heat on in the cruiser?” You ask. 

She pauses, taken-aback, “Yeah, of course.” 

“Good. You’re going to fuck me in it later. But first—” 

You open the back door of your own car as wide as it can go, just so you can perch on the seat with your feet still outside. With a smile, you open your legs wide. You hadn’t considered this outcome when you left the house for your drive, so your panties are relatively plain, but it doesn’t matter since they’re soaked through. 

Agnes takes a step forward and you hold up a finger. She pauses. You point at the ground. 

Her face goes red, “Not fucking likely.” 

And then she’s on you. She’s holding herself up with one hand on the seat, the other dragging your face to hers. Her body rests perfectly between your legs. With a low moan, you roll your hips against her front. 

Her grip on your face is painful. Thank god her nails are clipped short. 

Agnes pulls away from your mouth to bite and suck at your throat. You throw your head back, still grinding up against her, moaning with abandon. The friction is nice but it isn’t what you wanted. 

“I want you to eat me out.” You force out. 

“I don’t care what you want.” Agnes growls. 

“Oh? Well, I guess I should be prepared to handle my own orgasms for a while, then.” 

As you say that, you stop grinding, and lay fully against the seat, one of your arms snaking its way down your front and between your thighs. You’ve only circled a finger around your clit twice before her hand catches your wrist in a punishing grip. 

“Try it and I’ll tie you to the bed everyday when I go to work.” 

“I made my terms abundantly clear.” 

“You know what you forgot though, brat?” Agnes taunts, lips right next to your ear, “You’re too greedy to settle for your hand or your little toys. It’s only a matter of time before you get bored and come crawling back to me.” 

“Maybe I’ll just crawl to someone else. Agent Vidal has been hanging around.” 

A hand closes around your throat and you whine. She squeezes, your vision going fuzzy around the edges. You roll your hips. 

“I’ll lock you in the house if you even think about it.” Her voice is hard, promising, “You’re mine, baby.” 

“Prove it.” 

That’s the wrong thing to say. 

Agnes pulls back completely. Her hands leave you, the pressure of her body is gone. You look up and she’s standing just far enough away that you can’t touch her. You growl. 

The look on her face is one you’ve seen a dozen times; the very same one she wears when you’re about to endure something you don’t like. But you vow not to let her have the upper hand. Not this time. This time, you’re going to make her bend. 

“I’ll see you in the morning.” She says. 

The words are like a bucket of cold water over your head. You don’t spend long dwelling on the threat, there’s no time. 

Agnes is halfway back to the police cruiser when you worm your hand into your panties and bury two fingers inside without preamble. Despite being the source of your own pleasure, you jolt, back bowing off the seat. The moan that leaves your lips is exaggerated; pornographic. 

“Oh, yes!” 

You hear her footsteps come to a stop. You don’t dare open your eyes, not yet. The pleasure you’re experiencing is real, even if it is half of what it could be with Agnes’ help, but you have to keep up the act—have to make her jealous of your own fingers. 

Though she hates to admit it, Agnes is jealous in all aspects of life. There’s a bit of healthy competitiveness worked in there that you can admire. Yet some days… some days she comes home fighting mad, hair a mess and muscles clenched tight as she recounts the events that made her that way. And lately they’ve all had the same person involved—

Agent Rio Vidal. 

A loaner agent from the FBI, here to figure out some of the more poignant details of a murder on the Westview-Eastview county line. She’s confident and cutting and painfully attractive. Somehow, she knows how to push every single one of Agnes’ buttons, in work and play. 

You’ve only met her twice and each time Agnes was an animal afterward. The appreciative glances and suggestive words made you blush—and though you won’t admit it, turned you on a good bit—while Agnes could barely hold herself back from attacking the woman. So possessive. So jealous. 

You can use that. 

The door on the other car hasn’t opened and you know she’s watching with rapt attention. You put on a good show, rolling your hips into your one hand while pinching at your chest with the other. You could get off on her watching. 

Another exaggerated, high-pitched moan, “Oh, Agent Vidal!” 

Though the woman is attractive, you can’t imagine anyone but your wife. Agnes doesn’t need to know that. 

Strong hands grab your calves and pull you half-way out of the car. You squeak, eyes snapping open. Agnes looms above you and oh fuck you’re in trouble. 

“You little bitch.” She snarls, hand coming to wrap around your throat.

You try to moan but she doesn’t give you that much air. Another deft hand rips your own from your panties, even going so far as to rip the fabric off completely. There’s the ghost of her fingers above your center. You roll your hips. 

The sensation of loss and blurry edges is usually a huge turn-on; maybe it’s the intense change from oxygen to no oxygen, but you’re struggling more than normal. You tap her wrist three times. 

Agnes pulls away completely. Her hand is off your neck, the other gone from between your thighs. You take in large lungfuls of air and feel your heart-rate slow just a little. A little whine works its way from your throat, though it’s mainly a result of the throbbing between your legs that’s still driving you crazy. 

Your wife’s hands hover over you, eyes concerned, “Honey?” 

“I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me.” You assure, sitting up and kissing one of her palms, “The quick change just… startled me. I’m okay.” 

“Should I… Do you need me to take you home?” 

“Oh no, Agnes O’Connor, you’re going to finish what you started.” Spreading your legs offers an obscene picture of just how soaked you are, made even more tantalizing by the ripped panties clinging to your thigh, “Unless you want me to find someone else who can finish the job.” 

It’s like flipping a switch. 

Overwhelming is a word that could be used to describe Agnes in bed—smothering, even. She has a way of overtaking every single one of your senses at once. Your skin is on fire with her touch, with the faint strands of hair tickling your face. The scent of burnt break-room coffee clings to her jacket. You even taste it when her tongue invades your mouth, moaning obscenely against your lips. 

You like being smothered, though. You crave it; aching for anything that will let you turn your mind off and just feel. 

Agnes pulls back. Her breath is hot against your lips, “You’re such a brat.” 

“Only for you, daddy.” You murmur. 

A shudder passes through her at the name. Her grip tightens on you, near bruising. You moan. 

“Where do you want me?” 

“With your mouth between my legs.” 

“Fingers?” 

“Yes, please.” 

Agnes chuckles, “So you do remember your manners. Interesting.” 

You roll your eyes. To your luck, Agnes doesn’t see—if she had, you would have been punished accordingly. Though you realize things are a bit off-balance with your threat hanging in the air; any other time, Agnes would have you bent anyway she pleased, taking all she wanted until you couldn’t handle any more. 

Being in control is… odd. Not unwanted, but odd. You have to be more aware of yourself, confident in every command that leaves your lips. You’re glad that this is Agnes’ preferred role even if you’re enjoying the change. 

Lips kiss the inside of your thighs and you shudder. When she sinks her teeth in, you squeal, jolting at the change. Your hand falls to the top of her head. 

“Not what I meant!” 

“Oh, then what did you mean?” She taunts. 

“If you don’t make me come right now so help me—” 

The heat of her mouth on you is enough to shut you up. Her tongue drags up your slit with agonizing slowness. She teases at your clit for only a moment before repeating the slow drag, making you whine, pressing her head closer. 

You feel the rumble of her laughter and god help you the vibrations feel amazing. Yet when you try to move your hips for more, her hands keep them pressed firmly to the leather seat. 

Another threat sits on your lips that never comes to pass. With the last slow lick, she fastens her lips around your clit and sucks, hard. It’s painful and wonderful and your back bows off the seat, hands scrambling for anything to clench into. The weeks have been long and you know you’re not going to last. 

“I’m going to come.” You force out. 

She laughs again. That, in combination with her attention focused solely on your clit, sends you straight over the edge. You feel wild, unhinged as your hips move without any guidance from your mind, chasing the waves of pleasure that make your every muscle go taut. 

But when the pleasure subsides, Agnes doesn’t stop. She pushes two fingers inside and curls them in that way you like so much. You clench around them, though you ache, not ready for more so soon. 

“I can’t—Please, I can’t.” You beg. 

“One more, baby. You can give me that, can’t you?” 

“I can’t.” 

“You can.” 

And you do. Her fingers know every inch of you well, her mind cataloging every spot that makes you whine, every move she performs that sends you over the edge. She calls on that knowledge as the pads of her fingers rub against that spot inside you with abandon until you can’t breathe, shrieking and moaning loud enough that you worry someone will hear you miles away. 

The pleasure tenses your body so tight that you worry the muscles will never relax again. It hurts in that delicious way only Agnes can bring out. 

When you do relax, she’s licking gently at you, collecting the flavor on her tongue and savoring it like a fine wine. You twitch. The hand you have in her hair pushes as you attempt to slide further onto the seat, away from her mouth. 

“No more,” you beg, “please.” 

“Am I forgiven?” 

You laugh, breathless, “Not quite.” 

You tug her up wordlessly until the weight of her is draped over you. It’s nice, comforting to feel her close. Her warmth helps fight against the cold biting at your lower half. Sighing, you bury your face in her neck, your hand coming up to lazily play with her hair. 

Agnes accepts the touch. She traces little patterns on your hip over the nightgown, soft and quiet. You can still see the red and blue lights from your hiding place in her neck. 

“Why do you have the Chief’s car?” You ask. 

She scoffs, “Mine broke down three hours into the shift. Had to call the Chief and walk all the way to his house to get the cruiser.” 

“What? Agnes, why didn’t you call me?” 

“I wanted you to enjoy your night in, honey.” 

You think about arguing, but you recognize the exhaustion in her voice, and decide not to push it—for now. It’s an argument you can save for later. 

“So what was it, the battery? I thought we just replaced it.” 

“I think the old girl might just be done for. We’ve had her for a while.” Agnes shrugs. 

“But that’s… we brought Nicky home in that car.” You whisper, chest aching. 

Another piece of your life—connected to your baby—that you won’t get to keep. Agnes tenses, her breathing growing ragged, and you feel terrible; she’s likely already thought about this the whole shift, spent all these hours remembering it alone. That’s why she didn’t call you—she didn’t want to drag you bag into the deep end of the pain, too. 

You press a gentle kiss to the side of her neck. No wonder she took the first opportunity to play with you, she needed the distraction. 

“I’m sorry, my love.” You murmur.

“Not your fault, honey. These things happen.” 

She sounds less and less like herself with every moment. You don’t want to shove the grief aside—the grief counselor said that only made things worse—but this isn’t how you want to handle it; Agnes draped over your freshly-debauched form in the backseat of your car. 

This is a conversation, a breakdown for home, where the two of you can take all the time you need to soak in the new loss. You need to distract her away from this. 

“Will the force offer you one of their vehicles?” 

“Yeah. They should.” 

“Where did you break down?” 

“By the bridge on Old Forest.” 

Perfect. 

“Let’s give her a proper sendoff, then.” 

Agnes pauses. The look she gives you is questioning, as if not quite believing your suggestion, but she knows better—knows you’re serious about this. 

“Alright.” 

Which is how you find yourself halfway across town, on a back road with no streetlights, pulling off perilously close to a ditch. Agnes' car is unmistakable even in the dark—from the extra mirror on the hood reflecting the moonlight to the dent in the back bumper she never got fixed. You feel suddenly overwhelmed as you trace your fingers over the body. 

So many memories, good and bad. Your late-night trysts in the back seat. Bringing Nicky home. The back seat full of his stinky sports gear. Agnes’ old case files winding up on the floor. 

Agnes comes up and drapes her jacket over your shoulders. The warmth of her body has seeped into the cloth, now blocking out the chill in the air, “This might not be the best idea.” 

You raise a brow, “Cold feet, detective?” 

“Mine are nice and warm. Yours, however...” 

She looks up and down your scantily-clad form with a worried furrow of her brow. It’s sweet, but not needed. 

“I don’t think our plans will keep me anything but warm.” You smile, leaning back against the car while pulling Agnes close, until every inch of her is pressed against your front. Her hands settle on your hips as she kisses you with a softness belaying the vulnerability she still feels, “Unlock the car.” 

“Honey—” 

“Agnes, would you rather I went home?” You murmur. 

“Of course not.” 

“Then what do you want?”

“Beats me.”

“You know what I want?” 

Using your leverage against the vehicle, you draw one of your feet up the inside of Agnes’ leg, careful to press every part of yourself against her. Her warmth radiates through her flannel and jeans and you smile. 

She raises a brow, “I’m sure I can guess.” 

“I want you to bend me over in the backseat of this car like you did that first time. You remember, don’t you? How pissed you were that I’d been teasing you for five dates.” You laugh at the memory, “You couldn’t even make it out of the restaurant parking lot.” 

“You were so loud we almost got caught.” She recalls, voice low, gravelly. 

“There’s no one around to catch us now.” 

Agnes wraps one of her arms around your waist and uses it to tug you sideways, making quick work of unlocking the car. With the hand not on your waist, she opens the back door, and eases her jacket from your shoulders. She lays it out on the cold seats with the warm side up. 

Not for the first time, you’re moved by her consideration of your comfort. It would be so easy for a partner to disregard the little things if it meant getting to the end goal faster; but not Agnes. You reward her with a long, slow kiss. 

When she pulls away, there’s a fond little smile on her lips. She pats your hip, “On your hands and knees.” 

You obey without question. Crawling onto the backseat, you’re reminded of just how confined the space of a car is. You have to keep your head bowed so as not to hit your head on the roof. It’ll be worth your while, but you know the two of you will be feeling the adverse effects of this choice for days. 

Agnes follows and shuts the door behind her. She works her way into the backseat until not a bit of space exists between the two of you. Every inch of her front is pressed against you, draped over you like a warm blanket. You push your backside back into her crotch, teasing. 

“I should’ve sent you home to get your purple.” You say. 

“Be good and you can have my cock later.” 

Warm fingertips trail up the back of your thigh until they snake under the hem of your nightgown. The soothing heat of her touch is lovely compared to the bite of the cold air. You lean into it. 

“Yes, daddy.” You sigh. 

Her body pulls away from yours and you turn, confused. A sharp slap to your backside makes your breath stutter, your core clenching around nothing. Your toes curl. 

“Interesting that you want to be good now, when you’ve been testing me all night.” 

“What can I say? I’m motivated by rewards.” 

You’re satisfied that Agnes seems to be in the moment, rather than locked up in the memories in her head. Intent on keeping it that way, you lean back into her, arching so you can match her entirely. Her muscles go taut and relax and being able to feel it makes you ravenous. 

Two fingers push your ripped panties aside and begin to drag up your slit, teasing. It should be noted that you are trying to be good for her, offering the control she takes to so well. You like to think she can tell, too. 

When she slips her fingers inside you without torturing you further, you’re sure she knows. 

You push back, desperate. You want more of her and bad. It’s as if the orgasms she gave you less than an hour ago never happened. Every muscle in your body quakes with the knowledge of what only Agnes can give you. And you want it so deeply that it threatens to bring tears to your eyes. 

“Please.” You beg without prompting, “Please, more.” 

A split-second hesitation belays her surprise, but she does slip another finger inside, stretching you even wider. You can’t stop how you move, nor the noises that come out of your mouth. You feel cursed with hunger only she can sate. 

It’s this car, this backseat, and the memories here that are driving you so mad. It’s the life attached to it that you never thought you would get; a family, a future, a wife who loves you despite all the ugly parts others had run from. It’s the years you haven’t had to live out alone, the pain you’ve shared. It’s the fact that this act was once a beginning and now it’s an end. 

Her lips press against the back of your neck, impossibly gentle, so unlike the role she’s meant to be playing. Something inside you breaks. 

“Agnes—“ You choke out. 

“It’s okay, honey.” 

You let go. 

You let go from holding yourself back—fucking yourself on her fingers until you shriek with pleasure. You let go of the ball of emotions in your chest, of hunger and pleasure and guilt. You let go of the pain and let tears spill over onto your cheeks. 

It’s not the best orgasm you’ve ever had, but it doesn’t need to be. It’s a goodbye to this piece of your life. It’s an end. And it hurts just the same as it feels good to embrace the potential of something new. 

Agnes holds you, steady as ever. You feel the dampness of her own tears on your neck. 

You turn and lay on your back, welcoming the weight of her. You use your thumbs to wipe away the tears coming from her beautiful blue eyes. 

“Am I forgiven, or do we have to go another round?” She asks.

You grin, not taking your hands from her face, “You’re forgiven, my love.” 

“Thank god.” 

Agnes drops her head until it rests on your chest. You laugh, extracting the hair tie so you can run your fingers through the length of it. Her arms wrap around you as much as they can. 

She presses a kiss to your chest, over where your heart is. You gently work through a knot in between your fingers. The windows are clouded with perspiration. Beads of water reflect what little moonlight peeks through the trees. Moonlight or no, you know every dip and curve of your wife’s form, and could identify every part of her without sight. 

The stale coffee smell has worn off, replaced by the faint undertones of the cologne she wears each morning. It’s deep and musky and comforting. 

Maybe it’s the weight of her head on your chest in combination with the memories that makes you speak, “Have you ever thought about us trying again?” 

She tilts her head so she can look up into your eyes without lifting from her resting place. Her brows are furrowed.

“Trying again?”  

The weight of her beautiful eyes on you almost makes you change the subject. These conversations are so much easier without that layer of intimacy. But you’ve started something and you’ll be damned if you don’t finish it. 

“To be parents.” You whisper. 

“I’m a little past due on that, baby.” Her smile is self-deprecating. 

“I’m not.” 

“You never wanted to carry. I remember that much.” 

“That was then.” You continue smoothing through her hair, “Now… If you want to try again, I’ll do it. I want to do it.” 

You can’t decipher the look in her eyes. She doesn’t pull away, but she’s tense. 

“We don’t need to decide right now. We have time.” 

She nods, “Alright.” 

“You’ll still be daddy, even if you aren’t my baby-daddy.” 

“That was terrible.” 

It doesn’t stop her from grinning, nor does it stop you from laughing. Something in the tension eases. You can’t lean down and kiss her like this, so you press a kiss to the pads of your fingers, and press them to her lips. She nips at them playfully. 

The quiet is nice, but you can feel the cold settling into your bones. You need to be back in a heated car before you get sick. 

“When is your shift over?” 

“In a few hours.” 

You nod, figuring out what time she’ll come home and how it fits into your schedule, “I have nothing after work if you want me to make good on those orgasms I owe you.” 

“I look forward to it.” 

It takes some time, but you and Agnes manage to untangle yourselves and worm your way out of the back seat. She sits, keeping you wrapped in her coat, until the inside of your own car is nice and warm. That earns her a few lingering kisses. 

She trails you on the drive home before speeding off to do god knows what during the last few hours of her shift. And when you fall asleep—already feeling sore—an eagerness sets in your chest of what awaits. With an end, a new beginning. 

[p0orbaby]

It’s Called Free Fall

summary: therapy makes you realise a lot of things

warnings: none

a/n: there’s not actually any alexia in this, but she is mentioned

word count: 2.7k

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The therapist’s office feels like it’s been curated for someone far more refined than you—someone who actually takes their therapy seriously, rather than as an ironic lifestyle choice. The walls are a pale, flat grey that veers perilously close to lifeless, and there’s this overwhelming sense of emptiness, like everything here exists for display rather than use. The chairs, two narrow-backed leather things angled just slightly towards each other, appear less like furniture and more like sculptures. You imagine some recent graduate from a New York art school positioned them just so, meticulously arranging each one to make sure it induced the precise mix of discomfort and luxury.

The table between you and Dr. Vargas is another matter entirely—a sleek slab of polished mahogany, thick enough that you could lean your entire weight on it without even a squeak of protest. Its surface is bare except for a single leather-bound notebook, a fountain pen and a ceramic dish, all aligned to a degree that feels almost militaristic. There’s not a single loose thread in the rug, not a fingerprint on the glass of the one window facing out onto a garden view that’s suspiciously verdant for the middle of winter.

Even the fern, perched in the corner like it’s waiting for its close-up, seems too green, too lush. It’s ridiculous, but it’s all part of the aesthetic, this carefully curated minimalism, the kind of cultivated restraint that says, “We don’t need embellishments. We’re here for the truth.” You’re here, supposedly, for honesty and revelation. But to you, it all feels a bit too staged, like a hotel that boasts a “homely charm” but is actually cold and sterile beneath the surface. You suspect Dr. Vargas might even mist the plant herself in some sacred ritual of maintenance, a sort of last-minute grounding exercise to fill the silence between clients.

You settle back in the chair, draping one leg over the other, and make a mental note to mention it next time you’re in some magazine interview. “Austere,” you’d say, “but in a chic way. I once caught my therapist hand-polishing the leaves of a houseplant.” You let yourself savour the image for a moment, glancing at the fern, which seems to return your gaze with silent judgement.

Dr. Vargas has her pen poised in that infuriatingly neutral way, a half-smile that somehow manages to be both welcoming and utterly unreadable. She’s mastered this look; the expression that says, I’m here for you while also suggesting she’s already a step ahead, already written your entire profile out in her head, neatly categorised into sub-headings like “Avoidant Tendencies” and “Control Issues.”

You begin with a sigh, throwing a glance at the ceiling in mock contemplation. “I’ve been thinking about another place. A chalet, maybe. Something in the mountains this time.” You pause, letting the idea sit, feigning like it’s just occurred to you. “Somewhere remote, where people can’t just… get to me”

You’re fully aware that she sees right through it. This isn’t her first rodeo; you’re sure she’s dealt with hundreds like you before, masters of diversion who fill sessions with banalities rather than facing anything real. But Dr. Vargas, in all her maddening professionalism, gives nothing away. She just tilts her head, the soft scratch of her pen against her notebook barely there as she writes something down.

“A place to escape,” she offers back to you in that maddeningly placid tone.

“Yes. Escape,” you echo, knowing full well the word holds no weight here. Escape from what, exactly? You let your leg bounce a little, as if the rhythm might lend some gravity to your words. “And there’s this new project I’m in talks with—A24, actually. They want me to do something… serious. A proper rebrand. Gritty. Artistic.” You drawl out “artistic” with the faintest of smirks, like you’re amused at the thought of it all. A lifetime of playing these games, and you’re practically a pro by now.

Dr. Vargas’s face betrays not a flicker of interest or amusement. She simply nods, that little encouraging tilt of her head again, like she’s waiting for you to get to the real point, the heart of the matter. But you’re not giving in so easily.

“It could be big, you know,” you continue, lifting your chin a fraction. “And I’ve got Alexia, of course.” The name slips out, deliberately nonchalant, though you feel its weight instantly, like it’s left a mark on the air between you.

Dr. Vargas raises her eyebrows, ever so slightly. “Alexia,” she repeats, not quite a question, not quite a statement. Just… acknowledgment, and yet it still feels as if she’s plucked something out of you without you realising. You don’t like it, the way she turns your own words against you.

“Yeah,” you say, shrugging. “She’s… brilliant. On the field, off it. You know, she’s—” You trail off, allowing a smirk to play on your lips. “Not bad to look at, either”

She gives no reaction, doesn’t even break eye contact. You imagine her poker face would rival that of any seasoned card shark. But it’s her silence that presses at you, coaxing out more than you intend to reveal. It’s a trick she’s used before, and yet here you are, willingly falling into it.

“Honestly,” you continue, almost laughing as if sharing some private joke, “you should see her after a match. There’s this… intensity, this rawness. Shirt off, sweat-drenched, eyes still blazing from the game. It’s… invigorating.” You roll the word around like a fine wine, savouring it as you go. “It’s like the universe threw me a bone, just when I was getting bored”

Dr. Vargas finally moves, a slight shift of her head, her mouth curving up in a near-smile. “And yet, you’re here”

Her words drop between you like a carefully placed stone. You scoff, rolling your eyes, but there’s something in her expression—an almost imperceptible softness that somehow feels like an accusation. “Therapy’s a hobby,” you shrug, leaning back, as if the very idea of anything deeper is laughable. “I’m always in therapy, Doc. News flash”

“Yes,” she agrees smoothly, not missing a beat, “but you don’t usually bring her up”

“Come on,” you counter, with a smirk that’s designed to look careless, “I bring her up all the time”

“Not like this”

Her voice is calm, almost gentle, but her gaze sharpens, pinning you in place. You feel a spike of irritation, or maybe it’s something else. You cast a look towards the fern, now faintly silhouetted by the afternoon sun, its shadow long and narrow across the wall, an unasked-for third party in this strange little dance. The absurdity of the whole scene hits you, but before you can fully detach, she’s speaking again.

“You’re talking about her differently. More… openly.” There’s no edge to her tone, no overt judgment, yet it feels like she’s peeled back a layer, glimpsed a part of you you hadn’t meant to reveal.

In the moments that follow, you stub out your cigarette on the pristine ceramic dish Vargas keeps on the table, the one she’s claimed is “not for smoking” but never actually moved after that one session. You’ve taken it as tacit permission, though you know damn well it irritates her—just another way to test the boundaries in a room that prides itself on having none. That’s half the point of these sessions: see how far you can stretch them. How much she’ll let you say, or not say. And you’ve mastered the art of saying absolutely nothing, all while filling the space with empty words.

Dr. Vargas doesn’t speak, doesn’t press, which is almost worse than if she did. There’s just the persistent softness in her eyes, the quiet implication that she understands more than you’d prefer. You remember Alexia’s eyes looking at you like that once, right after you’d tried to make some grand point about the nature of relationships—one of those pseudo-philosophical tangents you like to go on. She’d just looked at you, with a kind of bemused patience that felt a little too genuine, a little too close to knowing you.

You roll your shoulders, shake off the memory. But it clings.

“Alright,” you say, letting the smoke spill out as you form the words. “Maybe I don’t do ‘love’ like everyone else. I’m not here for a candlelit dinner and a mortgage. I’m not,” you add with a quick laugh, “one of those people who turn into some sap over a nice couple’s holiday in Santorini”

Dr. Vargas gives a small nod, an acknowledgement rather than agreement, her expression neutral but open, giving you room to continue.

“But, yes. Fine.” You take another drag, a deliberate pause. “Maybe I… care about her. I care about her. She’s different, alright?”

“Different how?” she asks gently, with an infuriatingly patient tone.

You groan, shifting in your seat. “Come on, don’t make me quantify it. That’s your thing, not mine.” You know you’re stalling, using your usual deflections, but there’s an itch underneath it, a part of you that feels raw just acknowledging that Alexia is, in fact, ‘different.’

You can feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to take the bait you’ve laid out for yourself.

“Fine, you want specifics?” you sigh, feigning annoyance, though you know you’re the one who’s led the conversation here. “She… laughs at my worst jokes. Like, really laughs. Not in a polite way, but genuinely, like she thinks I’m the funniest person alive, even when I’m barely trying. It’s stupid, really, but it gets me”

“And how does that make you feel?” Vargas leans forward, like she’s zeroing in on something significant.

You chuckle, low and dismissive, waving the question off with your cigarette. “How do you think it makes me feel? It’s… fine. Nice. A bit strange, maybe. I’m not used to being seen like that.” You pause, the weight of that admission lingering in the air between you.

She doesn’t react, doesn’t push; she just lets the moment settle, knowing there’s more.

You sigh, smoke curling up around you, as your mind goes back to other little things—the way she has this weird ritual of picking all the green M&Ms out of the bag and tossing them to you, claiming they’re “bad luck.” How she insists on reading the morning news out loud, in that silly, exaggerated announcer voice, just to make you laugh while you pretend to read emails. Or how she makes you tea at exactly the right temperature, handing you the mug with a grin like she’s just given you a priceless gift. These are things that, on the surface, should be forgettable, the kind of mundane moments that fade. But they don’t, do they? Not with her.

Dr. Vargas’s voice interrupts your reverie, soft but insistent. “You’re smiling”

You realise she’s right; you’re smiling without even meaning to, and it’s a small, stupid smile, the kind that feels too open. You try to erase it, but it’s too late. The vulnerability’s already there, a quiet confession written across your face.

You roll your eyes, more at yourself than at her. “Alright, so what? So she’s… alright, she’s fun. She’s got that energy, you know, that lightness. It’s kind of… refreshing”

The words slip out unbidden, and you feel a pang of something resembling regret. Refreshing. A word that implies something else by omission—that most of your life, most people you’ve known, have been exhausting. The irony isn’t lost on you: someone so completely different from your own brand of detached sarcasm, from your carefully cultivated ennui, has managed to slip under the radar and wedge herself into your carefully controlled life.

Dr. Vargas watches, her silence pressing you forward.

“Look, I don’t think about it too much,” you say, trying to inject a casual note into your tone. “I don’t need to psychoanalyse every smile, every inside joke. I’m not here to have my relationship broken down into neat little psych terms”

“Maybe you should think about it,” Vargas says gently. “Maybe that’s why you’re here”

You scoff, but there’s a softness in the sound, a hint of resignation. Because she’s right, isn’t she? You came here because, as much as you don’t want to admit it, this thing with Alexia has started to matter, in a way that’s both terrifying and strangely compelling. You’ve always prided yourself on staying a step removed, on being a spectator in your own life, observing rather than fully engaging. But with her, you’re finding it harder to keep that distance.

“Fine,” you mutter, leaning back, letting your head rest against the chair, staring up at the ceiling as though the answers might be written there. “Maybe she’s… special”

The words feel strange in your mouth, too vulnerable, too open. You don’t say “special” often, especially not in this context. But there it is, a reluctant admission.

“I mean, it’s not like I’m in love with her,” you continue, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “She’s great—don’t get me wrong. She’s amazing in bed. I can’t remember the last time someone made me cum so much. And she’s got this thing about her, you know? Like this fire, this intensity. It’s like when she looks at me, she’s looking right through me. And yeah, I guess that’s… intoxicating. But that’s all it is. Right?”

Dr. Vargas nods, a small, subtle gesture. “Why does that scare you?”

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you watch the smoke dancing away from your cigarette, dissipating into the air, leaving nothing behind but a faint, lingering scent. You think about what it is you’re so afraid of—because there’s something there, something you can’t quite name, a sense that if you let this thing with Alexia continue, it might change you in ways you’re not ready for.

“Because I don’t do… attachment,” you say finally, the words coming out sharper than intended. “I’ve built a life that doesn’t depend on anyone else. And she’s… she’s a complication”

You can feel Vargas watching you, sensing the weight of what you’re not saying, the unspoken truth that this isn’t just about Alexia, that it’s about something deeper, a fear of vulnerability, of losing control. She doesn’t push, though; she just waits, letting the silence do the work for her.

After a long pause, you take a breath, letting your gaze drift to the fern by the window, its leaves glossy and perfect, so meticulously maintained it almost looks fake. You wonder if it’s ever felt the strain of trying to keep everything together, to present a flawless exterior while something more fragile lurks beneath the surface.

“You know,” you say, almost to yourself, “it’s funny. For the longest time, I thought love was just a distraction, a temporary fix for people who couldn’t handle being alone.” You take another drag from your cigarette, exhaling slowly. “But with her, it’s… it’s different. It’s like she makes everything brighter, sharper, like she’s tuned into some frequency I didn’t know existed”

Dr. Vargas doesn’t respond, just nods, letting you continue.

“And the worst part?” You chuckle, a self-deprecating sound. “The worst part is that she’s getting to me. She’s in my head, even when she’s not there. I find myself thinking about her in the middle of the day, wondering what she’s up to, if she’s thinking about me too”

There’s a fragility in the admission, a crack in the armour you’ve built around yourself. And it terrifies you, this sense of letting someone in, of letting them get close enough to matter.

You stub out your cigarette, watching the last curl of smoke dissipate into the air. It feels like a metaphor for something, though you’re not sure what.

Dr. Vargas gives you a small, knowing smile. “Maybe falling in love isn’t as bad as you think it will be,” she says gently.

You shrug, trying to play it off, but there’s a part of you that knows she’s right. Because for all your detachment, all your carefully cultivated distance, there’s something about Alexia that feels like home, like she’s a part of you you didn’t realise was missing.

“Maybe,” you say, the words soft, barely audible.

Love. The word lingers like an uninvited guest. You try to dismiss it, try to laugh it off, but it keeps creeping back in.

[anyseany]

Fantasize - Bangchan

Author's note: I didn't think I could write about it and I would like to, so I sent it in the form of requests to some writers that I consider enough to do such a feat. But here is my version, I hope others do your reading too, this idea deserves many versions.

Voyver! Boyfriend / Chan!idol x Yn! Fem reader 

📍 dumbfication, daddykink, spit, creampie, cum inside, Pet nicknames (baby, princess, love, etc), chan dom, yn sub, without protection, subspace, oral, skrit, High confident Chan. 

"I think your act is beautiful, I wouldn't get this beautiful girl with anyone else." Chan says touching his chin, while you sitting the bed follows him as if he were looking at a Greek god, the middle of his legs tight and wet in the short plaid skirt. And your boyfriend with a serious face in front of the armchair.

"She deserves it, she was a good girl." He says sighing, it wasn't your gift dream, but he would do anything for you, until he gave you on a tray to your favorite idol.

"Oh, did she go?" Chan's fingers hold your chin, and you swallow dryly when you see his arm tense on the black tank top. "Is she always good like that?" He leans over watching his blushed face well, and you seemed nothing less than glazed on his face, panting.

"At first she was rougher, because she had never been in a relationship, but then she managed to relax, and she is more than good." Your boyfriend explains looking carefully at all your movements, he felt invisible, you didn't even blink while looking at the man touching you.

"Ah.. so I'm your second little girl?" He asks caressing your jaw and you nod. "How modest." Chan laughs. "Shall we take off this blouse? Show dad everything, except the skirt, princess." He says serious, releasing his chin, watches you taking piece by piece, leaving only the blue skirt. "So beautiful, you are perfect doll."

Chan's voice makes you tremble a little, he exhaled an aura that completely dominated you, you felt helpless and weak, you just wanted to please him.

The shirt flies from Chan's body, pulling a sigh out of you. "Let's go for the basics, okay? I don't want to scare you." He says tender, changing the tone completely, sitting next to you facing your body, his hand snakes to the middle of your legs, touching your clitoris making you gaspe and hold the strong wrist as support. "Wet.. very wet." He says while hearing the embarrassing noises of his fingers, and his panting breath.

Chan lays down his body opening his legs more, giving a great view to his boyfriend, who was moving in the armchair uncomfortable. "Your breasts are so beautiful love.. they fit perfectly in my mouth."

Chan says before completely gribbing one of your breasts, making you arch your back, and whine loudly. His fingers increase in pace when he feels his stronger lubrication. And when he tries to insert a finger, he moans with his breast in his mouth, thinking about how tight you were.

"Damn, how do you get into it?" Chan says as he gets up, and his boyfriend shrugs, somewhat annoyed.

"I'm just careful, she can handle it." He says and chan sighs, sooting not to agine his cock being so tight that way at that moment.

One, two, three fingers were enough to make you roll your eyes, and make chan reach the point of almost insanity, the fast fingers, made a loud noise and his moans accompanied without shame anymore.

"Chan-chan, can I come, p-please!" Chan looks at you surprised by the question, were you so well trained?

"So good for asking, come to daddy love." The simple words make you tremble and close your legs with his hand in the middle, while you ride your high.

Your boyfriend stirs once again, feeling hard and jealous, you never came so strong at first with him.

"Princess? Do I need you to tell me, with protection or not?" Chan bends down to the height of his vitreous eyes, falling in love with his fucked face, caressing the side of his face.

"S-no, daddy, no." Chan cracks his jaw with the answer and nods, holding his face with one hand, and lifting the upper of his body easily, his hands cling to his firm wrist, and he sides the side of the end of the bed, so that his boyfriend has full vision.

"She likes crampie, in case you want to know." Your boyfriend murmurs against his taste, and chan turns to you as if he had seen something rare.

"Does the princess like to feel full?" He says and touches below your stomach, where your uterus would be, and presses lightly, giving you goosebumps. "Do you want my fucking here? Dripping from you?"

It was the end, you rolled your eyes just with that line, and nodded almost desperate. "Yes, Dad, I want to be full"

Chan smiles and moves away to lower his pants, the thick and not at all small cock appeared and made you sigh, would that fit?

"Let's go slowly, baby, I don't want to hurt your princess parts, hm?" He says lying partially on top of your body, watching you nod the speech, your arms surround his neck, and when the thick tip meets the tight entrance, he slowly enters, moaning immediately by the grip, you tilt your head without ever imagining what it would be like to be widened like that.

As much as her boyfriend was not small, he was not like chan, he lifted his body little by little, to have greater control of the slowness, and not to go crazy listening to his sighs and moans.

"Damn, look at this.." he says growling, seeing the cock almost completely inside. "Almost princess, a little more, can you do it? Do you feel good?" Damn, taking care of you at a time like this made you more horny, he moans feeling your grip.

"Yes, you can go, Dad, continue." Look where you connect, you watch the complete junction of your hips, and it was inevitable, the thick tip redding in the mouth of your uterus, the surreal widening and the feeling of being full was enough to make you cum again untouched, squeezing chan that held himself while squeezing your waist strongly to prevent you from moving too much.

"Did you just come with my cock inside?" He asks incredulously, seeing the white circle wrapped around his cock. "Fuck girl." He says feeling even more like fucking you, his state was almost deplorable if it wasn't beautiful. Your boyfriend was discredited watching the whole scene.

Leaning on you again and filling your face with kisses, kissing your neck, breasts and mouth, chan tries to wait for your high to go down a little, and has you returning the caresses after a while.

"You can go, dad." His low phrase makes chan's hips involuntarily move away and meet his again, making both moan.

The beginning of the lunges was romantic and calm, but after chan gets up again, he increases the strength and rhythm, both listen to the bed squeak and swing with the lunges, so overloaded and full, you moaned, while holding your breasts, preventing them from jumping too much.

"Where were you all this time? Dad always looked for a princess like that." Chan talks while still sinking into you, making your situation worse." So beautiful, such a good girl, taking daddy as if it were nothing." He releases your waist and holds your leg tightly, leaving the sample of your finger marks on your skin.

"F-background, p-dad! Ch-filled!" His words were more than random, chan was finally fucking you dumb, it was more than a dream.

"I need you to become a princess." He says stopping completely and leaving you, making you growl, and gives you a nice slap on the thigh, helping you turn around as if it weighed nothing. "You're not going to leave dad without seeing that beautiful ass, are you?" He says as he watches you position yourself on all fours in front of him, sighing with the position he enters again, making you moan loudly while grabbing the sheets. "Shin it.. what a bottom."

Chan begins to lose the pity of his small body, going harder, with brutality, his moans encouraged him and you felt in an irrational subspace.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" You repeated like a sacred mantra, the slap on your ass made you jump weakly forward, your left hand held your skirt like a lever and your right hand went to your neck, pulling your body a perfect bow to meet chan's face.

"You're so fucked princess, so beautiful crying, I think I fell in love with you." He confesses in your ear, making you hold your wrist on his neck, while listening to him carefully "your pussy was born for my cock, we can't separate them, can we?" His murmurs in agreement only increased Chan's ego. "I need you to tell me if you want inside, or not, before I decide." He says taking his hand from his neck to his hair, still supporting you, while stocking you until eternity.

"Inside, inside daddy, inside!" Another slap makes you moan and he pulls you by the neck again,

"Open your mouth, baby." He says and you obey blindly, and moan when you feel the spitting ball go down your throat. "So good, my love." He praises and takes his hand back to your intimacy, using his fingers to help you come. "How about coming to dad? Daddy will have to give all his little children, you will be such a beautiful mom, hm? Do you want princess?"

Her high-pitched moan exceeded the expectations of her boyfriend who was dumbfounded, and soon became incredulous when he saw you squirt, wetting the bed and the skirt you wore.

Still feeling your grip, chan shamelessly turns you without leaving you, and stocks up again in an animalistic way, moaning for whoever wanted to hear. "Such a good girl, such a good princess." And holding his waist firmly, he has his orgasms while throwing his head back, feeling ropes and more ropes coming out of him, as had never happened before, you stirred, feeling hot and full, loving the feeling, completely sensitive and silly, and chan when he opened his eyes, felt even more in love.

"Hm, I think already-" your boyfriend was cut off when chan withdrew from you, with his cock all honeyed and still a little hard, and made a point of turning his legs to him showing all the sperm coming out, gushing from his intimate as if it were yours. The thick fingers quickly punched inside again, making you squirm, sensitive.

"Opedy princess, full as I promised." Chan says and sees you still completely absorbed in her subconscious. "Princess? Talk to me." He says it's when you get up with his help, stare at him in a vitreous way, going down his face and finding the beautiful cock still honeyed. "Princess?" Chan tries to get his attention, but his quick movement in getting on his knees on the bed and bending down to take the member to his mouth, cleaned all the remnants of sperm, making Chan moan somewhat surprised.

"What the fuck.." her boyfriend was going to intervene, but Chan raised his hand stopping him.

"This is called a subconscious state, she hasn't fully returned, it's almost an impulse, and it's dangerous to intervene." Chan says and her boyfriend keeps watching you suck another man's cock with pleasure. "Hey, hey, princess.. I'm fine, thank you." He gently touches your shoulders, making you get up and look as if it were something precious. "Are you okay? If so, wave to me" chan says caressing your face and you nod slowly, blinking slowly. "Great princess, I'm going to take a bath for you, I need you to lie down." Chan says slowly while helping you lie down. "Good girl." He praises and kisses your forehead, your nose, and seals your mouth, seeing you breathe slowly and smile minimally at him, warming your heart.

Her boyfriend had two problems now, one between his legs, and an inferiority syndrome that he doesn't know if he could repair.

[act-nat-ural]

Misunderstandings

@dira333: what about a meet ugly with Daichi or Kita? A meet ugly is about meeting someone in a less than fortunate way but somehow you still fall in love?

You had just finished a long, exhausting work week and wanted to treat yourself to something nice. Hence, a slightly fancy dinner alone. You let out a content sigh, sipping your drink. The ambience of the restaurant was impeccable, the lighting was soft enough for patrons to relax, and the music blended into the soft chatter in the background. You were still waiting for your meal, but the breadsticks in this place made for a good distraction. You hum and break off another piece. Don't mind if I do.

Suddenly, an athletic-looking man sits down across from you. He gives you an apologetic look and says, “I’m so sorry I’m late. Work ran a bit long, and I got here as fast as I could. The hostess said you weren’t waiting long, though.” He continues explaining his tardiness, but—who the hell is this guy!? Your eyes widen at his sudden appearance, almost choking on your precious bite of breadstick. You cover your mouth and start coughing, while he looks a bit flustered.

“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You shake your head and gesture that you're fine. You catch your breath and finally take a good look at him, and you quite like what you see. He has dark, short hair that suits his face nicely. His shoulders are quite broad, and you can tell he has some muscle on him. More importantly, he has warm, brown eyes that seem to stare right through you.

You take a deep breath and finally say, “I’m sorry, but who—” when a very angry-looking woman storms over. Just when you thought your eyes couldn't get any wider.

“Who the hell do you think you are?! Flirting with someone else, standing me up on our date? I can't believe you, Daichi! Koushi said you were a total catch! Ugh!”

You break your gaze away from the fired-up woman and steal a glance at who you guess is Daichi, and see his jaw is practically on the floor. He sputters and is stuck between looking at you and her, before she stomps her way out of the restaurant. 

You two are silent for a moment, registering the chaos that just erupted at your table. Out of the corner of your eye, you can spot several groups of fellow diners whispering about what just happened, and you honestly wish you could disappear.

You sigh and meet his eyes. “Daichi, right?” He nods grimly. “I’m almost certain you can tell by now I wasn’t your date. I was going to tell you but I was pretty confused and couldn't find a good time to, and then, well…” You grimace at the thought of getting yelled at by his date. 

“I am so sorry.” He lets out a deep sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “To be honest, I don’t do this kind of thing- dating, I mean. My friend said he’d found a good match, and the way he described her, well I thought- I thought it was you.” He lets out a nervous cough.

You blink and think about his words. “What.. do you mean?” His face blushes and his gaze focuses on a corner in the room.

 “He, um, said that my date was very beautiful. That she was very approachable, and funny. I heard all that, and then the hostess said my date was waiting back here, and I saw you. I thought ‘This must be her.’” You watch his face as he goes on, and all you see is sincerity. Your face burns due to the flattery coming from him right now.

“I… wow.” Is all you manage to get out.

“Once again, I'm sorry. I'll leave you to your dinner.” He pushes his chair out and moves to stand but you can hardly stop yourself from grasping his arm. 

“Wait!” His eyes widen slightly and he looks at you expectantly. You chew on your lip nervously and say, “I feel a little responsible for ruining your date. It's the least I could do to have dinner with you. If you would want to, that is.” 

He gives you a comforting smile and softly says, “I’d love that.”

note: this was so fun to write, thx so much for the requests. I hope it lives up to your expectations :)

[lolacelest101]

No Need For Privacy

18+ MDNI

Hii!!! This is my first story or anything like this that I write and publish so I am sure it will be bad. I would love to get your feedback and let me know if I missed anything in the TWs. I am a big fan of F1 and other mainstream spaces so I will try to do more in the future.

Happy Reading!

Word Count: 6131

Themes: Lando!Norris x Fem!American!reader, Embarrassing moment turn spicy, next door neighbor, close proximity

Smutty tings: wall pinning, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation, mirror sex, p in v, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex!!!!), spanking, oral sex, slight edging, fingering, gagging, praise and degradation kink.

Your POV

I moved to Monaco a week ago with my two best friends from work, Liana and Aaliyah. It’s been a dream come true for all of us, especially since our company launched a new project in the Monaco branch and requested our expertise.

Settling in has been a breeze, mostly thanks to Alexander Qasemi, the top manager of the Monaco office. He has multiple investments in the area and offered to rent out one of his properties to us at a discount. It’s conveniently close to the office, and his wife, Catalina, has been a lifesaver, helping us get set up, showing us around, and pointing out all the spots we need to check out. Coming from Florida, Monaco feels like a mix of Palm Beach and Miami, but it’s still a world apart from Tampa, where we grew up.

The house has three bedrooms, each with its own view from the second floor. We picked rooms based on the views, but I ended up going for the one with extra closet space—even if it has a “boring” view of the street and a direct line of sight into the house next door. And judging by what I’ve seen, the neighbor isn’t big on privacy; I can see right into what looks like the main bedroom.

I wake up to Liana singing loudly to what sounds like a new song by The Weeknd, her voice filling the house. Squinting as sunlight streams into my room, I reluctantly drag myself up and into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth, choosing to ignore my messy bed hair. Liana’s door is open, and she spots me staggering around like a zombie.

“Good morning, sunshine!” she shouts, singing along with the song. All I can think is, It’s way too early for this.

I shuffle back to my room and glance at the clock on my nightstand. It flashes 10:32 AM, and panic hits—I remember that Catalina mentioned she’d be here around 10:45 AM to show us more of the area, and she insisted we make time for it.

I rush back into the hallway, suddenly wide awake. “Liana, why didn’t you wake us up? Catalina’s gonna be here any minute!”

Liana smirks and says, “I did, about 30 minutes ago. Aaliyah’s already up and made coffee. You told me I was ‘handsome and sexy’ and asked for five more minutes.” She’s trying not to laugh, and my face goes red as I realize I was probably having an almost wet dream.

“Well… he sure was, wasn’t he?” I say, trying to brush it off. “But we still need to hurry.”

After a quick change into something suitable for the weather, I throw on some black skinny jeans that hug my curves, a short flowy black-and-white striped top, and sneakers.

“Y/N, come down! Catalina’s here,” Aaliyah calls up the stairs.

I see her car pulling up from my window, so I run down to grab a quick sip of coffee before she knocks on the door. Liana’s sitting on the couch, putting her shoes on, and I lean against the counter, downing my coffee like it’s a race. Aaliyah opens the door, greeting Catalina with hugs and kisses. I set my mug down, go over to greet her, and offer to make her a coffee before we start the tour.

Catalina’s dressed in a floral top and white pants, looking like the definition of “aging like fine wine.” Despite being in her 60s, she doesn’t look a day over 40. She radiates warmth, like a grandmother everyone wishes they had.

Liana goes back to grab her phone, and as Catalina and I step outside, we bump into a man with dark hair and intense eyes. Catalina lights up as soon as she sees him, opening her arms for a hug.

“Oh, Max! I didn’t know you’d be here!” she says, surprised, pulling him in for an embrace.

“It was very last-minute for the Monaco GP,” he replies, hugging her back. When he lets go, he glances at me expectantly.

“Max, this is Y/N,” Catalina says. “She moved here a week ago with her friends.”

Max extends his hand, and I shake it, trying to keep my cool. “Nice to meet you. I guess we’ll be running into each other a lot,” I say, smiling.

Holy shit, Max Fewtrell is staying next door! My mind races, and I make a mental note to change my Quadrant phone case ASAP—I don’t want him thinking I’m some obsessive fan.

Max’s voice snaps me back. “Ah, an American accent! Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

I laugh lightly as Liana and Aaliyah join us. I introduce them, and Max shakes their hands before introducing himself.

“Nice to meet you,” he says. “I’m not exactly your neighbor, but my best friend lives here, so you’ll probably see him more often than me. Oh—there he is now,” he adds, looking over my shoulder.

My heart skips. The only person this could be is Lando Norris, and I’m about to pretend I’m way cooler than I actually am.

I snap back to see Lando Norris, head down, fiddling with his car keys. When he looks up, he immediately spots Catalina, a smile breaking across his face.

“Hey, you! How’ve you been? I already miss having you as my neighbor,” he says, giving her a hug.

She laughs, “I’ve missed you too, but I brought you some new company, so you won’t miss me too much.” Catalina turns to us with a smile. “Lando, these are the new neighbors: Liana, Aaliyah, and Y/N.”

Lando shakes each of our hands. His grip is firm, his fingers slightly calloused, probably from hours on the simulator. When he gets to me, I feel his gaze linger a bit longer, like he’s trying to place me.

“I don’t mean to sound creepy, but… you’re the one sleeping in that room, right?” He nods toward my bedroom window.

Caught off guard, I stammer, “Uh… yeah, that’s mine. Why?”

A faint blush crosses his face, a sly grin forming as he glances back at me. “You might want to, uh… move your mirror. Just saying.”

It takes a second for the realization to hit, but when it does, I’m mortified. I remember putting my large gold mirror directly across from the window and how, last night, after a long day of rearranging, I decided to… “treat” myself, lights on and all.

My mind races back to that memory—me stripping down, lying on my bed, a vibrator in one hand…

I force myself back to the present, trying to salvage what little dignity I have left. “Oh! I didn’t realize anyone was home over there… It looked empty all week.”

Lando chuckles, his grin widening. “Yeah, I just got back last night. And… well, let’s just say I got quite the welcome back.”

The heat rising in my cheeks is unbearable, and I quickly turn to Catalina. “So, Catalina, you mentioned we have a lot of places to see today?”

I feel Lando’s eyes on me, making my skin prickle with heat.

“Yes! Let’s get going.” Catalina waves goodbye to the guys, and we start heading toward her SUV. As I walk away, I can still feel Lando’s gaze burning into me, like he’s savoring every second of my embarrassment.

-------------------

Later That Night

The night air is warm and slightly humid, with a faint breeze blowing in from the sea. We’d just gotten back from the club, laughing and chattering as we climbed out of the cab. Aaliyah and Liana are still buzzing with energy, but I hang back a bit, enjoying the cool air on my flushed skin.

Liana nudges my shoulder. “We’re going inside to get some water. You good out here?”

I nod, waving them off. “Yeah, I just need a moment to cool down. I’ll be right behind you.”

They head inside, leaving me alone in the quiet of the street. I close my eyes, letting the night’s calm settle around me, when I hear footsteps. I look up, and there’s Lando, standing just a few feet away with Max at his side. Max offers a friendly nod before slipping inside, leaving Lando and me alone on the sidewalk.

“Well, look who it is,” Lando drawls, a smirk playing on his lips. “Didn’t expect to see you out here this late.”

I shrug, trying to act nonchalant. “Just needed some air. The club was loud.”

He steps closer, his gaze intense. “So, have you moved that mirror yet?”

I feel my cheeks heat up despite the cool night air. “Why do you keep bringing that up?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he says, his tone teasing. “Maybe because it’s hard to forget. Didn’t realize you were such an exhibitionist, but hey, I’m not complaining.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “I didn’t know anyone was watching. And I’m not an exhibitionist.”

He raises an eyebrow, the smirk never leaving his face. “Could’ve fooled me. You looked pretty comfortable up there, totally absorbed… didn’t even close the blinds.”

The tension between us is thick, the memory of last night making my pulse race. I cross my arms, feeling his gaze linger on me. “Well, you could’ve looked away.”

“Could’ve,” he agrees, stepping even closer until he’s barely a foot away. His voice drops lower, his tone laced with something dark and enticing. “But I didn’t want to.”

A shiver runs through me as his words sink in. We’re standing close enough now that I can feel his warmth, his eyes scanning my face, searching for something. His gaze drops briefly to my lips, and I can feel the air crackling between us, heavy and charged.

I tilt my head, giving him a challenging look. “You get off on watching your neighbors, then?”

His smirk deepens. “Not usually. But you’re not just any neighbor, are you?”

I swallow, feeling my resolve slipping. “And what makes me so special?”

Lando’s hand lifts, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from my face, lingering just a second too long. “Something about you… can’t quite put my finger on it.”

His voice is rougher now, barely above a whisper. Every nerve in my body is on fire, my breath hitching as his gaze drops to my lips again.

“What are you waiting for, then?” I murmur, my voice betraying a hint of a dare.

He chuckles softly, his fingers trailing down my cheek. “You sure you can handle it?”

I lean forward, closing the space between us just enough that I can feel the heat of his breath against my lips. “I think I can manage.”

Lando’s hand moves to my waist, pulling me a fraction closer until there’s barely any space left between us. “Careful, princess. Once we start, I might not stop.”

His words are a warning, but his eyes tell a different story—one that has me aching to close the distance, to see just how far this tension can go.

Just as Lando leans in, his hand firmly on my waist and his eyes locked on mine, the front door swings open, breaking the moment.

“Y/N!” Aaliyah calls out, her voice bright and oblivious. “You coming? We need you to settle a debate on which of us danced better tonight!”

I pull back, startled, and glance over at the girls standing in the doorway. They don’t notice Lando standing in the shadows just out of their line of sight.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be right in,” I call, trying to keep my voice steady, heart still racing from the almost-kiss.

Lando chuckles softly, his hand slipping from my waist, though his gaze doesn’t leave mine. There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans down, his lips grazing my ear, voice low and teasing. “Guess we’ll have to pick this up some other time, hmm?”

My breath catches, and I turn to give him a playful glare, but he’s already smirking, enjoying every second of my flustered expression. I can barely think straight, still caught up in the heated moment we were just sharing.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmurs, his tone laced with a promise that has my heart thudding against my chest. He steps back, giving me one last lingering look before turning toward his house. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder with that signature smirk.

“Don’t let those blinds stay open tonight,” he says, voice dripping with suggestion. “Or do. Your call.”

I feel a blush rising to my cheeks as he disappears into the darkness, leaving me there with my heart pounding and my mind racing.

I turn back toward the house, trying to regain my composure as I walk inside. Aaliyah and Liana are too caught up in their dance debate to notice the flush on my face or the slight tremble in my hands.

But as I head upstairs, all I can think about is Lando’s words, his hand on my waist, the almost-kiss that left me wanting so much more. That smirk, that challenge—it’s all burned into my mind, and I can still feel the heat of his touch lingering on my skin.

I lie in bed, staring at my mirror across from the window, replaying the night in my mind. And, despite my better judgment, I leave the blinds just a little open.

--------------

The Next Morning

I wake up to a quiet house, the morning sun streaming in through my half-open blinds. Liana and Aaliyah left early to grab some groceries, promising to be back soon, but I decided to stay and sleep in. After a while, though, I find myself wide awake and craving something sweet—specifically, chocolate chip cookies.

I slip into some cozy clothes and head downstairs, popping on some music as I pull ingredients from the cupboards. Soon, the smell of warm cookies fills the air, and I feel a little proud of my spontaneous baking session. Figuring it’d be a nice way to break the ice, I plate a few to bring next door later.

Just as I pull out the last tray from the oven, there’s a knock at the door. I wipe my hands on a towel, open it, and, sure enough, there’s Lando, standing there with his signature smirk.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” he says, stepping in before I can even invite him. “Saw the girls head out and figured you’d still be here. Thought you’d sleep all day after last night’s… excitement.”

I feel my cheeks heat instantly, but I roll my eyes, trying to brush it off. “Good morning to you, too. And no, I don’t sleep all day. I’m actually productive.”

He glances at the mixing bowls and cooling cookies. “Productive, huh? Baking cookies for the new neighbors?” He reaches over, snagging one from the plate. “Are these just for me?”

“They’re for the neighbors,” I say, crossing my arms with a smirk. “But you’re welcome to have one.”

He takes a bite, savoring it with an approving nod. “Alright, alright—not bad. Didn’t peg you as a homemaker.”

“I’ve got layers,” I tease, nudging him lightly.

He chuckles, but his gaze drifts around the kitchen, taking in the scattered ingredients and my little baking mess. His eyes eventually settle back on me, a glint of mischief lighting them up.

“So, I gotta ask,” he says, leaning against the counter, “did you actually move that mirror? Or should I go check?”

I feel a flicker of heat under his gaze, but I keep my tone even, hoping he won’t catch on. “Of course I did. You were right—it needed to be moved.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Oh, yeah? Somehow, I don’t quite believe you.”

Before I can stop him, he’s already heading for the stairs, and my heart leaps. “Lando!” I laugh nervously, following after him. “You don’t need to go up there!”

“Need to see for myself,” he says over his shoulder, that smirk still on his face. “If you really moved it, then you shouldn’t mind me checking.”

He starts toward the stairs, and I blink, realizing what he means. “Wait, Lando—”

But he’s already halfway up, glancing back with that mischievous glint in his eye. “Come on, Y/N. Don’t tell me you’re shy now.”

I trail him up the stairs, heart racing. The truth is, I didn’t move the mirror—it’s still in the exact same spot, right across from the bed. And now he’s about to see it.

He steps into my room and glances around, his gaze landing on the mirror across from the bed, right where he left it in his memory. The corner of his mouth lifts, and he lets out a low chuckle, clearly amused.

“You didn’t move it,” he murmurs, his voice low and pleased.

I cross my arms, trying to play it off. “I like it where it is. Why should I change it just because you got an eyeful?”

Lando steps closer, his gaze never wavering from mine, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe I want another one.”

The tension between us thickens, the air electric. He’s close enough now that I can feel his warmth, his gaze dropping to my lips before returning to my eyes. His hand moves up to gently brush a strand of hair from my face, lingering just a moment too long, fingers tracing down my jaw.

“You’re not afraid of a little attention, are you?” he asks, his voice soft, teasing.

I swallow, trying to steady my breathing. “Depends on who’s watching.”

He leans in even closer, his breath warm against my skin. “Then tonight… don’t close those blinds. And don’t move that mirror.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and filled with promise. My heart races, every nerve tingling as I meet his gaze, a challenge sparking between us that’s impossible to ignore.

Lando’s fingers linger on my jaw for just a moment longer, then he pulls back, that smirk still on his lips as he steps away.

“Enjoy your cookies, Y/N,” he says, glancing over his shoulder as he heads back downstairs, leaving me standing there, breathless, the echo of his words replaying in my mind.

As I watch him leave, I can still feel the heat of his touch, the thrill of his words searing into my memory. And tonight? Well, let’s just say I don’t plan on closing those blinds.

----------

Later That Night

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting Monaco in a warm, golden glow, I stand in front of my bedroom mirror, adjusting the last few things on my dresser. The blinds are open just enough, casting a soft reflection of the room and inviting in a sliver of the night. I glance over my shoulder at the window, knowing full well who might be watching.

I breathe in, feeling the excitement build. Tonight, I’m ready to give him that “show” he teased me about. I settle onto my bed, relaxing against the pillows, and allow myself to sink into the evening’s quiet. There’s an awareness in the air, the thrill of knowing that maybe, just maybe, I’m being watched.

I reach over to my nightstand, casually bringing out my favorite toys, a purple vibrating dildo and a vibrating toy in the shape of a tongue. Slowly, I begin to lose myself in the moment, all too aware of the tantalizing possibility that Lando might be watching from his window.

Just as I’m truly relaxing into the scene, there’s a firm knock at the door, shattering the silence. My heart jumps as I glance at the door, pulse racing. I hesitate, but something inside pushes me to go see who it is.

I make my way downstairs, opening the door just wide enough to see Lando standing there, his eyes dark, filled with that same mischievous look that’s been driving me crazy. He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk.

“You left your blinds open,” he murmurs, his voice low and laced with suggestion. “Thought I’d come by and… check on you.”

In one swift motion, he closes the space between us, his hands sliding around my waist, pressing me firmly against the wall, his body heat igniting every inch of me. His gaze locks onto mine, daring me to pull away, but there’s no chance I would. He dips his head, his lips grazing my ear as he whispers, “You knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?”

I shiver, the thrill of his words sparking something wild and eager between us. His hands roam, fingers slipping under my shirt, exploring every curve as his lips capture mine in a kiss that’s hungry and unapologetic, each movement demanding a response.

As he carries me to the bedroom, there’s an electric anticipation, an unspoken promise that fills the space between us. The moment we reached my room, he pressed me against the wall, his hands firm on my waist, holding me steady. His gaze meets mine in the mirror across from us, dark and intense, every look fueling the thrill building between us.

He leans in, his voice a low murmur against my neck. “You knew I couldn’t stay away, didn’t you?” His words send a shiver through me, and he slides his hands along my waist, drawing me even closer, his touch both possessive and gentle, filled with the heat we’ve been holding back.

“I did—but I didn’t anticipate you barging in at this hour,” I manage to say between kisses, each one feeling more primal than the last. My core seems to have a mind of its own, my hips grinding against him, wanting more. Needing more.

He grins against my lips. “Didn’t take you for the needy type, princess.” He pulls back, sitting on the bed, leaving me craving the contact.

“Well, princess, not everything comes easy,” he murmurs, his gaze growing hungrier. “You teased me, so now it’s time you learn your lesson.”

I rise from his lap, tugging his shirt off in one motion, my hands exploring his toned chest and feeling his muscles tense under my touch. I trail kisses from his jaw down his neck, my lips grazing every inch, each one making my core ache with anticipation.

Sliding to my knees between his thighs, I reach the waistband of his trousers and boxers, sliding them down to let his hard cock spring free. My eyes, full of lust and need, are fixed on him, my mouth craving the feel of him. I waste no time wrapping my hand around his length, bringing my mouth to the tip, letting my tongue swirl slowly around the head before sliding down, inch by inch.

His moans and grunts grow stronger, more primal by the second. His hands grip my hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail, giving both of us a clearer view in the mirror.

“Fuck, princess, look at you, being such a good girl for me,” he growls, tilting my head to see his cock sliding deep into my mouth, the tip pressing at the back of my throat. Our eyes meet in the reflection, his grin never fading, eyes bright with satisfaction at the sight.

I try hard not to choke or gag as he picks up the pace, using my mouth for his pleasure. I can feel my own need intensifying, wetness pooling as I slip my free hand between my legs, seeking a hint of relief from the ache.

Just as I feel his cum on my tongue, sliding down my throat, my moans vibrate around his length, making him twitch in my mouth. His gaze shifts to the mirror, catching sight of my hand as I touch myself. In that instant, he releases his hold on my head and pulls his cock from my mouth, leaving a mix of confusion and hunger on my face.

“Princess… did I tell you that you could touch yourself?” Lando leans in, lifting my chin so our faces are close, his breath warm against my lips.

“No, you didn’t,” I reply, a hint of rebellion mixed with anticipation flashing across my face.

“Well, bad girls need punishments, so let me think of something.” An idea lights up his eyes as he guides me up onto the bed, positioning me on my hands and knees, facing the mirror. My mascara has smudged, trailing down my cheeks from the tears shed while he was in my mouth.

Part of me craves for him to finally take me and fill me up, while another part wants to see just what punishment he has in store.

He stands beside the bed and instructs me to keep my ass up and face down, so I adjust to ensure we’re both visible in the mirror. Once I settle, Lando’s hand trails from my hair down the arch of my back and onto my ass. He rubs my cheeks, his fingers dipping lower to feel my wetness, sticky and creamy, dripping onto the mattress.

“Look at you. So wet and needy for me,” he murmurs, bringing two fingers coated in my arousal back to my lips. I open my mouth, ready for a taste, and he slides his fingers in, letting me lick them clean. His breath is warm on my neck as he leans close to whisper in my ear.

“Good girls don’t touch themselves unless I say so.” He nibbles on my earlobe. “But it seems like you might just be my needy little slut instead.”

He steps away, the cool air hitting my sensitive core, sending shivers down my spine and adding a thrill to the moment.

Without warning, a sharp smack lands on one of my ass cheeks, the pain mixing with a tingling heat. He rubs over the reddened spot before delivering another smack, this time to the other side.

“Since you teased me twice, you’ll be getting four spanks—unless I see you haven’t learned your lesson.” He counts, “One,” landing a solid smack, then “Two,” and repeats on both sides. By the time he finishes the fourth, his hand has left my skin bright red, each touch leaving a sensitive, electric throb. A mix of pleasure and pain shows on my face with each strike.

“That’s it, my perfect princess,” he murmurs, brushing his fingertips gently over my sore, reddened skin. “You did so well. I think you’ve earned a reward, don’t you?”

“Yes, please,” I breathe, arching my back and raising my hips higher, my aching core desperate for attention. A grin spreads across his face as his fingers slip into my folds, rubbing my swollen clit, drawing a moan from my lips with every heavy breath.

Lando’s hunger grows more possessive as he slips a finger inside me, filling my tight heat. The sensation sends my body into overdrive, and the pleasure on his face only fuels the fire inside me. He slides another finger in, his free hand roaming along the curve of my arching spine.

His thumb continues to circle my sensitive clit, his pace quickening as he pumps his fingers in and out, each movement leaving me trembling with need. I bite my lip, trying to muffle my moans, but the pleasure is too much.

“Lando… I’m—close,” I manage to breathe out between gasps and moans.

“Oh, princess, I can see that,” he murmurs, sliding his fingers out of me suddenly, leaving an unbearable emptiness in their wake.

My wetness clings to his fingers in a glistening string as he pulls them away. “Fuck, you look so good on my fingers,” he growls, his gaze fixed on the sight of my arousal. Slowly, he brings his fingers to his lips, wrapping his tongue around them and sucking them clean.

“FUCK. And you taste ten thousand times better.” His eyes flutter shut for a moment as he savors the taste, the heat in the room climbing higher. The sight of him tasting me sends my brain spiraling into bliss, my gaping mouth wordlessly wishing for more.

Moments later, he leans down, his tongue sliding through my folds, the sensation stealing the air from my lungs. He places a light, teasing kiss on my core before beginning to suck and eat every inch of my pussy with eager determination.

“Fuck, you’re addictive, princess,” he murmurs against my entrance, the vibration of his voice making me shiver. His hands grip my ass firmly, spreading me wider, giving him full access to devour me.

His tongue teases my entrance, flicking and dipping inside, making my body twitch and ache for more. My hips start to move on their own, thrusting slightly, begging for him to go deeper.

Without warning, he flips me onto my back, positioning me for a better view. His hands grasp my thighs, and with quick precision, he pulls me to the edge of the bed. Dropping to his knees, he toys with my clit, his fingers circling and pressing before diving back between my legs, tongue working with unrelenting fervor.

“Now this, princess,” he murmurs between kisses and licks, his voice dripping with satisfaction, “I’d eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the rest of my life.”

His words push me closer to the edge, my climax approaching rapidly as my legs begin to tremble. His grip tightens on me, holding me in place, preventing me from pulling away from his relentless mouth. My body shudders suddenly as the wave of relief I’ve been craving washes over me.

My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as I grind against his mouth, riding out every pulse of my orgasm, my breaths coming in ragged gasps.

I feel my arousal spill into his mouth as he greedily licks and sucks, not letting a single drop go to waste. He stands, his eyes dark and filled with hunger, leaning in to kiss me. The taste of my release lingers on his lips, and I moan softly, lost in the sensation.

His hard cock presses against my core, grinding against me with desperate need, and I instinctively move my hips, craving to feel him inside me. His kiss grows rough and possessive, his hand sliding down from my neck to my breasts. He pinches one of my nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through me and drawing a gasp that he swallows into the kiss, his grin wicked and satisfied.

“If my needy princess wants something, she has to ask for it,” he whispers, his lips parting from mine with a teasing grin, his breath warm against my ear.

His hand slides down to my clit, his fingers circling and flicking, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. My breath hitches, and a soft moan escapes my lips, my mind struggling to process his words.

“Use your words, princess. Tell me what you want,” he growls, his voice firm yet tantalizing, his fingers working me into a frenzy.

“Fuck me, please,” I murmur, my voice trembling as the heat builds in my core, every nerve in my body begging for him.

“Say that again, princess,” he demands, his tone dripping with playful dominance. “A little louder for me.”

“Fuck! I need you to fuck me—to feel you inside me. Please!” The frustration and raw need are evident in my voice, my body aching for him to claim me.

“That’s my good little slut,” he murmurs, satisfaction clear in his tone. He adjusts himself at my entrance, teasing me for a moment before slowly sliding inside, letting me adjust to his size. The stretch is overwhelming, and my fingers instinctively trail down his back, nails digging in and leaving marks. He jolts forward at the sensation, filling me deeper and making my head fall back, my back arching as I gasp at the sudden invasion.

He growls into my neck, leaving a trail of kisses and soft bites as he begins to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first. The rhythm shifts, his chest lifting from mine, giving him a full view of my bare body beneath him. One hand slides to my stomach, pressing down lightly as he picks up speed, fucking me harder and faster, his thrusts deep and commanding.

“That’s it, princess,” he growls, his voice raw with pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Let me stretch you just enough to make your pussy become a ring on my cock.” His hips slam into mine with a hunger that matches my own, the sound of our skin meeting echoing through the room.

As his thrusts grow more desperate, his hand reaches for the vibrating tongue toy on the nightstand. Without missing a beat, he presses it against my clit, the sudden overload of sensation making me throw my head back, a loud moan of his name escaping my lips as my hands clutch the sheets for dear life.

A wicked glint of satisfaction flashes across Lando’s face, his grin smug and proud. He leans in close, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispers, “Princess, as much as your moans are music to my ears, we can’t have your friends interrupting us right now—or finding out that their sweet little friend is such a good slut for the guy next door.”

Before I can respond, he grabs my black lace panties by the bed—the ones I’d removed during my earlier “show”—and gently pushes them into my mouth, muffling my cries of ecstasy as he continues to claim me.

My pussy clenches and twitches around his cock as his thrusts grow wetter, the sound of our movements filling the room. My orgasm teeters on the edge, his cum seeping into me, intensifying the sensation.

His growls and moans grow deeper and more primal. “Fuck, princess, you must be close,” he murmurs, his face satisfied as he watches my trembling legs and the euphoria written all over my face.

My muffled cries escape past the panties still in my mouth, vibrating softly in the heated air. “Cum for me, princess,” Lando commands, thrusting into me twice more. His words send me hurtling into my second orgasm of the night, my body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure consume me.

Lando’s thrusts grow sloppy, his grip on my waist tightening as he buries himself deep inside me. My pussy milks every last drop of his release, the warmth of his cum splashing against my inner walls. With a low growl, he slides out of me, both of our arousals dripping down my thighs and pooling onto the mattress.

He steps back, his eyes lighting up as he takes in the sight of my used, naked body, glistening and dripping with his cum. Slowly, his gaze traces every inch of me, savoring the evidence of what we’d just done.

“You know,” he says, his voice still thick with lust, “I might want this view every hour of the day from now on.” His tone is intoxicating, and he steps closer, gently removing the panties from my mouth before placing a soft kiss on my lips. “What do you think? You agree?” His smirk deepens, a dimple just beginning to peek through.

“I think that can be arranged,” I reply, wrapping my arms around his neck, a cheeky smile spreading across my face.

“Perfect,” he says, brushing his lips along my skin in a trail of butterfly kisses. “Let me start a shower for you, and then you can get some rest.” His voice is softer now, but still filled with care.

As he moves toward the bathroom, I pull myself up onto shaky feet, my body sore in all the best ways. Each ache is a reminder of every moment we’d just shared. I follow him, leaning on the sink in front of the mirror, catching a glimpse of my reflection—flushed, satisfied, and completely undone. The sensation of his cum still seeping out of me draws my attention, and I can’t help but slide a finger down to catch a drop, bringing it to my lips. I shut my eyes, savoring the taste.

Fuck, I need more.

Lando calls to me, his voice echoing softly under the sound of the shower. I walk toward him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he turns to face me. Pulling him into a sensual kiss, I whisper against his lips, “Are you up for a round two?” A glimmer of mischief dances in my eyes.

Lando grins at my request, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips. Leaning close, he murmurs under the steam of the shower, “I could never deny you a request like that, princess.”

The End

[nicholaschavezobsessed]

I Need a Doctor

dr. charlie mayhew x plus size f! reader

18+ MDNI

warnings: cursing, suggestive language, patient in coma, not proofread.

word count: 1,219

should i write a part 2??????

————————————————————————

As soon as you received the call, you hurried to the hospital, pushing past the nurses who were trying to stop you from storming into the patient's room. Your hand immediately catches hers as you fall beside her bed, tears streaming down your cheeks. All eyes were on you, a mess on the floor beside your sister's bed, the room falling silent except the beeping of the monitor.

After a few seconds past, seconds really feeling like minutes, you glance up at the curious eyes focused on you. You stand up, clearing your throat, wiping the mess of tears off your face. “How is my sister doing?” you mumble quietly as you look at the doctor.

He sighs softly to himself as he runs his hands through his hair and looks down at the ground to avoid your focused stare. "Since someone dumped her off here last night, she hasn't progressed. The bright side is that we were fortunate to reach her at that time, or otherwise." You glance at your sister's condition again, your body churning with rage as she lies there, unconscious.

You move from her side to stand in front of the doctor, your finger accusingly piercing his chest, glaring at him as his words reverberate in your mind. "What are you not doing more of? Is there nothing else you can do? Your tone a mixture of sadness and anger.

You are brought back down a level by his powerful hands gripping your shoulders. "Y/n, we are doing everything we can," I promise. You were shaken out of your thoughts by his gentle yet firm tone. Your finger slides off his chest as you let out a little moan. I'm sorry, but she's all I have. I can’t lose her too.” You shake your head as your hands rub against your face, pushing your glasses slightly up.

————————————————————————

An hour later

After gathering your composure, you find yourself sitting in the cafeteria, eyes bloodshot red as you sip the coffee you don’t even remember fixing. Ever since the hospital called you, everything has been a blur, not even entirely sure how you managed to drive here. Your eyes flutter shut, thoughts erratically running through your head, wondering how this even happened. There’s no way your sister just fell and hit her head.

You're startled out of your thoughts by the sound coming from the chair opposite from you. The physician who was responsible for your sister's treatment ended up across from you. You eventually glance him over, no longer consumed by rage. His eyes are piercing brown, and his hair is unkempt and deep brown. He clasps his hands together in front of you, a smile spreading across his lips.

“How are you feeling y/n?” a solemn tone to his voice as his eyes never once leave yours. You look into the now-cold coffee in your hands and shrug your shoulders. I don't know if my sister will ever come out of her coma. "Tell me, Dr. Mayhew, how I'm feeling, please." You scowl at him, the sarcasm leaking from your lips.

He throws up his hands, a laugh escaping his lips. “Sorry, I was just checking on you…” he utters softly, causing you to slightly crack a smile. “My apologies, Dr. Mayhew” you mumble the last part as you inspect his name badge. “It’s just…. hard to know that the only person you have left is in that state.” You take a deep breath and run your unsteady fingers over your hair. With a comforting hand on your shoulder, he pulls his chair closer. His eyes are fixed on you as he fades off, "I understand, I wish there was more I could do for you." You swiftly shuffle in your chair, turning your body to his.

"Not to burden you with all of this." Holding a hand between you, he interrupts you. "Go ahead; this is just a part of the job." His tone of voice has a tinge of sincerity mixed with sternness. "Well, my brother, sister, and I were the only ones growing up. It's terrible that my brother no longer speaks with us, but that isn't the point. Despite our age difference, my sister and I have always been close. The idea of her leaving my life is unbearable; we've been through everything together, so I never really envisioned it. Was she perfect? God no. “But she’s all I have, and I’ll be damned if she leaves me.” You finally glance up, his eyes locked on you, causing your cheeks to flush.

His hand squeezes your shoulder, a soft smile placed on his lips. “I promise you; she’ll be okay. I will do everything I can.”

————————————————————————

Days turn into weeks, your sister still not showing any sign of getting better, but no sign of getting worse either. Each day without fail, Dr. Mayhew was there to comfort you in the cafeteria, always turning your sad days into bearable ones.

"So, Dr. Mayhew, tell me." He swiftly cuts you off. "Please, call me Charlie." You clear your throat, your voice slightly wavering. "So Charlie, tell me, do you do this with all your patients loved ones?" He leans back in the chair, glancing you over carefully, paying extra attention to the way your pants cling to your thick thighs. "Only the ones I think deserve the consoling."

"Oh? So, you think I'm worthy, Charlie?" As you see him observing you, you draw closer to him, your breath catching in your throat. His gaze gently moves up your body, taking in your voluptuous, thick waist. "Yeah, I think your worthy." You stand up and tug at the cloth that is stuck to your thighs as the room seems suddenly heated. "Excuse me." Without even glancing back at him, you dash to the closest restroom. You try to cool yourself by splashing water on your face while resting your glasses on the sink's edge. Wondering what the fuck is wrong with you, your hands are resting on your plump cheeks. "He's your sister's doctor; you can't think like this." You place your glasses back on, images of him hovering over you, white shirt unbuttoned, that gold cross necklace dangling from him. You push those thoughts in the back of your mind as your swing the door open and step out, the cool air hitting you suddenly blocked as you connect with someone's body.

"Fuck, I am so sorry." You scramble over your apologetic words before a hand comes to rest under your chin, lifting your head to look at them. "If you wanted to be against me, all you had to do was ask." Charlie, smirked down at you, watching the color rise to your cheeks.

You stammer, over your words before backing up, back gently slamming against the bathroom door. "Charlie...."With cautious approach, he places his hands on either side of your head to stop you from moving. He leans down, lips grazing against your cheeks, causing everything else to fade away leaving only him and you in this moment. "Say the word and I'll leave right now, because I won't be able to control myself around you if you keep looking at me like that." His words send shivers down your spine, your breathing quickening as you consider his words. Fuck it.

[prudentseer]

very unoriginal i know, but imagine a lovely night with smalletho.

I don't know what this means, if this is a request or just a thought but yes.

As a treat for the ask you can have a bit of writing I did on the spot (it's not so much night as it is evening but close enough). It's not amazing or very well thought out but know I tried for you anon.

It feels like Joel's going crazy.

First it was small; like a tiny piece of his homemade garlic was broken off or the cheese he was grating into his pasta seemed smaller. Then it became ridiculous, like an entire chicken thigh missing or a large streak through the sauce still sitting in the pan it was made in.

He finally catches the culprit red-handed, well fork-handed, when he comes back from the pantry and Etho is eating straight out of the pot of pasta.

"Oi!"

Etho at least has the mind to look guilty. "Oh hey Joel! I was just--"

"Get out of here!"

"Just a little more?"

"Out!" Joel exclaims, shoving him away from the pot so he can stir the pasta. "Why can't you just wait until it's...I don't know, actually done?! You're going to be eating it anyways."

Etho grins at him. "Taste testing!"

Joel rolls his eyes at him and huffs which only gets Etho to smile more at him, pulling him in by the waist to give him a hug from the back. Joel doesn't resist, letting Etho drop his head onto his shoulder. He can still smell the incriminating pasta sauce when he speaks.

"Aw don't be mad at me."

Joel sighs dramatically. "I do all this work--"

"And I appreciate it."

"--and you never help--"

"Only because you get mad if I get in your way."

"--only for you to stealing from me before it's even done."

"I'm sorry." Etho says, sounding not very sorry, Joel tilts his head back to confirm his suspicions via the soft smile on Etho's face. He manages another sigh before Etho kisses him on the top of his head, then the cheek and then the corner of his lips.

"You can't kiss your way out of this."

"Just means I'm not giving you enough." He responds, kissing Joel on the temple. "How many until I guarantee I still have a plate at the table?"

"One hundred."

"A hundred?! I was thinking ten!"

Now it's Joel's turn to smile. "I'll be nice and split it down the middle and you can give me fifty."

Etho laughs. "That's still a lot."

"Better start now then."

[zyonsay]

Snowfall SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY

Summary: Watch duty has gotten much more interesting...

Reader: Genderneutral

Warnings: Disgusting fluff, Ghost is a softie

Now playing: 'Sex,Drugs, Etc.' by Beach Weather

AN: I HAVE RISEN FROM THE DEAD!! Jokes, but i really cant find any motivation to write at the moment. Then suddenly this came up and i thought why not make some people happy and write it down :P Honestly felt good writing again after such a long time. Also, Fun Fact: I wrote this whole thing in OneNote. Anyways, have fun with it!

It's a cold, crisp night. Snow had fallen over the last few days, a gentle blanket of white laying over the landscape. You and Ghost were on watch duty, holed up in an abandoned military watchtower.

Your legs dangle lightly as you sit on the outskirt of the watchtower, your eyes scanning the area. There were various warehouses and icy gravel roads to observe. Nothing much has happened besides the occasional fox or deer  passing by. You've joined the 141 only a few weeks ago as an assault rifle specialist and had only participated in two major missions. To a lot of people's surprise, Ghost had grown quite fond of you. He noticed how reliable you were, which was what initially drew him in. But the more often he got stuck on watch duty and patrols with you, the more he started appreciating your friendly, stubborn nature. You didn't seem scared like everyone else did, but you also didn't pry on him like some others tried to.

Even through his mask and balaclava, Ghosts breath formed small white clouds, like a dragon of some sorts. The snow under his boots crunched as he walked towards you and plopped down next to you. He glances over at you, studying your profile. You looked focused, your sharp gaze scanning the surroundings for anything suspicious. You felt his eyes on you, making you turn your head towards the man, a sweet grin on your lips. Ghost immediately whirled his head the other way, feeling embarrassed that you caught his usual stoic expression faltering. A light flush crept onto his cheeks, which you couldn't see but might've also just guessed by the way he averted his gaze. He clears his throat in an attempt to regain his composure, but he can't help the light upwards tug of his lips. Even in this brutal weather you'd managed to make him smile.

Theres a moment of silence, only accompanied by the occasional croak of a crow or the creaking of old metal framework. Ghost looks back out into the distance, trying to distract himself. Very sneakily you gather some of the snow that had settled around you and with a quick movement you hurled it right at your Lieutenants face. He gasped at the sudden sensation, even if most of it was blocked by his mask. He blinks for a second, taken aback and then turns to look at you. "Oi, what the- " , he splutters, shaking off some of the snow that managed to spill through his mask. He glares at you for a moment, but there was no real anger in that. Perhaps only a bit of amusement. He shakes his head a bit more, trying to get the rest of the snow out. Then, without a warning, he grabs a handful himself and tosses it right back at you. The powdery white mass plopped right against your face, a lot of it was luckily blocked off by your balaclava. You shake your head, laughing. "You're done for Simon." Ghost grins under his mask, watching the snow fall from your face, some small flecks still sticking to your skin. "Is that a challenge, Sergeant?", he retorts while gathering more snow in  his hand. "Yes, yes it is Lieutenant.", you bunch some snow to a ball. He lets out a low chuckle and rolls the ball of snow in his gloved hands. "Careful what you wish for, love.", he playfully warns with a prominent grin, even under his mask. "Are you threatening me?", you raise an eyebrow in faux offense. "What if i was?", his voice sounding gruff but his soft expression gives away the lightheartedness in his statement.

Swiftly, you attack. The snowball in your hand thunders towards Ghost, even if he wasn't all that far away. He narrowly ducked it and was quick to hurl his own snowball at you, hitting you right in the chest. Out of reflex you throw yourself against him, taking a handful of snow with you and rubbing it into his mask. He gasps while you wrestle him to the ground. "Got you." For good measure you scooped another handful into his face. He looks up at you, small puffs of white escaping into the cold air. He can't deny that, you did get him. He could easily overpower you, but for now he was entranced by the sight of you straddling him, snow sticking to your balaclava. The weight and warmth of your body was welcoming and made his heart skip a beat. Bloody Hell, he thinks to himself at the scene at hand. Now that you've caught your breath, you realized that you were basically sitting in your Lieutenants lap, a light flush crept across your face. As realization dawns on you, a storm of emotions is set off in Ghost. His blood is running through his veins, hot and fast. He can feel his heart hammering in his chest.

Ghost hesitates. He's still Lieutenant Ghost, professional and composed. Usually. He swallows hard, his normally distant demeanor dropping immediately. Part of him is telling him to pull away and maintain that professional distance, but the other part, that is admittedly winning, wants to pull you closer. Simon licks his lips, his voice thick with restraint as he speaks. "Sarge…"

You pull off your balaclava, tossing it aside. His eyes widen slightly as you expose your face to the cold breeze, your cheeks flushed. Your unguarded, raw expression makes his heart skip a beat. Ghost can't help it. He reaches up, his gloved hand shaking lightly, cupping your cheek. You close your eyes, leaning into his touch. He takes a moment to study your face, memorizing each little spot and the curve of your lips. The part of him which was trying to keep his composure has now officially lost the battle. "You make it real hard to stay professional.", he murmurs. "I hope so.", your eyes flutter open again. You inch closer to his face, the only barrier between you is his mask and the balaclava underneath. With gentle fingers you tug on the black fabric.

Simon gasps softy, your touch sending small jolts of electricity through him. He feels his heart racing as you push up the balaclava, only enough to reveal his chapped lips and his chin, dusted with blonde stubble. He can feel your breath on his skin, only millimeters away. The anticipation is killing him, he can't wait any longer. He needs to feel you, to taste you. Without much of a warning, he pulls you closer, crushing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss. A soft gasp escapes you as your eyes flutter shut. One of your hands rests on his chest, holding on as if your life depended on it. Ghosts mind is consumed by your taste, your warmth, the weight of your body on his. His hands wander up to your waist, holding you steadily in place. The snow and the cold are the last things on your mind right now, not when Simon tastes so deliciously of cigarettes and spearmints. His presence engulfs you entirely, making you lose all feeling of time and space.

That is until Simons radio crackles on the floor next to you, "Alright you two, return to base for a debrief. Turn the radio off next time."

[soaplickerrr]

Could you possibly write something for Niki along the lines of the reader is tired from uni and he comes home and they’ve fallen asleep at the coffee table doing an essay and he helps them get ready for bed and then maybe a soft cuddle moment with them talking about their days and eventually the reader falls back asleep to Riki rubbing their back and holding them? Also don’t forget to drink water and take care of yourself and that you are amazing!!!!

Sweet Dreams

Non Idol! Nishimura Riki / Niki x Reader

It’s late and the apartment is dark, save for the warm hue of the desk lamp, its light spilling across the living room.

It shades a soft halo around your form that’s hunched over the coffee table, where you’ve been working restlessly for hours.

Your scattered surroundings were proof to the hours of work, tumbled notebooks, crumpled pieces of paper, and the laptop screen before you- the essay still open, cursor blinking.

You couldn’t recall falling asleep- just your heavy head laid against your arm, an ache in every inch of your body from complete exhaustion.

University has been unforgiving, one assignment after another, and those deadlines seem to always be hanging over your head.

But none of that matters right now, as the night quiets, your worn-out body finally gives in.

The jingling of keys in the door barely reaches the apartment as Niki steps inside.

He stops and looks, eyes softening, taking in the scene in front of him, you’re fast asleep, still in the middle of your work.

A little smile tugs at a corner of his mouth as he sets his bag down quietly, his feet falling light as he walks over with care to not wake you.

He drops to his knees beside you, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair back behind your ear, his fingers linger for a moment.

You look so peaceful, he thinks, the faint crease still in your brow as if even in sleep, you're worrying about the work you left unfinished.

"Y/N," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as he leans in closer. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

You stir, fluttering your eyes open, and the first thing you see is Niki's face, that soft smile, the warmth in his gaze that makes the stress of the day seem like it belongs to another world.

For a moment, you’re puzzled, the fogginess of your sleep makes everything seem dreamlike. His hand on your shoulder anchors you though, the touch soft, reassuring.

"Niki?" you mumble, rubbing your eyes as you sit up, half-asleep.

"Yeah, it's me," he says with a soft chuckle, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you.

"You fell asleep at the table, pretty. C'mon, let's get you to bed."

You sigh and turn back to look at the scattered papers guiltily. "I didn't finish the essay," you murmur, but Niki just shakes his head and tugs you to your feet carefully.

"It'll still be there in the morning," he says softly. His thumb rubbing soft soothing circles against your waist. "Right now, you need rest. I'll even help you finish it in the morning, okay?"

You manage to give him a small nod, too tired to argue, he leads you down the hall, his arm around you, stable and reassuring.

You lean into him and let his warmth and presence strain away the stress weighing on you.

He helps you get comfortable once you’re in your bedroom, carefully and gently, as if he’s scared he might disturb the silence that has settled around you both.

Once you’re changed and in bed, Niki gets in beside you, wrapping himself around you, and holding you close to him, you nestle your head up against his chest.

His heartbeat is steady and calm beneath your ear, and you let yourself deflate into the comfort of his arms.

"Long day?" he asks in that soft, deep voice of his, nearly a whisper, as he starts running his fingers along your back with smooth, soothing strokes.

You nod, eyes half-lidded, slumping more against him. "So much work," you mutter, your voice trailing away as the tension has been pulled from your body, replaced instead by a comforting sleepiness. "Feels like… like it's never going to end."

He hums softly, his hand continuing its soothing stroke up and down your back, each stroke lulling you closer into sleep. "You're doing amazing, you know that?" he says, the tone of his voice warm and sincere.

"I see how hard you work, how much you put into everything… and I'm so so proud of you. Even when you don't finish everything, you're still doing the best you can."

You let his words wash over you, the small smile pulling at your lips as you lean closer, letting the heat and solidity of him calm you further.

"Thank you," you mumble, barely understandable once more as sleep pulls at you again. "I'm glad… you're here."

He chuckles low in his throat, shifting to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. "I'll always be here," he whispers, his hand slowing into soft, rhythmic rubs on your back, the touch lulling you back into a peaceful slumber.

Wrapped up in his arms as you drift off, your overwhelming thoughts displaced by the quiet and steady comfort of Niki's presence beside you.

This was kinda cute lolz :3

[petrichal]

obligatory "Oda thank you for sharing this world with us" post

[yary-t]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Strangers to Lovers, Vampire Dream of the Endless, Mortal Human Hob Gadling, Blood Drinking, Human/Vampire Relationship, Vampires can't get erections, Dubious Consent, With regards to the blood drinking not the sex, The sex is fully consensual, Suicidal Thoughts, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Morpheus is in a bad place emotionally, I did some googling but could not figure out whether I ought to tag this as PWP or porn with plot, These tags are making it look darker than it actually is

  Summary:

“Mate, you all right?”

Morpheus blinked at the man who'd addressed him, who’d extended a hand to hover near his shoulder, so close that he could feel the warmth emanating from it, but retaining enough distance that it did not send fire spiraling into him.

His brown eyes were kind, and overflowed with a concern Morpheus did not deserve.

This one.

[kangaracha]

wouldn't expect a lot of queenmaker until ~christmas time, which is not what i would like to say but my body is just telling me to ease up after november and i'm hitting that pre-holiday slump so we're just chillin. we're playing a game for the first time in six months. we're doing a puzzle. my eyes are really blurry rn so i think i'll go to bed.