#do your pets have accents

[secretagentsagainstwhatever]

very serious question

[sunspinecity]

50$ to print 10 of the same skin has always been so insane to me. you're telling me it's 50$ to print....only 10.....of a single skin....and that's normal. And not only is that normal, that's what's required for a skin shop. where ppl may not even sign up for 10 runs. and then you're left in the shitter with at minimum 1-4 skins nobody wanted (not to mention if some people decide not to pay afterward) that you have to just pray someone finds & buys on the auction house. And it's 50$. Uhuh. And then that's just the artist's issue and fault and we're gonna blame them instead of the fact that a 10 print run costs as much as groceries.

[rowarn]

EXPERIENCE (m.)

könig x inexperienced!reader

tags: age gap, acquaintances to lovers, afab!reader but gn

cw: loss of virginity, cunnilingus, fingering, hand riding (hear me out), pussyjob, talking u thru it, praise, pet names (liebling, little one), size kink/difference, handjob, reassurance/encouragement kink, wet&messy, konig is uncut hehe, squirting

note: konig is in his 40s and reader is in their 20s!

;in which you live in the same building as a really hot, older, military man

9.5k

When you met König, you never expected the harmless interactions to ever evolve into anything substantial. He lived somewhere in the same apartment building as you did, though you didn’t know where exactly. Most times, you would find him in the elevator or cross paths with him in the lobby. 

You knew he was in the military, most of the people living in the building were. It was close to the nearby base and had rent for a damn good price. The way he carried himself, back straight and body seemingly always at attention gave him away. 

He was massive, standing much taller above you with broad shoulders and thick thighs. A lot of the time he was wearing a hood over his face, mostly when he was coming or going from work – which was seemingly all the time. 

On the few occasions that you caught him without the hood, you could tell it was him solely by his build. There was no one else in the building who looked anything like that. 

He was handsome, in a rugged, tired kind of way. He was a lot older than you were expecting him to be – probably in his early to mid forties, you guessed. He had salt and pepper hair, fine lines etched onto his face, and stern eyes from (no doubt) many years in the military. 

You had never properly spoken to him before. Hell, you didn’t even know his name. You greeted him when you saw him and smiled in passing when you made eye contact. Occasionally, he would respond in an accented voice that you longed to ask about. 

The event that changed everything was a fun little night out you had with your friends. You had maybe had a bit too much to drink before finally conceding at your friends’ behest to call yourself an Uber. 

By the time you reach your apartment building, you’re still very buzzed and starting to feel a little nauseous. You stumble to the elevator and impatiently slam your thumb on the button over and over again, losing count as you do. 

“It’s not going to come any faster,” an accented voice drones next to you, nearly making you jump out of your skin. 

“You scared the shit out of me,” you wheeze, hand over your racing heart.

“You should be more aware of your surroundings then,” he says, “Especially when you are intoxicated.”

You huff through your nose, growing annoyed at the prospect of being lectured. The elevator grants mercy and dings before slowly opening. There's a rowdy group of men inside who quickly walk out of the elevator, seedy eyes immediately finding their way to you, scanning your body up and down as they pass by. 

You feel that nauseous pit in your stomach twist as you finally step onto the elevator. Nothing to ruin your jovial mood from a nice evening more than a group of leering men. Living in an apartment building filled with soldiers, it wasn’t unusual to have them stare at you – didn’t mean you liked it. 

You cross your arms over your chest as König steps on, the elevator creaking and groaning under his immense weight. 

“What floor?” he asks softly, glancing at you over his shoulder as he stands in front of the button panel.

“3,” you mumble, leaning against the back wall. You watch him punch in the 3 but not anything else, making you raise a brow, “You live on 3 too?”

He shakes his head but doesn’t say another word. You narrow your eyes at his back, if he feels you looking, he doesn’t give it away. The elevator is plunged into silence aside from the quiet sound of the shaft moving up and up until it dings and the doors slide open. 

He steps out first, standing in the threshold to keep the door from closing as you push yourself off the wall. Your head swims for a second and you stumble past him, keenly aware of his eyes on you. 

You wander down the hallway, glancing over your shoulder to see him slowly stalking behind you. His arms hand limply by his sides, his fists clenched into fists but he remains a respectable distance. 

“Why are you following me?” you ask, unable to hide the nervousness in your tone, “You said you don’t live on this floor.”

“Young recruits are tools,” he supplies simply, “I am making sure you make it to your door without any problems.”

That causes you to hum and for a little flutter in your stomach to manifest. You brush it off and pause at your door, pulling your keys out so unlock it. You push it open and step in, letting it hit your back to keep it from closing as you turn to look at your companion.

“Thank you…um…” you clear your throat and look at him expectantly. 

“König,” he supplies simply, arms tucked behind his back, making him look even wider. 

“König…” you repeat, feeling the words on your tongue, “Interesting name. Where are you from?”

“Austria,” he replies almost mechanically, “I will be going now.”

You don’t get to say another word before he’s stalking away and down the hallway, heavy footfalls practically rumbling the ground beneath him. You slowly close your door and lean against it, hand placed over your racing heart – when did that start up? 

You blame it on your inexperience when it comes to men. You’d had a couple boyfriends, pretty standard for someone in their 20s. Your problem was none of them were ever good enough. The over-zealous types who wanted their dicks sucked as gratitude for paying for dinner. Then would turn around and either give you the most lackluster head of your life, barely any foreplay before trying to shove his dick into an unprepared hole. 

You had never given them the chance, once they showed they were only interested in their own pleasure and would more than likely not even think about touching your clit or angling for your g-spot, you stopped them and kicked them out. More often than not, you woke up to a break-up text because of course you did. 

So that was how you were still a virgin and more or less, at this point, given up on dating. You’d been single now for the better part of 6 months and had no intentions of giving any men your own age a shot at it. 

But…you hadn’t considered an older man. Like König. 

At that thought, you pushed yourself off the door and kicked your shoes off, intent on taking a shower to hopefully wash these drunken thoughts out of your head. So he’d been nice and walked you to your door, no questions asked, so what? Didn’t make him any different from men your age. 

As you made it to the bathroom, you felt your stomach finally churn for the final time and found your head buried in the toilet. You cursed yourself for not listening to your friends, who apparently knew your own limits better than you did. 

The next time you see König is just a few days later. You walk into the apartment’s gym on the ground floor, and there he is – sitting lifting weights. You pause when you see him, feeling that traitorous flutter in your chest you were sure you puked out that night you had learned his name. 

You watch the way his biceps flex, bulging so large you’re sure not even two of your hands could wrap around the girth of it. There were some scars littering his skin, most of them white and raised from age but a few that still had that new tissue pink color. You also noticed some fading tattoos encircling his forearms. Fuck, he was hot. 

You hung your head and scampered over to the treadmill, intent on getting your cardio up. 

As you run, you notice a group waltz in, laughing and shoving each other. You glance over at them, rolling your eyes when some of them make eye contact and nudge their buddies. They lean in close and whisper to each other with shit eating grins on their faces and you find frustration building up so you try to ignore them. 

“Quiet,” you hear an accented voice snap, full of authority, “You are disturbing everyone.”

The rowdy young men quiet down immediately and clear their throats, “S-Sorry, Colonel,” one of them utters.

‘Colonel? Is that high ranking?’ you find yourself wondering, making a mental note to look that up later. 

Either way, König manages to make the gym peaceful once again and you finish your workout with no other hitches. 

You grab your towel and dab at the sweat on your face and neck as you swiftly make your way out of the gym, completely unaware of the shadow following closely behind. 

You slow to a stop at the elevator, punching the button to call it as you sip on your water bottle, mindlessly going over what else you need to do with your day. The shadow behind you remains stagnant, still and silent as it lurks behind your unsuspecting form as the elevator opens and you step on. 

He follows, hefty weight causing the elevator to groan as usual. That gets your attention and you jump, placing a delicate hand over your racing heart just like you had before, eyes wide in shock at his appearance.

“You’re doing it on purpose now!” you whine at him and he has to fight back a smile at it. 

“I told you that you needed to pay more attention to your surroundings,” he replies smoothly, pressing the 3 button for you before pressing 5 for himself. 

“How is a guy as big as you able to be so quiet?” you ask softly, making note of the floor he lives on. 

“Years of training,” he gives a quick response that you hum at. There is a beat of silence before he finds himself speaking again, “You never gave me your name.”

He sees the way you look at him in surprise and he almost wishes he could rip the words from the air as soon as he says them. He doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea that he actually wants to get to know you. 

But you smile softly and give him your name with a kind nod of your head before the elevator grants him mercy and dings at the arrival on your floor.

“See you around, König,” you say as you step off. 

He doesn’t respond. 

Once back in the safety of your apartment, you find yourself going through the entire interaction in your head over and over again. Your heart races as you think back on him. 

It's as you’re making dinner for yourself that you finally have the coherent thought of revelation that you may have a crush on König. 

The revelation is almost enough to have you groaning out of frustration into the quiet sanctity of your apartment but you manage to refrain. But you can’t deny you don’t quite know what to do about it now. You had sworn off of men but…that was men your own age. König was…older than you, surely at least 15 years your senior, possibly more. You figure it couldn’t hurt to ask him out for some coffee one of these days. 

Except, the next time you see König is almost 2 weeks later. You don’t see hide nor hair of him at all. It definitely puts a damper on your confidence and you almost think your crush was just a fleeting little thing and for that you’re grateful for. 

Until the elevator opens one day and there he is. He’s wearing his hood but his eyes look even more exhausted than usual – beyond the general tiredness that comes with age. You carefully step on, joining him in the downward descent to the lobby. It’s just the two of you and feel that fluttering in your chest start up again and your hands begin to sweat. You scour your brain for something to say — anything to start up a conversation after so long of not seeing him.

“Haven’t seen you around,” you mutter softly. He hums softly in acknowledgement but doesn’t supply much of a response beyond that, “Where have you been?” you try again.

“Deployed,” he finally responds after several seconds of silence. 

You can’t find any way to respond or keep the conversation going but it’s sure that he has no intentions of doing so anyway. Still, it surprised you that he had been deployed, you hadn’t considered that. It made sense now that you thought about it. 

The elevator opened and you both stepped out. He walked much faster than you, beelining out of the apartment and you briefly considered letting him go but another part of you wanted to stop him and ask him out. 

You cursed to yourself and jogged forward, calling his name. He stopped in his tracks at the sound of you calling for him. He looks down at you over his nose, a burning gaze that makes your nervousness spike. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good time after all. 

“What?” he snaps, clearly impatient.

“Oh um…” you clear your throat and slow to a stop, “N-Nevermind…”

He huffs through his nose and resumes storming out of the apartment. You find yourself sighing deeply, following his lead. When you get outside, he’s nowhere to be seen and you once again find yourself wondering how a man of his size is so good at not being seen. 

A few nights later, the weekend rolls around and you find yourself standing in that damned elevator with him once again. He’s maskless and it gives you pause before stepping on. 

It’s silent for a few seconds before he says, “I am sorry for the other day.”

You look up at him with wide eyes, “Um…what do you mean?”

“I was not polite towards you,” he answers, casting a soft gaze towards you that makes your heart flutter, “I took my bad mood out on you and I should not have. So…I am sorry.”

“Oh…” you clear your throat and give him a smile, “it’s alright, König. I shouldn’t have bothered you with something silly.”

He frowns at you, “Something silly?”

“It’s nothing,” you assure him, smiling kindly at him. 

He wants to ask you what you mean but the elevator door opens and you step out, making him realize that you reached your floor. You wave your goodbye to him as the doors close and he lets his head fall back with a sigh once he’s alone.

Yet another bad day weighed heavily on his shoulders when you came waltzing into the elevator, bright eyed and happy. His fists were clenched behind his back and he did his best to avoid looking at you, hoping you would take the hint and not speak to him like you usually did. It hadn’t been but a day since he had apologized to you for making an ass of himself in the lobby and he didn’t want to do the same thing so soon after. 

But then you say something that sends it all crumbling down.

“Hey…” you start, fidgeting your fingers in front of you, “Would you like to get coffee sometime? Maybe lunch?”

You ask it so sweetly and softly. For some reason, that grates on his nerves even more than anything.

“What?” he snaps, cold and sharp in a way that makes you visibly freeze. 

You look up at him like a deer caught in the headlights, “Um…w-well, I just…it’s…I would like to…”

Your nervous babbling only serves to piss him off even more as his glare narrows down on you, making you shrink in on yourself where you stand. Suddenly, the elevator feels much smaller than it had ever before – even with him filling most of the space as usual. 

“You want to go out with me?” he spits, his accent growing stronger with every venomous word that he can’t seem to stop from spilling from his lips, “I am twice your age, what the hell makes you think I would want to date you?”

You swallow thickly around the lump forming in your throat and bite back the tears that threaten to form. He hears you sniffle and promptly snaps his head to look at you. Under the ugly, yellow light of the elevator he can see the tears trickling down your cheeks and he suddenly wants to slap himself into the next decade. 

He wants to open his mouth so badly and apologize for being so cruel to you. He knows he could have told you no in a much softer way rather than making your feelings seem like something revolting or stupid. But the elevator doors open and you’re slipping out before he even has a chance. He decides not to chase after you. 

It’s for the best, he assures himself. 

It only takes a few days before he’s vehemently regretting not stopping you then and there. 

It happens on a Friday night, the elevators are closing just as a hand jumps between them, sending them opening again. You step on, giggling in a way that tells him you’re just a little inebriated. You freeze when you see him standing there, maskless and cold gaze as he watches you tug a young man into the elevator behind you – clearly a little drunk himself. 

You pointedly stand in front of König, keeping your back to him to show that you’re not even willing to look at him. König feels his heart clench painfully in his chest before it’s replaced by a wash of anger as he watches the young man paw at you. He slips his hand down your back to grope at your ass, making you giggle breathlessly before you’re batting his hands away with a little bat of your lashes. 

König wishes he had an excuse to step off the elevator at the same time as you – anything to prolong his time with you. He’s never felt the desire to cockblock someone more in his whole entire life. 

But he doesn’t move. He just watches you step off without a single glance in his direction before you’re vanishing around the corner and the elevator doors close silently, leaving König alone with his thoughts. 

You couldn’t believe you brought this guy to your apartment. You especially couldn’t believe you were letting him strip you of your clothes and paw at your body like some kind of mindless dog. You had sworn to yourself that you were not going to fall into this trap again – a 20-something year old guy buying you a drink, complimenting you a little, teasing and groping you in the club until you caved and brought him home. It wasn’t your first go around – and it always ended the same way.

But you were drunk and you needed to get your mind off that stupid, giant Austrian military man that lived in your building. And wouldn’t you know it, he was on the elevator as soon as you got in. It was almost enough to sober you up, your wounded pride and feelings still so prevalent even after a few days of nursing the hurt. 

You could only hope that this would relieve you of your hurt feelings. 

Unfortunately, you quickly realized that this was a mistake. 

As soon as he started groping you, spreading your legs and trying to stuff his cock inside you without so much as a single finger of prep – you knew this wasn’t going to happen.

You tried to lead him, thinking maybe he was a little too tipsy to actually think about it.

“How about a little prep, hm?” you ask softly.

He pauses what he’s doing and you can practically see the gears turning in his head, “Oh…you’re one of those…”

He says it in disgust and you feel yourself bristle in annoyance, “One of what?”

“You want me to eat you out, right?” he scoffs, rolling his eyes, “That shit’s gross, c’mon just let me stick it in, already.” It was that moment that you felt any minute desire you had to have sex evaporate. 

You don’t even bother walking the guy out, leaving him to limp to the elevator in shame with a hard cock and blue balls.

It takes you a few days to find it in yourself to crawl out of your apartment. The only reason you actually do leave is because you’re in need of food – your little supply of ramen has depleted and you have to bite the bullet. 

After your little shopping trip at the nearby convenience store, you find yourself waiting for the elevator when a dark shadow looms over you. You feel a pit of dread in your stomach as you smell the musky, sweet scent of his cologne. But you don’t dare acknowledge his presence. 

He doesn’t give you long to ignore him, however, before he’s talking to you.

“How was your little date?” he asks, voice dripping in a tone of condescension that immediately puts you on edge. 

“What’s it to you?” you hiss, still not daring to look at him. 

He scoffs, “You went and found yourself a little toy to play with awfully fast. Seems your interest in me wore off quickly, no?”

That gets you to finally turn around, meeting his cold, indifferent gaze with your hot, teary one. You miss the look of surprise that flashes over his face.

“What is your problem?” you snap, “You rejected me, what the hell do you care what I do? And for your information, the date was shit. He was shit, like I should have expected any difference. God, I really am a fucking idiot,” you find yourself rambling, a lamenting spiel that you can’t seem to stop no matter how badly you want to, “Just like every prick before him, he was selfish and revolting. I thought I could finally get fucking laid and just call it a day but no, my stupid standards are too high and I find myself asking out the hot older guy in my building only for him to find me revolting!”

By the time you’re done ranting, the doors open and you storm out of the elevator, angrily gripping your bag of groceries. König is frozen where he stands, watching you leave as the doors slowly close – almost begging him to put his hand between them and stop them so he can chase after you. 

But he doesn’t.

It’s creeping up on midnight when there’s a knock on your apartment door. You’re curled up on the couch, watching some random show that you weren’t really invested in but couldn’t be bothered to change. 

The knock makes you jump, startled, but get up nonetheless. A quick peek in the peephole tells you exactly who it is before you even open it. 

You briefly consider not opening it period but find yourself opening it before you actually settle on a decision. 

König stands in front of you, a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand, looking comically small. The sight is almost enough to get you to crack a smile. Almost.

But the residual hurt from the last few interactions you’ve had with him is enough to keep you stoic. You raise a brow and you practically see his confidence falter. A pang of guilt goes through you at the sight and you step aside, waving him in with a quiet huff. 

He closes the door behind him softly, kicking his boots off as he watches you wander into the living room. You take a seat on your couch, covering yourself with your throw blanket once again as you watch him wander in, gazing around at your decor before finally settling on you. 

“Um…” He clears his throat nervously and places the flowers on your coffee table, “I think that we should talk…”

“Should we?” you quip back.

He sighs, broad shoulders heaving with the movement before he takes a seat beside you, taking up a hefty amount of space on your small couch. 

“I want to apologize,” he says softly, folding his hands in his lap, “When you asked me out…I-I should not have spoken to you like that.”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, “If that’s all this is about, König, then you can go. I-I don’t really want to hear a half-assed apology about the way you rejected me. You’re not interested, let’s just move on from it. I’ll get over it.”

He shakes his head quickly and curses under his breath, a word you don’t understand – German, your brain supplies, helpfully.

“You are wrong,” he says, “I do not want you to get over it because I am interested.”

The gets you to perk up, eyes wide, “What do you mean? You said you–”

“I know what I said,” he mutters, “I am…twice your age…”

“So you mentioned before…” you reply.

“I do not think…you should be with someone old like me,” he continues softly, “You should be with someone your own age. That is what I thought. It is not that I don’t find you attractive; I think you’re sweet and lovely. But it's just…our age difference…”

“König,” you stop him from continuing, “I’m capable of making my own decisions.”

“I understand that but…” he trails off, casting a sideways glance across the room, away from you.

“I’ve tried dating men my own age, König,” you say, “It always ends the same – I send them home blue balled.”

He huffs out a laugh through his nose and finally sets his gaze back on you, “Why do you do that?”

“I don’t plan to…” you begin, running your hand along the soft fabric of your blanket, “it’s just that...I bring them home and then we start getting into it and it fucking sucks!”

“Sucks..?” The question is soft and drawn out. 

“He wants to fuck my throat and won’t even give me his fingers before trying to stick his dick in,” you spit, angrily glaring at the tv as you remember all your shit encounters, “I’ve never even let one of them go all the way.”

“You’re a virgin…?” he asks.

You shrug your shoulders, “I guess. I mean I’ve had shitty oral and stuff but…”

“I see…” he trails off, shifting in his seat, hands still folded in his lap, “Well, I would like to take you out for a date after all.”

You find a smile spreading across your face faster than you can stop it. You jump to your knees and throw your arms around his shoulders with a squeal of happiness, “Really? You mean it?”

He laughs breathlessly, a husky little sound that makes your heart race, “Does this weekend work for you?”

You eagerly nod your head and lean in. You catch the way his eyes widen briefly before your lips meet. You think he’s going to pull away from you but instead he cups the back of your head and deepens the kiss. 

You feel a shiver go through you at the feeling of his big, strong hand holding you there in the kiss. You couldn’t keep yourself from getting wet even if you wanted to. 

With your hands pressed against his firm chest, you toss one leg over his lap and find yourself seated on top of him. He breaks the kiss at that, hands migrating to your waist where he mindlessly strokes his thumb over the skin exposed by the way your shirt rode up.

You lean down and kiss him again and he groans against your mouth. You grind down against him in response to the throb that makes your pussy clench around nothing. You whimper into the kiss when he suddenly stops your movements with a firm grip. 

“We shouldn’t, liebling,” he whispers softly.

“Why not?” you whine, settling in his lips. You briefly realize that you can feel something hard beneath you and that makes you start dripping in your panties, “Don’t you want to?”

“I-I do…” he assures, “I just…want to properly court you…”

He couldn’t get any sweeter if he tried. Still, you quip back with a teasing little smile, “Wow, you are a lot older than me, huh?”

You feel giddy when the sweet look in his eyes melts away into something darker. One hand clasps the back of your head before he pulls you in for a much rougher kiss. You keen as you feel the way he exudes experience – the kiss like nothing you have ever experienced before. 

The way he moves his lips and slips his tongue into your mouth to taste your mouth, it’s not gross or too much the way it sometimes is with men who don’t know what they’re doing.you find yourself moaning into the kiss before you even realize it. 

He pulls away at that, a heady look in his pretty, blue eyes. You find yourself briefly lamenting the loss of his mouth but that thought disappears quickly when he moves to begin peppering kisses along the length of your neck, making sure to nip at your jaw and kiss your shoulder. 

He tugs the hem of your t-shirt down just a bit so he can have access to your collar bones, nipping and kissing there as well. Your head falls back as you surrender yourself to him completely. 

“Oh,” he coos softly, lips brushing against your ear, “You are just so sweet for me, aren’t you, little one?”

You practically whimper at his words as his hands slip under the hem of your shirt, fingertips barely grazing your skin. You squirm in his lap as his touch tickles you on his way up to your breasts, skirting over your ribs before fully cupping them in his roughened palms. 

You sigh into the quiet room, arching your back to press deeper into his hands. His thumbs graze over your nipples and you moan. 

Sure, you’ve had guys grope your tits before but it had never felt like this. The mindless squishing and squeezing was replaced with soft cupping and gentle brushes over your nipples until they hardened followed by pinches and flicks that left you absolutely dripping in your panties.

He takes mercy on you quickly, one hand sliding down your body to slide under your sweatpants and beneath your panties. Your hands grip his shoulders, blunt nails biting into them when one broad finger slides down, the sticky noise of your folds separating enough to send heat rushing to your cheeks.

“You’re so wet,” he whispers in a tone so soft you almost think it wasn’t meant for you, but then he tacks on, “Do you hear it?” 

“Y-Yeah,” you whimper, embarrassment flooding through you at the sticky, clicking noises that come along with his prodding, “N-Never been this wet before, König…”

That causes him to pause, blue eyes gazing at you through his eyelashes, “Is that so..?” You desperately nod your head, slowly beginning to rock your hips against his hand, but he doesn’t move again and you whine, “Has anyone ever made you cum on their fingers?”

“J-Just me,” you answer breathlessly without a second thought. 

He hums thoughtfully and after a second, he begins moving his hand again. This time he introduces more fingers, spreading your folds apart with his index and ring so he can pet your hardened clit with his middle. The feeling makes tremors run through your body and he huffs a laugh, “I guess I will show you what it feels like then, yeah?”

He doesn’t give you a moment to think let alone answer before his middle finger is sliding into you. The one digit alone is enough to stretch you, given how massive he is in whole. He crooks his finger forward and a moan rips from your chest when he hits that gooey little spot inside you. 

“A-Another, please, König!” you beg shamelessly.

“Shh,” he hushes, shaking his head, “Let me work you open on this and then you can have more.”

You practically wail in despair, letting your forehead drop forward onto his shoulder. You suddenly wish you had rid yourself of your clothes so you could see the way his hand worked against you. All you could see now was the faint movement under your pants but the mental image of that thick finger inside you, slick with your juices was enough to have you clenching desperately around him. 

After a moment, he adds a second finger and you feel like you’re in heaven. The stretch is phenomenal and his palm bumps against your clit every time he sinks them into the last knuckle. 

However, before he can set a rhythm to really start getting you off, he stops. You angrily lean back and glare at him – the sight has his lips quirking up.

“Ride my fingers,” he orders you, leaving no room for arguing.

You can tell he’s not going to give you anything unless you take it for yourself so you sit up higher on your knees so you can have the clearance to move. Your hands remain on his shoulders, clinging to him for stability as you clumsily begin to rock your hips. The only time you’ve ever done these movements is when you tried humping your pillow once after seeing it in some porn. It didn’t really do much for you so you never tried again. 

König can tell your movements are clumsy and it makes his cock throb against his thigh. He helps you along, crooking his fingers just right to grind the tips against that sweet little spot inside you. It makes you moan beautifully and he files the noise away. 

His other hand comes up to grip your hip, steadying you as you continue to hump his fingers. You’re growing more and more frustrated as you quickly realize that you’re not able to make it feel as good as he had earlier. The tearful little gaze you give him has him breaking, using the hand on your hip guiding you into more seamless movements. 

“Like this, liebling,” he directs softly, “Grind down like that, mhm, give that little clit some love, yeah?”

You become increasingly breathless as you work yourself higher and higher under his expert guidance. He can feel your juices dripping down his wrist, the snug hold around his fingers growing even tighter with every little rut of your hips. 

“You’re so precious,” he coos, feeling the way you clench up at the sound of his voice. Your body is so honest, telling him what you like without you having to say anything, “You’re going to cum, I can feel it. Be good and give it to me, yeah?”

You surge forward and desperately kiss him, one hand reaching down and gripping his wrist. It takes only a few more, desperate thrusts of your hips for you to topple over that edge. Your body trembles on his lap and you cry out in pleasure. 

He moans alongside you, watching with rapt attention as you cum all over his fingers just like he told you to.

You slump against him as you come down and he pulls his hands out of your pants. He presses a kiss against your temple in silent praise, hands rubbing your back to soothe you through the aftershocks that run through your body.

You lean back and meet his gaze, an opportunity he takes to slip his cum-soaked fingers into his mouth. At that, you surge forward and kiss him, running your hands down his body to pull at the button of his jeans. He grunts into your mouth, brows furrowing at the release of pressure when you tug the zipper down.

You’re absolutely speechless when you finally pull his cock free. He watches in poorly concealed pride as you gawk at the length in your hand. You give him a slow and tedious tug, watching the foreskin roll over his head, forcing a bead of precum from the tip. 

“You’re so…big,” you whisper breathlessly.

“I know,” he grunts, unable to hide the ebbs of pleasure you give him as you play with his cock.

“Cocky,” you tease softly, continuing with your soft touches. 

“N-Not cocky,” he whispers, licking his suddenly dry hips, “Just aware of my size.”

You drop your eyes back down to his cock, hot and heavy in your hand. Your fingers don't even touch each other when wrapped around him. Precum drips from the tip, leaking down the side to meet your palm and aid in the movements. 

He leans his head back against the couch, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows. It wasn’t often that he got to indulge in someone else’s hand. Your palm was so soft, much softer than his own, and delicate in your inexperience. 

He reaches down with one his hands, wrapping around yours to make you squeeze tighter, “Just like that, little one, that’s how I like it.”

You could have drooled as he said it. His hand dwarfed yours and the sight made you clench around nothing, more slick leaking into your already ruined panties. 

“Let me see you, liebling,” he whispers breathlessly, fingers hooking on the hem of your top.

You release his cock to lift your arms, letting him tug the fabric over your head. His hands are on your tits immediately, mouthing at your nipples without wasting a second.

“So pretty,” he coos with his mouth full, rolling his tongue over your nipple before nipping the bud with his lips.

He switches to the other one, wrapping his mouth around it, sucking sharply before pulling back, taking your nipple with him before releasing it with a pop. You watch with lidded eyes as he drools all over your tits. His cock flexes and twitches against your thigh as he plays with your tits.

Suddenly, with a firm grip on your waist, your whole world flips and you find yourself on your back on the couch with König on top of you. You lick your lips at the sight of his big, broad form hovering above you, caging you in as he leans down to kiss you again.

You sigh contentedly into his mouth, threading your fingers through his short, messy hair, using the grip to pin him against you. He lets you kiss him to your heart's content, only pulling back when you need air – a string of spit connecting your lips that breaks when he leans back between your thighs. 

His fingers took into the band of your pants, tugging them down, taking your panties with them until you’re completely bared before him. He’s still completely clothed aside from his cock that rests against his abdomen, occasionally twitching as his eyes rake over your nude body.

“Tell me, liebling,” he says, strong hands running up the length of your thighs, “Has anyone ever eaten you out?”

You clumsily nod your head.

“Was it good?” he asks, biting back a smile when you shake your head.

“Guys always think it’s gross or something…” you whisper softly.

He hums softly, “That is because you’ve been messing with stupid little boys.”

“You gonna eat me out, König?” you ask him, biting your lip in a poorly concealed excited grin.

“Would you like me to?” as he asks, he slowly spreads your legs open. The position causes your folds to spread apart, opening you up for his greedy eyes.

You feel your breathing speed up as he kisses down your body, starting with your lips and ending right above your clit. You feel the little bud twitch in anticipation as he tongues the skin above it, giving you a sneak peek on what is so close to it. 

“Tell me,” he says.

You whine, “Y-Yes, I want you to eat me out, König!”

He chuckles softly but doesn’t bother teasing you anymore. He meets your gaze and moves his tongue lower finally, sliding the flat of the muscle of your clit. You gasp and toss your head back into the cushions, eyes rolling back as he noisily slurps at your cunt. 

“O-Oh god!” you wail, hiccuping out noises of pleasure that you can’t seem to quiet.

König is in heaven. It’s not every day that he gets the opportunity to eat such a pretty, inexperienced little cunt. Your reactions to everything are so strong and loud. Your pussy is loud too, squelching in the room, making an intoxicating melody with your moans. He moans against you, swallowing down everything your messy little pussy drools out for him.

“Th-That feels so good, König!” you sob, kicking your feet mindlessly against his back as he captures your clit in his mouth, suckling at the bud, “You’re so good, so good, oh god!”

Never in a million years did you think being eaten out could feel this good. The mindlessly, halfhearted licks and kisses you had received in the past did nothing to prepare you for what it felt like to really have a man’s tongue on you. 

He pulls away suddenly, giving you a moment to actually breathe, “You taste so sweet, liebling.”

“König…” you whimper, looking up at him with lidded eyes, “Please, please don’t stop.”

You tug at his hair and attempt to pull his mouth back down on your pussy. You don’t care how pathetic and desperate it is, he has given you a taste of pleasure you’d never experienced before.

He has the audacity to laugh at you, brushing your hands away so he can sit up straight again. He scoots closer and you realize then that he is not planning to continue and it practically draws a sob out of you. 

“We can focus on that another time, liebling,” he promises, making you clench around nothing, more slick dribbling out for him to see, “You are so messy, you know that? Never had someone make such a mess all over me before. You must really enjoy being eaten out, huh?”

You feel your face burn hot with shame at his words, shyly hiding your face away. He smiles softly at that, “Nothing to be ashamed of, liebling…I love it, I do.”

“Really?” you quiver out the question and he nods his head.

“Yes, little one,” he coos, “I’m glad that I can make it feel good for you.”

You practically feel hearts in your eyes as he says that. You don’t think you’ve ever had a man tell you that he actually cared and enjoyed your pleasure. That was the final nail in the coffin for you – you really should have been going after older men all this time.

He disrupts your thoughts by suddenly stripping his shirt off. Your mouth goes completely dry at the sight of his bared skin – firm muscle, hair speckled all over his torso, and numerous scars from untold stories of his time in the military. You take note of the faded tattoos that become visible on his pecs and biceps; you’d always noticed the tattoos on his arms but you’d never really been given the opportunity to look. 

“You’re so handsome,” you whisper.

He pauses while ridding himself of his jeans and smiles, “Thank you, little one.”

When he’s completely bare to you, you slowly rake your eyes down the entirety of his newly exposed body. His cock hangs heavy under its own weight, glimmering at the tip with his precum. You’d never been with a guy who was uncut but the sight made you drool. 

“Now, liebling,” he says suddenly, getting your attention. He scoots closer, spreading your legs as wide as he can before laying the hefty weight of his cock against your cunt. It’s hot and throbbing and your entire body trembles at the sight, “You have to understand something.”

“What..?” you ask, breathless and unable to look away from his cock. 

“I am not like those little boys you were running around with,” he explains, hips slowly beginning to rut against you, length parting your folds and rubbing over your clit, drawing a sweet little moan from you, “I don’t stick my cock in a tight little cunt and blow my load, do you know what I’m saying?”

You shake your head, too lost in the sight and feeling of him practically fucking the outside of your pussy. He doesn’t stop the mind-numbing rolls of his hips, letting you get lost in the feeling of him stroking over your clit, saturating him in your cum. 

“That means,” he sighs, reaching up to grip your throat, forcing you to look at him as he leaned over your body, sandwiching his cock between the two of you, “I don’t cum easily, liebling. I am a grown man, I will fuck you until you cannot cum anymore. Are you prepared for that?”

The fact this man was so confident in his abilities in bed has you clenching around nothing again. You were sure the guys you almost slept with would never have been able to have the pure confidence that came from König. He knew what he was doing – he knew how to make you cum and he was going to use that experience well. You knew his age played a factor in how long it would take him to cum and you couldn’t wait to experience it.

“I want it so bad, König,” you beg softly, “Please?”

“Very good,” he praised, “You’re so good for me.”

He finally gripped the base of his cock and you watched excitedly as he pressed the tip against your entrance. You reached down and wrapped your arms around your knees, pulling them back for him so he could comfortably begin pressing into you.

The stretch is beyond anything you’d ever felt before. You knew his cock was big but watching the bulbous tip press against you and slowly spread you wide open was something else entirely. It burned in a way that had you wincing, furrowed brows making your face pinch up, making König pause. 

“It’s okay, little one,” he whispers, bringing a big thumb up to roll over your hard little clit, “Just relax for me, don’t clench up or it will hurt more.”

“I-It’s so big, König!” you wail helplessly, tearily staring up at him as he methodically works you open on his cock.

“I know,” he assures, still stroking your clit with the pad of his thumb, “But you can take it.”

You tearfully nod your head and do your best to relax your body, letting yourself sink into the couch. 

“Good, liebling, very good,” he coos, “Just let me in, nice and slow. Doesn’t it feel nice? The little burn of being stretched open but the pleasure of having this pretty little clit played with? Just lay back and enjoy it, little one.”

He’s right, of course. The burn aches, yes, but the pain and pleasure mixes the more he rubs your clit. You clench around him, an involuntary reaction that causes the head of his cock to finally pop in. Your eyes widen as you watch your cunt swallow it and with a perfectly timed tap against your clit, your back arches and you’re cumming.

“O-Oh König!” you squeal, eyes rolling back into your head as you cum around the head of his cock and nothing else.

“Oh, that’s good,” he grins, “That’s perfect, little one.”

As you come down with a tremble in your thighs, you finally fix your gaze on him once again.His eyes are lidded and pupils are blown so wide you can’t even tell they’re blue anymore. 

“That looked like a good one,” he comments almost flippantly before he rolls his hips forward, “Now you’re nice and ready for me.”

You choke on a gasp as he rolls his hips forward, fitting half of his cock inside your still spasming cunt. Your cum coats him in a slick sheen that aides in allowing him to pull back and slide back in, settling on fucking you on half his cock.

Your mouth falls open and you watch as a thick, milky ring forms around that fat middle part of his shaft, “M-More, König! Please!”

He knows you want all of him, want to know what it’s like to feel all of him stuffed deep inside you. But he knows you’re not quite ready for that yet, fucked out of your head from the intense orgasm he had just given you with ease.

“Not yet, liebling,” he coos, keeping his pace slow and steady, “Let’s work you open a little bit more, yeah?”

“No,” you whine, “Please, I want it all, König.”

“Aww, I know you do, little one,” he pants, already feeling dizzy from spearing you on his cock, “But I know what’s good for you, just listen to me and be good, okay?”

“Okay…” you pitifully whimper, sinking back into the couch. 

You abandon your hold on your legs, letting them rest around his hips limply now. He continues moving like that, inching deeper and deeper into you with every thrust. Your cunt makes embarrassingly loud squishing noises the move he works his hips against you. 

Before you know it, you’re watching with wide eyes and an open mouth as his pelvis presses against yours. Your eyes roll back in your head and your toes curl in pure pleasure as you finally experience the entirety of everything König has to offer. 

You’re speared wide open and the head knocks against your cervix painfully but the little bit of pain only makes the pleasure that much sweeter. 

“There we go, little one,” he coos sweetly, “I’m so proud of you, took all of my cock so well.”

He’s so big that he presses against every sweet little spot inside you without even trying. But, oh, his experience is crystal clear in the way he moves. He may be naturally gifted with a nice, fat cock but he knew how to use it.

Seamless, rhythmic thrusts had your brain going fuzzy before you even knew what was happening. You wouldn’t have been able to be quiet even if you wanted to. You knew you would be absolutely horrified to face your neighbors later because it would be impossible for them to not know you got fucked real good. 

Suddenly, König leaned over you, resting one forearm above your head to hold his weight off of you. The position caused his pelvis against your clit every time he sunk balls deep. Sticky strings of your cum stuck to his skin but he didn’t seem to even notice how wet you were.

But, oh, he did. He was absolutely obsessed with the way you creamed and gushed around him. A nice, pliant little pussy that was more than eager to swallow every inch of his cock.

The change in position had you grappling onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you wailed into his shoulder. Every mind-numbing snap of his hips hit that gooey, tender spot inside you that had your entire body twitching from the pleasurable stimulation. Your nails bit into his back and he briefly thought about the prospect of his recruits seeing them. 

“Are you going to cum for me?” he whispered in your ear, pressing a sweet kiss underneath your ear.

You nod your head, “Y-Yes! You’re gonna make me c-cum again, König!”

He chuckles under his breath, “I know I am, little one. I’m going to make you squirt.”

“C-Can’t,” you heave, twitchy legs kicking against his back.

“Yes, you can,” he assures, leaning away to sit up once again, “I can make you squirt, trust me.”

The whine you emit pitches into a squeal when he presses his palm against your lower stomach. You reached down in a panic to grab his wrist, not used to the strange feeling of him pressing down while he fucks you. 

“W-Wait!” you wail.

“Wait for what?” he asks, but doesn’t slow even a bit in his movements.

“F-Feels weird!” you gasp, hiccuping as you squeeze his wrist. 

“I know,” he grunts, brows furrowing at the feeling of you clenching around him, “It’s supposed to. Just lay back and let it happen, liebling. I’ve got you.”

Your whole body trembles and your jaw drops as you meet his gaze, a look of wonder crossing your face as you feel an orgasm like you’ve never felt before crash over your body. It’s long, drawn out and almost painful from how good it feels. You squeeze tight around him, your clit twitching and pulsing, completely untouched as he makes you squirt. It splashes against his abdomen and drips down his thighs. 

“There we go,” he laughs, a sound that sends a flush of embarrassment to your face, “See? I told you you could do it.”

“König…” you slur, feeling as if you’ve been fucked completely braindead.

It finally dawned on you that you would never, ever be fucked by anyone as good as König has fucked you. The first cock you’ve ever been stuffed full of and he made you squirt with terrifying ease. You were completely ruined, no dick would ever be able to compare to his. 

He sees the way your gaze turns completely enamored, looking at him like he hung the moon and stars. He grins, sharp canines poking out as he leans down again, kissing your temple.

“What is it, baby?” he coos, “Dick so good it’s got you in love?”

You keen at the pure condescension that drips from his voice. But he’s not wrong, you can practically feel the hearts in your eyes as you gaze up at him.

You have no idea how long you’ve been pinned beneath him, speared open on his cock while he fucks you absolutely stupid. You notice the change in him quite suddenly. His deep, concentrated thrust changed into something less calculated, messy almost. He loses his rhythm and falters in his pace.

“I’m going to cum, liebling,” he grunts, tone pitchy and gruff, “Where do you want it?”

“Inside!” you immediately cry, not missing a beat. He sees your eyes light up at the prospect of being filled up completely by his cum. You’re so sure it’s going to be a lot, you want to feel it drip out of you as a reminder that he had claimed you.

“Is it safe?” he huffs, but you can feel his cock twitch inside you at the idea of cumming inside you.

You desperately nod your head and he allows himself to fall over that edge. He teeters on his knees before collapsing with his hands on either side of your head. He no longer tries to thrust, settling for desperate, deep grinds that stirs his cock within your walls. Your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling, another orgasm washing over you before you even realize you’re that close.

“Oh, fuck,” König gasps, voice breaking as your orgasm sends him over the edge.

You’re panting and whimpering, trembling as you feel the heat of his load filling you up. His cock twitches with every spurt of cum. It’s the best orgasm he’s had in a long time, his balls throbbing with every pump of cum his cock spits out. 

It oozes from around the tight seal you have around him, dripping onto the couch. He’s trembling by the time the intense orgasm comes to an end. He opened his eyes, not even realizing he had closed them, to see you sleepily staring up at him with a dazed smile on your lips.

“Mein Gott…” he huffs out, lowering his body to press his lips against yours sweetly, “That was incredible, liebling.”

You beam under his praise and wrap your arms around his neck, “It was, wasn’t it?”

He chuckles and strokes his thumb against your cheek, “Let’s get cleaned up, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” you agree.

The care he gives you afterwards is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. He wipes your body down gently, careful not to rub your skin too hard. He stands with you in the shower, towering over you as he lathers your exhausted body with soap. 

“Can we do that again sometime?” You ask softly when he crawls into bed beside you – which you were shocked about, but didn’t complain.

He raises a brow and chuckles, “Yes, liebling. But not right now, I could not go another round so soon.”

You giggle and snuggle into his broad chest, practically preening when he wraps you up snug against him. You sigh softly and speak up again, “Can we…still go on that date..?”

He’s quiet for a moment before you feel a kiss on the top of your head, “Of course, liebling. I would love to.”

You smile to yourself and close your eyes, content to fall asleep wrapped up in his arms. The last thing you feel before you succumb to sleep is another soft kiss against your head. You realize, sleepily, that you’ve never felt more cared for by a man in your life.

property of rowarn; do not modify, repost, or translate.

[hischokehold]

Pretty Please?

older!könig with a pretty girl who won't leave him alone.

"Hello, mister officer." Pretty doe eyes nearly melt in his, tilted up so sweetly just so you could meet his gaze. Arms locked around his, clinging so gently to his biceps like you have been for the past two weeks.

König grumbled, barely taking a glance at you and your provocative outfit, teasing him. "Back for more, little girl? What did I tell you?" He tsks, baby blues barely evading your exposed cleavage pressed up against him.

"To focus on my studies. I am. Swear I am. Aced my exams, don't I deserve a reward?" You hummed, though he found your words rather hard to believe when you were so obviously checking him out.

You've been getting bold recently, haven't you, liebling?

It all started with a simple encounter, really; with König saving your drunken state from a group of men in his local bar. The perfect damsel in distress. He had pulled you by his hip, dragging you to the nearest bench to slip your glittery high heels right back into your feet. It was one of the rare moments where the colonel wasn't in the front lines. Still, he found himself a little pastime, using his influence to do some shady deals in the city's biggest club.

He didn't exactly expect to have such a cute thing clinging to him.

After a few minutes of listening to your rambling, cooing at you, König finally called you a cab and sent you off. A nice encounter, that's all it was.

Until he found you and your little self began throwing yourself at him almost every night, practically begging for his attention. "Just wanted to thank you for last time," You pout, batting your lashes at him. "Can't I do that?"

You could still see the remnants of blues in his knuckles from beating those bastards to a pulp. His big hands pat the small of your back in a reprimanding manner, shamefully reminding you that you were smitten by a man who you met barely a week ago.

"A thank you would suffice, darling."

König stood his ground. He had morals— what little he has left anyways. You're pretty, no doubt about that. He knew he shouldn't be taking advantage of such a fragile girl. But at the end of the day, he's just a man. Surely, you knew what would happen if you provoked him too much with your womanly charms?

"Y'shouldn't be playing around with men like me, little girl." He drawls, accent thick as he lightly taps your soft cheeks. Something clicked in you at the mention of the rather degrading pet name, pupils fully blown as you nodded at his every word, unable to register anything anymore.

An "I like you." comes from your plump, glossed up lips before you could even control it. Your 100th confession this week alone. Many would call you shameless and maybe you'd feel an ounce of it if you weren't so busy eyeing up his bulging biceps through his tight-fitted polo shirt.

He's intense, you think. And he makes you painfully shy.

"Hm?" He tilts his head, and he's so handsome, and gruff, and big that he has your mind spinning around in circles and doing backflips. Soft brows furrow as brutish hands cup your cheeks, lips puckering up into a small 'o'.

The tip of his tongue swipes down his lips while he indulges in the sight. A pretty girl, a young thing looking up at him all stupid and dazed out. Begging for an older man's attention. "How naughty." He tugs you closer, puffing cigarette smoke all over your pretty face, leaving coughing from the sudden intrusion in your nostrils.

He chuckles darkly, lightly patting the small of your back. "Be a good girl and run along, ja?" He flicks his cig to the side, putting its flame out with a stomp.

"N-No! please," you breathe, manicured fingertips finding your way to his belt, slithering along the lines. His eyes never leave yours, darkening as you inch closer to his manhood, leaving you dizzied.

There's hurried chattering in the background, a scantily clad group of three wore worried expressions on their faces, calling out your name.

"Ah, your friends are here, darling." You don't even have time to respond before he's nudging you out the dark alley, sending you off your merry wya but not before giving your rear a little slap.

"And keep that backside lookin' pretty for me."

[urmomschocolatemilk]

Thinking about animal lover Ghost and its the sweetest thing ever!!

Its pouring rain outside as Simon trudges through the streets of Manchester and back to your shared apartment. He’s uncomfortable and cold, even with the thick jacket he has on, but he supposes it doesn't do much when its soaked through with freezing rain water.  

Simon hates the weather in Manchester. He always has. He doesn't mind the gloom, or the chill as much as he minds the rain. He hates the rain and he especially hates when a storm of this size catches him on the road. Usually, he’d come home and complain about the weather, shower and complain some more. Thís time though, when Simon gets home, he doesn't come complaining about the weather or grumbling about the rain in his thick British accent.  

Instead, when Simon opens the door and steps inside, soaking the floor matt within seconds, he holds out his loosely cupped together hands. “I brought home a friend lovie’.” He says. 

You watch in confusion at his statement, as he opens his hands to reveal a tiny shivering kitten curled up in his much larger palm.

Never would you have expected this big hunk of a man to bring a kitten back to your flat, but if there's one thing Simon has showed you, it's that he has soft spots where you’d never think he does. Apparently, rain-stranded kittens are one of them.  

You gasp reaching your hands out to take the wet animal from him.

“I found her behind a dumpster.” he explains, watching you pet a thumb down her head. The tiny cat curls into the warmth of your body.  

“Aw, poor baby,” you frown, cooing, “what are we going to do with you?”  Your question is directed to her even though she can't really respond, only shiver in your palms. Simon thinks its adorable how you talk to the little kitten, the way you coo at her and bring her closer to your chest to comfort her. He takes a moment to absorb the scene before speaking up.  

“I was hopin’ we could keep her.” He speaks.  

Your face lights up at the suggestion, “Absolutely.”  

His eyes don't crinkle at the edges at your agreement and the edges of his mask dont shift to let you know he’s smiling, but under the passage way light, you swear you can see a little sparkle come alive in his eyes.  

[lowkeyerror]

Ours Together pt 2

Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Notes: Graphic depictions of violence, could be described as slight gore, more hurt/comfort, fluff, hopeful ending (i think), protective Rio and Agatha

Summary: With the three of you on the same page, walking the road should've been a cake walk. However things take a turn, when you end up with your own trial.

An: Yall asked for a part 2 so you know I had to deliver 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Part 1 | Masterlist

Waking up in between Rio and Agatha brought a small smile to your face. It’s a luxury that you thought was long forgotten. You were careful to rise without waking them. Your back cracked as you stretched, the ground of the road was not comfortable in the slightest.

“So you’re a familiar?” Lilia speaks, staring cautiously.

The way your eyes cut over to her is soft. It’s softer than you want it to be. You look at the ground and then the sky, deciding not to look at the witch.

“Yep,” a rough sigh comes out with the simple word.

“It typical that familiars have a second form. A pet or a-"

“Do they look like pet owners to you?”

The others begin to stir, before the conversation can go any further. You’re grateful for the interruption. You were not here to dig in to your past. Well, not any more than reigniting your relationship with Rio and Agatha.

“Look alive, witches. Let’s get this show on the road,” Agatha yawns as the words leave her mouth.

Though you’d rather do anything else, you prepare yourself for the journey.

“What’s wrong?” Rio falls into step with you as you begin to walk the road.

“I still don't want to be here,” you admit kicking some of the dirt up with your heel.

Rio takes your hand in hers, “We can leave whenever you want.”

You dismiss the thought with exasperation, “I’m not abandoning Agatha.”

Rio squeezes your hand, “I don’t want to leave her either, but I don’t want you to be burdened by whatever this is.”

“Woah,” Alice’s voice, makes you look away from Rio.

The other witches also stop, most with their mouths agape. The sight before them unfathomable. This was drastic change from the other trial they had come in contact with.

Instead of a house, there was large mansion. The building was purely white with gold accents. The pillars that stood on each side of the building seemed to go all the way.

The color leaves your face staring at the building. You drop to the ground and begin to scramble away from the building. You shake your head vigorously. Your eyes wide in horror, you try to find the breath in your lungs but you struggle.

“No, no, no, no,” you begin to mutter under your breath.

Agatha and Rio are by your side at a moments notice. Agatha’s hands rest on your face and you can feel Rio’s arm wrap around you.

“Breathe baby,” Rio whispers in your ear.

You search Agatha’s face frantically, “Agatha, I can’t… I can’t. I’m not even a witch, I’m not in the coven. Why?”

“It’s not real, sweetheart. We know it’s not real,” she whispers for only you and Rio to hear.

You close your eyes and begin nodding your head. You swallow hard, trying to focus on the feelings of their hands on you.

“I’m guessing this is her trial,” Jen says, breaking the moment between the three of you.

Agatha glares at the witch, “She’s not going in there.”

Teen interrupts, “I don’t think that’s how the road works.”

The scowl on her face only deepens, “Then make it work Teen. She’s not a witch, she’s not in the coven, she shouldn’t have a trial.”

Alice interferes, “Is it possible it’s not her trial? The three of you are close.. could it be Rio’s or Agatha’s.”

“It would be mine, if not hers,” Rio offers up.

Lilia interrupts, “We have to go into this trial.”

“NO!” Your voice didn’t boom when you yelled, instead it cracked in desperation.

The conversation dies there, but not because of your outburst. You feel the energy shift all around you.

“The seven are coming,” Agatha mumbles under her breath.

“Nope,” Jen immediately turns to run into the building.

Lilia goes in after Jen. Alice and Teen hesitate, but they follow the other two women forward.

You can hear the seven getting closer.

“My love, we must move forward,” Agatha tries to hide her panic, but you see through it.

“We will protect you,” Rio helps you to your feet.

You look behind you, the seven quickly approaching. You look at the building once more, before rushing ahead inside.

Agatha looks at Rio, “Take her out if things get too much.”

Rio shakes her head, “We do not know the repercussions of leaving in the middle of a trial.”

“We both know what happens in there Rio. I can’t bare to see it.”

Rio grabs Agatha’s hand as they rush towards the building together, “She is stronger than we give her credit for.”

As they enter the building a bright light almost blinds them. They see the coven members dressed in all white. Most of them having full halos. Agatha looks similar. Rio however is dawning an all black hooded cloak. If it weren’t for your distress, she would’ve laughed.

The clothes felt wrong against your skin. There wasn’t much around. The walls were painted with clouds. The only other thing in the mansion was staircase in the middle of the room. It looked like it led nowhere, but you knew better.

“Where’s the trial? Do we just get to leave?” Teen says focusing on the stairs.

You try to keep your breathing normal, “Just give me a minute. I know what we have to do.”

“What is this place?” Alice looks around.

Lilia’s eyes sparkle, “I think this is Heaven.”

The coven turns their attention to you.

“Are you-”

Agatha interferes, “We’re already in the trial, save your questions to the end.”

Rio adds on, “Or better yet, don't ask any questions.”

“Let’s get this over with,” you wipe your hands on the white pants.

You stand at the bottom of the stairs. Agatha stand on the left and Rio on your right. The link their arms through yours.

“Up we go,” Agatha directs the coven.

When you get to the top, you can see an abyss waiting for you at the bottom. You can’t see the bottom, and you know what you have to do.

“It’s easier if you don’t look,” you turn your back to the abyss.

“Are you seriously just going to-”

Before Jen finishes her question you are leaning back first into the abyss. Your lovers at your side trusting you completely. The rest of the coven is hesitant, but they eventually all jump into the hole.

It's like you’re being pulled down. It feels like it’s never going to stop. When it does, it’s abrupt. You’re expecting flames and heat, but instead there’s only dirt around you.

The space is shaped like a cylinder. There’s a gracious amount of space. The floors and walls were both constructed of dirt. You looked at the ceiling and it too seemed to be dirt. It was like you all were buried alive.

“Take me back upstairs,” Lilia says looking around the dark and dirt filled hole.

“So, Y/n what now?” They turn to you, looking for guidance.

You use your hands to dig into the ground. You pull out a scroll.

“How did you-”

“Where else would it have been?” You snap at the Teen.

Rio peers over your shoulder, “Fly free with your clipped wings or submit to the sin of the earth.”

The dirt begins to rise as Rio finishes reading the paper. You look up again, this time being able to catch a glimpse of the white room where you had come from.

“Taking us down, to go right back up. How clever,” Agatha says.

“So is now the time we ask the questions?”

“Stand back,” you ignore the question, hoping to get this over with quickly.

The group listens to you. With much discomfort you pushed out the muscles on your back. There were a few loud pops and cracks. You bit your tongue to mask the pain. Your wings popped out and everyone in the room gawked.

“They’re-”

“White?” Rio says with confusion.

You wrapped them around your body, surprised to see white wings sprouting from your back.

“Questions later, fly up,” Agatha says and you do as she instructs.

You begin to flap your wings, dirt flying about in the space. You shoot up to the exit in less than 5 seconds. Instead of freedom you find yourself smacking hard against a piece of glass. You pound on it, hoping to break it.

“I can’t break it,” you call back down.

“Then we’re missing something,” Jen calls out.

The dirt begins to rise in the room at a faster pace.

“Start digging, maybe we’ll find something else,” Teen starts digging, the rest follows.

“Shit,” you hear Agatha cry out.

You decide to fly back down. You land close to her. “What is it?”

She pulls a pair of scissors out of the ground. Her palm bleeding from the cut on her hands.

You scramble back again.

“Didn’t it say something about clipped wings?” Alice recalls.

“That’s why they’re white,” Agatha connects the dots.

“Fuck no,” Rio stands in front of you. “I’m not letting you clip her wings.”

“We’re going to die,” Teen argues with the Death.

Agatha shares a look with Rio, “Get her out of here.”

You shake your head, “No, I’m not leaving you here. Give me the scissors.”

“Y/n, you don’t have to do this,” Rio tries to reason with you.

“Just heal the wounds when it’s over,” you say to her softly.

Agatha still has the scissors in hand, “I won’t let you.”

You get close to her. Your hand reaching for the scissors as you lean in. You can see her squeezing them firmly in her grip, deepening the cut in her hand.

“It’s not real,” you whisper to her just like she had done with you outside.

Her grip loosens just enough for you to pull the scissors from her hand. The dirt is piled at the mid thigh level now.

You once again fold your wings over your body. You turn your head to get a good look at your back. Your eyes follow the seam of where your back is lined with your wings.

Your hand shakes as you open the scissors, opting to use them like a letter opener. The nerves are piling up inside you. Your eyes close and you get a glimpse of your past. You see yourself kneeled over in pain with your back covered in blood.

“We’re running out of time,” Lilia says, as the dirt begins to climb higher.

You scream as you cut off your wing in one swift motion. The pain makes you want to fall to your knees , but its impossible with the dirt surrounding you. Tears fall rapidly as blood pours from your back. Snot drips from your nose as you sob at the pain.

You’re in too much pain to notice, but the dirt begins to rise at a slower pace. No one is happy, or joyful as they look at you in agony.

“Fuck,” you mutter as your body shakes violently at the pain.

The scissors had slipped from your hand at the sheer force you made the cut with.

“Rio,” it comes out of your mouth through gritted teeth. She’s close to you, and you know she carries a blade. “I- you have to do the other one.”

Rio’s eyes widen, “ I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Please, my love. I- I can’t die like this. Please, I just got you back, please.”

Your pleading breaks Rio’s heart. This didn’t feel fake, it was real. The wound pouring from your back, the tears in your eyes. The panicked look in Agatha’s face as she watched this unfold. The suffering felt real.

Rio pulls her dagger out, wading through the sand to get right behind you. It was hard, with the sand covering most of her torso. The sand burned as it pressed into your open wound.

Rio’s hard was cool and soft as it touched the bottom of your wing. She felt through the sand to find the seam of the wings. Once she found it she took a deep breath.

“Forgive me, my love,” her cut was much more swift than yours.

You fell forward as the yelled ripped through you throat. It burned your esophagus. You folded forward, Rio’s arms try to hold you from underneath your stomach, not wishing to touch your back.

The wings lay in the dirt beside you. The dirt that had covered everyone started to sink down back into the ground. Once it was all gone, one side of the wall began to open up. Stairs appeared, indicating the trial was over.

Rio is quick to carry you out of the trial and back on to the road. She hopes that bringing you back to the road will erase the injuries. However as she feels the blood coating her clothes, she knows they are here to stay.

She lays you on your stomach and you groan. She straddles the back of your legs. The weight of her is lost on you, all you can feel is the burning from where your wings were supposed to be. You squirm under her when her tongue connects with your back.

She licks the brutal cuts on your back, the taste of your blood clouds her thoughts, but she doesn’t dwell on it. Her own tears gather as she waits for the wounds to heal.

Agatha rushes to her side, “Is she going to be ok?”

Rio holds her breath, but as she sees the wounds slowly closing she nods, “She’s going to be ok.”

Agatha pulls Rio into a chaste kiss, “Are you ok?”

Rio’s forehead rest against Agatha’s, “No, I’m not.”

The rest of the coven watches the scene unfold with intrigue.

“So your familiar is an angel?” Teen can’t help, but ask.

You whine under Rio as you feel a new pain simmer in your back.

“Off,” you mutter, and Rio gets off of you.

You stay laying as you feel a well-known ache spread through your body. You dig your palms into the ground and let out a huff of irritation. In the spots that Rio had just healed, a set of wings popped out.

This time, they were black like tar. It hurt just as much as before. You prop yourself on your knee before standing to your full height. Just like when your voice had echoed, your eyes were purely black.

“I was an angel,” your voice vibrates through the road.

“What happened?” Jen asks, mesmerized by your wings.

Agatha and Rio are seconds away from forbidding the coven from asking questions. You use your wings to bring them into your sides.

“I fell in love. The higher ups, said it was… impure. Which was a falsehood; there had been nothing in my life or after that was as pure as this love. They wanted to have me banished to hell. I was ungrateful, wasting my eternal happiness by fraternizing with… Rio.”

“Why not Agatha?” Alice questions.

You look at Rio, who gives you a nod, “They didn't like my relationship with Agatha much either, if I’m being honest. Rio was different, forbidden because she is Lady Death.”

The coven members all look to Rio, their eyes wide in shock. Rio simply waves her up, wiggling her fingers in response, “Guilty.”

Lilia speaks next, “But if you’re her familiar, why would your relationship be an issue?”

“I wasn’t her familiar then,” you explain. “I became Agatha’s and Rio’s familiar because Rio interfered during my banishment ceremony. These ceremonies were somewhat of a public shaming. My wings had been forcefully yanked out of my back. Brute strength just ripped them right out of my back. They were in the middle of speaking when she appeared. I’ve never seen her so furious, yelling at Life and God and the other angels. She made an offer for my soul.”

Rio clicks her tongue a few times, “No, no I made a threat. They were going to give me your soul or I would take every soul that passed to hell. There would’ve been no more angels. A demon uprising would've been imminent. They didn't really have a choice.”

“Wait, I know this story. An angel who was swayed by darkness due for banishment, but saved by Death itself. You’re the first fallen angel,” Teen speaks enthusiastically.

You chuckle, “Not exactly the first, there’s one before me, but I am the first with this look. The black wings, dark eyes, echoing voice.”

“So what happened after you threatened them?” Jen is extremely invested.

“She took me to Agatha. I was powerless without my wings. They were trying to figure out what to do. When Rio went to heal the wounds they left on me, we didn't expect new wings to sprout, but they did. The power was different, stronger. They helped me navigate it.”

“It took us some time to realize what the agreement meant for her. They did not believe in our relationship, which is why they made her our familiar. It was a punishment,” Agatha adds some more context.

“How is that a punishment?” Teen’s confusion shines through.

“It burns to be away from them. Literally boils my insides,” your wings fold back into your back.

“Ok, kids, question time is over. We’re setting up camp for the night,” Agatha claps her hands together.

You can see them want to protest, but an eyebrow raise from Rio quiets them all. They begin to set up a camp similar to the night before.

“Come with us,” Rio tugs at your arm.

You follow her and Agatha away from the rest of the coven.

When you feel like you’re far enough from the rest. Your shoulders slump and your body trembles, getting the last of the aches out.

The two witches stop both worried for you.

“I’m fine,” you say softly.

Agatha can’t help but pull you into her, “You’re not, neither of you are. I think it’s time you left the road.”

Your head rests on her shoulder. Your lips press a gentle kiss against her neck, “I don't want to spend any time apart. Especially now.”

Rio is careful as she presses her front against your back, wrapping her arms around you. You grab her arms pulling her flush against you. The warmth of the two women, soothes the aches in your body.

“Baby,” Rio tries.

“Just hold me for a few minutes, please,” you beg the both of them.

The both tighten their grip.

“We’re not going anywhere sweetheart,” Agatha kisses the top of your head.

“Not ever,” Rio doubles down.

You breathe them in. Finding comfort in their presence. Agatha’s hand find a place in your hair, rubbing the tension away. You lay your hands over Rio’s keeping them against your skin.

“Aggie what do you need from this place?” You whisper against her skin.

“My purple.”

You raise your head to stare at her, “I can get them to blast you. Then we can all go home, together.”

“I tried that already, sweetheart. They know about my powers,” she admits to you.

“What if there's nothing at the end of this? We don't know what this is?” Rio tries to reason.

Agatha meets Rio’s gaze, “I do know what this is, you know too. We all know that the road isn’t real. Yet, here we are standing on it, going through trials. This magic is familiar to me, the sigil prevents it, but I know who that boy is. He’s just like his mother.”

“We can find another coven,” you suggest.

Agatha lets out a humorless laugh, “My reputation proceeds me, sweetheart. There are no more witches who wish to gather with me. Lilia, I trust her divination. This is the only way.”

“Then we have to stay,” you turn around to look at Rio.

Rio averts her gaze, “We must go after the next trial.”

You steel your gaze, “Why?”

The Green Witch looks to Agatha for help.

“Sweetheart, it’s not safe here. You just had to clip your own wings. Rio has work to do, and she can’t do it in here. Go with her and I will see you when this is over.”

“Agatha, I-"

She kisses you, softly, “I will come back to you. I won’t be going anywhere. It will be us three, I promise.”

“One more trial don’t say goodbye yet,” you say against her lips.

“I’m never going to say goodbye again, ok? It’s just a promise to meet later.”

You look at Rio, “And we’re staying together, right.”

Rio’s hand reach to cup your face. Her eyes are serious when they look into yours, “I’m never leaving you again.”

You press your lips hers, need seeping through your kiss. When you break the kiss, you find yourself between the two women again.

“Let’s get back to the camp, and rest. I’m sure you’re exhausted, sweetheart.”

“Carry me?” You ask.

Agatha rolls her eyes but scoops you up anyway . You hang on to her like a koala causing Rio to laugh.

“You have wings,” Agatha grumbles.

You nuzzle deeper into her, “They’re not as comfortable as your arms.”

“She got you there, my love,” Rio moves in closer to walk shoulder to shoulder with Agatha.

“You’re carrying her next time.”

The three of you share a laugh. A nice moment to end a chaotic couple of hours. The stress of the road ahead not lost on you, just pushed aside for a moment. There had been enough pain for the day. You didn’t want to dwell on the near future, opting instead to think of the moment it was over. When you’d finally get to have Rio and Agatha to yourself.

[comfortless]

dog hybrid recruit König thots??

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. more loner x loner because it is a treat for me. fem (afab) reader. König is a man just with ears and a tail. vague smut.

He’s the one that was never picked.

So maybe you’re too busy for a puppy hybrid, but maybe you’re a bit too lonely for an empty apartment. You don’t have the space for a big, excitable dog. The cats and bunnies are in high demand, too, there’s no shot of you adopting one of the cute, softer things within your budget. So you settle for a dog. The only dog left at the shelter.

His papers state that he comes from Austria, aged twenty-five and never been put into an actual home before. He’s endured some rigorous military training: scenting, tracking, breaking down thick doors with only a shoulder and an efficient push. A hunter through and through. Then, following his merits: erratic, jumpy, impulsive, and more than a little aggressive.

This dog doesn’t growl, only bites.

The paper sits crumpled in your hands as you eye the dimly lit hallway to your left. Posters of information line the beige walls to either side, some with photos of proud kitties and dogs, hand-in-hand with their companions and cheery phrases printed above in a bright, yellow cursive.

If anything, those are the ones that give you the final push to adopt this unloved, discarded experimental soldier. He’s only been given this one very last chance before… You would rather not think of what comes if you’re to turn away and leave him to rot and wither here. It must have happened a dozen times already: ambitious families looking for a more intriguing addition only to lock eyes with this pitiful thing and shake their heads ‘no’ for him to be put on death row like this.

“He’s scary,” the clerk reminds you once you’re finally led down the hall to the tiny room your new pet— no, friend, must be kept in. It was easy to think of them as something else sometimes. Animal instincts as prevalent as their claws, teeth, and fuzzy little ears. But you didn’t need a pet, there were an abundance of shops for those. You needed a good soul to spill your guts to and maybe pet from time to time.

“I’m sure he’s fine.”

The poor thing is locked away to fester in what more closely resembles a cell than anything resembling a home. A steel door with a thin, narrow gap in the middle like a peephole keeps him locked in tight. Peering through that narrow gap, you only then seem to realize just what an impulsive decision you’re making.

König is exactly what the clerk said, continues to say next to you as she searches for the correct key on the ring. He’s bigger than any other hybrid you’ve seen before, built narrow at the waist but broad and deadly where it matters most; arms like narrow trees and thighs larger than your head, all muscle and intimidation, even with the cute, perky ears peeking out of the top of his helmet. He was definitely used for guarding and killing, and how a man his stature could even begin to fail that was unknown to you. Not that it was necessary. At most, he may need to shoo a scuttling pest out of the front door and put away a dish or two.

When the door swings open, the clerk offers a hesitant nod before dismissing herself back down the hall, and you’re left stood with a pair of blue eyes locked directly onto you.

König assesses with a tilt of his head and a slow ascent to his feet. He’s clad in layers of black, an empty vest where magazines or grenades must have been in place prior. Hell if you knew. He should have been given a fresh change of clothes after being discharged and sent to this place. A proper bed, too, considering the only furniture in this barren place seemed to be a cot that could never hope to hold him.

If not for the swaying of his tail, you might even find yourself nervous, but he does well to try and look approachable, even greets you with a thickly accented tongue beneath that hood. A simple, “Hallo.”

“I’ve adopted you,” you explain, and it sounds ridiculous. You can’t just adopt a full-grown man. Maybe a puppy or some hybrid child, never a man better suited for a gladiator pit than a home. “I mean that… if you want to come home with me, you can.”

He gives you a huff, a burst of breath that pushes the hood out from his face and a near imperceptible roll of his eyes as a step is taken toward you. It must sound stupid, even to him, but the wiry tail at his back does not cease its wagging. No matter how stern the glimpses of his face seem to look and how alarming his size may be, he’s nothing but an eager pup it seemed.

“Richtig… Then let’s go.”

Life with your big soldier turns out to be remarkably easy.

The first few weeks are dedicated to stoking up some sort of bond and rationing out chores. Simple tasks to see how he adapts, and small rewards in the form of pets along the velvety fur of his ears and scratches beneath his chin. The walks with you seem to be his favorite and tend to be long, but he remains right at your side the entire way. The only barking to be heard comes from nosy passersby that warn you to keep your beast on a leash, but you let him be reasoning that it wouldn’t do you any good at all. Your strength was that of a tiny rabbit’s by comparison.

König is clean enough from his prior military training and does as you ask without complaint. Even things you don’t request, such as your laundry are taken care of before you ever even return from work. He’s overbearing on those evenings, when you’ve been apart and he sates himself drunk on the scent of your perfume still clinging to the collar of an old sweater. Excitable and sweet, though, when he curls at your side while some movie plays on the television screen.

It amazes you how easily he’s shifted from stiff to adoring in a matter of days, but it’s rare to have a moment to yourself now. The hybrid is insistent on pulling you up into his lap when you’re curled on the couch, or rushing behind to hoist you up and pin you between an expanse of chest and the kitchen counter with drooly licks against the side of your neck and cheek. Biting, too. You try your best to bully that out of him, flicking at his ears or shoving against his face, but there’s always a mark left behind.

When a coworker gives you a mischievous grin and asks if there’s a new man in your life at the sight of a purplish bruise against your throat, that is when you decide that a collar may actually be nice. Weave your fingers between leather and skin and give König a sharp tug when he gets too rowdy, maybe that would teach him. Spray bottles and warnings spoken through giggles just aren’t enough.

You find one that you think might fit at a shop specializing in hybrid needs. It’s thick and well-made, a black leather hold to match that big scary demeanor that he tries his best to uphold. The cutesy silver bell attached to it is just a bonus. At least you would hear him coming the next time he insisted on peppering you in kisses with his tail a blur behind him.

He greets you at the door as always, unlocks it for you and pulls it open before you ever even make it to the top of the landing. It’s cute how giddy he seems each day when you return, how he doesn’t hesitate to walk right up to you with his hands at his sides, his own silent request for a hug or some form of affection whilst staring down at you and mumbling a “hallo” like the most awkward gentleman in the entire world.

“I got you a present,” you excitedly tell him instead of blessing him with your usual embrace, lifting up the little gift bag with a smile.

When the collar is retrieved from the bag by a massive hand, König does not mirror your enthusiasm. Any light in the placid blue of his eyes seems to extinguish, smothered and fizzled out to pave way for a look of the purest disdain. He rolls the leather between both palms, only then regarding you with as a heavy sigh stirs up from his chest to whistle past the open mouth beneath the hood.

Maybe he would have preferred something with spikes. Something heavy and intimidating with a tag that read “FUCK YOU” in red, painted letters.

“I don’t wear collars,” he finally says, flatly.

Or maybe a muzzle would have been best…

“You do now, big guy,” you challenge with an airy laugh, slipping past him to cross into your home. Tidy as ever, he’s been working today it seemed. The bulb in the living room has been replaced, a few pieces of furniture rearranged. It all just looks… cozy. More habitable now that someone else lives here too.

König follows you inside with his head lowered and tail pushed between his thighs. The collar rests in one hand, fingers curled over it so tightly it almost seemed he wished the damned thing to dissipate into dust.

“Nein. I won’t wear it.” The door is locked behind him. It’s the first time he’s refused you anything. Even cleaning up around the kitchen wasn’t met with a rejection. It’s odd, almost uncharacteristic for him.

“I just thought…” You would want to be mine. Properly. With a nice symbol of it right around his neck, with a sturdy leash to lead him by, with…

Any thought in your head puffs into a plume of smoke back there behind your eyes when you feel two hands grasp at your shoulders, push you back towards the wall to hold you there. Hugging, lifting, cuddling up against, even licking… those things were commonplace. This was foreign and surprisingly rough; there’s no give to his hold, no room to even try to move away as his head lowers to stare you straight in the eyes.

“I killed my last handler.”

“Did you…?”

“Ja.”

That confession should have sent icy dread to the pit of your stomach, should have spurred you to claw and kick and bite. Surely the shelter would have known, could have warned you too. That would have spared you from looking like a terrified little rabbit now, yet a part of you knew it wouldn’t have changed a thing. König sort of… belonged here, as if written in some silly reading of the stars.

His ears flatten against his skull, large hands trembling where they hold you in place. The dam begins to crack as his eyes grow glassy, gaze far away in a concoction of pain and contemplation. He stares through you, not at, reliving something you dared not ask for an explanation for. The whys and hows die on your tongue.

And there’s nothing scary about him anymore.

There’s only a wounded soldier here.

A good boy.

Your hands rise to flip up the hood, rest it over the top of his head to cup his jaw in your palms, stroking over his cheeks with both thumbs to soothe and comfort. His unwinding comes immediate, hands slipping down to your lower back to pull you in closer.

You don’t apologize and neither does he. Everything just falls back into a comfortable lull, some fuzzy droning from both sides as you wish one another good night. He walks you to your bedroom door, the very best he can do to prove that he’s not some mutt with froth coming from his jaw. You bite your tongue to prevent yourself from encouraging that he sleep next to you.

“You’re a good boy, you know that?,” you tell him as you lean against the door in preparation to push it closed. “The very best there is.”

He doesn’t respond, but the tail behind him wags at a frantic pace from those words alone.

The following morning is different.

There’s food on the table and coffee already brewing by the time you cross from your room into the kitchen. The air bears the scent of sandalwood and geranium, a forgotten candle sat burning on the countertop. You eat your breakfast of too-sweet pancakes and prep your coffee to go all while the shower runs from somewhere down the hallway.

He usually waits, tells you goodbye before you’re off to work, bites at your neck and asks which will be better: a movie after dinner or some fresh air. Instead, there’s a note attached to the door. Something simple and mischievous, a scribbled, lopsided heart and some phrase in German written with handwriting so sloppy that there was no hope of your still sleep-addled mind translating it.

You chalk it up to him being fully adjusted in this new space, let him go about his business while you go about yours.

It would be a walk tonight.

Arriving home twists what is simply different into the realm of bizarre. No hugging by the door, it sits closed and untouched since you left this morning. You inhale something heavy, trepidation or maybe a bit of yearning there, while you fumble with your key in the lock. A click, a push, and then everything just changes. There’s no crashing and burning, only a very firm and insistent buzzing that rises to your chest, because the sight inside is just…

König.

Your König.

The hood has been discarded and set aside on the polished wood of a nearby table, the little bell collar sits right along his throat. It jingles when his ears perk and his tail begins that gentle sway, swishing with every step that you take into the apartment, rampant and unyielding when the sparkles in your eyes cluster like the tiniest, most insignificant stars.

No apologies, but this was something better.

“Gut?,” he asks you, kneels before you with the cutest stare that you’ve ever seen on a man. Constellations sit there waiting to be mapped, and your giant puppy waits for just a little praise.

You stroke his ears first, then dip your head to press a kiss to his cheek.

“The best boy,” you tell him.

“I have a present for you too.”

No protest comes when he herds you out of the door, still in your stiff uniform with your hair a mess. The sun begins its setting out on the horizon, bathing the world in purple and gold. Trees with spring blossoms and wildflowers all abloom tinge the air in something sweet. It’s not your usual trail, and König doesn’t walk at your side this time, only ahead. You watch him fondly as he grazes his fingertips against the blooms hanging from branches just overhead, how he shies away from the curious nesting birds in bushes as to not startle them.

It isn’t the usual trail, but he walks it with confidence. There are no people out so late in the day, and apart from the occasional quip between the both of you, the setting only bears the sound of the chiming of his bell and a few night birds beginning to call. Peace morphs to something greater when the sun tucks itself away and sets the stage for a bright, waning moon. There’s a small clearing, a meadow cut straight through by the dirt path you walk, and only then are you pulled aside.

“Here,” he huffs against your chest when your back meets soft grass and a hazy, spring sky is painted out above you.

Maybe you’re not the best with men, but there have been signs.

So many in abundance that the pitiful squeak that leaves you when his nose finds its way up your skirt is only an embarrassment. König must have found it charming, reaches for both of your hands as he laps at your sex through the thin lace of your panties until your body grows tense and your nails leave little crescents on the backs of his hands.

The words don’t come, they don’t have to when he speaks them for you, little whispers and coos into your hair when any barrier between you is discarded with the descent of a zipper and the sound of tearing lace. There’s an outpouring of thanks in the form of a tiny, fragile, “I missed you.”

The night birds calling washes out each sound that escapes from either of you then, only outdone by the symphony of impact when König loses himself entirely to you. Limbs curling around narrow hips and a broad back, pools of blue so shimmery and pretty they outdo even the moon hanging above locked onto you. He doesn’t look away even as you try to bury your face into the width of his shoulder, only then guides you back down with a gentle hand and a muffled, needywhine.

“Good boy,” comes as a mere peep when he fully sheaths himself and laps at the corner of your mouth as you speak. The praise only causes him to still, pries the words from his panting mouth and reduces them to a series of pleasured, stuttering groans.

“What did the note say?,” you ask him in the silence that comes comfortable once the act is done, nestled into a pair of strong arms with a cheek pressed against an expanse of chest.

“Oh.” König laughs breathily, coming down from the height of both love and need.

“That you found home?,” you ask when he pets at your hair, twirls strands between his fingertips. “Because I think that I may have, too…”

“Something like that.” He shrugs, loosens his grip around your body for a mere second before pulling you in closer, tighter to him, as if letting go would end the world entirely. “Heaven.”

[sunsetsimon]

even more random simon headcanons ♡

☼ he's not a huge drinker but can definitely handle his alcohol. it's more of a social thing for him, joining the boys for a round after a mission or seeing any of them around while on a break. though when he drinks, he fucking drinks. simon is grunting at johnny to order another round in his gruff, deep voice that has the slightest hint of a slur. he's so skilled at keeping his composure that no one realizes he's fucking wasted until he stands up from the barstool, stumbling against the counter and then just staring at the wood underneath his palms.

the boys are laughing at him, losing their shit over their intense lieutenant being just as drunk as they are.

"oi, simon, where'ya going?" johnny chortles, way too entertained by the sight in front of him.

"to take a fuckin' piss soap," simon grumbles, his accent even stronger through the liquor and stumbling off to go piss somewhere. and don't count on him making it to the restroom, he's probably going straight outside to a bush.

☼ although he's a dog lover, he isn't able to adopt due to not being at home enough. to make himself feel better, he often goes to a local shelter and donates items for the animals. sometimes the employees let him go in and interact with them for a bit, letting them play and get some pets in. the always offer for him to volunteer but he holds himself back, knowing he'd get way too attached and end up bringing one home.

☼ refuses to let you drive, like ever. simon would genuinely rather walk 10 miles in the freezing cold snow than let you drive for some reason. and it doesn't help that every time he's behind the wheel you're gripping the sides so hard your knuckles turn white. good luck if you have motion sickness, your stomach will be twisting and turning the entire ride, threatening to rise up your throat.

"si-simon-" you start, your body tensing as you brace for impact as he drives through the roundabout, cutting off the person who was trying to pass you.

"'i've got it love," he says, continuing to move over to the far lane with no signal, an angry horn going off behind you.

sure you do, simon. if we manage to make it there without crashing, you think.

☼ loves when you sit on his lap. while reading a book, while watching tv, just because you want to, nothing feels better than the pressure of your smaller body on his thighs, adjusting to get comfortable. at first it seems like it doesn't phase him, not looking away from whatever he was doing. but minutes later you feel the scratch of a weeks old stubble on your neck, chapped lips leaving wet kisses along the soft skin.

"y'smell so good, love," he inhales, pulling your back flush against his chest, his body nearly engulfing you. you shiver, thighs flexing to hold yourself in place, your legs too short to find stability on the flat ground.

that makes him hum against you, pushing his groin against your plushy ass, his sweatpants suddenly feeling too tight on his skin, "you want me to touch you?"

his fingers trail down your arms, leaving goosebumps in his wake. words seem impossible to form from your lips, only giving him a small nod.

"gotta use your words, baby."

[hoshifighting]

the ''ick's'' seventeen would give

seungcheol: would act tough in front of his friends, and with you would be talking like; pweaseee/otay/i wuv u so much 🥺 like—shutthefuckup

jeonghan: stole your lip gloss. yep, dead serious. you look over, and he’s pulling out your cherry gloss, pouting at himself in his phone camera to check it. then he has the audacity to judge you if it’s not his color. like, “babe, don’t you think this is a bit bright?”

joshua: man has this cringe little habit of saying “no cap” at the worst times, and he’s always wrong. burnt his toast? “no cap, that was the toaster’s fault.” got pulled over? “no cap, that cop’s jealous of my car.” you’re in a horror movie, and this dude would whisper, “no cap, i think we should split up.”

junhui: starts telling a hilarious story about his day but accidentally mixes it up with a story he already told you last week. he’s all “wait, have i told you this before?”

hoshi: eats with so much sound. slurping, groaning, making it a whole event. like, eating ramen? nah, he’s performing ramen, making eye contact, giving each bite a sound effect. and it’s so bad you’re rethinking why you even suggested dinner. you can hear every noodle hitting his mouth. done.

woozi: texts you “wyd” every fifteen minutes. like you’re just supposed to be sitting around waiting for his updates on what you’re doing, right? he’s the kind of guy who’ll FaceTime you just to check if you’re having too much fun without him. and the way he says “wyd?” – every. time.

wonwoo: he’s got a pet name for his gaming console. this boy will sit there, caressing his controller and calling it “baby” while yelling at his avatar. it’s all fun and games until he actually ignores you mid-sentence to mutter sweet nothings to his PS5.

minghao: changes his accent mid-sentence to be "fancy." like, you’re talking normal, but suddenly he’s doing his best British impression for no damn reason. “oh, quite right, love, terribly splendid.” and it’s out of nowhere, totally unprompted, with a smirk like he just did something magical. you’re cringing so hard you’re practically folding into yourself.

mingyu: he’ll be all smooth one minute, but then he gets real comfortable and lets out the loudest, most unholy fart you’ve ever heard, like it was a fart held since WW2.

seokmin: pulls out a super old toy he’s kept since childhood and starts playing with it, getting all emotional about “the good ol’ days.” like, bro, you’re a grown-ass man, and you’re here with a plastic dinosaur, talking about how it “used to roar.”

seungkwan: catches a whiff of something weird in the room and just straight-up sniffs his armpits. he does it casually, like it’s no big deal, then he looks at you dead seriously.

vernon: goes way too hard on his “cool guy” vibes. constantly pulling his hat down low, trying to act all mysterious, but he’s accidentally walked into the wrong bathroom twice just trying to “look chill” or, walking in the room with his backpack wide open (we have proofs). he does this squinting thing like he’s in a music video, but it’s just… nope.

chan: calls himself “alpha.” no, seriously, he’ll be like, “as the alpha, i need to handle this.” and he’s referring to something like taking out the trash. leaving you jaw dropped, wondering why he’s talking like a lost wolf.

[taintandviolent]

Taco Tuesday ; Gambit x reader!

summary: You live across the hall from Wade Wilson, and one Tuesday, he invites you over for tacos. 🌮 And that’s where you meet him. The Gambit. Post-Void, everyone got out alive and everything is fine. [PART TWO HERE]

word count & w a r n i n g s: 5.4K | smut with very little plot, alcohol mention, slightly drunk (but very consenting) reader, French and typing out accents/dialects, pet names (cher, mon ami, mon coeur, etc.), dirty talk (cos he is a dirty talker, don't argue with me on this), fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, no use of y/n.

a/n: this is based 100% on Deadpool and Wolverine Gambit / Channing's version of Gambit!! sorry for the lack of plot here, he deserves better than this filth, but I am down ASTRONOMICALLY and I needed to get it out. I spent so much time trying to get his accent right, I hope it comes off the way I wanted it to... anyway! i'm not certain if anyone will read this, but if you do - thank you a million times over! as always, requests are open! - banner by @/strangergraphics, and Remy gif by @scintie!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

He’s handsome. Like really handsome. 

Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle of Jack between your legs — wait. Pause. Rewind. How’d we get here?

Living in the same apartment complex as Wade Wilson was a trip. Even more of a trip was living across the hall from him. The things you heard coming from that apartment... nobody would believe you. So, you never told anyone. 

He’s kind. Albeit, zany but kind. Your interactions have been cordial and nauseatingly neighbourly. But on one regular ol' Tuesday afternoon, Wade invited you inside. He said something about having a party later that night, making tacos and being neighborly. He assured you that it wasn't a sex party... which to be honest, you weren't worried about until he'd mentioned it. Against your better judgement though, you'd agreed, and said you'd bring some liquor.

So, that evening, you opened your door, one bottle of Jack tucked under your arm, and another in your left hand. You shut the door to your apartment and walked straight across to your neighbour’s door. Your fist had rapped against the wood only twice before the door swung open, revealing Wade, and a very… strange and very bald looking dog in his arms. 

"Oh, what the fuck?" You asked, looking down at the creature. "I didn't know you had a dog…?"

Wade’s voice rose an octave or two, in a cutesy tone. "She's a new addition, yes she is!" 

"I brought... well, this. Sorry, it was all I had in my cabinets and to be perfectly honest, I wasn't about to go out and spend money on this. I like… barely know you."

"HA! Brutal honesty. We love to hear it." 

Wade took hold of your shoulder and yanked you inside, harsh enough that you made a small sound as he did. He shut the door with his foot, and towed you towards the table, where everyone was gathered. And that was when you first saw him. He wore all black, save for a tan trench coat with a high collar. He lounged casually on one of the dining chairs, playing with a deck of cards. They fluttered from hand to hand effortlessly, and for a moment, you were stuck, mesmerized by the dexterous way he handled them. You weren't sure what was pulling you towards him harder, your heart or your cunt, but you felt an undeniable draw to the man.

Wade's arm wound itself around your shoulders, guiding you around the room to meet each of his friends. At that point, living next to him, mutants were a forced transition. You were used to the concept of them, so meeting a giant silver man, for example, wasn't unexpected. Vanessa was the most normal - you were pretty sure she was human.

Finally, he got to the one you really wanted to meet. The one that your eyes had been darting back and forth to the entire time, the one that when he briefly met your gaze, your heart thudded in your chest. 

"And this... handsome slice of man, is the Gambit. Good luck understanding him, he's a real mouthful."

I’ll bet he is, you thought. 

He pocketed the cards in a quick motion and stood up from his chair. With a syrup-smooth chuckle, the man laughed and said: "You can call me Remy." He did in fact have a thick Cajun accent and spoke quickly – almost too quickly. You blinked once, focusing hard on his words.

"Remy," you repeated finally, before saying your own name and extending your hand. He took it gently and as he shook it, your palm tingled with what felt like electricity.

"Enchanté." (Enchanted)

Your cheeks burned, and you knew they were flushing. You couldn’t control it. "De même..." (Likewise.)

His brows lifted, surprised. "You speak French, mon ami?" (my friend) 

"Heh, uhh... comme un enfant." (Like a child) You chuckled low, averting your eyes for a millisecond. "I took a few years of it in high school and again in college. I’m by no means an expert."

Wade's eyes were wide, flicking back and forth between the two of you. There was obvious chemistry there, and a knowing smirk drew itself across his lips. Abruptly, he yanked one of the bottles of Jack Daniels from beneath your arm, before leaning against the nearby wall.

"Oh, fuck me. You understand Gumbo here? That’s cute. No idea what either of you are saying though, someone forgot to turn the subtitles on. I'll leave you two to get acquainted." Whatever that meant. You scoffed, but turned your attention back to Gambit, looking at him.

“Sit a while, cher.” 

You happily took the chair that he pulled out, not caring that it was facing away from the others, and plopped down onto it, situating the other bottle of Jack between your legs. You gripped the neck of the bottle tightly, and looked at him with a timid, but a come hither sort of smile. After a moment, you twisted the cap off, and flicked it off somewhere to your right. Wade would find it later, or he wouldn’t. You didn’t really care. 

You two talked for hours, most of which consisted of him telling you about the Void, and how hard it had been, while you pretended to comprehend it. Between words, you passed the bottle back and forth, taking mouthfuls, and inadvertently swapping spit as you did. The thought occurred to you about halfway through the conversation, and your stomach tightened. You shook your head lightly and clenched your thighs together, trying to stave off the arousal that was bubbling in your core. 

There we go. That’s better.

He’s handsome. Like really handsome. 

Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle, which was still situated between your legs. His fingertips just graze the side of your thigh and his eyes flit to yours. He holds his smile, waiting for you to either protest or move the moment forward, and all you can do is gawk, because your cunt starts throbbing. 

As the evening wears on, though cautious, it’s obvious that Remy feels the same pull that you do. He remains cool on the outside, but internally, he was battling the magnetic tugging he felt from you. He couldn't shake it. He’d compliment you, you’d compliment him. At one point, in between sips, you casually drop that you think his accent is hot and he whispers something underneath his breath, something you don’t understand. Before either of you realized it, you had started to lean closer to each other, your faces inches apart, and you felt the warm rush of his breath over your cheeks.

It was as if you both realized it simultaneously. You rear back, an embarrassed expression plastered on your face. Remy clears his throat. His attraction to you was stifling; something that he rarely felt. He was powerless in his want for you, the draw you had was irresistible.

"Maybe we should... uh..." You murmur, looking deep into his eyes. In a room full of people that were starting to fade away the closer you two got to each other, you were thankful you were still sober enough to suggest a different setting. Any longer and you surely would’ve just straddled him and gone to town. 

Remy moves first. 

"We gon' take a walk." He announces to the others, getting to his feet. 

The conversation stops abruptly, silence hanging heavy. You straighten up, trying your best to avert your gaze, but you still see everyone’s reaction. Someone clears their throat and your heart sinks, feeling like you might die on the spot. The one that had been introduced as Logan, gruff looking dude, raises a single brow at you. In true Wade-character, he ugly cackles, shattering the moment. Your shoulders sink, embarrassed, as you head towards the door, doing the proverbial walk of shame. 

Remy meets you at the door and pulls it open, holding it for you. You duck underneath his arm, looking sheepish and as you exit into the hallway, you think you heard Wade mutter something about a fanfiction but Remy yanks the door shut before you can react. 

“You want to… get some air? Or um… I have… well, no I had liquor, but I brought it to Wade’s.” 

He smiles, and looks down at the floor, before lifting his eyes back to you. “We can do whatever you want, chère. You ain’t gon’ catch me complainin’ eitha’ way.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, considering the options. Your heart was hammering in your chest at the prospect of just being near him without the others around. You two had been close to kissing in Wade’s living room, and now, you had the opportunity to continue that… or take a walk. The latter seemed less appealing. 

“Y’know what, why don’t we… just…” You take a few steps backwards, jerking your head towards your front door. Concerningly, you had forgotten to lock your door. However, it allows you to open it quickly, and walk backwards into the apartment. Gambit follows you in, his attention never leaving you. 

"You sure 'bout dis, mon ami? I can walk away righ' now." His words land heavy, a promise behind them. He was a gentleman at heart, you could tell. Fortunately for him, you were very sure, and wanted every inch of him.

Mon ami - something that in the few hours you'd spent with him, he'd called you often. Among other things. Mon ami meant my friend, but you knew you two weren't just friends. You saw how he acted with others, and the comments he made. Sure, he had a quick wit and a mouth on him, but the flirting... god, the flirting.

He stands in the doorway, his shoulders filling the frame. Silently, you nod and take another step back, giving him some room to enter. He takes one wide step towards you, leaving the door open behind him. He reaches for your hip, and you immediately take to playing with his large hands. Delicately, you pay attention to each long digit, trailing your middle finger along the knuckles, and up and down the length of them. You dip into the spaces between, your fingers barely ghosting over the webbing. 

Was that a shiver? Your eyes flit to his, searching them for a hint.

"You sure do know how to make a man feel good." 

Your heart flutters at his words. With his accent, even the simplest of things sounded charming. At least to you. You felt that he could ask if you wanted coffee or how the weather was and you'd be twirling your hair around your finger like a desperate schoolgirl. Embarrassing. 

You’re about to respond and defend yourself by saying that all you had done was play with his hands, which was hardly considered foreplay, but his fingers come up underneath your chin, gently closing your mouth with a dull click of your teeth. He tilts it upwards to an angle where he could easily kiss you. And kiss you, he does. 

It was the kind of kiss that makes your knees buckle, sends a violent shudder from the nape of your neck down to the base of your spine. It’s the kind of kiss that needs to come with a warning; Danger: Will Result In Sex. As his lips move against yours, you feel the urgency of his need, of his want, and hum into his lips. Remy takes that as a green light and deepens the kiss, moving his body so that it’s pressing flush against yours. The action leaves you immediately breathless and in response, you break the kiss, tucking your chin to your chest. Your hand finds his torso, pressing hard against the muscles underneath the shirt.  

"Ah, don't you be actin' shy now. You been teasin' me for hours."

“I have not!”

“You think I didn’t notice all ‘dem touches an’ looks you were givin’ me? I may ‘ave been born at night, but I wasn’t born last night.” 

He had you there. You couldn’t deny that, at all. Even if you’d wanted to. Which, part of you did. Part of you was very nervous, standing before this very handsome man, with the taste of his mouth still lingering on your lips but another part of you, the louder one, was delighted that he’d noticed. Furthermore, that he’d enjoyed them enough to come to your room.

You lift your hand behind him, pushing the door shut with a harsh shove. With a twist of your fingers, you activate the locking mechanism, sliding the deadbolt into place. Gambit chuckles, grinning down at you. Your heart leaps into your throat, but you press on bravely, lacing your arms around his neck. They trail down the front of his body, feeling the muscles as they twitch with each ragged breath. 

He quirks a brow as if to ask, 'Oh, really?' You simply smirk back at him. The contact is electric, and you find yourself resisting the urge to grind against him immediately. Instead, you focus on his hands again, bringing one of them up to your lips. You press a delicate kiss on the pads, before slipping one into your mouth and sucking gently. Remy makes a deep, husky sound in his throat, and brings his other hand to your hip, where he pulls you roughly against him.

For a man that uses his hands often, the sensations are high. The way your mouth envelops his finger, your tongue writhing around the digit had his jaw clenching, muscles fluttering on the side of his face. When you draw his finger into the confines of your throat, deep-throating it, his eyes roll back in pleasure. He pulls his hand back, shaking it off as if the inside of your mouth was hot to the touch.

"Woo, you nasty, huh? Nevah’ woulda' guessed... you been actin' like a good little girl 'uhround me." 

After that, it all happened very quickly. Gambit takes a step and connects his lips with yours again, pushing them into you in an act of desperation. Without breaking the kiss, he shrugs out of his jacket, tossing it onto a nearby surface. You push against him until his back hits the door with a heavy thud, definitely loud enough for any innocent bystanders to hear. Your fingers undo the button of your jeans, breaking the kiss for only a second to slide them down your legs. 

Once you return to his waiting mouth, the kiss deepens and the coil in your stomach winds tighter, claiming your body in a deep, fiery arousal. His big arms wrap around you, enveloping you in a heated embrace. Just for a moment, it’s tender — but shortly after, his hands drop to your ass, fingers slipping underneath the band of fabric to take greedy fistfuls of each cheek. 

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, gripping the roundness of them to use as leverage. Letting out a little hum, you sweep your hips across his groin, pressing tightly against him. His eyes drift shut, head bumping against the door as he leaned it back, a low growl coming from his throat. Keeping at it, you grind your hips against him, feeling the outline of his length as it hardens.

“You be drivin’ Remy crazy, grindin’ on me like ‘dat.”

“That’s the intention….” You stand on your tiptoes to pepper kisses on his lips, your warm breath fanning over his face, smelling faintly of Jack Daniels. Remy trails his hand carefully up your rib cage until he gets to the side of your breast, where he quickly slips around to the front, his large hand cupping the fullness of it outside of your shirt. Your reaction is visceral; your breath hisses through your teeth at the sensitivity. 

Remy laughs again and with his free hand, pulls your hips back to his. Swiftly, he spins you around, pinning you between his body and the hard surface of the door. He presses himself tightly against you, shifting slightly so that his thigh was between your legs. The sensation of something that close to your core is dangerous and brings a weak, mewling whimper from your mouth.

“We gon’ have ourselves some fun.” His voice is low, tinged with a new sort of lustful tone that you hadn't heard before. Your mind is spinning, growing dizzy with lust. The alcohol had certainly helped your nerves, you were never usually this brazen. Your core burns with desire at his words, silently begging for everything he was about to give you. His lips hover just over yours; you can feel his breath on your skin and the heat that radiates off his body as it presses into yours.

"Oh my god," you whisper into his mouth. "Fuck..."

His teeth nip at your bottom lip before he captures your mouth in a heated, passionate kiss again. His tongue explores the inside, swirling along your own wet muscle. With every passing second, your heart beats faster and his hands grip your hips tighter, thumbs massaging the flesh above your jeans.

“Wrap ‘dem legs around me, mon coeur.” (My heart) Remy’s voice is husky with want; amongst his playful, lilted tone, a possessiveness lingered, and the thought sends a chill down your spine. He nods once, encouraging you into his waiting arms. You jump up, and he catches you effortlessly, gripping your thighs tight and hoisting you up into his grasp. Feeling secure, you wrap both legs around his waist and encircle his neck with your arms. Your gaze meets his and you can see the wanton need mirrored in his own eyes, darkened with desire.

Remy's smirk is dripping with confidence. Your body's response to him was causing his ego to swell within his chest, and his cock to swell within his pants. He leans in close, his lips against your ear, nipping at the lobe softly before pulling back slightly. In one fluid movement, his hips buck up against your center, teasing you over the layers of clothing. You let out a moan, throwing your head back against the door.

He thrusts up into you again, chuckling low against your ear. The hard line of his cock grinds against you, making you stutter out expletives as it presses against you with a needy demand. 

"You like 'dat, cher? Talk t' me..."

You nod, swallowing and wetting your throat. "Y-yeah, fuck... I do... need you – it – so bad."

“Whaddya’ need?”

“N-need you… so bad.” 

“You can do betta’. Tell Remy what you need...” 

He presses you harder against the door, your back sliding against the wood as he kisses a trail down from your mouth to your shoulder, sucking and biting with all the right intensities. As his hips grind against yours, you feel the damp fabric slide across your cunt, alerting you to just how wet he’d made you. Fuck. 

“Need… need you to fuck me. Hard. Need to feel you everywhere.”  

A few hours ago, you’d agreed to Taco Tuesday at Wade’s. Now, you were getting dry humped by a really hot Cajun guy and moaning into the curve between his neck and his shoulder. You were positive that if someone opened their door, they’d hear you. Somewhere in your brain, the thought should have been moderately embarrassing, but you were far too invested in Remy to care. 

Without warning, Gambit lifts you away from the door and carries you to the nearby couch. He never breaks the kiss, still feverishly claiming your mouth as he moves. Your back hits the cushions and before you can process it, his body weight is on top of you. He slots himself in between your legs, and his hard-on bumps into your stomach as his hips rut against you, finding some relief in the friction. But not enough. 

Remy’s hand finds the hem of your shirt, lifting it just enough to allow his fingers underneath the fabric. You bite down on the pillow of your bottom lip and push your hips up into his. Thick, strong digits sweep across your skin, leaving a burning trail of fire in their wake. Every touch brings your temperature up, and it isn’t long before your entire body is consumed in flames. You sigh contentedly, arching up into his touch. 

Abruptly, Remy straightens up, crosses his arms over his torso and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his tan skin and bulky muscles. His stocky stature makes your tummy clench with anticipation. He was fit, as you assumed, but that didn’t stop your jaw from falling open at the sight. 

“Wow,” you finally choke.

Remy grins. “You like what you see?” 

You nod furiously, hands snapping to his toned abdomen. He’s warm and his skin is soft, begging to be touched. The muscles flex underneath your fingers as you trace a long stripe from his belly button to his collarbone. Your hands claw at his shoulder, attempting to pull him back down on you, but he resists. 

He spoke with a playfulness, almost a sort of pleading. His thumbs flicks at the hem of your shirt. “Ah, c’mon, ‘dat ain’t fair. Enlève-tout toi, huh?” (Take it all off.)

You thought you understood, but if you didn’t, it didn’t matter. Remy was quick to translate his words, busy undressing you, pulling your worn t-shirt over your head, and reaching around your back to unclasp your bra. Most men would’ve fumbled with the clasp, but not him. His adept fingers make quick work of it, allowing your breasts to fall free. He throws your bra somewhere behind him. 

“Hooo, cher…!” His eyes light up at the visual and you feel heat blooming on your cheeks again, half expecting him to make a lewd comment. Instead, his hands cup your tits, kneading the soft plumpness like dough, thumbs grazing the nipples. He exhales through his mouth, jerking his head to the side. 

Finally, he kisses you again. It’s wet and sloppy and his mouth is consuming you, tasting you hungrily. His hips are still moving, sweeping into yours with a calculated precision. You try to spread your legs but the back of the couch thwarts your attempt. He notices this, watching as you struggle with the space. 

“You got a bed?” He asked in between smearing kisses along your neck and collarbone. 

“Yeah-yeah…. Down the hall.” 

“Remy be needin’ more room for what he wanna’ do t’you.”

His weight is suddenly gone from you, an unwelcome sensation, even though you know he’s about to carry you wedding-style down the hallway. He bends down, one arm sliding underneath your neck, the other in the crook behind your knees. For the second time that night, he lifts you into his arms.

You rest your cheek against his warm pectoral muscle, rocking back and forth, as he walks you both down the dark hallway. The only light in the room comes from the window, the city outside alive and humming. Carefully, Remy sets you down on the bed, unmade from this morning, your dark gray sheets cool to the touch. 

In nothing but your underwear, which at this point, are damp to the touch, you’re left feeling very exposed. But you can’t muster up any shame, not when he’s looking at you with such hunger, such want. Your tummy feels tight, and the feeling gets worse when Remy’s hands drop to his waist, unzipping and unbuttoning his pants. They fall loose at the waist, and he shucks them down the rest of the way, leaving him in nothing but a pair of deep purple boxers. Your eyes swing heavy to the outline that’s now presented to you. 

Oh my god. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise; Remy was a big guy, and that proved true downstairs, too. You can barely pull your eyes away from it, but you begrudgingly rip them away, to look up into his gaze. 

“Please,” you beg. “You’re too far away…” Your cunt is aching and nothing but him, his hands, his dick, will sate her. 

He leans forward, flattening both hands on the mattress and walks them back until his face is in front of yours. He sweeps you into another kiss and your heart races. His hands are perfectly positioned on either side of your hips, you feel them graze the flesh. His finger hooks around the elastic of your panties, twisting it around his pointer finger and gradually, he tugs them down over the curve of your hip.

You nod lazily against his mouth, as you feel the warmth of his hand near your core. Your legs drop apart, knees touching the mattress as you allow him access. One hand sweeps across your inner thighs, stroking them, while the other palms your soft mound. His other hand comes to pause at your knee, and pushes his weight into it softly, forcing you to stay spread-eagle for him. No way you could’ve done this on the sofa. 

There’s no hesitation in the way he fingers you; sweeping up through your slick folds, smearing your arousal around until she’s coated in it, splaying your pretty, wet cunt apart with his fingers, looking upon it hungrily. He knows what he’s doing, and how to do it right. You briefly wonder if that’s another mutant power he has… though being an expert at fingering someone seems outlandish. But he’s just so good at it. His middle finger barely touches you, circling the bundle of nerves delicately. Your back arches up towards him, a desperate groan vibrating your vocal chords. Delighted by your reaction, his finger flicks upwards at your swollen, sensitive clit, making your body literally quiver. 

“Uhugh – god…. Shit, oh my god.” 

He continues like this for several minutes, until your cunt is blazing hot and clenching with every moan you give. 

By the time he presses one finger inside, you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and your voice fills the room with needy, desperate sounds. You let out a shrill whine, and he slips in another finger, feeling the stretch of muscle as he does. His heart is pounding in his chest, overcome with lust. The way you sound, the way your body is moving and writhing on the bed, he can’t wait to sink himself into you. 

Amidst a laugh, he says: “People gon’ think we up in here watchin’ porn.”

Did he just insinuate that you sounded like a pornstar? You lifted your head, wearily, to look at him. Your chest heaves with each breath as you try to formulate a snarky remark to no avail. He looked so good – well, always – but he looked particularly good on top of you, his bright eyes lust blown and hungry. 

“We’re… we’re… porn… it’s…  oh god.” 

He shushes you. “You just lay back and keep moanin’.” 

Defeated, you huff and your head hits the sheets again, but not before you catch a glimpse of the way the muscles in his forearm ripple as it pumps back and forth into your cunt. You can’t help but moan at the sight, feeling a shockwave rupture your core. Your hips meet his fingers, rutting and writhing against the mattress in a needy rhythm.

Your first orgasm claims your body before you can stop it. You’re clenching around his fingers as they move, crooking upwards into your sensitive spots. Your slick coats his fingers and when Gambit pulls his hand back, thick, clear strands string from between them. He smiles down at you. 

Remy raises himself to his knees. “Turn ‘round…” 

You flip over and back yourself towards him, thinking that he’s going to go at it doggy-style, but to your surprise, he pulls you upright, pressing your back against his chest. His dick is hot between your legs, and when he reaches down to line it up, you let your head loll back against his shoulder. Gambit’s mouth finds the side of your neck, streaking it with wet, suckling kisses. He was taking his time with you, savouring you and you hum happily through closed lips, reaching behind you to thread your fingers through his hair.

“Fuck, you feel so good…” Instinctively, your hips undulate and his cock slips between your folds. Remy’s hips buck once, letting out a groan that comes from somewhere deep. 

“You ready, cher?” He asks, sweeping your hair away from your neck. You nod furiously. You’ve been ready – you were ready the moment you laid eyes on him.

Remy reaches down to sweep his fingers along your entrance briefly, before gripping himself and guiding the head of his cock into the slit. You keen at the feeling of his velvet-soft head pressing into your entrance, warm pre-cum leaking from the slit. He murmurs words of encouragement into your ear as you feel his hips press against your ass, urging his thick, veiny shaft inside your cunt. He does it gently, allowing you time to adjust to the girth, but the sting still makes you cry out. “Fffuck!”

He begins to thrust his hips shallowly, your cunt stretching around his cock. The feeling is all-consuming, and your body feels heavy in his grasp. One hand is gripping your waist tightly, the other, fingers splayed out on your stomach just above your cunt. There’s a pressure building in your cunt, and each thrust magnifies it. The sting of his cock fades to an ache, then to a dull throbbing that makes you want more and you lean forward slightly and press your ass into the curves of his hips, meeting his thrusts. 

“Mm, ‘dat’s it, cher…” His voice is hot on your skin. 

His thrusts get deeper, but there’s a lingering tension in his body that makes you feel like he’s not getting what he wants. You’re right; all at once, Remy pulls his cock from you and switches positions. 

You’re suddenly on your back, looking up at him as he looms over you, all muscle. His cockhead nudges your entrance again, but doesn’t penetrate. 

“Say my name, cher… I needa’ hear it leave ‘dat pretty mouth.” 

“Which one? Gambit? Or Remy?” You ask, breathlessly.

The way his eyes rolled back at the second option told you everything you needed to know. A smirk twisted your lips cruelly and you lifted your body slightly, just enough for your mouth to reach his ear. You moan his name over and over again, knowing full well the effect it’s having on the mutant man.

“Remy, Remy, Remy….” Your tone is high-pitched and whiny, but he seems to enjoy the lewdness of it all. He bucks his hips hard into you, and the fullness reaches an all-time high as he bottoms out, his pelvis hitting yours with a slap.

“Huhhh—!” You gasp, breathing ragged. “Fuck!”

“Gonna’ make you cum so hard you ain’t gon’ walk right for days.” His voice is low and filthy and leaves a stain on your mind. Your cunt clenches around him possessively, pulling him somehow deeper inside of you. 

As your head bangs into your headboard, the tip of his cock bumps your cervix over and over again, and your jaw goes slack, literally fucked silent. Remy hears the thudding of your skull and puts a hand between it and the wood, but he doesn’t stop his relentless, deep thrusting. 

The pleasure reaches a peak and your nails dig into his back, leaving crescent moon shaped indentations on his golden skin. Remy’s groaning loud into your ear as he cums, muttering in an almost incoherent melange of French and English. His accent is somehow heavier, and you can barely make out the words as he’s saying them into your skin. It doesn’t matter though, because you feel how full you are, and Remy’s hot, white completion is leaking out the sides and staining your sheets. 

He stays like that for a moment, hovering on top of you. His cock softens inside, completely spent and eventually, he slips it out, rolling over onto your bed.

“Ah, joi de vivre, huh.” (the joy of life), he says drowsily.

You laugh, and nestle underneath his arm, in the space he’s left for you. 

If you had your way, you’d do it all over again. 

Though he doesn’t say it, so would he. 

[sectumsempraaa]

Send Him My Regards

Pairing: fem!reader x idk they’re all in love with you LOL, but Draco's down bad

Summary: You aren’t one to provoke the aggressive nature of your closest friend group (a bunch of reckless Slytherin boys) but when the new hire at your favorite bookstore makes you uncomfortable, you’re forced to ask for their… “help.”

Word Count: 2.5k

Featuring: The whole damn crew. Draco, Theo, Mattheo, Pansy, Blaise, Lorenzo

TW: Implied non-consensual touching/comments, implied violence, panic/mental distress, cursing, disgustingly fluffy

Notes: This is based on something I recently experienced, as many of you have, too. I tried my best to convey my very real thoughts on this matter. Avoiding threatening men is a constant, everyday struggle. If you can relate, this is for you.

“Love, you already own every book in the world.” Draco proclaims, staggering behind you with his pack of Slytherin watch dogs.

Whenever you go anywhere as a group, they always let you lead so they can keep an eye on your surroundings. You think it’s silly, but it’s their thing, and you secretly appreciate the protection, so you let them be. It makes them feel important, and you find it endearing.

“I most certainly do not! Only like… two hundred.” You respond, muttering the number under your breath.

“Then I’ll buy you every book in the world. Must we come here every weekend?” he groans. Of course, Mattheo interrupts, shooting Draco a furrowed brow.

“Mate, for the love of god, either stop coming on these trips, or use some of that fancy cash you love to go on about to take us elsewhere. Pick one.” Mattheo sneers. Naturally, he’s carrying your bag and coat, making sure you never lift a finger. His response earns a smirk from you.

You’re not really listening though, more so taking in the beauty of Hogsmeade. You love escaping the castle for the little town on perfect, brisk days like this one, hitting everyone’s favorite shops and downing a couple of butterbeers.

The boys continue arguing in the background as you make your way down the cobblestone street, your hair blowing softly in the chill of the November breeze. Blaise and Theo share an eye roll with each other before coming to your side, leaving the two to bicker as they trail behind. Theo steps in, heaving a dramatic sigh and throwing an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him. His words drip with that rich Italian accent.

“Ignore them, bella. We’ll wait for you outside.” You smile at him and he gives you a wink. A man of few words, but oozing with charm. He will occasionally act as a grounding force when the others get rowdy. You hear Draco drag on about how he “earned” his money or whatever.

“Oh wow, a real rags to riches story!” Mattheo shouts, lunging at Draco. You shake your head laughing with Blaise, sending you a look that reads as “I’ll take care of them.” You enter the bookshop, making the bell ring as the door opens.

The first thing you notice is the shiny new display of fantasy books you’ve been dying to get your hands on. You make your way towards it, not being able to contain the thrill on your face. You’ve been waiting for this series to restock and here they are, all of them, ready to be yours. You touch the smooth covers, tracing your fingers over the author’s name on each one.

The second thing you notice is… him. Your heart drops as your sheer excitement instantly morphs into dread.

Please, not again. 

The new hire at this bookstore has ruined the last couple of trips for you. You were hoping he would stop working weekends but… there he is. And he eyes you right away, like you’re on his radar.

The first time you came in, it was the comments. Calling you pet names, pointing out his favorite features on you, and it was relentless. You somehow got through it and attempted to shake it off, praying he would quit or just get fired before your next trip.

The second time, it was the touching. Brushing against your back when trying to “get through”, his hand grabbing your arm too tightly while he led you down an aisle. You tripped on your way out while trying to make a swift escape, and of course he was there to “catch you”, only giving him an excuse to grip both hands around your waist, hesitant to release you.

Your eyes go between the book display and his movements as he starts creeping his way out from behind the counter. You have to make a split-second decision to either stay and endure, or leave safely and empty handed. It pains you but your nerves heighten as he gets closer. Panic sets in as colors blur and sounds become muffled. Your brain and your body and your heart scream together in unison: “danger.”

You burst through the door back outside with a speed and force that could only be conjured by your anxiety. Facing the door, you stumble backwards and let out a gasp when you land in someone’s familiar arms. You recognize the brown suede material of Theo’s jacket as you attempt to catch your breath. It seems no amount of oxygen could suffice at the moment.

“Bella, bella, what’s wrong?” He asks urgently, hoisting you back up to your feet. The others notice the incident and immediately stride their way over. Draco, always leading the pack, puts his hands on your shoulders and lowers his eyes to your level.

“Hey, look at me,” he coos, forcing you out of your episode. He speaks with a tenderness that is almost heartbreaking. “What happened, love? Are you quite alright?”

There’s too many thoughts and feelings swimming around in your head to give an honest answer. Everything is moving in slow motion and you need time to regroup. Swallowing your fear, you decide to lie, at least for now. The last thing you want to do is impulsively encourage their hostility.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you respond, avoiding his gaze. He looks at you, deciding whether to believe you. “Really, I am.” You add. He glances down to your empty hands.

“You left without a book. You always buy a book.” He says, speaking with suspicion in his voice. The others stay back, knowing when to give Draco his space. They all adore you, but Draco would do things you’d rather not think about in order to keep you happy and safe. And he has. It’s been like this since you can remember. 

“Just didn’t have what I wanted, is all.” You explained. The doubt on his face is evident. He speaks just above a whisper.

“Y/N, you know we would take care of anyone that so much as breathes near you wrong, yeah? It’s important to me that you know this.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Mattheo ditching his cigarette and cracking his knuckles. You give a small nod and a shrug, releasing yourself from his hands and walking back in the direction of the castle. Your head is still reeling, but not enough to block out the boys’ debriefing behind you.

First, Mattheo. “She rarely ever gets like that.”

Then Theo. “Only when she panics.” And Blaise. “Her face was almost as pale as Malfoy’s.”

And Draco, but with a tinge of hurt in his voice. “She barely looked at me.” He glances in your direction, contemplating. “Give her time. We’ll look after her tonight. Someone tell Pansy.”

The rest you don’t hear, feeling embarrassment creeping in. You wish they’d just let it go and forget about it, cowering from the attention it’s bringing to you. Your pace quickens as the heat spreads across your cheeks, eager to be alone in your hideout at the castle.

Too focused on your path, you slam into someone’s chest as they’re coming out of the bakery you’re passing.

“Ugh, Lorenzo, I’m so sorry,” you say frantically, smoothing out his jacket and moving past him, never meeting his gaze. His face contorts with confusion and concern. He watches you take off then turns back to the group.

“Something off with that one...” The boys give him a knowing look.

“No shit, Berkshire.” Mattheo sneers.

—

After what felt like an eternity, you had reached the castle and darted to your hideout: a corner balcony high up in one of the towers facing the pitch. Leaning your elbows on the edge of the balcony, you watch the sun slowly descend into its eventual bed of twilight. Then, the spiraling begins.

Thinking back, you’ve never really dealt with something like this because of who your friends were. No one dared to even step too close to you, aware of what the consequences would be. But you weren’t on school grounds this time. You felt… unprepared. Lost. Violated. Guilty.

Does running away make me weak?

Why can’t I stand up for myself?

How did he gain control so quickly?

Did I ask for it? Did I do something wrong?

This is too much. It feels ridiculous and quite frankly enraging that you considered this being your fault. The stress is exhausting.

You let yourself relax, laying down on a stone bench and staring up at the black night sky. You start to mentally identify the stars in view, something Draco taught you to do when you’d get anxious. It always worked, as evident by the many hours you fell asleep. Upon awakening, you gasp as your watch reads 1AM.

You hear footsteps rustling around nearby, and echoing voices calling your name. Shit. They’re looking for me.

Sneaking around corners, you tiptoe around, trying not to get yourself noticed. Maybe, just maybe you can get back to the dungeons without getting caught. Until you hear the voice of your best friend, who admittedly, you could really use right now.

“Pans?” You whisper, catching a glimpse of her shadow down the corridor. Her head whips around before running to you urgently.

“Where the hell have you been?! The boys are going mad looking for-” She stops abruptly when you force yourself into her arms, hugging her tight and burying your face in her shoulder. Her tone softens to that of an older sister. “Oh, Y/N,” She rubs your back while your eyes well up.

“Fuck, Pans, I don’t know what to do.” You say through subtle sobs, holding back as much as you can for her sake. She looks at you with a questioning look before your words stumble out, caked in distress.

“There’s a boy at the bookstore, MY bookstore, and-and, and he’s there all the time now, following me around, and…”

“Y/N, calm down. You’re okay. It’s just me, sweetie.” She says, running a hand through your hair as her eyes shift to someone behind you; their voice deep, slow, and filled with angst.

“There’s… a… what?” He asks, the voice you recognize as Draco’s ringing off the walls. Mattheo, Theo, and Blaise walk into frame behind him when they realize he found you. The sight of them strikes you; your fiercely loyal group of friends that would go to the ends of the earth for you. To your surprise, you are relieved to see them.

But their anger is palpable. Draco’s jaws clenched tight. Theo’s heavy eyes claiming the darkness. Blaise’s hands rolled into fists. Lorenzo steps forward, eyes soft, holding out a gentle hand. 

“Let’s get you to the common room, and you can tell us-” he turns to the other boys before emphasizing his next words, “-what you’re comfortable with, if you want to talk at all.”

You nod in agreement, taking his hand while Pansy takes your other one. In your head, you’re thanking whatever higher power put Lorenzo on this planet. The voice of reason amidst all chaos.

—

It’s nearly 2AM now. You’re sat on the common room couch in front of the blazing fireplace under a mess of blankets, warming up after your frigid nap. Theo on your left, Lorenzo on your right holding your tea, Draco and Mattheo sitting on the coffee table facing you, with Blaise and Pansy on the floor. All with mixed looks of curiosity, empathy, and sheer rage.

After thinking it over, you decided to prioritize yourself for once. A lot of people don’t realize how hard a decision that can be. This is a risky favor to ask for. But there’s only a couple truly precious things in the world you can’t live without, and this is one of them. You want your fucking bookstore back.

So, you tell them. Everything.

As you recall the events of the last few weeks, you feel the air become tense. Blaise looks like he’s about to combust. Theo reaches for your hand, letting you fiddle with the bracelet on his wrist. You hear Pansy call this boy every name in the book under her breath, your favorite being “bastardly filth”. Draco and Mattheo listen, periodically looking at each other with knowing stares, having their own wordless conversation. You know those looks. Plotting looks.

When you finish, you’re briefly met with silence, temporarily paralyzing you. Do they believe me?

You break the stillness. “I suppose I’m making a big deal out of something quite trivial.” You say to them, diminishing your story, and for what?

Mattheo stands up, ushering Blaise and Pansy out of the way as he kneels in front of you. He rests a comforting hand on your knee, his eyes glowing with brutal honesty.

“It’s really very simple, little dove. You’re in danger, we take down the threat. I can assure you we all agree that your safety is anything but trivial.” He states. He gives your knee a squeeze. “Gonna be honest though, Y/N. It’s going to be ugly for him when he meets us.”

You look up to Draco, who’s been oddly quiet since you all got back. You hold his gaze as you respond.

“Good. Send him my regards.” You reply, earning a wicked grin from him, his eyes suddenly crinkled and brimming with pride. Everyone shifts a bit in their seats, wrapping up the late night discussion.

Draco strides over to you, taking the teacup from your hands and setting it down on a side table. He looks so handsome like this, facing you on the couch with his hair disheveled and the top of his shirt buttons undone. The glow from the fire accenting his features, so sharp yet yearning for sleep. He takes your face in his warm hands.

“I need you to hear me right now. Listening?” he asks. You give an unconvincing nod as his thumb caresses your cheek. Yes, but damn you make it hard to.

His stare intensifies, pulling you from your trance and forcing you to dial in to his statement.

“Never feel bad for wanting them to pay for the pain and discomfort they inflict on you. Their reasons were senseless, yours are justified.”

For the first time tonight, just for a moment, you feel sure of yourself. You wrap your arms around him, pulling yourself closer, his body becoming your safe haven. His hands nestle you to his chest as you feel him place a kiss on the top of your head.

He loves you and you know it. He’ll wait for this to pass, for things to be right. He’ll wait for you to feel whole and secure again. And he’ll do whatever it takes to help you get you there, even if that means giving you space.

As Pansy sees the two of you off to bed, you repeat his sentiment to her. “My god, that bloody boy is down bad, and I mean bad, for you Y/N.”

Ascending the staircase to your dorm, you faintly hear Draco informing the boys of the plan.

“Tomorrow. Noon.” He demands. The boys nod. He pauses before adding another instruction.

“Oh, and we’re gonna need a bag. We’ve got books to bring home.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[mzzledmutt]

—PREPARE FOR TROUBLE

starring.ᐟ keigo takami x rumi usagiyama x tōya todoroki x reader

synopsis.ᐟ “prepare for trouble and make it double!” An innocent night of fun with your ill intentioned bestfriend ends in bumping and grinding with a heroic duo.

warnings.ᐟ SMUT, fem!reader, alcohol use, drug use (weed + coke), clubbing, one night stand, foursome (ffmm), public sex, unprotected vaginal + anal sex, cunnilingus, blowjobs, overstimulation, fingering, creampies, pegging, spit, spanking, slapping, hair pulling, biting, squirting, exhibitionism + voyeurism, feather play, temperature play, pet names (princess, doll, dove, honey, mommy + daddy) used

word count.ᐟ 10.6k words

m.mutt 𐂯 this is a refresh/rewrite of an older fic i have since deleted on tumblr! this fic is/has been cross posted on my ao3! i hope you enjoy!!

SWEATY bodies bump and grind against each other as loud music plays in the humid club. Girls sit in seats at the bar, flirting with sleazy men hoping to get a free drink and cash. Douchebags hit on everything they see with thighs and breasts as if they were chicken.

It made you feel gross.

Clubbing was definitely not your favorite activity in the world. The only reason you still sat in this place was due to a text you had gotten from your friend, an offer to save you from boredom under his own rules, of course.

On a night like this, you’d rather be sprawled across your bed. Masturbating to whatever degenerate porn you could find that caught your interest for longer than a minute.

You sat at your little table, tucked away at the back of the club, sipping on the half-empty drink in front of you. Your friend had run off to grab more drinks and hadn’t returned in a while. You were so tempted to flirt your way into another drink, stronger than whatever fruity concoction you had ordered the first time.

Come on now, it’s not like you didn't wear this dress for nothing. The way it hugged your skin and complimented your curves was sure to lure in anyone willing to spend their money on you.

It seems you’d have to resort to that soon considering a dark-haired demon, left on your own.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear though. After what felt like an hour, the familiar mop of black hair crosses your peripheral and slides into the seat across from you. “You left me, asshole.” You complain and he snickers, setting a drink in front of you.

“Sorry, princess.” A soft smile tugs on his scared lips, accented by his snake bites. “Got a little distracted.” He digs in his pocket, tongue poking from between his lips in concentration. You grab your plastic cup and sip the liquid from the little black straw.

“Oh, fuck.” You hiss at the taste, this was much stronger than your previous drink. “This is what I needed. Thank you, Dabi.” You smile sweetly at the man across from you as he sends a wink your way. “Anytime…there it is.” His hand is quickly pulled from his pocket. A rectangular tin, a lighter, and a small clear baggie are tossed onto the table.

“You wanna get fucked up, princess?” A sly smirk splays across his face in the dim club lighting.

Hesitantly, you crack open the tin seeing about seven blunts laid side by side, in the clear baggie was loose white powder. “It’s’ll I could grab, my plug is going out of town.” You continue to stare down at the items on the table as you sip. “You obviously don’t have to, but I’m definitely gonna do a line or two.” You weighed out your options, looking back up at him.

He looked pretty in the low lighting, the soft blue tones of the flashing lights illuminating the lower half of his face. Perfectly concealing him in mysterious shadows. Dabi was always pretty though, scarred flesh molded into an alluring figure.

You stop your meticulous studying of his face before focusing back on the substances before you.

You grab a blunt from the tin and pull it to your lips. “You mind?” Cerulean eyes light up and his smirk grows. “Anytime, doll.” The flame sparks on his index finger and he holds it out to you. You lean forward, lighting the end of the blunt and taking a few puffs while it is held tight between your lips. The smoke flows freely as you sit back and blow it out.

“‘S a new strain, tell me how ya’ like it.” Dabi lights his own, holding it between his teeth for just a moment. He takes his drags like a pro, watching as you relax into your seat after each puff. “I thought you were stayin’ relatively clean?” You bump the baggie on the table.

Dabi huffs a laugh, averting all eye contact he once held. “There’s no point anymore.” He says it as if it were the easiest thing in the world. You would’ve pressed but, it’s hard enough being the friend of a villain.

Making him regress into his shell wouldn't help.

“See anyone you like?” He’s changing the conversation. “Nope. Everyone’s boring.” You take another drag, blowing the smoke down onto the table. “I see what you mean, princess.” Dabi leans back in his chair, eyes scanning over the room. “Not even a bimbo to fuck for the night, this blows.” - “You wanted to come here!” You mention as he sounded so bored.

“For once this place is empty, full o’ normies.” He rolls his eyes. “Why do you typically come here?” You finally ask, leaning forward to hear him better.

“I used to meet my dealer here before he switched locations. Maybe find a piece o’ ass or two but tonight it’s dry.” Dabi downs the rest of his drink, setting the cup on the table.

“Didn’t a new club open like a few blocks away?” You lean down to sip your drink again. “Think so, but that’s one of those high-end places. Only pros and horny fans are gonna populate that joint.” He remarks, grabbing his cup and scowling at its emptiness.

“Fuck, I’m gettin’ a new drink.” He huffs, pushing off the table. “You want another, doll?” He quirks a brow as he towers over you. “Nah, I’m alright thank you.” Dabi shrugs and walks off.

You sat at the table, taking drags from your blunt and sipping your drink. At least the music in this place wasn’t bad. The DJ playing an upbeat RnB song. You sit by yourself for some time, gently swaying in your chair. The liquor and weed were hitting now.

Eyes slightly blurry as you dazed off into the distance, music flowing through your ears. You were on cloud nine, with no clue of how much time was passing. You snapped from your daze when your phone buzzed violently on the table.

Unlocking it, you open your messages and see Dabi texted you.

hey

heyyyy

read

doll

doing a line off this blonde assss

read

shits magical

read

you left for a drink??

sent

took a detour

read

You hadn’t even noticed he took the tin and the baggie. At least you still had your blun—your eyes trail over and notice it had burnt out a while ago.

“Damn it!”

A soft sigh leaves your lips as you rest your chin on your hand. He was going to be awhile. What was the point of ever dragging you to this club if he was going to go fuck some bitch and leave you lonely? You had no interest in flirting with any of the randoms who danced or sat by themselves.

You knew you had a few admirers here, they gawked and mumbled as you walked past but, with Dabi’s intimidating demeanor and your lack of interest, you knew they’d never show up.

You watch as a couple across from you make out. Hands in their hair, tongues down their throats, and their hips rocking against each other. You made a face of disgust, a festering jealousy broiling within you.

You debated leaving the club, catching a ride, and going home. It wasn’t often you got to hang out with Dabi but, if he were actually here and not spending his time elsewhere you wouldn’t be in this predicament.

There was no way home that wasn’t sketchy or incredibly inconvenient. So, you should grin and bear it. Fuck Dabi, his short attention span, and his high sex drive.

“What’s a sweet thing like you doing here all alone?” A hand grabs the back of your chair, grazing your skin. You flinch, turning quickly to see an older man with golden and silver teeth. He was nursing a cup in his unoccupied hand. “‘M not alone.” You pick your drink back up, needing to keep it close to your body.

“Oh, I know. I saw that jackass walk off with some pretty boy not too long ago.” The man circles your table, sitting in Dabi’s previous seat.

“So, he ain’t your boyfriend. He’s too busy chasing after the same tail.” The man laughs, loud and hearty. It made you uncomfortable so, you laughed awkwardly. Hoping Dabi would save you. “You smell good, baby. Like earthy and shit.” - “Weed.” You curtly mumble, pulling your cup back to your lips. “You’re smelling weed.” You take a long drink, hoping he would just get the hint and walk off.

“How about you dance for me, hmm?” You furrow your brows, looking at him as if he had three heads. “I’ve been here all night and haven’t seen ya’ dance. C’mon, sweetness.” He leaned forward, resting more on the table. You go to send him off before he pulls out a wad of cash.

Your reaction was very visible. Eyebrows pulled high, jaw slightly falling slack, and eyes wide. The man laughs at your reaction. “I can make it worth your while.” He offers, with a grungy smirk.

“Whatever you want.” You take the offer and stand.

Before you could move on to dancing, you finished off your drink knowing you’d need to be more intoxicated to do this. Your body sways with the music and your hands trace your figure. Mind hazy from the drugs and alcohol, eyes watching the other figures move in the dim lighting, only truly appearing when neon lights flickered over them.

The DJ changed the song to a more sensual new age song, appealing to the young adults and older clubgoers trying to stay relevant. Your hands run up your thighs, lifting the skirt to your black velvet dress, showing just a few centimeters below your panties. The man watches from the table, bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

You flash him a smile and scoop your breast from your dress, holding the soft mounds in your hands. You pull a nipple into your mouth, sucking on the bud before adjusting your appearance so no one else would see. If you were gonna put on a show for money, you were gonna do it right.

Your tipsy, fluid dancing was disrupted when a body pressed against yours. A smirk curls up on your lips as you begin to grind your ass into the figure behind you. With a quick swivel of your hips, you determine your partner is either a woman or a grower.

The hairs on your neck stand to a point as hot breath brushes against your smooth skin, making slight arousal begin to form in the deepest pits of your stomach.

The mysterious figure grabs your waist, pulling you taut against them. As your back collides with their chest you realize your intruder is a woman. “Hi, princess.” The woman’s husky voice sends tingles through your body and straight to your hot cunt. “Hey.” You replied, continuing to grind into the woman’s lower half.

“You look absolutely delectable, honey.” Her tongue seemed to whip at the top of your ear, leaving saliva to cool and send goosebumps down your arms. “You haven’t even seen my face,” You quip, reaching you and behind you to hold her neck.

“What if I’m a horrid creature.” A soft fan of breath hits your neck again as she laughs. “I’ve been watching you from afar for a while, princess.”

You noticed she was hiding you as you danced against her, your bodies concealed from the man watching you. Her hands softly rub at your hips, trailing to your ass whenever you’d lean over to throw it back. Pussy flooding with slick as you feel her hardly noticeable thrusts against you as you grind your ass against her.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” She asked words like the melody of a jealous love song. “He’s at home,”

You whispered, making the woman pull back a little. “He’s pink, silicone, and needs to be plugged in after I cum.” You laughed at her reaction. “Fuck,” She laughs. “You scared me, sweetness. Thought I was gonna have to beat a prick up tonight.” Your heart fluttered for a moment.

“You beat a man up for me? Already?” You were flattered, truly flattered a stranger would be so forward. “Honey, I know I’d do anything for you.”

Her words were thick and sweet, almost silencing your rampant mind from the question on the top of your tongue. Who is the stranger who decided to dance with you?

Reluctantly, you pull yourself away from the woman leaving your body tingling and begging for her warmth. You turn to face to view your mysterious female partner and your heart pounds faster.

Your eyes widen at the sigh of the tall woman. Hair as white as snow draped down her back matching the fluffy ears atop her head, a contrast to her deep, brown skin. The lilac two-piece she worse accentuated her vermillion eyes.

“Hi, honey bunch.” She bats her gorgeous lashes at you, clearly taking note of how you guffawed at her.

She looked so strong. Her torso was covered by a low-cut, spaghetti-strap top. Her thighs, lord her thighs, muscles bulged from the confines of her maxi skirt, the same color as her shirt. Her breasts nearly spilled from the top, muscles flexing from their cotton prison.

She was going to ruin you. “You okay? Am I losing you, honey?” Her hand comes up to cup your jaw, gently stroking one spot by your lips.

Her red-painted lips spoke words of honey and like a bee, you latched onto every word.

“‘M fine, you’re really pretty.” You compliment, your fingers coming up to play with the ends of her blazer. “Why thank you, love.” Her gaze was so intimidating, deep vermilion eyes boring into yours with lust. Your lust-filled grinding had stopped due to your admiration of the woman before, making you feel out of place from the other club-goers around you.

“I want you.” You murmur before pulling back from her. A tan, manicured hand reaches out quickly to grab your own, keeping you at arm’s length.

The woman watches in confusion as you shake your hand free and throw her a smirk.

You move into the light, trailing hands up and down your body as you sway. The song playing was sensual and slow.

Your eyes trace over the woman’s form as you dance by yourself, knowingly teasing and seducing her. Pearly white teeth sink into her red-painted bottom lip as she watches you lift your dress to flash your panties in the large crowd. Two fingers dip into your mouth, collecting saliva and trailing down your body. Your hips buck slightly as your fingers come into contact with your wet panties and your sensitive clit.

You gently caress your clit and softly moan.

Red eyes darkened with lust as she grabbed you again, pulling you by your hips and holding you close. “Oho, seems I’ve got myself a little slut, hmm?” She chided, staring down at you. “You’re fucking filthy, huh?”She seemed to moan, blown pupils concealing her blood-red gaze. “Did you like the show?” You ask, giving her your most innocent look and licking your lips.

“I loved the show, honey. I wanna see more. I wanna see your cunt drip with arousal and cum after I eat you out.” The woman’s mouth like velvet as she brushed her lips against yours. Shaky breath leaves you as her hand's cradle and squeeze your ass. “I never caught your name, princess.” Your arms come to rest upon her shoulders. “I never threw it,” You giggle, making her give a stern look.

“I’m ___, I like ‘Honey’ a lot though.” Your teeth gently sink into your bottom lip. “Name’s Rumi.” Rumi, a pretty name for an even prettier girl. It replayed in your mind, an echoing melody. Rumi, Ru-mi, Roo-Me, Ruh-oo-me.

Rumi.

She’s pulling you away before you can argue, leading your pliable form to a booth across the dance floor. You glide through crowds and slip past people, hands interlocked as you walk.

It’s disorienting when Rumi pushes you onto the pleather seats, sliding in beside you. It’s pathetic how your cunt throbs when her hands rest on your hips. “You’re so pretty, honey.” Rumi's grip is possessive as if you were her prize for the evening.

“Look at you,” Her hands are roaming, creeping up your torso until they’re cupping your breast. A staticky feeling fluttered through your body at Rumi’s touch. Eventually, her hands move up to your cheeks, smushing your lips together. “Beautiful.” She leans in and softly kisses you.

Rumi’s hands eventually find their way to squeeze and grope at other parts of your body. Your lips are interlocked, tongues briefly intermingling. Rumi breaks the kiss, leaving you to pant hopelessly.

“You want me?” You nod, stupefied. With a quirk of her brow, you compose yourself enough to scramble a plea. “Isn’t that what I said on the floor?” Rumi smirks, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear before leaning in to kiss you once more. Your lips meet, hers soft and sweet, a subtle burn behind her kiss from her previous alcohol consumption.

Rumi’s hands cradle your head and grasp at your hip. The kiss is deepened as her tongue glides against your own. As if your bodies were magnets you found yourselves gravitated towards each other. You shuffled onto her lap, your thighs strewn across hers as she held you closer.

Rumi’s hands escape to your waist as yours escape to hold the back of her head. Almost swapping positions. She grabs and gropes, pinching the skin and grinning as you cry out. Your mind is foggy, you’re present but, your body’s on fire.

You feel good, better than good. Your core throbs and aches, hips bucking as you beg for attention. Rumi obliges your silent pleas, she gently strokes your thigh. Skilled fingers just barely brushed against the thin fabric of your panties.

Your lips move in sync, her dominating yours as you submissively accept. Rumi teases your sensitive skin, dragging her nails drown your thighs, roaming towards your ass only to move away.

You pull back for air, panting heavily as Rumi kisses your neck. Hazy eyes darted around the club, hoping no one was watching you and your newest lover and it seemed as if you both were invisible to the intoxicated crowd. They were dancing, drinking, laughing, anything but, looking at your booth.

You pull Rumi back by her hair and smash your lips against hers. She admired your bold move but, shut you down soon after. Her teasing finally comes to an end as her fingers rub against your clothed clit. Your cunt leaks with arousal, the sticky fluid clinging to the panties adding the pool on the thin fabric.

Rumi pulls your panties to the side and slides her finger through your soaked cunt, collecting the juices you produced. She pulls back from the kiss and shoves her two fingers into your mouth, replacing the warm feeling of her soft tongue. Your eyes, wide and naive, stare into hers.

“Go on,” She gives you an encouraging nod. “Taste yourself.” This wasn’t your first rodeo by any means yet you felt so intimidated by her. Her presence alone was enough to make you feel small, almost insignificant.

Slowly, your tongue dances around her fingers. Between each digit and over each knuckle, you clean her finger of your arousal and allow her to slip them away from your mouth.

Rumi's saliva-slick hand trails back to your throbbing core and her finger traces your clit, applying pressure, making you moan.

Her eyes bore into yours, asking for permission before she continued with her insatiable and filthy acts. “Yes.” Your voice was soft but Rumi heard you loud and clear. Her fingers began their descent into your hot, wet cunt. The way they curled and scissored against your walls forced moans and gasps from you.

You were thankful for the upbeat, loud song the DJ had chosen to play.

Rumi's fingers were like magic, bringing you quickly to your impending orgasm. Your hips rock with her motions hoping for more friction and control. Rumi notices your tactic and pins you in place, giving you a stern look when you pout. “You take what I give.” She mumbled, staring down at her fingers sliding into your slick pussy.

Her eyes watched as your pussy throbbed with every movement and arousal leaked into her hand.

A loud moan makes Rumi look up at you. You sat slouched on the booth, teeth sunken into your hand and eyes squeezed shut. “You close baby?” You nod rapidly as the knot in your stomach nearly bursts. “You can cum baby, go ahead. Cum for me, honey.” Rumi kisses your neck and ear.

A strangled moan gets caught in your throat as the tension finally snaps as your orgasm washes over you. Cum drips down onto the seat and into her hand making her praise and console you. “You did so well for me honey.” She praises, rubbing her free hand up and down your trembling thighs.

“So good for me.” Your heart pounded and your head seemed hazy, not only from the activities you had engaged in earlier. You pant and whimper as you calm down for the erotic scene. Rumi smiles down at you, watching as you come down from your high.

“C’mon baby, come back to me. Floatin’ off too far.” She kisses your forehead, cheeks, and nose. Anything to jump-start your mind. Soon your eyes refocus, settling on the hulking form before you. God damn, isn’t she gorgeous? “There’s my pretty girl.” She coos, smiling. “I’d take you somewhere to continue this but, I didn’t show up alone.” Rumi waves, looking over you, raising her hand, and then focusing back on you.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t relax though.” Your walls throbbed and you realized she never removed her fingers. “Oh, sorry love. Wanted you to be more attentive before I overstimulated ya’.” The white-haired woman suddenly leans over you protectively, flashing a smile at whoever is approaching.

“Thank you.” Her voice was thick. A waitress places two trays of drinks on the table. The smaller woman bows and skips off leaving you two alone.

“You’re starin’, pretty.” Rumi grabs one of the drinks and downs it. You hadn’t even realized your eyes never left her. Honestly, besides the overall brain fog, you were still trying to decipher who she was.

You wince, as everything around you seems to become louder. It’s like a kick in the chest. This sudden clarity shocks your senses, sobering you from all previous events. You almost feel winded and dizzy.

“Breathe for me, honey.” You do as told, shutting you as she holds you. Her fingers shift within you, pulling a heavy whine from your chest. Rumi coos softly, rubbing her thumb over your aching clit to soothe you.

Slowly, her fingers are pulled from your aching cunt, leaving you empty. It’s crude, the way she grins at your watchful gaze. Rumi pulls the digits into her mouth, groaning at the taste of you. You watch with bated breath as she cleans herself before pressing a kiss to your lips.

“I’m gonna need to taste you again before the night ends.” Her voice is sultry and silky. You nod dumbly.

You're moved back to your spot beside her, a hand resting on your thigh for comfort. She’s forcing you to drink water as she talks, it’s a little hard to hear her over the music but, you were just happy to be looking at her. Suddenly, she catches something in her peripheral.

“You bastard!” She shouts to a figure approaching the table.

“Walkin’ with a fuckin’ limp? Already? I thought you could hang Mr. Takami.” A bashful blonde strolls up to the table. “Shut up.” The man whines as another figure approaches behind him. Rumi laughs as you notice the man behind the blonde.

Fucking Dabi.

Both of your eyes widen seeing each other. “Did you bring your toy to meet me?” Dabi stared at you in shock, impressed but, shocked nonetheless. “No, I need to take a seat.” Rumi laughs a sound that focuses you. “Well then, this is ___. Honey, this is my best friend, Keigo.”

Holy fuck. As if this night couldn’t get any goddamn better. Of course, he had to choose the one blonde who was best friends with your hookup.

“Heyo.” Keigo slides into the seat across from you. “This is Dabi. Dabi, Rumi.” He gestures towards the woman. Keigo’s a pretty blonde, average height with a nice build but, you couldn’t see much dark, collared shirt. Behind him, pressed between his back and the booth were a set of vibrant red wings.

A pair you had seen on television and Dabi’s phone many times.

“So how’d you two meet?” He asks as he pulls Dabi to sit beside him. “Saw her on the dance floor,” Rumi's arm comes to wrap around your shoulder, keeping you close. “She’s so fluid when she moves.” A smug look falls on Keigo’s face.

“What about you?” Rumi asks, stopping Keigo before he speaks further. “Oh, I saw hi—“ He is interrupted by Dabi. “Saw him in the bathroom, he let me do a line off his ass.” His nonchalance made the statement feel so natural as if the words he said weren’t totally absurd.

“You were in there for much longer than just ‘doing a line.’” Rumi presses. “You’re a smart girl, you saw the limp.” Dabi chuckles, grabbing a drink from the tray before him.

“How come my business gets aired out and Rumi gets to stay quiet?” Keigo pipes in.

“Oh relax, birdie. Maybe later.” Rumi takes her shot. “I’m kinda curious too.” You kick Dabi’s shin, making him laugh. “It’s fine, I’ll pry it out of the bird later.” You all laugh, grabbing shots and chatting.

You're sticking looking between Rumi and Keigo. Back and forth as if you were almost programmed to do as, analyzing them. The markings by Keigo’s eyes, Rumi’s ears, and muscles. “You alright there, dove?” Keigo asks, noticing your movements. Dove.

It finally clicked and you felt like an idiot.

You had been dancing with a pro. Mirko to be exact. You were kissing and grinding and letting Mirko touch you. The Bunny hero was seen as any lesbian's wet dream. Her muscled stature, boisterous personality, and glowing face made her easy to love.

Dabi on the other hand had been with Hawks. Japan’s heartthrob and favorite hero. His charming words, striking quirk, and gorgeous looks left everyone in awe.

The Mirko and Hawks. The Bunny and Bird duo most of Japan would drop their panties for.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You grab another drink from the table, quickly downing it to suppress the sudden onslaught of thoughts. “Where the hell have you been, doll?” Dabi spoke from his spot across from you. “I could ask you the same.” He gives you a look, one that says “I asked you first.”

“Need I remind you? You left me.” You stated matter of factly. “I was propositioned by an old man for a grand.” Rumi chimes in, “I can attest to that, I saved her.” Dabi just rolls his eyes, used to your typical dramatics. “Did you take it?”

“Not the point.”

“Look, at least I gave you a heads up.” He argues in defense. “Not really.” A look of annoyance crossed his scarred face. “Yeah, yeah. I told you I’d be busy.”

“Not with fucking Hawks.” You muttered to not alert anyone who may have been eavesdropping. “Oh well, told you it was a blonde.” Dabi shrugs as if that removed all the blame from him. “Besides you didn’t tell me it was Mirko.”

At his words, you shrink on yourself. The truth finally spills from your lips. “I didn’t realize it was her…” The man blinks at you in silence before erupting with laughter. “How do you not realize you’re getting fingered by Mirko?” Keigo and Rumi do their best to suppress their own giggles.

“Will you shut up?” You whisper-yell in embarrassment. “Aw come on, don’t give her a hard time,” Keigo speaks after calming himself. “The only reason we come to this shithole is to go unnoticed.” Which made sense, everyone seemed so focused on their own worlds.

“So,” Rumi hums from beside you. “How do you two know each other?” You sigh dramatically. “He is, unfortunately, my best friend.” Dabi rolled his eyes, leaning back and folding his arms to rest behind his head.

“You adore me.” He replied smoothly. “Loathe, you. There’s a difference.” You correct him. “Sure, like you would know.” The dark-haired man scoffs, looking over at the crowd.

“Seems like there’s something more than friends here.” Keigo admits. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Didn’t say that but, there’s something.” You lock eyes with the hero, studying his features in the dim lighting.

Although your way of life and line of work prevent you from being too involved with heroic affairs, you’ve seen Keigo before. His glowing skin, perfect hair, shiny wings, and stylish clothes. He’s gorgeous, in person and on screen.

He looks different before you, obviously out of hero attire and a professional setting. His normal get up replaced by a black collared shirt and matching jeans. Although a visor no longer obstructed the view of his golden eyes, his saucer-like pupils did.

“What did you do to him?” You asked, remembering Rumi’s remark about his walking. “Why do you wanna know? Fear you’re missin’ out?” He laughs, throwing an arm around the blonde.

“Hell no. Shut up!” You pout, leaning further into Rumi. “Don’t get so defensive. You know I gladly will.” You can feel a slight jealousy brewing inside of you, almost making your eyes twitch. “Take you in the back and bend you over. Want me to take a line off your ass too?” The rattle of his deep voice went straight to your cunt.

“Or do you wanna go back to mine?” You shift in your seat, cunt throbbing and panties soaking once more.

“That’s enough.” You grumble, face flushed. Dabi knew the perfect way to get under your skin, especially if he wanted something. “I mean, I really wanna get out of here.” Keigo leans his head on your friend's shoulder.

Dabi grins as Rumi also agrees. “We have a place nearby, it’s easier that way.” She says, not even giving you a moment to speak. All parties seemed to agree but you. You watch as Dabi kisses Keigo’s foreheads before whispering something inaudible in his ear.

Your cheeks are pinched and your fave is turned towards Rumi. “We should head out,” Rumi’s voice filled your head as she gets closer. “I wanna get you outta this dress.” She nibbles at your ear. “Does that sound good to you? Goin’ to a hotel or somethin’ and lettin’ me wreck this pretty pussy?” You have to stay quiet so you don’t moan. “Y-yes, please.” Your voice, weak and trembling.

Rumi and Keigo glance at each other and give a nod. “Let’s go.” Rumi helps you up from the booth, holding onto your arm as you wobble for a moment. She brushes herself off, quickly linking arms with Keigo.

“Look at me.” A rough voice commands, fingers finding your chin. You're forced to look into Dabi’s intimidating gaze. “You okay?” Before you can speak he’s brushing lint off of your dress and fixing your hair. “I’m okay, Dabi.” His thumb cautiously wipes stray eyeliner from beneath your water line.

“We can dip at any time. You wanna stop? We’ll go. Understand?” You nod quickly, not trusting your voice at the moment. “Good girl,” He pressed his lips to your forehead, making your eyes flutter shut. “Don’t need you puttin’ yourself in a bad situation f’me or because you’re starstruck, m’kay?” You nod again.

“I need words, pipsqueak.” A shiver wracked through your body. “Okay..”-“Good, thank you, princess.” You and Dabi’s relationship is more than complicated. You're not together by any means but, you keep the bed warm for each other. He’s never shown particular interest in you, besides your time spent together and jokes to mess with you.

Dabi has taken it upon himself to always be your caretaker. He's always there, even if you don’t see him. Especially in a situation like this, he’d never let you sleep with someone without his presence. For some reason, you abide by his rule.

“I drove us here, keeps things more inconspicuous,” Rumi says, tossing some cash on the table. “I’ll go pull the car around, there’s a lounge in the back.” She straightened her dress and threw her long hair into a bun. “Kei,” The blonde peers around Dabi. “Get them back there and I'll let you know when I’m here.” - “I gotcha. C’mon guys.”

Rumi kisses your cheek before she leaves, giving you a wink before she disappears into the crowd. Dabi throws an arm over your shoulder as Keigo grabs his hand, leading you all to a dim hallway lined with pictures and tacky decor.

A security guard and a black metal door were the only things here and as you approached man opened it. Four large men, dressed in security uniforms, turned to watch you enter. “Evenin’.” Keigo’s voice was chipper, he even wore a smile.

“Just waiting for our ride. Do you mind?” The men look at you, eyes flickering up and down. “Right this way Mr. Takami.” One of the men rises from his seat, unclamping a velvet rope and pulling the curtains back.

“Room number four is cleared, sir.” You follow behind them, entering the dim room. “Well, aren’t you helpful? I’ll be sure to leave a good tip.” You looked to Dabi. “Y’alright?” He murmurs, continuing to keep you close.

“I’m okay, I swear.” You nudge your head into his shoulder. “You’ve been all over the place, princess. Mind keeps wanderin’ away.” Keigo takes a seat, pulling his phone from his pocket.

Dabi lets you go, following Keigo's lead. He sits with enough room between him and Keigo for you to squeeze in. “C’mon, get comfortable.” Dabi pats the space. Both of their thighs were spread, leaving you practically no room to sit without sitting in them.

“Rumi shouldn’t be too long but,” Keigo tucks his phone away. “She parked on the other side of the street.” He shrugs, adjusting his position. “Might as well take a seat.” His gaze was predatory, the way his hips shifted, exposing his dickprint.

You roll your eyes and take the seat, ending up spread on their laps. They don’t mess around, hands quickly coming to touch and rub at your figure. Their faces in your neck, kissing at the skin and tickling you with their breaths.

“You’re so pretty, dove.” Keigo mutters, his hand squeezing at your thigh. “I like this color on you.” Dabi nips at your lobe. “Thank you.” You’re already breathless, almost overwhelmed by the attention you’re receiving.

“Did you say ‘thank you’ to Keigo?” He asks, voice husky. “Thank you, Keigo.” You pant out, locking eyes with him. “Good girl.” Dabi coos, his hand coming to cradle the nape of your neck. “Isn’t he pretty?”

You're positive your pupils match Keigo’s. Dilated and hazy but, full of lust. His hands creep around your waist as he pulls you close. “Mhm,” You hum, entranced with the man before you. “You should kiss him, pretty.” He felt like your conscious or the little devil sitting on your shoulder.

“For me, yeah?” Egging you on for mutual satisfaction. Keigo kisses you, unable to take the tension much longer. Lips mashing, hands roaming, and soft groans rumbling from your chests. Dabi watches with a wide grin, one hand on your neck and the other on Keigo’s clothed dick.

He would occasionally squeeze both of you, relishing in your moans.

Keigo’s hands move to your breasts, squeezing the flesh in his palms before slipping his hands beneath the fabric. He breaks from the kiss to ogle your tits, pressing his face between them, kissing them, and sucking on the skin. “Keigo, shit.” You bite your finger to suppress your sounds.

Keigo worships your tits. Lapping at and sucking on your nipples, tweaking them between his fingertips. He left hickeys in his wake, covering your chest in lovebites to remember him by. The warmth of his tongue in your sensitive nipples flooded your cunt.

Dabi’s hands left their positions, soon one was trailing up and down your thigh. The other was unbuckling his jeans and delving beneath the fabric of his boxers to stroke his aching erection.

You grab Dabi’s hand, placing it exactly where you needed him. His large hand covered your entire clothes cunt, his fingers press along the fabric. “One time not enough?” He asks in a hushed tone. “Please, I don’t ask for much.”

“Yeah right.” Dabi scoffs but, obliges your plea. Your panties are shifted to the side exposing your soaked pussy to the cold air. You whine loudly as his finger presses against your clit, the skin-to-skin feeling almost foreign.

The men had focused their attention on you. Keigo worshiped your breasts as he stroked himself. Dabi made quick work of stimulating your clit, drawing tight circles in the bundle of nerves. Your juices were coating his fingers, causing them to slip occasionally.

“You’re soaked.” Dabi coos, allowing his fingers to glide through your slick folds. “Ya’ like me spreadin’ you open?” You mewl at his words, squirming in your spot. He snickers, watch as you watch him attentively, awaiting his next touch.

Two thick digits circle your aching cunt before delving into the source of slick. Your back arched at the intrusion, hands flying down to grab his. Dabi’s fingers slowly pump into you, rendering any fight against him useless.

You’re soon weak, laid across him and Keigo, on display for anyone who may pass through. Your cunt squeezes around him, gushing from the slightest ministrations. You're already sensitive, having an orgasm ripped out of you once before.

Now Dabi’s assault on your poor cunny felt like overkill. His thumb was pressed to your clit, tight circles traced on your skin, his fingers deep in your core, Keigo’s hot mouth on your tits.

It’s becoming too much.

“Kei, c’mere.” Dabi broke the static of your moans, guiding their faces together before locking into a deep kiss. You're pliant and needy beneath them, helpless watching from below as they make out. It's slow, passionate, something that makes your heart skip a beat. They seemed comfortable as if they’d been in this scenario before. Knowing, Dabi, they have.

Keigo writhed in his spot, softly thrusting into his hand for any kind of friction.

Dabi refuses to skip a beat, his fingers increase with pace. You cry out from beneath them, soaking the fabric below you.

Dabi breaks the kiss, pulling Keigo up and into his lap. “S’fuckin’ pretty.” He mutters, grabbing the blonde’s jaw. Heavy eyes, filled with lust, meet your own. You stood dumbly in the room, fingers twisting strands of hair. “For someone so hellbent on gettin’ fucked tonight, you’re bein’ quiet distance.” His brow quirks up, asking you to give him some excuse.

“Does it feel good, princess?”

“Speak up.”

“It feels so good, please don’t stop!” Your pretty eyes are full of tears, pleading with him to keep going. Keigo, ever the pleaser, locks you into a deep kiss. You hum in contentment, eyes fluttering shut. Keigo is quick and needy, a predator devouring his prey.

His kiss was hungry. All spit, tongue, and teeth. Hands wandering, tugging, and squeezing at whatever they can find.

Keigo pulls away almost as quickly as he sprung towards you. He’s a panting mess of blonde hair and disheveled clothing. “I need to taste that pretty pussy.” He heaves between bated breaths. “Ya’ gonna let me, dove?” He doesn’t give you a moment to speak, latching onto your neck once more leaving pretty purple marks against your skin.

“Car’s out back let’s—“ Dabi is the only one coherent enough to notice Rumi in the doorway, sending her a two-fingered wave. She watched as you writhed in Keigo’s grasp, soft moans spilling from your spit-soaked lips.

“I hate to break the party up but, if we don’t leave right now I’m gonna slut you all out in front of everyone.”

None of you waited around for another order. Scrambling to dress yourselves and exit the dingy building. It didn’t take long to get to their hotel, a ten-minute drive max.

Rumi sat in the driver's seat, struggling to keep her eyes on the road. The rest of you piled into the back of the vehicle, a perfect distraction for your driver. Grinding, kissing, moaning, spanking each other. Her eyes would flicker between the streets in front of her and the backseat.

Rumi desperately wished she could just watch, pull over to the side of the road, and throw all caution to the wind. She wanted to watch as you and Hawk’s sloppily made out in the backseat, tongue tangling and grinding against each other's thighs but, the rearview mirror would have to suffice.

Once arriving at the hotel, she helped untangle the mess of limbs and escorted you all to their room. She scolded Keigo as he nearly sunk to his knees in the elevator, reminding him of the cameras watching their every move.

You had to behave until getting into their room and once you did, you were aghast. Your eyes widened as you looked around, no longer focused on your partners behind you. “This place costs more than my rent.” You awed, looking around. Rumi and Keigo snicker, licking up and getting comfortable.

There’s a sudden gust of wind, lifting the skirt of your dress and you’re surrounded for a moment by a plume of crimson. You turn, and watch as Keigo stretches his wings. They almost double in size, effectively dwarfing you beneath him. He wore a proud smile on his face, wings back to their full appearance.

“Sorry, dove. Feels weird not having them around.” You yelp as something brushes against your nipples before a red feather slips from between your breasts and onto the wings of the hero before you. “Pervert.” You tease, making him chuckle.

“Come with me.” Keigo takes your hand pulling you behind him. He leads you from the entryway to the closed door of the bedroom. Two feathers pushed the doors open revealing a stunning bedroom. Your jaw falls in shock once more.

The room was huge, decked in neutral-toned colors, floor-to-ceiling windows, mood lighting, and a large bed in the center. “Seems like you two were plannin’ on bringin’ someone home.” Dabi's voice made you jump, he stood in the doorway beside Keigo.

“It wasn’t exactly Rumi’s plan.” He admits, leaning against the taller man. Dabi pulls the hero close, pressing a kiss to his hairline. You were too enraptured with the room to hear their conversation only for Keigo to speed past you.

He collapses onto the bed, sprawling out onto the sheets of the massive bed.

You jump feeling a quick smack to your ass. “Get on up there, princess.” Dabi coos, following behind Keigo. You watch as he kisses the blond, straddling his waist, and pinning his hands beside his head. “You heard him, right?” Rumi’s voice scared you. “Relax, honey.”

“And take that pretty dress off, I wanna get a few things.” Rumi was already taking off her heels, allowing them to clatter to the floor.

You followed her orders perfectly, stripping yourself of your dress only to be stopped by a warm hand. “Let me help you.” Dabi stared at you with such intensity and lust, a look you’ve seen from him many times but, this was different. A kind of gentleness resting behind his gaze.

“Da—“ He hushes you. Carefully, his hands slip beneath the strap of your dress, knocking them off your shoulders. “Calm down, doll.” His hands were hot as they pulled your dress down your legs, lips attached to your skin, leaving lavender memories for you to find later.

You're gently pushed onto the bed and he follows suit, back to kissing your sensitive skin.

Keigo moves to the other side of you, kissing your thighs in worship. You felt as if you were on a cloud, having two men adore your body felt amazing. The men met at your hipbones, staring at each other over you before leaning in for another heated kiss.

Their tongues tangled with each other, strings of spit slipping from their mouths and down onto your heated skin. You writhed and whimpered, watching the two men delve into such intimacy. Keigo's hand was quick to find your clothed cunt, dragging his fingers up and down your soaked folds. Your hips canted up, breaking their kiss. “Calm down, princess.” Dabi’s voice made you shiver, heart pounding harder in your chest.

His scarred lips are pressed against your panty-clad clit, eliciting a beautiful moan from your kiss-swollen lips. He sloppy kissed your clit, laving over it with his tongue, moaning each time you writhed beneath him and the blonde.

A throat clearing makes your eyes snap open.

Rumi stands at the end of the bed, lilac strap-on standing proudly before her. “I see you all are getting along well.” She gets a chorus of moans in return. Your panties were soaked in drool from the men, all of it mixing with your arousal and making it drip and coat your cunt and ass. “Such a sight for sore eyes,” Rumi crawls onto the bed, slowly. Dabi and Keigo slowly pull back from your cunt as she made her way towards you. “Such obedient boys, hmm?” She grabbed their jaw.

Keigo melted immediately, a doe-eyed look on his face while Dabi was the complete opposite. A look of annoyance and embarrassment washes over him before he pulls from her grip.

“Thank you for gettin’ her nice n’ wet f’me.” Her red gaze was now on you and you nearly cried. She was all muscle and curves.

Heavy tits sitting perfectly on her chest, thick thighs on full display, wet pussy hidden by her harness and strap. She noticed your gaze, spitting on her hand and slicking up the toy. “You wan’ this? Hmm?” She hums, teasing you without even touching you. “You want Mommy’s big cock inside you, baby?” You whimpered loudly, nodding quickly. She laughs at you, loud and mean. “Yeah? Okay, I’ll give it to you, honey.”

She leaned down, hovering over you. “‘M gonna ruin you, baby.” She teases your slick folds with the tip, dragging it down from your clit to your sopping hole and back up again. She repeated this motion several times, watching as your resolve slowly broke until you were clinging to her and whining for her to just, “Put it in already!”

She answered your prayers soon enough, her thick cock splitting you open on her pretty strap. A moan is ripped from the deepest parts of you. “Fuck, so tight.” Her eyes stared down at your hole, watching how your walls held her. Rumi pulls out slowly, pushing back in just a little deeper. She keeps her thrusting at a steady slow pace, watching as you squirm beneath her.

You were growing slightly impatient, wrapping your legs around her waist, trying to push her deeper. She ignored your pleas and pinned your arms as you went to grab her. “Mph-please,” You beg, getting tired of the slowness. “F-Faster, Mommy.” Her ears perked up, her body going rigid for a moment. Her tail moved quickly, tickling your ankles and calves. She kicked into overdrive, pulling out quickly and pounding into you with a loud ‘squelch!’ You felt all of the air get punched out of you and you didn’t even get a moment to recover.

She fucked into you quickly, thick cock slamming into your cervix without care. You keened and cried, happy you got your wish. “Fuh-fuck yes, Mommy!” You cry, tears wetting your hazy eyes and flushed cheeks. “More-muh-more!” Her pretty hands wander down to your clit, rubbing tight circles on your soaked cunt.

Her other hand dragged over your figure, gently stimulating you but, making you beg for more. Your eyes roll to see Dabi mounted behind Keigo, the younger male's wings spread and twitching as his eyes roll. Finger digging into the fabric as he cried out your best friend’s name.

The ghost-like touch of her hands caressing your bosom and the heavy pressure of her strap, deep inside your gummy walls, made you squirm.

Some cry out when they cum. Backs arched and lips open in a shout. They’ll cry for their mothers, god, or anything their lust-hazed minds can possibly name in the heat of the moment.

You were definitely a part of that group.

Whenever your hands or your silicone toy has brought you to another orgasm, you’d cry out and arch your back in ecstasy before falling back into the comfort of warm sheets.

Now you cried out her name, back arched high off the bed as you cum just for her. She laps it all up, her non-stop thrusts dragging it on for what felt like ages. “Such a good baby,” She coos, bringing her lips down to nibble at your collarbone. “There you go, cum ‘round this strap, honey.” You cried out at each sharp thrust, feeling her so deep inside you, that it drove you crazy.

Your silky walls throbbed, slick continuing to leave rings of creamy white around her strap. Your hips jerked suddenly, trying to pull away from her. “Too much? Hmm?” You nod quickly, breathless and lightheaded. Your bleary vision focused on Keigo next to you, eyes crossed as Dabi fucked him into oblivion, drooling trailing from between his pretty swollen lips.

“Okay, okay.” Rumi’s thrusts come to a stop as she stays nestled inside you. Her lips wrap around your nipple, gently sucking at the hard bud. “So good, baby.” She hums, tongue curling around your bruised breasts.

“Gonna let Mommy cum, hmm? Mommy’s gonna cum for you, baby.” She kisses your chest, removing her hand to rub at her own clit. Her heavy strap rested against your cunt and stomach. Her mouth covers your own, allowing you to swallow each of her moans as she draws herself over the edge.

Soon, she came so prettily. Moans flowed freely as she tossed her head back before burying it into your neck. She shivered against you, kissing your neck and rubbing your hips.

You two lay in the aftermath, lulled into relaxation by the steady moans and thrusts of the couple next to you. A wing suddenly smacks you in the face, forcing your eyes open in frustration. Keigo’s back was arched so prettily. Wings fanned out, mouth hung open as rope after rope of cum splurt out from his throbbing cock. Dabi soon toppled over the edge after him. Filling him to the brim then, pulling out to watch it pour from his abused hole.

You all lay in the bed, catching your breath after all of the pent-up sexual tension came to fruition.

“Fuck,” Dabi was the first to speak. “Need ‘nother blunt.” Keigo laughed, rolling onto his back. Rumi nuzzled your neck, pressing more kisses. Dabi sat up, stretching himself out, getting up to grab his coat. Rumi sat up, removing her strap which left pretty indents on her dark skin. Dabi returned, holding a baggie and his packet of papers.

Dabi leaned to the side, using Rumi’s nightstand to roll a few blunts. Everyone took a moment to breathe, coming down from their long-awaited orgasm of the night. You knew it wasn’t over though. Golden eyes traced over your bare skin, flickering from your blissed-out face to your still-dripping cunny.

You could feel the throb from your cunt once you see his cock, slowly twitching back to life. You two kept your eyes on each other while Rumi and Dabi spoke. You both slide closer to each other, sitting with still a bit of room between you two.

Suddenly, you two surged towards each other, lips locking in a heated kiss. Hands roaming all over each other's figures. Pulling hair, grabbing feathers. You both pull away, panting and sloppy. “Wan’ you to suck my cock, baby.” He was slightly out of breath, puffs of air fanning your face. “Wan’ fuck ‘his pretty pussy.” He was still slightly delirious, both of your eyes practically mimicking hearts.

Your hands drift down to his already hard cock, gently stroking him as he cooes so prettily beside you.

“Such a pretty cock, Kei.”

He whines and keens, your thumb swirling around his cockhead, collecting any stray precum. You stared down at the blonde’s cock lovingly, enjoying his purrs and moans. Your cunt was throbbing, slick leaking down your thighs and onto the sheets. You need Keigo, desperately. You hardly wasted any time. Dropping down and wrapping your lips around his pretty cock.

His hips cant up into your mouth before you held him still, suckling his pretty head while he cried beneath you. “S-so good, ___! Feels so fuckin’-ah!” He was so sensitive from his previous fucking, twitching wildly in your mouth and already pumping drops of precum into your mouth. “S’fuh-hmm!” He tosses his head back, running his fingers through your hair before grabbing a decent handful. Dabi and Rumi sat on the sidelines.

Sharing a blunt between the two of them, watching you both indulge in each other. Keigo panted erratically. Already feeling the burn of overstimulation from his previous heavy orgasm. Your mouth was his vice, one he couldn't get rid of. A few feathers part from his vermillion wings, caressing over your body. Carefully winding around your breasts and legs, squeezing tightly onto your nipples.

“Fuck, fuck! Need ta’ ma-make you feel good ___!” Keigo gasps out, followed by the buzzing of a toy Rumi set on the bed early. He teases your hole, circling the cylinder around and coating it in your juices. You initially jumped once it made contact with your clit, taking the blonde’s cock further down your throat and moaning around him.

Pleased by your reaction, he continued to circle your clit and slap it against your sobbing cunt.

Finally, he plunges the vibrator deep inside of you, the thickness of it filling your walls and making you cry out. He kept his cock deep in your throat, fucking into your warmth while his feathers continued to please you. The two on your nipples curled and uncurled, effectively pinching you. The small one on your clit, buzzing quickly and making you gush. Several around your body, gently dragging up and down, keeping you on this edge.

His pretty hands brushed your hair out of your face, wanting to watch as you fell apart for him. “S’good, baby!” He tosses his head back with a loud moan. “Fuckin’ hell! This mouth so fuckin’ good, ‘m gonna cum down yer’ throat, dove!” He was losing his composure, wings unable to stay still as they fluttered and trembled. He was writhing beneath you, fully caught up in the pleasure of your mouth as you bobbed on his cock.

Your walls were tight, squeezing around the buzzing toy. The rope in your stomach was unraveling as you gagged and choked on Keigo’s cock. Each sound forces you closer and closer to your own orgasm. “Please, please!” He begged, seemingly to any higher power. Dabi leans over, stroking his hair and kissing his face. “Such a good boy, Kei.”

“C’mon, cum for her, Keigo.” Rumi joined in, rubbing his chest and hips.

“I’m—gah, ah—fuck!” His lips part in a silent cry, an angel’s plea. Tears were running down his face, matching your own. You two came together; Your walls squeezing around the silicone toy and his cock pumping into your throat. He emptied himself into your mouth. You came with him, gushing around the toy as you swallow his cum. As an attempt to slow your breathing, you drink aloof his arousal. Pulling off his now softening cock with a dopey grin only to fall onto him in exhaustion.

You laid nearly lifeless over top of Keigo. Rumi and Dabi quickly come to your aid. Pulling you off of each other. Rumi cradles the shaking blonde, stroking his hair as he cries. You curled in on yourself, quivering as tears rolled down your cheeks. “Oh no, it’s okay. You both did so good. So good.” Your mind couldn't process what was happening anymore. Brain so clouded, your eyes couldn't focus on your surroundings.

You lay there, shaking, and shut your eyes. Slipping into an uncomfortable unconsciousness.

You were so out of it. High on weed and your numerous orgasms of the night. Your body ached in overstimulation, shivers wracking through you periodically. Heated hands run up and down your quivering body.

“Shhh, relax, princess.” A voice rasps in your ear, kisses pressed down your spine. You lay on your stomach, trying to calm down and stop your hyperventilating. “I know, I know,” He cooes, continuing his motions. “You’re doin’ so well f’us. Doin’ so fuckin’ well.” You relaxed under his grip, eyes slowly fluttering open.

“Can you hear me, princess?” You nod, tapping on the bed a few times. “Good, good.” He moves to cuddle you more easily, one of his arms moving to support your head. “You wanna keep goin’? I’m not gonna force you to take more if ya’ can’t.” Your mouth was dry, probably a factor of cotton mouth but, you swallowed enough spit to coat your throat.

“Yes, please,” You take another large swallow. “Wan’ more.” Dabi chuckles, lightly smacking your inner thigh. “Dumb little slut wants more cock?” He purrs in your ear, moving to straddle you. “Yes, Dabi. Wan’ more.” He manhandles you, forcing you more onto your stomach then, pushing your knees in so you’d be presenting for him, ass in the air.

“Such a gorgeous ass,” He spreads your cheeks apart, watching as your cunt drools for him. “Sloppy girl.” He dives down, kissing your messy hole. Your jolt forwards, whining loudly into the pillows. “My pretty girl.” His scarred lips tainted your hole, smothering and lapping up any juices that spilled out of you.

His jeweled fingers soon join, slipping into your abused hole. “Da-Dabi!” You jolted forward, moving away from him. A sharp smack is landed right onto your left asscheek, followed by two extra.

“Who the fuck are you runnin’ from, huh?” His voice was deep as he growled the words at you. Sharp teeth soon dig into your ass. You cried out, once again moving from the blossoming pain. Dabi spanks your cunny, cackling at your cries. “Answer me you fuckin’ brat.” He tugs your hair, forcing you back to stare at him from upside down. Tears were in your eyes once again, threatening to pour out at any moment.

“‘M suh-sorry, Dabi.” You were begging for sympathy. “Nuh uh, apologize right.” Your brain was so hazed, you searched his eyes hoping for an answer.

“‘M sorry, Daddy.” He smirks widely, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Good fuckin’ girl.” He kisses your lips softly, letting go of his rough hold. “You wan’ my cock, hmm?” - “Yes, Daddy. Want your cock, daddy.” A pleased smile worked its way onto his face.

Dabi readjusts your position, pushing your head into the pillows. “Be good for me, princess.” His leaking cockhead drags through your folds, starting from your clit and dragging down. You whine and push back onto him, hoping for more. He stops, slapping his pierced shaft against your soaked cunny. “Bet this pretty pussy’s so tight,” He grabs your hips as he begins to push in. “So tight and fuckin’ wet.” Dabi growls.

Feeling each cold bulb of his pierced dick sliding into your tight heat made you keen into the sheets. Fisting them tightly between your fists and jaw falling open. “Ah—fuck me…” His voice was slow and drawn out as he pushed through your gummy walls. “Fuck yes, Daddy.” You pant, drooling onto the mussed sheets. Once he’s fully seated, he slowly pulls back out; Letting another beautiful moan flow from his tainted lips.

After a few agonizing thrusts, ripping whines, and whimpers from you, his thrusts pick up the pace. “Came four fuckin’ times an’ you’re still tight as a virgin?” The dark-haired man snarls, fucking into your tight cunt quickly.

His slow pace became fast and ruthless. “Oh shit, Daddy!” You shouted, picking your head up for a breath of fresh air. You moan shamelessly into the air, eyes hazed in pleasure.

“Please—shit—please, please! Sluh—slow down!” The air was being punched out of your lungs. You could feel his cock in your stomach, making a very obvious bulge protrude from your stomach. “Pluh—please! Stop, Daddy! ‘S too much!”

“Ugh—god! Daddy, please!” His cock rammed your cervix, uncaring that you begged him to stop. His fingers dug into your hips in a bruising grip, keeping you upright as he used your dripping cunt. “Creamin’ on daddy’s dick already, hmm?” He growled in your ear, biting at the lobe. “Just started and you're already fallin’ apart.” His hips roughly smacked into your ass, pleasingly reddening your skin.

Dabi’s thrusts were precise and sharp, nailing your sweet spot each, and every time. “Squeezin’ me so damn tight, baby,” His head falls between your shoulder blades. His forehead presses against your sticky skin. “Cum for me, doll. Cum all over Daddy’s dick.” Voice ragged from strain. His fingers trail down to your clit, weaving tight circles to bring you to the edge and you followed his order. Cumming loudly around his thick cock. Cunt pulsating and gushing around him as he moans in pleasure. Praising you for being so damn good for him.

“My good girl, my good fuckin’ girl!” His voice hitches as his hips stutter. “Fuck ‘m gonna cum, pretty.” He presses hot kisses to your back, lips dragging against your skin as he continues to fuck you roughly. You were breathless, barely hanging on to consciousness as he pistons in and out of your abused cunny. You wouldn't be walking for weeks.

“Gonna fill up this tight pussy, m’kay, baby?” You nodded slowly, caught in your post-orgasm haze. The world covered by a thick smoke screen. He grips your waist hard as he spills into your womb, hips continuing their movements as he fucks his cum deep inside of you. Finally, he collapsed onto you. Kisses and mumbled apologies pressed into your skin; Digging into your brain.

The room's air was thick with smoke and lust. Everyone panting and returning to their previous reality. You and Keigo were down for the count. Both lay flat on your faces, panting wildly and eyes shut.

“Y’done?” You lay on the bed in a daze. Mouth parted, drool spilling onto the cool silk sheets. Body shivering from overstimulation and the crisp air. Holes twitching, nearly violently as slick and cum pour out of you. Your eyes are unfocused, staring ahead of you. If it weren’t for the rise and fall of your body, they would’ve thought you were dead.

“Let’s clean ‘em up, get ‘em in bed.” Dabi is already scooping you in his comforting grip. She helps Keigo up, leading you all to the bathroom. A soft kiss is pressed to your hairline, making you hum in content.

“I gotcha, princess.”

[buckyalpine]

Imagine jealous!sharon want to get you out of the way so she can be with Bucky…

She hurts you (even it’s like a bruise) and Bucky begins to be so protective of you 🥺🥵

ABSOLUTELY.

I'm imaging this with a soft sweet reader and fuckboi Bucky. Hear me out, okay.

He's not looking for a relationship at all, finally feeling a sense of freedom after getting a bit of himself back. He's so flirty with everyone, so charming, he knows he can get whoever he wants.

He fucks.

A lot.

Sharon eats it up, loving the smirks he gives her, his playful baby blue eyes always sparkling. She loves the naughty way he bites his lip and don't even get her started on how gorgeous he is when he works out shirtless. His Brooklyn accent comes out when he calls her darlin' and it makes her weak in the knees.

There's just one issue.

The looks he gives Sharon aren't special. She's not the only one he calls darlin', even the old lady at the coffee shop shares the same pet name. Bucky can't help the little smirks he tosses around to others, flirty compliments naturally falling from his lips. He's a bit of a heart breaker but it's who he is.

That's just Bucky.

That's Bucky with everyone else.

Then there's Bucky with you.

The quite lab assistant who worked at the compound.

He didn't have it in him to playfully flirt with you when you asked about his day. He actually liked talking to you, finding any excuse under the sun to keep the conversation going, poking at the little nick knacks you have on your desk so he doesn't have to leave so quickly.

Sharon hates the way he looks at you. Whenever he's around you, he looks at you with puppy eyes as if he's wondering how someone so sweet could possibly exist. She catches onto the way he's not the same with you as he is with others. He's called everyone in passing darlin' with a drawl of his voice but you're his doll. He's never used that with anyone else. That's reserved just for you.

She can't stand it.

At first she tries to pick you apart in subtle ways' maybe you'd finally realize you had no business talking to someone like Bucky.

"You're so pretty even though you wear glasses"

"Don't worry, that dress would still look good on your body type, its meant to suit everyone"

"I wish I was as brave as you to wear that! I'd love to have that much confidence but I could never"

She smiled sweetly while you pulled your lab coat closer together, clutching it tightly in your hand. Your heart sank to your stomach. You'd worn one of your favorite dresses, one many others had always said you looked perfect in but some how Sharon made you doubt that, despite her sugary smile.

Then she took it a step further to make sure you were more isolated, insisting you'd be uninterested in plans when the team wanted to go out. Purposely giving you extra work when they had drinks together. Anything to keep you sad and holed away in your lab while she kept Bucky all to herself.

She'd do anything to get rid of you.

She was almost certain everything was going accordingly to plan, inching closer and closer to Bucky during a movie night until she was pressed against him, sharing his blanket. Not that Bucky noticed since he was more distracted over the fact that Sam was also squished against him on the other side of the small couch. Sam was also buried under the now too hot blanket, his deep snores irrupting the movie having fell asleep on Bucky's shoulder.

"Damn bird brain" Bucky huffed, ignoring the fact that he pushed Sharon off while reluctantly adjusting himself so Sam's head wouldn't slip, shaking his head when Sam grumbled, trying to snuggle into Bucky more.

"Bet you wish that was y/n, huh" Tony wiggled his eyebrows and much to Sharon's distain, Bucky blushed. Not did he deny it.

It didn't matter though. She'd find a way to get Bucky's attention, it wasn't like you were real competition anyways. She figured you'd have the sense to like someone better suited for you, someone in your league, definitely not the very handsome Sergeant.

That was until she found out you had a crush on the super soldier yourself. You'd let it slip out during a conversation with Nat, not realizing there was someone near the lab. Sharon didn't think you actually had a chance with Bucky but it didn't matter.

At this point she didn't care about what it took.

She was sick of the way Bucky was soft over you.

So she took a more direct approach.

"Y'know, I heard someone has a little crush on a certain super soldier" Sharon smirked, wandering to your table, tinkering with one of your tools while you looked at her like a deer caught in head lights.

How did she know?!"

"I-I don't-

"Oh please y/n, everyone knows" the blonde rolled her eyes at your gaping mouth before continuing, "I just thought I should let you know that he's not interested"

You felt like you had been punched in the stomach, the hurt expression on your face made her satisfied,.

"Oh" Was all you mustered out, embarrassed beyond belief while she shrugged. You blinked back tears while Sharon squeezed your shoulder out of faux concern, handing you a tissue.

"I'm so sorry, honestly I just thought you should know because he likes me. And I like him. So it would be best for you to move on, because were seeing each other" It didn't matter if it was a lie because she intended on making it real soon enough.

From that day, you avoided everyone in the compound like the plague, throwing yourself into work, feeling ridiculous for having even thought of Bucky that way. Of course he'd never go for someone like you, you should've known that from the start.

Sharon's plan was short lived after she overheard Bucky worriedly asking Tony about where you'd been all week since he hadn't seen you. After some endless teasing, Tony reassured him you were fine and just busy with lab work, not knowing the true reason as to why you'd overloaded yourself.

Sharon despised the pink that decorated Bucky's cheeks whenever someone said your name.

She hated that she'd seen him walking by the lab hallway in search of you.

She'd do anything to end all of this.

Including hurt you.

-

You made your way down to the gym hoping to sweat some of your unrequited feelings away, putting on your headphones before hopping on the treadmill. Sharon walked in moments later, blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, her toned body on full display in nothing but a sports bra and some tiny shorts.

You felt even worse.

You tried to stay hidden, deciding 15 minutes would be enough, though your escape was cut short with Sharon caught your arm just as you were about to leave.

"How about we spar for a bit" She smiled sweetly, giggling at your confused expression. You'd never sparred in your life, in fact this was probably the third time you'd even used the gym the entire time you'd lived at the compound.

"Sharon, I-I don't think that's a good idea, I've never-

She cut you off, dragging you to the mat, practically shoving you to the middle with more force than necessary.

"It's fine! I mean, it's good for you to learn since you work here n'all C'mon, I'll help you and show you what to do" Before you could say anything, Sharon had flipped you onto the mat, twisting your arm behind your back without warning. You gasped in pain as she gripped harder, pulling further up your back until she heard your joints crack.

"Let-let go" You winced out, confused over what part of sparring this was, your body hitting the floor when she released her grip.

"Ops" Sharon pouted with faux innocence, taking a long sip from her water while you hissed in pain, seeing the formation of a bruise already forming on your arm.

"SHARON"

Sharon squeaked in surprised at the loud voice that boomed through the gym, bouncing off the walls. Her eyes shot up to see a very angry super solder making his way over to the mat, eyes darkening as they landed to your injured form on the ground.

"What the fuck did you do?!"

"Bucky, we were just-

"Don't" Bucky growled through gritted teeth, rushing over to your side, and slipping his arm around your waist.

"Angel, are you okay?" He cupped your cheek, helping you to your feet and taking your hand in his, examining it with the utmost care. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"M'all right" You nodded, your face heating up under his gaze, still a little shaken, your body trembling.

"How the fuck could you hurt her" Bucky spat, his metal hand clenched to his side, itching to punch Sharon in the jaw, having seen what she had just done but he didn't want to deal with the mess that would come afterwards. "The hell did you do that for"

"Excuse me? I was just showing her how to-"

Bucky's jaw clenched, instantly shutting her up. He refused to let go of you, keeping you firmly tucked into his side, growing unbelievably protective over you.

"Fine, go ahead, I'm sure she's different from all your other little side pieces" Sharon scoffed, smirking at the way your face fell. Bucky felt like he'd been hit in the chest; you were far more than any of his hook ups and he'd never considered treating you that way.

"You. Don't. Touch. Her" He glared her at before walking off with you. After the incident, Bucky insisted you go to the doctors to get checked over, waiting outside of the room like a kicked puppy. He couldn't help but feel guilty that all this had happened because of him. He also wondered that you thought.

Did you think he'd just use you for one night?

He would never.

He knew he wasn't into dating. He gave up on the dream of getting married, having kids, all that years ago. But that was before he met you. Ever since you'd thrown him a shy smile along with the softest hello Sergeant Barnes, Bucky had been a goner.

If his feelings were was bad before, it was even worse now.

You were told to ice your arm for the pain and swelling. Bucky had swept you away right to the kitchen, despite you telling him you'd be fine, plopping you onto the kitchen island wrapping an ice pack in a towel. He held it to your arm, frowning at the way you refused to look at him, your face downcast to the floor.

"Doll?" Bucky wrapped his arms around you for a comforting hug, wondering if the altercating with Sharon was still upsetting you, "Are you okay sweets? I missed you, haven't seen you in ages"

"I-I'm fine, I'm sorry" You pulled away from his arms, remembering Sharon's words from earlier, instantly missing the warmth of his body. "I know you don't feel the same way Bucky" You bit your lip to keep it from trembling.

Bucky blinked in confusion, having no idea what you were talking about. What did he not feel the same way over.

"What do you mean y/n"

"I mean I like you-but I know you don't like me that way so I kept myself busy so I wouldn't bother you because Sharon said-

"Wait, slow down, what did Sharon say"

You sighed before recounting all the things that had lead to this moment, Sharon insulting you, then telling you to back off, to straight up fighting you.

"Oh doll" Bucky shook his head, feeling worse over what had happened but over the moon over your confessed feelings, "She's right you know," He teased at the pout that made it's way to your lips before playfully pecking them, catching you by surprise.

"I don't do relationships. Certainly never had before. That was before I met the sweetest thing in the world and she's had my heart since" Bucky whispered, his hands, one warm, one cool cupping your cheeks, "She has me dreamin' of sayin' I do and that white picket fence, a ring on her finger, a pretty little baby bump with flowers on the window sill. Maybe a baby boy n' a baby girl. Maybe even a cat. She's the cutest little lab assistance and I'd love for her to be my girl, sweets"

Bucky held your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing over your warm cheeks while you grew bashfully shy, burying your face into his chest instead, making him chuckle.

"I didn't think you were the relationship type" You shrugged, toying with his dog tags, "I'm not you're darlin' Bucky"

"That's cause you're my doll" Bucky tilted your face up making you look up at him, his lips pressing the softest kiss to your nose and then your lips. "My one and only doll"

[askinkiskarma]

➸ ʀɪᴅɪɴɢ ʟɪᴇᴜᴛᴇɴᴀɴᴛ!ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛᴀʀɢᴇᴛ ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴇ

pairings: simon "ghost" riley x female!reader

a/n: i wrote this for the "praise/degradation" kinktober prompt and it could fit both jake sully and ghost so i decided to publish it for ghost. is it self-plagiarism to just copy paste it and post it for dilf!jake, too? asking for a friend

warnings: pwp under the cut (18+ mdni), pet names (doll, love, princess, kid), implied age gap, slight degradation, some praise, semi-public i guess??

wc: >400 words

ghost masterlist (x)

“Feels… so… good… fuck!”

Bouncing on your lieutenant's cock in a hidden bush after excusing yourself from target practice was not on your list of things to do today, but then again… it never was. But you just couldn’t help it, not when there he was, so fucking hot, giving orders, showing trainees how to shoot all the different guns in the army's arsenal, not when your underwear was uncomfortably sliding against your swollen folds, dripping in slick. The people will be fine practising on their own for a while, right? After all, the target was right there, all they had to do is… aim at it… right? 

“Fucking hell, kid…” Ghost's voice was gravelly and low, the thick accent mixing beautifully with the gritty groans that escaped him as you twitched around his length with every thrust that threatened to bruise your already aching cervix. It was maddening, the pace he set, the way he couldn’t help but buck his hips upwards to be even deeper in your tight, soaked pussy, the need to be closer, to feel you, to fill you, ever present and ever growing.

“You look so good taking my cock. So good.” 

The best you can do in response is a faint moan, so focused on maintaining the pace he set, thoughts overflowing with how good he felt, how much it all was, how when he pulled the mask slightly upwards and captured your nipple in his mouth, sucking while circling your sensitive clit with his thumb, it all made tears prick at your eyes painfully and free flow down your face as the orgasm drew closer and closer with each passing moment. 

“Couldn’t even wait 'til the end of practice, could you? My desperate, needy slut. Always have to have all your little holes stuffed, eh?” 

HIs words always had such power to bring you to your knees, or to your orgasm, the feeling overtaking all of your senses, white noise all you were able to see and hear as he continued abusing your convulsing cunt. 

“Squeezing me so well, gonna make me cum all over this pretty pussy. But I’m not done yet, love.” 

It took no effort on his part to pull you off him and manhandle you in a new position, barely managing to hold your own weight on all fours, so spent and overwhelmed from the onslaught of sensations he was so good at eliciting in you and for you. 

“Come on, doll. Face down, ass up. Gotta make sure to fill you up until everyone on that field knows how much you like being fucked until you’re dripping from all sides.”

[alltheirdamn]

DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader

Summary: You're on a cross-country road trip when your tires blow, and you're forced to get them fixed at a small town mechanic shop. When your card declines, you only have one other option to get your car back. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 3k Warnings: Pre-outbreak AU, mechanic!joel, sex for favors, oral sex (f + m receiving), blowjob, deepthroating, cum eating, fingering, squirting, semi-public sex, unprotected piv sex, size kink, creampie, dirty talk, pet names, joel being a disgustingly nice gentleman, porn with absolutely no plot A/N: I saw this gif float across my pinterest and had a terribly fun idea... so here it is. Enjoy a lil fun ;)

PART 2 | Masterlist | Ko-fi

“S’all fixed up now,” Joel said, walking into the waiting room.

You had been waiting a few hours to have your alignment fixed and tires replaced, and now you could finally breathe a sigh of relief. You were on your way through the small town headed east towards Tallahassee when both of your back tires blew out on the highway. You were lucky not to cause a crash and thankfully found a local mechanic shop only half a mile off the road. 

“Thank you so much,” you exhaled as you stood up and stretched your legs.

Joel rounded the counter to the register, typing up the work order to charge you out. Wallet in hand, you waited for the cost, praying it wouldn’t make a dent in your bank account. You only budgeted so much for the road trip, and this definitely wasn’t in the budget.

“Alright, ma’am, lookin’ like it’s gonna be around $500 for everything. Shaved some off just for the hassle you been through,” Joel smiled.

Shit.

“Uh, okay. Great.”

You reluctantly handed over your card, praying it would be enough. Joel swiped it on his machine followed by a loud beep that clearly meant DECLINED. You let out a shaky breath, fishing through your wallet for another card.

“Shit, try this one,” you said.

Joel nodded, his brows furrowing a bit when it also beeped in the same tone. He slid your card across the table, cocking a brow as if to ask, ‘Got another one?’

“Fuck,” you laughed nervously. “Okay, how ‘bout this one?”

Another card. Another decline. How the fuck were you going to get out of town now?

“Sorry, ma’am,” Joel sighed. “No payment means no car ‘m afraid.”

You ran your hand through your hair in frustration, trying to come up with something. Glancing up at him, you took in his broad frame covered by a simple black t-shirt that seemed to hug the planes of his chest perfectly. You hadn’t even noticed the patchy beard or kind grin that he donned so well earlier. Maybe…

“Look, I gotta get out of here tonight,” you pleaded. “Is there anything I can do to just get my car?”

Joel crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps looking much bigger in that position. With a frown turning down his lips, he shook his head.

“Afraid not, ma’am.”

“Anything? Please, I'm begging you.”

He considered you a moment, his eyes raking over your figure. You felt your cheeks warm at that look, knowing what he might be insinuating. If that’s what it took to get your car and get the fuck out of this town, then why not?

“Anything?” He repeated.

“Yeah, I guess so. I’m pretty fucking desperate right now.”

Joel came around the corner of the counter, crowding you until your neck craned up to meet his eyes. Your heart thrummed in your ears, warmth blossoming in your stomach the longer he stared at you. 

“Desperate lil’ thing, huh?” He teased.

Backing away from you, Joel walked to the shop entrance and slowly turned the lock. He looked back at you as he flipped the sign to CLOSED as if testing your judgment. You gave him a meek nod, never letting your eyes off him as he stalked toward you again. His finger ran up your forearm, catching on the sleeve of your top and tugging it lightly.

“Follow me, darlin’.”

That sentiment, followed by the twang of his accent, was enough to make your knees buckle, and you followed him like a dog in heat. Joel led you back into the heart of the shop, scraps of tools and car parts littering the makeshift garage. And right in the center of it all was your car. Leaning against the hood, he patted the metal, beckoning you over. You dropped your purse on the workbench and walked toward him on shaky legs. Joel spread his legs a bit wider as you approached, his fingers wrapping around your belt loops to pull you in close.

You were a breath apart now, just the barrier of clothes separating you. Joel’s hands snaked around your waist and firmly palmed your ass through your jeans. You let out a small yelp as his fingers dug into the supple flesh, kneading and massaging until your eyes drifted shut at the feeling.

“You pay off all your debts this way?” His voice dropped an octave, and you felt the bulge in his jeans prodding against your stomach as you leaned closer.

“Fuck off,” you scoffed. “Wasn’t planning on my car taking a shit out here and definitely wasn’t budgeting for it either.”

“Hmm,” he mused. “Ain’t got a boyfriend to give you some cash to help?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be out here tryna fuck you for my car,” you quipped.

A grin split across his face at your defensiveness, as if he enjoyed you being a brat. You weren’t trying to be— honest to god—but you desperately needed to leave this town, preferably with your car. 

“Y’sure are a bratty little thing,” he said, tugging you closer.

“Why don’t you stop talking so much and fuck me so I can get the hell up out of this small fucking town?” You grumbled.

Joel raised one of his hands to grip your chin, steadying your gaze on his. Sliding his thumb over your lips, he coaxed your mouth open and urged you to suck on his finger. Without breaking eye contact, you swirled your tongue over the skin of his thumb before wrapping your lips around it.

“Christ, darlin’,” he exhaled. “Might just let you suck my cock and send you on your way.”

You released it with a pop, a trail of saliva dripping from your bottom lip. Reaching down, you massaged the bulge in his pants, letting out a soft gasp. He was massive—bigger than expected. He let out a small chuckle as if reading your mind, bucking his hips against your touch.

“You’d give me my car for a little blowjob?” You questioned, squeezing his cock tighter.

“S’nothing little about me, darlin’.”

“Aren’t you just full of yourself,” you rolled your eyes.

Your fingers danced over the zipper of his jeans, tugging it down as he helped pull his cock free. You peeked down to catch a glimpse of it, your eyes growing wide. His cock was girthy and thick and definitely had no shortage of length, either. Precum leaked from the tip, and you wet your lips at the idea of trying to fit it all in your mouth.

“Y’gonna suck it or what? Car ain’t gonna pay for itself.”

“You gonna give me my car after?” You tossed back.

“Maybe,” he grinned. “Those tires might cost you extra.”

“We’ll see about that,” you smirked.

Sinking to your knees, you pulled down his jeans and underwear until he adjusted himself at the tip of your lips. You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, squeezing softly as you guided it into your mouth. Stretching your lips wider, you swirled your tongue around the tip, basking in Joel's groan as you did so.

“S’fucking perfect, darlin’. That mouth feels fucking amazing.”

 You took him deeper, moving your mouth in a rhythmic motion until you felt his hand come down to grip your hair. He held you steady as he snapped his hips back and forth, pushing his cock further down your throat. Sputtering around him, you dug your nails into his thighs as leverage while he continued fucking your throat.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he rasped. “C’mon now, take this fuckin’ cock down your throat.”

Opening your throat wider, you swallowed every thrust as tears streamed down your cheeks. Joel was relentless with his thrusts, your nose brushing against the curls at the base every time you took him deeper. You could sense he was close to the edge, so you dragged your tongue against the base of his cock with each stroke, spurring him on further. It elicited a primal growl deep within his chest, and within seconds you could feel the warmth of his cum sliding down your throat. His cock twitched inside your mouth as he came down from his high, and you hummed as you swallowed every last drop.

Using the grip on your hair to pull you off, you sat back on your heels, coughing and heaving to try and catch your breath. Joel looked down on you with heavy lidded eyes and a smug grin as if to taunt you. Cupping your cheek, he slid his thumb against your skin and brushed away the rolling tears.

“Open,” he ordered. “Show me.”

You quirked a playful smile, leaning your head back as you stuck your tongue out to prove you swallowed it all. Slapping your face softly, Joel let out a soft chuckle.

“Atta girl.”

You brushed the remainder of your tears away, wiping the makeup from your eyes, and you stood on wobbly legs. Smoothing down your shirt and jeans, you crossed your arms over your chest and cocked a brow.

“I think I earned my car back,” you insisted, your voice hoarse from how hard he fucked you.

“Hmmm, y’think so?” Joel questioned. “I think I deserve a taste of that pussy.”

You shoved at him playfully, rolling your eyes. 

“In your dreams, cowboy,” you laughed. 

With his pants still hanging down, Joel spun you until your ass was pressed against the hood of your car. Working at the button and zipper of your jeans, he shoved them down and pulled your legs free until your bare ass was pinned to the cool metal. Joel gave you a lopsided grin and shoved you further onto the hood.

“I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t return the favor, darlin’.”

“You don’t need to do that,” you said, your voice shaky.

“Oh, but I want to,” he argued. “Gotta see how sweet you taste.”

Sliding down, Joel situated himself between your thighs, tugging your calves up to rest on his broad shoulders. He gave you a teasing kiss on your inner thighs before delving in, his tongue flicking at your sensitive bud. You careened back against the hood, your back arching as his mouth suctioned around your clit. Crying out, you carded your hand through the brown curls of his hair, anchoring his face against your wet cunt as it pulsed against his mouth. Joel plunged his tongue inside you, forcing another whine from your lips.

“Fuck!” You cried. “Right there! Oh my god, yes!”

He hummed in satisfaction, bringing his fingers into the mix as he opened you up, curling them against that sweet spot inside you. Keeping his mouth on your clit he worked in tandem with his fingers until that coil inside you wound tighter and tighter. With one more curl of his fingers, your orgasm surged through your body, forcing a gush of liquid to stream out of your wet cunt. Joel sat back in awe, staring at your glistening folds as your body trembled from the release, your juices covering his beard and mustache. 

“Fuck babydoll,” he grinned. “You a squirter, too?”

You laughed awkwardly and watched as he removed his two fingers and brought them to his lips. Sucking them into his mouth, Joel groaned as he tasted the remnants of your orgasm. You knew you could squirt—it was your own dirty little secret—but something about seeing him covered in your juices made you want more. Tugging him softly with your calves on his shoulders, you urged him back to your soaked entrance, silently begging for another round. 

“Gonna cover me in your juices again, darlin’?” Joel smirked. 

“Mhmm,” you whined. 

“Drench me babydoll, let’s see it.”

Joel’s mouth was on you again, lapping up the juices leaking out of you until you were crying out for him. He didn’t let up as he sucked your aching clit between his teeth, his tongue working at the bud in earnest. He pushed his fingers back into you, your cunt pulsing violently each time he curled them. Slipping a third finger in, he stretched you wider and moaned against your clit as your body tensed with another orgasm. Another rush of liquid made it past his fingers, soaking his mouth and chin. You could feel it trickle down the seam of your cunt, drenching the hood of your car as you thrashed against it.

“Christ, Joel,” you mumbled, your head lolling to the side. 

He rose to his feet, wiping a hand over the hair covering his chin as he smiled at you. You sat up slightly, positioning yourself on your forearms as you watched him slide his jeans further down his legs. You were already in this deep; you might as well keep going. Spreading your legs a bit wider, you raised a finger to beckon him closer. 

“C’mon cowboy,” you teased. 

“Y’really need that car, huh?” He smiled, lining his cock up to your entrance. 

“I really do,” you whimpered, nodding your head vigorously. 

Joel eased himself inside you, inch by fucking inch, until he was fully seated at the base of his cock. You both groaned in unison, his cock sliding in and out of you easily from all the juice leaking from you. Crossing your ankles behind his back, you pushed him deeper, mewling at the sensation of the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix. You could feel that stinging stretch of your cunt as he picked up his thrusts, your ass sliding up the car each time. 

“Shit, babydoll,” he growled. “S’fucking tight around my cock.”

“You feel so good, Joel,” you hummed. “Please, I need it harder.”

Listening to your pleas, Joel planted his hands on either side of your face, pistoning into you with brute force. He bent down, sucking and biting the skin of your neck until you were crying out from the pain mixing with the pleasure. You rolled your hips to meet him thrust for thrust, your cunt fluttering against his cock each time. That blinding orgasm was on the horizon as your muscles tensed up for its release. Running your hands up under his shirt, you dug your nails into his back muscles, dragging them down his tanned skin. Joel groaned into your ear, his hips snapping against yours harder and faster.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” You sobbed. “I–I’m gonna fucking cum, Joel!”

“Yeah, babydoll? Fuckin’ soak me with it.”

He pulled out at the last moment, a heavy stream of liquid pouring from your cunt and coating your inner thighs and Joel’s cock. Without wasting a second, he drove back into you, picking up the pace despite your body still shaking and dripping from your orgasm. You could feel your tears rolling down the sides of your face, that warmth still coursing inside you. Joel’s thrusts grew erratic and off-rhythm, and you sensed his orgasm was pushing him to the edge. 

“Y’gonna let me fill that pussy, darlin’?” His lips grazed the shell of your ear as his voice sent shivers up your spine.

“God, please,” you cried.

With one…two…three final strokes, Joel was grunting and painting your insides with thick bursts of his cum. You both lay there limp and fucked out for several moments, catching your breath and chuckling as reality settled back in. He slipped out of you and drew his pants back up his legs, his eyes roaming over your sweaty body. With one hand, he tugged up the zipper of his jeans, using the other to push the cum leaking out of you back into your wet cunt. 

“Gotta send you off with some sort of parting gift,” he laughed.

You couldn’t help but laugh, too, adjusting yourself and sliding off the hood. Joel bent down to ease your pants back over your thighs and hips, helping with your own zipper as you stood awkwardly in front of him. Joel leaned in to kiss your cheek before walking to the corkboard hanging from the wall. Retrieving your keys from one of the hooks, he offered them to you with a kind smile.

“I’m free to go?” You asked, reaching for them. 

He pulled them away, shaking his head with a teasing grin. You pouted sarcastically, opening your hand and waiting.

“One kiss, and we call it even, babydoll.”

You grabbed either side of his face, pulling him in for a hungry kiss. You coaxed his mouth open, teasing your tongue over his, tasting your arousal still lingering on his tongue. Joel deepened the kiss, tangling his free hand in your hair to anchor you closer. Pressed up against him, you found yourself thirsting for more but knew you had no obligation to stay. Sucking his bottom lip between your teeth, you pulled away reluctantly and snatched the keys from his hand. 

“Thanks for the new tires, cowboy,” you grinned. 

Joel dazzled you with another gorgeous smile, the lines around his eyes creasing as he gave you one final nod. You squeezed your way out of his embrace, making your way to the driver's side door. He followed you over, opening it like the gentleman he was, waiting till you were situated inside. Leaning in for one more kiss, he lingered a moment too long before breaking away.

“Safe travels, darlin’. If you ever need some work done, y’know where to find me.”

You dug your keys into the ignition, letting the car rumble awake. Joel shut the car door with one final smile and watched you reverse out of the mechanic shop. Giving him a small wave, you turned onto the street and back toward the highway with a soreness creeping up your thighs.

[maybanksprincess]

thank me later - J.M

pairings: pervy bsf! jj x innocent reader

warnings: mdni, oral sex (fem recieving), pet names, soft dom! jj, sub! reader, orgasm denial.

JJ was sitting laying in your bed, while you sit at your vanity adjusting your pretty pink bows in your hair, as your face scrunches up in a focused expression.

as you get your bows to the way you like, you grab your strawberry scented lip gloss, applying a layer to your lips and rubbing them together.

you turn you head to jj, speaking softly "jayjay, does my hair look good?" you ask innocently, not having a clue about the thoughts hes having right now. about how he wanted to throw u on the bed and give u orgasm after orgasm "yeah baby, looks real good." he mutters out.

you giggle and stand up, walking over and cuddling real close to his chest. he immediately wraps his arms around you, adjusting his cargo shorts a little

this doesn't go unnoticed by you, and you speak softly "jayy..what are u doing with ur shorts?" you look up at him with innocent eyes

"nuthin' sweetcheeks, dont worry your pretty little head about it." he presses a kiss to your forehead, looking at the way ur top showed ur cleavage, biting back a groan, he shifts the way he's laying slightly.

you decide to let it go, and not say anything. you continue to cuddle up to him while he traces little patterns on your back.

jj had stolen your panties and bras multiple times while he was over, the following night he would jerk off countless times into them, getting them all sticky and creamy with his seed.

he would never wash them, or return them. they were his

eventually, you start to feel a pooling between your legs. you dont know what it is, you've never had sex or masturbated.

you didnt know what caused it. maybe it was the way jj manspreaded, or the way hes so effortlessly attractive. but you couldnt help but think what it would be like for jj to help the pooling between your legs.

your lost in your thoughts, and your thighs involuntarily clench together, making jjs gaze fall to your thighs. his lips slowly curved into a smirk, knowing what his innocent girl was thinking about.

"whatcha thinkin' about sweetheart?" his country accent lingering in his words

his voice drawls you out of your thoughts. you noticed the way your thighs were clenched, and you unclench them, letting out a nervous laugh. "sorry, was just thinking" you say softly

"yeah? about what sweetie?" his smirk deepens

you pause for a moment, and look at him with those innocent eyes. "what does it mean if u feel wet stuff between ur legs jayjay?"

he knew he had you right where he wanted you. "means you need someone to take care of you sweetheart, you want me to take care of you?"

you bite your bottom lip slightly, "yes.."

he sits up, and gently pushes you onto your back on the bed. he hooks his finger into the waistband of your cute little skirt.

"can i take this off baby?" he asks gently

you wanted him just as much as he wanted you, and he knew that. you mumble out a quick "mhm." and watch him start to remove your skirt and panties

he groans at the sight of your bare pussy in front of him "let me know if this feels good baby, aight?"

you nod, taking your bottom lip between your teeth slowly in anticipation.

he dips his head down, and licks a stripe up your folds, you let out a soft moan, and your hands instinctively fall to his hair to grip it

he takes your moan as encouragement to keep going, and he starts swirling his tongue in figure 8's on your clit, pushing a finger in to test the waters.

when you let out another moan and buck your hips up, he pushes another finger in, and begins fingering you while sucking your clit.

you feel your orgasm approaching as the pretty blonde below you keeps sucking ur clit, pushing his perfect fingers in and out of your dripping hole.

he feels your pussy clench around his fingers, and he pulls his head away from ur pussy, chin and stubble drenched in your arousal.

"nuh uh sweet girl, dont cum yet, imma make this pretty pussy squirt" following his words, he sucks your clit harder, adding yet another finger inside your hole.

after holding off your orgasm for so long, you whimper, feeling yourself have to pee. you try and push jjs head away, but he doesnt budge.

"nuh uh, give it t'me pretty girl." he doubles his efforts, his tongue moving at a relentless speed.

the band in your stomach snaps, and you feel a warm liquid shoot out of your hole, leaving his face soaked in ur liquids.

for a moment, you feel like ur seeing stars. your head is thrown back, your hands gripping his hair tighter than ever.

you catch your breath and then you look down at him.

"t-thank you jayjay.."

"thank me later, cupcake."