#got lazy with jean sorry girl

[notquitehuman-creations]

minecraft bosses

[rafescvntyclubgf]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕨𝕖𝕝𝕧𝕖: ℍ𝕠𝕝𝕚𝔻𝕒𝕥𝕖

���𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: dom!rafe, switch!reader, pet names, swearing, dirty talk, age gap (college senior rafe x young professor), icky rafe at the beginning, kissing, unprotected p in v, praise, rough sex, teasing, oral male receiving, orgasm denial, light bdsm

All of my asks got deleted 💕😭 so I'm not sure who requested this, but thank you! This is a combination of a few similar asks. The premise is that Rafe Cameron is nothing but trouble in class, and when his professor sees that the frat house is auctioning date nights for charity, she can’t help but place her bid.

Masterlist

Reader’s POV:

Your heels click down the aisle of the large lecture hall, surveying the crowd of students; a packed house, row upon row of upperclassman seated about. Turning on your heels, you look toward the back row, empty per usual, soon to be filled at 5 minutes past the hour was a horde of rowdy frat boys.

The door swings open right on cue, a line of them falling in, their president holding up the back. He smiles at you, giving you a lazy grin as he skims his fingers through his hair.

Rafe didn't just come into class late; he barely paid attention, wrote nothing in his notebook, cracked jokes with his brothers, and took a little naps when the night before had gotten too out of hand.

Then there was the way he looked at you on those specific days—the days when he was feeling rather bold and unashamed. He’d shoot his shot, talking to you like some girl he was hitting on at the bar.

“Can’t focus on shit when you look so pretty, professor y/n.”

“I’m tryin’ to raise my grade, professor y/n. Is participation based on how much I pay attention to you?”

“I get nervous when you say my name, professor y/n. The answer just slipped my mind. I'm sorry. M’paying attention… I swear.”

The smug smile never leaves his face as he speaks. And you’d be a liar if you said his little passes didn't make your heart flutter, but each advance was brushed aside or met with a cold, professional response that only made him more determined.

Students started to filter out, but he stayed back, wanting to “challenge a recent grade.” No one believed him, including his brothers. He pushed them toward the door as they snickered and gossiped about Rafe getting you alone.

Rafe walks toward the front, hands stuffed in his jeans, his t-shirt stretched across his chest and arms, his muscular body straining the fabric. He wipes his hand across his smirk when you look up at him, giving him the attention he was craving you would.

"Great lecture, Professor y/n," he smiles as he shuffles closer.

"Thanks, Mr. Cameron. If only you’d listened,” you quip, your eyes scanning over your attendance sheet, making notes for daily participation.

Rafe chuckles at the joke, moving within arm's reach. You look up toward the door, checking to see if you are alone, butterflies filling your stomach when you notice you are.

“Hey, I listen,” he scoffs, playing along with the game you shouldn't have played in the first place. “Sometimes I just get distracted,” Rafe smiles as his eyes fall to the hem of your pencil skirt, working their way back to your eyes far too slowly.

Your heart starts to race under the weight of his gaze. “Getting too distracted is gonna get you in trouble-”

“I hope so,” he smiles, cutting you off, twisting your words in the process.

You roll your eyes as you reach for your coat and book bag. “Mr. Cameron, I’m not just some girl, and I'm your professor-”

“Oh, I know,” he smiles, butting in again as he steps closer. His eyes fall to your tits as your back arches unintentionally while you slip your arm into your jacket.

“I don't know what game you're playing, but I need to get to my next class if you have nothing to ask me.”

"No games, sweetheart.” Your eyes shoot to him. “Sorry. Damn, m’sorry… Professor y/n,” he corrects himself, dragging out your title for emphasis. “No games,” he assures you as you step past him, walking toward the exit. You turn over your shoulder, Rafe’s blue eyes lifting from your ass to your sharpened gaze. “I am good at games, Professor y/n. If you wanna play sometime-”

“Goodbye, Rafe,” you dismiss him with a cold bite. You hear a few laughs from behind the door you're walking toward, making the heat of embarrassment pool in your cheeks.

You push into the hallway, moving quickly to your next class. The university’s bustling with students, the noise occupying what little space you have left, your mind consumed with thoughts of Rafe and what happened.

You turn the corner, weaving past the line in front of the coffee shop, slowing when you see the neon sign tapped against the wall.

HoliDate - Omega Beta Chi Fraternity Charity Auction

Win a Date with the men of ΩBX to support Charleston Children’s Hospital this Holiday Season

You sit in the back row of the theater, watching each of the frat boys strut out onto the stage one by one.

Rafe Cameron. He steps out onto the stage, dressed in a fitted black suit, making you swoon. He runs his fingers through his hair, his classic backward hat gone. He looks devilishly handsome—quickly flashing a cocky smile at the audience, making the catcalling and applause crescendo. You look around, watching phones glow as people rapidly scan their QR codes, prepping to place bids.

“And next, Senior and Omega Beta Chi President Rafe Cameron, everyone. HoliDate bidding starts at $100…”

The crowd blows past the opening bid in seconds. Your heart pounds as the offers climb: $200, $300, $400. You look down at your phone and type your own: $500.

"$600," the auctioneer calls, someone outbidding before you can even react.

$700. You punch in the number and hold your breath, waiting for someone to counter it again. The auctioneer looks down at his iPad, then to the crowd, counting down. "Sold! To our anonymous bidder!”

You stare at your phone, fingers hovering over the keys as you think of what to do next. You leave your name anonymous, providing your cell phone number instead.

Your phone buzzes in your purse as you walk out to your car. You rummage for it quickly, pulling it out of your bag; looking down at the message from Rafe.

Rafe: Hi, sweetheart

You: Hi!

Rafe: So, what do you want to do tonight? I'm all yours.

Rafe: I’m up for anything.

You: Meet me at eight at 5th and Main. Don't be late ♥️

"Professor y/n?" Rafe calls, a hint of disbelief in his voice as his head turns from left to right, scanning the street as he steps closer.

“Mr. Cameron,” you smile up at him.

“Umm… Are you, uh-”

“Waiting for a cab,” you cut him off. The excitement in his face falls fast. “And you.”

“And me?” Rafe asks. His blue eyes widen on yours as he fights back a sweeping smile. “Well, shit…”

“Is that okay?” You ask.

“You kiddin’ me?” He answers fast as his eyes fall lower, catching a hint of red satin peeking out of your peacoat. “This is perfect,” Rafe softens his tone as he steps closer. “So, where are we goin’?”

“Well, we can take the cab to The Rex,” you offer, mentioning the new restaurant downtown, “or you can come over for dinner and drinks at my house if you’d like.”

He smiles—a blush creeping across his cheek, enough so that he has to look away for a moment to collect himself. “We can go to your place, Miss…” He draws out the word, waiting for you to give him your name. You smile sweetly, stepping a little closer, and you swear you can hear his heartbeat in his chest.

“Y/n.” He echoes your name gently like it's the prettiest thing he’s heard. You look to your left, watching the cab slow-roll to a stop. Rafe rests his hand on your lower back, ushering you to the car before helping you inside.

The ride is short—only a few blocks. You make light conversation with him, surprised with how well it's going considering how he is in class—a very different man than when he’s in front of his brothers, charming even. You rest your hand on his thigh as he tells a joke, making his eyes flicker down. He smiles at the contact before looking back up at you.

“You look different,” he whispers.

“Different good or different bad?” You ask with a slight tip of the head and a breathy laugh that has him resting his hand on top of yours.

“Good," he smiles. “So fuckin’ good.”

“Different, though. How so?” You ask curiously, and he wets his lip, looking down at yours.

“You’re smilin’ at me. You don't usually do that…”

The cab rolls to a stop, and Rafe opens the door, helping you out before walking with you to your downtown apartment.

Rafe’s eyes float around the space as you guide him inside. The house’s decorated for the holidays; just a few things here and there. The table is set for two, with a bottle of champagne on ice.

“Holy shit,” he smiles as he rocks back on his heels slightly, coming to the conclusion that you wanted this more, your house set just in case he’d say ‘yes’. Rafe unbuttons his jacket, tugging it off his shoulders, leaving him in a fitted white button-down. He watches you closely, desperate to see what’s under your peacoat after getting a taste before. You untie the belt, taking your jacket off as well.

Rafe stands across from you—air filling his lungs as he tries to hold tight his usual confidence, failing miserably.

His blue eyes fix on you, wide and unblinking, tracing every line of your red dress, studying you, taking it all into memory. Rafe swallows hard, stumbling slightly as he kicks off one dress shoe, then the other.

You turn around, strolling toward the dining room, grabbing the champagne.

You over your shoulder just like you did this afternoon after class; Rafe’s eyes shift higher—the hunger in his eyes unmistakable.

“Champagne?” You ask, your voice smooth and teasing as you catch him in the act.

He opens his mouth to respond, but the words get caught on his tongue. Rafe laughs nervously, raking his hand through his hair, trying to recall your simple question.

“Champagne,” you smile, repeating the word.

“Yeah… Yes. Uhh—please,” he stammers, his voice wavering in a way it hasn’t before. You pour yourself a glass, then Rafe, the two of you, watching as the bubbles sparkle, tumbling over the side. “You look…” Rafe clears his voice, fluttering his lashes as he tries to compose himself.

“Yes?” You ask as you step a little closer, passing him the glass.

“You look stunning, y/n… I mean, you’re always beautiful-” He cut himself off, shaking his head, letting out a breathless laugh. “You’re makin’ me nervous.”

“You have a way of doing that to me, too,” you answer sweetly.

The doorbell rings; the food you ordered arrives just in time. The two of you sit together, discussing life and plans. Liquor flows, loosening the both of you up; Rafe pops a second bottle of bubbly for the two of you.

“Cheers,” he lifts his glass, making you do the same.

“Cheers,” you smile as you click your glass against his, taking a small sip as he moves closer.

“So…”

”So,” you breathe as you look up at him.

“Why me?” He asks as he leans in a little more. Rafe’s warm cologne fills your nose— the heat of his body so close makes your pulse spike.

“Why do you think?” You question, throwing the query back to him. He hesitates and smirks, cheeks flushing again, wanting to say the right thing.

"’Cause you wanted to see me outside of class?" He asks, his voice cracking slightly under the pressure.

“Mhmm… I wanted to see if you were the Rafe Cameron everyone sees in class or if that was just some act you were putting on for everyone.”

His brows pinch together, confusion painted over his pretty face. “M’not that bad,” he mumbles against the rim of his glass as the corners of his lips curl into a slight smile.

“I beg to differ, Mr. Cameron.”

He cocks his eyebrow as you get back to the basics, using his last name instead of his first. “Why else am I here, Professor y/n?” He asks, his voice hoarse and hungry as he moves even closer.

“Well, I think you need to learn a lesson…”

Rafe swallows hard, his face mere inches from you as his rough hand trails up your bare thigh, disappearing slightly under the satin. "What kind of lesson?" He whispers needily as his eyes fall slightly, locking on your lips again.

You take your finger, hook it under his chin, guiding his gaze to yours. “The kind of lesson where you learn respect,” you smile as your hand rests on his upper thigh, moving higher and higher. He takes a little breath, letting out a soft groan. “Boundaries,” you whisper as your fingers trace around his rock-hard cock, strained against the zipper. “And discipline,” you pull your hand away with a smile. Rafe expels the breath he was holding, his eyes softening in desperation.

”Please,” he mumbles as you lean in, kissing the corner of his mouth and cheek, leaning into his ear as he wraps his arms around you, needing you closer.

Your teeth scratch against the shell of his ear as your hands roam his broad chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat and quick breathing under your palm. “What do you want, Mr. Cameron-”

“You,” he answers hastily. “I want you, Professor y/n.”

“Good boy.”

You step off the couch and walk toward your bedroom, smiling as he follows you close. Rafe steps toward you, chest pressed against your back, tucking himself into your neck as his hands grab your hips. You tilt your head to the side, giving him better access to your skin. He releases a shaky breath, not wanting to kiss you without permission, hoping to get what he needs and fast.

You can tell by his hold and how he carries himself that he isn’t used to giving over control. But, Rafe Cameron wants nothing but to get back in your good graces…

You wrap your fingers around the red satin bow around your waist, tugging it loose. Letting it slip through your fingers, as you turn around, looking up at him.

His gaze falls to your hands, seeing the ribbon. “You look nervous, Rafe,” you whisper, your voice a soft purr, pulling his focus back to your eyes as you toss it to the bed.

"No, Professor. I—” his words trail away as he hears the pull of your zipper, the satin material falling to a puddle at your feet, leaving you in nothing but red lace.

“You just what?” You ask as you step closer, fingering the buttons of his shirt, popping them open one by one.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen,” he mumbles.

You smile as you pull his shirt off his broad shoulders, working on his pants next. “Flattery won't get you out of trouble, Mr. Cameron."

He shakes his head, eyes rolling back in his head as he watches you lower yourself to your knees, grabbing his dress slack and pulling them off. “I’m not tryin’ to get out of trouble. I swear—I,” he groans as you wrap your fingers around his hard cock through his boxers, making his abs flex. “I just can’t stop looking at you,” he breathes, lips parting as your mouth wraps around his thick tip, wetting the fabric. He cups the back of your head, his eyes shutting heavily. “I'll be good. I'll be whatever you want,” he pleads, his voice raw and hoarse.

You wrap your fingers around the band of his boxers, looking up at him with a smile. “You’ll be good for me, won’t you?”

“Yes. Shit—Yes, I’ll be so fuckin’ good. Alright? I promise. Just keep going.”

His breath hitches as you pull down his boxers. You let out a breathy sigh as you see his cock; long and thick, curved slightly, tip pulsing and wet with precum.

You wrap your fingers around the base of his length, making him bite his bottom lip. He watches your every movement, mesmerized as you lean in, tongue swirling and flicking across his tip, making goosebumps spread across his tanned, toned skin.

“Bed,” you smile. Rafe moves quickly, his breathing heavy as he shifts onto your bed. “Grab the rails.” Rafe lifts his arms above his head, gripping the metal tightly, giving you complete control. He continues to study you, the deliberate sway of your hips driving him mad. Grabbing the ribbon, you crawl on top of him, resting your warm, wet pussy on top of his dick, grinding nice and slow. You lean forward, wrapping the soft satin around his wrists, tying it into a pretty little bow.

"You're enjoying this a little too much, Professor," he huffs through a wide smile.

“I could say the same about you.” You lean down for a kiss, hovering just above his lips. Rafe chases your mouth as you pull away, denying him that.

"Look, I get it. You're trying to teach me somethin’, and I deserve it-”

”But what?" You ask in a taunting tone.

"But you're killin’ me," he blurts, tugging against the ribbon, making his big biceps flex. “I’m not used to this? I'm used to bein’ in control.”

Your lips quirk into a smirk. “Oh, I noticed,” you smile as you trace your finger down his chest, through his abs, cutting along his v-lines before teasing his cock, watching him twitch.

"You think you've got me all figured out. Don’t you?”

“I do…” You smile as your nails scratch down his muscular thighs.

"I've been good...”

“We just started,” you whisper against his tip before wrapping your lips around him. Rafe throws his head back into the pillow, pulling against the restraints as you let him slide into your mouth, taking him to the back of your throat.

“Yes, fuckkk…” He groans. “That’s it, baby.”

Rafe looks down at you with half-lidded eyes, watching his thick dick slide between your slick, swollen lips. You moan around his girth, watching the way his eyes roll back at the feeling of the vibrations.

You wrap your hand around the base of his cock again, licking a few fat stripes up the bottom of his shaft.

“So fuckin’ good,” he groans, fighting to keep his eyes open as you throat his cock again.

His big hands ball into fists as you start jerking his dick as well, sucking on his tip, making him gasp, his muscles coiling tight.

“Shit. Shit. Shittt,” he grumbles. “I’m gonna cum. Fuck. I’m gonna cum in that pretty mouth. Hey—” He huffs as you pull off his cock with a wet pop, looking down at him with a wicked smile. “What the fuck?” He pants, his face twisted in frustration.

“What?” You ask dumbly.

His cock pulses—incredibly hard, red and swollen; Rafe, just seconds away from cumming down your throat. "You want to teach me a lesson? Fuckin’ fine. But let's stop pretendin’ this is just about that. Aight? You need me,” he grunts. “$700 for a lesson, bullshit. You want me to take care of you. Let me fuckin’ go.”

“Or what?”

"What are you teachin’ me a lesson for anyways? It’s not my fuckin’ fault. Alright? It’s yours… It’s the only way I can get your attention. You’ve been drivin’ me crazy all fuckin’ semester," he huffs, his voice low and rough. "Every time I piss you off, I get your attention; every time I come in late, your eyes are on me. And when I don’t pay attention, you call me out by name—I can't stop thinkin’ about you. Ain’t that what you want, Professor y/n. Fuckin’ sue me for wanting your attention.”

“There are other ways to get my attention, Rafe,” you whisper through a soft smile.

“Well, it got me here, didn’t it,” he counters. “I think it's my time to take charge." Rafe looks up, seeing the end of the red bow, quickly catching it between his teeth, tugging at it fast, making your heart race as he yanks himself the rest of the way out. He rolls you to your back, lips crashing against yours for the first time in a deep, passionate kiss.

Rafe crushes you under his big body, taking complete control. Your hands reach around him, gripping his big shoulders. He deepens the kiss, fingers digging into your skin.

He pulls back slightly, licking his lips in anticipation, rubbing his cockfat head around your aching hole before pushing inside. You moan in pleasure— the both of you watching as your wet pussy pulls him in.

You throw your head back on the pillow, body reeling, pleasure coursing through your veins at how deliciously he fills you up. You grab his big biceps as he picks up the pace, nails driving into his skin.

“So fuckin’ tight…” He groans. “God, you’re wet.”

Rafe cups the back of your head, steering you to look at the space between the two of you, watching his thick cock pound into you fast—your arousal slicked and glistened between rough thrusts.

Your lips brush against his as you claw at his back, pulling him closer, making him fuck you even deeper than before as your body tightens around him.

“You gonna cum, baby?” He asks, raspy and thick.

“Yes. Fuck,” you whimper.

“You’re lucky I don’t fuckin stop, Professor y/n. Good news for you, I wanna fill up this pretty pussy.”

“Don’t stop. Please,” you cry.

He picks up the rhythm, thrusting into you faster and harder.

"Then you better come for me. Yeah? Show me what a good girl you can be,” he growls in your ear, taking back the power he lost. “Think we both know who’s really in charge here.”

His name leaves your lips in a broken sob as you cum around his cock; toes curling, back arching, tits pressing into his muscular chest. Rafe’s hips stutter, filling you to the brim as he continues to pound into your warm, wet cunt.

He nuzzles into you, kissing along your neck as you come down from your high together.

Rafe draws a deep breath as he pulls back, claiming your lips in a tender kiss. "Did you learn anything?" You giggle between breathless kisses, making him smile against your lip.

"No… Didn’t learn shit," he mutters. “Good thing we’re just gettin’ started.

[daryltwdixon]

Daryl x Reader

season 1 Daryl

MDNI: smut

inspo: @heathermason6060's inexperienced Daryl & this ao3 story

notes: I barely proofread this after my first reread sorry

Ever since you’d joined the group—a girl they found out in Atlanta around the same time they brought Rick back—you didn’t fully fit in with anyone. People never really knew how to talk to you, and every conversation anyone overheard was always short and clipped. Maybe you were shy, or maybe still getting over something lost when the world turned upside down. But Daryl watched you—always watching, weirdly drawn to you in a way that he couldn’t figure out.

That feeling, whatever it was, twisted his stomach every time he got close. He didn’t know what it was, only that he wanted to be near you, wanted to catch even the smallest glance or word. Hell, he didn’t even need to be close; the thought of you was enough to send his stomach into knots.

After a while, he even started to wonder what it’d be like to talk to you beyond the short words you’d exchanged about ammo or food or anything survival-related. He thought about what the hell he’d even say, what you might like to talk about, but every time he tried to picture it, he went blank. His older brother wasn’t exactly the type to teach him how to talk to women; Merle had his own ways that usually ended up with people pissed off or storming off, and Daryl wasn’t about to mess this up by being like that. He’d be careful. Real careful.

One night, the fire is burning low, and everyone else has already drifted to their tents. Daryl sits by the embers, debating whether he should finally head back to his tent now that he’s alone—just him and the dying fire. It feels odd not having Merle around to tell him where to be and when. He has to figure out what he actually wants to do instead of just being in the man’s shadow. Just as he’s about to call it a night, you appear from your tent, looking restless and rubbing at your eyes. When you notice him sitting alone, you pause, then make your way over to him and sit down—not across from him but, to his horror and excitement, right beside him on the log. His stomach lurches, something strange twisting as he glances at the way the moonlight catches the curve of your thigh, making him wonder—just for a second—what your skin might feel like beneath his fingers.

You sigh beside him. “Can’t sleep,” you mutter, groaning a little as you rub the heels of your hands into your eyes. When you drop them, you give him a tired, curious look. “What’re you still doin’ out here?”

Daryl swallows, caught off guard. You’ve never really talked to him directly before, and he peels his eyes away from your thigh, feeling his cheeks burn a little when he realizes you’ve caught him staring. He shrugs, muttering something about ‘keeping watch’ under his breath.

You just nod, and he figures the conversation is over. But then, you pull a near-empty pack of cigarettes from your back pocket and slip one between your lips, flashing a faint smile to yourself.

“Look what I found today,” you say casually, shaking the box, sparking his interest as you glance at him. “Still got that lighter?” You nod toward his jeans, and his hand shoots to his pocket, rubbing his clammy fingers against the fabric before pulling out his Zippo. He holds it up, flicking the fire to life, watching your lips purse as you pull the smoke from the cigarette into your mouth, igniting the small stick. He catches the faintest scent of you, something clean—crisp apples, maybe from the soap found on the run today—despite the dirt and sweat of this life. His hand shakes slightly as the flame catches, and the tip of your cigarette glows bright.

You pull back, taking a long drag and exhaling softly through your nose. “Thanks,” you say, the word quiet, almost lazy, savoring the feeling. You hold the pack out to him, and he hesitates for a second before taking one, avoiding the brush of your fingers.

He slips the cigarette between his lips and flicks the lighter again, but this time the spark sputters out before a flame can catch. He flicks it a few more times, his hand trembling harder now under your quiet gaze. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath, trying again. Nothing.

“Here,” you say, your voice calm but amused as you gesture for him to lean in. “Hold still.”

Daryl freezes, the cigarette twitching slightly between his lips as he says, “What’re ya—”

“I won’t bite, Daryl,” you tease gently, cutting him off with a faint smirk. The way you say his name, soft and easy, sends a jolt through him, like you’ve said something far more intimate. His knees would probably buckle if he were standing, but he stays rooted to the spot, barely breathing as you scoot closer.

You bring your lit cigarette up to his, the glowing tip inches from his mouth. He leans in stiffly, his lips fidgeting as he tries to hold still, but his hands won’t stop trembling, and the two cigarettes don’t quite line up. You huff a soft laugh, shaking your head slightly.

“Hold on,” you murmur, and before he can say anything, your free hand comes up to steady his chin. His breath catches as your fingers brush against the stubble on his jaw, tilting his face just enough to keep him from moving any more. Your touch is light, careful, but it’s enough to make him go completely still, his heart hammering in his chest.

As he pulls the cigarette to life, your eyes catch his, and suddenly your hand feels like it’s on fire. You wrench it away as quickly as you can, your body leaning back with it. His gaze, still fixed on you, is wide and unguarded, staring at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. The embers of your cigarettes glow softly between you in the dark night air, catching in his wild blue irises, and for a moment, the world feels far too still.

You clear your throat, exhaling a stream of smoke. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you feel…” You trail off, uncertain of the right word. Uncomfortable? Creeped out?

Daryl doesn’t move. He keeps staring at you, the cigarette held tightly between his lips, as if he’s stunned. Then, he pulls in another breath, his mouth opening slightly, like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. You catch the faintest flush rising along his neck, and you feel yourself brighten under his gaze as well.

“It’s fine,” he finally mutters, his voice rough and low, though now he’s avoiding your eyes, not quite meeting your gaze. He fumbles with the cigarette, taking another drag just to give himself something to do.

The tension between you lingers, the fire starting to die softly in the background, but neither of you speaks again. You lean back, pretending to focus on the stars, while he shifts uncomfortably beside you, his eyes darting between the fire and your profile.

Somewhere in the quiet, he exhales slowly, the smoke curling lazily in the moonlight, and though he doesn’t say it out loud, he knows he’s never going to forget the feeling of your fingers on his skin—or the way you’ve looked at him like he isn’t just another face in the group.

Daryl’s knee bounces restlessly as he tries to keep his eyes fixed on the embers of the fire in front of him. It’s too damn hard to focus with you sitting so close, your scent mingling with the smoke and pine in a way that makes his head spin. He doesn’t get why it’s so hard to sit still around you; he’s usually good at disappearing into the background, staying quiet. But with you here, just inches away, he feels like he has a spotlight on him.

“You’re quiet,” you say, your voice jolting him from his thoughts. “What’s on your mind, Dixon?”

His head jerks slightly at the sound of his name, and his lips twitch like he’s trying to come up with an answer. “Nothin’,” he mutters, glancing away quickly. “Just… thinkin’, I guess.”

You arch an eyebrow, leaning back slightly against the log. “Thinkin’ about what?”

He knows he should say something to brush you off, but his mind goes blank. The way you’re looking at him, like you’re waiting for him to crack—it makes him feel trapped and exposed all at once. Heat creeps up his neck even hotter, and he curses himself for it.

“Am I making you nervous, Daryl?” you tease, your voice soft but playful, and he hears the smirk in your tone.

He opens his mouth, then shuts it, looking down at his nails as if they might offer some kind of answer. “I just…” He pauses, breathing in sharply. “Ya make it hard to think straight.”

The words come out rough, almost like a confession he hadn’t meant to say out loud, and he feels his whole body tense, waiting for you to laugh, to pull away. But you don’t. Instead, you sit up, and he catches a faint smile on your lips.

“Yeah?” Your arms graze against each other as you lean forward, and he sucks in a sharp breath, trying to keep from shivering at the touch. “And why’s that?”

He clenches his jaw, his fingers twitching against his knee, and he’s got half a mind to just stand up and walk away, leave you here with your questions. But the other half of him is rooted in place, feeling like if he gets up and leaves, he’ll never get this chance again.

He doesn’t say anything, just shrugs and continues staring at you, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a fraction of a second before he catches himself and looks away. But in that brief glance, something shifts, and you suddenly realize…Daryl’s actually kinda… beautiful, and maybe it just took you being this close up to realize it fully. It wasn’t the obvious kind of beauty that shouts for attention—it was quieter, layered in ways that drew you in the longer you looked. The roughness of his features, the sharp angles of his jaw, and the slightly crooked bridge of his nose that was imperfectly charming. His eyes, a deep, piercing blue even in the low light, carried a depth, like he could unravel you with just one glance if he let himself.

And then there were the softer details—the curve of his lips, perpetually chapped from him always chewing them, but so inviting; the faint freckles scattered across his sun-kissed skin, like a map of every moment he’d spent under the open sky. There was a rugged cuteness in the way his hair fell across his forehead, messy and untamed, framing his face in a way that made you ache to reach out and brush it back. He was all contradictions—rough and tender, guarded and vulnerable—and somehow, that only made him more beautiful. He’s rough around the edges, sure, all grit and wary glances, but there’s something genuine about him that you haven’t seen in anyone else since the world fell apart.

Unlike the others, he’s the only one who doesn’t bristle when you’re a little short with him, the only one who just lets you be, never pushing too hard, never asking for anything. You’d caught him glancing at you more than once, his cheeks turning red as he quickly looked away, and it had left you wondering what it’d be like to close the space between you, to see if he’d keep up that quiet shyness even if you got a little closer. So far, it seems he would.

Before you feel yourself hesitate, you lean in and press your lips to his. 

Whatever had come over you in that instant, Daryl has no idea. His mind reels at how you could possibly want this from him. People didn’t look at him like that. Hell, they barely looked at him at all unless they needed something. He isn’t the kind of man anyone leaned into, let alone kissed like this.

The kiss is soft, tentative, testing, but the moment your mouth meets his, it’s like something inside him snaps. He goes still, his breath catching, and for a second, you think he might run for the hills.

But instead, he kisses you back, a little clumsy, his lips pressing against yours like he’s not sure he’s doing it right. But you don’t pull away, don’t dare laugh, and slowly, he finds himself leaning into you, his hand rising to rest lightly on your leg, the touch electrifying your core. You make a soft noise against his lips, and it sends a shiver down his spine, his fingers tightening a bit where they’re touching you.

When he finally pulls back, his mind’s spinning, like he can’t quite wrap his head around what just happened. Your eyes meet his, and there’s this soft look on your face, like you’re amused and happy all at once.

“I… uh…” He stammers, his voice rough, and he feels his face burning.

“You maybe wanna mess around?” you ask, breathless, the words slipping out before you have time to second-guess yourself. There’s a growing need deep in your belly that you can’t ignore, a heat that’s been building ever since you noticed the way his eyes kept flicking to you, his gaze soft yet uncertain.

Daryl’s cuteness catches you off guard every time you look at him—especially now, with the moonlight casting shadows across his face, highlighting the angles of his jaw, the softness in his eyes, the way he almost looks like he doesn’t know he’s handsome. 

His eyes go wide, and for a moment, he just stares at you, like he's not sure he heard you right. He is absolutely sure you can hear his heart pounding against his ribs, the blood pumping harder in his veins as his mind short circuits. His mouth opens, then shuts again, and he looks away, eyes on the ground as his brows furrow. He pulls the cigarette to his lips again, smoke sucking in between his teeth before he exhales sharply. He quickly looks back up to you, your eager, warm face still waiting for his response. 

"Uh..." He clears his throat, the tips of his ears turning red. "You... you serious?"

You can't help but smile, the shyness in his voice only making him more endearing. "Only if you want to," you murmur, letting your fingers trail over his kneecap, feeling the way he tenses under your touch. "Could be fun. Don't have to overthink it."

Your body was practically begging him to jump your bones, but he doesn’t seem to realize that. Didn’t seem to know the signs of clear hunger and want and need. Your fingers brushing his leg itched to feel more, but you kept yourself still–careful with him. 

Daryl swallows and lets out a shaky breath, his hand trembling slightly as it pushes his cigarette into the earth, snuffing it out and unsure of what to do next. His eyes dart up to yours, and there's a vulnerability there as he nods, unable to form the words.

He brings his one shaking hand up to cup your jaw, the rough pads of his hands sparking at the feeling of how soft your skin is. You smile again, leaning into his touch, gently closing the space between you while still letting him decide if he wants to continue on.

He does. God, he does. But as he looks at you, there's a flicker of hesitation as he feels the supple skin of your face under his touch, and he's afraid of what you might think if you knew the truth. That he's never had anyone like this before, never been this close, never had anyone look at him with such open want. The only thing he knows about sex is what he's seen in crude memories from Merle's old tapes, scenes filled with empty noises and rough images that look nothing like this.

Nothing like the way you're watching him, with warmth and softness, not a hint of demand.

He brushes his lips against yours, tentative, as if testing his limits. He's nervous, so unsure, but you lean in a little more, feeling his hand tremble as he holds you close, his fingers curling gently around the curve of your jaw. When you let your tongue push out to graze his top lip, he goes utterly still, a shuddering breath escaping him as his restraint crumbles. He deepens the kiss with a sudden hunger, his grip steadying, his hand anchoring you in place, and you’re not sure if it’s to keep you from pulling away or to keep him from running for the hills.

You feel his heart pounding under your hands as you bring them up to rest against his chest, the beat wild and frantic. You fist your hands into the thin fabric, trying in vain to pull him closer, even if you want to let him set the pace. His movements are unpracticed, but there's an intensity in the way he touches you, like he's pouring everything he doesn't know into this moment. You can't help but smile against his lips, his eager, clumsy attempts endearing in a way that only makes you want him more.

His hands shift, and you feel his fingers press against your waist, steadying himself as he moves closer. He's beautiful like this, his strong arms flexing with the movement, shadows tracing along his muscles under the moonlight, and the warmth of his touch sends a surge of heat pooling low in your belly.

The kiss grows more heated, messy, with tongues and teeth clashing as he grows bolder. It’s a little clumsy, but you don’t care. There’s something intoxicating about the way he’s so eager, so intent on exploring your mouth, every hesitant touch of his tongue making you melt further into him. A soft moan slips from your throat when his tongue slides against yours, the sound spilling out before you can stop it.

The noise seems to snag something in him. His breath hitches sharply, and he pulls back, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. His forehead rests against yours, warmth radiating between you, and his breaths are hot against your lips, still so close you can feel the faint tremble in him.

When he finally looks at you, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze, the sight of him sends a shiver through you. His pupils are blown wide, dark and searching, his mouth slick with shared wetness, lips parted as if he’s about to say something but can’t find the words.

But it’s you who nearly undoes him. Your flushed cheeks, your lips wet and swollen, the half-lidded haze in your eyes—he almost busts right then and there, his previous semi now throbbing from your lips connecting with his. The realization hits him like a lightning strike: he made you look like this. He made you moan. And the thought that you’re enjoying this, maybe enjoying him just as much as he’s enjoying you, leaves his head spinning even more.

Your lips curve into a lazy, teasing smile as your hand finds the nape of his neck, fingers tugging gently at the short strands of his hair. “Let’s move to your tent, yeah?” you murmur, your voice soft but full of intention.

Daryl nods enthusiastically, and without hesitation, he jumps to his feet, his eagerness on full display. For a brief moment, you’re level with his lap, and your gaze flickers to the growing bulge beneath the zipper of his jeans. The sight makes your breath hitch, heat pooling low between your legs as you glance up at him, catching his gaze. He sees where your eyes went, and for the first time tonight, something unbidden sparks in his expression—an almost bold glint as he reaches down, taking your hand and pulling you up with surprising firmness.

You’re silently grateful for the distance Daryl and Merle always kept from the others, their tents off to the side, a little more secluded. You’d still need to be quiet, but at least there’d be no direct neighbors overhearing the sounds you were sure to make.

Inside his tent, the air feels warmer, heavier with anticipation. Daryl sits down quickly, his legs splayed in front of him, uncertainty flashing across his features. He looks at you like he’s bracing himself, his hands fidgeting at his sides, unsure of what comes next. The hesitation in his gaze makes you think this might…all be new to him. You can see the way his throat works as he swallows hard, the thought of what’s about to happen clearly overwhelming him.

You don’t let him overthink it. Your heart pounds as you climb into his lap, straddling him. The heat of his body, the hard line of him pressing against your core through his jeans—it all sends a jolt of need straight through you. Your hands fly to his shoulders for balance, and he groans softly at the friction, his fingers automatically finding your waist, gripping you tightly as if to keep you from pulling away.

The first slow roll of your hips makes his breath stutter, and when you rock against him again, the friction has you both gasping. He leans forward, capturing your lips in a messy, desperate kiss. His tongue is eager, pushing into your mouth like he’s trying to memorize the taste of you, the feel of you, and you let him, your hands threading into his hair. The pull of your fingers against his scalp makes him groan, the sound muffled against your lips as his hands tighten on your waist.

When you pull back, panting, you pause the sway of your hips just long enough to reach for the hem of your shirt. Daryl watches, wide-eyed, as you pull the fabric over your head and drop it to the side. His chest heaves as he stares at you, his gaze flicking between your face and your bare skin. Even though your bra is still on, it’s enough to make his brain stop working.

He doesn’t wait. His lips are on you immediately, pressing against the valley between your breasts, the space his hands haven’t dared to touch yet. His mouth is warm, tentative but eager, as he kisses along the curve of your ribs, moving wherever the fabric of your bra doesn’t block him. When his lips find the sensitive spot at the base of your neck, just where it meets your shoulder, you grind down against him, a soft moan slipping from your lips.

“Daryl,” you whimper, your voice barely above a breath. His lips pause, hovering against your skin as he murmurs against you.

“Yeah?” His voice is a rasp, raw and hoarse, like he’s barely holding himself together.

“Please take off your clothes,” you whisper, your words trembling. You pull back slightly, giving him space, and he nods fervently, his hands fumbling to strip himself. His shirt comes off first, revealing the toned, scarred planes of his chest, and then he pushes his jeans down just far enough to free his cock, his hand fisting around himself in relief.

Your eyes drop instinctively, and when you see him, your breath catches. He’s big—almost too much—and you can’t help the way your mouth falls open, the sight making heat bloom through your body. When you finally meet his gaze again, his eyes are locked on you, dark with unspoken hunger. He doesn’t look at your face, though. His attention is fixed lower, on your chest, where your hands are already reaching behind you to unhook your bra.

“C’mere,” you beckon, laying back as you pull the rest of your clothes off. He uses one hand to push your legs apart, to settle himself between your thighs, but as he brings your legs apart, the glistening of your pussy stops him in his tracks. He’s overwhelmed with the primal instinct to bury himself in you one way or another, and he falls in a lying position between your legs, his arms wrapping around your thighs to bring your core to his mouth, his hot breath on your clenching lips. You lean up, propping yourself on your elbows as you watch him. You thought he was beautiful before but this…this view was breathtaking.

His eyes find yours, and he can’t even stop the groan that escapes him when his tongue attaches to your pussy. You throw your head back, a sigh slipping from you as he tries a lot of different menuevers, flattening his tongue and dragging it up and down, flicking it against the hole that he so badly wants to feel inside, but when he simply purses his lips and sucks on the engorged nub at the top of your folds, that’s when you fall from your elbows, and your loudest moan rocking through you. 

You can tell he’s more inexperienced than you expected, but it doesn’t matter to you, because once he got the hint, he went straight to exactly what you needed and craved. His lips were so surprisingly soft against you, his facial hair tickling the insides of your thighs as you clenched your legs around him. You rocked your hips into him, but you needed more. So much more.

You look back down at him then, your chest heaving as you bring your hand up to show him. "Please," you breathe, voice trembling with need. "Finger me–just like this." You curl a finger, then two, demonstrating the movement with a slow, deliberate ‘come-hither’ motion.

His blown-out blue eyes are locked on your hand, his breath catching before he brings his own between your legs. His fingers slip inside so easily, the hot wetness of your walls making him groan low in his throat. His cock twitches against the rough fabric of the tent underneath, but he doesn't touch himself—he's too focused on the way you react to him. When he adds another finger, curling them just as you showed him, your back arches violently, a ragged moan tearing from your throat. Your hand flies to his scalp, fingers digging into his hair, pulling as your hips buck against his mouth.

Daryl's groans grow louder, vibrating against you as his teeth graze your clit, sending shockwaves through your body. He doesn't hold back now-there's something primal in the way he devours you, the sounds he's making raw and desperate. His mouth works you relentlessly, tongue lapping and slurping at your slick heat, each growl reverberating through your core. He's losing himself in you, completely unguarded, no longer caring about keeping quiet or holding back.

The pressure building in your belly snaps all at once, and your vision floods with stars as the orgasm crashes through you. Your body locks into an arch, trembling as your jaw falls slack, a wordless cry spilling out of you. He doesn't stop, doesn't relent, even as you twitch and convulse beneath him. His mouth and fingers work you through your high, dragging every last wave of pleasure out of you until you're trembling from the overstimulation.

"O–okay, okay, okay," you gasp, your voice barely audible as you try to push him away, "you gotta stop, s’too much."

He slows his tongue, dragging his fingers out gently to settle your trembling limbs and presses soft kisses against your sensitive cunt before shifting up, laying himself over you. His arms cage you in on either side of your head, his face hovering close as his lips curve into a lazy smile. His arms tremble slightly, the strain of his own need barely contained, but he doesn't rush you. He just looks at you, drinking in the sight of what he's done to you-your flushed skin, mussed hair, and glassy, blown-out eyes. He searches your face, wondering if this was even real or if it was just a very, very vivid wet dream, and tomorrow he’d wake up to a mess in his pants.

But you lift your head just enough to capture his lips in a slow, heated kiss. He leans on one forearm beside your head, his other hand moving down to his cock, pumping it slowly, dragging the head of it through the slickness he created between your legs. The sensation pulls a soft whimper from you, your sensitive body twitching at the contact. His head falls into the crook of your neck, and you hear his breath stutter, thick and ragged, as he rubs himself against savoring the feeling. Before he follows that animal in him that needs to push into you, he picks his head up, eyes finding yours once again.

“Are—“ his voice breaks, thick with arousal but as he looks down at you, he wants to be sure. Needs to be, “are ya sure ya wanna—?”

“Daryl, if you don’t fuck me right now I might lose my goddamn mind,” you groan, your hands pulling at him in earnest.

A dark chuckle escapes him as he licks his lips and he guides himself into you, taking a moment to find your hole with his inexperienced aim. Your fingers trace over the valleys of his arms, hooking behind his head as you become impatient.

“Dare…” you whimper softly, rolling your hips in frustration as he keeps dragging the head of his cock along your folds.

Daryl’s brow furrows in concentration, his lips pressing into a tight line. You’re just about to reach down to help him when he finally catches the right angle. His breath hitches, his movements clumsy but determined as he pushes forward, the tip of his cock slipping into you.

His jaw goes slack almost instantly, a deep, shaky groan spilling from his throat. Nothing, absolutely fucking nothing he’d ever imagined—not his hand, not spit, not even the filthy images burned into his mind from Merle’s videos—could compare to this. The heat of you, the way your walls grip him, hot and wet and so perfect—it’s almost too much. His forehead drops to your shoulder, and he shudders against you as your back arches to meet him, adjusting to his size. He stays still, whether to let you adjust or to keep from losing himself, you’re not sure, but you’re grateful for the pause as your body stretches to accommodate him.

When you can’t wait any longer, you shift beneath him, rolling your hips slightly. The subtle movement makes him gasp sharply, his fingers tightening on your waist. His forehead presses harder against your shoulder, his breath ragged as he tries to keep control. He pulls back slowly, dragging his cock out of you inch by inch before pushing forward again, his thrusts tentative and uneven.

His groans are low and guttural, spilling out against your neck as he sets a slow, deliberate pace. Each movement sends sparks of pleasure shooting through you, and as you grip his shoulders tighter, he seems to take it as encouragement, his rhythm growing a little more confident with every roll of his hips. The way your body responds to him, the way you clutch at him like you don’t want him to stop—it’s overwhelming, almost too much for him to process. Your breath in his ear is hot and heavy, urging him to give you more, to go harder, faster, your begging almost throwing him off so much he nearly cums at the sound of your voice in his ear.

“Daryl, please–” you begin again, but his hand clamps over your mouth.

“Shut. Up.” he growls, squeezing his brows together, jaw tightening. The tension in his voice is raw, desperate. He’s holding on by a thread, trying to make this last, but your pleas are unraveling him too fast. In any other circumstance, you might’ve hit a man for talking to you like that. But the way Daryl is rutting into you, his movements so desperate and hungry, it only causes you to gush around him more. And it seems like he felt it, too.

“Yeah?” he breathes, “You like when I talk to you like that, you dirty whore?” he moans, guttural and breathy. You whimper against him, and he’s surprised the dirty talk even worked, only hearing it in some video he saw once. His mouth finds your neck, his teeth nipping and his lips pressing bruising kisses down your shoulder. One hand clamps tighter on your waist, his grip sure to leave marks, while his other remains firm over your mouth, stifling the moans spilling from you.

His thrusts turn harder, deeper, his hips driving into you with a roughness that has you gasping against his hand. He doesn’t realize how hard he’s biting and sucking on your skin, marking you in a way that will surely leave hickeys. You lift your hips with every push into you, his cock now overwhelmingly bottoming out into you every thrust, skin slapping and animalistic groans coming from both of you. 

When your hand drifts down between your bodies, he sits back on his heels, gripping your hips and pulling you with him to watch. His thrusts slow for a moment as his wide, awestruck eyes follow the trail of your fingers pinching your nipples, then slipping lower to rub your clit.

His jaw drops, his breath coming in sharp pants as he watches you. “Fuck,” he mutters, his voice hoarse and shaky, his pace faltering. The sight of you touching yourself while he’s inside you—while your body stretches to take him—is almost too much for him to handle. He’s never seen anything so fucking perfect, the way his cock slides in and out of you, your juices coating him as you continue to pleasure yourself. To pleasure yourself to the act of him fucking you. Him.

You pick up the pace of your fingers, circling your clit faster as his thrusts grow erratic, his control slipping. He shakes his head slightly, pulling your hand away and replacing it with his own. His rough fingers rub your clit in messy circles, and the look on his face—sweat beading on his forehead, his eyes dark and glassy with need—is enough to send you over the edge, writhing and arching and mewling in ecstasy. The way your walls tighten and flutter around him pulls a strangled sound from his throat. He stutters out one final thrust before following you, a high-pitched moan spilling from his lips as he collapses onto you. He buries his face in your neck again, his body shaking as he empties himself inside you, riding out the waves of his climax with unsteady thrusts. 

Your bodies stick together, sweat mingling as you both fight to catch your breath. He doesn’t move, his weight a comforting pressure as his lips brush lazily against your shoulder. You tilt your head, planting soft kisses along his jaw until you find his lips, kissing him gently, lazily.

“That was…” you breathe, your voice still uneven, “amazing.”

His half-hooded eyes meet yours, a small, almost bashful smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, your fingers brushing through his damp hair. “Hopefully not the first and last?”

“Definitely not,” he murmurs, his voice low but sure, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

[carmenberzattosgf]

OH MY GOD CARMY SMOKING WHILE YOU RIDE HIM walk with me…

maybe you’re at his place, or his office, and you’ve just been kinda needy all day. not to an ‘annoying’ extent, but carmen sees it because he knows you. so when he tugs his jeans and boxers down just enough for you, you pounce

he leans back in his couch/chair, pulling out a cigarette and lazily watches you go at it. maybe he’d tug your shirt up so he could ‘see his girls.’ his nonchalance just drives you fucking crazy and he lets you do it yourself, no matter how many times you whine for him to help because ‘you were fuckin’ gagging for it all day, who am i to interrupt, huh? jus’ keep fuckin’ me like that’

i don’t think he’d blow smoke in your face (intentionally) but if you find it hot he would. and once he’s done he puts out the cigarette, his lax grip on your thighs tightening as he starts snapping his hips against yours

Also includes this ask I got shortly after: Camry smoking a cig during sex has my mind going brrrrrrrrrrrrr. It's so lazy, too. just slow riding him while he lays back and watches. Maybe it's punishment for acting up???? You're just whining on his cock begging for him to help you cum.

I. YEAH. YOU GET IT. Time to expand on these thoughts. ( this ended up being 1670k words of filth)

You find yourself at Carmy’s apartment on his day off. Those don’t come around too often. You expected him to do something by now, but he hasn’t made a single move to get his hands on you. He kissed you when you came in, but that was about it.

You take matters into your own hands. Try to, at least. You are practically all over him, never leaving his side. When he’s standing at his kitchen counter that evening, pouring you a glass of wine, you quietly walk up behind him. Your arms wrap around his waist while you rest your forehead on the center of Carmy’s back. You let your hands gently slide over the taunt muscles of his stomach over his shirt as you speak.

“I’ve missed you, Bear. Missed your hugs. It feels like I’ve hardly seen you all week.” He sighs into your touch.

“I’ve missed you too, baby.” Carmy turns around to hand you the glass. “Work was extra crazy this week. I’m sorry I didn’t have time to see you.”

“It’s alright. I know it was out of your control…Maybe there’s a way you can make it up to me?” You flash him a look he knows full well.

A breathy chuckle leaves his lips. “Sweetheart, I’m exhausted. Can we just watch some tv?”

You don’t even attempt to hide the pout on your face as you settle next to him on the couch, leaning against him with his arm around you. Carmy put on a show he knows the both of you like.

You only keep your hands to yourself for one whole episode. Your movements start slow. At first you begin to trail your fingertips along his side. It’s not long before your hand slides up under the fabric of his white tee.

“Baby, what are you doing?” Carmen’s voice is smooth and calm. You lean up to press a kiss on his check, followed by a quick one to his neck.

“Oh. Nothing.”

“Let’s not play dumb now. I think you know better than that.” He leans back away from your body, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’m going to let you try again. What are you doing?”

You fold instantly. “I need you, Carm. I really need you.”

“Yeah? Missed my cock, huh? Want it so bad that you don’t care about how tired I am?”

“No! No, that’s not it—“ you protest quickly.

“Fine.” Carmy begins to unbuckle his belt as he speaks. “But I’m not putting in any work.” He lowers his jeans and boxers just enough to free his dick.

Without a second thought, you stand up from the couch and pull down your pants and underwear. Once you straddle his hips, you reach down and pump his hard cock, spreading the precum over his length. Carmy takes in the sight of you as you gradually sink down onto him. Slowly, inch by inch.

Despite how many times you've been with Carmy, you still haven't gotten used to the stretch. In a position like this, it almost feels like he's in your stomach. Your eyelids squint shut while you take deep breaths and try to adjust. Though, at the sound of a lighter, your eyes pop right back open, staring down at Carmen with wide-eyes. A cigarette rests between his lips, having just been lit.

“W-what are you doing?” You’re expecting him to start guiding your hips, but he doesn’t. Carmy leans back against the couch, making himself comfortable. He lets his legs spread wide, forcing you to straddle higher up on his hips. The action presses his cock even deeper inside of you. He looks as though he’s having an evening cigarette, only difference is that you’re on top of him.

His tattooed fingers takes the cigarette from his mouth so he can blow out the smoke. Carmy turns his head to the side, blowing the smoke cloud away from you. The smell quickly fills up your nose. "I told you, l'm tired.” His voice is stoic. If it wasn’t for his cock pulsing inside of you, you wouldn’t think he’s turned on. “Go on and get yourself off. I'm going to enjoy my cigarette."

You start slow, grinding your hips on him. Your hands rest on his lower stomach for leverage as you rock against him. His abs are taunt and hard underneath your palms. The motion rubs your clit on his pelvis, causing a breathless moan to leave your throat.

Carmy remains still beneath you, watching you with lust-filled eyes. One of his hands rests on your thigh. His other hand tends to the cigarette in his mouth. He speaks up after a moment of letting you rock against him.

“Should have just let you sit on my thigh if all you’re going to do is grind on me. Thought you said you wanted my cock?” He waits for your response, bringing the cigarette back up to his lips to take a deep drag.

“I-I do—“ Carmy doesn’t let you finish your sentence, lightly blowing smoke into your face. He doesn’t miss the way you clench around him from the simple action, but he chooses not to tease you for it.

“Then fuck yourself on me. You’re a big girl. You can do it by yourself.”

You whimper pitifully. You want his strong arms to grab your hips and slam you down onto his cock, but that wasn’t going to happen. You rise up on your knees, letting his cock thrust almost entirely out of you. Your hips sink right back down onto him afterwards. The pleasure is unexplainable, sending electricity through your veins as he bottoms out.

You set a slow pace, not able to go as fast without Carmy’s help. His pupils are blown wide as he stares up at you, before his gaze moves downwards. He watches as his cock disappears inside of you with each slow thrust. You’re dripping, coating his dick with your arousal. The sight of his thick cock stretching you out hypnotizes him.

His lack of words and refusal to help is killing you. You need him to fuck you. Your thighs burn, growing tired from the repetitive movements. “C-carm. Need you to help. Please- please I need it.” You cry out.

“You were the one gagging for my cock all day. Why should I help? Just keep fucking me like this, yeah?” He’s nearing the end of his cigarette, only a couple more minutes of life left in it. You try your best to continue bouncing on him, but it’s getting more difficult by the minute.

“Carm— fuck!” You exclaim as his cock nudges against that spot deep inside you. Carmy ignores your cries. He takes his hand off of your thigh and tugs the material of your tank top up, exposing your tits.

“There we go. Now I can see my girls.” He still doesn’t go any further than that, letting his hand go back to resting on your thigh. Not even so much as rubbing a thumb over your breast. He goes back to watching you move, fighting the urge to hold your tits for you while you bounce.

The muscles in your legs begin to twitch, but not from being close to your high. Your legs are exhausted, and your pace shows it. You’re getting slower, not going as consistently.

Carmy reaches the end of his cigarette, taking one last long drag. He grabs your face with his hand. His thumb on your chin opens up your lips. Carmen exhales the smoke into your mouth, expecting you to inhale it. You do exactly that, letting the smoke fill up your lungs before blowing it out in the space between the two of you.

Now fully satisfied, Carmy reaches over to stub out his cigarette on the ash tray sitting on the side table. Without offering a single word, Carmy digs his hands into both of your thighs and starts slamming his hips into yours. Sounds of skin against skin echo against the walls.

“Shit! Fuck, Carmy—“ you moan, not even trying to control your volume. “I can— I can feel you in my stomach, shit—“ You take one of your hands and press beneath your navel, feeling his cock as it thrusts rapidly into your soaking cunt. “Feels so good, Carm.” You’re blabbering at this point, high on the feeling of him inside you. Your orgasm draws close fast.

“Yeah you needed me so bad that you couldn’t get off without me? Is that it? My little girl needed some help?”

“Yes—“

“Then what do you say?” Carmen is nearing his own high, too. His pace grows sloppy.

“T-thank you— fuck— thank you, Carmy.”

“There’s my respectful good girl. Just needed a little bit of punishment to get her back.” He detaches a hand from your thigh, moving it to your aching clit. He rubs tight fast circles on the bud with a calloused thumb. “Go on, baby. Cum for me. Soak my cock.”

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train. Euphoria floods through your veins as Carmy fucks you through it. You collapse into his body, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. The sounds of your moans and whimpers muffles in the skin of his neck. Your body shakes from pleasure.

Carmy removes his thumb from your clit, not wanting to overstimulate you. You had already been punished enough. His hand rests at the back of your head, cupping it gently. The gentleness of his hands starkly contrasts the way his hips sharply thrust into you.

“Atta girl. Just a bit more—“ he groans, offering you some praise. With a few more powerful thrusts of his hips, Carmy spills inside of you, filling you up with his cum. You both remain wordless in each others’ arms for a moment, trying to catch a breath. Carmy is the first to break the silence. “You happy now?” This time his voice has a hint of laugh to it.

“Mhm.” You kiss his neck. “Very happy. Thank you.”

“I think you know I’ll do anything you want at this point.” He laughs. “Now, can we go clean up and go to sleep? I’m even more exhausted now, baby.”

[cryptfile]

Ꮺ˖˚₊ leeches, [ logan howlett x vampire!reader au ]

summary — logan howlett lacks of patience (and he can also be a nice little blood-bag while losing his temper). 8k+

warnings — 18+ mdni, fem!reader implied, blood kink (keep in mind you’re a vampire! not twilight but more of a true blood kind?) downright filth im sorry, dead dove do not eat, smoker!reader, endless tension, manhandling, praise kink, kind of porn without plot (LIES CAUSE IT HAS ONE THO??) my boy's into paaaaaain can't help it it's canon, age-gap at first (reader is her 20's but again, vampire), public sex (it just happened), daily reminder to wrap it before you tap it, p in v, choking, filthy mouth, pet names.

side notes — thought this could take place after days of the future past? au cause why nottttt ,,currently on ovulation season so bare with me,,, been a little mia cause i’m surviving aka going through the worst semester of my life at uni? internships are breaking my ass currently so well, here i am just existing, also, english’s not my first language and everyday i’m grateful for it, so any mistakes i’m not sorry in advance lol i’m also too lazy to correct once published,, feel free to send more logan requests since i've basically been a slut for him for a while now (i'm rotting in hell).

He could swear the mansion got ten degrees hotter when you came in.

It’s inevitable. It’s this thing you carry, the way you move — Graceful, elegant, almost compelling as the air fills the room. It’s not public knowledge that you’re not a mutant itself, yet you’re presented like one, like you have healing factors and age painfully slow, but human after all, a subtle lie, one that can harm no one.

It’s safe to say you catch his attention in the most annoying way: How couldn’t you? All you do is this weird seduction he’s appealed to, whether you’re conscious or not it’s just captivating, an invisible force that even when you ignore it is there, there waiting for the perfect moment to flood every time you happen to be in the same room.

Captivating. That’s the word.

The room becomes smaller after, the air grows thicker, and it’s almost like a ticking bomb, the way you wouldn’t even look at his face while he’s noticeable pinning after Jean Grey, the mystery that surrounds you and he cannot seem to resolve no matter how much time he puts into it.

It’s like he's the plague. You don’t really try to exchange more than just a few words, only when it's needed and you cannot avoid him any longer, and he didn’t say anything at first, keeping his distance too cause he don’t see how you’d become friends, cause after all, what he could have in common with a girl that doesn't surpass the twenty years?

But soon he's upset about it, even when he doesn't really say anything out loud, it's a spike he cannot reach under his skin. You seem to become friends with anyone but him, mutant kids in your history lessons, the rest of the team, even the damn mailman when he delivered a package — You'd say hello like it's a long time lover or so, greeting people like they mean the world to you.

He has students now that are asking for a transfer from his class to yours cause it seems you're fun to be around, more like he is, and he fucking hates it.

It's fair to say it's been getting into his mind lately. That thing you do with your hair, twisting it in your index finger on a lock as you speak, the subtle red glow in your eyes he always catches by mistake, not enough fast to stop looking at you, pretending he didn't even see in your direction at first.

Tension. Logan just happens to hate tension.

In fact. He's almost sure your problem is personal, that you might hate him enough to act like he didn't exist at all, enough to avoid him like he was not there.

That's why it's just so weird.

When he finds himself walking down the hallway to the kitchen and he smells this cherry-scented aroma that settles under his nostrils, he changes the direction he's walking to, to instead, follow the path to the person that was silently smoking outside. Hiding. Maybe, a student he'll have to scold like the old man he was turning into.

No smoking in the mansion!

However, as the night is just settling, he doesn't recognize a little mutant, but instead happens to recognize you in the middle of the gardens of the mansion, close to the maze; escaping the comfort of the inside to enjoy a self-rolled cherry tobacco he has smelled before in the air. He's a victim mostly, cause his legs move on it's own as his mouth go dry, approaching you in silence.

"What do you want?" you ask when he's halfway there. And your tone is just cold as ever, not an ounce of feeling as he contemplates your side profile, the way the tobacco sticks out of your parted lips, seated on a bench hidden between bushes and trees — "Is Scott bitching about the smell going into the mansion already?"

No. He's not. But he doesn't have enough reasons to explain exactly why he's outside if you asked, why, all of sudden, he followed the scent of cherry knowing it was you the only one who carried a colts package in the pocket of every single jacket you wore, constantly asking Storm if she could hold on to the bag of filters for you while you rolled in the worst moments.

It's distracting, to say the least.

"Yeah," he quickly says, lying cause in reality he hasn't seen the guy in the whole day, yet it sounds like something he would say. "Do you happen to have another one of those to share?"

You don't talk much, hand reaching his as you offered him from your tobacco without a single word, the same that was placed between your lips and now was on his in what seemed to be something more intimate than what he'd like to admit, the cherry taste filling his lungs as they weirdly enough, shared a cig.

"Aren't you too young to be smoking?"

You laugh, and the sound sends a shiver down his spine cause he has never heard a sound quite like it, nothing that resembles that throaty, raspy sound that came out of your lips in amusement thanks to his words. He, out of all people, has never seen you like that — "And how old you think I am?"

He seems to think about it for a second, carefully picking his next words. Logan knows that women and their age are a tricky thing, you cannot say a number that's too compromising, nor act stupid and say something that's clearly not correct — "Not a day over twenty-two."

The answer pleases you, and he just knows he's wrong, but you don't seem bothered by it, instead, you nod pretending he's right, like he just got the answer right away.

He can see why everyone's switching classes now. Cheeky bastards.

"Twenty-two is not young at all, but i'm twenty-seven though," you say, and he scoffs at the statement, seeking for any change in your heartbeat, any sign of a lie. The strange thing happens when he cannot pick any heart at all, any sign of pulse.

"You are pretty young still," he says, against his age, you’re just starting out living—. "You don't look like you are twenty-seven at all."

"Cause I age slower than the rest," it's a practiced lie. One you know from repeating the same explanation over and over again, the priced answer of why you haven't changed a single bit in the past few years and made you a mutant — "I never looked my age."

Such a fucking liar. He doesn't need any heartbeats to confirm it cause deep down you are a terrible actress, he can see it so clear, how you're calculating every answer, thinking about the correct thing to say, the normal thing to say.

"Is that your thing?" he asks, playing pretend almost as bad as you do. Tilting his head to the side as he questions you — "Age slowly?"

"I have healing powers," you explain as he tossed you the joint once again. "My saliva kinds of help healing wounds. It's pretty boring."

"Boring" Logan repeats. The word itself sounds so damn fun in your lips it's contradicting. "That doesn’t sound really boring."

There's a moment of silence after that. Where you smoke in silence taking in the taste of the cherry, and he is having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that your lips also touched the side of the cigar he was smoking before, the plain lies you've been repeating over and over the last ten minutes.

It's almost infuriating. Makes his blood boil without question, he surely endures your treatment of silence, but being lied to? That's a whole different level.

“How old are you, kid?”

Your brows furrow in response, a clueless face. You are pulling out this show once again Logan don’t buy for a damn second. Something about the scrunch in your nose, the way you dismissed your own powers as if they weren’t enough. He knows it’s all a lie. He knows it even when he doesn’t really know you at all, when it’s the first time you’re truly speaking to him after your arrival to the mansion almost a year ago.

“How old you really are?”

You laugh at the question once again, and he just knows it, knows it when he sees you barely illuminated by the dim light of the moon, the act you always keep up, a web of tangled lies you have to be into— “Told you i'm twenty-seven already, didn't you hear?”

“Is it now?” he asks, amused by the sass, exhaling the smoke of the low-quality tobacco he doesn't understand why you're so invested in when passed it to him—. “Cause you don’t seem very convinced, it really sounds like bullshit to me.”

You're almost offended. By the look you give it's like the worst mistake he could ever make, yet you remain silent, not giving the satisfaction of an honest answer yet. Testing his patience like he did have one to begin with.

"Is that why I can’t hear your heartbeats, darlin'? Cause you age so slowly?”

The nickname scratches a part of your brain, and you hate him for it. The word rolls out of his tongue with an accent, smoking your cherry tobacco cause you happen to be nice.

“You can’t?” you’re good at faking it suddenly, at least, that's what he thinks when your brows furrow in alleged curiosity, stiffening your back, uncomfortable. “How weird.”

“Damn right it is” that's when you realize he knows you are lying. Even when you don’t talk much, even when you act all stiff and bothered when he’s close, he knows that you are fully invested in lying. In whatever twisted little lie you've planned, like it was your real life and not something you made up. “Are you going to tell me truth, then or do I have to find out? Does the professor know that you're lying?”

The smoke lingers in the air.

“How old are you?” he asks once again, demanding an honest answer this time — "Thirty? Thirty-five?"

You find his questions annoying, mostly cause he won't stop until he gets an answer, one that pleases him enough to leave you alone, the other part cause you happen to like the playful banter you two keep going, dangerously much. You don't hate attention it's clear, what you do hate it's the way he seemed to see pass the lie, to demand more even when he has no right to.

He enjoys being the one who's right though, Logan cannot help it. He's pleased to catch that look on your face who says everything but nothing at once, to have you where he wanted, almost at the edge of admitting a truth.

Is it payback because you've been stealing all of the little mutants from his class? He's jealous cause kids like being around you? It does not make much sense, but he is fully invested. Questioning all.

Even when you're outside, it seems like the air grows thicker. And Logan finds himself seeking for your breathing, cause he don't know nothing, nothing about you more than the fact you don't seem to have a heartbeat, or pulse and now, breathing.

“If you really are that eager to know, i'm a hundred and twenty-seven” the words float in the air for a while, and he's sure you're just messing with him, cause there's no way a pretty little face like yours had endured a century. “I've been alive for quite a while.”

He doesn't fully believe it first. Of course he doesn't. Logan's sure you're messing with him also, distracting him about your real age.

“And I supposed this do come from you slow aging powers” He tries to give you a point there, but it's difficult to be serious when you're just playing with him—. "How so?"

To be honest, you do have a little temper yourself, you've learned to stand up for yourself most of the time, so when you happen to notice he's teasing you, that he doesn't really believe you, you adopt this attitude of defense he notices as you shift over the wood you're seated in.

"No, it doesn't" you steal the joint from his hands to have a smoke yourself. "You really aren't as smart as I thought you were, huh?"

Do you happen to have a dead wish? His muscles tense beneath his shirt, and in contrast of his problem, you can hear it all. All the sounds his body makes when he's all bothered just by the beat of his heart, that annoying sound his bones make each time he moves.

"What are you?"

"That's it," the praising goes directly into his chest, the tone you use to tell him he's going in the right direction it feels just so right he forgets why he got mad in the first place—. "That's what you should be asking right there."

It's almost a shame having to admit he would also switch classes. That he would also go through all the paperwork himself without a second thought and that right there, is pathetic, but you're smiling at him as if you're encouraging the man to try harder, to find the answer himself, and fuck — He's old, too old, he's tired, he's in a bad mood as fucking usual, and he happens to dig a drink in the quiet of his own room, but he's pulled by something as equal as devastating as the gravity force, shoot towards you in pure need to have some answers even if he has to make you spit them.

"I find it strange, cause when you don't have a heartbeat, you aren't usually alive" Deep down he's fascinated, hazel eyes glues on your face trying to understand. He feels like he has it in the tip of his tongue waiting to leave his mouth as a catastrophic answer, but he doesn't find the right words.

"That's cause i'm not," you state it like it's something obvious. And just as he knows you're lying, this time, he knows you're telling the truth, blowing the smoke in his direction just to bother him — "Why do you think i'm teaching history after all huh?"

He hasn't seen it all, it seems.

Yeah.

He's losing it after that night.

It’s known that Logan has sleeping problems, but that night specifically he thinks about something else rather than what usually torments him, a truth he also has to keep a secret now that he's learned more about it.

See, Logan doesn't expect you to be really dead. Much less to hear what you are and have been hiding this whole time from the rest of the people in the mansion — He also learns that you feed on blood, that vampires are a common thing in the world and that he shouldn't, at least, be that surprised when he's a mutant in a world full of humans himself.

You are a folklore myth on small villages, stories in Rumania and horror character in films, so you don't blame him when as you spoke, he finally understands why you're so damn attractive, so damn seductive as you explained more about your way of living, some memories you've been keeping to yourself since being a vampire was so damn solitary, memories he listens to cause he knows what it's like, to be misunderstood, to be eternal, to be alone as well.

It makes the two of you grow closer by the next weeks. You now talked during broad daylight about random shit at first, about the war sometimes, about your condition as he refers to when people is around, eaves-dropping on what you two are talking so invested in. Friends.

Simple as that.

And it's safe to admit also that in the course of the next days, Logan Howlett is a fucking mess, and he knows it, but he won't do anything about it.

He won't flirt cause he knows you're a hell of a woman, in every good sense of the word, that he's way too damaged for a vampire even, for all kinds of people out there, and as much as he'd like to say anything, he values your attention, how you switched the attitude of acting like he didn't exist to be a friend, one that you came to share secrets with a cherry aroma glued in their skin.

It gets him insane, to the point he's no longer spending much time with Jean and people start to pick up on it as if he didn't have enough headaches already. He doesn't care. Shit you are not bothered by what people say, and to be honest, he cannot seem to care either.

At first, he's reluctant of keep on talking to you as normal as it is. He's not really invested in religious themes, but he sure admits you're a sin by all meanings, a religious experience of some kind if anyone asked him — He agrees with what he has heard also in the hallways. Innocent conversations of teens and their platonic crush on their teachers. You are pretty hot.

He's so interested in knowing more about you, about the nights you spend in Rumania, when you leave to Canada, the different lives you've lived across the years. He finds himself looking forward to share his stories too, weird enough, cause he's over two centuries himself and he just craves to talk about it with someone who also gets him in a deeper level, that weariness that fills your body when you age so long.

You got the best of immortality, and instead of feeling envious, Logan finds himself attracted to you so much like he's never been in his whole existence. Not at the point it happened with you at least.

By the end of the first month he knows your little treats. You use a lot of sunscreen, and avoid activities outside as much as you possibly can with those classic, tiny black sunglasses that hided you from the rays of the sun, always in the shadow so unapproachable; how you'd usually dismiss food offerings from anyone who's kind enough to even offer you something, and when you haven't fed well during the course of the week, you'd become the most maddening woman he'd ever met.

Maddening.

"What wrong with you, Leech?" Leech. You've been in such a bad mood lately that when he's seating next to you in another random smoking session outside, your fingers twitch, clearly pissed at the nickname after saying multiple times you don't like it.

"I'm not in the mood for plays now."

He can tell from before. When you talked to him that very morning and stared at the collar of his flannel for what it seemed a good, nice minute, he realizes the same moment that you were staring at that pulse point in his neck, where the flesh blood was pumping in his blood flow: You're hungry, as any living creature would be and at your own manner, in constant control as you fight the sense of hunger.

So instead, the mutant ask, like he always does when he’s curious about something that involves you:

"When did you last feed?"

"A couple of weeks ago."

That would explain it. You don't talk much about your meal plan, he knows the professor is in charge of all of that. You've told him about blood bags and hospitals, but he's not really aware of how constant you need to eat, how the blood supplies most of your energy, makes you stronger, gives you vitality, so Logan at first, don't really know what its like to not drink any blood in the course of two weeks.

"What happened with the blood bags from the Hospital?"

The mention of blood out loud seems to triggers you. A groan escaping your lips as you can swear you feel the taste in your mouth — "Don't know. Haven't seen a single one this week, Charles said something about next week, problems in the bank I guess."

You're clearly worked up. It's a new look he hasn't registered before, your hair is tangled in a less-composed look, and there's a slight shake in your hands as if you're going through withdrawal, deprived for what you needed the most.

"And animals?" he questions, trying to find a solution. “Can’t you eat a cat or something?”

"Like shit i'm going to feed from a fucking animal," you're almost immediately grossed out, scrunching your nose at the idea. "I can barely handle being so close to a damn human but animals? I'd rather fucking die this time for real, no waking up."

"That bad huh?" the mutant asks, taking a sip from the beer he sneaked outside, chucking lightly afterwards. "So you're a leech with elegant taste, huh? Of course you are."

"Clean blood is rare," you explain, rolling your eyes. It's inevitable. He knows you hate the nickname so much that he insists to keep on calling you that way just to get a reaction—. "Humans nowadays taste like dirt. They consume drugs among other substances, pills, food supplements, even damn vitamins, don’t get me started about blood diseases cause it gets me in a bad temper. Every single thing affects on your taste, even what you eat. It's all registered there. Clean, good blood is rare to find. Call me elegant, call me picky. It's a damn fact."

"And what about mutant blood?" he questions. And it seems like a mere phrase at first, one with no subtle tones, he’s usually curious about your nature so you don’t pay much attention as he spoke—. “You’re picky about mutants too?”

“No, i’ve never had a mutant before.” The truth is, you hate feeding from people, the act being something so intimate, so damn personal, you refrain yourself. Killing humans, picking a next victim to fed on, is considered now a treat you don't appreciate from your kind, making you steal from hospitals and any kind of blood bank before Charles offered you help. You haven't fed from a mutant, cause you avoided everyone equally, but you don't want to be rude about it. “You all smell different, but i’d be lying. Maybe yes, i’d be picky about it too, feeding is something intimate.”

It's an undeniable admission, and now that he's trying to be in your position, he would also be picky about someone's blood. Logan remains stoic cause he’s suddenly filled by the thought of something else, a glimpse of his own weird creativity he forces himself to push aside, to really suppress now that it's not the time or the moment.

“How do I smell?” It's too late to stop the words from coming out of his mouth when he asks her. And at first, is out of pure curiosity. He has never encountered a vampire in his life until you, let alone had someone talking about the subtle tastes of the blood being undead, so he doesn't want to let the opportunity slip — Of course he wants to know if an over two hundred mutant like himself would be as remotely good as a fresh, clean bag from the hospital.

"You stink like wet dog," he surely deserves it after all the times he’s been calling you a leech — "Like those cigars you tend to smoke, alcohol, and musk. It's similar as wood. That smell you got when you're in a forest and it's not raining but straight pouring."

"Is this a way of telling me i'd taste bad, peach?"

You make a mental note to let him know after you like peach way more than leech.

"If i'd found a human smelling like that, you won't be hearing from me anytime soon" you're just messing with him. A playful banter you enjoy more than ever, the distraction you needed to think in something else rather than the blood bags you craved so deeply — "Hell, i've would just walked the other way."

"So i'm taking you won't be feeding from me anytime soon."

It all takes a dark turn there. You're very aware of the tension the last month now that you talk to him in daily basis, but it’s just mere tension, nothing that ever goes beyond the limit. Logan has never said something to flirt with you despite the million chances he got, and he always remained like a friend, one that you enjoy spending time with now. Cannot be blamed when you're taken aback.

“Cat got your tongue, kiddo?” Man. You're about to whine about the name before you remember he is indeed, older than you are. Vampire or mutant.

"You want me to feed from you?"

He seems so willing when you ask. Even when you teased about his smell calling him a wet dog. He just seems so eager to let you just do it, try a mutant for the first time.

"Yeah," he dismisses it like it's not something so deep — "I doubt Charles is going to let you take a bite since you could clearly kill him, and I'm not sure the others would be pleased with the idea of you sinking your teeth in them, so yes. Me, leech."

Logan Howlett doesn't really smell bad. And you don't know why cause he has all the ingredients to fucking stink, yet, you'd call him interesting. That's what you thought when you find his pulse point again, the vein in his neck you looked earlier in the morning, thinking just as the same you were thinking now.

Of course you would feed from him. Is it a good thing to do? No, in any other circumstances you'd decline. He's your friend.

Now? You’re having a hard time.

"So I'm guessing that you're pleased with the idea, then," Real talk?, you just want to hear him say it. He doesn't talk much usually, but now that he's very vocal about what's on his mind, you have to take advantage of it—. "I'm not sure either. But I do think Storm may be interested too."

He seems content with the response, taking a long sip from his beer before adding — "Please, go and ask her so you're less annoying."

You're almost completely sure he doesn't find you annoying. You also don't care about Storm. And maybe he knows you're not going anywhere, that you're not moving.

"You really want me to bite you?"

"I dunno now, princess" he looks at you pleased now cause he got you where he wanted to, cause he managed to awake all the interest now that you're looking at him "Are you going to pull a Dracula on me?"

"No, i'm not going to suck you dry if that's what you're asking."

Logan chuckles. He's a damn masochist. It's been like that as long as he can remember. It may have to be with his healing powers cause he likes it more than usual, but the idea gets to his head soon enough, all falling so damn fast: Your breathing would be against his neck and he'd take the bite like a damn champ.

"Yeah I can handle you," he says, aroused. "You're not gonna hurt me if you take some blood. I'll be fine and you won't be a pain in the ass."

He acts so gruff about it but you hear the sound of his heartbeat already high enough to wake the entire mansion, his labored breathing since he suggested the idea himself. He digs it, strange enough. Thrives on the idea.

He's a grown man already, and he can take a little leech like yourself.

It's clear you're hungry, cause it doesn't take much for you to accept, nodding like you're defeated, like you just lost the war entirely, cause there's no many options here to take and even if it were, you are now interested in have him more than any other blood bag. In fact. To hell with the hospital.

"Okay."

It's a simple answer, and it sure works with him as you get close to him, the bench you always used to sit now seeming so small as you look around confirming you guys really are alone—. "You won't tell anyone?"

It's something stupid to ask, cause after all that time he has never said anything, keeping your secrets as if they were his own, saving you from weird questions people get sometimes as they didn't know much about you. He's clearly not going to say nothing at all.

"Are you going to stop whining for a second and just eat darlin'? Cause I might change my mind here."

He's feeling overload soon after.

You don’t need a formal invitation to lean closer to his neck.

There's no way to describe it also cause he has never seen something like that, never felt a similar sensation more than when he's fucking, the cold touch of your fingers in his chest, taunting the vein in his neck without a previous warning before leaning in even closer than before—. "Stay still" you demand, face close against his bare skin, only one goal in mind. "Don't move for a minute. Just-"

You cannot finish the sentence, and Logan can experience the sporadic pain of the bite first hand when your teeth finally sink in his neck, piercing the flesh so easily as you let the blood fill your mouth. He grunts at the sharp pain, his face contracting momentarily before it's replaced by a nice wave of pleasure, one that hits him right in the guts as he grabs you by the nape of your neck, pushing you against him, almost demanding you to be closer, to keep on taking what you want, what you've been craving for two weeks.

When did he turned into this perverted sick? Getting off by something so primal as the fact you're feasting on him.

The feeling of your lips and the clear suck you gave when feeding are sending him into a spiral, and to be honest, he didn't expect to be so devastated by you, by the way your fingers stay against his chest to prevent him from moving, pinning the mutant between the wood bench and yourself so he won’t move, won’t do anything unless you want him to,pressing on the wound to draw more blood out.

"You heal so damn fast," you complain, looking at the traces of your bite with an unpleased face as they disappeared on his skin as fast as you created them.

"Then bite me again. I don't care."

You chuckle before leaning once again, and you can feel how the air grows hotter than how it was usually, the shift on his breathing as you bite him again, pressing on the wounds once again just to suck.

And you’re hungry, it’s the whole deal. His taste differs from what you believe at first, a huge change from what humans taste like, from what you’re used to deal with in hospitals. There’s a subtle taste of alcohol yes, but it mixes good with the sweet taste of honey, the weird taste you cannot put into words. It must be a mutant thing for sure cause it’s thicker than usual, a mix of flavors that explode in your tongue.

The headache you suffered from the whole week seems to dissapear as you drink in, feeding the monster you responded to in your stomach, demanding you to make him bleed more, to satisfy yourself until you can’t have any more.

Logan, on the other hand, is really fighting against his very own war.

You’re already close enough, but he just wants you damn closer, as much as he possibly can. It’s clear that well, it hurts slightly, but he has endured much worse, means nothing when it’s the pleasure that comes with it who strikes on his body, the light sucking, the idea you’re full of his blood, that you are not on trouble as you were before thanks to him. All because of him.

He's not used to acts on his impulses, but he does it anyway.

"C'mere" he says in a strangled voice, Logan's having no trouble moving you around, grabbing you by the hips to make you straddle him, keeping you glued to his neck as he doesn't want to disturb you—. "You really are a pretty leech, huh?”

You hum against his skin, pleased at the contact, and when he realizes you’re not complaining about his actions, he let his fingers grip your tights, keeping you against him.

You can hear him making this sound, quite like a moan but not exactly when you’re licking the holes you left in his skin, he does heal fast and don’t need any of your help when you’re done, but you coat his skin with your saliva anyway just to speed up the process, cause you want to do it, looking down to him after to check if he’s pale or nearly dead. You never really know.

And Logan himself is just fine cause his fingers gather the blood under your lip when he takes the sight of you sitting in his lap as the pearly white rays of moonlight makes your skin shine, and he pushes them inside your mouth so you don't waste any drop of what it can be considered food.

"So what's the final verdict?" he asks as his hands are now grabbing your tights, there's something so intimate about the moment, so personal, hot as he presses his fingers against the flesh of your muscles, he understand what you said before—. "Do I taste like utter shit?"

"Well, i’d need another taste to have my final decision" he laughs, and he don't really laugh often so the unexpected sound sends a shiver down your spine now that you’ve heard the sound quite a while now—. "Not much, just a little."

“Have you fill then, peach” He encourages you. “I want you full so you don’t whine the rest of the week.”

You don’t have any heartbeat, but if you did, it would be ragging in your ears at his words. At the warmth he’s spreading like a disease on her body that, despite being dead and cold, you can feel more than ever.

“I like peach,” you admit, this time pressing a soft kiss before directly hurt him—. “Leech is annoying.”

He’s going to say something, tease you about it maybe but he’s interrupted by the nice feeling of what he considers are your fangs tearing his skin apart, familiarity hitting him all sudden as he moans, a rough sound that comes from the deep of his throat, hands coming down to squeeze your ass, making you gasp against his neck when you experience the aching need physically forming in his pants.

“Still,” you say, concentrated on not allowing the wounds to close. But at the lack of complaints on what he's doing, Logan’s hands kept wandering around, making you move against his now clearly stiffed cock—. “Fuck’s sake I said still.”

“Stop being a damn brat. You can eat while I move you,” he grunts annoyed, shoving you against him, the friction of his jeans against the thin fabric of your shorts is enough to keep you quiet: Feeding from a stranger and feeding from a person you’re attracted to are two different things, especially in the position you find yourself in. “You don’t have to do anything. Quit whining about it.”

In response, your fingers press against the wound, not caring if it hurts or if it bothers him, but just enough to get him to bleed more and prevent the cut from closing, lapping at the blood that gathered over his collarbone, staining his white tank before you could even avoid it.

Your fingers grab the fabric just to pull it slightly down so it won't bother you, and the deep sound his chest make when he mocks about your desperation is stuck on your brain for the next couple of minutes, indulging in his taste, shutting up the rest of the world.

A moan comes out of your lips, muffling it against his skin. You're too zoomed out to hear it, but he's on a hell of a ride too, moaning as he demands more. It's been a while since the last time you did something like that, combine the pleasure of something as primal as eating with a mundane activity like sex, so you kind of forgot how good it felt, blaming yourself from depriving from something so needed.

"Do you always get this turned on when someone bites you?"

"No" Logan answers as you finish. He's rock hard beneath you, and he lets you know it when he's controlling the movement of your hips, working you against him at a slow pace—. "See, the woman i'm trying to seduce don't usually bite me, nor make me their main dinner plate."

You whine at the friction.

He looks down to the cause of all his damn problems just to notice his pants being damped with nothing but a physical form of need, soothing the uncomfortable fabric of his blue jeans — "So wet for me already, you’re making a damn mess, do you always get this turned on when feeding?"

Cheeky bastard.

He's using your own words against you, and you cannot be less bothered as you laugh softly, licking your lips only cause you know there's dried blood in them, drowned in his smell, the honey taste that lingered in your mouth.

“No, I don’t.”

At the sight, Logan's hand grabs your jaw in a rough movement, making you look at him before making you kiss him, deepening the contact as fast as you give him the chance. His tongue is soon invading your bucal cavity as he takes control of it, slow, intense and needy, as if he was holding on so much time before giving in to his own desires.

It is something like that.

You don't need to breathe in daily basis, but there's a burning sensation in your chest of wanting, of infinite lust you've been also experiencing by yourself.

The old mutant can taste his own blood in your mouth, a metallic taste as he keeps on kissing you until your lips are pink and puffed. He has thought so much about it that now that he has the opportunity, he devours as if he's a starved man having his first meal in what seems are ages.

"You didn't tell me if I tasted bad."

You think about it for a second.

"I'm afraid you're a rare breed cause it doesn't make any sense" You don't need any help now moving, cause you're rolling your hips on top of him at your own pace, allowing him to use his hands for something else—. “You have all the ingredients to taste like shit, but it's nothing but the contrary, even better than the fucking blood bags.”

“Sounds like your going to make me your meal plan, darlin. I’m here offering you a hand and you just take everything,” — “Such a greedy little vampire.”

He doesn't seem to care though, same as before he's nothing but willing to let you take everything as much as he tries to bark about it. He's more worried about his hands now that they're sliding down your oversized shirt, tracing patterns over your stomach, his touch so hot against your usually cold temperature.

"Logan," you whine,— "Someone can see us out here."

"Now you care about that?" his hazel eyes are a shade darker when he speaks. "After you're nice and full of my blood?"

His hands are big enough to take your whole cunt, allowing his digits to roam over the fabric of your underwear, almost thanking you for using those loosened pajama shorts he has seen before that very night as he just takes the fabric and pull it to the side.

"Nobody is going to see us. It's late and everyone's sleeping, leech" he teases you, and you cannot bring yourself to care about the nickname at the feeling of his hand taunting you from over the fabric—. "If you can bite me here outside, you might as well take my cock here too."

You cannot battle against that. You're deep in whatever spell he puts you into, giving in to the attraction and the tension that now needs to be taken care of. Logan's fingers touch you in nothing but experience, cause he knows how to please after so much time alive, how much pressure he needs to apply to leave you plain dumb, pliable for him.

"D'you think I need to stretch you out before fucking you?" he asks against your neck after leaving a reasonable-sized hickey in the zone, he likes the idea of people finding out about what you've been doing with him the next morning. "Or you're a big girl and can take me all by yourself?"

He'd like to take your time with you. Thoroughly enjoy you as much as he wants to, let everyone know you're his now, that you're shuddering thanks to him only, but he's too needy for that, too deprived of you to take his time.

"I want you to use that pretty mouth of yours and talk to me," he demands, coming up to look at your face while torturing you, his index and middle finger rubbing your clit from over the underwear—. "I'm not properly touching you yet and you're losing it already, peach. C'mon, you can talk to me still."

"I can take you," you say in a strangled voice. "Please Logan, please."

It's the plea of your tone that gets him, the soft begging of an ache he can only soothe, your face while you ask for more, not aware of anything else but him.

"Please what?"

"Please just fuck me already," you ask in frustration—. "I just need you to fill me up for a damn while."

You are starting to love the sound of his laugh. The deep sound he makes when he’s really enjoying something, his voice in damn general.

"Be a good little vampire" He says in a gentle tone. Logan’s trying to be kind even when his touch is so rough. "Unbuckle my pants and take my cock out. My hands are busy now, and you can do it yourself."

He is busy indeed. Toying with your underwear being the only thing that’s keeping him from the direct contact, pushing the fabric against your hole as it works as a barrier, preventing his digits to fuck you as he’d like to. He’s busy keeping you in place, preventing you from downright melt as your hands came up to unbuckle his belt first, the sound of the metal as it moves filling the air for a couple of seconds before you put all your attention in the button of his jeans, the zipper coming down with the force you’re using.

“Yeah baby,” he praises—. “You’re doing so good, keep going.”

When you pull the fabric of his briefs down, he’s already leaking for you, pink head, slightly curved to the side, moaning, erratically how much he needs your hands on him, how you're wet and ready for his cock. You close your fist around him, stroking slowly as your hips lift up enough to position yourself on top of him.

He’s big. Damn fucking right he is, you’d expected it from before cause sometimes you swear you can see his full length in his jeans, but taking him in your hand is a struggle but itself.

“Are you going to take me yourself or do you need my help? I know you can.”

Despite his words, he does help. Grabbing the black fabric of your underwear to finally make it to the side, the tip of his dick pushing against your clit before he's the one to place it in your leaky hole, forcing himself slowly, giving you time to take him in, inch by inch.

“Good girl," he says, head rolling backwards for a brief moment as he experiences the warm sensation of your walls surrounding him, clenching against his cock as he keeps one hand on your hip, helping you as you lower yourself over him. "Let me look at you.��

His fingers grab your jaw, squeezing you as he makes you look back at him, pushing you once again as you holded a loud moan. He's stretching you at his need.

"One more time," he begs. "One more time and you got it, peach. You're almost there."

Jesus fuck. You can feel yourself getting dizzy. You've drank a lot of blood and you're now overwhelmed by this intense pleasure that formed in your lower stomach, gathering there and waiting for the perfect moment to explode—. "Fuck I-"

Logan's pampering you with kisses as a mere distraction, his lips travelling through your neck to your collarbone before you're finally seated on top of him, a muffled moan you need to shut filling the calm of the night.

"Fuck you're tight," he exhales, and he's lost in the sensation, the way your velvety walls welcome him inside. He stays still for a moment, giving you time to adjust, to make you the one who starts moving on top of him.

You can see his veins popping up. All over his chest and coming down to his shoulders and his arms, and god gracious — He smells so fucking good you’re tempted to ask if you can have a bite again.

The moment feels longer than usual, the seconds pass slowly as you stay there. Logan’s hands are just touching your skin from under your oversized t-shirt, taking in the low moans you gave him, the almost perceptible whispers as you get used to him, to his size.

He likes the intimacy of it, the bliss. Man you look so pretty in his lap when the light of the moon is stripping you all to his eyes, even if you’re fully dressed an he’s seated in a damn bench, he cannot enjoy it more, pulling you in for a needy kiss, one that is rougher than the first one and leads you to move inevitably.

His cock pushes past that nice spot inside, and the friction is enough to make you move again, rocking your hips at a slow pace for a few seconds. The sound of your moans is silenced by his demanding kisses, and now that he knows you can handle him, his grip on your hips turn more firm now, squeezing the skin there so he can control your speed, the rythm of your movements now faster than before.

“Shh, don’t whine” what he lacks of vocal usually, he pours it all in just fucking, talking you through it when he feels you’re being too loud—. “Do you want to wake the others? We can’t have them seeing you like this, all fed up and cock-drunk.”

“Let me bite you again,” you ask soon enough. And it takes a lot to do it, cause you’re doing it out of pure greed, cause you can’t have enough.

“Take whatever you want, leech, just don’t make me faint” he jokes, his panted breathing betraying him as he moans, incredibly interested in the idea—. “Want to be conscious when you cum all over my dick.”

Logan’s sure your eyes glisten in a red color as you lean over his neck. And this time is less affectionate, much less gentle as you finally bite him again, teeth piercing the flesh so easily his hips jolts against you in response of the sharp pain your fangs create, the warm sensation of his blood in contrast of your cold touch, tongue-licking all you get from him.

And fuck it feels good.

He shrudders beneath you, shaking his head just slightly at reflex of pain before continue working his way with you, placing his hand between your tights as he lets his fingers rub on your sensitive clit, just enough to make you bite on his neck harder, the lewd sounds of your cunt taking him between holded moans as you suck on his neck.

“That’s it taking me so good,” He praises — “You like that, princess? Like how you’re full of me?”

You hum against his skin. The blood coates your chin as it goes down through his chest, staining his white tank for a couple of seconds before the holes your teeth made finally closes on their own.

It’s pure ecstasy. He can feel it when you clenching around his cock, cheeks red from his blood going now through your system, his vitality, his energy.

You can feel him fucking everywhere. So when you kiss him it’s all teeth, bite and his blood.

The pleasure’s taking control of you now, and Logan’s dizzy from the blood loss, his body covered now in sweat as his words slur together, not threading any coherent thought.

“That’s it,” he says, making you bounce of his cock. “Gonna’ have you in my room then, all spread out f’me.”

His hand wrap around your neck tightly, keeping the direct contact as he chokes you. Shit. You don’t need to say a word. Logan already got you.

“James-” he’s too deep to question why you’re using that name with him. How you facade is crushing down now as you let go.

When your body trembles on top of him he’s already cumming too, the squeeze on his cock sufficent to fuck him up personally, his bruising grip on your hips shoving you as deep as he possibly can as his release hits him like a brick falling from the damn sky.

He lets you work for it, ride each second of your high, milk him dry as a white circle of his own cum mixed with your juices coated the base of his cock, his underwear now slick with your orgasm.

He’s struggling to breathe, to properly say something as you’re finally coming down from your peak, looking at him through half lidded eyes.

“Did you called me James?” he questions, and you’re a damn bad liar, cause he knows imediately you’re hidding something cause of the look on your face—. “Do we know each other? From before.”

You don’t know how to respond at first, at least, cause you cannot lie in a position like that now.

“Well uh. It’s quite a long story here.”

Before you can continue he gets up, making you wrap your legs around his hips before stsrting to walk to the mansion.

“Logan-” you say in a strangled moan yourself, still sensitive as he’s balls-deep inside you.

“It will be less than two minutes, leech” he responds gruffily,— “Need to get you into my room so I can enjoy you the rest of the night, and you can tell me all of it.”

He don’t care if he’s bloody or a damn mess as he squeezes your ass climbing up the stairs, much less if anyone see the two of you in that state.

“I want to hear all the details, Cause I have a weird feeling that this has happened before.”

You cannot find a reasonable excuse to say no as the man’s already reaching the second floor.

Logan’s fucked after that night. When he learned about all that you were before, weirdly connected to you through the decades.

It must be the bite isn’t? Shit. He’s more in sync than ever now that you’ve been feeding from him a lot the last few weeks.

Ah. You fucking leech.

my masterlist

[0ceanic-cosm0s]

To the Hellfire - chapter 2

[Josh Washington x F! Reader]

6.1k words

masterlist - one - two - three

chapter wrote by @sharkology & @xghostcr0wx

⚠️chapter warnings⚠️

[mature language, mentions of self harm, mentions of mental health issues, sexual tension]

"What the hell were you doing on the trail with Em, huh?" Matt tilts his head waiting for a response from Mike. This is not what you were expecting before meeting the last friends of Josh.

"What?" Mike asks in confusion but Matt's glaring gaze doesn't go away.

"I saw you and Em. Through the telescope." Matt replied shortly with clear agitation. Now you know why Matt was in such a sour mood before you, Chris, and Sam got to the lodge. You were still sitting next to Josh by the fire watching everything unfold. You want to look over and see Josh's reaction, but before you could Mike responded to Matt.

"Before? We just ran into each other. It'd been a while so we hugged and I said hello. Is that against the law?" Mike asks in the most laid back tone, as if there wasn't much to be worried about. You honestly didn't know what to make of Mike yet. This interaction between Matt and Mike is kind of weird and you have yet to introduce yourself to the latter.

"Right.. Yeah, duh." Matt doesn't sound so convincing but he continues, "Sorry. It's been kind of a long day, I overreacted." You're glad it didn't continue and you hear a sigh of relief next to you, coming from Josh. You look at him and give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, earning a small smile from him. You feel your throat dry a bit, reminding you of how little water you drank today. You remember Sam offered to hold your water bottle in her bag on the bus for you since it didn't fit in yours.

"I'll be right back, I'm going to get my water bottle from Sam." You inform Josh and he nods.

"Don't keep me waiting too long," He jokes and you give him a lazy smile.

Once you're over to Sam, who's sitting on the stairs near Chris and Ashley, she gives you back your water bottle.

A new girl you have yet to see walks in. 'Must be Matt's girlfriend?' you think to yourself. She was a beautiful girl with short black hair, dark eye makeup, a leather fur lined jacket, and some expensive jeans. Just from her presence you can tell she means business, giving off an intimidating aura. You definitely didn't want to get on her bad side.

Before you can thank Sam, you're interrupted by a voice from across the room. You look to see the girl everyone refers to by 'Em'.

"Oh my God. That's so gross." She says while walking into the main area of the lodge, crossing her arms, a clear look of disdain on her face directed at Jessica and Mike's PDA. "Are you trying to swallow his face whole?"

All you can think about is how weird this is becoming. You're pretty sure there's much to the story you're missing, either way you can't help but think about how much Josh's friend group doesn't really seem to be on good terms with each other. Clearly something to do with messy relationships and friendships thrown in.

"No one wants in on your territory hunny." Emily continues.

"Excuse me, did you say something?" Jessica asks with sass, puts a hand to her ear, and gets up from the couch.

"Oh did you not hear me? Was your sluttiness too loud?" Emily rhetorts.

"I'm sorry, was someone bitter she didn't make the cut?" Jessica countered. This is what causes you to get the bigger picture of the situation. You start to disassociate from what's going on, mostly waiting for this to be over. You look at Sam who's on your left, sitting on the stairs next to you and she just shakes her head in disappointment at the situation. At this point you're pretty much stuck where you are, because there's no way you're going to walk back to Josh during this cat fight. You aren't trying to get caught up in it.

"Whatever, I don't give a shit what you think." You hear from Jessica after you tune back into the conversation.

"At least I can think. 4.0, bitch. Honor roll." Emily claps back with no hesitation. Matt's interjections only make things worse and before it seems like everything's about to come to a climax, you see Josh stand up to break everything up.

"Stop it!" Josh yells which is enough to catch everyone's attention. "This is not why we came up here. This is not… helping. It's not what I wanted." His tone lowered, no longer yelling.

"If we can't get along for ten minutes then maybe we need a little bit of a break, right? Mike, why don't you go check out the guest cabin. The one I told you about."

You feel bad for Josh, it seemed like everything wasn't going the way he'd planned. It's a shame that there's still some unresolved tension in the friend group that can't be put aside for one night.

"Yeah...Yeah alright. " Mike says in agreement, clearly just going along with whatever. He holds his hand out to Jess. "You want to go do that?"

She takes his hand mumbling, "Any place without that whore." Then Jess and Mike leave the lodge.

Matt does a mind exploding motion with a vocal sound effect. "Man, glad that's over." He says and Josh agrees. You overhear something about Emily losing her designer bag, so she and Matt end up leaving the lodge to go find it.

You start talking with Sam while you were waiting for Josh, presumably giving Mike the keys to the cabin. You ask her what she has planned for the night and she mainly just wants to take a bath and relax, which you find understandable. Afterwards she takes her leave to start a bath, leaving you, Chris, and Ashley.

"Alright, peanut gallery, you know what? I got an idea for you two." Josh turns to Chris and Ashley.

"What?" Ashley asks curiously and you look at Josh, interested in what's going on.

"Okay well, I am pretty sure that somewhere in this crazy place we used to have.. a spirit board." Josh claims.

"A what?" Ashley inquired in a worried tone while Chris was asking if he was serious.

"Yeah they're fun, right?" Josh replies and grins in response, but there was no way you were going to mess with a spirit board.

"Josh, you're kidding! You're not actually gonna use that thing, right?" You push him on the shoulder and he just laughs at your worried antics. "You can't mess with those." You continue to tell him.

"No, those things are a joke, man. They don't do shit." Chris brushes it off.

"No way, bro. We used to do it all the time. Me and..." Josh's voice trails off, "Well-" He's cut off by Sam returning from the bathroom upstairs, and maybe it's for the best. You could tell that the conversation was slowly leaning towards a sensitive topic; his sisters.

"Hey Josh,” she catches his attention, “No hot water's kinda major oversight dontcha think?" Sam reaches the bottom of the stairs and walks over to the rest of the group.

"Yeah yeah, just gotta fire up the boiler, it's in the basement." He responds, "You guys see if you can find the spirit board." Josh suggests, giving Chris and Ashley the task.

"Chris, let's go find it! It'll be like a scavenger hunt!" Ashley exclaims with Chris following right behind her.

"Just wait upstairs in the bathroom and I'll get the boiler working for you." Josh tells Sam and she nods, thanking him. “[Y/n], would you mind helping?" He turns to you, his eyes capturing yours and making you feel instant nervousness. It was something small, but it was Josh asking you to help him. And it made you feel useful to him.

"Of course!" You say, but you felt like you sounded a little too enthusiastic. You didn't want to seem too incredibly down bad, even though you kind of were.

“Alright, rad.” He gives you his signature lopsided grin, and to your surprise, grabs your hand in his and leads you from behind him. Your heart thumps wildly and your stomach fills with nervousness but also excitement. His larger hands were rough-in a sort of comfortable way. You didn’t mind though. He squeezes your hand gently as you both begin to walk, and it makes your body ignite with eagerness.

His actions did confuse you though, making you wonder if this was just a friendly gesture to help guide you through the dimly lit lodge or maybe something more. You wanted to say something, anything, but decided to just let it happen. You wanted to enjoy the moment.

He heads over to a desk, and pulls out a flashlight while he talks, still holding your hand firmly, “Hey, notice how I gave Chris and Ash a mission together? Yeah, I was thinking they could use some ‘alone time’~” He says the last part in a somewhat suggestive way. You roll your eyes, not too surprised Josh would do something like that

“They do seem very sweet together, they’d make the cutest couple.” You reply. Josh nods to your words. “I swear they just need, like, something to bond over, ya know? Some sort of traumatic event to send them into each other's arms. I mean at this rate they’ll be in the geriatric ward before Chris makes a move.” You softly scoff at his words, and he starts to walk with you hand in hand in the direction to the basement doors.

But before you two head in, he stops in front of you for a brief moment, a slight hint of seriousness in his tone as he talks, “Ya know [Y/n]..”

“Yes, Josh?” You say in a hushed tone, looking up at him curiously. Your mind was spinning from the eye contact, and it didn’t help that his fingers were still intertwined with yours. You mentally try to calm yourself down as he starts to walk again and continues, “I just wanted to say.. I…” He trails off, huffing out a sigh. You grow a little worried at his actions.

“What?” You inquire. He stops you and turns to face you once more. “It really means a lot to me that everyone came back this year and you know, that..You agreed to come along. Even without knowing anything about these people and seeing how they were a bit ago..” Your heart swells with warmth at his words. The way he was so sincere made a small smile appear on your lips.

“Josh, we’re here for you. Whatever you need, whenever. Just let us know. You can make it through this. All of us, together.” You give his hand a reassuring squeeze, and he nods-continuing on down the stairs to the basement as he quietly responds. “Um, I just want us to have a good time, ya know?” You hum in acknowledgement.

You guys finally arrive at the breaker, and Josh lets go of your hand. You felt a small sting of disappointment from the loss of the heat between your guy’s palms, but you quickly brushed it off, reminding yourself it was most likely a friendly gesture.

“Hey sorry to drag you down into the bowels, I know it’s kinda dark and creepy.” He says as he leans down a bit with his flashlight, looking at the switches and buttons. You shrug, looking around at the old movie props and other stuff lying around. Probably from his dad. “Nah, it’s all good. I’d rather be stuck with you anyways.” You admit. He smiles, a playful glint in his eyes as he glances over. “Oh yeah? Did you have some sort of activities planned for us?” You scoff, gently smacking his shoulder.

“In your wildest dreams.” you say and he hums, looking back at the breaker with that adorable smirk.

“I mean they can get pretty wild, if you’d be a willing participant in them, Marbles?” He says jokingly, but there was a tone behind his words that suggested otherwise-though you didn’t pick it up. “Yeah right, you just keep dreaming.” You walk behind him, patting his back as you look around some more.

You spotted a baseball bat and grew curious of it, picking it up and swaying it around slowly. You turn to Josh with it. “Be pretty rough playing baseball out in all that snow.” He stands up straight and takes the bat from your hands as you gesture it to him.

“No it wasn’t in the winter, silly. I mean we’d come up for the summer and we would have the best time-the whole family was there Mom, Dad,…” His voice grew a little sad, and his expression dropped a bit as he continued, “... my sisters– It was some serious competition out there on the big lawn…I don’t know.”

Your smile fades to a small frown at his words, feeling a little guilty for picking up the baseball bat and having him talk about his sisters.

“Can’t go back..New reality, right [Y/n]?” You nod, and you want to say something, to at least comfort him-but he continues on and switches the subject quickly, putting down the bat. “Anyway, I’m supposed to be fixing this old guy, right?” He fiddled with the switches but no luck. He hands you the flashlight and you hold it for him as he fixes the breaker.

You were hearing some strange noises though, but thought it was just the old pipes in the lodge and ignored it, for now. Afterwards, Josh heads over to another switch panel and you follow.

“Alright just turn this knob for the water pressure while I flip the switch, think you can handle that?” You roll your [e/c] colored eyes at him, which he always found so cute; your little sassy side. “Pretty sure I can, I’m not five.”

He shrugs, walking back to the breaker. “Could’ve fooled me.” You shake your head at his snarky retort and turn the knob. Loud noises come from it once you hit the turn on button, signaling the boiler was up and running.

“Alright, good job Marbles! Gimme five.” You laugh as you give him a high five, finding it adorable yet the corniest thing. He closes the doors to the breaker, but again you hear a strange noise. “What the hell was that?” You question as you look towards the sounds. “Could be a lot of things..And none of them nice..” He says the last part in a deep sultry voice as he caresses and tickles your shoulder. It sent fiery shocks through your body at his touch, but you were a little scared.

“C’mon Josh, be for real.” You say as you turn to face him, slightly serious. “I’m just.. Just ’Joshing’ ya.” He jokes. You give a sarcastic laugh at him, earning a small one from him. “You were really freaked out huh?” You thought for a moment, thinking on what you should reply with. You decided to get back at him. You look over his shoulder, putting on a serious expression of worry and concern.

“Oh my God..” You whisper quietly. “Don’t move-“

“What?” He asks, mimicking your hushed tone.

“Something’s behind you..” He smirks, raising a brow in disbelief. “Yeah right.”

“Holy shit, Josh..Seriously. There’s something back there.” He slowly turns around, and you let out an amused laugh. He turns back to you and scoffs, a sweet smile on his lips. “Alright alright I see your point.” Just after he said that, another bang came from somewhere in the basement.

“Okay, so I’m not tripping. You hear that shit too?” Josh slowly moves in front of you, looking towards the area of where the sound is coming from. “Josh..?” You ask, a little nervous. “..What?” He retorts back.

“The rhythm is weirdly regular..” You whisper.

“Not..No..Nothing regular about it.” he responds back.

You walk closer to him from behind. “Maybe we should, you know, check it out?”

“Why?” He questions as you two cautiously walk over to the sound.

“I dunno, what if it’s like, a pipe that’s about to burst or some problem with the furnace?” You say, reaching out to his arm to hold for emotional support. You were getting a little freaked out, and needed something, anything to hold onto. “Unlikely.” He replies.

Josh pretended not to notice your hands wrapped around his arm, but on the inside his heart was racing rapidly, his anxiousness from your touch ought weighing the anxiousness from the mysterious banging. You responded, “If it were me I wouldn’t want this place to burn down on my watch.”

“..Yeah, right.” He replies. You let go of his arm and walk further to the strange sounds. And just then, a figure in a dark robe popped out of the corner. “NOPE!” You turn around so fast it almost makes you dizzy and sprint away, making sure to grab Josh’s hand in the process to drag him along with you. You two bolted from the stranger as they chased you, while you knocked down objects in front of them to slow them down.

You two made it to the door leading out of the basement, but for some reason it was locked? ”Now why the FUCK is this locked?” You yelled. “T-To keep out strangers!” Josh stuttered out. He turns around and protectively sticks his arm out in front of you as the clothed figure approaches you two.

“Hey..” It mumbles.

“..What?” You breathlessly question.

“Heyyy!” It repeats, sounding like a man’s voice. It was oddly familiar.

“..WHAT THE HELL??” You shout.

“Boom!” They removed the hood of their cloak, and it was Chris. “You just got monked!” He proclaimed proudly.

”WHAT??” You exclaimed, feeling your fear and shock turning into anger and frustration. Josh only chuckles, “Nice. Nice one, that was good.”

You stutter for a second, the anxiety you were having building up. “Why w..Why would you do that?” As you start to lay into Chris, you see out of the corner of your eye Josh looking you up and down. His green eyes drinking up your frantic form, and the way you were scared to death. It was almost like he enjoyed it. He bit his lip a little as he continued to stare at you while you tore Chris up like chopping up a fruit.

You try to ignore the way Josh is basically fantasizing about you right then and there and turn to him angrily. “Was your ass in on this putz??” You shove his shoulder slightly.

“Nope. But I wish I was! That was too fuckin’ good.” Chris and Josh high five each other, while you watched in irritation.

You guys opened the door and left. Your annoyed state calmed down a bit, and you started to reflect on the events of what happened. “Alright I’m ready to admit that your dumb little prank may have had a slight whiff of humor to it.” You say to Chris. “Jokemaster!” He exclaims back. As you two bicker, Josh locks the basement door.

“Well I said nothing about jokes, I said your prank, which was dumb-“ You continue but Josh cuts you off.

“Holy shit you were scared. Admit it.” Josh says as he places the flashlight on a desk. “I was NOT.” You protest. “Oh come on, you totally pissed yourself.” Your face was starting to get red from being flustered at being the only one who was actually the most freaked out.

You hear Sam call up from the bathroom, “Hot water’s running! Thanks guys.” Finally, you hear the voice of an angel, the only person who you could tolerate at this moment.

You and Josh call out a ‘You’re welcome’ to her as Chris and Ashley were talking to each other. You stand in front of the staircase while Josh tends to the fire. Ashley asks if Chris found the ‘thingy’ and he pulled out an ouija board from the robe he was wearing, making a goofy ass cartoon sound effect as he did.

You shake your head, “Nooope nope nope, I refuse to take part in that. You guys can have fun getting possessed and getting featured in the next Conjuring movie, but I’m out.” Chris laughs at your skittish behavior towards the board. “Aww, is someone getting scared again?”

“No, I’m being smart. It’s basic knowledge not to fuck with spirits. You’re not always gonna have Casper the friendly ghost come through. And this is Native land, so I’ll continue to be respectful of that thank you very MUCH.” Chris raises his hands in defense, turning back to Ashley.

You start your way up the staircase after grabbing your bag, but Josh really wanted you to stick around. As you make your way up the second floor, he jogs from the fireplace to the stairs, and to you, gently grabbing your arm. “Oh c’mon, you can’t be that freaked out [Y/n].” You huff, closing your eyes and lifting your head up in a mock snobby manner as you ignore him-continuing down the hallway to a vacant room.

“Wait-are you still mad?” He asks, following behind. You enter a cozy room, the moonlight casting a beautiful glow. You turn on the bedroom light and set your bag down as Josh joins you. “Matter of fact, I am. That ‘prank’ scared me to death.” You reply and sit on the bed, removing your snow boots. He kneels down in front of you and helps remove your shoes, and you let him. It was the least he could do.

“Hey I know that was pretty terrifying, I mean hell I was scared there for a second. But that’s just how my friends and I are. We just like playing stupid and goofy tricks on each other. Sorry you got caught up in it, I should’ve warned you.” His gaze was focused on your shoelaces as he talked, untying them and then slipping off the boot-going to work on the next one. But you could tell he was sincere.

You give yourself a moment to take in the view of Josh kneeling before you, giving you thoughts that aren't innocent at all. It's almost like he's in a worshiping position, just for you. Once he is finished with your shoes, he leaves you with your socks, his beautiful green eyes looking up at you. You thought for a moment what it would've been like if he just kept going and started taking off your clothes, and from the looks of it Josh was thinking the same thing. But you knew his friends were out there waiting for him.

"It's okay, I just really scare easily. I may have overreacted a bit." You admit, trying to shake away the lewd thoughts from your mind. However, you couldn't help but stare at Josh's lips. You can only imagine what it would feel like kissing him.

“No, I get it. You were scared, it's understandable.” he gives you a smirk before adding on, “but I will keep the first thing you said in mind.”

“Hey, you ass!” You lightly kick him in the chest in a playful way and Josh just laughs at you.

“Seriously though, you really don't wanna join in on the spirit board?” Josh asks, rising from his kneeling position and now towering over you from where you sit on the bed.

“I don't know.. I'm scared of those things, like giving unknown evils a way into my life.” You bite your lip and look away, remembering all the horror movies, legends, and so-called rules of the ouija board that you've grown up hearing.

“Hey, it'll be fine. Nothing bad is going to happen. I've done it many times before.” He reassures you, putting a warm hand on your shoulder. You relish in the physical contact, craving more.

You ponder for a moment, wondering if you're really about to risk having a spirit haunt you over a hot man. But it's Josh, so how could you not give in?

“Alright, fine,” you relent and Josh lets out a childish ‘yesss!’, “I'm not going to play it though, I'll watch.” You add on at the end in a matter of fact tone.

“Okay okay that's fair,” He agrees, and you're glad he doesn't push you on it. Josh's hand that was once on your shoulder, glides down your arm to your hand, holding it in his. The feeling of his hand inconspicuously stoking down your arm sent shivers down your spine, making your stomach tingle with the need for more. You knew that Josh knew what he was doing. “Let's go.” He says, leading you up off the bed.

And Josh did know what he was doing. He has everything planned out, planned out as much as he could. Him kneeling on the ground to take off your shoes? He wanted a better look at you from below, in an intimate position. His light touches and stroking your arm? Hopefully it would send a big enough message that he's interested and down bad for you. He really does want you and from the looks of it, it seems like you're feeling it too.

When Josh was at the mental hospital, he just thought he was gonna be bored out of his mind and have to stay in that hellhole for a whole month with nothing to do besides having constant breakdowns and therapy sessions. But then you came along, and instantly he felt intrigued. You were breathtaking, even when you looked like you just got out of a fight with the embodiment of depression. You still had this vibe to you, like you still had this luring confidence and uniqueness to you under all that anxiety and suicidal thoughts.

As he grew to know you, he was even more infatuated. The way you would smile, the way your eyes would travel around while you disassociated, how your small little scratches to your arms would indicate that you were thinking of your self harm scars, he would take note and observe everything about you. He wanted you, he wanted to know everything going on in your head. And he wanted to know what you thought of him too. That’s why he invited you here, to his lodge.

Yes, he wanted to make all those fantasies he’s had about you come to real life after months of longing and having to stroke himself out to the thoughts to relieve his frustrations. But he also wanted to genuinely know more about you and your mentality. Overall, he just wanted time with you. He was, for the lack of a better word, obsessed with you.

With your hand in his, you both leave the guest room to regroup with Chris and Ashley. By the time you're in the room with him, Josh lets go of your hand and you find yourself craving more of his warmth.

“So you changed your mind?” Chris asks in a playful mocking tone, you just roll your eyes and smile.

“Nope, still not playing. But I'll watch.” You state and sit down at the table where the spirit board is getting set up. Josh is on your left, Chris is on your right, and Ashley is right across from you. You can't help but steal glances at Josh on your left, especially with how hot he looked with the candle light on him.

“To free yourself from the spirit world you must free your mind of all preconceptions, drop all inhibitions, and generally give yourself over entirely to the will of others, sublimating your every desire to the whims of the ‘spirit master’, which is me.” Chris reads the instructions but jokingly adds what he wants at the end.

“It doesn't say that.” Ashley responds to his antics.

“Aaanndd all present will remove their garments at my discretion-” Chris is cut off by Josh.

“Come on Chris, this is serious.”

“Oh I am deadly serious.” Chris says in a funny voice impression and puts his hands on his hips.

“Shush it, let's try this.” Ashley says, ready to get on with it and Josh adds a ‘Yes please’.

“Okay then, let's see what happens.” Chris surprisingly listens to them and continues, “Ashley, since you're a recent convert, why don't you be our medium for today?”

Even though you're just watching, you're starting to feel anxious and nervous about what could happen. You're worried if anything can happen to you from just being in the same room as people playing the spirit board. And you knew you were already making the wrong choice by choosing to put yourself around one. All those horror movies you grew up on really left an impression on you.

“Okay um.. Anyone there?” Ashley calls out, ”Will you reveal yourself to us… If you're there..?”

After a few seconds of waiting, you see the planchette start to move. “Oh my God, guys!” You exclaim and point in disbelief.

“Wait a minute.” Chris responds in a skeptical tone.

“Did you do that..?” Josh turns and asks Ashley but she immediately responds with denial.

“Oh it's moving again!” Chris comments before the planchette starts spelling out a word.

“H-” Ashley reads the first letter.

“Are you guys just messing around?” You ask, but your question remains unanswered. You aren't fully convinced, considering the jokes this friend group pulls on each other all the time.

“What's it spelling?” Josh is starting to sound more urgent, no longer emitting his laid back attitude which is starting to make you worry a bit more too. You shift in your chair from an uncomfortable and eerie feeling.

“Hold on-” Ashley tries to wait for the planchette to stop moving.

“How is this happening?” Josh continues sounding a bit more frantic, making you panic on the inside more. This is no longer feeling like a joke, and if it is one, it's a bad joke that's starting to mess with Josh. You thought Josh used spirit boards all the time?

“Are you moving it?” Chris asks as the planchette proceeds to move from letter to letter. He isn't convinced that this is actually real, probably due in part to not believing in the supernatural.

“I swear! It's just moving.” Ashley denied, but right as she said that, the word finished spelling.

“Holy shit…” Josh utters out and you sit in silent shock.

‘H - E - L - P’

“How are we supposed to help?” You questioned. you're clearly scared at this point, especially since it's your first experience with a spirit board.

“I don't know, what does it mean?” Ashley asks in response.

“We need to know who it is if we want to help them.” Chris adds on, and you look over to Josh to see his reaction which is unreadable at the moment.

“Who are you..?” Ashley questions the spirit board, waiting for an answer.

The pointer starts moving again and chaos ensues once more. Everyone started talking over each other in confusion, worry, and disbelief.

‘S - I - S - T - E - R’

This revelation makes your mouth open in shock. You don't know how to react so you just look over to Josh.

“Who’s sister?!” Josh asks in a firm voice, looking like he was trying to decipher what was going on.

“Oh c’mon is this for real?” Chris inquired, not believing what was going on.

“Shut up.” Josh snaps at Chris, “Ask who's sister.” You can tell Josh is getting serious, and you've never seen him in this type of way.

“Josh… it's.. it's gotta be-” Ashley is cut off but everyone here knows what she's insinuating.

“Yeah, okay well,” Josh turns to Ashley, “ask it which one!”

You put a comforting hand on Josh's knee. You don't know if it can really help, but it's the thought that counts, right? He gives you acknowledgment by sending a glance your way, almost analyzing your features.

“Ashley, ask who it is.” Chris says, dropping his playful attitude.

“Who are we speaking to…?” Ashley asks before continuing again, “Beth, is that you?”

Another wave of anxiety washes over you as you wait in anticipation. The planchette moves to confirm Beth's presence.

“Oh God.” Ashley utters in scared shock.

“This is messed up.” Chris shakes his head in disapproval.

“Josh, you don't need to play anymore..” You bring up, trying to get everyone out of the uncomfortable situation. Josh didn't look like he was doing too well.

“I'm fine.”

“Are you sure because we can stop-” Ashley is cut off by Josh, his eyes fixed at the spirit board.

“No.”

“Dude, it's cool-” Chris starts, but is interrupted before he can even suggest anything.

“I want to hear what it says.” Josh affirms, his eyes meeting Chris.

You're glad Chris and Ashley aren't trying to push him to continue playing, it's quite the opposite. However, you're surprised Josh wants to keep going in the first place. He's used spirit boards before though, so you assume it's for some sort of closure. His sisters are still technically missing, even though he told you he believes they’re dead.

“Think about it. If this is actually Beth, I mean, we can find out what happened that night.” Chris suggests.

“Beth… Oh Beth we want to apologize for what happened last year with Hannah and,” Ashley's voice starts breaking with sorrowful emotion, “if you can hear this, please please know that we are all so sorry.”

“You and Hannah. We're really sorry Beth, to both of you.” Chris adds on, taking accountability for something he had no control over and wasn't apart in.

You decide to stay silent. You didn't want to overstep any boundaries and you weren't involved with his sisters enough to have a say on anything. All you could do is observe and hope that anything doesn't trigger Josh in any way, but you think you're far past that point by now. His sisters were a triggering topic in general. The pointer starts to move again.

‘H - A - N - N - A - H K - I - L - L - E - D’

You let out an audible gasp, and Ashley follows suit. “I don't know if I can keep doing this.” Ashley admits.

“We have to.” Josh urges, not ready to give up just yet. You could tell this was important to him.

“Just- just stay calm. I think it's saying to us that someone killed Hannah..” Chris speculates.

Ashley asks how Hannah was killed. The tension in the room is thicker than ever and everyone seems to be on edge. The planchette spells out something about proof in the library before completely flying off board. You jump and let out a little yelp in response, covering your face to not get hit by it. Luckily, it flies past your face.

“You know what? This is bullshit. This isn't real.” Josh stands up from his chair with a distressed and shocked look on his face. He gives Chris and (mainly) Ashley an accusatory look. Probably because she was the only one out of all of them that was in on the prank last year. You stand up at the same time as him, ready to go after him if need be, but he doesn't pay too much mind to this, still freaked out by the current events. Hell, you don't even know if Chris and Ashley were joking. But from the looks of it, they wouldn't joke about something so serious. Especially such a touchy subject like his sisters. This had to be real.

“Josh, I don't know what's going on.” Ashley instantly claims and puts her hands up, voice shaky.

“Listen, I don't know– I don't know if you think messing with me is somehow going to help me deal with my grief or water but this is not cool.”

“Josh, no! You wanted to use the spirit board–” Ashley denies and tries to explain, but he clearly isn't having any of it.

“Josh..” You try to interject but It doesn't make too much of a difference.

“Hey calm down, it's not Ash’s fault.” Chris tries to reason with him to no avail, he's already making his way out of the room.

“I don't need this right now! Okay?! You guys are full of it!” Josh shouts, clearly upset before stomping down the stairs to leave the room.

“Should we go after him??” Ashley turns to ask you and Chris with a worried look.

“Don't worry about it, I got him.” You answered, gaining a nod from Chris and Ashley.

You leave down the same stairs Josh did, hoping to find him and somehow help. If he doesn't want help, you'll give him his space. You can hear Chris and Ashley’s discussion of the events that just took place growing further and further away as you look for Josh. You just hope you can make a difference.

[a/n]: next chapter is gonna be supper juicy and smutty so get ready 👌🏽

- 🦈&🦇

[torasplanet]

❝𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙎 𝙈𝙀 𝙇𝙄𝙆𝙀 𝙃𝙀 𝙃𝘼𝙏𝙀𝙎 𝙈𝙔 𝙂𝙐𝙏𝙎.ᐟ❞

EREMIN + GN. READER, MIKAYUMI + F. READER, KAZUFUYU + AFAB. READER, S. KAWARAGI & H. SANZU + F. READER & SHIGADABI + M. READER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; two is better than one but no one says how rough it gets!

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ; smut, threesomes, poly relationships implied, degradation, praise, oral, p in v, backshots, mxm, gxg, yelena mentioned, consensual recording, slut-shaming, akashi sibs do it the best 😝, this is so muchhh, petnames (baby, pretty, pretty girl, slut, whore, baby boy, pretty boy, princess), himbo!kazu, everyone's a meanie:(, spit(eremin), mentioned gangbang (eremin), face riding (mikayumi), fingering(mikayumi), anal(kazufuyu), madochism(kazufuyu), mean!fuyu, spitroasting kinda? (kazufuyu, shigadabi), mentions of murder(shigadabi), arguing, rough sex, overstimulation, face-fucking(shigadabi), hairpulling, throat bulging(shigadabi), mentioned punishments(shigadabi) unedited bc these r late night thoughts, I got lazy at the end :p, skin color not mentioned

EREN YEAGER + ARMIN ARLERT

Sobs escaped your throat as fits of laughter filled your ears humiliating you even further than you already were. Your nose was buried in Eren's brown pubes as you took him down your throat while also trying to jerk Armin off to the best of your ability so you didn't make him mad at you again.

"Baby don't forget about me. Giving all your attention to Eren..." Armin said grabbing onto your wrist that was slowing and jerking it faster. You tore your mouth away from Eren's cock and looked up at Armin with teary eyes as your other hand wrapped around Eren's cock "Didn't mean to! I'm sorry!" You whined apologetically earning a few more laughs from the men directed toward you.

They were so mean! They weren't going to fuck you until you made both of them cum at the same time and now they were laughing at you with a phone in your face teasing you for how slutty your face looked "Thought you'd be better at this. Heard you fucked Connie and Jean at the same time. Whore." Eren said with a chuckle as Armin grabbed the back of your head and shoved your mouth down on his cock making you gag.

You gazed up at the cell phone that was above you which Eren held, you wanted to whine about how they knew it wasn't true and it was just a rumor but Armin wouldn't let you take your mouth off his dick for even a second "They're pretty good I'd say. Maybe a little less gagging though baby." Armin said. His words were kind but they didn't sound like it.

Sounded more like he was being sarcastic and the way he was smirking down at you "Don't worry, we can fix that in no time. Teach 'em how to be a real whore." Eren said with a laugh with his freehand gripping at your jaw and tearing your mouth away from Armin's cock allowing you to catch a breath.

Armin verbally complained about this but watched to see what Eren was going to do. Eren tapped the side of your jaw as you breathed heavily, your chest moving up and down trying to catch your first breath in a while.

Your lips parted and your mouth opened wide already knowing what he wanted from his tapping "Wow, practically already a trained slut." Armin said glancing at his friend, both your hands were at work trying to continue their pleasure and get them to cum.

Eren grinned as he spat onto your tongue watching as you swallowed it immediately with tears wetting your face as you continued to look up at the camera glancing from it and Eren's eyes "Just needs to be trained to take you." The brown-haired male said to his blonde friend with a smile on his face before glancing back down at you.

They were talking about you like you weren't even there and there was nothing you could do about it but sit there and listen. You just wanted them to fuck you so badly! You wanted to hurry up and make them cum.

"Tell the camera what you are." You couldn't tell which one of them said that from the tears blinding your vision only allowing you to see Armin's short brightly colored hair and Eren's long dark hair.

You sniffled sobbing and letting your head drop avoiding eye contact but Armin's hand flew to your head and gripped your hair pulling at it roughly and forcing your head back up "M' a slut..." You mumbled under your breath with your lips in a pout while you stared up at the camera.

Their laughter grew louder after the words left your lips making your face grow hot from shame. Who knows who they would send that video to if they even sent it to anyone at all.

They were thinkin' of sending it to Jean or maybe Connie, you were so big a of a slut that an extra two wouldn't be a problem for you at all. With how you were begging for cock earlier, you'd enjoy getting passed around by the whole friend group.

MIKASA ACKERMAN + YMIR

"Ugh...who's this?" Ymir muttered grabbing her phone that was discarded next to your naked boy on the sheets of the bed, you didn't care much for what she was saying.

It's not like you heard the text notification going off anyway. You were practically lost in your dreams from Mikasa's tongue going to work on your pussy while Ymir sat on your face "Oh it's Yelena." Mikasa looked up at the freckle-faced girl as she continued to lick and suck on your cunt and bundle of nerves.

She tore her mouth from your crotch just for a second "What she say?" Mikasa went right back down between your legs with her fingers gripping the fat of your thighs as you moaned into Ymir's cunt making a moan escape the long-haired woman's mouth.

"Fuck...I would tell you but pretty girl just ain't stoppin'." Mikasa's eyes flickered up at you as if you could see her, she reached one of her hands up and pinched your nipple making a sob leave your throat and your thighs closed tightly around Mikasa's head.

"Ya' ain't helping Ackerman," Ymir said with a groan looking down at the woman that was eating you out like there was no tomorrow.

You didn't even really know what was going on, you were lost in the valley of pleasure that Mikasa was the culprit and you were getting wetter by the moment just eating Ymir out because of how she was grinding on your face.

Your back arched slightly when Mikasa let out a groan of annoyance showing she didn't care about what Ymir had to say and clearly she didn't care about how her subtle responses were affecting you "You think Yelena would fuck her?" Ymir asked the other woman curiously throwing her phone back on the bed not bothering to respond to the text.

Mikasa moved away from your cunt and threw her hair out of her face "Why does it matter? Did she ask if she could?" She replaced her tongue with two of her fingers thrusting them in and out of you at a rapid speed but that's not want you wanted.

You wanted her mouth, not her fingers.

"No, just wanted to know what you'd think."

"She would but she can't. She's mine."

Ymir chuckled at Mikasa's words as she groped her tit moaning at the touch, they often did this. Having a normal conversation while in the middle of torturing you. They could at least finish you off before they begin talking...

You let out a whine gently kicking your feet attempting to get the attention of the two girls and you did "We're talking, don't be rude." Mikasa said delivering a slap to your tit and making you whine more "Fuck, you really gotta stop doing that. You know how whiny she is." Ymir groaned arching her back and pressing her hands down on your stomach to stretch her back.

Mikasa merely hummed in response looking down at how you sucked her fingers in "Did Yelena ask if she could fuck her?" Mikasa asked ignoring everything that was going on, her thrusts got rougher and faster showing she was getting agitated at the thought of Yelena fucking you.

Mikasa was always so possessive of you. You were hers so of course she was. Well, you were hers and Ymir's but no one else could have you. No one else could make you melt on their fingers like she did with you. She didn't give a damn if she was there and it was some type of gangbang, no one else was going to fuck you especially not fucking Yelena.

A chuckle departed from Ymir's lips "You're too damn possessive. I already told you she didn't." Mikasa merely frowned at the girl's words before looking back down at you as you sobbed from the neglect and need.

Mikasa's hand caressed your thighs as she pulled her fingers out of you and placed them on the tip of her tongue with the taste of you flooding her tastebuds. "Just wanna make sure no one takes my baby."

KAZUTORA HANEMIYA + CHIFUYU MATSUNO

Kazutora's bi-colored hair stuck to his sweaty forehead as he whined loudly the sounds bouncing off the walls of the apartment "C'mon baby boy...! I know you're not tappin' out already." Chifuyu teased with his nails making indents on Kazutora's pale hips as his hips snapped into Kazutora's lower back repeatedly.

The male didn't even respond and just kept whining as Chifuyu's thrust forced his cock in and out of your soaking cunt that was just squeezing the life outta him. His hands were placed on your tits groping them as he tried to open his eyes but the pleasure he was receiving was too much for him! He couldn't take all this...

Between chifuyu pounding in him from behind and your cunt swallowing him in, he was starting to get dizzy not knowing what to do with himself "Tora, are you listening? Did 'fuyu already do you dumb?" You asked between moans bringing your hands up to cup your boyfriend's cheeks.

You squished them together forcing his lips into a soft pout as you grinned at the tears running down his face as he sniffled "I am, I am! Just so much! Can't take it no 'more..." Kazutora sobbed out as the black-haired male behind him just laughed at how dumb kazutora got from just a little cock.

"Pretty boy, I know you can. You act like a whore just to go down on me but now that you're in, you don't want it?" Kazutora shook his head fast with a whine.

"No, I do want it! I do!" You let out a laugh and his pathetic pleads going back and forth between what he wanted making no sense with his words swirling together forming nothing but blabbers.

Your hand ran down his cheek comfortingly leaning up and pressing a peck to his lips "So make me cum. You've made a mess in my pussy like four times and I only came once. I don't think that's fair." You said practically taunting him with how you were talking to him like he had no brain cells but by the way, Chifuyu wasn't slowing down at all, they were probably all fucked out of his head.

"Yeah pretty boy, don't be selfish." The Matsuno man teased whispering into Kazutora's ear with a smirk on his face as he looked down at you before his gaze traveled down to your messy cunt that was leaking Kazutora's cum as he weakly thrusting in and out of you seeing the ring of cum around the base of the golden-eyed male.

You guys were being so mean to him...it just wasn't fair. "I'm sorry, forgive me please." The pathetic male pleaded breathing heavily and leaning down putting his head on your chest as he peered up at you with wide and teary eyes. You almost felt bad for him.

He kissed your neck lightly with his wet lips biting lightly all on the flesh. Kazutora loved biting you so much.

It left marks from him that showed everyone you were his and it was his way of showing his love in the heat of the moment where his head was empty and nothing but pathetic whimpers were emptying from his mouth.

Chifuyu's grin widened at the new angle and he placed one of his hands on the middle of Kazutora's back before delivering a rough thrust "Ugh! Please!" The blonde and black-haired male whimpered out as Chifuyu's hand went to his hair pulling it and lifting the male up till his back pressed against Chifuyu's chest.

"Stop clinging to them. Just focus on makin' them cum, baby boy." Chifuyu insulted before biting down on Kazutora's neck making him let out more sobs and grope your boobs harder making you hiss.

You watched as Chifuyu and Kazutora locked lips in front of you harshly "Chifuyu stop being like that. He's makin' me sore." You complained as you placed your hands on top of Kazutora's as his lazy thrusts sped up getting rougher. "You're the one that wants to cum. I'm just trying to help you." The black-haired male said separating his lips from Kazutora's swollen ones which were spilling moans and pleads though he didn't know exactly what he was pleading for.

A frown appeared on your face with your brows creasing. You reached a hand up and pushed him harshly on his shoulder "How the fuck am I going to cum if he's practically ripping me apart." You cursed through your teeth and Chifuyu simply rolled his eyes at your words not caring much for them. He was always so mean when he was in charge.

"Please, y'know you love that shit. That's why you keep letting him bite you." Chifuyu said pulling harsher at Kazutora's hair who wasn't listening to anything you two said "Mhm! So close!" The Hanemiya man shouted as you glared up at the man that was busy practically destroying Kazutora's ass.

Like he had much room to talk. All the times he's had nail marks on his back and none of you could tell if it was from you or kazutora. He was just as much of a pain slut as you were.

All three of you were sluts if we're being honest.

SENJU KAWARAGI + HARUCHIYO SANZU

"Ow!" Senju shouted slapping the back of your hands repeatedly as you gripped her legs harshly trying to hold back from biting down as your head was in between her skinny and pale thighs.

You didn't want to hurt her. You wanted the opposite!

But it's just so hard to contain yourself when Haruchiyo's busy fucking the life out of you behind you and he wasn't slowing down one bit. "Princess...your nails are hurting me," Senju complained as she looked down at you, her soft tone almost made tears brew in your eyes.

You took your mouth from her cunt and looked at her with pleading eyes still jerking back and forth from her brother's thrusts "I'm sorry sen'! Haru's being so rough..." You muttered apologetically not wanting Senju to be mad at you for hurting her. Senju was already so rough and mean during sex and when she was mad at you, she was even worse.

You don't know if you could handle her being mad at you and Haruchiyo being so rough with you. You'd probably wake up with purple hand marks on your hips from how hard he was grasping onto them and dark purple hickies littered all over your body mainly your tits from Senju's biting and sucking.

The pink-haired woman placed her hand on your head, you thought she was going to lean down and give you a kiss but she just shoved your head back down onto her pussy "Stop going so damn fast. You never think about anyone but yourself." You heard her tell Haruchiyo as you wasted no time getting back to work and eating her out.

Your tongue licking through her folds and sucking on her clit "It's not my fault she can't take it. Your 'princess' isn't a good slut." Haruchiyo replied harshly probably glaring at his sister. They didn't hate each other, they couldn't do that. They worked with each other but they argued a lot.

Especially when it came down to fucking you. Just before this, they were arguing about who was getting your mouth and what position they were going to bend your body in tonight.

"Yeah, she can't be if you're stopping her." You stopped your tongue movements and glanced up at your girlfriend wanting to hear what she and Haruchiyo were arguing about but her glare turned to you "Did I tell you to stop? Now you can't hold onto me." She said meanly squatting your hands away from her bare legs, now you had nothing to support you against the male's thrusts.

Now you have done it. You made her mad at you!

You continued to eat her out not wanting to piss her off more because you had already made the mistake of stopping when she didn't tell you to while she was arguing with Haruchiyo who was already pissing her off "This is your fault. You wanna be selfish and now she's acting like a dumb whore." Her hand on your head that was once just sitting there now grew rough with her fingers gripping your hair tightly giving harsh treatment to your scalp.

A whine escaped your lips making one leave Senju's lips and she threw her head back "Shut the fuck up, I'm almost there." Haruchiyo said rudely his thrusts speeding up and his hips constantly snapping into yours making your body jerk forward but because of the lack of support that Senju's thighs once gave you, there was no way for you to stop it.

You reached your trembling hand up in an attempt to grab the woman's hand but she snatched her hand away "I told you you're not touching me. What don't you understand?" She said pulling you up from between her legs and forcing your face close to hers.

You choked.

You didn't know what to say. Did she even want you to respond?

"I-I do...haru's just so..." "I don't care." Tears glossed over your irises at her cold tone and the way she looked at you as if she hated your mere existence.

You weren't exactly sure if the tears were from the pure bliss you felt in your stomach right now from the tip of Haruchiyo's cock hitting your cervix over and over restlessly "You're not allowed to touch me until I cum, you understand?" Senju said raising an eyebrow and tilting her head slightly awaiting an answer from you.

You opened your mouth to protest and spew out excuses on why she should go easy but when her gaze hardened, you closed it and just nodded silently.

Senju had you at her feet for almost everything and with just a single tap or look, she could have you sobbing and humping her leg while begging for forgiveness and it didn't matter if you didn't know what you did wrong. You just didn't want her to be mad at you.

You were her princess and you wanted it to stay like that. You couldn't live a day being Haruchiyo's because this threesome was enough for you.

Your pussy was gonna be so sore after this! You couldn't deal with that soreness every day...though it did feel good.

"Stop looking at me and do the only thing you're good at." You knew exactly what she meant and you dove right back in between her legs ignoring the moans that left your lips from Haruchiyo's hits to your cervix and the overwhelming feeling in your tummy that was warranting your orgasm; Senju didn't care how many times you came, you were still gonna make her cum as many times as she wanted to.

A loud groan left the male from behind you "Don't you cum in her." Senju warned violently and Haruchiyo merely chuckled "Don't want me to give your baby a baby?" He said as you felt him slowly pulling out of you.

"Piss off." You felt warm ropes of cum spurt on your back practically coating the entire free area, you whimpered when he slapped your ass harshly. Your hands balling into fists just wanting something to grab onto.

You didn't mean to stop, it was an honest mistake that anyone could've made! You just wanted to grab onto something of your girlfriend's, her thighs, her tits, her hips, anything to support you and increase the body contact between you and her.

Ughhhh! Why was your girlfriend such a meanie?

TOMURA SHIGARAKI + DABI

This was torture.

You were sure they've actually tortured someone like murder and what not and you should be grateful that you're being a victim of this type and not but it's pretty hard to be grateful for anything when your cock is aching while pressing against your tummy rock fucking hard and you can't even do anything about it.

Dabi making a mess of your ass didn't help either because all that did was make you harder and want to cum more and maybe, just maybe, if he wasn't paying attention, you could sneak your hand down and jerk yourself off. That's if Tomura wasn't staring dead at you making sure you didn't try anything while you choked on his cock.

Your hands gripped the arm of the couch as you whined "Look, it's making a bulge in his throat." Tomura said raspily as he looked down at you with a taunting look already knowing how sore he was making your throat from his relentless fucking of your throat not letting you catch a breath.

Tears pricked in the corner of your eyes as you felt Dabi lean forward, his chest pressing against your back "Oh yeah it is. Guess you're too big for him." Dabi said with a chuckle bringing his finger up to poke at the bulge in your throat making you gag more.

"Uhhh fuck, man." Tomura groaned throwing his head back and taking his scarlet eyes away from you for what felt like forever, Dabi's turquoise eyes noticed how Tomura's pace with his hips quickened and his hold on your head tightened of course keeping his pinkies up.

Didn't wanna disintegrate his favorite toy now did he?

Dabi sat up straight once more with his thrusts returning back to normal as they had slowed so he could observe the sight of Tomura's cock poking out through your throat. You weren't even able to concentrate on what was really going on from how badly you needed to touch yourself and how you were trying to keep up with both of them at the same time.

It was practically impossible so why try on that part.

Seeing as though, Tomura was too busy fucking your throat like it was a fleshlight and his head thrown back with his eyes darted toward the ceiling and Dabi probably couldn't see anything that was going on, you found the perfect opportunity to relive yourself.

You took one of your hands off the arm of the couch careful not to fall over the edge from the individual rhythms both of them had that hardly matched up with the other. You snuck your hand down to your cock and just gently run your thumb over the leaking tip making a whine leave your lips sending vibrations on the blue-haired male's cock.

He still hadn't looked at you and if you kept moaning like the whore you were, then he never would "Such a good whore. My pretty boy." Tomura muttered through his moans your nose meeting his bush of black pubes over and over as you continued to choke on him which he cared very little for.

"He was mine before he was yours. I found him first." Dabi muttered from behind you and you mentally cursed him for this because that made Tomura look down. Not at you but at the man behind you but you still took your hand away in fear of being caught.

A groan of annoyance echoed from the male in front of you "This again...I don't give a damn if you found him, I've fucked him more." Tomura said glaring at the male with the hold on your hair growing tighter making you squeeze your eyes shut.

You listened to them as they argued back and forth but you weren't really listening...you couldn't give a single fuck about whatever they were talking about and were only focused on if they were looking at you or not.

Dabi must've fucked out all of your brains and from the way you were moaning, he definitely had but still, you were being a fucking idiot considering trying your luck when they could easily spot you with you being sandwiched between their gazes directed toward each other.

They might as well blow your fucking brains out all on this floor because clearly there was no use for them since you weren't even considering using them.

You snaked your hand down carefully trying not to draw Tomura's attention as he frowned at Dabi continuing their argument as the dark-haired male let out sounds of carelessness. Your fingers wrapped around your cock before you slowly began to move your hand up and down driving pornographic moans from your lungs.

It was a nice relief. Your poor cock had been neglected all night by these stupid guys! Your tip was leaking so much pre-cum you thought you had already come just from Dabi's fucking and oh gosh were you sensitive!

You were so into your heavens of bliss and pleasure while you jerked yourself off edging closer to the tip of your orgasm that you didn't notice Dabi's thrusts slowing, you were too busy still sucking Tomura off and trying to get yourself off to even remember that he was there.

Your moans got louder and more frequent as your hand went faster getting you closer to tipping over the edge until someone grabbed your wrist stopping all of that movement.

Your eyes shot open and you looked up to see if it was Tomura who caught you and it wasn't. He was moaning, his eyes squeezed shut. With this information and your wrist suddenly getting warmer and warmer by the second, you knew that Dabi was the one who found you.

"Hey Tomu', look what I found," Dabi said with a smirk on his face as he snatched your hand away from your still aching cock and held it up, his thrusts stopping completely and so did Tomura's with his eyes snapping open and a sound of confusion following.

Your eyes glossed over with tears too afraid to look up at the blue-haired boy or the black-haired one so you just stared down at the plush of the couch "Baby boy here was tryna get off. Guess two cocks still ain't enough huh?" Dabi whispered in your ear hauntingly making you whimper slightly.

Making the decision to look up was the worst decision you've probably made in your entire life because Tomura looked like he wanted to end your life right there "You're a slut and you can't even follow simple instructions? More like a dumb himbo." Tomura insulted you practically spitting on you with how mean his tone was toward you.

You weren't a himbo. You could follow instructions just fine!

You just..didn't want to. You couldn't! You were just in so much pain and you wanted it so bad that you couldn't help yourself...like a slut.

"Sorry...I just needed it s'bad, didn't mean to." With a yank of your hair, you were pulled up to lie against Dabi's chest making your hard cock more visible to Tomura.

Dabi's lips pressed against the shell of your ear as you heard him let out a couple low chuckles "No, I think you did mean it. You know what happens when you don't listen and I think you like it, that's what you want isn't it?" The blue-eyed male asked and you just sat there whimpering in pain from the treatment of your scalp, Tomura flicked the tip of your cock with his finger and glared at you telling you to answer Dabi's question.

You didn't want a punishment...but it wouldn't hurt. You already knew what they were going to do and at the moment it's what you wanted. They were going to make you cum over and over again until they got tired and it was exhausting but after being neglected for so long, that was a dream for you.

"Yes!" With that Dabi laughed loudly and let you drop back down to the couch, your head landing on the arm of the plush furniture.

"Don't worry, we'll give you exactly what you want."

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

[gor3-hound]

can't speak

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, age gap relationship, oral(m!receiving), headlock with thighs???, dacryphilia, leon is a little mean for, like, a second, daddy kink

a/n: sooo, this one is quite short. it's honestly just pure smut, but hope you like it :))

word count: 1.1k words

Leon's jaw clenches when you worm your way into his office for the hundredth time that day. It's like you've made it your personal goal to test his limits. Sometimes, he thinks it's his own fault. Dating a girl half his age was always going to come with its challenges…

He just hadn't expected you to be such a brat.

“Leon.” You whine, tapping his shoulder as you stand behind his desk chair, leaning over him and dropping your chin on his shoulder, jutting your bottom lip out to try and get his attention. “I'm bored… you've been in here all day.”

“As I told you the last ten times you've come in here, I have to get this report out today.” He says simply, not even turning to look at you. He'd been sweet the first couple of times you came looking for him, and it just made you even more of a pain, thinking you could get away with whatever you wanted. He wasn't making that mistake again.

You whine again, and his expression softens. He can't help it, he loves you so much. You might be annoying, but you were his girl. He wouldn't change that for the world.

“Be a good girl for me and let me finish up, yeah? Then I'm all yours.” He says after a moment, tilting his head to kiss your cheek before turning back to his computer.

Of course, that isn't good enough. It's never good enough. You always made sure you got your way, and it's clear you weren't going to let up until Leon gave you some attention. He's trying his hardest to keep his cool, but you keep prodding at his side, whining like a damn dog and begging for him to blow off his work.

You won't shut up. He can't take it anymore. Before you can even react, he's pushing his chair away from the desk and pressing down on your shoulders, forcing you to your knees.

“Jesus Christ.” He murmurs, one hand fisting your hair roughly, the other fumbling with the button on his jeans, a crease forming between his brows due to his frustration.

“Don't you think I have enough to deal with without you acting like this? Huh?” He asks, irritation creeping in his tone. “Spend every fuckin’ second of my free time with you, and it's still not enough?”

“Daddy, I’m sorry.” You say gently, big puppy dog eyes peering up at him, your lashes fluttering so prettily. Almost manages to get him to go easy on you, but it's too late for that now.

“No. You're not, are you?” He grunts, finally managing to free his aching cock, forcing you down onto it, not missing the way your eyes light up as you suck eagerly on it, making him groan.

“Always fuckin’ whining when you don't have a dick in you. Such a slut.” He says through gritted teeth, using his hand in your hair to guide you, making you take him deeper into your mouth. “And I'm always too fuckin’ sweet on you, let you get whatever you want. It doesn't work like that, princess.”

His eyes are half lidded as he looks down at you, moaning softly as his hips neck up, forcing him further into your mouth, tip breaching your throat. Your eyes are already watering, making the corner of his mouth twitch up into a lazy smile.

“Mmh… there's a good girl.” He coos, making you bob your head up and down on his length a few times before pushing you down as far as your throat can handle, grin stretching across his face. He crosses his legs behind your head, trapping you there with his cock down your throat.

“Shame you had to be so bratty. I hate being so rough with you, baby.” He hums, watching you closely. His cock throats in your mouth as he watches you choke and splutter around it. Your eyes are wide with panic, the breaths you're sucking in through your nose not filling your lungs up. Can't suck them all the way in with his fat cock blocking your airwaves.

His legs tighten around you head, just so he can watch the way you claw desperately at his thighs, scratching at the jeans he never bothered to fully take off. He loves seeing the way tears drip down your cheeks, wet trails staining your pretty face.

“You look so cute when you cry, princess.” He says sweetly, his hand brushing through your hair gently as if he isn't forcing you to choke on his length. Your panties are already soaked, sticky with your arousal as Leon starts to thrust shallowly.

After a moment, he's loosening his legs, spreading them again and pulling you off of him. Tilts his head as you choke and splutter, drool dripping down your chin and throat, your face a complete mess.

He lets you catch your breath before he's thrusting into your mouth a few more times until he feels the tension build in his stomach. He cums all over your pretty tongue without warning, pulling out for the final few spurts to coat your face. You swallow eagerly, moaning quietly at the taste.

“You think my other girl is cryin’ for me, too?” He asks with a grin, thumb rubbing the tears off your face before his gaze lowers, dragging along your thighs as you kneel between his legs.

You nod slowly, looking up at him through wet lashes that have clumped together slightly, your lips swollen and slick with spit and cum. “Yeah, daddy. Been needing you all day.”

“Shame I can't help you with that, sweetie. I told you, I have to get my report done today.” He clicks his tongue, shaking his head as he puts on a fake sympathetic look. He pats your head once, turning away from you and facing his work again, tucking his cock into his pants as he tries to bite back a smile.

He doesn't even spare you a glance, just shifts slightly in his seat, squinting as he reads the document on his computer, trying to remember where he left off, leaving you wet and needy, kneeling at the side of his chair.

After a few minutes, he speaks up, clearly pleased you're no longer disrupting his work. “If you keep that up, I'll make sure it's worth it when I've finished up here. Just be a good girl for me, alright, sweetheart?”

He ends up leaving his report half finished when you look up at him with those damn puppy dog eyes again, fucking you into the mattress until you're finally satisfied.

After all, he's always been weak when it comes to you.

[amourjins]

✦ LATE NIGHT WALK? — k.mj

summary. a late night walk with your best friend, minji! ..except, theres a twist.

pair. non-idol!bsf!minji x fem!reader

content ahead. fluff, (best) friends-to-lovers, wlw, GAYS!!!!, theyre both silly, just a small bit of texting!

notes. RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA who couldve guessed! surprise !! take this while you wait for tg…cause ive been procrastinating it a LOT…. (not proofread as we all know.. i proofread on a good day [which is never])

you lie awake in bed as the time read 12:37. you sighed, you didnt want to go to sleep, but you didnt have anything else to do, either.

until, that is, you felt your phone vibrate—a notification. you first shrugged it off, thinking it was some random app you didnt use anymore, but was way too lazy to delete it. after a few seconds, you decided to see what it was, and to your surprise, the notification was a text from your the one and only, kim minji! aka your best(est) friend (ever).

you could feel your tiredness just disappear all in the span of that minute.

you immediately got up from bed once you hearted the text, turning the lights on as you walked to your closet. you didnt want to keep minji waiting, so you figured you would just keep it casual with a shirt and jeans or something.

once you finally got ready, you did some finishing touches before grabbing your phone and bag, and dashing out of there excitedly. when you exited your apartment complex, there she was, in all her glory—minji!

“minji-ah!” you whisper-shouted as you swore she turned her head to you in the blink of an eye. she took her hands out of her pockets and waved at you, smiling brightly. you rushed over, embracing her in a hug as she froze, blushing a little.

“hi!—” she giggled before hugging you back tightly. you let go after a few seconds, making her pout. you didnt notice, though. you were too busy looking around the streets of seoul, wondering where you two should head first.

“mm, follow me!” you spoke, which caught the tall girl off guard, but she immediately followed after you, catching up as she walked beside you. the night sky always had you mesmerized.. but there something—someone else that had you even more mesmerized.

and it was minji.

maybe you started to develop feelings for her over these past few months with her…

you were pretty much certain that she didnt like you back. and as much as that hurt, you had to deal with it. being best friends with her is enough already, and youre grateful. but at the same time, what if she liked you back? it would.. yeah itd probably hurt to confess. but it was now or never, right? now just seemed like the perfect moment.

“crosswalk, idiot!” she reminded as she halted your movements, making you snap out of your thoughts. “oops!.. sorry,” you looked away in embarrassment as she scoffed jokingly.

you silently turned your head back to her. she was looking at the sky, and the scenery around. god, she was insanely pretty. prettier than the scenery around. prettier than anything around.

you tapped her shoulder to get her attention once you were able to cross as you two crossed the street together. your hands suddenly brushed against each other slightly, and even that made minji blush.. you were both equally down bad for each other!

once at the other side, minji’s fingers crawled on your palm before she interlocked her hand with yours, the action making you stunned, but, you werent complaining. who would?

“all the stores are closed.. aw,” minji sighed, pointing at the stores to your left as you two walked past them after a few seconds. “but you know, the convenience stores are still open.” you spoke, as she let out an agreeing “oohh..” followed by a nod. “lets head there then? hope you dont mind the walk though..” she smiled. “as long as im with you, i wouldnt mind at all!” you grinned.

after a short 12 minutes of walking and talking, you guys finally arrived at the convenience store while still holding hands. minji was the first to step in as you came in right after, greeting the staff that stood at the register.

“so, yn..i have, uh,, something to tell you.” minji explained as you two walked out of the convenience store. you and minji spent a decent amount of time in there, talking while having snacks. you two had a great time, and she even paid for everything.. and when you thought you couldnt crush on her more than before.

“oh,” you gulped, suddenly nervous and sweat was trickling down your forehead as you nodded, “i have.. something to tell to you.. as well?” you questioned—yourself. she took a deep breath before continuing, “lets say it at the same time?

“yeah. same time.. same time,” you breathed.

“on 1, okay?”

“3 - 2 - 1–”

“i like you, yn!”

“i like you!”

“wait, what?” you awkwardly giggled, raising an eyebrow at minji. she had her head turned, obviously away from you. her face was bright red…and so was yours.

“..y—youre for real?” minji muttered, not daring to make eye contact. she was looking everywhere but your direction. “what do you think, idiot?” you joked.

“so,, were dating now, right?”

“yeah.. yeah!”

“ill walk you home then?”

“thats absurd, kim minji! spend more time with your new girlfriend, will you?”

“g-girlfriend.. right! yes, okay.”

a/n : 😁😁 send in asks interact with me maybe! ill be answering asks later

[aishnico]

so ummm... is the slash angst ready? 😶‍🌫️

#𝙎𝙇𝘼𝙎𝙃: 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦

» summary: slash finally realizes that he caught feelings for his friend with benefits. does he really think so, though?

» word count: 2k

» warnings: nsfw content [implied smut, nudity], smoking, angst with no happy ending, that one gossip girl reference, grammar issues

» a/n: i’m truly sorry for posting this after so many months, actually i was writing two more different versions of the promised angst but eventually i didn’t like them so i wrote from the start again, also the college life is pretty tiring soo ❤️‍🩹

saul hudson didn’t have many serious relationships. almost all of them ended in an unpleasing way and quickly. 

he is a guitarist from a famous rock band. his and their popularity grow more each day. they tour around the country and the world. that means he spends most of his time on roads and rehearsals. 

so why would he be in an established relationship? groupies and one-night stands were enough for him.

that was what he believed in before spending one particular night with you about a week ago, a one-night stand turned into a friend with benefits later. this situation was still unusual to him.

“i think it’s bullshit,” you commented on his thoughts about relationships while trying to light your cigarette. “you can always find some time for someone, it’s just your ass is lazy, that’s all.”

“you talk like an expert, have you ever dated someone before?” he replied, lying on your messy bed which happened during your sexual activities. he tapped your exposed waist to grab your unsmoked cigarette. you handed it to him then got up to open your balcony door for fresh air. the room was filled with the smell of sex and smoke.

“no, but don’t think about only relationships. think about your friends and family. get it now?” 

he didn’t reply as his eyes wandered on your naked back while puffing smoke, thinking of a possible nth round with you.

you felt his hungry eyes on your body while pouring him a glass of water, and putting it on top of the nightstand next to him. he muttered a “thanks”

“aren’t you tired? you have a rehearsal tomorrow. you can’t be late. i don’t wanna hear any more complaints from your annoying carrot friend.”

“pfft!” he started to laugh as water spilled from his mouth. you just huffed in annoyance as you watched your bed getting dirtier. “what i am going to do with you..?”

you decided to take a shower so you left him alone in your room. just when you turned the warm water on, you heard heavy sounds coming from outside.

you wrapped your body with a towel then rushed to the window to check what was going on. he was already standing in front of it, sighing loudly as he puffed his almost-finished cigarette.

the rain…

“why are you not closing the doors, do you want my place to be soaked?!” you frowned as closed the door of the balcony immediately.

“‘m sorry, it’s just outside looks fascinating. the dark sky, yellow street dim lights, the rain…”

a soft sigh left your mouth, and then a comfortable silence filled the room while you two were admiring the usual, crowded l.a. view. he coughed then walked to another cross of the room, looking for something. 

“what are you looking for?”

he didn’t answer as he put his jeans back on, then his belt. you walked next to him with big steps.

“you’re kidding, right? you can’t just leave the house with your sweaty shirt and leather jacket.”

“i’ll get in a cab,” he avoided eye contact while wearing his wrinkled shirt. he pushed you to the side quickly, heading to the door.

“you’ll get sick, saul. you can just stay until the rain eases or stops.”

“why do you care though?” he managed to catch your guard off. you coughed, getting in front of him to face him.

“because we’re friends, and i wouldn’t be happy if one of my friends got sick. c’mon, let’s take a shower together. maybe the rain will stop at that time.” you gently grabbed his hand, then guided him to your bathroom. he couldn’t protest, not when he was taken aback by your words.

friends…

is it a true word to describe your relationship?

could he still continue to call you a friend when you try to be good and sweet for him so he could receive the pleasure he deserves after a tiring day?

could he still continue to call you a friend when you give him the most adorable eyes and smiles both in sex and other times, when you try to be intimate with him as much as you can, when you almost shower him with all of your love, making him feel wanted for a good reason and safe?

he wasn’t used to it, he might fucked some of his girl friends a couple of times -maybe when they were drunk- but it was different with you. it wasn’t just sex,

it was an urge to build a new deep, lasting bond with the right person he has come to love.

he was ready to burn all the old pages so he could create new ones with you and fill them with new memories that deserved to be remembered even in an old age.

however, something was stopping him.

and he knew why.

“you’re a fucking pussy, that’s why.” his bandmate, izzy, muttered between a cigarette on his lips. “you’re just afraid to break up with her afterwards just like you did with other girls before.”

“i don’t know, man, i really want to try this but i don’t want her to feel alone or neglected. i don’t want to screw up things like before.” he buried his face in his hands. his dark, curly hair tickling some parts of his face.

“then call her often, write her letters i don’t know, man! just try to do something beyond yourself for once!” izzy was already done with his shit so he put out his cigarette and then left the recording room, leaving his friend behind with complicated thoughts. 

the next day he was going to ask you out.

he thought there was no point in waiting more. he’s not the most outspoken man but for once he was confident enough to spill everything. hell, he even bought a bouquet of roses for you, nothing could stop him except-

“i have a date today, let’s meet at my place tonight as usual.” was what you said before you left him standing there speechless, the bouquet falling from his hands slowly -glad that you didn’t pay attention enough to see what he bought for you just minutes ago-

where did he go wrong? was he too late? god, he wished he wasn’t too late and your date went awful. unfortunately-

“i don’t want to have sex with you anymore, saul.” you cleared your throat while puffing the smoke from your lips. suddenly, your sweaty naked body felt cold to him.

“why?” he knew the answer, yet he was asking anyway.

you tried to shift from your space but his big arms held you firmly there, even pulling to himself a little bit. “my date went well today so i'm seeing someone now. it won’t be good to continue our… sexual activities, yes.”

he didn’t answer anything, he just held you in his arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck. his curly messy hair tickling you a little bit. 

“it was our last time together. we can either continue to be friends or stop talking.”

“what would you prefer, though?” he asked, voice coming out in a low tone, almost like a whisper.

“i would love to still be friends with you. you’re fun and silly, i like that in you.”

he turned your body sideways so he could face you. his mouth hanging open, calloused fingers tracing on your cheek. the risky words are leaving his mouth finally. 

“can you still see me as a normal friend, even after our most intense moments together? can you still see me as a normal friend when i made you come countless times like no one before? can you still see me as a normal friend when our hands were intertwined while kissing like there was no tomorrow? can you-“

“please shut up?” you suddenly managed to free yourself from him. then got up on your legs, looking at him annoyed.

“i see, you have no intention to move on. well, so let it be. we’re not fucking or friends anymore.” just when you decided to go to the bathroom, he caught your right hand with a quick move, maybe a little bit harshly. he then slowly made you sit on the bed again, releasing your hand. 

“all of this time, i was running from the thing i’ve never managed to experience fully. i was just making excuses to not try to bond with others romantically, but you changed my whole world upside down. i don’t want to let you go, not when i really want, no, need you by my side. let’s start everything from the start, just you and me-“

“no! listen to me, you’re just confused and lying to yourself!” you shouted and interrupted him. “you, you just want everything to be under your hand and reach them whenever you want, that’s all! i can’t be your side piece forever, i don’t want to…”

“me neither! that’s what i’m saying now!” your aggression was passed to him now. “you’re not my side piece and i don’t want you to think like that. you mean much more to me.”

your eyes got filled, still not looking at his breathless face. words coming out of you like a mutter as you covered your puffy eyes with your right hand. “we can’t be together. nobody can be together with a rockstar, not forever. they always end in the most tragic way possible. i don’t want to be hurt by you, nor you hurt by me. i don’t want alcohol, drugs, and girls to get between us. answer me, can you give up on all of them?” 

“yes, i can give up on girls. i don’t want any other girl besides you in my life. you’re all i want and need.”

“what about alcohol and drugs?”

could he really give up on them? he spent too many years with them, so could he just throw them away from his life? he tried to go to rehab a couple of times already, and none of them helped. 

“i-i don’t know,” he was trembling. “but i can surely say that i’m ready to give up on them. it’s gonna be so damn difficult but for you, it worth it.”

you didn’t reply anything to him, not sure what to say. the silence was getting more uncomfortable so he continued.

“i know the distance is gonna be a major problem. i’ll be away often and i can’t spend time with you too much. maybe i can’t be with you even when you need me. but i swear, i’ll call you and write you the sappiest shit you’ve ever read as much as i can.”

he grabbed your hands, leaning his head so he could meet with your gaze. it was pointless to avoid him so you turned your head to him. he started to caress them gently. you inhaled deeply, finally opening your mouth again.

“three words. eight letters. say it and i’m yours.”

“i, i…”

why the words he wanted to say desperately aren’t leaving his mouth? just two more words, what’s stopping him? he is so damn sure of his feelings about you, he has been thinking about it for a while. then what was it?!

then he realized that he was doing it again, lying to himself. to you and himself. 

he can’t give up on girls, he is so damn horny that he can’t keep his hands to himself even when he’s away. he’ll cheat on you. 

he can’t give up on alcohol and drugs. these two have become a part of his life. he’ll go to countless rehabs and still run to them with open arms.

he won’t call you nor write letters to you. his mind will be on something else, maybe girls, maybe alcohol, maybe drugs… you won’t be in his mind when he’s at rehearsals or on tours. 

and finally, he doesn’t love you.

like you said a couple of minutes ago, he just wants everything to be under his hand and reach them whenever he wants.

“thank you,” you let your warm tears fall from your eyes. “that’s all i needed to hear.” before he could reply, you already made your way to the bathroom, shutting the door loudly and leaving him there all alone. 

[raffe156]

HEYYY!!!

I WILL LITERALLY BEG FOR THIS🙏

A Brat!Reader, Gentle Dom!Price, Hard dom! Ghost or König

I BEEN ALL WEEK THINKING ABT IT

Im sorry this took sooooo long!!

It’s a quickie but I hope you like it ☺️

Paring: Price x fReader x Ghost

Warnings :NSFW MDNI,female Brat reader, Hard Dom Ghost, Soft Dom Price I’ve not got them troupes down to a T yet but you get the idea💖

✨⛺️ Camp out Drabble coming soon!⛺️✨

“Told you not to wind him up today didn’t I?” Price cupped your face in his hand. He was gentle, Ghost on the other hand was brutal, he wasn’t in the mood for your attitude hadn’t been all day that’s why you were now bent over the small table in the cramped gear room, loose bullets rolling off as Ghost thrust deep into you over and over. He looped his huge hand under the shoulder strap of your tact vest to bounce you back into his thrust. The sound of his flesh slapping against yours echoed through the room.

Ghost hunched over you, his mass pushing you down onto the table still thrusting relentlessly into you. You were positive you heard the table creak under the pressure.

“Not got much to say now have you eh? All day you’ve been baiting me…your snarky little comments and cocky attitude got you where you are right now…next time you mouth off I might just fuck you right infront of the entire base…like the little shit that you are” He was right next to your ear his breath hot on your neck and face.

You couldn’t help the smirk, you knew you had annoyed him today, pushed your luck too far. Price clocked you smirking.

“An you were doing so well…” he chuckled, this caught Ghost’s attention.

“What you fucking smirking at?” He growled as he snapped you back upright by your vest, with the height difference and the new angle he knew his cock would be bulging inside you, pushing your wall. He was already fully buried inside you, but he liked to see you squirm.

“FUCK!” You gasped trying to perch your knee up on the table to lift yourself up.

“Not smirking now…are you?” Ghost was taunting you but this new angle had caused your to constrict around him and with each heavy thrust he was getting closer. You could feel him in the pit of your stomach.

“Such a…fucking little slut for your CO’s…aren’t yah? He was gritting his teeth as he slammed home into you. Your tact vest still firmly in his grasp. He was almost holding you up by it. He pushed you back down onto the table, his hips slamming into you frantically you couldn’t keep up, you broke , your whines drowned out by his guttural groans, you felt him inside you now slow, warm, lazy. All the frustration leaving his body his muscles relaxing his jaw unclenched.

Price had made his way around the table to you, he had to pat Ghost on the shoulder to get him up off you. As he did so you felt him slide out of you slowly.

“Good lad…” Price smiled as Ghost backed away from you not before he took a look at his handy work, the backs of your legs were red from the friction burn from his jeans, even little teeth marks from were his zipper had pressed into your skin. He was almost proud of himself.

“Easy does it,” Price helped you up, making sure your feet were grounded. He turned you round to face him.

“You still with us kid?” He chuckled, you could feel your eyes rolling, lids heavy, head wanting to lull back. Ghost always fucked you silly, it was like his signature move. Prick.

“Yeh, I’m still with you Sir…” you smiled at Price showing him you could stand on your own, just. Ghost scoffed. Elton johns ‘I’m still standing’ played in your head as your smirked again at your Lieutenant. Price nodded, a little smirk of his own hidden under his tash. Your attitude always amused him. Price lifted you onto the table an positioned himself between your legs.

He cupped your jaw, commanding your full attention, which you almost always gave.

“You gonna be a good girl for me this time love?” His eyes were soft but the blue of them told you not to mess him about. You nodded. He smiled.

You both watched as he pulled his dick out of his pants it was rock hard, already dripping from the top, he swiped the head of it across your centre, lightly tapping it on your opening. He was teasing you. You edged your hips forward, it almost slipped in. He pulled back.

“Ahh, you said you were going to be a good girl…don’t be so impatient or I will make you wait like I did last time…” he grinned.

You eased up, leaning back on your hands, legs spread wider.

“Sorry, Captain…” your clearly insincere apology made his nostrils flare. God you could play him. He smirked and with no warning and one stroke he was in, even after Ghost it was still a tight fit, both men were bigger than average but Price was wider, he buried inside you differently. You wanted to throw yourself backwards onto the table, open yourself up to him, but Price pulled you in tight to him, throwing you arms around his neck. His grip firmly on your backside almost lifting you off the table. His thrusts rough and slow. The coil inside your belly wound itself tighter and tighter with each thrust.

You wrapped your legs around him tight, crossing your ankles.

“Fuck…that’s it…” Price grunted.

His mouth found yours open an wet. Your tongues packed together. His paced picked up, his hips slamming into you. And for the second time you broke open, panting your Captains name as you buried your face into his neck.

“Good…girl..fuck…” you felt his hips stuttered as he came inside you.

Price held you to him a little bit longer only easing up once your heart had slowed. You were still tucked under his chin.

“You ok?…” Ghost stood to the side of Price he brushed your hair out of your face, you clocked the small towel in his other hand. It was only after sex that he was gentle, you didn’t mind. In the afterglow you both behaved.

“Come to clean up your mess Lt?” Your grinned. Ghost growled, he knew it wouldn’t last long. It never did.

Price chuckled.

“What we gonna do with you eh?”

[avonnimimi]

❀·°∗✧🌸✧∗°·❀

Plugged

The Series. Part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

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a/n: PART TWO IS HERE BITCHESSSSS. @hcneymooners @wannabe-fic-reader im so nervous about this lmao. I hope you all enjoy :) . Please remember, some things will be written in my native english dialect, if you don’t understand, comment and I will translate. MEN AND MINROS DNI

content: drug dealer! Vi x Black fem reader, weed, intox, cursing, toxic relationships, gang violence, guns, vi being fine asf, ANGST (kinda). lmk if i missed anything <3

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Donte didn't drag his sorry ass back home until the sky was starting to lighten, that weak-ass sunrise painting the shitty apartment in a pathetic, pale glow. You woke up on the couch, stiff and sore, to the feeling of his clammy hand creeping up your thigh. You shoved him off hard enough to send him tumbling onto the floor.

"Where the fuck were you? I had to hitch a ride home with your friend," you spat, the taste of stale weed and resentment thick in your mouth. He looked at you with that lazy, half-lidded gaze that used to make your stomach flip, now just made you want to puke. He licked his lips, a slow, deliberate movement that sent a shiver of disgust down your spine.

"You fine when you mad, mama," he slurred, his voice raspy with sleep and something else, something that smelled faintly of cheap perfume.

You rolled your eyes so hard you thought they might get stuck. "That's how bitches like me get raped and killed," you growled, the words sharp and bitter.

He let out a dramatic sigh, mumbling something about you talking too much, about how you were always starting shit. You ignored him, the anger a cold knot in your gut. "I'm going out with the girls," you announced, already planning your escape from this suffocating apartment, from him.

You took a scalding hot shower, scrubbing his touch off your skin, then dressed in your favorite ripped jeans and a tight crop top, the one that always made him look twice. You spent an hour meticulously applying your makeup, each stroke of eyeliner a tiny act of defiance. You even finished that damn marketing assignment, the one you'd been putting off for weeks, just to prove to yourself, and maybe to him, that you weren't some useless, dependent thing. Then you called Shay.

"Hey, baby mama, wanna go out today?" you chirped, forcing a lightness you didn't feel.

"Bitch, don't wish no kids on me! I rebuke that shit in the name of Jesus! Girl, bye," Shay's voice boomed through the phone, her laughter infectious. You couldn't help but giggle, the tension easing just a little.

"I'm trying to be an auntie!" you whined playfully.

Shay promised to be there in 20 minutes. Five minutes later, her car horn blared outside, the sound a welcome interruption to the suffocating silence of the apartment. You didn't even glance at Donte as you walked out the door.

The second you were in Shay's car, the gossip floodgates opened. "Girl, you heard Violet's outta jail?"

You rolled your eyes, already tired of hearing about this Vi chick. "I've seen her. What's the big deal?"

Shay looked at you, a mixture of shock and amusement on her face. "I forgot you weren't here when she was running these streets," she explained, shaking her head. "Vi was the shit. Freshly 18, but she owned these ends. Connected to everyone, kept shit cordial. It wasn't just about the weed, girl."

You listened, intrigued despite yourself. "But then she got knocked. Don't know how, but she's been in jail ever since. Just got out last week."

A slow smile spread across your face. "So, would now be a good time to tell you she took me home and brought me weed at 3 AM?"

Shay slammed on the brakes, the car screeching to a halt in the middle of the street. "BITCH, WHAT?!" You burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the small car. "God, I'm so jealous. You don't know what I would give to be up in them drawls…." she trailed off, her voice laced with a longing that surprised you.

"Hello?! Why would you say that, omg?" you asked, feigning outrage.

Shay just laughed, shaking her head as she pulled back into traffic.

You ended up at a dingy arcade, the kind with sticky floors and flickering neon lights. You spent hours playing air hockey, racking up tickets, and winning handfuls of cheap candy. Your phone buzzed in your pocket.

It was Vi. You didn't even remember saving her number, but that weed… that had been some seriously potent shit.

"Hello?" you answered, your voice a little breathless from laughing.

"Precious, where you at?" The nickname sent a shiver down your spine. You bit your lip, liking it more than you should. You had a man, you reminded yourself.

"Stop calling me that," you said, trying to sound annoyed, but failing miserably. "I'm at the arcade. Why?"

"Come outside. Got somethin' for you," she said, her voice low and husky. Then she hung up. How the hell did she know where you were? You grabbed Shay's arm, pulling her towards the exit. "Girl, Vi just told me to come outside. Did you tell her I was here?"

Shay looked genuinely confused. "Nah, babe, I ain't said shit. Haven't spoken to her."

You stepped out of the arcade, blinking against the bright afternoon sun. And there she was, leaning against her black Hellcat like she owned the damn place, a spliff dangling from her lips. Shay was practically drooling beside you. "God, she's so fine," she mumbled, her eyes wide.

You walked towards Vi, a nervous flutter in your stomach. "How'd you know I was here?" you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Vi leaned down, her eyes locking with yours. "I got eyes and ears everywhere, precious. Ain't nothin' I don't know."

"So, whatcha want? I was in the middle of a game," you said, trying to maintain a cool facade, but her closeness was making it hard to think straight.

She straightened up, pulling something out of the car. Three crisp hundred-dollar bills. She took your hand, her fingers brushing against yours, and placed the money in your palm.

You stared at her, speechless. "What's this for?"

She looked you up and down, her gaze lingering on your chipped nails. "Two of your acrylics are missing. Ain't gonna let precious walk around like that," she scoffed, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "I can tell when someone ain't getting taken care of." You glanced at Shay, who looked as stunned as you felt.

It was only then that Vi acknowledged Shay. "Aye, that my girl Shay?" She stepped away from you, the loss of her warmth surprisingly noticeable.

"Hey, Vi," Shay said, waving awkwardly.

"Hey, lil mama. Ain't seen you in a minute," Vi replied, her voice softer now. A pang of jealousy twisted in your gut. Vi seemed to notice, her eyes flicking back to yours for a brief moment.

"Yeah, you been in jail like a bum," Shay retorted with a nervous giggle.

Vi said she had other business to attend to, her eyes lingering on you for a beat longer than necessary. "Call me if you need anything, precious," she said, her voice low and husky. Then she got back in her car, the engine roaring to life before she sped away, leaving you standing there, the three hundred-dollar bills burning a hole in your pocket.

"Bitch, did THE Violet just give you three bills to get your nails done?!" Shay shrieked, breaking the spell. You just shook your head, still reeling from the encounter.

—

Shay dropped you back at your apartment around 5 PM. Donte was sprawled on the couch, glued to the TV, a controller clutched in his hand.

"Get dressed. We going to Tevonn's," he said without looking at you, his voice flat and emotionless.

"Tevonn? Ain't that your biggest opp?" you asked, a sense of unease settling over you.

"Nah, we cool now," he mumbled, his eyes still fixed on the screen. You nodded slowly, searching his face for any flicker of dishonesty. Something felt off.

You went to your room, a knot of anxiety tightening in your stomach. You changed into a little black dress, the one that always made you feel confident, and tucked the three hundred dollars into your purse.

—

Tevonn's place was packed, the air thick with the smell of weed and sweat. Music blasted through the speakers, the bass vibrating through the floor and up into your chest. You followed close behind Donte, trying to navigate the throng of unfamiliar faces. This didn't feel like a party. It felt like a trap.

Donte found a couch and sat, pulling you down onto his lap. You sat stiffly, acutely aware of the eyes on you, the weight of unspoken tension hanging heavy in the air. You scanned the room, your heart skipping a beat when you spotted Vi across the room, talking to a group of men. But her eyes… her eyes were on you, and for a moment, the chaos of the party faded away, leaving only the intensity of her gaze. You quickly looked away, your cheeks flushing, thanking God you were black.

Donte mumbled something about needing to "deal with some business" and pulled you towards the back of the house. You followed reluctantly, your unease growing with every step.

The back room was smaller, more dimly lit, and the air was thick with tension. Tevonn and his crew were there, their faces hard and unreadable. This didn't look like business. It looked like a setup. You grabbed Donte's hand, your voice barely above a whisper. "You sure about this?"

He brushed you off, his voice impatient. "Come on," he muttered, pulling you forward.

Tevonn stepped towards Donte, his eyes cold and calculating. You saw the glint of metal tucked into his waistband, and your heart pounded in your chest.

"Yeah, so to settle this shit, we want your girl," Tevonn said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. The words hit you like a physical blow, the air knocked out of your lungs.

"Excuse me, what?" you choked out, stumbling back. "Settle what shit?"

Donte grabbed your arm, yanking you towards Tevonn. "Just go. Gotta deal with this shit, then I'ma come back for you, mama," he said, his voice tight with annoyance.

"I'm not going anywhere, Donte! What the fuck?!" you yelled, struggling against his grip.

His patience finally snapped. His hand swung back, connecting with your cheek with a sickening thud. You stumbled back, tears stinging your eyes. He crouched down, his fingers digging into your arms. "Aye, just do what I'm sayin'! Gotta deal with this," he hissed, his voice laced with menace. He pulled you roughly towards Tevonn.

"There a problem out here?" The voice cut through the chaos like a knife. Vi.

Tevonn stiffened, and Donte let out a string of curses under his breath. Vi walked towards them, her movements fluid and effortless, her eyes fixed on you. She casually draped her arm over Tevonn's shoulder, pulling him close.

"What's going on out here, my boy?" she asked, her voice smooth and deceptively calm. Tevonn mumbled something about payment, about Donte sleeping with his girl, his words barely audible over the pounding of your heart. Vi held your gaze, a silent promise in her eyes.

With a swift, practiced movement, Vi lifted the gun from Tevonn's waistband, tossing it aside as if it were a child's toy. Then she drew her own weapon, the movement so smooth and seamless you barely registered it until the cold steel was pressed against Tevonn's temple.

She whispered something in his ear, her voice low and menacing. You watched as Tevonn nodded, his face pale and drawn, muttering apologies. Then she turned her attention to Donte, her eyes blazing with fury.

"Not gonna lie, bruh, you know how I feel about men hitting women," she said, her voice dangerously quiet. Donte froze, his bravado melting away like ice in the sun.

"Vi, we go way back. It ain't that serious," he pleaded, his voice trembling.

"I don't give a fuck," Vi growled, shoving Tevonn aside and stepping towards Donte. Even though Donte was taller, Vi radiated an aura of power that made him seem small and insignificant.

She pressed the gun against his forehead, her finger tightening on the trigger. Donte finally released you, his eyes wide with fear. You ran to Vi, and she caught you, her arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close.

"Don't ever touch her again, Donte. Don't make me have to teach you this lesson twice," she warned, her voice cold and hard.

She scooped you up as if you weighed nothing, carrying you through the crowded house, ignoring Donte's desperate pleas and empty threats. She carried you to her car, gently placing you in the passenger’s seat.

She closed the door, then walked around to the driver's side, sliding in and cupping your face in her hands, her thumbs gently stroking the bruise forming on your cheek. "Gonna kill him," she mumbled, her voice thick with rage.

You pulled away, the anger and fear churning in your stomach replaced by a strange mix of relief and… something else. "Just take me home," you whispered, your voice trembling.

—————————————————————————

this is my original post, please don’t repost, translate, or plagiarize my work ;)

©️avonnimimi 2024

[sanspuppet]

“Touch me” prompt. 18 - Yeosang scenario

W/T: handjob, face fucking, cum eating, praises, pet name: princess

just some alpha Yeosang in need of some touch lmao, no plot just smut u know me 🧍🏻‍♀️

requested by @tamera21 i hope you can enjoy mwah💕

not me writing this because i can’t sleep help it’s 3 in the morning

actually listening to this on loop while writing, so i recommend doing the same while reading :) it’s an italian song btw

divider by @_cafekitsune

The air felt dizzy outside, shots of water drops were hitting the window walls on another boring Sunday. You were laying on the couch, legs crossed as you scrolled through your instagram fyp. It was kinda rude to say that you weren’t paying any attention to your boyfriend for all day, you felt bored and lazy, sure thing the icky weather wasn’t helping. You heard footsteps taking their way towards you at some point, which you still didn’t pay attention to, just minding your own business as you were stalking your favorite celebrities with their last posts. Yeosang was looking at you with hooded eyes, he still isn’t surely the mean type, but oh fuck if he was annoyed by you.

“Uh-hum i’m sorry, bothering you?” Yeosang huffed, his hands on his waist, waiting for you to rise your gaze up to him. But the only thing he got from you was a quick: “Mmm?” eyes still locked on the phone screen.

“Fucking hell, look at me please.” he sighed, once he realized that it would take more than just that to gain your attention, Yeosang stepped towards you, enough for him to grab your chin, forcing you to finally lock eyes with him.

“Oh hi darling, what’s wrong?” you questioned him as nothing just happened, smiling at him despite he still looked annoyed. In fact, he raised one eyebrow, furrowing his nose as he spoke up:

“‘What’s wrong?’ you didn’t talk to me the entire morning, plus if it couldn’t be worse, i’m hard” the last word suddenly woke up your core, tensing your lower abdomen muscles when shivers ran down to reach the gap between you thighs.

“Are gonna act like a brat any longer, or you’ll finally be a good girl and take my needy cock, huh?” his fingertips were buried in your soft cheeks, his boner getting harder every second he passed by imagining your pretty face painted with his thick cum.

“U-uhm i-, i’ll help you.”

“Good, princess” Yeosang let go of your chin, moving backwards and pointing the floor. “On your knees, listen to me okay?” as it seemed like he was just petting you, you immediately did as he said, kneeling in front of him, your gaze still locked on his drop dead gorgeous face.

“Go ahead” he gave a quick nod, his eyes focusing on your phone abandoned on the couch, grimacing at it like it was the reason you weren’t paying attention to him the whole day. “Touch me” Your hands landed on the zip of jeans as soon as he mouthed, dragging his underwear down with his pants. Your mouth started drooling at the first second you saw his cock a few inches far from your lips, arousal hitting your lower core as your body was already convinced that it’d be a long afternoon. Your hands grabbed his dick, twisting them around his length as your lips were sucking on its stimulated tip. Eyes were observing every detail of Yeosang’s chest and abdomen when he breathed heavily to repress any moan. Though it became so fucking difficult once your throat took all the way up to his cock, your tongue messing with his balls, gaining from him breathing groans.

“Fuck, that feels amazing princess.” his fingers carded through your hair, moving it away from your forehead before pulling it back. “Oh god, keep doing that” You tried to breathe in with your nose, as your throat was stuffed full with Yeosang’s dick. Your mind was quickly going blank, moving your head automatically when every single coherent thought left your brain, it always took nothing for you to go cockdrunk. The situation up there was very similar, Yeosang was loosing his mind over the overwhelming pleasure of your touch, because fuck you surely knew how to worship properly a dick. He blinked hard, furrowing his eyebrows, feeling his orgasm on his way to approach him. “So good, princess. Helping me to get off, such a caring girlie” his words became pathetic while the gap between his body and the pure blissing pleasure got smaller, spasming slightly at every louder moan. “Acting so good now, is this what i should do every time you don’t pay attention to me? Just forcing you to suck my dick?” You pulled out, needy for air. One hand kept working on his length, while the other rubbed away the saliva exiting your mouth. “Fuck, look at me. I’m close princess, i am, s-shit…”

Yeosang’s breath was unstable once his orgasm hit his body, gulping hard the saliva to help focusing on something else apart from how amazingly you just worshipped his cock. You parted your lips once white ropes of cum started to shoot all over your face, attaching them on his cockhead to make sure to take every single drop. You looked up at him, opening your mouth to show him how full of his seed you were. At his surprise, he widened his eyes the same second you swallowed all of it, sticking your tongue out to prove your act. Yeosang chuckled, kneeling down to be face to face with you, he stamped a kiss on your overworked lips, after caressing your cheeks.

“You did so good for me princess, shall i take care of you as well?”

[nova2kss]

𝓫𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓱 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓼

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: on a beach trip you're "ex" bf gets upset watching you flirt with a worker on the ice cream bar, so he handled it.

𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: Eren x blackfem! reader

𝓬𝓾𝓶𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: jealous!Eren, eren being a little rough, chocking, hair pulling, some possessiveness, just a bit of spit play ( if you squint) cowgirl, backshots , collapsed back shots, lots of kissing , some dirty talk , petnames, cursing , lmk if i missed anything else

𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔞𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰: this is my first time writing smut so excuse me if its badddd, not proofread at all sorry im lazy asf, i recommend reading in dark mode , other characters are included but not important, MDNI! support the blog :)

SASHA was grabbing you're arm to drag you towards the ice cream bar that she had been begging you to take her to it since yall had got to the beach.

"y/n pleaseeeeee" she asked again, you looked up at her through youre sunglasses to see her pleading puppy eyes.

" Sasha why wont you go its right there" you responded to her

" well i-" she was about to speak again before eren interrupted her

"Exactly stop trynna take away my girl"

"aht aht aht im not your girl anymore" you snapped at him quicly shutting him down before hopping up and grabbing your wallet and phone.

all while eren watched you dust sand off youre thighs and run your hair through your goddes braids that were hanging down your back, he examined you and watched them stop right below your ass which was currently out in the cotton crochet bikini you wore.

he shook his head at youre pettiness because there was no way in hell you were still mad about that stupid ass argument

you and him had got into an argument 2 days before you all had left for this trip, and he has tried to get in contact with you multiple times before you had left but you just weren't gonna let up.

you didnt even ride in the car with him on the way here, when everyone had parked at jeans house, you had decided to ride with sasha, ymir, and mikasa. while eren rode with connie, jean, armin, and onyankapon. the others rode with reiner and historia.

Eren was already upset that he hasnt talked to his girl in 2 days, but to see her laughing and flirting with the man at the ice cream bar even when sasha had already gotten hers, that really tipped the cake for him.

Eren watched you closely so he watched how you playfully punched his arm, he saw how hard you were laughing and it honestly pained him to watch you exchange numbers with him and when he had decided he had enough.

he would let you finish and enjoy the rest of your trip before he told you about yourself.

everyone had decided to have a little kickback at jeans house and you just so happened to sit next to eren

he tapped your thighs with 2 fingers while you were watching sasha, ymir, connie, and armin go at it in sorry

he motioned you to look at your phone to see you had a text from him

meet me in the guest bedroom in like 3 minutes

you nodded and continued on watching the game as eren got up

you carefully got up and told mika you would be back

when you walked in the room he was sitting on the side of the bed

you shut and locked the door and asked " whatd you need" attitude as clear as day because you still didn't wanna talk to this nigga

he turned and laid back on the headboard with a sigh and one leg on the bed and the other off

he had his hair tied in his signature bun with a couple of hair strains out and he was rolling a blunt

you couldnt even lie he looked hella good like that especially with no shirt on, but you had to stand your ground

"hellooo you not gone answer???" you asked him

he looked up at you with a chuckle

"come hea"

you walked to his side and sat by his leg, he put his freshly rolled blunt on the night stand next to the lamp, he looked like he was already high from a previous blunt but you weren't gonna question it.

" are you gonna tell me what you wan-" you were cut off by a tattooed hand warping around your neck, it made your breath hitch as he pulled you closer to his face with your lips inches away from his.

" why do you insist on playing with me mama, hmm?"

he tightened his hand around your throat and pulled you on top so you were straddling him

" why do you wanna make me mad baby?'

all you could do was whimper against his lips

"just tell me whats wrong" he breathed against your lips while titling his head

" i-i just t-think mhm" you couldn't even speak properly because of how eagerly he was sucking or your neck

he brung his face back up to yours before speaking again

" you thought laughing in his face wouldn't make me mad hmm?" he said as he brought his hand from your neck down to your lower back where the other rested

and as you were beginning to speak he slide them down to the plump skin of your ass and started to massage it

you rested your hands on his shoulders attempting to catch your breath, he looked at with his low red eyes licking his lips patiently waiting for you to speak

"i-i didn't do it to make you mad, i did it because i told you we weren't together so i can mess with anyone i want and you can to-"

once again you were cut off but with a slap to your ass that made you whimper and jump, you felt how hard he was from under you and it made you throb

he took one of his hands and rested it into your scalp before tightly gripping a handful of your braids and ass.

"mhmmhmm" you whined as you threw your head back

" come on, ride it."

you got up and planted your 2 feet on the sides of the bed, you waited for him to pull his pants down as you looked down at him

" im not helping you ma" he chuckled " put that shit in yo self" he continued making you groan before pulling down his sweats

he hand on no undergarments which made it even more easy access

it didnt spring up because of how heavy and thick it was

you picked up his dick and heard him hiss

with your free hand you slid your bikini bottoms to the side and rubbed his tip up and down your soaked slit which made you both moan

you rubbed his tip on your aching bud and both of your faces contorted into pleasure.

" fuckkk its so wet ma" you moaned in returned while placing your other hand on the head board, you continued to tease him since you figured you were in control

he yanked your hair before making you look at him " put that shit in cmon"

you listened to him and aligned the tip of his dick perfectly with your hole

you slid down on him slowly while hissing out

" mhmmm fuckkk papa" you yelped out while putting your other hand on the head board

you moved up slowly hearing him groan out and throw his head back

while only moving up and down on the tip to tease him, he moved both of his hands towards your hips and slammed you down to his base

you yelled out from the pain and pleasure you received from the unexpected move

you continued to bounce on him

the sounds of your sticky slick clapping on his muscular thighs were heavenly not to mention the moans coming from the both of you

you were panting out like a dog

eren grabed your throat and kissed you so hungrily muffling your moans

he was hitting all the right spots and was barely doing anything

he started to thrust up into you making you yelp out

" right there mama?"

"mhm hmm" you shook your head not wanting him to stop

" come on baby use your words"

" s-shittt, i- im gonna cum baby" was all you could say, the claps got heavier and louder as you were chasing your own climax which made eren stop and flip you towards the end of the bed

and now he was on top and in control.

eren turned you around and brung your hips up making you arch your back

"mhmm shittt" he groaned as he slide back in from behind

you were gripping the sheets and screaming into the bed

he grabbed the end of your braids and lifted your head up before gripping your neck from behind a

" thats right baby take that shit, tell them how good i make you f-feel fucckk"

he started to hit your spot and you had to stop yourself from screaming

" O-ohh my fuckk babyyyy" you dragged out to him while falling forward a bit

you didnt want him to stop but shit

"s'to muchhh"

" right there baby, mhm are you gonna cum for me?"

" FUCKK YESSSS' you shouted as he dragged your head back up to his tattooed chest

he lifted your head up before tonguing you down

" open your mouth" he panted out before letting his spit trickle into your mouth, he didn't give you a chance to swallow before he was back tonguing you

you moaned in his mouth as your body to spas and your creamy white substance was coating his dick from base to tip

he let go of your chin and groaned into the crook of your neck while you were still riding out your high.

you purposely lost your arch and let eren fall on top of you from behind

he was still slowly thrusting into your sensitive hole making both of you moan

" im gonna cum mama" he groaned into your head while kissing the outside

he grabbed your hand while kissing down to your neck

"cum inside mee"

" shit im cummingg, ahh fuckk"

you let him ride out his high into you while moaning out

" howd it feel?" you asked him once he was done while laughing

because clearly someone was already halfway asleep

he had cleaned you both up and changed the sheets while you were in the guess bathroom

"come hea" he motioned for you to come lay with him

" you still not my girl?" he asked you in a sarcastic manner

"oh my- shut the hell up" you both laughed while getting comfortable in the bed

and drifting off to sleep

sooooo did you guys like it??

reblog and comment pleaseee

idk i think i might do a part 2 lol

request are always opennn

[hypegirl1]

Take it off (Seven x fem!reader)

AN:Some random girl from my school told me yesterday that she liked my Seven keychain,idk who she was but I loved that. I APOLOGISE IF THIS IS SO MESSY 😭 Summary:Your boyfriend Seven finds you using one of his shirts,which he loved a little too much

Warnings:Suggestive language

Word count: 619

"Where the fuck did all of my shirts go???"

That´s what you thought to yourself,you had just gotten out of the shower and you were going to put whatever shirt you found with some grey sweatpants,it was sunday,you had no plans for today besides staying at home with your boyfriend playing some videogames or watching a movie,it was one of those rainy lazy sundays where you didn´t felt like hanging out with your friends or even talking to them.

When you opened your closet you found everything,except for your shirts.Skirts,jeans,tops,sweaters,shorts,and even your favorite winter jacket,but no shirt in sight,and it´s not like you lacked shirts, you had A LOT of them,but of course,they were nowhere to be seen.

"Lemme recall some stuff...okay Yoosung called me yesterday saying that he needed help with laundry because he had too much,if I remember well,I took my shirts with him because they smelled weird,and we did laundry at his house,and- fuck,I forgot all my shirts at Yoosung´s house..."

That´s when realization hit you,you could just steal one from your boyfriend Seven! right?... He´s kinda possesive about his stuff,but when it comes to you,he doesn´t care,so why not? You opened his closet and searched for a plain shirt that he wouldn´t mind being taken.

"Lemme see...god why is his closet so messy? I´ll tell him to organize it tomorrow"

It was hard to search for a shirt with all the mess that was going on in that closet,how did he got dressed like that???

"Finally!This one´s perfect"

You removed the wet towel that you had been using for the past 10 minutes and put on the shirt with the sweatpants,it looked kinda big on you,but it was comfortable.

"I´ll have to call Yoosung now to ask him about the laundry"

20 minutes later...

"He told you what? Girl dump him right now,that´s the worst red flag I´ve seen on a guy"

You were on the phone with your bestfriend talking about some gossip that she had,you talked with Yoosung earlier and he said he would leave a spare key under his doormat so that you could pick up your laundry,because he had class tomorrow.

"I know right,what? Seven? I told him to go to the store like half an hour ago to go pick up some snacks for tonight,yeah maybe we´ll watch a movie,I don´t know why he´s being late but yeah-"

"Honeeeey I´m home!"

"That´s him,I´ll call you tomorrow,bye"

The sound of bags dropping on the floor and fast footsteps didnt even lasted 10 seconds before Seven jumped onto the couch with you.

"Well hello,where have you been?"

"To the store like you told me"

"And it took you 30 minutes?"

"I was trying to find your favorite chips because they ran out of them,but after searching for 10 minutes I found them"

"Thank you,that´s so sweet"

"Well,wanna- is that my shirt?"

"Huh?Oh yeah,sorry,mine are at Yoosung´s house"

"No no,it´s fine,it´s just that-fuck,it looks so good on you,but it would look better on the floor"

You were speechless,it´s been a few months since you started dating Seven,it´s not the first time he says something like this,but you haven´t got used to it yet

"Wha-"

He crawled on top of you,grabbing your wrists so you couldn´t go anywhere,you could feel your cheeks getting hoter and hoter every second

"You heard me,what do you think?"

Words couldn´t escape your mouth,your mind was already feeling dazy with all the thoughts that were coming into your mind about where this was going to lead later.

"I think you´re right"

But as he picked you up, the thought of how sore your legs were going to be tomorrow crossed your mind,however,at this point it didn´t even matter anymore.

[elliebarker]

one of the many. ( e williams )

category: modern!college/university!ellie x female!reader : angst, fluff

summary: after her devastating heartbreak with her first girlfriend in highschool, ellie swore off dating, everything she did was casual, non-committal. that was until you showed up. (basically logan and rory troupe but make it happy)

warnings: alcohol consumption, implied smut, “friends with benefits”, cheating(?), use of the word “baby”, a somewhat copy of rory and logan’s fight, fuck boy!ellie (LMAO I’M SORRY).

word count: 2.1k

it had been almost three years since ellie’s first, and only, breakup with her ex-girlfriend, cat. she was older now, more mature, i mean for god’s sake she was a junior in college she couldn’t still be hung up on some stupid girl from highschool. that is why she had resorted to this. one girl in today, another one tomorrow. no attachments. casual. she was hanging out in a cramped party at her friend's house, sipping something alcoholic, with one, two, girls on her arm, laughing and giggling and tracing their fingers up and down her fore-arm tattoo. she was, enjoying herself, she guessed. the party life wasn’t exactly dull, it was the crowd she was surrounded with, a bunch of drunken girls over-exaggerating their laugh so that she’ll go home with them. she wasn’t opposed to it, if fact she probably needed to let loose and celebrate the compilation of one of her tests, she just hadn’t found the right girl yet. that's when she spotted you. an absolutely gorgeous girl, trying to find your way through the crowd. and she immediately took the opportunity to…introduce… herself.

“hey girl,” ellie said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, her action causing your spaghetti strap to fall slightly lower on your shoulder. “i’m ellie, what’s your name?” she asked and you introduced yourself, pulling your strap back to a more comfortable position, and smiled up at her. fuck it ellie thought i’m just gonna go for it. “wanna get out of here?” she asked, earning a smirk and a cheeky ‘sure’ from you as she led you out of the party’s front door.

ellie woke up and stretched her fingers, sore from last night, to see your body draped in and out of the sheets of her bed, still resting. her heart fluttered a little but she chose to ignore it. she sighed, clearly, you didn’t know how this worked. but it was early, and she had never slept with you before, so she gave you cut slack, she’d find a way to get you up and out of her apartment later. a few minutes passed and your body started to feel the lack of ellie’s presence. you woke up in a dingy bedroom full of music posters and scattered clothes. one pile, of which, being yours. your legs were sore as you stood up and grabbed your clothes off the floor, with a little shame in realizing the reality of your situation. you eventually got up all of your belongings and went to find ellie.

“hey,” you greeted, voice hearse and sleepy, as you walked up behind ellie’s sitting figure in the living room. she was wearing new clothes, jeans and a shirt, layered with a flannel with her hair half up pulled into a lazy barely-ponytail. her eyes racked up your body, hair messy and outfit sagged from it being thrown off the night before. “so, um, do you want my number or? i’m sorry i haven’t really done any of this before…” you stuttered on your words.

“look,” she said getting up from the couch, “i like you,” she began, “i really do. it’s just i’m not really into all that relationship crap, you know? i don’t feel like i should be tied down to someone.” she explained, moving her hand to rub the back of her neck. 

“oh no i get that,” you lied, “i just, was hoping we can still…hang out.” you said, trying to come as casual as you could.

“oh no, definitely,” ellie said, smirking, as she looked you up and down. you kissed her on the check before you said goodbye. and that’s how it was. at least once a week you’d be over at her place, ‘hanging out’. it was nice. nice, until, “hey,” ellie said whilst scrolling through her phone, looking over at you gathering up your clothes, “down to go to a party?” she asked.

“sure!” you said, a smile rising to your face at the anticipation of spending time with ellie, outside the arrangement the two of you had. you went inside ellie’s bathroom, it was small and a little dingy, in order to fix up your hair and get ready to face the outside world. once you were both ready to leave, ellie locked the front door behind her and walked you to her car. it wasn’t until you were both buckled into her car and driving down to some girl’s house with her hand on your thigh that you realized you and ellie would be out together in public for the first time. i mean, sure, you’d see the other girls ellie was hooking up with but she decided to come to the party with you. you. ellie eventually pulled up to a house and slipped out of her car, with you not far behind. it was obvious with the loud music and yelling coming from the white brick house which one would be entering. you slipped through the front door with ellie by your side and went around to make conversation with the few people you knew here. you knew ellie wouldn’t want you clinging to her side the whole night. more than a few moments passed and pop music remixes blared through low-quality speakers all around the house. you did your best to socialize, and decided to look around and find ellie. luckily, she was in sight. on the other side of a heep of sweaty, dancing bodies. you were going to make your way over until an arm stopped you. the arm tan and delicate resting atop ellie’s knee whilst she sat atop the kitchen’s barstool. you felt a green-monster flash of despair, both anger and sadness. of course ellie wasn’t yours, but fuck, did your delusional-ass-self really think you meant something to her? something more than just a girl she fucks? acid rain fell from your eyes as you stormed your way out of the crowded jungle of drunken bodies. time had passed and you’d gone numb. you’d rationalized it. you and ellie weren’t exclusive, you knew that. so why did that girl fucking bother you so much? it wasn’t her fault, of course, she didn’t know. and that's the thing, know what? exactly, nothing. that’s what you were to ellie, nothing, disposable, replaceable. but your whole pissed-off attitude disappeared into a mear thought when she approached you, body lanky and oh so attractive.

“what’s with this whole ignoring me thing?” ellie laughed, leaning against the wall next to you, looking over your pouting frame. you didn’t want to start anything, god knows you didn’t, but the edging creepy feeling of jealousy washed over you.

“what was that?” you asked simply, not-answering her question with another.

“what was what?” she asked, seeming genuinely confused. you sighed, then began again, uttering the first answer to a question since the conversation first started.

“her…” you said, looking around the room for the girl ellie was with earlier, “that…girl…you were all flirty with.”

“oh,” ellie sounded surprised, “that’s dina,” ellie laughed, “another, friend, of mine.”

“friend?” you asked, as if you doubted her use of the word, “that’s what i am?” you asked, jestering to yourself, “a fucking friend?” you saw the gears turning in ellie’s head, the fight or flight kicking in. she composed herself without the slightest reaction that she was ever the least bit scared, to the untrained eye that is.

“yeah.” ellie’s voice grew impatient and angry, as if to say, ‘i don’t have time for your crap’, “that’s what we agreed upon.” ellie moved her hand from her hip to in front of her, “friends.” her stern voice and your overwhelming guilt and regret was building up and you felt tears starting to form in your eyes. you let out a, 

“y’know what? i- i can’t fucking do this,” before your voice could break and left the party, letting you walk yourself home. it wasn’t until you reached the welcoming doors of your bedroom that the tears that were welling in your eyes finally fell. and they fell fast. you sobbed into your pillow all night, so much so, when you woke up your pillow was still damp. you knew you couldn’t do it anymore. you slumped off your bed, and made sure to take care of yourself. you showered, did your skin care, put on something more comfortable. you opened your phone, scrolled to ellie’s contact and pressed ‘call’. there was only one ring until, 

“hello?” she called out your name.

“we need to talk, ellie.”

you walked through the mountains of fall leaves and cold air to reach her apartment. you planted a solid two knocks on her door and she immediately opened the door, you could tell she was nervous. her nails were picked at and her eyes darted everywhere around the room but you. the tension was thick, and you knew you had to settle, or rather end, it.

“ellie, i don’t think we should see each other anymore.” you bluntly stated.

“ugh, c'mon is this about that stupid shit last night? you're still hung up on that?” ellie questioned.

“look it's like you said, you can’t be couple-y with me and i get that it’s just i’m a ‘girlfriend’, ellie, i have ‘girlfriends’ not…friends.” you explained, used your hands to display a pair of air quotes when you pronounced the word friends. “i’m sick of…i’m sick of being one of the many, i can’t do it anymore, that’s it okay? i can’t be your friend anymore, i thought i could be different, but i can’t, i’m sorry.” you huffed out the big speech you’d crafted on your way to her apartment. after an erie second of silence, ellie spoke.

“don’t do that.”

“do what?”

“i get it,” ellie said, rubbing her hands together trying to settle her nerves and her voice at a calm level, “i get what your doing.” ellie accused you.

“i’m not doing anything,” you stated, plainly, confusion written all over your face, wondering where she was going with this.

“if that’s what you want, a…a girlfriend, then just come out and say it okay? don’t make me sit here and worry and feel like i fucked up, don’t make me pace around my apartment, don’t come here saying ‘i can’t see you anymore’ don’t fucking do that! i’ll be your girlfriend? alright? that’s what you're really saying huh?” ellie lectured you.

“that’s not what i’m saying, ellie.” you tried to explain, but she kept going on,

“no, no, but that’s what you mean, don’t you?” she sighed, putting her hands on your waist, “c’mon, i’ll do it”

“what?” you gasped.

“i said i’ll do it, okay?” ellie forcefully stated, “i’ll be your girlfriend, it’s either all or nothing baby.”

“you can’t be my girlfriend,” you pushed her back.

“who says i can’t? huh?” ellie’s hands slithered their way back onto your waist.

“um, you, last night!” you declared, recalling her aggravated tone from the night before.

“oh come on! last night was last night, forget about it, right now is right now and i want, scrap that i need you, don’t– don’t leave me sweet girl.” ellie pleaded, begged you. you placed a hand on your hip in an attempt to display fake confidence.

“you have a hundred girls on speed dial.” you scoffed, disbelieving of this ‘new’ ellie.

“who cares about them? they don’t matter to me.” 

“look,” you began, “i know you, i know your type, commitment is not your thing and that’s fine! non-commitment isn’t mine so it's better if we just go our separate ways.” you turned to leave. ellie’s hands, previously placed on your waist, went up to arm and turned you back around to look at her.

“just let me try,” ellie said, looking deeply genuine, “if i say i can do this, then i can do this.”

“ellie–” she interrupted you calling out her name, with your own.

“do you really want to stop seeing me?”

“no,” you stuttered, “but i can’t–”

“‘cause i don’t wanna stop seeing you.” ellie smiled at you.

“are you sure–?” she cut you off a third time, this time with her lips. waves crashed and goals scored in that moment. her lips, never so delicate until this point, landed on yours and connected each other. it was utterly and absolutely euphoric. her lips were soft, softer than other times you had kissed. and it was then you knew. it was then you both knew. you were the one. she didn’t want anyone else. only you. her girlfriend. and she was finally proud to call you that.