#heat and cold resistant materials

[cylexplastics]

Weathering challenges and solutions for ABS plastics

In the application field of plastic materials, ABS plastics (acrylonitrile-butadiene-styrene copolymer) are widely favored for their good processing performance, mechanical properties and surface gloss. However, with the diversification of application environments, the weathering challenges of ABS plastics have become increasingly prominent. This article will explore in depth the challenges faced…

[webism]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎SKIRT THEORY!

why the jjk men love it when you wear skirts.

fem!reader x gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, ino, higuruma, sukuna, shiu.

nsfw under cut, mdni

Gojo loves the easy access. He can trail his cold fingertips up your thighs any time he wants, beneath the fabric of your skirt and right to the hem of your panties—if you're wearing any, that is. It makes sneaking around a whole lot easier, being able to lift the back of your skirt up in an empty hallway or vacant bathroom and fuck you from behind without even undressing you. No matter where you are, if there's a relatively quiet place nearby he doesn't have to waste any time pulling down your bottoms to get to your sweet center.

Geto loves it when your skirt is just a little too short. When you have to adjust it as you walk because you know your panties are half showing already and those passing by as you walk arm-in-arm are breaking their necks for a second look. He loves having you on display, in skimpy little skirts that are barely there: because he knows despite the lingering eyes that only he gets to take them off you and taste what's underneath. He purposefully tugs your skirt up a little before leaving the house, by the way.

Nanami just loves how pretty they look on you... he thinks. It's purely coincidental that whenever you greet him in the morning wearing a skirt that he's bending you over the nearest surface to hike the fabric up and fuck you on his fingers. And it's purely coincidental that every time you wear a short skirt you're also wearing lingerie in his favourite colour underneath. And it's definitely a stray chance that you seem to always drop your things and force him to shift his body so that the world doesn't see just how wet you are at the thought of him taking you then and there.

Choso loves how your skirts looks when you're sitting on his cock. How the fabric bunches up and drapes over his lap as you rock on his length, how it hides your aching heat from his view, encourages him to use his imagination as you ride him stupid. He likes grabbing at your skirt, having to lift it up to watch himself disappear inside of you

Toji loves your constant lack of panties beneath them. It's as if every time you wear a skirt you've somehow forgotten the lacy materials exist. And he tests his theory often, flipping your skirt up at random to see what you've so innocently forgotten to wear underneath. And oh the sight is a tempting one, he's a strong man but barely strong enough to resist filling you with his cum and letting it leak down your thighs once he's finished with you.

Ino loves ducking his head under the fabric of your skirts to eat you out. He doesn't even have to undress you, just catch you off guard enough to dip under your skirt and pull your panties to the side. You can hardly push him away before your eyes are rolling back and he's latching onto your clit like your pleasure sustains him. You can see the gears turning in his head every time you're near him in a skirt. He will eat you out for hours before coming up to see natural light again.

Sukuna loves how none of the skirts you own are enough to cover the bite marks that litter your legs on the daily. The mean marks he leaves behind with his sharp teeth when he has your thighs on either side of his head and his nails digging into your skin. He loves the notion of marking you, of watching you make the choice to dress in such a way that you're exposing his claim on you to the world. It's possessive, it's primal, it's something he thinks is worthy of reward. No wonder he fucks you stupid every time you wear one.

Higuruma loves how you test him when you're in a skirt. He's a polished man with patience and professionalism, but you like to sit across from him and cross your legs in a way that gives im a look at the edge of your panties. More often than not they're his favourite ones, and he's taking you by the wrist to lead you somewhere secluded to cum inside of you. When he's succeeding in restraint, though, it's not rare for you to excuse yourself to the bathroom just to come back and slip your wadded up panties into his suit pocket. The poor man goes stupid knowing you're exposed beneath such pretty fabrics.

Shiu loves fucking you in them, plain and simple. There's something primal about being so enthusiastic about sex that you're neglecting undressing each other to jump straight to pleasure. When you're in a skirt all he has to do is bunch it up to your waist and pull his cock free to fuck you dumb. You can sit on his cock in his office and seem just like you're sat on his lap, when you and him both know he's balls-deep inside of you and about to plug his cum inside of you with his dick.

[amaranthinespirit]

blue collar or cowboy!simon riley who would fuck you in the bed of his truck

simon was always out working so hard all day, coming home with dirt caked on his clothes. you'd have to scold him when he would track mud through the house—that you had just cleaned from whenever he came in yesterday.

he'd grovel, pressing kisses to the bare skin of your shoulder, the well-worn, holed shirt you stole from him slipping off your frame. muttering promises between each press of his lips further up your neck, along your jaw.

who are you to resist?

and who is he to either?

your pants pooled at your ankles, shirt hiked up your back and drooping off one shoulder. your inner thighs are slick and glistening with arousal and saliva.

a rough hand pushes down on your back, further squishing your chest into the hard metal of his truck bed, another grasping firmly at the fat of your backside where simon's face is lapping at your dripping cunt.

soft mewls cry from your lips, hands reaching back to grasp as his head, fingers tangling through the short locks of dirty blond. he only grunts in response—sorry, luvie, he's in heaven.

your legs are trembling, knees threatening to buckle under you with three orgasms already coaxed out of you on his tongue alone, milking you of your sweet, slick nectar.

your quiet, strained cries do nothing, but aid the tightness in his dirtied jeans, his cock oozing arousal in his boxers, dampening the fabric beyond his zipper. every involuntary shift of his hips causes more friction and tension with the denim, sending a groan throughout your pussy.

his noises vibrate against your pussy, shocking your overstimulated, and oversensitive, clit. all you can do is cry out as he pushes himself deeper, closer. his tongue is merciless, selfish as he threatens to swallow you whole.

at this point, you're begging for relent, repeated pleas of his name falling from your lips as the familiar heat builds in your tummy, and you writhe under his hands. the cold metal turning warm under you as it digs into your skin.

everything becoming overstimulating as the world begins to spin, jaw going slack, saliva pooling in your mouth as it threatens to spill over your swollen lips.

tears are streaming down your flushed face, your hair is frizzy and eyes are practically rolling to the back of your head as yet another release washes over you, sending a shudder through your body.

simon finally pulls his face away from the heaven between your thighs, not without flattening his tongue over your cunt for a last taste.

the lower half of his face glistening, coated in your juices, he desperately licks his lips to savor it. as he stands up from his position, his hand on your back pushes you back down onto the bed of his truck.

"n't done, luvie, be'a gud girl 'nd stay still," he kneaded the flesh of your backside, groaning at the sight in front of him.

his hands meet your hips, pulling you back on his clothed erection. a small yelped wince escapes your lips at the friction against your sensitive cunt. your frayed nerves against the harsh material that soaks up your arousal and previous releases.

you whine as he rocks his hips slowly, grunting as he watches the material dampen so easily before he pulls away from your hips.

his movements are hasty, not wasting any more time as he barely undoes his belt and zipper, freeing his heavy cock from the constraints of his jeans.

he whines softly at the warmth of your puffy, swollen folds as he rubs his cockhead up and down your pussy before catching your slit.

he groans at the tightness that welcomes him, the slick, clamping, spongy walls that pulse around his dick almost milks him of every last drop of sperm that fills his heavy balls.

your voice is hoarse, almost gone by the time his cock is sheathed in you, his cockhead brushing your cervix as you feel the precum oozing from his slit. you can feel every prominent vein of his cock against your spongy walls, they're practically ingrained in you, your pussy molded to take his dick.

a creamy, white circle forms at the base of his cock as he forces his entire length inside, his girthy dick stretching your weeping pussy with loud, lewd squelches.

he doesn't give you time—he's selfish tonight, unapologetically so because luvie, he didn't track any dirt through the house! this is him rewarding himself for being so good! you can't discourage that, can you?

it isn't long until your backside is red, his hips pistioning into your sopping cunt, the sight of your slick pussy swallowing his red, angry cock so needily, sucking him in so desperately and clamping around him was addicting, and the feel even more so. his pace isn't nice, it's mean, and relentless, and bruising.

"fuck, lovie, couldn' wait t'hav ya," he whined in your ear, his cock drilling into your tight hole as he nipped at your earlobe. calloused, rough and dirty hands kneading the fat of your ass, a sharp slap to your skin causing it to turn even more flushed and red as he fucked himself stupid.

he was pussy-drunk, drool dripping from his cracked, dry lips onto the expanse of your shoulder. he'd press lewd, wet kisses against your supple skin, adding to the trails of saliva that pooled from his lips.

you'd have bruises the shape of his fingers on your ass for days, maybe even a week after, because of how hard his hands grasp your backside, pulling you back onto his cock as he milks himself dry.

"need t'fill y'r pussy, baby," his voice comes out a low, rough whine, despite the heavy grasp and force he exerts, "fuck, 's all f'me, ain't it?"

he'd always make sure to put dirt on the floors if it meant making it up to you by stuffing his face between your thighs.

or, making sure to kick off his boots outside the door if it meant rewarding himself like this, again, and again, and again.

[whorelaud]

OFF LIMITS – rafe cameron ¡ (extra)

pairing brother's best friend!rafe cameron x brat!reader summary you slide into a random boy's dms on instagram, anything but expecting him to end up being your brother's best friend, let alone the person you'll be spending your summer vacation with. while resisting Rafe and his lingering gazes was an option, you found yourself in the constant loop of crossing the line; said line being your brother. ch content smut, unprotected sex, p in v, oral (f recieving), fingering, dirty talk, praise, slight overstimulation (?), pussy whipped rafe mhmm!!! disclaimer this is pure smut continuing ch 8! nothing too intense, js a small piece following the events. this can be read separately, it doesn't add nor change the plot, so feel free to skip over if you're uncomfortable!! not my best work but not my worst considering im in a big writing slump rn sighh >:( thank you for your patience, ill get started on ch 9 soon i pormise <3

NAVIGATION. series masterlist | 08

“Let me take care of you.” 

Flusteredness underestimates your emotions, insides stirring with giddiness you couldn’t comprehend into words. You wanted this, more than everything; it felt so right, there was no reason for you to risk it and decline such a tempting offer. 

You shyly nodded your head, suppressing the sheepish smile dancing on your lips, suddenly feeling exposed under Rafe’s gaze. His hands freely roamed around your body, landing wherever his eyes desired, places he dreamed of touching. 

“Lord, you’re beautiful.” He muffled out, littering feather-like kisses to your throat, then burying his nose in the crook of your neck as he took a whiff of your intoxicating scent. His teeth lightly grazed the sensitive skin, causing you to yelp, and accidentally brush over the hardon in his pants. “Fuckk– ‘need to be inside you.” 

“Please.” You shuddered through a gasp, grinding down to chase after the pleasure, merely to be stopped by Rafe’s hold as he halted you in your spot. 

His hands found the curve of your ass, squeezing the plush flesh hidden underneath the thin material of your shorts, using the gasp he earned out of you for granted to slip his hands beneath the fabric. He toyed with the lacey strings, digits practically shuddering over your skin, like an addict getting his hands on drugs for the first time.

“Such a pretty ass,” He grunted, scoffing as a moan escapes your parted lips. “Mhm, yeah baby, keep makin’ those pretty noises, lemme hear you.” 

Your head landed in the crook of his neck, forehead resting against his shoulder when your hips stuttered in the process of rolling down, dying for Rafe to do something. Your vision grew blurry, mouth seeking the skin hidden beneath Rafe’s shirt, wanting nothing more than to appreciate him as much as he was, mark him for everyone to see, and know he’s yours. 

Rafe eventually took action, tightening his hold around your ass as he stood to his feet, keeping you steady and in place. You gasped with disbelief, taken aback by the sudden movement, even more as he sweeps you around and softly throws you on the bed, causing you to land with a thud. 

You positioned your elbows up, letting them support your body as Rafe used his index to spread your legs apart, creating enough space for him to squeeze through. He positioned his knee in between your thighs, hands caressing the delicate skin leading to your heat. 

His fingers moved with a motive, driving you crazy with each time his cold digits brushed over your sensitive flesh, causing you to shudder from the touch. He lowered his head, just enough for you to catch glimpse of him from in between your legs. 

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, toying with the waistband of your shorts. “Need to taste you.” 

Rafe tugged the material down a bit, just enough for the chilly air to hit your skin, smothering goosebumps across your sides. He leisurely pulled down your shorts, torturing you with the gesture, though that’s what he was aiming for. 

With a game of tug and pull, he managed to get your shorts off, letting them slide down your knees, and bunch around your ankles. His gaze fixed on your panties, mouth salivating at the sight, as his head wandered with pure filth. He pressed his fingers to your heat through the thin cloth, causing you to jolt as he applied pressure, admiring the wet patch forming in your underwear. 

Your face practically burst from heat, avoiding the latter’s gaze as his finger lapped at your folds, tracing them up and down your core with a purpose. Your mewls were silent, heaving the atmosphere, the sound like music to Rafe’s ears. 

Rafe leaned forward, until his face levelled with the low of your stomach. He grasped the soft flesh in his hold, trailing wet kisses just beneath your belly button, leading all the way to your clothed folds, aching to have his mouth on you, feel his tongue swirl around your sensitive nub till you no longer could bear it. 

He planted a kiss to your clit through the fabric, causing you to shudder in his arms when he repeated the action, your whines encouraging him to continue, pressing further until you were overwhelmed with pleasure. 

“Rafe!” You arched into the touch, hips stuttering as Rafe pins you down to the bed. “Fuck, right there.” 

“Yeah?” He angled his head down, nose brushing over your heat in the process, the sensation making your knees buckle as you strived to close your legs around his head. Rafe, sensing your next move, halted you before you could further continue, forcing your thighs back in place. “Keep your legs open, hmm? Sit back and be a good girl for me, doll.” 

You desperately nodded your head, prying for Rafe to get the pink, lace panties off of you. And he did, detaching them off your hips, and letting them slide right off, revealing your achy cunt, wet and needy for him. 

“Oh my fuck,” he hissed, taking a whiff of your alluring scent, suddenly feeling drunk on your pussy, even if he didn’t get a taste of you yet. “Could you get any more perfect?” 

He fingered at your hole, collecting the sticky substance off, until it was coating two of his digits. He dragged his long fingers through your folds, gliding them up and down, till your whole pussy was coated with your juices. 

“So wet for me,” Rafe muttered, bringing his fingers to his parted lips. He inserted them inside, instantly savoring the taste of your pussy on his tongue, as his mouth pooled with spit. “You taste so fuckin’ good, baby.” 

You whined at that, nearly screaming when he brought his fingers back to your sensitive nub, rolling it in between his fingers as he bent down again, this time to mouth at your heat. He licked a stripe of your cunt, dragging his tongue up your hole, all the way to your clit, yet overwhelmed with the pleasure of his fingers. 

Rafe flicked his tongue over your clit, pressing your hips down with the hand to your stomach, amused by how overstimulated you grew, unable to comprehend normal words out. You’ve done this before, a few times to be exact, however, Rafe knew how to make you crumble, seeking your sensitive spot with his mouth, using every ounce of energy in his body to pleasure you. 

And fuck, did it feel good. It made up for all the longing and lust you’ve been pushing down, finally able to do something about it; and screwing all your problems. 

Your body jolted with pleasure, hands digging to the skin around your shoulders as he mouthed at your heat, sucking and nibbling on your nub, long fingers gliding up and down your folds, just where you needed them. 

Without a warning, he slid one of his fingers inside your hole, easily entering with how wet you were, pussy drenched with your juices. He pumped it in and out of your entrance, lining the second one before he leisurely increased the pace, fingers coating with your arousal. 

Your stomach twisted into a knot, lips gaping in pornographic moans that you failed to suppress from exiting your throat. That only inspired Rafe to fasten the movement of his tongue, swirling from your clit down to your entrance. He fucked your hole with his tongue, nose lightly digging to your core as he bobbed his head up and down, while still pumping his fingers in and out. 

Words couldn’t describe the emotions you were experiencing. It almost felt euphoric, you never wanted it to stop, climax building as Rafe continues lapping at your cunt with his mouth. Rafe oughted to make you feel good, chasing after your pleasure, not a thought behind his eyes as he ate you out like a man starved.

“Come for me, pretty girl.” He cooed, not stopping what he was up to. The words practically flew past your ears, mind going blank as your legs trembled, announcing your orgasm. 

Rafe’s tongue was yet to stop, walking you through your climax, until you grew sensitive to the fraction of his tongue constantly flicking at your clit. Your eyes forced shut, sweat forming around your body, coating your skin with a layer of afterglow. Rafe moved away from your heat, falling mesmerized the moment his gaze landed on you. 

His cock twitched in his pants, vision fogging with haze. You looked surreal, out of the world, like an angel who spawned on earth. He almost felt bad for breathing the same air as you, being in your presence and ever getting a chance to do this, please you till you’re cumming on his tongue. 

You shied away from the touch, fluttering your eyes up at the latter, whose lips tugging into a coy smile at your action. “Why are you staring?” 

“No reason,” he snorted, bringing his face close to yours. His nose brushed over yours, not giving you a chance to speak before he captured your lips in an eager kiss, the taste of your arousal on his tongue invading your mouth. He smiled into the kiss, pulling away when you shoved his shoulder. “Was that good?” 

“Hmm…” you trailed off, pretending to think. “Could be better.” 

Lie. 

“You think so?” His eyebrows cocked in a teasing manner, lips tugging into a smile. “Should we go for another round?” 

“One’s enough!” You stopped him before he could bend down, your statement earning a chuckle out of him. “Stop messin’ around!” 

“Sorry,” he snickered, voice barely above a whisper. The smile on his face quickly faded, gaze travelling down to your hand, as it slowly caressed up his thigh, halting just over his crotch. He hushed out your name, breath shuddering as you palmed his hardon through his pants, grasping his length in your hold. “Such a brat, can’t wait to have my dick inside you, huh?” 

“Take it off,” you whined in response to the snarky comment, striving to unbuckle his belt, then unbutton his pants, inching back just enough for him to get them off, leaving him in his boxers. You gulped at the sight of his underwear, aching to take it off, as well as his shirt. “The shirt too.” 

Rafe stifled out a teasing laugh, sliding the shirt off his head, and over his arms, letting it fall to the floor. Your gaze immediately landed on his torso, a breath knocking out of your chest at the scene. His broad chest was on full display, just for you to stare, without having to look away, afraid others might catch you practically undressing him with your eyes.

The boy pushed you back on the bed, letting your back collide with the mattress in a soft thud. He removed the lock of hair blocking your vision, leaning down to plant a kiss to your lips. It was soft, deliberate, lasted a few seconds before the latter moved away. You cupped his calloused jaw, almost choking on air while he balanced himself on his knees, not breaking eye contact as he freed himself from his boxers, not long before he tossed them to the floor. 

Your breath hitched, gaze leisurely trailing down to his cock, as pre-cum glistened at the slit, coating it with a glossy layer that had you salivating at the mouth. Rafe scooted himself closer to you, lining the tip of his cock with your entrance, groaning as it got buried in your folds. 

Pleasure underestimates what you were feeling. Hell, you were a wreck of emotions, far too gone to comprehend your surroundings, nor did you care for such facts.  

He works his way in smoothly but deliberately, thrusts gentle, afraid he’d hurt you if he was rough. That, of course, had you testing your patience, as you wiggled down on his cock, urging him to push his throbbing length inside you. 

And he did, muffling out a whimper as he slams his hips into your soaked cunt, making you arch your back at the gesture. His cock filled your hole, coating every corner of your walls, leaving no space for you to think. 

“Look at you,” he whispered, grinding his hips down, as his fingers ghosted the curve of your waist, face mere inches away. “Taking me so well, such a good girl f’me, hmm, y’like that I’m filling your pathetic, needy hole?” 

“Rafeee,” you mewled out, throwing your bad back as he continued thrusting his cock inside you, the collision creating a squelching sound. “Please, please, yes!” 

“Mhm, you like that?” He muffled in between kisses, hand cupping your tits. He rolled your nipple in between his fingers, causing it to harden in his hold, goosebumps immediately breaking out across your chest. “Wanna fuck you stupid, you don’t understand how long I’ve been waiting for this, the amount of times I held back each time you’d walk around in those sleeping shorts.” 

Your moans lulled pathetic, speaking louder than you can put into words. Rafe's cock felt amazing inside you, thrusting in and out with need and despair, that it didn’t take long for your arousal to build up yet again, though mere minutes passed regarding your previous orgasm. 

Rafe littered soft kisses to your lips, thrusts growing fast and sloppy as he buried himself inside you, drunk on your pussy, and the sensation of your hole clenching around his cock. His breaths fell heavy, filling the air as well as your whines, unable to contain them any longer. 

“So close,” he grunted, announcing his climax. “Come for me, sweet doll.” 

Your nails dug to his shoulders, moans increasing in volume as your orgasm made its approach, as Rafe continued pumping his cock inside your sloppy cunt, giving him easy access to your hole, and the ability to pleasure you.  

The nickname drove you over the edge, coming undone with a rough, wet thrust, relaxing in the latter’s arms as he continued fucking you, pace fastening with each time he grinded his hips down. 

It wasn’t long before Rafe was coming, loading your cunt as his cock kissed your cervix with one last slam to his hips, painting your walls white with his sperm, as the warmness of the sticky substance filled your insides, causing a ragged sigh of relief to escape your throat. 

Rafe nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning over the flesh, as he proceeded to come down from his high. A chuckle forced its way out your parted lips, earning the boy’s attention as he perked up, gaze locking with yours. 

“What?” He asked, addressing you with the question. “Why are you laughing?” 

“I don’t know,” you continued chuckling, “This is jus’ silly.” 

“That’s the first thing you say after we just had sex?” He mumbled in disbelief, head cocking to the side.

“What do you want me to say?!” You argued, wrapping your arms around his neck, and using the pressure of the touch to force him down, till your lips connected with his in a soft kiss, one different from your previous ones today. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, heat flushing your face. “You don’t understand how much everything you do means to me.”

The corner of Rafe’s lips twitched into a smile, heart melting to pieces. 

Yeah, this was more than worth getting beaten to a pulp by Ryan. 

[shomatoriashi]

01/05/25; 10:07pm

xavier x fem.reader / mc.reader

obligatory tags: @milkandstarlight

notes: this is dedicated to all of you xavier girlies out there, with his misty silhouette card as my sole inspiration (⺣◡⺣)♡

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

{ so if i get jealous, i can’t help it | i want every bit of you, i guess i’m selfish. }

you saw a flash of anger across xavier’s eyes the moment he turns away from you, focusing on one of your plants when he grabs the gardening shears. the snipping sounds of those slender blades cutting through the branches echoes throughout the room. you could sense the wave of possession that courses through xavier’s veins, and you knew that you had to stop him.

swallowing thickly, you use the tip of your heels to reach him, managing to give his backside a gentle kick. he lets out a gasp, facing you with a darkened gaze. “don’t take your frustrations out on the plants. they’re innocent.”

he remains silent, turning around to completely face you as he gently grips at your knee, “where should i put it then?”

with your lips pursed, you slowly wrap your legs around his waist, forcing xavier to hold you against him. despite the faint pink hue seen on his cheeks, he manages to tell you, “don’t use the same tricks twice. it loses its effectiveness.”

a cheshire cat grin spreads across your features when you lean in to whisper in his ear, “then what are you suggesting?”

he was unable to resist you, leaning closer to you before admitting, “i don’t know.”

knowing all too well that he was throwing a tantrum, you lean forward and purposely bite down against his ear, earning yet another breathless gasp from him. “if that’s the case, then two can play at that game.”

you hear xavier click his tongue before leading you against your windows, “didn’t you say i shouldn’t take it out on the plants? what exactly did i do wrong?”

you met his gaze, allowing your hands to gently frame at his face, “are you pretending to be mad, xavier?”

he suddenly presses your front against the cold window, causing goosebumps to erupt all across your skin. his large hand was felt resting against your chin, pressing lingering kisses against you while admitting, “i’ve only pretended not to be.”

you tremble before telling him, “i thought that you were the type to calm down quickly…” yet your words die against your throat the moment you felt xavier grinding against your backside, making you feel something hard poking you. “that depends… on who i’m with.” he breathes in your scent, still grinding on you while admitting, “it also depends on how i want to calm myself down.”

you fought against the desire that threatens to course through you, attempting to keep a clear mind as you spoke to him, “xavier…! something’s off about you today…”

“i agree… it’s very strange.” with a pant, you felt him continue to slowly grind into you, “but it looks like… i won’t be easily satisfied tonight.”

with those final words, he carries you toward your couch, settling you against the leather seat while keeping a large hand on your kneecap. the warmth exuding from the palm of his hand felt on your skin causes a shudder to course through you when you tried to stop him, “xavier, we can’t do this here-“

“don’t move.” his voice takes on a low tone, your protests falling on deaf ears when he spreads your legs for him. embarrassment causes your cheeks to heat up in response to his actions, and you felt your mouth go dry when he manages to pull the waistband of your panties down, allowing the flimsy material to hang precariously on your right ankle before kneeling in front of you.

the skirt of your dress hides his face from you, yet the moment you felt his thick finger dip into your slick heat, you were given little choice but to cling to your seat as xavier wastes no time devouring you. pumping his finger in and out of your core, you felt the way he presses his lips over your cunt, tongue tracing at the borders of your center before diving right in to drink up all you had to offer. the squelching sounds of his fingers moving in and out of you echoes throughout your living room, making you cry out when he suddenly pinches at your hardened clit.

in mere seconds, you spill into his mouth, your thighs trapping xavier against you as you felt the way his groans causes pleasurable vibrations to course through you. you were in a daze now, dimly aware of the shifting of fabric before feeling something hard pressing against you. your eyes look down, witnessing xavier’s cock for a brief moment before it disappears from within the fabric of your dress.

your breath hitches, feeling xavier push up the fabric of your dress, allowing you to see the way his cock was ready to impale you. with large hands gripping at the back of your thighs, xavier brings your body closer to him before sliding his cock within your slick walls.

you both toss your head back at the sudden intrusion, with xavier holding your body against him with one hand while the other was gripping at the armrest of the sofa. he moves with quick pounds against your aching cunt, the red hot sensation of his cock stroking your walls becoming too much to bear as you cling to him.

running on pure desire alone, your legs wrapped themselves around xavier’s waist when he fucks himself over and over again into you, purposely brushing his hardened length against your clit each time he meets your hips. you cling to him with a desperation, meeting his thrusts with your own as you felt the pleasure threaten to explode-

and with another, particularly hard thrust, you felt the entirety of your release rushing out of you, earning a grunt from xavier as he witnesses your clear fluids sliding down the length of his cock.

with a broken grunt of your name, xavier falls back against the floor, taking you with him while still connected to you. your hands automatically brace themselves against his hard chest, glistening with sweat as he lay with his shirt open. “ride me, starlight, ride me… since only you can make this endless envy disappear…”

with your breathing hitched from the honesty of his words, you continue to bounce up and down his cock. even when you were sobbing from the sheer pleasure of it all, you still rode him, chasing your next high while believing that you would never get enough of him…

{ … }

dawn was close to breaking through the windows of your bedroom when xavier finally carries you back to bed. your naked bodies were both damp from the activities the night before, and you felt pleasantly sore as xavier lays you in bed.

laying beside you, you give him a tired smile and trace at his handsome features with your fingertips. “xavier, why do you think i’ll leave you?” his gaze softens while leaning into the palm of your hand, “you won’t?”

“of course not.” you giggle, gently ruffling at his hair. this succeeds in making your boyfriend smile when he takes a hold of your hand, pressing a kiss against each fingertip. when he finishes, a wistful smile lands his expression, “do you think i’m childish?”

“yes.” you admit to xavier with a giggle, earning a pout from him, “but i can’t help it.”

“i know.” you tell him with clear affection heard in your voice, moving closer to him before beginning your reassurances for him,

“only one neighbor can open the lock to my apartment. his name is xavier.”

“in terms of people, only one of them is held as my favorite. his name is xavier.”

“and there’s only one person whom i’ll never leave, and his name is xavier.”

you complete your speech with a giggle, framing at xavier’s face once more, “does this make me childish, too?”

you bask in his bright smile before feeling the way his powerful arms wrap around your frame, bringing you oh so much closer to him as you felt him whisper in your ear,

“as long as i’m like you, that’s enough. childish, brave, and loved- i want to be just like you.”

end notes: i’m so happy at how this turned out, and despite not being an xavier girlie, i hope i did his story justice 🥹

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[ohproserpine]

for valentine's day, i thought i'd buy a gun.

synopsis: you make your husband mad on purpose tags: fem! reader, married couple, blood&injuries, demi alastor, suggestive/steamy, just a short kinda bad drabble to break my writer's block, ooc-ish alastor, soft alastor at first, vox mentioned don't like? don't interact.

"Cher!"

Alastor greeted you with a smile, his lips curved into a charming yet slightly crooked grin that softened the rugged edges of his appearance.

Leaning against the door frame, he looked every bit the rogue hunter returning from a hunt. His once-neat attire bore tears, burns, and scratches, with both knees of his pants ripped and scuffed thin. His monocle hung loosely on his chest, the glass broken and shards glinting in the light. Tousled strands of crimson hair fell haphazardly across his forehead, framing his rugged features, while a trickle of blood from the cut on his lips dripped down his chin, staining his deathly pale skin.

"Christ!" You jolted off the hotel bed, propelled into action by concern, your heart racing with worry. You began running around, collecting towels, extra clothes, and a first aid kit in a frantic rush.

Alastor moved into the room and stood in the very center, observing your frenzied activity with an amused smirk.

Finally, with all your materials in hand, you rushed to your husband's side, your footsteps echoing against the cold carpet.

"What happened to you?" you asked, filled with concern as you assessed his injuries, your eyes scanning his form for any more signs of distress.

"Just a little scuffle on the hunt, my doe," he replied with a cheer in his tone, spinning his staff in his hand. "Came across a feisty, moronic beast. But nothing I couldn't handle."

"A scuffle?" Disbelief colored your voice as you got on your tiptoes, straining to reach up and dab at the blood on his chin with a damp towel.

Alastor grinned down at you, his eyes tracing your features with tenderness. Always such a pretty view, but seeing you so domestic and sweet for him made him begin to feel hot below the collar. Leaning down, he reached out to sweep a stray strand of hair from your eyes, his long, sharp claws grazing against your skin.

"That can wait," his voice crackled with low static as he pulled you flush against him, chest against chest. "I've missed you dearly."

“Good heavens, Alastor, you’re insatiable,” you chided him playfully with a swat, though the warmth in your tone betrayed your affection. Your fingers lightly brushed against the rough fabric of his torn shirt as you urged him to let you continue tending to his injuries. "Let me fix you up first."

Alastor's ears twitched back as he rolled his eyes at you, but his grip remained firm as he pulled you closer and closer until you were practically dragged towards the bed, falling into his lap with a gentle thud.

"Love," you began to protest, but before you could continue, he silenced you with a deep kiss pressed upon your lips, a low chuckle vibrating against your own, melting any further protest.

He drew back briefly, only to dive back in, his lips tracing a delicate path along your neck. With a familiarity born of passion, his hands roamed, each touch igniting a cascade of sensations that threatened to consume you both.

"Al," you whimpered, unable to resist the intoxicating allure of his touch. As his lips began to trail up your jawline, you found yourself melting into his arms, the tension of the earlier encounter gradually dissipating in the heat of the moment.

He let out a dark chuckle, the sound echoing in the room, as he threw off his ruined coat and loosened the tie around his neck. Gripping onto your hips with a firm hold, he all but threw you off his lap and onto the bed.

The smug bastard. He knew all too well that his affections could smooth over any trouble he found himself in.

"Alastor," you murmured, your senses cutting through the haze of desire, "We really should attend to your wounds first."

Alastor began to move towards you, his claws digging through and tearing the mattress beneath him. "In due time, my heart."

"I am serious," you insisted, ignoring the wide smile you received in return. Alastor merely hummed, a low, melodic sound, as he moved to press himself against you, encasing you in an embrace that felt simultaneously comforting and confining.

You leveled him with a glare. Gritting your teeth, you continued, "What did you even do? I know damn well you didn't get these," you gestured to the charred edges of his shirt, "from an animal."

"Well, dearest, it was from an overlord meeting. You understand how tense politics can become," Alastor countered with a laugh.

"Bushwa," you scowled, jabbing your finger into his chest. "I know a lie when I see one."

"Rather accusatory," Alastor hummed, his tone dismissive.

"Well, I apologize for worrying about my husband, who looks to be on the verge of collapse any moment now," you snapped, frustration seeping into your voice.

"So enough of this," you scolded, your expression hardening. "What did you do?"

"What was necessary," Alastor scoffed, a mirthless chuckle following.

"I'd say he deserved it. You should have seen the way he looks at you," he continued, his voice low and tinged with a hint of warning, the air around him crackling with static.

"Who?" you asked, leaning down to meet his gaze. "There are plenty of people. Plenty of looks."

"Don't act as if you don't notice that pompous television bastard hanging around the hotel nowadays," Alastor's voice crackled with dark intensity, the radio static grew stronger, prickling against your skin and nearly making his words incoherent.

So this is what it's about?

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at Alastor's jealousy, though a small part of you felt a flicker of flattery at his protectiveness.

Your husband's irritation simmered beneath the surface, evident in the subtle set of his jaw and the way his normally smug gaze turned icy. But a mischievous spark ignited within you, tempting you to push his buttons just a bit further, to dance dangerously close to the edge of his patience.

"Are you talking about Vox?" you asked with a smirk playing at your lips. Tilting your head coyly, you met Alastor's gaze with a glint of mischief in your eyes. Your voice was laced with honeyed sarcasm, dripping like molten gold from your lips.

His expression darkened at the mention, a flicker of raw anger crossing his features before he regained his composure.

"You know well who I'm talking about," Alastor's grin was uncanny, his voice carrying the same tone you'd heard the night he faced death. "Don't toy with me."

Despite the seriousness of his tone, you couldn't resist the urge to tease him further. A playful smile danced on your lips as you reached out, gripping onto his tie and pulling him closer, closing the distance between you with a pull.

“What if I found him charming?” you breathed out against his lips, your voice a tantalizing whisper as you ran your hands up the fabric of his undershirt. Your touch was featherlight, fingers smoothing down the wrinkles of his torn button-up with a teasing caress. “I might have let him have me right then and there.”

A sudden sharp pierce of a distorted screech, like a radio malfunctioning, cut through the air, shattering the moment. Claws flying up to grip your face, Alastor broke the kiss and stared down at you with glowing blood-red eyes, their intensity piercing through you. Your breath caught in your chest at the sight, your heart pounding in your ears as you were overcome by a mixture of fear and anticipation.

Alastor called out your name. It was the first time you had heard him utter it in a while. Throughout the years, he had always addressed you by endearing nicknames, leaving you half-convinced that he had forgotten your actual name.

But as the sound of fell from his lips, despite the danger, you found yourself yearning to hear it once more, to feel the weight of your name on his tongue.

"My sweet," Alastor tutted, a screech of radio feedback following him as he cupped your neck in one hand, guiding your gaze back to him. His touch was possessive, firm, and demanding, akin to the control of a puppeteer manipulating his marionette.

"Never utter such words again," he growled softly, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His grip tightened ever so slightly, sharpened claws a warning of the consequences should you dare to defy him. "No one else shall lay claim to you."

With a defiant tilt of your chin, you met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down in the face of his dominance. "And what if I refuse?" you challenged, your voice steady despite the fear that coiled in your belly.

Alastor's lips curled into a manic grin, his canines shining beneath the lights of the room, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he leaned in closer.

"Then you shall suffer the consequences."

[thef1diary]

ghost!max leaving notes on the fogged up mirror when you’re showering 😭

— it might’ve started with sweeter messages, but ghost!max can’t help himself. He wrote filthier messages after watching you in the shower. 18+ content below

The steam curled around you as hot water cascaded over your skin, the bathroom filling with a thick fog. It was your favorite part of the day—until you noticed the faint outline of letters forming on the mirror.

Your heart thudded as you leaned forward, wiping a hand over the sliding glass door to clear the condensation to read the words left on the mirror: Touch yourself for me

Your breath hitched, heat blooming across your chest that had nothing to do with the shower. He was here. Watching.

“Max,” you whispered, the word barely audible above the rush of water.

The response came swiftly, more words scrawling themselves onto the mirror with the same unnerving precision: I’m only going to watch you today

Your legs trembled, the audacity of his command igniting a spark of arousal that pooled low in your belly. Your body betrayed you, responding to the idea of his unseen gaze, his silent presence urging you to obey.

Another message materialized, sharper, more insistent: Don’t make me repeat myself

You swallowed hard, a shiver racing through you that had nothing to do with the cold. Your thighs parted instinctively, your hand bracing against the slick tile as your other slid between your legs. Hesitation lingered for only a heartbeat before the ache became unbearable, and your fingers found your clit, circling gently at first.

The first gasp tore from your lips, the slick pressure sending jolts of pleasure through your body. You swore you felt him—an ethereal press against your back, cold and electric, guiding you, urging you on.

More words soon emerged on the mirror: Good girl

The chill intensified, a spectral sensation of hands grazing over your hips—as if he was resisting himself from touching you—steadying you as your movements grew more desperate. The imagined weight of him was intoxicating, his invisible presence commanding, the thought of his gaze locked on you made you tremble.

Each thrust of your fingers sent waves of heat coursing through your veins, and your knees threatened to buckle. The rhythm of your breaths matched the pounding of your heart, ragged and uneven.

The mirror filled with new, jagged letters, his boldest demand yet: Don’t stop until you’re screaming my name

The pressure inside you built to a breaking point as you read the words, creating an ache that demanded release. You clenched around your fingers, your wetness dripping down your thighs that was quickly washed away by the steady stream of water. The intensity crested as pleasure ripped through you, a cry of his name escaping your lips, raw and unrestrained, the sound echoing in the steamy confines of the bathroom.

Your legs shook as you sagged against the tiled wall, chest heaving, the water doing little to cool the lingering heat that radiated from your core.

When you dared to look at the mirror again, one final message greeted you, lingering like a dark promise in the dissipating fog: Next time, I won’t just watch

want more ghost!max? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[sushiyuzu]

fluffy moment with lads men

sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel & caleb

sylus

the snow crunches under your boots as you walk through the park, your breath coming out in soft puffs of mist. the trees are bare, their branches dusted with fresh snow, and the entire world feels quiet, like it's wrapped in a soft, cold blanket.

beside you, sylus walks with his hands in his pockets, his red eyes scanning the winter landscape. the park is almost empty, save for a few scattered figures in the distance, but it feels like it’s just the two of you, isolated in this snowy world.

you pull your coat tighter, but the wind still bites at your face and fingers. despite the beauty of the park, the cold is starting to get to you. you rub your hands together, trying to generate some warmth, but it’s no use.

sylus, ever observant, notices. he pauses mid-step, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. without a word, he pulls off his thick black jacket and steps closer to you.

“here,” he says quietly, draping it over your shoulders before you can protest.

the warmth of his jacket is immediate, the heavy material shielding you from the wind. you blink, looking up at him as you pull the jacket tighter around yourself. it’s big on you, the sleeves falling past your hands, but it’s soft and still warm from his body heat.

“but what about you?” you ask, your voice small against the quiet of the park.

sylus shrugs, not meeting your eyes. “i’m fine, sweetie. you looked like you needed it more.”

you feel your heart skip a beat at his words. it’s such a simple gesture, but it carries more weight than he realizes. the park feels even quieter now, the only sound the distant whistle of the wind and the soft rustle of his jacket as you shift it on your shoulders.

“thanks,” you mumble, your cheeks warming despite the cold. you glance at him, and for a second, you think you see a flicker of something soft in his expression before he turns away.

“don’t mention it,” he says, but you catch the faintest hint of a smile as he continues walking.

you follow him, the snow crunching beneath your feet once more, but now the cold doesn’t seem so bad. with his jacket wrapped around you, it feels like a shield, not just from the wind, but from the distance you’ve always felt between the two of you.

for the rest of the walk, you stay close to him, savoring the warmth of the jacket and the quiet comfort of his presence.

zayne

the door to your quarters slides open, and zayne steps inside, holding a small, white plushie in his hands. his face shows a mix of anticipation and amusement as he approaches you.

“hey,” he says, a playful grin on his lips. “i got something for you.”

you look at the plushie, a cute white seal with big, round eyes and a little blue bow around its neck. “what’s this?” you ask, your curiosity piqued.

“i won it from an arcade machine,” zayne explains, holding it out to you. “i thought it’d be a nice surprise.”

you take the plushie, feeling its soft, plushy fur against your fingers. it’s surprisingly well-made, and its cheerful face immediately brings a smile to your own.

“this is adorable,” you say, hugging the plushie to your chest. “thank you, zayne. it’s perfect.”

zayne’s grin widens, clearly pleased by your reaction. “i thought it might cheer you up. and, well, i couldn’t resist getting it for you.”

you look up at him, touched by the gesture. “it definitely brightened my day. it’s nice to know you thought of me.”

“i’m glad you like it,” he says, taking a step closer. “i just wanted to give you something to make you smile.”

you sit down, holding the plushie close. zayne sits next to you, and the two of you share a quiet moment. the plushie rests between you, a small symbol of his thoughtfulness and affection.

“it’s going to have a special place,” you say, gently patting the plushie. “thank you for this.”

zayne nods, a soft smile on his face. “you’re welcome. i’m just happy it made you smile.”

the warmth of the moment, coupled with the simple joy of the gift, creates a tender connection between you. the white seal plushie becomes a comforting reminder of zayne’s care and the special bond you share.

xavier

you step into xavier’s cozy apartment, the familiar scent of his place welcoming you. it’s warm and inviting, with soft lighting casting a gentle glow over the room. he’s already there, preparing a pot of hot cocoa on the kitchen counter.

“hey,” he says with a smile as you enter. “i thought we could use some hot cocoa and a warm blanket tonight.”

you smile back, appreciating the thoughtfulness. “that sounds perfect.”

xavier pours two steaming mugs of hot cocoa, carefully adding marshmallows on top before handing one to you. he gestures to the living area, where a soft, knitted blanket is spread out on the couch.

“make yourself comfortable,” he says, settling onto the couch and patting the space next to him.

you take a seat beside him, feeling the warmth from the cocoa cup seep into your hands. the blanket is cozy and inviting, and you both wrap it around yourselves as you settle in.

“this is really nice,” you say, taking a sip of the hot cocoa. the rich chocolate flavor is comforting, and the warmth spreads through you.

“i’m glad you think so,” xavier replies, his voice soft as he takes a sip from his own mug. “i wanted to do something relaxing for us.”

you both sit together, the blanket cocooning you in warmth. you chat about your day, and the conversation flows easily, the comfort of the setting making it easy to relax and enjoy each other’s company.

as the evening progresses, you find yourself leaning closer to xavier, feeling content and at ease. he occasionally brushes a strand of hair from your face or gives you a reassuring smile, his presence making you feel cherished.

the hot cocoa eventually disappears, but the warmth of the moment lingers. you both stay wrapped in the blanket, enjoying the peaceful evening together, the simple pleasure of each other’s company making the night feel special.

“thanks for tonight,” you say softly, looking up at him with a smile. “it’s exactly what i needed.”

xavier’s eyes meet yours, and he returns your smile with a gentle one of his own. “i’m happy to hear that. it’s always nice to spend time like this with you.”

the evening continues with quiet conversation and shared laughter, the warmth of the blanket and the cocoa only adding to the comfort of being together. it’s a perfect, simple moment that you’ll cherish.

rafayel

rafayel takes your hand and leads you to a picturesque spot by the edge of a serene lake. the early morning sun casts a warm, golden glow over the landscape, making the scene look like something out of a dream. he sets up his easel and canvas with practiced ease, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

“i thought we could spend the day here,” rafayel says, his voice soft and filled with anticipation. “it’s one of my favorite places to paint. i hope you like it.”

you look around and see the vibrant colors of the flowers and the gentle ripples on the lake’s surface. it’s a perfect setting, and you smile at him. “it’s beautiful. i’d love to be here with you.”

he hands you a blanket and a small basket of snacks he prepared. “while i paint, you can relax or explore a bit. let me know if you need anything.”

you settle on the blanket, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere as rafayel begins to work on his painting. you watch him with admiration as he skillfully captures the scene on his canvas. his movements are fluid and graceful, and he hums softly to himself as he paints.

occasionally, he glances over at you with a smile, and you return it, feeling content. the sound of nature around you is soothing, and you feel a sense of tranquility.

after a while, rafayel finishes his painting and walks over to you, holding the canvas with a proud smile. “what do you think?”

you look at the painting and see that it beautifully captures the essence of the place—vivid colors, gentle brushstrokes, and a sense of serenity. “it’s amazing,” you say. “you’ve really brought the scene to life.”

he sits down beside you, and you both enjoy the snacks he prepared. as you eat, you share stories and talk about your dreams and plans. the easy conversation and laughter make the day even more special.

as the sun begins to set, casting a warm, orange hue over the lake, rafayel leans closer to you. “i’m really glad we did this,” he says softly. “spending time like this with you means a lot to me.”

you lean against him, feeling a deep sense of happiness. “me too. today has been perfect.”

you both watch as the sky changes colors, the peaceful moment marking the end of a beautiful day together. the memory of this day, with its simple pleasures and intimate connection, will stay with you long after the sun has set.

caleb

caleb arrives at your place with an excited grin, holding a pair of tickets for a festival happening on skyhaven. “hey pip-squeak, i thought we could check out the annual skyhaven festival tonight.” he says, his enthusiasm contagious. “it’s supposed to be amazing this year.”

you can’t help but smile at his excitement. “that sounds great! i’ve heard a lot about it but never been.”

you both head to the festival, and the moment you step out of the transport pod, you’re greeted by a vibrant display of lights and colors. the festival is bustling with activity, with stalls and booths set up everywhere, offering a variety of foods, games, and attractions.

caleb takes your hand and leads you through the crowd. “let’s start with the food stalls,” he suggests. “i heard they have some new dishes this year.”

you follow him to a stall that offers a mix of traditional and exotic treats. you both sample different dishes, laughing and sharing bites of your favorites. caleb’s eyes light up every time he tries something new, and he’s eager to hear your thoughts on each dish.

after enjoying the food, you move on to some of the festival’s games and attractions. caleb challenges you to a friendly competition at a ring toss booth, and you both cheer each other on as you try to win prizes. caleb’s playful nature and genuine encouragement make the experience even more enjoyable.

as the evening progresses, the festival features a stunning light show that transforms the sky into a canvas of vibrant colors. caleb finds a perfect spot where you both have an unobstructed view. he wraps his arm around you as you both gaze up at the mesmerizing display.

“this is incredible,” you say, leaning against him. “i’m so glad you brought me here.”

caleb smiles and gives you a gentle squeeze. “i’m really happy you’re enjoying it. i wanted to share this with you because it’s one of my favorite events.”

the festival continues with music, dancing, and fireworks. caleb pulls you onto the dance floor, and you both move together to the rhythm of the lively tunes. the joy and excitement of the festival make you feel like you’re floating in a world of pure happiness.

as the night draws to a close, caleb takes you to a quieter corner of the festival where you can sit and relax. the two of you share a moment of calm, watching the last of the fireworks and enjoying the peaceful end to a fantastic evening.

“thank you for tonight,” you say softly, leaning into him. “it’s been amazing.”

caleb looks at you with a warm smile. “i’m glad you had a great time. it’s been perfect because i got to spend it with you.”

the festival may be over, but the memories of the night and the connection you shared linger, making it a special and unforgettable experience.

[hivemuthur]

Nothing's New - Ch.1.

viktorxfemale!reader explicit!

AU modern era, lovers to enemies to lovers, getting back together, a lot of angst, smut to come somewhere mid-way through

Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6.

word count: 5,7K

tag: #nothings new

summary: It's a bit late, but I had to touch some grass. This is an expository chapter that puts almost all pawns on the table. It's mostly angst and it's a very experimental thing for me, I will be updating warnings as we go. Updated probably every week or sooner!

Cross-posted on AO3

—

“Hey,” he says in a warm tone, a gentle nudge on your elbow as a cold glass is placed bottom-flat on your palm. A very much welcomed chill in the suffocating, wet, soggy heat on Jayce’s balcony, which still isn’t as bad as the inside of his apartment. Then, a pair of strong hands, their warmth equal to that of the voice, wraps around your biceps. A pair of blue eyes looks deeply into yours, analysing, searching the inside of your head.

“It’s okay. I love you.”

A layer of moist cotton brushes your face before the mass of a broad chest squishes your nose in an embrace.

“What?” you muffle into the material, tasting salt against your lips, the smell of sweat—the good kind, the strong, manly kind—and pine hitting your nostrils, your arms hanging idly by your sides, one of them gripping the cold glass tighter. “Why would you say it now?”

That is a first. A love confession thrown casually between the two of you, like a lifebelt for your sanity, waggling desperately in a muddle. He moves away, and you down the whiskey along with the ice cube, which you shove into your cheek.

His palms still cradle your arms as he leans in, his head hanging pensively from his neck. A wonderful, beautiful, reassuring smile paints his lips as he says, “I just felt like saying it. And it’s alright.”

Hot, very hot, very honest lips press themselves to your sweaty forehead, leaving a lingering kiss. The embrace resumes, this time your face pressed to the side of his neck, as he murmurs, “I don’t need you to say it back. I don’t need you to do anything, just… try to relax.”

Absurd. No one just throws their heart out like that to be eaten. No one with any common sense or self-respect.

You push yourself back from his chest, letting his hands fall, entwined, on your lower back. God, the heat is unbearable. “This is a big thing to say so casually. Why now?”

“Alright, you got me,” he chuckles. “I wanted to ask you something.” He scratches his neck and looks at you with timid hope.

His tone is playful, expectant to the point of twisting your guts. When all he’s confronted with is a pair of eyebrows raised into two inquisitive arches, he relents, “I want you to move in with me.”

You swallow your ice cube. With a painful gulp, it travels down your throat, and you can feel it passing your heart, your lungs, all the way down to your stomach. You can hear it dropping into the pool of acid with an echoing plop sound. Shit.

“Is this because he is here?”

“What? No—” his grossly hot hands cradle your cheeks, and you feel your skin warming up even more under his calloused fingers.

“Of course not. I have planned it, and I have proof,” he says calmly, pulling a set of extra keys from his back pocket and dangling them between your faces. “See?”

When no reaction comes from your side, just a stunned expression, he starts jangling them furiously and laughing.

His smile is blinding. Imperfect, teeth almost too big for his face, it makes his cheeks rise up, his eyes crinkle heavily, and he looks gorgeous.

“You are around all the time anyway. But fine—just promise you will think about it.”

Wordlessly, you take the keys from his hand and put them in your pocket. “This is not a yes. But I will think about it,” you shoot him a warning look, which softens immediately when you see him resist an expression of relief crawling up his face.

“And thank you,” you say with a tiny hint of a smile, placing a sweaty hand on his cheek and running your knuckles through his stubble.

“You should mingle. These are your friends, after all.”

Yes. These are your friends. Who, against their better judgement, haven’t ostracised you, as you were sure they would. Who have greeted you wholeheartedly at the doorstep with real, joyful hugs and expressions of relief upon seeing you. Jayce grabbed you tightly and lifted you off the floor, and Mel gave you a massive, loud smooch on the cheek, very aunt-worthy.

“What are you going to do? Just air out all evening?”

You relax into his touch, pushing your hands down his jeans’ back pockets.

“Oh, I’ll mingle. Just… later,” he smiles and kisses you lovingly.

His kisses are nice, though stressful. Like he is thanking you for existing and allowing him to stand by and maybe hijack your act of being. Even though he assures you there are none, the invisible, deniable mass of expectations makes you walk on wonky legs around him.

His hands cradle your shoulders, rubbing them so tenderly, you almost don’t mind the heat. Almost. Slowly, very slowly, his touch has crawled into your memory and become the default touch you expect whenever feeling the sensation of someone’s skin resting on yours, and sadly, a little part of your soul usually whines in disappointment at being touched at all. A good, uncomplicated man with enough insecurities to keep you relatively safe and complacent.

You give him one last lingering peck and head inside, letting the wave of inhumane temperature and the scent of sweat mixed with alcohol breath wash over you. Mel and Jayce live in an old building; no artificial air allowed. It reminds you of your previous place, where, against all odds, you slept naked, covered only by a thin sheet of cotton, just so you could wrap yourself around your skinny love. You push the memory away, as it twists your stomach.

A sea of teeth greets you indoors, one smile after the other, as you squeeze yourself through the crowd toward the kitchen. You march straight to the freezer to pour yourself another drink filled with ice cubes and sigh with relief when a cold gush fans your face.

“Good evening,” a voice startles you so hard you gasp.

Fuck.

You look to your right beyond your shield of the freezer door, and there they are—two slim calves draped over each other and a cane in front of them.

Still crouched, you take a fistful of ice from the drawer, stand up, and say only a stupid, “Hi.”

Viktor is studying you, like an owl would study a rodent. His eyes glint in the dusk, blinking slowly as if he is waiting for you to say anything that has more than one syllable.

He saw you coming in, and his heart skipped a beat. After a quick analysis of all the options he had, he chose the cowardly hideout in the bathroom, a splash of water onto his neck swollen from grinding teeth, and a couple of deep breaths stolen while sitting on the closed toilet.

You alone are enough to make his skin crawl, and yet, to ensure his ruin, you brought your ‘new project’ with you.

Tall, taller than Jayce, broad, broader than Jayce, a man who steals the gasps from the crowd wearing only a white t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. A complete embodiment of everything Viktor isn’t. A slap on the face, a shoe sole grinding it into his pride.

And now you are here, scrambling up from the floor, melting ice dripping through your fingers.

“How… are you?” you ask dumbly, before cringing at your own obsequious tone. You know exactly how he is. Mel has sneaked in a few text messages before you cut her off and changed the subject. Jayce has tried to contact you at the beginning but eventually stopped—possibly at Viktor’s request.

He looks like a man who has just recovered from a long, devastating disease and has managed to crawl his body into the outside world for the first time in months. And judging by the way you felt in the first two months, that might have been true.

But after the first two months, you met Paul. And Paul is warm and gentle, good at mending broken objects and skittish animals, so you are an obvious perfect fit. He also lies a lot about his life, films he’s seen, and books he’s read, but to peel that entire truth out from its shell you would have to spend more time with him.

He made the first step after buying a book from you. His hands were rough, his fingertips hardened from the heavy strings of a double bass, but his soul seemed clean, and he smelled nice.

He is a teacher by day and a musician by night, chasing his passion with a steady pace, happy to have two good hands that allow him to play, hug you, cook for you, and dance with you. He fixed his eyes on you as you carefully wrapped Coming Through Slaughter for him, while he threw silly remarks in your direction.

“You’re really good at this,” he said with a dumbfounded grin.

“Wrapping books?” You looked at him from underneath your glasses, but the contagion of his smile bled into you, and the quip held no power whatsoever.

He chuckled and slid you a flyer with a 20-dollar bill, brushing your fingers. “Come see my band tonight. I’ll buy you a drink.”

You took it but said nothing. With a teasing smile, you handed over his book and chanted the shop’s slogan, “Thank you for shopping at the Bookhounds of Brooklyn.”

He smiled back, tucked the package under his armpit, and gave you one last look. “See you tonight.”

You shook your head. But you went. And then you got stuck in the tight wrap of his arms holding you through the night. And then before you could stop it from getting serious, he met Mel and Jayce and pried them about your quirky behaviours between drinks and snacks. Before you could stop anything, Paul glued himself to your life and became a needy sticker you carried with you everywhere. Sometimes you caught yourself thinking awful things, like if Viktor felt the same around you when you probed him for chunks of words after he came back from work utterly defeated and worn out.

And now, while your chunk of beautiful meat is airing his arse outside, you are stuck in the kitchen with your ex. Three years flash behind your eyeballs as you wait for him to reply to your stupid question. “I’m… fine.”

The words come out choked, and Viktor scowls internally. He can feel the scrutiny of your stare and clears his throat. He is far from fine. He is beyond pissed with Jayce for not telling him you were bringing a plus one. He is pissed that your plus one is his exact opposite. He is absolutely livid with Jayce for telling him to act civil and try to rebuild the friendship—for Jayce’s sake. “Please, try, for me,” Jayce had pleaded, and Viktor could only scoff in his face.

But above all this, he feels a wave of white-hot anger anytime he thinks of you. The sight of you surges a blinding hatred through his veins, and he pictures your spine snapping in half. And above even this, he hates himself, because the sordid, unspoken truth is staring him in the face. He misses you with every bone in his body.

He misses your face. He misses your half-drunken cups of tea everywhere to the point where he has started doing it himself. He misses the weight of you on the mattress next to him. He misses your whining about the heat in his apartment in the summer and the chill in winter. He misses word wrestling with you. He misses your jokes. He misses fucking you. He misses your snoring.

He misses your hand at the nape of his neck late at night when he sits hunched over the desk, and he scolds himself for ever brushing it off, because there is a strong possibility that nobody will ever touch him like that again. That he will never want anyone to even try to mimic your touch.

“I can see that your new project proves successful?” Don’t sound so hurt. He shifts his weight on the cane and looks down at your hand, holding the ice out like an offering.

“Don’t call him that,” you scoff. This was such a bad idea. But if you were ever to emerge from your cave of love, where you have lived happily with Paul for the last four months, Mel’s birthday is the perfect occasion. And Jayce would probably give an arm and a leg to get his friends back.

“Forgive me. Your new affair goes well then,” he corrects himself with less emotion but an equal amount of venom as earlier. He feels like stabbing you with his shoulder blade.

“Viktor,” you sigh, defeated. “This isn’t an affair. It’s… serious.” Wrong word, very wrong, but unretrievable now. It sounds like an apology, your brows furrowing, your face twisting into an upside-down smile. It seems serious enough to be said out loud.

“Oh? Working fast. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Viktor turns away, but it takes him merely a beat to pick up what you were putting down. Serious. His lungs begin to burn. He wants to rub sand into his eyes and cover them with bleach, so he never has to look at you again.

“Viktor, it just happened. Please, let’s not do this here.”

Seeing him turning on his heel, you drop the remaining ice in the sink and reach out for him. Before you can grab his arm, he pauses.

“Apologies. We don’t have to do any of that, in fact, ever,” he throws over his shoulder.

You didn’t give him the benefit of the last conversation, so why would he? His lizard brain screams at him to flee and hide, away from your touch, from your eyes, from your ice-cold hand, from your hot mouth. But he isn’t fast enough.

Your hand lands on his forearm, and he freezes. He speaks your name softly, a plea to let him go as your touch burns him, even though your hand is wet and cold.

Part of him wants to grab it and lick the ice-cold water off your fingers. To choke on your tongue and beg you to come back to him. But this part of him is weak, and the stronger, wounded part wins. The one that shrugs your hand off in a familiar gesture, this time less painful, more anticipated than in the confines of Viktor’s apartment in the heat of last summer.

“I know you are hurting,” you say carefully. You know him well enough to recognize when his defences become ridiculous in their concentration of venom. If he were a cat, he would hiss at you and bend his spine into a banana.

“You know nothing,” he scoffs. “You cannot possibly know. Hiding away in shame for six months. How would you know? If you are happy and serious with someone else?”

Careful. He is inching toward saying too much. It feels like having open-heart surgery in front of a live studio audience, and no one even laughs. He wants to die and never be born again. He wants to disappear from the face of this sorry planet, just as you have disappeared from his life. He wants to kill Paul and wear his skin like a pelt, even though he doesn’t even know if the guy deserves it.

You feel the anger stirring somewhere within you at his behaviour. He is not the only person whose three-year relationship has fallen apart. He’s not the only one who mourned it and cried for it. It sounds great in your head, so:

“Viktor, you are not the only one—”

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare tell me that you are hurting. It was fixable, and you—” he snarls, accentuating each sentence with a thump of his cane.

“If it were fixable, we would have fixed it. Viktor, please,” you plead quietly, trying not to drag anyone’s attention. You were supposed to be civil; Mel has asked you to.

“No. Just… stop. There was time for this, now it’s… it’s not the time. Enjoy your evening.” His voice strangles; his face paints in resignation as he leaves you alone in the kitchen.

How different this is to your first, to your second encounter, to all the encounters between your first and this one.

You remember it so well. Jayce was fuming when you told him what had gotten into your hands. The first English edition of Geometry and Experience by Albert Einstein. He wouldn’t be able to buy it, of course, but he really wanted to see it. He begged you to let him steal a glance and to let him bring a friend.

And so he brought his friend. You led them to the basement of the shop, where the book was resting on its plinth, in a special dust-free room with perfect temperature and perfect humidity. You took them to the shrine for books, and it felt almost religious.

And you remember the first time you laid your eyes on Viktor and blushed instantly at how his name rolled off his accented tongue when he introduced himself.

You remember how you thought this man was effortlessly everything. How you stole a glimpse of the column of his throat when he hummed in awe over the book and how you wondered if he would ever be willing to hum like that straight into your ear. How strangely erotic his hands were when you pictured them cradling your neck. How in this shrine, you would pray to him so he would do that in a sign of benediction.

Oh God, you wanted to take him home and just keep him there until he was out of breath.

And you remember how beautiful his face was when he first came into your mouth and how he immediately leaned in to kiss you, even before you could swallow. How you thought this was the most sensual thing anyone had ever done for you, with you, drinking his own cum from your tongue. The unity of bodies sealed with a kiss so grateful you almost fell apart.

The images of Viktor flood your mind’s eye: him drinking coffee on the windowsill, naked in the scorching summer sun as he warms his bones; his eyes observing you from between your thighs; him licking your face in a gross act of affection; slumped against the desk, asleep halfway through writing down his notes; sneaking behind you to warm his hands under your armpits; his face when he is sleeping, his hair scattered on the pillow; singular strands on the bathroom floor even though he always accuses you of losing hair; him pinning you down playfully when you win a banter over something and immediately groping your ass; him imitating trumpet sounds from your jazz records with his mouth; him drinking soup straight from the bowl; his glistening lips, his clean nails, his freckled chest.

You sink your teeth into your lip, feeling a rush of tears pooling in the corners of your eyes when Paul enters the kitchen. Always on time.

“Everything alright?” The way Paul hangs himself from the doorframe and immediately lights up when he sees you. The way he walks up and hugs your head to his chest, saying your name softly and making soothing sounds straight into your ear. Ah, yes, he is exactly what you need.

“Nothing, just… you know,” you sigh, relaxing into his touch.

“It’s okay,” he hums softly. “Do you want to scram?” He pulls away from you to lay a lifeboat at your feet.

“Oh God, yes, please,” you let out a breath you’ve been holding, and it feels so good your eyes roll. Anything but another encounter with the ghost of the love of your life. Of the former love of your life.

“Let’s go then,” he says, taking your hand and leading you discreetly to the hallway.

Mel stops the two of you in your tracks. “You cannot be serious right now,” she hisses, though not unkindly. Big, comical eyes accompany the hiss, so you know she isn’t really angry. “Viktor left; you don’t have to run away, guys,” she adds, a plea in her voice evident.

“Mel, I’ll meet you for coffee? This has been... lovely, I’m just—” You are just so utterly devastated that even if Viktor disappeared from the face of this planet, you wouldn’t want to stay.

“Oh, please, do not try to bullshit me. I’m sorry about this, Paul, but I need to speak some sense into this fool.” She waves a mass of your man away from you to grab your forearms. “Nobody is angry with you. We miss you. Please, you guys have to work this out. Jayce is still heartbroken, and I can’t do anything about it,” she says quietly, her voice laced with sincerity and helplessness.

Jayce was really heartbroken about your heartbreak. On the night of the event, Jayce found Viktor struggling to breathe in his apartment, so he took him home and kept him on his couch for a week, to Mel’s initial disapproval. But when she saw Viktor on the doorstep of her flat—when he clung to her and sobbed with a dry cry, repeating, “She’s gone,” over and over again; when she saw the marks on his palms where his nails had dug into the skin—she was ready to give him her own bed.

Mel felt bad in that moment because she knew it would happen. You had told her how hopeless everything had turned. That Viktor wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t try, and how the two of you had grown estranged, guarded, distant, and how you couldn’t pinpoint the moment when things had started to fall apart. How he would flinch away from your touch and sleep miles away from you, a vast, uncaring space between the two of you in your tiny bed.

So she held him, soothing his cries. She made him a cup of tea, gave him her favourite blanket, and kissed his forehead before turning off the coffee table lamp in their lounge. Then she went to slump her body next to Jayce, whose face had never been more worried. He asked her how Viktor was, and all she could do was shake her head in resignation.

“For now, it looks bad,” she said, cradling Jayce’s head to her chest and running her fingers through his hair. “But these things pass, you know,” she mused gently, not believing herself, and she was sure Jayce didn’t believe it either.

“I don’t get it. I know there were… issues, but this—” His voice got lost somewhere between his throat and mouth. Jayce only knew this much. He only knew what Viktor had told him, and Viktor said only that there were issues.

He didn’t tell Jayce how you had asked him if he was having an affair. How he had outright laughed in your face. How he had said, “That’s rich,” laced with venom. How he had hissed that you should get some help if the first thing you assumed was that. How egocentric you were if you didn’t see the stress he was under, presuming the long hours spent fighting for his—your—future were spent in someone else’s arms. How shitty you were for even suggesting it, after all his past love confessions. How you wouldn’t give him any time. And how you had said a year is a long time—how, within a year, millions of people are born and die, and he had barely touched you twice.

He didn’t tell Jayce how annoyed he was with your half-empty cups leaving pale rings on his wooden furniture. How annoyed he was that you couldn’t even take care of plants, and he had to come back home just to water them; otherwise, he could just spend all his time at work. How your dusty books spilling out of a bookshelf he had bought for you had annoyed him. How utterly pissed off he was when you would open the windows in the summer, letting the scorching heat inside. How it had started to make his skin crawl when you would whine along to the scratched records of Robert Johnson—and how they were scratched because you had no respect for the hardworking needle of your turntable.

And he didn’t tell Jayce how annoying your hair on the bathroom floor was, or how it drove him mad that you would move objects around into illogical spaces, only for your convenience, completely disrespectful of his previous order. How he hated the dusty pink wall you had painted together. And he didn’t tell Jayce how he wanted to slap you, to touch you, to make love to you when he was sad—but he couldn’t, because everything felt overwhelming, and nothing had felt right. And the only certain thing in his life was that when he came back home to water the plants, you would be there—sad, but you would be there—still wanting him, waiting for a moment when he would be ready to come back to you.

And later, he didn’t tell Jayce how he had discovered that the hair on the bathroom floor was, in fact, his, and how stupid he had felt about collecting it and putting it in an envelope, and the envelope in the box, alongside commemorative trinkets that you had left behind.

But once Jayce rushed to his aid, he instantly knew. When he saw Viktor curled up on the couch, holding your scarf in one hand and a crumpled note in the other, gasping for air, crying, he knew.

“Oh, there was more than issues, Jayce. I just… hoped they would finally talk,” Mel sighed. She had given you all the advice she could think of, but Viktor repelled every seductive technique she had sold to you in secrecy under girl’s code.

“You didn’t see him, Mel. He couldn’t breathe, I—”

“I know. I should probably check on her, though. I only got the voicemail, and then Viktor called,” she referred to your sobby message. Mel, I can’t breathe. I left, and I feel like I’ve died. After that, your phone was off—for a week. Utterly neurotic and dramatic.

But your undoing was relatively peaceful. Numbing, almost. Quiet, save for the constant wail of Sinead O’Connor. And no, not Nothing Compares To You. Drink Before The War.

It felt like being shot through a cannon into space—weightless and hopeless. The infected wound, previously festering, was now being painfully cleaned; remnants of rotten tissue pulled away, sewn up with a crude needle, leaving an empty spot under the skin to create an ingrown scar that would always remind you of him.

Your stuff was still in boxes, hanging in limbo between going back and moving forward. The number of times you had written a text, deleted it, written it again, deleted it, written it again, deleted it to write only a “hi,” and deleted that as well. The number of times your hand had hovered over the button and never pressed it. The number of times your feet had carried you to check if the light was on, and the way your heart hurt when it wasn’t. That was your bargaining phase. It lasted three days until it bloomed into depression.

You found yourself warming up the same cup of coffee six times a day. And you drank it from your least favourite cup. You were making food that you ended up not eating after all. You were confessing your sins to objects around the apartment. A lot of tears, very few showers, hair greasy for weeks.

Until, one day, you woke up with complete clarity—that when your eyes opened, you would find yourself in your own apartment, not Viktor’s. With a certainty that, beside you, your bed would be empty. And it would no longer be a shock that struck you like a slap. And you would no longer wake up from a dream in which you talked to him and be confused that he wasn’t there by your side. The derealisation would leave you, to settle in the grimmest phase of grief—bitter, heart-wrenching acceptance.

The last time you had tried to call him was three months ago. Barely two weeks after meeting Paul. Only to sigh and discover you were still blocked. There was one more time when you tried sending an email, but you cringed at the thought. How utterly crude, sending an email to his work mailbox. How utterly impersonal, how disrespectful.

And you thought you had been cured. That the only side effect of your three-year affliction would be an everlasting discomfort. The rest of it was something you had refused to touch. And now it had touched you. It had touched you through Viktor’s sad eyes, through his disappointed voice, through his hunch, through the crinkle in his shirt indicating that he debated whether to come to Mel’s birthday until the very last minute. And you were sure he wished he hadn’t come.

“I… I tried, Mel. He doesn’t want to talk to me,” you sigh heavily, an apology written all over your face. But Mel wouldn’t have it.

“Try harder. He was a friend before this. You were. We were all friends, and now Viktor barely says a word to Jayce because he thinks we’re taking sides.” Mel’s inquisitive eyes linger on you, and seeing you flinch at her last words, she adds, “Which we are not. We get it. Just… please.”

“Mel, he blocked me everywhere. For all I know, he’s also changed the locks.” Your voice cracks, and the thought of Paul lingering nearby and possibly hearing every word makes your face hot with shame.

Your friend sighs, her eyes softening. “Alright. Okay, I shouldn’t do this,” she says, glancing around to check if anyone could hear you. She leans in closer and hushes into your ear, “Jayce is meeting him next Friday at noon at the second-hand furniture shop. Viktor asked for help with transport.”

“And I’m supposed to crash their date? You think this will fix things?” You scoff, bewildered. It sounds like a particularly bad plot.

“I’m leaving the decision to you. And if something is stupid but it works, then it wasn’t stupid in the first place,” she states, placing two kisses on your cheeks. “Please don’t be a stranger anymore.”

“That I can do. The other… well, I can try,” you whisper, shielding it from Paul’s ears. Seeing you exchange goodbyes, he walks over and asks if you are ready. When you nod, he takes your hand and leans in to kiss Mel’s cheek. “Happy birthday.” Which also meant, “I know what it’s like to be in the drama and not be part of the drama.”

“My place or yours?” he asks as you walk sluggishly in the still unbearable heat of the night. “Uh… could we do both tonight? I’m… shattered.” What you mean is, “My mind is unsound. I’m afraid I’ll be crying all night, and I don’t want you to see it. I don’t want to make you feel horrible. Please let me be alone.”

Paul pauses momentarily, gives you a heavy sigh, though his tone remains warm. “Don’t you think it’s better to just… move on?”

You take a moment to stare. “Yes, um… that would be ideal. Though not so easy to do.” Your tone is very matter-of-fact since you used up most of your self-control to not shoot back, “You don’t fucking say.”

“Well, are you intending to? At some point at least?” he muses, playing with your fingers, his eyes low, fixed on his shoes.

“Paul, I mean—” you sigh, dropping your hand from his. “If there is a chance I can fix the friendship, I will cling onto it, you know this.” Your arms cross on your chest as you take one step away from him.

“No, I get it—I am friends with my exes,” he smiles, scratching the nape of his neck. “I just don’t think that little guy will make it so easy for you, is all.”

“Please don’t call him that,” you scoff again, growing annoyed and uncomfortable in the corner he’s trying to lure you into. “He is just hurt,” you manage to say, and it is mercy.

“I know what it’s like to break up, you know,” Paul says, having no idea what it was like to break up with Viktor. “And I get that it hurts. All I’m saying is that we only hurt as long as we don’t move on,” says Paul, having no idea how much love can hurt.

You sigh, shaking your head. Your mouth opens and closes into a fake smile as you give him a cold kiss on the cheek and whisper, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.”

Only when the door to your apartment slams shut do you allow yourself to breathe again. A couple of shuddering breaths, despite the heat. Cold hands and feet. Viktor’s arm beneath your palm. A millisecond in which it felt familiar to touch him. You feel the burn in your sinuses, and your mouth goes dry. Suddenly, you notice the agonising cold of your stuffy flat.

And when you finally manage to throw yourself into bed with a punched-out gasp, you keep lingering around Viktor. A harrowing thought blights your brain—one that you don’t dare speak aloud; you can only scream it into the void.

And you have no idea that Viktor is thinking about you as well, as he comes undone in someone else’s arms. And he imagines it’s your hands that bring him over the edge. And that it’s your hair he breathes in when he falls asleep. And he has the same harrowing thought that you have, but he doesn’t dare speak it aloud either.

[dahlibae]

hiii i really really love your writing and your blog!! it’s so so pretty <33. i also adore your mommy wanda :). some ideas! (as per your latest post)

I literally cannot stop thinking about coming home drunk to mommy wanda after being out with your friends, and being so so affectionate with her and wanting to kiss her all night. she wants to get you to bed because it’s late and you can be stubborn, and somewhere along the way you tell her you’re wet. just her undressing you and you sweetly showing her how wet you are and how badly you want her, even though you’re too drunk for sex. she tries to soothe you and cuddles you to sleep despite your whines and whimpers as you fight bedtime.

hii nonniee! ehh thank you, you’re so sweet hehehe. i love writing for mommy wanda so much, she’s just so kind and pwetty and lovin! :3

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

yes! to follow from your idea… you’d literally be like bambi, stumbling over your feet as you make your way into the house. wanda would notice your arrival and make her way down the stairs when she finally catches sight of you, and to her, you look sooo adorable! your cheeks flushed and eyes glassy from both alcohol and the cold night, as you struggle with an ice cream container, mumbling under your breath about, “how stupid it is to put lids on ice cream.” actually, she should be reprimanding you for trying to eat ice cream at this night. it was one of mommy rules… you can have only one bowl of ice cream a day before bed, and you already had todays before you went out. but she can’t help but laugh at your antics and when you finally notice her, you’ve suddenly lost all interest in the ice cream, placing it against the countertop along the way to run into her already open arms. wanda’s nose would crinkle at the smell of alcohol lingering on you and yet she’d still bury her face into the top of your hair, inhaling your scent - her own shampoo and conditioner - deeply.

“did you enjoy hanging out with your friends?” she’d ask, and you’d pull away slightly, reaching on your tiptoes with a small pout on your face as you lean in… clearly you were feeling not all that talkative and very clingy. wanda ofc wouldn’t be able to resist, and so, she’d place a chaste kiss to your lips before attacking your cheeks, and your nose, and your chin… and you’d step out of her grasp, your girlish giggles quickly becoming little hiccups, so she’d take the initiative to grab your hands, “cmon baby, let’s get you to bed huh?”

the move from the kitchen to the bedroom would be a bit of a blur for you, considering you managed to walk into the walls a few times… and wanda - failing to hold her laughter back - had to carry you the rest of the way. safely in your room, she’d try to put you down on the bed but you wouldn’t have it, clinging even tighter to the tall woman as you whined your dislike into the crook of her neck. she’d try to steady you, her voice soft but firm, telling you that, “it’s time for bed,” but you’re stubborn, leaning into her warmth, murmuring about how much you love her, how much you need her right now. you’d shiver, heat instead of the earlier cold now spreading through your chest, and somewhere in your rambling, you begin to tug at the waistband of your skirt, tugging the material down your legs as far as you could.

wanda obviously knew you were wet. she could practically feel you, your drenched panties doing nothing to protect you, but she knew now wasn’t the time... her baby needed to rest! and so, she managed to set you down, fingers working quick to undress you, and your touches grew more insistent, lips brushing against her jaw, your voice a sweet but needy whisper, telling her how badly you want her, how you’ve wanted her all night and can’t wait any longer. she’d hush you, hands warm and soothing as she tucks you under the duvet and a mountain of blankets, promising that, “you’ll have all of tomorrow to play with mommy.”

and despite your whines and little protests, she’d manage to get you settled, holding you close as you snuggle into her, fingers occasionally wandering, your lips pressing sleepy kisses to her bare skin. she’d stroke your hair, her voice soft, as she murmurs for you to go to sleep, her patience endless as she calms you with gentle reassurances. eventually, the warmth of her embrace and the soothing rhythm of her voice would lull you into a deep sleep. your stubbornness melting away as you finally surrender to rest in her warm arms.

[fayesia]

princess

stepdad!anakin x reader

warnings: nsfw 18+, dubcon, praise kink, daddy kink, fingering, overstimulation, bros a MUNCHHH

✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ ⎯⎯ ✦

Your book was left open by your head, after reading you had drifted off into a deep sleep, unaware of the quiet noises of your stepdad making his way to your room.

Anakin cautiously opened the door expecting to find you awake but instead he caught sight of your sleeping form. You were dressed in a light pink singlet outlined in lace and adorned in bows.

Your panties were the same style and he could see them peeking out from under your thin covers. He lightly padded towards you reaching his hand out to slowly pull back your covers. His eyes raked over your body, your nipples peaked through the thin material of your top from the cold temperature of the room and your panties left little to imagination as they outlined your pussy.

Anakin took a seat next to you, his calloused hands brushing against your soft skin, unknowingly causing you unrest. Opening your eyes you were met with the comforting warmth of your stepdad, normally people would feel quite uncomfortable with the idea of this happening…but you and Anakin weren’t like that.

“hey sweetheart, didn’t mean to wake you, just came to say goodnight.”

you smiled up at him, slightly blushing and unsure as to why this statement made you feel all warm and fuzzy, in one specific area.

“it’s ok daddy, like it when it’s just me and you” you admitted, covering your face as you felt it heat up.

Laughing anakin removed your hands, “don’t be shy baby, don’t hide from me”

there was a short silence, filled with the two of you making eye contact, bathing in each other presence, until anakin broke it.

“guess i should let you sleep huh? goodnight hun”

he went to get up until your hand reached out to hold his bicep, and god was it hard as a rock, briefly imagine that wrapped around your throat.

“please stay ani”

Anakin couldn’t resists the way you looked at him, the way you whined the nickname you gave him when you were 13, he wondered if that was the same face you would make if you were choking around his cock, your mouth covered in pre cum and spit, god he could feel his pants tightening right then and there.

“oh alright guess i could stay a while”

laying down next to you Anakin pulled you closer against him, your head resting against his chest with his arms wrapped around you. The two of you layed there for a while until Anakin’s hand came to rest on your upper thigh where your leg was laying across his hip. His thumb gently rubbed at your skin as you felt your lower stomach heating up. You started rocking back and forth hoping to satisfy the hunger you felt within you. Anakin raises his eyebrows noticing what you were doing against his thigh, his hand coming up to your hip gripping onto the flesh there, tensing his leg muscles he nestled himself further into core until you could feel your own juices soaking your inner thighs.

“please daddy feel so good keep going”

“mm baby you gonna cum for me just like that want you to make a mess on my thigh”

“mmhm yes yes please don’t stop gonna come daddy please”

you moaned out, pushing your forehead against Anakins chest as you came. His thigh was completely soaked and your baby pink panties were completely see through at this point. You were breathing heavily as anakin kissed your neck whispering the sweetest things into your ear.

“such a good girl aren’t you, sweetest little thing ever”

Kneeling between your legs he pushed your knees apart getting a clear sight of your panties which were completely soaked with your come, the material clung to your pussy like a second skin as his hand came down to lightly slap you. the noise of your wetness echoed around the room as you hid your face in embarrassment.

However you were quick to move your hands and grip onto anakins hair when he licked you over your panties, his tongue thick and flat against you as his eyes closed. He would never be ashamed to admit that being in between your legs had him ascending to heaven.

Grabbing hold of the waistband he dragged them down your legs til they were at your knees ultimately squishing your legs together and pushing them back almost folding you in half. You barely had time to breathe before he was dragging his tongue through your pussy, gasping out you felt immobile with anakin pushing your legs back. The filthiest sounds were coming from him, grunts and moans as he enveloped your clit with his mouth, the way your juices ran down into his awaiting mouth covering the lower half of his face and your thighs completely. You just couldn’t take it anymore, your throat had gone hoarse from screaming out Anakin and daddy as you felt things you never had before. Completely losing it when he rubbed at your clit with his thumb while simultaneously fucking your hole with his tongue. With a silent scream you released a whole new wave of juices that ran down your hole and onto anakins beautiful face.

“thank you daddy thank you so much”

crawling up from his position on the floor Anakins hand reached out to wipe the stray tears that fell down your flushed cheeks, mentally taking a picture to remember this moment the next time he had to do jerk off. His soft wet lips met yours, tongues swirling together as you tasted yourself on his mouth. He held your jaw in place pushing past your pouty spit covered lips with his thumb, eyes attentively watching you suck on it with the cutest look on your face.

“god, here i was thinking i could ruin you but how could anyone not be on their knees for you princess”

His arms pulling you into his once more until you had drifted to sleep and anakin returned to your mothers room as he heard the front door open.

✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ ⎯⎯ ✦

~unedited~

a/n: lmk if anyone would like a part 2 where anakin gets the justice he deserves !!

[typewritingyip]

The Arcturus Missions

Part Eighteen - Headaches

Part Seventeen

———

Copper, a surprisingly good conductor of heat and electricity. It’s used for building materials and in various alloys. It is used in wiring, plumbing, and industrial applications, such as mecha suits.

They are also used for a number of other applications, the metal is malleable and can be bent into ideal shapes for specific applications. It has antibacterial properties and is resistant to corrosion, it’s often used in the making of spirits. The heat applied is spread evening to the surface area and can heat the liquor evenly to make the process simple enough that it has been known to happen in military housing or on fronts.

Copper stills range in size and capabilities, able to make several types of liquor depending on the resources accessible to the user. They can make whiskey, though the aging process takes a considerable amount more time in separate barrels, than several clear liquors such as vodka, gin, and moonshine. All taking different ingredients and time frames.

Though distilling without a license is illegal in the United States, it doesn’t stop people from learning how to distill their own liquor and distilling in international territory depends on whose territory you are currently at host to.

—

The apartment was nearly cold and they were all out of their suits, Prowl had yet to make an appearance as he was still dealing with details down at central. For the moment, Hound was up in Breakdown's suit and had his tool kit with him. It had been moved from the Odyssey the first time one of them burst a line, the poor shuttle was getting less and less use the longer they were working with the Cybertronian’s. Breakdown was laying down in their makeshift bedroom, it was a platform with cots on it for them all in the bedroom, so the lights were turned down in there for him. Sunstreaker was watching Hound work, trying to take in the repairs and understand what he was doing, but unlike Hound who’d worked on military machinery before being a pilot the only experience Sunstreaker had was super-charging cars. Sure, there was some overlap but not nearly enough.

Hound swore and pulled his hand back, it was covered in oil from a burst line, though the glove he wore protected him somewhat, “Sonny, grab me that line clamp.” His hands were halfway into Breakdown’s shoulder by the time Sunstreaker handed over the clamp, “Fuck, I’ll have to get fluid for the system.” They worked like that, every few minutes Hound would swear and Sunstreaker would dive into the tool kit for something he needed, “I’m going to hold this piece back, you’re going to go in with the wrench to finish the repair.” Pausing, Sunstreaker looks up, “But, I don’t know how to repair a suit,” “And you’re going to learn cause my hands can’t reach the inner joint.” Sighing deeply, Sunstreaker adjusted his stance on the plating before going into the joint.

It took then a few hours to get the arm adjusted and recalibrated, Knockout did a great job but the lines needed to be redone in the spare material from earth, the cybertronian stuff just wouldn’t hold up to the suit's weight or stress.

Sideswipe comes out of the bathroom, groaning, “Are you two almost done up there? I want to head into Iacon Central.” Sunstreaker gives him a look, face streaked in oil and grease, “Sides, now is not the time. If we don’t get Breakdown’s suit repaired everyone will start to figure out what they're not supposed to.” He crossed his arms, frowning, “Well Prowl doesn’t want us going into town by ourselves, Jazz is asleep, and you two are more so breaking Breakdown’s suit.” Sunstreaker groaned and pulled away from the wires, pointing at his brother, “Just, hang on,” Shaking his head, Hound turned toward them both, “If you two are just going to bicker do it elsewhere. I need to focus.” Sunstreaker turned, “But Hound,” “Now Sunstreaker. If this isn’t repaired before our meeting with Joan— I mean the Prime, damnit, then they’ll insist that Breakdown goes to Knockout again.” Sunstreaker sighed slowly, “And he’ll actually run the scans this time,” “Only to find a tiny organic in his chest instead of the typical spark.” Sideswipe almost looked sheepish, almost, “So please, for the love of god, go argue somewhere else. But don’t disturb Breakdown.” Hound wipes a hand across his forehead, smearing the grease across it while he goes back into the repair. Leaving the twins glaring at each other.

—

Hound was the only one going to the meeting, Jazz was taking the twins into central Iacon just to shut them up for a klick or two and Breakdown was still resting though his suit was at least repaired. Hound had a pounding headache, once Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had stopped arguing they’d turned music on just low enough to not wake Breakdown but loud enough to grate at Hound’s migraine. Prowl had come to let them all know they were effectively free and Jazz had made quick work of cornering the twins, “Let’s go into Iacon Central, go to the market. Hey, there is a pretty cool upgrades place I think you two will love.” Sunstreaker had tried to argue but Sideswipe covered his mouth with a far to practiced ease, “Yead, that sounds great. Just the three of us hitting the town. We can get the stuff for our project while we’re out.” There was a moment of pause before Sunstreaker lout out the biggest and most dramatic sigh Hound had ever seen, “Fine, but only for the parts we need.” Jazz was grinning, which couldn’t be a good sign. His head was pounding.

”I worry I don’t even want to ask what you’re getting parts for,” Hound was back in his suit, rubbing his forehead as the twins to into their respective cockpits, “Oh don’t worry commander,” That was never a good sign, “This will be something we all can enjoy, after a few tweaks.” And that really wasn’t a good sign, “We’ll have to stop by the Odyssey for some stuff too Jazz.” Sunstreaker was the first up, stretching lightly while waiting on his brother, “Oh yeah, if we could get this stuff going tonight it would be perfect.” Hound’s head was throbbing and their conversation was not going to help ease it, Jazz laughed, “Yeah, we can stop in at the warehouse on the way back.” Sideswipe stood and started to usher the pair out, “Alright, don’t wait up. We’ll see you two sticks in the mud tonight.” The door slid open and shut harshly, as if they were able to slam a door like that.

Prowl stood there, staring after where the three of them went with a frown, “Should we be concerned?” “Definitely.” Sighing Hound moved around and grabbed the tablet that he’d been given when they landed, rubbing his face, “Is Breakdown joining us?” Shaking his head, Hound tucked the tablet into his chute holder, “No, I’ve ordered him to rest and last I checked he was sound asleep.” Prowl nodded slowly, frowning, “Will he be alright?” With a nod, Hound starts towards the door, “It’s a concussion, he just needs rest and time to heal.” “I don’t think Jazz has had a concussion before,” Prowl’s voice was tinted with concern, “Well, after you’ve had one you’re far more susceptible. The older suits, like Breakdown's, don't have all the same protections for concussive force.” He knocked lightly against his chest, “Or the same structure for the assistance suits. We have this guy, named Blur, he used to race back on Earth. he said it would be smart to put something called a HANS device in. Most of ours are attached to the piloting seat then clip onto our suits, Breakdown only got one installed before the mission.” Sighing a bit, Hound shields his eyes a bit as they go out into the hall, “It won’t stop everything, but it’s meant to help for impacts and things.” Prowl nodded slowly, watching before falling into step with Hound.

They walked together in silence, which Hound was grateful for, able to turn down his audio receivers for a bit before Prowl cleared his throat, “Hound, are you feeling alright?” He was thankful the mech kept his voice low, sighing as he nodded a bit, “Yes, Prowl. I’m alright. Just a headache.” Prowl’s steps slowed, he was frowning, “Do you want to postpone the meeting? I know that when Jazz gets headaches they can be helped with being in the dark and not in your suit.” Sighing, Hound shook his head, “No, no the meeting is too important to postpone. Plus, it could help with some of my headache. Once we’re there I’ll take something for it.” Nodding, Prowl fell back into silence, Hound smiled a bit, “So, uh, How are things with Jazz?” Prowl chuckled lightly, shaking his head, “I can see small talk carries over no matter the species.” With a shrug, Hound looks at him, “Well?” Prowl shook his head.

It didn’t take long to hear what though, “Things, as you phrased it, with Jazz are fine.” Hound hummed and Prowl almost whipped around, “I know that tone.” Laughing and holding his head, Hound held up his other hand, “You can’t answer the question with just rephrasing it on Earth, otherwise people will definitely think things aren’t fine.” Prowl sighed, rolling his eyes a bit to Hound’s amusement, “Then Jazz and I are doing well, certainly better than others.” There was a touch of tone there that Hound thought sounded like sarcasm but this was Prowl, nodding a bit, Hound cleared his throat a bit, “I take it you spoke with Mirage and found out what uh, a word that doesn’t translate is.” Frowning, Prowl shook his head, “What are you talking about?” At least you could count on Prowl for being the last one to hear the gossip, “Mirage and I were speaking on the shuttle back here, I mentioned being divorced—“ Prowl almost jumped out of his plating, “Which clearly translates to something horrible but it’s just the legal separation between two people on Earth, two people who were married but no longer want to be.” It took a minute for Prowl to be able to speak, “That word translates into the breaking and permanent separation of a joined spark,” He takes a breath, “It effectively would mean, for us, that your Conjux has since passed and that is an incredibly painful experience.” Nodding a bit, Hound sighed, “Yeah, I figured it was something like that. No, I was married young and it didn’t work out for a lot of reasons, but she’s not dead.” Prowl cracked a smile at that, nodding.

The sunshine made his head throb again, wincing a bit as he turned down the brightness of his visual feed. Prowl rested a hand lightly on his arm, “Are you sure,” “Prowl, this meeting needs to happen.” His steps stalled for a moment, “Why?” Hound sighed and glanced back towards the apartment building, “We need to rethink the structure of our team, right now if we continue the direction that we are, I doubt it’ll end well.” “Meaning?” Prowl was trying hard to keep his tone neutral, but Hound knew, “On Earth, pilots rarely work with other pilots, because we’re all stubborn and hardheaded. We don’t take orders well and the risk of death is high, the longer you work with another pilot the more connected you get and when they get hurt or worse it becomes harder to do the mission.” His hands clasp at his sides, taking a deep breath, “In the last two days we had one pilot try to kill a specialist and another got hurt, it will only continue to happen if we remain in the structure that we currently are.” Prowl was just staring at him, his eyes focusing and unfocusing, clearly running the statement through his tacnet. Hound waited, nodding his head slightly when Prowl looked at him and not through him, “That’s why this meeting is important, I need to discuss spreading out my team with Optimus Prime, a higher chance of survival and success for all of us.” Prowl bowed his head slightly, staring at the 97.6% in the corner of his own visual feed, the number that had been rising since their arrival.

Stepping onto the transport, Prowl fell silent again as Hound sagged into a seat, wanting to give him some relief to his migraine. In that moment, he could truly see the title commander written all over his plating, having seen both Optimus and Megatron fight these same internal battles over the years. Sidestepping slightly, he blocks the worst of the sun from Hound’s visual feeds, crossing his arms and guarding his friend from what little he could, either the sun or the stares of other Cybertronian’s.

—

Iacon Central was beautiful, it honestly reminded Sideswipe a lot of Miami and eased some of the homesickness. Though it was also staggeringly different, with the transformation lanes and flight-frames overhead buzzing the buildings every few minutes. It was thrilling and terrifying at the same time, him and Sunstreaker were following Jazz down the road, “We need copper, preferably copper tubing but still copper and an oversized cube.” Jazz looks over his shoulder, “What are you two planning?” Sunstreaker scoffs, “We. Aren't planning anything. He planned it and I’m going to build it.” Sideswipe clasped his hand against his twin's shoulder, “Oh come on, this was always the dream, we just have the space for it now.” Jazz’s visor darken slightly, “I don’t like that you’re using my apartment for unknown mystery projects.” Sideswipe comes up and throws an arm around his shoulders, “Jazz, I swear, you are going to love this. Now,” “Yeah yeah, copper tubing and a giant cube. I heard ya.” Sunstreaker sighed deeply, still dragging his feet a bit as they headed into the marketplace.

—

Autobot Central, now known as the headquarters of the primal vanguard, was massive and reminded Hound of some state capitals back on Earth. Not in the appearance really but in its grand scale. Prowl and him were climbing the steps to the main entrance, several guards standing out front stoic as statues though they opened the gate as they got to it, “Thanks,” Hound nodded to them slightly as they went through, Prowl nodding as well, “I have primary access.” That made a lot of sense. They had to climb more steps to the building, sighing a bit Hound followed Prowl up and inside.

The halls were massive, even by the standards of mechs it was huge, certainly bigger than any of the warehouses that Hound’s suit had been stored in. A few of the mecha that they passed were familiar but none were ones that Hound knew well. Prowl nodded to a few, keeping a low voice and telling Prowl who they passed, “That was Tracks, generally not friendly. That one is Swerve and no, I don’t know why he’s acting like he saw a ghost. He acts the same way around Jazz, and primus go this way.” He redirects Hound with a shove down a separate hallway, “If we ran into Starstream we’d never make it to the meeting.” Hound tried not to smile, nodding a bit, “Yeah, I know plenty of people like that back home.” They kept walking together though going quiet as the number of people dwindled the deeper they got into the fortress.

Ironhide stood outside the door, looking bored, “Took the two of you long enough to get here,” He smiles, “Everyone is inside, I’ll join you as soon as my replacement shows up.” Prowl nodded and scanned in for the door, letting Hound enter first.

Hound had seen this room over video several times but had never been inside, it was command, the main command that Prowl generally worked from. Looking to Prowl, who simply shrugged, they entered. There weren’t many people in the room, Megatron and Optimus Prime were sitting towards the front of the room, talking quietly with each other. Mirage was standing to the side with a mech that Hound didn’t know, Red Alert was on the command desk with another mech that Hound really didn’t know though had what was best described as a cat in his lap. There was a pink mecha stood to the side with a flight frame that looked a great deal like the Starscream that Prowl had insisted they avoid. Hound knew several seekers though and was at least vaguely familiar with the frame type, how they stuck to groups of three or trines, as well as what happened to the trine if one or more of them died. Optimus looks up and the smile reached his eyes, the room almost growing uncomfortably warm, “Hound, just the mecha we were waiting on, please come have a seat and once Ironhide is able to join us we can start.” Nodding a bit, Hound moved over and took a seat that looked the least comfortable, he could hear one mech sigh from relief before they took a different seat.

It didn’t take very long before Ironhide was able to join them, two other Seekers following him in before joining the blue one across the table from him, though one distinctly taking the seat near Megatron, Optimus nodded before sitting up, “Right, now that we’re all here we can start. Hound, I understand there is something you desire to discuss with us?” Nodding a bit, Hound pulled the tablet he had from his plating and set it on the table, “I want to restructure my unit, sir.” Everyone was watching intently now and Hound was far from a public speaker, “I think it will be best for the war and our joint effort.” Megatron tilted his head slightly, “How so?” Hound sighed slowly, “On Earth,” “You’re not on Earth, your on Cybertron,” And he suddenly understood why that mech was called Starscream, he winced slightly and turned the audio receivers down more, “On Earth, those of us found compatible are more often spread out across the planet to defend cities or regions.” Optimus nodded slowly, folding his hands, “Pilots, what we are called, we don’t work in units. We work with crews and teams in command, soldiers on the ground, but not other people who fight like we do. It’s too much of a liability, too much of a risk.” Megatron shifted in his seat, looking to Optimus, who held up a hand to let Hound continue to speak.

Shifting uneasily in his seat, Hound cleared his throat a bit, “With Breakdown getting hurt in the manner that he did, plus the disagreement between Sideswipe and Bluestreak, it’s becoming apparent to me that we need to be split amongst your units for the best outcome.” Starscream scoffed and several others looked around uneasily. Megatron was glowering, “As Starscream said, you are not on Earth, so why is it that your suggesting we follow the suicidal path that they had you on before?” Hound shook his head, pushing up off the table, “The last two days are only the start, it will continue to grow worse. When Breakdown got hurt it took two of us from the fight and if the others had been alerted it would have been all of us. It’s how we work, how we function.” Sighing, Hound picks up the tablet and offers it down the table, “I would suggest that we break up with mecha we’re familiar with and can work well with. This is what I would suggest.” Optimus takes it and quickly plugs the tablet into the table, bringing the files up in front of their eyes.

Megatron stared and set his jaw, “I don’t know how it is done on Earth, but we do not split up split sparks, ever. The fact that you rate suggesting it with your own kind.” Hound shook his head, “Being split spark is being two halves of the same whole effectively, from the moment that you are sparked. Well, it is not like that for us. Yes, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were born on the same day, within minutes of each other to the same creators but they aren’t connected in the same manner, they can be physically separated for a period of time with limited psychological distress.” Optimus rubs his forehead and a few of the mecha shifted uncomfortably, Hound cleared his throat uncomfortably, “Sideswipe attacked Bluestreak because of a misunderstanding dealing with his brother and it will only grow worse the longer that those three work together, but I think Sunstreaker and Bluestreak are well paired for this.” He took a breath, “It won’t be permanent, I think we should only be separated for around a quartex or so, then reevaluated.” Slowly sitting back down, he folded his hands a bit anxiously, Optimus was nodding slowly and looked over, “Prowl, your thoughts?” Prowl nodded and plugged a drive into the table, “Every fight, their risk of death grows while ours has decreased rapidly, if my projections are correct then their risk will fall while separated and ours should remain mostly unchanged.” Megatron’s fist collided with the table, no one flinched but Ironhide winced, “Damn.”

”It isn’t right and we all know it.” He was practically growling, Optimus sighed and shook his head, “We know Megatron, but what else is there to do with such poor projections?” They stared at each other, clearly speaking over comms as the others around the table started to whisper to one another. Hound shifted a bit, “We know that these smaller attacks are happening both on Cybertron and in Cybertronian space, sending all five of us to one location isn’t going to help those areas.” Prowl sat back, staring off in the middle distance, “They are the units which now are taking the heaviest losses.” Hound nodded slightly, sighing, Megatron looked up, “I want to maintain two of you for my unit, not the twins since you seem so dead set on separating the pair,” “Megatron,” Megatron waves Optimus off, “You and Breakdown will remain with me, since Knockout has taken such a likely to the mech, once he is healed he can join us.” Nodding, Hound scratched at his jaw a bit, “I think that is fair,” “Also, we are going to have Sunstreaker and Sideswipe in separate units but in the same detail.” Optimus leans forward slightly, “I can understand why you feel the need to separate them and they will spend their off time apart, but they work better together in the fight than not, I can assume.” Nodding again, Hound sighs, “And Jazz?” Prowl leaned forward a bit, “Will return to his speciality work, what he was doing before you all arrive. It gives us four speciality units instead of one without losing much.” Hound bit his tongue lightly and nodded, it wasn’t what he’d been asking for but it was certainly better than their current downward spiral.

Optimus nods and looks to the pink mecha, “Elita, I want you to take Sideswipe and Ironhide will take Sunstreaker,” He holds up a hand lightly, “I will be safe in Iacon without you Ironhide while we attempt to deal with situation at hand, I need you in the field with Elita and the others.” “But Prime,” “Would it make you feel better if I were to join you?” The chorus of nos was certainly enough to make Hound wince and lightly hold his head, Megatron was staring at him so he slowly lowered his hand, “I will have Soundwave and be in Iacon, if an attack were to happen here then you’d all fall back to this position regardless.” Hound could see why he was the leader, certainly, once everyone was quiet again Optimus nodded, “We will send out the orders when each team is to depart, but for now there isn’t anything in the nearest system. We will remain on alert,” He pauses before looking to Hound, “Hound, I apologize but now I do have to ask you to leave the meeting, we’ll be discussing planetary objections. Ironhide, Elita, Blaster, Red Alert, Mirage, Skywarp, and Thundercraker will join you.” The two seekers were the first up and out, already talking painfully loudly even as Starscream puts his face in his hands, “They are idiots.” There were a few chuckles as chairs scraped, “Here Hound, I’ll walk you out of headquarters.” Mirage stands and walks over, smiling to Prowl as Hound stands, “Thanks, this place looked like a maze coming in.” “It basically is,” Mirage smiled and started out of the room, Hound glanced toward Megatron and Optimus before saluting and following Mirage out.

Once they’d left the room, Optimus chuckles lightly, “It would seem many of our own continue to find the odd visored mechs, uh, appealing.” Prowl’s faceplates burned as Elita burst out laughing, a hand covering his mouth, even Megatron chuckled.

———

A/N

Considering I had the weekend to write, I will be honest and say I wrote most of this today even though I was very much lacking time.

To be fair, it would have been up around 30 minutes sooner if my room hadn’t caught on fire (it was actually the top of the chimney, and it was hardly a fire) but still.

Things are starting to pick up, the fall out of the next part is going to be very interesting for all included parties, muhahaha.

I also wanted to know if you’d guys want me to link the next part in the pervious post or not? I know I link the previous chapter but I wasn’t sure if after the next part is posted you’d want a link to the next one at the bottom. Or just a link to the masterlist maybe? Which will be getting a revamp very soon.

Tags!

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @childofprimus @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @dimencreasatlas @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974 @starscreamloverfr @halenhusky309 @leethepiper @cat-cassette @blue-wrens @sirassban @astridkolch @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @osqindaxend

And as always, thank you to the amazing @keferon for this amazing AU! (Sorry for the span in this, 18 parts is a lot)

[doumadono]

SINFUL SUNDAY!!!

Muzan humping a pillow at the thought of reader? Oml he'd make the best sounds.. asvbngfhm literally going insane

Hehe love your work by the way ❤️

SINFUL SUNDAY

Muzan had always been a man consumed by his desires.

His lustful cravings were insatiable, and he would often find himself wracked with need, his loins aching for a release that only the sweet embrace of another could provide.

His thoughts were often dominated by the most intimate and carnal of acts, and he would frequently find himself lost in fantasies of passion and pleasure. Tonight was no different.

As he lay in bed, he couldn't help but think of you - the mysterious yet mortal woman who had captured his imagination the moment you two met. The thought of you sent a shiver down his spine, and he felt his heart race with anticipation.

Muzan's hands began to wander as he imagined your touch touch against his cold skin. He ran his fingers over his chest, feeling the coldness beneath his fingertips. He let out a soft moan as he felt the heat of his own body, and his mind's eye saw your perfect lips curling into a seducing smile.

Although you were just a human, the demon lord took great pleasure in your presence. Your usefulness was apparent in various ways, leading you to become something of a plaything for him. Surprisingly, despite his desire to devour you, he chose to spare your life, recognizing numerous other purposes you could serve.

Unable to resist any longer, Muzan reached for a pillow and pulled it close. He closed his eyes and let out a deep, shuddering breath as he began to hump the pillow, imagining it was your warm body beneath him.

The sensations were overwhelming, and Muzan's breath came in short, sharp gasps. He could feel the heat building between his legs, and he knew he was on the brink of something truly magnificent.

He would begin by caressing the soft fabric, his long, razor-sharp fingers tracing delicate patterns upon the surface, a feather-light touch that sent shivers of anticipation coursing through his veins. His other hand would venture southward, cupping his swollen manhood through the fabric of his pants, stroking it gently as he imagined the pleasures you bestowed upon him many times before.

As he moved his hips faster and faster, Muzan let out a low moan. The sound was guttural and primal, and it echoed through the darkened chamber. He was lost in the moment, consumed by the pleasure that was coursing through his veins.

Grasping the pillow firmly, he would position it beneath him, the softness providing a stark contrast to the brutal strength of his own body. He would rock his hips, grinding his cock against the fabric, the sensation of the soft fibers of his pants against his sensitive, cold skin driving him to the brink of ecstasy.

Faster and harder he would hump, the scent of his arousal filling the air. His breath came in ragged gasps, his forehead slick with sweat as he chased the elusive release that lingered just beyond his grasp.

Just as he felt the first wave of pleasure wash over him, Muzan imagined your soft voice in his head. "Let go, Muzan-sama. Give in to the pleasure, let it devour you, my lord."

With a final, desperate thrust, Muzan reached his peak. He cried out, his body shaking as he released all of the pent-up tension and desire that had been building within him for a past few days.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Muzan was lost in the bliss of his own orgasm, and he didn't want it to end. But eventually, the waves of pleasure subsided, and he was left lying there, panting and spent.

As he opened his eyes and looked at the pillow, he couldn't help but smile. Putting it aside, the demon lord noticed a wet stain in his pants, and he licked his lips, touching it, feeling the slickness of his cum seeping through the material of the trousers. The thought of you, a mortal, had driven him to the brink of madness, and he knew he would never forget this moment.

Muzan lay there for a while longer, basking in the afterglow of his own pleasure. He knew that he would never be able to resist the allure of you, but he was more than okay with that.

[sunandflame]

Shards of Glass, Chapter 9

Summary: Kyojuro Rengoku, History Teacher on the Kimetsu Academy, is constantly having strange dreams about a Slayer who looks exactly like him. He thinks nothing of it until he recognizes a very specific person from these dreams and feels a very unique connection to her.

Pairing: History Teacher Kyojuro x Teacher Fem!Reader

Trope: Reincarnation / Sequel to Flame and Water (can be stand-alone)

Word Count: 3851

Warning: smut

Pinterest Board of Shards of Glass

Crossposted on AO3

Masterlist of Shards of Glass

“Could you take in two strays who were caught up in the rain?”

He looked at her in shock and immediately stepped aside to let her in, which she did. She was the last person he would expect here, but he wasn't expecting anyone at this late hour. He closed the door behind them and studied her, noticing how wet she was from the rain. Her hair stuck to her face and she shivered noticeably. Something black jumped out of her arm and immediately explored the area until the cat ran along Kyojuro's legs and purred at him.

So that was the second stray she was talking about. Kyojuro smiles at the feline and kneels on his haunches to pet the cat who is immediately smitten by him. The moment he looks up at Y/N his face turns serious as he rises up to clasp her arms in both of his hands. It’s obvious that something happened but he does not dare to ask, not now when she was shaken.  “You are freezing.” He rubs her arms to create warm friction. “How about you first take a shower while I make you some hot chocolate to drink?” Y/N nods with teary eyes and he leads her into his little bathroom.

~ ~ ~

The warmth of the water jet was a blessing to her chilled skin. She had surveyed the bathroom and had noticed how sporadically everything was arranged, as if he had just moved in here. She noted the two bottles that were on the floor of the shower and smelled them before using them. Amber and pine trees. An interesting combination, but one she had already smelled on him. She remembered the first time when his scent hit her nose as she stood close to him while they talked. She had to resist the temptation to move closer to him and sniff his neck, knowing how odd that might have looked. The fact that she now had the chance to use his shampoos and smell like him made her blush. Especially when she slipped into his hoodie and sweatpants after showering. She couldn't help but bury her nose in the soft material and sniff the soothing smell of Kyojuro.

She couldn't help but think of how he had looked at her earlier. His eyes wide in surprise. His golden-red waves that were in a messy bun. His white shirt that was so tight around his muscular pectorals, showing off the definition she never noticed before and oh god… Those gray sweatpants that sat so dangerously low on his hips. She felt the heat go to her head again and was about to jump back to take a cold shower, but this wasn't her apartment. She was only a guest. Y/N took a deep breath and looked into the bathroom mirror for a brush and combed her wet hair with it.

Shimizu purred and constantly rubbed against his legs as he prepared the hot chocolate on the stove. As he stirred the dark liquid with the spoon, several thoughts ran through his mind. What happened to her? Why was she outside at this time? Threatening herself with sickness? Why was she crying? Was she hungry? His thoughts were interrupted as he saw a figure from the corner of his eyes.

“She seems to like you a lot.”

Kyojuro turned to her and saw her standing at the door frame. His clothes were definitely too big for her, her eyes still puffy from crying and yet she looked beautiful. To see her in his clothes like this stirred something deep inside him and he felt his cheeks growing warmer. “Yes, it seems like it. I like her too.” He looked down at the feline with a smile and reached down to scratch her under her chin. “Just make yourself comfortable on the couch. I will come in a minute and then we can talk. If you want.”

She nodded and seated herself on his couch. Kyojuro seated himself next to her and handed her the cup. “Here, this should warm you up.”

With a grateful nod she took the cup and sipped on the hot chocolate. He didn't know why, but he watched her closely as she closed her eyes in pleasure, running her tongue over her upper lip. “Delicious…” she sighed out and gave him a smile. “Thank you very much, I really needed that.”

“You are welcome. If you need anything else, let me know.” He smiled back at her.

“Thanks, but I think the hot chocolate should be enough for now.” She took another long sip and remained silent. Kyojuro didn't know what to say either. What was he supposed to say anyway? She was the one who came to him drenched from the rain with troubles weighing on her shoulders.

The silence became more oppressive until Shimizu jumped between the two of them and meowed very loudly. They both looked at her in surprise and then started to laugh. “I’m sorry Shimizu, I should have offered you something too.” He got up and the feline followed him immediately. He put a bowl with water and some cooked rice that he had from the day before and watched how she started to eat. As his gaze turned back to Y/N, he saw her staring at a picture that was on the drawer. He went there and gave her the frame. It was a picture of his family.

She picked it up reverently and looked at it closely. “Senjuro and you took after your father. It’s like he copy-pasted himself.”

Kyojuro’s smile turned nervous as he scratched the back of his neck. “Yes, the Rengoku genes are actually very strong. This hair color goes back to the Sengoku-era.”

“Really?” She looked at him in surprise and chuckled. “I need to confess something. The first time I saw your hair, I thought that you dyed the tips red, but then I met your little brother in one of my classes and realized that it must run in your family. I always wondered if it was your father or mother.” Her gaze went back to the picture and her smile softened. “Your mother is so beautiful.” 

“Yes she is…” But his eyes were not on the picture, but on her. How she held it carefully in her hands, as if she knew how important it was to him. She put it carefully back and sat down on the couch, her smile dying out slowly. 

Her gaze became distant while she tightly grabbed her mug. Kyojuro was visibly concerned, still debating if he should ask her what happened. The silence did not make the situation better as the worst scenarios were going through his head until he decided to finally ask her. 

“Y/N… Why were you running so late outside in the rain? Did something happen…?” He didn’t dare to finish the sentence.

“Everything is fine…” She gave him a smile to reassure him, but this smile didn’t reach her eyes. 

He scrunched his forked eyebrows. “You are a bad liar.”

Now she couldn’t hold it back any longer and started to laugh. While she laughed, he was able to hear her pain and the tears that she was not able to shed anymore. “But probably still better than you.”

Now he couldn't help but smile at the inside joke that had developed between the two of them. “Y/N you know that you can talk to me, right? You are my friend and my confession didn’t change that fact..”

You are my friend.

I love you, Y/N.

Those words still lingered in her mind. "Kenji and I… We were fighting a lot the past week. The fights became bigger and bigger..." She finally spoke.

"He did not-" Kyojuro was assuming the worst.

"No, no," she immediately corrected him. "I... broke up with him..." She was still not looking at him. 

Kyojuro was surprised and he should be sad about hearing this. A break up, especially if someone had been together for such a long time, must be painful. He remembered how heartbroken he always was in his past break ups. A long silence occurred before Kyojuro decided to open his mouth. "I am sorry to hear that."

She put the mug on the table and leaned back to turn her head to him. "Are you really, Kyo?"

His eyes were now fixated on her plump lips that called his nickname so seductively. So inviting... imploring even. But he stopped himself before turning his golden red hues onto her eyes. "No, I am actually not." 

Was it her who came closer or was he moving towards her? He really shouldn’t do it. He really shouldn't take advantage of her in this situation. The air was filled with tension, the longing was in both of their eyes. 

“Kyo…” Her lips were whispering his name, waiting for him to finally make a move. Fuck it, he thought to himself and took her face in both of his hands and kissed her. Their lips clashed together and something inside them was like ‘finally’. As if his soul had been waiting for it over 100 years and was so desperate for her. The kiss turned hungrier and the sensation was so exhilarating that it strictly stirred his cock, which already started forming a tent in his gray sweatpants. 

It didn't make it any better when she grabbed his hair and desperately pulled him closer so that he fell on top of her. His hardened dick pressed against her. Only the thin layers of fabric separated them, but not preventing the delicious friction that made them both moan into the kiss. “Kyojuro…” Her voice is so whiny and desperate for him that it evoked something primal in him. 

Kyojuro felt as if a flame had ignited inside him, a flame that had been smoldering from the moment he first laid eyes on her. Now it was burning bright, consuming any lingering doubts and restraint he had left. He eagerly kissed her back, his tongue exploring her mouth while his hands gripped her waist tightly. His lips didn’t leave hers as his hands wandered down to her waist and hips. “Not here.” He was not sure if he said that more to himself than to her. It did not matter as he quickly stood up and grabbed her waist, to pick her up. Y/N immediately wrapped her legs tightly around him, kissing his lips, jaw, neck and everywhere else she was able to reach. That elicited a groan from him, making him dig his fingers into her thighs, where he was holding on desperately. It was hard to focus and if he didn’t have an ounce of self control he would have simply fucked her against the wall. However, this was their first time together so he opted to carry her into his bedroom.

Once in his room he draped her slowly onto his bed, his mouth wandering from her lips to her neck where he sucked and kissed the sensitive skin, eliciting all those sweet sighs and moans from her. He moved away from her, his body hovering over hers, to take a little to look at her. Again the sight of her in his clothes just made his heart clench in a way he never expected. His hands roamed over her body and pulled the hoodie over her head. He stared longingly at her bare breasts. Her nipples were already hard and eagerly pointing at him as they begged him to suck on them. He couldn’t take his eyes from her, before he snapped out of it as he realized that she was blushing under him. “Gods… You are so beautiful…” Murmuring words that were so familiar, creating a flashback in the back of his mind where he had said something like that before, but that didn't matter. What was important was that they were both here in the now.

There was something so intimate about being laid bare in front of him, seeing the desire and admiration in his eyes as his hands roamed over her body. Her blush deepened under his words, and she gently pulled his head down towards her chest. “Kyojuro… Please touch me…” She wanted his touch, nearly burned for the sensation his warmth gave her. He didn't need to be told twice and lowered his head down to take her nipple into his mouth, circling the hard peak with his hot tongue. The sudden shock of his touch sent waves of pleasure through her body and made her lower lip quiver. Her gasp only spurred him on further. His hand moved down to her waist, sliding under the fabric of her sweatpants to caress the sensitive skin there. He could feel how wet she was through the fabric, and the thought of it made him harder, if that was even possible.

He could feel the growing need to be inside her, to feel her from the inside, and the realization that they were on the same page seemed to fill his mind. He watched the response from her body and how she writhed under his touch. Those gasps and moans that he so craved; he wanted her to make more of those sounds. More, more, more… His hand on her waist began to slowly pull her sweatpants down, revealing more of her skin. His eyes roamed over her body, taking in every inch of her naked form. It was like being mesmerized by the most beautiful work of art in the world, and yet, it was the fact that this beauty was his to experience, to explore, that made it so much more intoxicating. 

He began to slowly undress himself as he watched her beneath him on his bed. His gaze was like a physical touch, as if he was already trailing his fingers over the skin he could see. He wanted to make her feel just as wanted and worshiped, as he continued to slowly strip, revealing his toned body. She couldn’t take his eyes off him. His hand moved down and gently caressed her inner thigh, the touch gentle yet possessive.

"Gods, you are so beautiful."

He could hear how she gasped as his mouth moved down her body, and the sound of her voice only made his body react more to her. He lifted his head a bit, looking at her flushed face, and watched her lips part as she took a deep breath while he spread her thighs apart. He could already see her glistening folds, so beautifully exposed to him. The sight sent a wave of desire through his body, and he had to take a moment to gather his own self-control as he leaned down closer, his breath ghosting across her sensitive skin.

“So beautiful," he echoed, his voice thick with need, "I want to taste you…"

Without giving her time to respond, he lowered his mouth to her core, his tongue swiping across her sensitive flesh in one slow, languid motion. The taste of her was so sweet, so intoxicating, that it took all his self-control not to just devour her right then and there.

As he continued to lavish attention on her, he felt her hands in his hair, gripping and tugging at the strands. The pain and pleasure of it only added to his own arousal, and he groaned against her skin.

"You taste so sweet…" he whispered, "I need more."

He continued to explore every inch of her, his lips and tongue relishing the sweetness and warmth of her body. As he listened to her moans increase in volume, he intensified his efforts, his tongue moving with more purpose and pressure, trying to draw out as many of those delicious sounds from her as possible. And with each lick and stroke of his tongue, he felt her legs shaking and trembling. He could tell how close she was to the edge, and he kept going, determined to bring her over that precipice. Her gasps and moans fuelled him as he worked his mouth between her thighs. He wanted to make her scream his name, to hear her come undone beneath his touch.

As her moans grew louder and more desperate, Kyojuro knew she was nearing her climax. He continued his assault, not letting up, determined to push her over the edge. He felt her thighs tremble and constrict around his head as she neared her release.

"Let go, my water lily" he murmured against her skin, not knowing where the pet name came, "Let me hear you come…"

And as if it was a command she cried out his name, pulling at his soft golden locks. “Kyojuro!” His heart nearly stopped as her voice, screaming his name, filled his ears. He could feel her body tense and shudder as she came, the sensation of her fingers in his hair sending a jolt of satisfaction straight to his core. He continued to gently lick and suck at her, drawing the orgasm out as long as possible until she finally collapsed back against the bed, completely spent.

He slowly pulled away, his lips and chin glistening with her juices. He stared down at her, admiring the sight before him, the view of her trembling body and flushed skin. The beautiful sight of her coming undone because of his efforts, all because of him. It filled him with a sense of pride… and an overwhelming need for more. "So exquisite…" he murmured, his eyes skimming every inch of her body. The sight of her, so undone by his touch, was enough to make him throb with desire.

He moved up her body, his lips moving along her stomach and over her chest until they found her mouth. He kissed her gently, letting her taste herself on his lips and tongue. His body was still throbbing with yearning, and he was fighting hard not to just push himself into her right then and there. But it was not him, but her who took the initiative. The feeling of her legs wrapping around him instantly spread an unsung fire through his body. He leaned down and his lips found the skin of her neck, kissing and sucking on the sensitive spot behind her ear. His hands roamed over her figure, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its track. He groaned into her skin as his hips involuntarily ground against hers.

"I… need you, now," he whispered huskily.

He could feel the slickness of her against his stomach, and it only increased his need to be inside her. He shifted slightly, his hands gripping her hips tightly, and lifted himself up to position himself between her thighs. His eyes locked with hers as he slowly pushed his cock into her, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he held himself back. The sensation of her tight, warm walls surrounding him was almost overwhelming. He buried his face in her neck groaning how perfect she felt. As he slowly started to move his hips, he felt as if he was losing his mind. The feeling of being inside her, having her completely at his mercy was almost too much to handle. He leaned down, his lips finding her neck as he nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin. He was lost in a hazy fog of ecstasy, the sound of her moans and gasps in his ear driving him to go deeper, faster.

His own control slowly slipped away as the pleasure consumed him. His hands roamed over her body, touching and exploring every inch to memorize the feel of her flesh underneath his fingers. He lifted her legs around his waist, getting a better angle and the new position drove him even deeper into her. And he continued to thrust into her, the pace and force increasing with each movement. He was completely lost in the moment, his mind completely overtaken by the pleasure of feeling her completely. His lips found her neck once more and he nipped and sucked at her pulse, leaving behind a trail of love bites in their wake.

Mine… his mind whispered fiercely, possessiveness creeping into him.

As he continued to dominate her with his body, he could feel her tremble and quiver under him. The sounds of her moans and gasps, the feeling of her body's response to his touch, it only fueled him to go harder, deeper. He could feel himself nearing his limit, the mounting pleasure becoming nearly unbearable. His breaths were labored as he tried to hold back his release, continuing to move his hips with each deep stroke. But the way she felt, her skin against his, the sound of her gasps and moans in his ear… it was too much.

"I'm… close…" he panted, his grip tightening on her hips as he tried to hold on just a little longer.

He could feel her body tightening around him, clenching and gripping him as if she was desperate to keep him inside. It was an incredibly delicious sensation that only added to his mounting pleasure. With each powerful thrust, the coiled heat within him grew stronger and more intense.

"I'm gonna…" he gasped, "Oh Gods… I'm gonna come…"

“M-Me too..!”, she cried between her moans as he felt her tight grip on him. Her voice sounded so desperate, needy and it was all it took for him to lose any remaining control he had.

He leaned down and his lips found hers, his tongue delving between hers, tasting her moan as he pushed himself deeper into her one final time. With a low, guttural groan he let go and succumbed to the pleasure, his body shuddering as he came hard, releasing himself inside her. He held himself there as the release hit him, his body shuddering and tensing as waves of ecstasy washed over. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breaths ragged and unsteady as he slowly came down from his high.

He collapsed on top of her, his body trembling with exhaustion and satisfaction. They lay there for a few moments, both of them trying to catch their breath and come back down to earth. He nuzzled his face into her neck, pressing soft kisses to her flesh as he tried to form words. But it was not possible. They simply stared at each other, her hand roaming over his face and pushing a blonde strand behind his ear. 

A profound, unspoken connection flowed between them. Their eyes locked in a gaze that spoke volumes more than words ever could. They marveled at the raw intimacy they had just shared, a sense of wonder filling the space between their breaths. Still panting from their lovemaking, their hearts seemed to beat in unison. Their shared silence was suddenly broken by soft laughter, a tender, joyous release that bubbled up from the depths of their souls. The giggles were not just amusement, but a shared acknowledgment of the beauty they had found in each other. 

A/N: Hello, my sweethearts! Who would have thought this story would ever get an update? (Not me!) I know it’s been a while, and I’m deeply sorry about that. Everyone who has been following me knows that I’ve been going through some real-life stuff, but things are getting better. I’ve been constantly thinking about this story and how much I love the plot I’ve built here, and I don’t want to disappoint anyone. But forcing myself was a big no-no, which is why it took so long. Again, I’m really sorry, and I hope I can make it up with this smutty smut. Since there’s no regular schedule for this story, please reply if you want to be tagged or not. Much love, your (Mommy) Sunny <3

Taglist: @flametrashira @mamayan @love-me-satoru @camilo-uwu @genshinsimpforlif @curlyblaze @oggy4god

[acerathia]

novae || Xiao

Summary:

nova: a star that ejects some of its material in the form of a cloud and becomes more luminous in the process

The souls filled with karma find relief under the touch of your skin. Yet, you've never tried to cleanse anyone, not since you've gained your freedom. Until the one you're indebted to asks you to help a certain Adeptus. And who are you to refuse?

Wordcount: 4.6k

Read on AO3

Pairing:

Xiao / Reader

Tags/CW:

reader is an adeptus, implied to be an electro user, flashbacks to the archon war, slight deception by healing xiao, slowly falling in love, giving him flowers, making him food, confessions, both love and others, indirectly though, promises to stay

Note:

I lack human contact waow,,, sorry for the repost, accidentally deleted it whoops

Everything hurt, soreness laying a thick coat over your very being. You’re barely able to feel your fingertips, only the tingling at their base assures you of their continued existence. Tongue darting you, you lick at your chapped lips, trying to ignore the dryness in the cavity of your mouth itself. But even your tongue feels barren, your attempt futile. Your skin feels like it’s going to crack the moment you dare to move, so you lay still, wishing for a mere drop of water to fall upon you, to let you relish in its spirit of life. This feeling of helplessness makes you wish you were dead. Yes, death. Something to truly free you from your suffering. Yet, your own body shackles you in your immortality; left with no choice but to let yourself rot without any perceptible changes. The rot only you can feel, the rot only you can accept and take. A blessing turned curse. Like any old fairy tale. But you doubt that you’re going to have a happy end. Not with the ravage happening outside.

At least that’s what you think it might happen outside, stuck in the darkness, a cave with no escape. A prisoner only used for your essence only to be tossed aside once your use has expired, but never freed, never let go. Being in the palm of their hands feels like the cold ground underneath you. Unwelcoming, hard, a chill to your bones, and a constant ache.

You barely remember how much time you have spent in this prison, shadows swallowing everything you could use to discern the passing of the passages of time. You barely remember the first days of your stay; filled with fights, heat, resistance. You barely remember, but your body certainly does, clamping up at the mere roughness of someone, at every instance someone raises their voice, no matter the reason.

Suddenly, some dust flutters down, freed from the ceiling far above, only to get inhaled by your lungs. A cough wracks your body, and with every contraction it feels like a piece of you is going to splinter and break away. The tiny vibrations, once not perceptible and instantly there, are shaking you to the core. And you knew what’s going to happen shortly, what they’re going to do to you once again. With every visit you are left with more pain, with more nightmares, with less life. Yet, this is the only way for you to survive, even if involuntarily. As long as you were of use to them, they weren’t likely to get into the mood to rid themselves of you. Not that they cared about your existence beyond what you could offer them. As long as you pleased them. And never do they offer you anything in return, leaving you hollowed, cracking yet filled with vitality beyond what you desire.

The trembling grows into a rumble, the ground shaking as rock scrapes against rock. They’re here. And they’re going to give you their pain, the alienations they’re suffering from, pushing them into you to get rid of all their own suffering. And you can’t help but be curious why. What is going on outside your isolated cave for them to come back on the brink of their eternal sleep?

You turn your head slightly towards the opening of the cave, even if the spraying light might blind you, might warm you, you try to take a peek outside, as you do every single time with no avail. But this time, this time you’re facing something much brighter, a different figure towering over the entrance. His eyes are glowing a bright ember. And suddenly, a feeling of safety envelops you.

*-*

Sunshine warms your skin, flooding your sight underneath your eyelids with a bright peach orange. A groan escapes you, as you try to shut your eyes even tighter, but the effort of ridding yourself of the light is simply not worth it. So, you slowly open your eyes again, only to be greeted by the almost red leaves swaying with the breeze. Some of the leaves freed themselves, slowly traveling down towards you. And you stretch out your arm to catch one, yet, despite its close proximity, you miss your chance, and the leaf continues on its journey, only to be joined by the wind.

With a silent thud, you let your arm fall back down. With your eyelids fluttering, leaving your vision blurry and unfocused, you simply watch the intricate dance of the wind, only visible by the twirls of the leaves around it. There’s no need for you to move, no reason at all. Your motivation to go around your day to day life does not exist. Even if you have responsibilities, ones which do not matter in times of peace, reducing their importance to nothing but ashes of the past. Being made an adeptus amounts to nothing after all. And you’re not someone who desires to sniff out the affairs of others, to simply have something to do. Just doing nothing is enough for you, being free to do so is enough for you. That’s your mindset; as long as you’re free, nothing truly matters.

That’s at least what you’re trying to tell yourself. But the moment a rich voice, one all-too familiar, sounds from underneath the tree you're sitting on, you immediately jolted into an upright position, your eyes scanning the table down below. Your first thought is that you might be experiencing some kind of hallucination, but then you remember that you would have noticed any influence on your mind and body. Still, you can’t believe your eyes. It’s almost like a memory came to life. Amber eyes, a brown ponytail, and the same tea he’s always sipping on.

A chuckle. “Good morning, my dear. May I inquire why you have been neglecting your responsibilities?”

Startled, you want to immediately jump down and to make sure that everything before you is real, but you feel a weird coldness on your face and you lead your fingers to your cheeks. Wetness. One sticking to the corners of your eyes, almost dry tracks running down your skin; and your eyes flicker. Have you been crying? There’s no reason for you to cry.

You furrow your eyebrows as you scrub the remnants of whatever happened in your sleep away. Glancing back down, Rex Lapis is still there, waiting for your answer with incredible patience, one that should be unaccustomed to you, his rage and short temper something you got acquainted with the moment you first met him.

Yet, you’re thankful for his patience as you finally make your way down to him, taking a seat on the other side of the table. And then you rest your head on your palm, elbows on the table, body leaning dangerously to the side.

“Good morning, Rex Lapis. Well, I’ve gotten used to not following any responsibilities, you see, not a bit of motivation in my bones. Surely you must understand that, Sir.” Your eyes flutter and stay heavy lidded, even if your heart is beating much too loud in your head.

This is Morax, Rex Lapis. The One who Strikes Deals. And you reckon you have a certain deal with him, even if he never was one to ensure your part to be fulfilled. Now he comes to collect.

A sip of tea. A moment of silence. You peeking at him from between your eyelashes. His cup returns to the small plate with a clink similar to a bell, making you shiver.

“Well, I suppose I do. Yet, a broken contract has consequences, and you are very well aware of that, yes?”

His gaze upon you is soft, a glint akin to the warm sunshine, nothing like the blazing fire that once occupied his mind. You swallow, pulling your shoulders closer to your ears. Morax doesn’t need any answer, he simply continues.

“Then, you shall go to Wangshu Inn. Once you have arrived you will know what to do.”

Immediately, you straighten up, nodding your head, only to bow before him the moment you’re back on your feet. Your heart is still beating, yet your worries ease at his soft voice, not a hint of malice to be felt. Rather, it almost seemed like Rex Lapis is plotting something and he’s only planning to watch you from afar.

But that’s okay, as long as you don’t land in another cave, darkness swallowing you whole, or be abandoned by the one who saved you, you will gladly accept anything he asks of you, anything he obeys you to do. As long as you can stay by his side, content and accepted.

With light steps you begin to jump down the mountain, following the flow of the water towards Jueyun Karst, only to continue following a path between mountain ridges, leading you over water and towards open plains. You’re thankful for the open view, as you are able to discern Wangshu Inn in the distance, keeping your feet onto the path leading up to it.

Arriving at the small island, you take a moment to simply stare, admiring the height and the life bustling around this small place. Only after a while do you continue your travel, climbing towards the inn in a couple of small jumps.

The reception is almost equally filled with noise as the ground below, yet you fail to see the actual reason Morax has sent you to this place. But you can’t return without anything. So, you continue exploring the space, peeking into the hot kitchen, the smell of freshness mixing with spice, discovering the guest rooms, until you uncover the terrasse, one empty of the crowd down below.

There are no signs forbidding entrance, and nothing to stop you from stepping closer to the railing. The soft breeze caresses your face and you breathe out.

But before you could release any tension properly, you feel a shiver down your spine and you spin towards the source. The source of the pressure you’re all-too-well acquainted with; one of hatred and pain. Your breath catches in your lungs, phantom cracks ripping through your joints.

Only to face another, not a human but an adeptus, and something more. Teal frames his soft features, making the gold in his eye pierce through your being. You swallow. An illuminated beast stands in front of you, one taking the form of a human. And this can only make him one thing: A Yaksha.

You know him, or rather, you know of him. The last of his kind, the Conqueror of Demons, and equally haunted by them. Despite his calm appearance and the small frown on his face, he is dripping with karmic debt, and you realize why Rex Lapis has sent you to this place, to the Conqueror of Demons.

And you ought to be angry, to be scared to go through everything once again, to be hurt. Of being sapped of life and filled with evilness only to get thrown away like a puppet without strings. The bitter taste sneaks down your throat, a memory now non-existent.

“You, what do you seek in this place?” his voice brings you back to your current situation.

The words are rough, guarded, yet his voice has a soft quality, akin to silk against your skin, and you blink a couple of times, imagining him calling you by your name, in another tone. You almost forget to answer, but his sheer presence and its fluidity, easy to go as it came, reminded you once again of what you had to do.

You take a step closer, a slight bow to show your respects towards the Conqueror of Demons, and you introduce yourself, sharing your name with another with a name of the same origin. You wait, but nothing happens, he doesn’t tell you to hide away. So, you continue, straightening yourself to meet him eye to eye; only to notice the sparkle in his eyes as the soft glow of the sinking sun stows itself in them.

“I’m honored to meet you, Conqueror of Demons. Rex Lapis has sent me to this place, presumably to stay by your side for some time.”

His frown deepens at your words, and his body turns away the slightest bit, as if his senses are telling him to refuse and be done with it. But his mind seems to be aware of the person standing behind you, pushing you towards him with a plan bigger than any of you. Two adepti with a debt towards the generosity personified; yet it can never be enough to pay the price of life, of freedom.

Despite his reluctance, you begin to notice how your mere presence is alleviating his burden. That means that his senses and mind might be at odds with each other, yet his body is experiencing relief with you by his side. You don’t know how to feel about it, about manipulating his burden against him, even if unintentionally.

You don’t get enough time to properly stew with the possible consequences of your actions, but at the end of this, you had no real choice, did you? Who are you to defy orders from your savior? Using your abilities on a stranger, as renowned he might be, is something you have to take upon yourself to relieve your own debt.

A huff. “Fine, if Rex Lapis has told you to accompany me, then you shall do so, but stay out of my way,” he warns you, before disappearing with the next flow of wind.

The tips of your fingers crackle as small bits of electricity jump between them. A sigh; a stretch of fingers and joints. He might have thought this move would throw you off his tracks, yet he seems to have forgotten that despite your lacking, you still are an adeptus. So, it doesn’t take long for you to discover his prints of zapping electricity, flowing with each move, each thought. A system so similar to everyone else, yet different in the way it exists, processes, responds; one you’re bound to know like you know yourself.

With his position in mind, you begin your journey towards him, your speed not up to par to his when he’s one with the wind, yet consistent enough to catch up to him eventually. The open plains make traveling easier, too.

Easier to see, as you discover plums of darkness hovering over a certain area, only to vanish as something cuts through them. Picking up your speed, you hurry towards the battleground of the lost and the grudges. Yet, despite being there, you could not act, could not help, your body not owning any techniques to fight. All you could do is wait, wait and pick up the pain and pieces.

The shadows vanish and leave only the ickiness of being haunted by the past behind, with the bitter taste of a promise to return. You step towards the only living being in between all these nightmares from another era, shoulders slumped and breath heaving.

You want to call out to him, but it doesn’t feel right to use his name or to use his title, so you just– “It’s me…”

Licking your lips, taking a breath, waiting and waiting and waiting, but he doesn’t refuse your presence, and you step closer slowly, softly, ignoring the stickiness around you, focusing on him and his unfocused gaze upon your silhouette.

Carefully, you put your arms around him, helping him walk towards another space, free from the tarnished souls seeking to taint in return. With your support he sits under the shade of a tree, back against the trunk, heavy and uneven.

You murmur a quick apology, as you settle in front of him, almost too close, to let your fingertips come into contact with his shoulders. A breath, in sync. Buzzing, in your veins, and slowly you notice the tension release in his body as the pain leaves him. A hiss, too silent to be heard, as the karmic debt, his unending burden, and pain, seep into your bones, creaking and whistling. A familiar sensation. A sensation too familiar it seems, because your body starts doing its job, breaking everything down, crumbling it into nothing, leaving you with a phantom of an ache.

After you have taken what you could, you slump to the side, laying down onto the soft grass, and the breeze reminds you of your place, and despite the tension and the spasms filling your body, you smile.

Glancing towards the Conqueror of Demons, you notice that his body has sunk in itself, muscles finally releasing the tension of suffering. And for a moment you both stay laying like this, side by side, one digesting and ridding yourself of the pain, the other relishing in the newly acquired freedom.

Maybe this is the starting point of his trust towards you, lending him a hand when needed the most, but that doesn’t matter, as another moment has a place in your heart, in his heart, too.

Since that first fight, you have been trailing behind him, staying on the sidelines as he fights the anger and hatred left behind, waiting for the end so you can patch him up, using your own abilities to heal whatever injuries he might have sustained. All while slowly cleansing him of his karmic debt with each touch, each skin to skin, with each bit of distance closed.

Sometimes you greet him with some stuff you have collected as you wandered around. Showing him glittering shells and shiny, smooth gemstones. There is even a moment, when you have collected flowers, climbing and singing to get your hands on them, to hand a bouquet to him after his fighting and healing session is over.

“This is for you, Conqueror of Demons!” you grin as you hold them towards him, excited to see his reaction to yet another present.

And your arms slack, the flowers sink, at the sight of his frown, one you hadn’t seen since your first encounter. You press your lips together, trying to think what you had done wrong this time, opposed to every other surprise.

“It’s Xiao,” he tells you, voice soft, careful, guarded in some way, yet desperate for something, something more.

And you smile. “Yes! This is for you, Xiao!”

A slight blush spreads over his cheeks, dusting him in a lovely shade of a late afternoon sun, and the Conque– no, Xiao takes them with slow movements, tips of fingers touching and tingling, mindful of the delicateness of the flowers, aware of the too-soft connection, one with no real reason but to simply, touch.

Feeling the heat spreading over your skin, you grab a single flower, pulling your fingers away in the process. You look at the flower, a Qingxin and you slowly twirl it. Glancing back at Xiao, his own eyes are focused on the small bouquet in his hands. So, you make use of the little distraction and lean forward to tuck the flower into his hair, secured by his ears.

Of course, he has noticed you move and your eyes meet, faces close, your fingertips grazing his cheeks, and you’re grateful gravity pulls you back into a sitting position the moment you feel yourself freeze. Still, you give him a smile, even with the warmth covering your skin and his intense gaze.

The moment didn’t last long, as a cold feeling rained on your senses, alarming you of yet another gathering of negativity. And Xiao isn’t one to forgo his responsibilities for mere companionship, even if his eyes linger as he makes his way towards the next fight in this unending chain. Despite that, you promise to continue to stay behind him, to support him with steadiness.

The sun sets and rises in a continuous flow, and since that day you started trailing less and accompanying more, instead of simply seeing his back, you began to look to the side towards him. The time together has forged something special, yet, there continues to be distance between your fingertips, even as you walk side by side. Distance which feels wider than the Chasm itself, as your desire to touch him, to be close to him grows with every kind gesture Xiao shows you. But, you continue to deny your own feelings, deny whatever is sparking between you and him.

Until you’re sitting in front of a fire, making food as you wait for him to return. The adepti do not need sustenance, yet you indulge yourself with delicacies, not keen on staying without for no reason. Additionally, a little whisper has reached your ears, telling you of his favorite food, one even Xiao takes delight in, and for some reason you feel the desperate need to make Almond Tofu for him, so you do.

The recipe was provided by Verr Goldet when you subtly asked her about possible foods in your last visit. Since then you have been slowly collecting the necessary ingredients to make it happen. Though the process has been a little more difficult than you had anticipated, and above what you might expect of your own abilities, you finally drizzle some syrup over the bowl as a last touch.

The meal between your hands and only the shine of the fire, you look upon your creation with pride and excitement. And soon, Xiao comes back, taking a seat by your side without hesitation. Immediately, your body reacts, putting one hand on his shoulder, looking for injuries in his own little network of electricity, while sapping another portion of his karmic debt. Luckily, this fight has left him unscathed, so there isn’t a lot for you to do.

Giddiness overtakes you, because you pull out the prepared meal and push it towards him without any words. Without hesitation, Xiao accepts what you give him, his hand covering yours, holding the bowl between you, his gloves warm against your skin; and this is the touch you have been longing for for some time.

You watch him as he realizes what the meal entails and he looks up from the Almond Tofu towards you, eyes wide and filled with surprise and something oh-so soft. Especially with the way the flames of the fire caress his features, making his eyes revering and gentle. His jaw works, and the words escape him as he continues to simply look at you, to let his eyes linger over every feature of yours.

And you realize something. Something you have denied yourself, denied him. But before you could truly voice your heart, your soul, promising him your everything, he has the right to know the truth.

So, you make sure the meal is properly in his hands before you pull yours carefully, reluctantly out of his soft grip. You open your mouth, only to close it, words escaping, your heart heavy. There’s no foreshadowing how he might react, how badly what you have done, have been doing, could affect whatever has been budding between you.

Xiao… There’s something I need to tell you…” you start, wrangling with the right words, wanting to tell him the truth, yet not hurt him more than he has been hurt already.

He simply tilts his head, waiting for you to continue your confession, an almost hopeful glint in his eyes, the meal yet untouched.

“I– I’m sorry, but, well, you see, Rex Lapis has sent me to you, you already know, but… there’s a reason. How– uhm, how do I say it… I’ve been by your side to cleanse your karmic debt, using the powers bestowed upon me… That’s– That’s why you have been feeling at peace by my side…” Your fingers writhe on your lap, your eyes avoiding direct eye contact, barely able to even look in his direction.

And all you can hear is a thunk of ceramic against rock. And all you can feel is the empty air, cold and nothing more. He has left without a word. Without telling you what his thoughts are, what he’s feeling about what you have done.

You slump into yourself, arms wrapping against your torso as you face your own knees. He’s gone because you have hurt him. You have hurt him and you have never realized that there’s another kind of pain, one squeezing the breath out of you, making your heart ache and your eyes burn; one that can be given and received at the same time.

The moon sinks and the sun greets you, and you don’t move from your spot. There’s no place for you to go. There’s no reason for you to continue following him if Xiao doesn’t even want your presence, your company anymore, and you cannot return to Mount Aocang just like that. So, you stay and wait, stay and wait. And for the first time in your time of being free, you feel restless at the lack of connection, of actions, of companionship.

During this time of waiting, you continue to stay in the same location, never straying too far from the initial fireplace, in hopes of him coming back to… to do anything, to talk, to confront you, to get angry, anything. So, you stay and wait, stay and wait.

When the sun is at its highest, you do seek some shade underneath the next tree big enough to provide you with some relief. You close your eyes, trying to plan your time, to fill it with meaninglessness to avoid any stray thoughts from getting to you. The breeze caresses your cheeks, and you open your eyes, expectations gone and yet growing.

A presence by your side. An all-too familiar pressure, much more soft, cared for than the first time. And when you tilt your head towards the source, your eyes meet illuminated golden eyes, the sun putting a halo in them, while the remnants of the wind play with teal strands of hair.

You gasp his name, breath clogging your throat and you have to swallow a couple of times, words refusing to form coherency in your mind.

Xiao lets his eyes wander over your face once again, familiarizing himself with a sight he had missed dearly during your time apart. Then, his fingers brush over yours, but instead of that being the end of the contact, he slowly begins to interlock his with yours, watching your reaction with his heightened focus. And you let him, feeling your breath growing shorter, your neck hotter at the intensity of his gaze upon you.

He murmurs your name. “During this time apart, I realized it’s too late to sever our connection… My heart– I mean, I will protect you as you protected me, as long as you stay by my side…”

His words touch something deep in you, vibrating in your chest, rattling you awake, bursting in you and overflowing your veins with warmth and comfort. A smile sneaks onto your lips.

“I will never leave your side as long as you allow me to,” you answer him, aware that there’s much more to say, much more to confess. But you’re both aware of each other's feelings, and you will take each step hand in hand.

A small smile graces his face, making him glow despite the shadows cast upon your faces. And as if it’s the usual thing to do, Xiao sinks into you, letting his head rest on your lap as the tension flows out. Your hands subconsciously start caressing his hair and you simply enjoy his presence, giving you peace.

The sun sets with your bodies and minds close, with the promise of staying together, of holding each other’s hands, of growing this love between you with each minute, with each word, with each gesture. And you promise him once again to stay by his side, as long as he stays by yours.

[ham-st4r]

𝓑𝓪𝓬𝓴𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓮 -𝓛. 𝓱𝓮𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰

🎶pairing: idol heeseung + makeup artist female reader🎶

Warnings: unprotected sex, dirty talk, finger sucking.

Genre: smut, friends with benefits.

Summary: your friend has a little problem that only you can fix, and with a few minutes before his performance starts, you decide that it’s just enough time for you to help him out.

Number of words: 1770

Find your way around!

Hi, hi, so, this is my second fic here. I decided to try writing smut🙈 I hope it turned out okay please leave feedback and kindly reblog! I can’t wait to post more here!

“Come on, baby, just a quickie, please,” heeseung whines, hugging you while pressing his hard-on to your lower back.

“Hee, not right now. You have a performance to focus on” you push him back just for him to cling right back up against your body.

“How can I focus when I’m like this?” He says, moving his hips from side to side, giving you a good feel of just how hard he actually is. “Come on,” he whispers in your ear, rubbing up and down your sides. “I want it so bad” his low tone sends a chill down your spine. “I need it” by now. He’s rubbing his clothed cock all over your ass, moaning softly in your ear. “I’ll do anything. Please just give me s-something,” he stutters when you push your ass firm against his hard grinding on his cock. He grips your waist, rutting into you eagerly “fuck” he says in a pathetic whine, but he doesn’t care how whiny he sounds. He was too desperate to feel you around him.

You can’t lie. You’ve been craving him so much more than you had been letting on, but you didn’t want to distract him from his performance.

However, he had other plans, and after feeling his hard-on pressed against you, there was no way you could resist him.

“Make it quick,” you tell him, and he’s all but ripping his pants and underwear off, freeing himself from the confines of the rather tight jeans he was wearing. He puts his hand on your lower back, bending you over the table where you had just finished his makeup. His warm fingers lift up the thin material of your shirt, reaching in front of you to unbutton your jean shorts. Once he finished, he pulled them down your thighs and let them fall around your ankles. The cold air against your damp panties made you shiver.

He tugs on the middle of your underwear and then lets it snap back against your bare ass “heeseung,” you moaned quietly from the pleasurable sting.

“You like that?” He repeats his actions only to get an even louder moan from you this time. “Yes, you do. I can tell you fucking love it,” he says, voice dripping with nothing but pure lust.

He moves his fingers to your heat, running them along your already-soaked folds. “you’re already so wet,” he says in a shocked manner before composing himself a little. “You must want this just as bad as I do” he moves your panties to the side and sticks two long fingers into your hole, pumping them in and out, transitioning from a scissoring motion to curling his fingers to rub against that one special spot that makes your legs shake.

You only hum in approval losing yourself in the feeling of his thick warm fingers fucking into you from behind.

You shamelessly push your hips back to fuck yourself deeper on his fingers as they effortlessly slide in and out of your juicy cunt.

“Such a tight fucking pussy” he groaned at the way your walls clenched his fingers, and he couldn’t wait to feel you on his thick cock next.

It was embarrassing, but you could feel your high approaching only a few minutes into him fingering you, but what could you do? He was just too good with his fingers and even better with his cock.

You were so close, but you just couldn’t stand the idea of cumming anywhere else except his cock, so you reached back, pushing his hand away from your lower body.

He mistook your actions instantly and thought he had done something wrong. “I-I’m sorry” he pulled his fingers out of you gently, a strong feeling of dejection bubbling in his chest at your sudden disapproval. “Are you okay? Should I stop?” He asks worriedly, But before you can answer, he’s already lowering your shirt and reaching for his pants.

“Hee, I need more than just your fingers,” you admitted with your head down in slight embarrassment from how shameless you sounded.

He breathed a sigh of relief from your words and continued where he left off.

“Fuck” he groans, eyes nearly rolling in the back of his head from your words. “Okay, baby, I got you.”

He lifted up your shirt once again to rub his throbbing cock all over your wet pussy lips, gathering your slick to make entering you that much more pleasurable he held your hips tightly while he pushed the head of his cock inside your drenched cunt.

Finally, he got the feeling that he was waiting so impatiently for “your pussy never disappoints” he leaned down to nibble on your ear, eyeing your fucked out expression in the mirror.

He cradles your jaw in his hands, making you look up at yourself in the mirror while he thrusts into you, slowly inching himself inside you until he bottoms out. “You look so sexy when you’re full of my cock” you watched with your eyes barely open and your lips parted, allowing shameless moans to fill the small room.

“Hee,” you manage to whimper out, “harder” your nails scratch at the table as you bite your lip to hide your moans from the other members and staff just a few rooms away.

“If I go harder, I’m gonna need you to be quiet. Can you do that for me?” He asks in the sweetest tone ever. The contrast between his tone compared to what he was doing to you made your head spin.

“Y-yes, just please fuck me harder” Now he had you begging for it the same way he was just moments ago.

He fucks into you harder, obeying your command. His breaths are quick with each snap of his hips. The grip on your jaw gets tighter while he digs his fingertips into the plump flesh of your waistline.

“Fuck, hee, just like that,” you cry out in pleasure from how his tip hit your spot perfectly.

Your loud moans caused him to slow his thrusts until he came to a sudden pause causing you to feel a dull ache between your quivering thighs from the lack of friction.

“I thought I said be quiet,” he grunts out and jerks you back by your messy ponytail. “Or maybe you don’t want to cum is that it?” He whispers in your ear. You shake your head back and forth, wanting nothing more than for him to make you cum. “I know you want to cum. I can feel your slutty pussy squeezing my cock, so desperate and needy to cum” he wasn’t even aware that his hips started to move again, rocking into you at a slow pace, it just felt too good for him to keep still. “maybe I’ll just pull out and finish in that pretty mouth of yours and leave you empty and begging to be stuffed full of my cock again” he teased you, but in reality, he couldn’t even live up to his words if the time came cause your pussy was just too good it felt like you were made just for him.

“Please, I’ll be good, I swear,” you whine in desperation, clenching down on him with every shallow stroke of his cock against your walls.

“I’m gonna make you be good” he pulls down your bottom lip brushing his thumb across it “suck it for me, baby,” you instantly obeyed, sucking and swirling your tongue like you would when you suck his dick. “Good,” he coos, picking up his pace once again, even though he found a way to keep you remotely quiet. The loud clapping and wet sounds each time he thrusts into you were a dead giveaway of what was happening inside the four walls, but you were both too far gone to even care.

He reached down, finding your clit easily with as many times as you’ve done this before. He thrusts his cock inside you deeper when he feels your walls gripping him tightly, signaling that you are just as close as he was. Each thrust had you sliding further on the table, making a complete mess of all the products that sat on it, the mirror violently shaking as he continued to fuck you at an unimaginable pace. All it took was a few more deep strokes and added pressure on your swollen clit to have you pulsating around his hard throbbing dick.

You whimper while sucking on his thumb walls tightly, clenching down on him every few seconds, making him spill his hot seeds inside of you. “Fuck y/n,” he grunts lowly, sliding his softening dick against your walls to bring you both down from your highs. He leans down, placing a gentle kiss behind your earlobe and wrapping his arms around your waist as the last few pulses of his cock come to an end, and you feel his cum seeping from your spent, trembling hole. “Thank you,” he breathes out, finally stilling his hips and pulling out of you carefully.

He grabbed some wet wipes off your small table, making sure to clean you up properly. You watched his focused face in the mirror while he cleaned you and himself up, and you couldn’t help but think he looked adorable with his little pout and concentrated face.

He quickly pulled up his pants, and after he was done, he helped you get back into your shorts, smoothing out your shirt just to watch it crumple again, causing him to frown cause he knew it was his fault why it had gotten wrinkled in the first place.

“It’s okay,” you kiss his pouty lips “you have a performance to get to, now. Hurry up,” you usher him to the door.

“But I’d rather stay here with you” he holds your hips, resting his forehead against yours.

“I know, I know” you pry his hands away from you and cup his cheeks. “It’s only a few hours, yeah? And you get to see me in between outfit changes, okay?” you gave him one last peck on his lips for good luck.

Okay! I never thought of that” his eyes lit up before he reached for the door handle. “I’ll see you soon!” he rushes out and accidentally slams the door behind him.

You chuckle at his behavior before sighing and looking at the mess he made of your station “what am I going to do with him?”

FIN.