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hazelfoureyes · 6 months ago

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Alastor in Rut (one shot)

Rutting Alastor x Fem Rabbit Reader

Less than confident and lacking much in the way of assertiveness, you find hell to be scary. But, a very kind and helpful deer demon has a solution! Just in time, as an unexpected rut hits him and he feels the need to reel you in.

this is pure self indulgence. Shout out to @jazzmasternot , @lustylita , @sugoi-writes , and @minkdelovely for keeping me sane and horny (with art lol)

「Warnings/Promises: actual warning - mentions of accidental vehicular homicide and reader's death, Marathon Smut, p in v, finger almost in a?, anal is considered, knotting because fuck it, attempt at breeding, womb flooded, not dubcon but everyone in the hotel thinks it is, slightly repetitive fucking because he wont waste semen on other holes, Alastor would fuck anyone but you’re the most amusing, Alastor doesn’t think he’s the good guy which is honestly kinda cute, deadass talk about making you carry his fawns?? Why is it so hot?? Knock me up deer man bleat bleat bitch, implied previous relationship with a human man, plans to cuckold your ex, heat, blue fire isn’t hot, you’re tricked into a deal with Alastor, kinda size kink, demon Alastor, minor aftercare, a little sexual choking (as a treat)」

Hey--- we're all here for something. This is 10000 words, 5300 or so is smut. Smut starts at the bright green divider for you impatient and horny deeries.

MINORS YOU KNOW THE DRILL DNI

The line for reception was long, but that was to be expected. After the extermination ended early and Adam killed on television by a maid, the Hazbin Hotel had been busy. Or so you overheard others saying. You’d only been in hell a day, lucky enough to catch the advertisements and hear the gossip for the hotel soon after your descent.

You recognized the princess immediately, but not that tall man beside her. He wasn’t doing anything, just staring and smiling. Was he friendly? Were there friendly people in hell? Truly friendly. Not high school girl friendly. Or hungry witch friendly. He had witch vibes.

“Hiya welcome to the”, she took a deep breath in, “Hazbin Hotel! I am Charlie! This is Alastor! What did you do to bring you to hell? Gotta know so we can cater your redemption activities to your sins!”

She was staring at you so happily, pen over paper. Your eyes nervously shot to the man, who leaned down in response.

“I fell asleep driving and killed someone, and myself.”

Everything about Charlie was frozen still except the sudden glossiness forming over her eyes. “You… you… were you like, a thief or… did you…… push old ladies into traffic?”

You shook your head no.

“Gluttonous? She asked.

“No, I wasn’t a fan of overindulgence.”

“Prideful, then?”

“Unfortunately… I don’t think too highly of myself. Living or dead.” Your hand came to your down turned rabbit ears, sad and limp. Even in death you weren’t the right kind of anything.

“Uhh,” Charlie clicked her pen furiously again and again, “Lustful?”

“Just the one partner. My highschool sweetheart.”

A sweat was forming on Charlie’s brow, “Sloth?”

“I did fall asleep behind the wheel… but it was from working 25 hours of overtime this week.”

Charlie put the pen down, “I don’t think you belong in hell. You made an accident. That’s not how sins should work…”

Your eyes bore holes into the desk, avoiding eye contact, “I don’t think heaven cares much about that.”

“Poor thing. Let’s circle back, Charlie.” Alastor’s large hand rested on your head, patting twice.

She nodded, “Good call. I’ll just,” her tongue stuck out as she began to write, “make a new category just for you! Other.”

Yeah that made sense, you thought. That was fitting. This truly was hell. Finally you stood out, as the one who didn’t fit in. You supposed that’s what a wallflower deserved for murder.

“Follow me little one.” The tall Alastor instructed you as he snatched a key from the hook and walked past you.

Happily. Small tail uncontrollably swishing as you followed a foot behind him.

A hum of approval, Alastor noticing the distance you kept.

“You obey instructions well.”

You always did. “Thank you.” Tiny and soft, your response made his shadow shift and smile.

It wasn’t a compliment, but the fact you took it as one interested him. Subservient.

Fun.

“I take it that you really were a good girl in life, weren’t you?” He swiveled on his heels to face you, the sudden change causing your face to run into his lower chest.

A song of apologies fell from your mouth as you backed up, tripping over your own pathetic attempts at platitude and falling back onto your ass.

He was tall before but now he towered over your, hand outstretched to help you up. You offered a thank you before taking it.

Clawed fingers tightened around your palm. Not letting you pull away. “You’re new to hell, right?”

A glance around, no one else in the hallway, “Is it obvious?”

“Yes. But also, you mentioned work this week.”

A nod, “It’s been maybe a day.”

Delicious.

“Could I offer you some advice?” He leaned down, hand tightening further. Wide eyed and a little frightened with the change in atmosphere, you just nodded again. “It’s very dangerous out there for little prey animals like yourself.”

“Aren’t you also a prey animal?”

His hand uncurled.

A moment of tension, Alastor leaning down further.

A strange sound was coming from his microphone, the best approximation you had was a car radio going haywire skipping through the channels.

“Room 243!” His body popped up and he held the key out for you. The hallway lights seemed to be glowing brighter now.

You grabbed the key, “Thank you!”

Two fourty three was just past him. A small tremble kept you from getting the key in on your first and even second try.

You didn’t even stop to turn on the light, just pushing the door closed behind you as soon as your body was through the threshold.

The relief barely left with a sigh when you heard it, “You know…”

Frozen, your eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to see the shining of his red and pink eyes in front of you.

“I’m somewhat of a deal maker. For a small price, I could help you. Perhaps, you’d like a change of appearance?” His voice seemed to be coming from the walls, above and beside you all at once.

Something lifted a floppy ear. But his eyes were too far from you for it to have been his own hands. A small scream as you smacked at the appendage.

“What do you say? I can use a little magic to make you happier with your new form.” A dark whisper into your right ear.

Your hands flew to your head before you dropped to your knees to escape the hidden things touching you.

“What do you want?” To your left now. “Let’s make a trade. A deal.” Above your head.

His eyes were gone. Just darkness and a soft laugh echoing around you.

Your mind was reeling through possible answers, what did you want? At that moment? In general?

An answer tumbled out, too quietly.

“Hmm?” His eyes reappeared closer to you and glowing a bloody red. “Speak up, my ears are quite a bit higher than your mouth.”

A second attempt, “Safety. I wanna be safe.” The laughter got louder, mocking you without words.

“A little tougher of an ask.” The sound of something slithering near your feet made you pull your knees tighter to your chest. “But! I’m here to please. In exchange for protection from the more nefarious of hell’s citizens I’ll need something worth my while.”

Of course, that is how deals work, right? A promise with compensation.

“I don’t have any money, or possessions yet. Maybe I should try again later?” You were lost in the light of his stare and found the darkness deepening around him.

A considered hum, “Well, you’re already dead. You’ve no need for your soul. Damned as it is, give it to me instead. To keep safe. And I’ll always answer your calls for rescue when in harm's way.”

Why would…what use was a soul, you wondered. Was he right? But if he wanted it, surely it had value. You were too new to this world, scared to say yes and part with what little you had.

At the risk of angering the demon in the darkness of your room, you whispered to yourself and hoped he would hear it, “I think I shouldn’t.”

Hissing in your ear, “Disappointing.”

The lights flickered on, an empty room. A bed. A nightstand. A closet. A bathroom. No tall smiling dealmaker.

A tremor stayed in your hands through the night.

To your surprise, when you ran into Alastor the next day he was more than kind. He was eavesdropping when you asked Charlie if the hotel needed any staff. Not only did you want to be of use, you were hoping to earn some money. He quickly slid beside Charlie suggesting things you could do.

Wow, you thought. He didn’t hold a grudge at all. Maybe he had been trying to help before?

It took a few weeks, but you found a groove. You were a floater between the staff, helping Husk with the restocking of his bar, following behind Niffty with supplies her tiny arms couldn’t carry, and keeping notes for the activities Charlie held. It was vital for you to feel needed and everyone seemed happy to have you around. Hell wasn’t so bad.

“Dear,” Alastor found you holding a basket of towels in the hallway on a rather standard weekday, “I need an errand runner. Do you mind?”

You had been finding Alastor’s presence enjoyable, a little secret you held. He was always smiling, which made you smile in turn. And his manners, well, perfect. You couldn’t understand why such a sweet man was in hell, but then you considered you were also in hell. Mistakes happen, perhaps he was also damned by technicalities.

Not that you would ask him, you barely spoke a word to the deer demon. Every time he was around you your throat would close up. Oftentimes you would pull your hands behind your back to shield the wiggle of your too-honest tail.

When he would speak to you, you would get so focused on the sound of his voice and watching his mouth move you’d actually not hear a damn thing he said. You must have looked like an absolute airhead, always replying, “What?” every time he finished a statement.

“Hellooo, anyone home in there?” He knocked gently on your skull. Ah, those big hands again. He watched the pink bloom across your cheeks, your hands coming to your ears to pull them down as your mind wandered off. A snap of his fingers finally brought you back.

“Sorry, what?” Your eyes were bright as you finally made the journey all the way up to his face.

“Welcome back. I need some stuff picked up from a shop downtown. I can’t leave right now, mind hopping over for me?” The grin he offered you made you melt.

“Of course!” That damn tail shaking behind you, “What am I picking up?”

He waved his hand, “Not important, it’ll be all wrapped up and waiting.” The radio effect of his voice grew, “I’ll write down the address.”

Terrible handwriting. You could barely read it, but didn’t want to insult him so you just nodded as he followed you to the doors. Pausing, you realized it was your first time leaving the hotel alone.

“What’s wrong? Not up to it?”

You shook your head, “No! I can do it. Thank you.”

A pounding in your chest made you question if you were actually dead. But despite your concerns, no one bothered you beyond some catcalling and intense glares. Staring at the paper, you struggled to decipher the address. Was that a 7 or a 1? A 4 or a 9…? You were in the general area, the street name lined up and the first couple numbers of the address too.

You brought the paper closer to your face, maybe if you really inspected it you could figure it out.

A shriek, dropping the paper to felt a small goblin-like creature pushing at your knees. Another, then another, began to appear from the shadows of the street. Black and white little creatures pushing and pulling at your legs until you tumbled over.

“Help!” You thought it was a shout, but it came out as a soft spoken request, the tone itself adding a ‘please’ to the end.

They weren’t hurting you, just knocking you over every time you tried to stand up like grade school bullies. You managed, the creatures relenting momentarily before a stockier one materialized. A step back, what did they want? Money? You pulled out your wallet and opened it but the large one smacked it to the ground.

That quick heart skipped a beat when your back hit against something solid. As your head bent backwards, you could see those red and pink eyes looming over you.

“Oh dear. Trouble already?”

You could cry. You did cry, a little, at the sight of a familiar face. With a flourish of his hands, those previously unseen tendrils whipped from his back and flung the aimless attackers away.

Rescue! You hugged his waist, a chorus of ‘thank yous’ and ‘Oh, Alastor!’ into his chest.

“Now now, can’t even be a proper task rabbit. You really do need some safeguarding.” He peeled you off him, brushing his coat off. Your mind thought back to the offer. “And I don’t see my purchase… didn’t complete the task either?”

You shrunk, you’d entirely failed him. His smirk was one sided, eyes half lidded and expression dramatically disappointed. Alastor sighed and turned to walk away from you. You’d let him down. He’d been nothing but accommodating and gentle.

“I’m sorry! Alastor!” You grabbed his wrist, eyes shut so you didn’t see the green glow of arcane symbols floating up around him. “Can I please have that deal? Please. I’m sorry, you have my soul as payment.”

Painless, selling your soul. With a handshake, a little light show, and a whirling of magic, you had done it.

“Excellent choice!” Alastor patted your head, “I’ll come to your aid when you’re scared for your life! Aaaand in return, your soul is mine. Easy peasy, yes?”

Fine, not an issue in the slightest. “Do I need to do anything?”

“About what?” His eyes wandered to inspect his fingernails.

“My soul.”

A barking laugh, “No. You’re tied to me now, dear. As for my end, just call my name when you’re in danger and I’ll,” a flourish of his talons, “rescue you.” His smile strained as he peered down at your little face, “Why are you crying?”

“I’m so happy to have the help, thank you Alastor! You really are just, amazing. Your mother raised you right.” Your hands were holding your cheeks, grateful and feeling a little less alone.

The mention of his mother made his back straighten, a bloom in his chest he knew all too well to be pride. Finally, someone was vocalizing his better qualities. Well, other than Charlie. But impressing Charlie was like making a dog think you’d thrown a ball. Just a little quick whirl of your hands and a couple sweet words with a smile and she’d be all wagging tail as she ran to retrieve nothing.

But he supposed you were very much like Charlie, easily tricked and distracted. Had you really not noticed those goons were his? Or that the address wasn’t real? Were you stupid or naive? His head fell to the side unnaturally as he watched you talk. He wasn’t listening, though. He took in your features, slight but average. His hand came out absentmindedly and felt at one of your long and limp ears. He didn’t see you blush or caught how you stiffened.

Naive. Terribly naive.

Perfectly usable.

He dropped your ear and turned to leave. “I won’t rescue you twice in one day. Best to follow me home if you value your life.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You hadn’t told anyone about the deal, a secret for yourself to keep. Partly because you were embarrassed you needed the help, and partly because you had been warned extensively to not make a deal with the deer demon. Everyone had such a peculiar idea of Alastor, it seemed to you. Even after making a deal, he was still…Alastor. Always offering a joke, or playing something jaunty in the shared spaces. You could vent and whine and Alastor would hum as he read. Always offering a gentle pat to the head when you were sad or did something he liked.

So when Alastor suddenly left the group in a sweat, hands shaking and body rocking slightly side to side, you were quick to follow behind him. He bumped off the walls a couple of times before making it to his room and falling forward past the threshold.

You waited for the door to close before running down the hall and knocking.

“Are you alright?” You pressed your cheek against the wood and listened for any reply.

Alastor was still on the floor when you knocked, which worked out well. He leaned against the door, ears flat with his condition. He took a deep breath, voice dropping an octave and carrying easily to you, “Just— an out of season rut. Unexpected and unwelcome. Without any does nearby it’s quite odd.”

“Oh, are deer not like rabbits? Rabbit does are always in estrus! Mating actually triggers their ovulation. Neat, huh?” Silence, Alastor’s ears turned forward focusing on every other word.

Does, always, oestrus

Mating, triggers, ovulation

“I had pet rabbits when I was little. Isn’t that funny though? That they’re also called does.” You worried he thought you were weirdly interested in rabbit sex. “We had them as pets. So….,” a silence you misinterpreted as awkward.

Alastor tapped a long claw on the door before dragging it down the wood. A line was etched behind, “Is that so?”

You knelt down to get comfortable, “How long will it last?”

“Ah, hard to say. I've only suffered through a few. Alone, perhaps a week.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“With an appropriate partner, a deer demon would rut for two days. One for mating with his doe, one for guarding his doe from rivals who could still interfere with conception.”

His doe. You both found your throat running dry at the words.

You nodded, “Oh wow, I guess that’s why you always see bucks locked together in fights.”

“Precisely.”

“But...can sinners actually conceive?” You gulped, the idea was a little naughty to you. The entire conversation was actually making you uncomfortable. The kind of discomfort that made your breath pick up. The kind of discomfort that shifted to hunger with just a few words or a well placed look.

“No, but that doesn’t matter. Once fully in the hold of a rut or heat, demons aren’t motivated by logic.”

You nodded again, forgetting he couldn’t see you. “Oh okay…” the idea of Alastor rutting into his own hand desperate to fill a womb made your knees come together. “Must be hard for you. As an asexual.”

A hum, confusion breaking his creeping fog for a second, “A sexual what?”

“Nevermind.” You shook your head, shaking off the topic with the motion.

Alastor could smell your arousal wafting under the door. A feverish chill ran through him, drawing the fog back into the recesses of his mind.

“Well… I’ll let you rest. I know you can’t call me, so I’ll stop by to see if you need anything.”

His mouth opened to correct you— he could call you in a sense, and he didn’t need help as he had minions he could summon with a snap.

“That sounds lovely, what a helpful thing you are.” The words came out strained, his jaw tensing. How much longer could he hold out? The thinnest lie held in place that he’d suffer alone through the week. Already compromised by his errant shadow, flat against the carpet beneath your thighs.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Within hours Alastor was lying on the floor with his limbs splayed out. The sweating was the worst, not the heat. He could feel ticklish drops dripping down his stomach. His hair was sticking to his face, adding to the mounting overstimulation. Wet, hot, clothes clinging to his body like a second skin. A clawed hand pulled off his bow tie. His fingers shook too much to handle the tiny buttons of his shirt so he gave up and ripped it open.

It fell into a pile with the bow tie and soon his pants and socks joined. Sitting up on his elbows he looked down at his underwear, he wasn’t hard yet but he knew the smallest touch could trigger what could be days of painfully swollen erections.

He fell back to the floor with a huff, hands raking through his hair and gripping his ears a little rougher than he’d meant to. A gasp, red tipped talons feeling down his ears and slipping around his already growing antlers.

Alastor’s eyes rolled back, strong hands squeezing his prongs, tugging them forward as he imagined anyone riding him. Using his appendages as a handle while he bucked up into them. His hips were already moving, lower back rising off the carpet as he rolled his body up into the imaginary mate he despised his desperation for. His mind flicked through faces. Husk’s pained but satisfied expression, Vox’s tears as he whined, Carmilla’s lusty eyes paired with surrendered sighs. He lingered briefly on Angel’s smirk as his hands roamed down his chest and his thighs in tandem.

But through the darkness of his imagination he saw two watery and timid orbs, tears welling as eyebrows rose in confusion. Pleasure making the features soften. Soft. Soft velvet ears he could tug on in turn, a little bushy tail he could grip.

A doe.

The only doe he knew of in the hotel.

The radio on the writing desk flipped through channels, piecing together the sounds to form the words he was trying to forget, a magazine ransom note cut from sound bites.

....out the windows

....always and forever,

....in yesterday.

....rusty cage

May you never....

Hating how I....

....pull the trigger

....say you love me?

....congratulations

The relevant sounds spiked in volume, mocking him.

He walked to the radio and hurled it across the room. Aggression. Already he was losing himself to hellish biology.

A minor part of him didn’t want to use you. You always looked at him with such adoration, which he’d come to look forward to when others weren’t giving him adequate attention. You also seemed to genuinely see him as a friend, as much as he didn’t directly feed that idea.

But using people was how the world worked. Everyone was using someone. You had said how much you wanted to help… Alastor leaned on the desk with both hands and watched the sweat fall onto the wood and leather writing surface.

How was his body leaking from every pore but his mouth was so dry?

His shadow reached for the thrown radio, the light flickering on. That dark doppelgänger using a song to offer another piece of torment for him, ‘you ain't never caught a rabbit and you ain't no friend of mine.’

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You had been speaking to Husk about what you could do to help prepare the bar for the weekend when a green light began to form around your neck.

“Did you— Did you make a deal with him?!” Husk dropped the dish rag, hands shooting to your shoulders, “Hold on! I’ll— fucking hell. Fuck!”

“Wait what’s wro-,” you were standing inside an unfamiliar room, just at the door, before you could figure out why Husk was panicking. Looking up, you locked eyes with Alastor. The room was dark, curtains drawn shut and ceiling lights off. A slight glow from a roaring blue fire to your left. His eyes were those familiar glowing red orbs in the darkness of his large canopy bed. “Oh, Alastor.” You finally noticed the third light source. A neon green large linked chain was wrapped around his fist. Following the squared interlocking pieces down the length of the bed, across the carpet and up as you looked down to find it ending on you.

Your hands touched your neck, feeling the cold metal of your collar.

Alastor took a deep breath in, a shaky exhale following.

Oh. You’d heard from Angel how his deal with his boss often materialized as a series of smoke rings linked and attached to him.

Before you could question it any further you were sliding across the floor, hands and feet struggling to find purchase as he reeled you toward the bed. Alastor lifted you by the glowing chain around your neck, evidence of the deal you so easily accepted.

“Can a deer breed a rabbit?” He mused, breath ragged as he struggled to remain in control of his impulses, “Doubtful. But I’ll give it my sincerest efforts, regardless.”

“Alastor-! You don’t want to do this, it’s just your rut.” You pulled back, legs kicking and piling up the blankets. It was fruitless.

He laughed, incorporeal radio studio audience joining along. You couldn’t stop from glancing at the straining fabric of his black boxers. Setting a small hand on his chest to better attempt to push away you gasped, “You’re burning up!” The fear of the moment left you entirely, replaced with deep concern.

He gripped your wrist with his free hand, not letting go of the chain in his right, “The fever is unbearable. My mind is slipping away.”

“Is this normal?!” Your hands came to his cheeks, his forehead, his neck. You remembered how your grandmother always checked your temperature, and pressed your lips to his sweat slicked brow. “You poor thing…”

When you pulled back you were met with the bright and blown out pupils of Alastor’s gaze. He was staring at your mouth, the green of his magical connection to you reflecting off his glossy eyes.

“Poor me.” He’d been sitting with loosely crossed legs but got on his knees. His face rose until he was looking down at you, hand now holding your chin, “You promised to help me.”

Your eyes were looking everywhere but his face.

His hand on you tightened, cheeks squished together as he pulled your head up, “Are you a liar?” Of course not. His hand made your head shake left to right.

The trembling of your hands was obvious to you both. A cruel laugh, “Do I scare you, little bunny rabbit?”

In life you weren’t popular. No one hated you, but, well, you never had much luck attracting the men all the women seemed to want. No one of power or consequence ever paid you any mind.

Alastor was scary. But were you scared? Someone strong wanted you. Someone people feared was saying you were good enough for them.

Tears welled in your eyes as you felt your tail wiggling side to side. Your body always betrayed you. Your own death had been the doing of your body’s inability to listen to you.

He couldn’t see the tail but the way your face screwed up in shame tipped him off. Letting go of your face, super heated finger pads slipped down your back. He slotted your tail between two fingers. There was no reason for it to be such an intimate action, but your entire body trembled.

Another deep sigh from Alastor, closing his fingers around the base and pulling gently. A test. Your head dropped to hide your reaction.

“Ah ah, eyes on me.”

He hummed happily as you did as you were told.

But the moment was cut short, you jumping when a rough knock came to the door.

“Alastor!” Vaggie was turning the knob despite knowing it was locked, “Is she in there? Open the fucking door.” A kick, a threat, “Now.”

“I’ll need your answer.” He leaned back onto the pillows piled behind him. Making a point, he lifted your chain and dropped it. It dissolved into nothingness before it could hit the bed.

“I’m here!” You said barely loud enough to be heard through the wooden door. Your eyes were drawn to Alastor’s lap as he pushed down his underwear to free his deep red cock.

His hand tenderly touched his base, hissing with the contact.

“For fuck’s sake Alastor!” Vaggie yelled, “You have three seconds to open this fucking door before I rip it off the hinges.”

Alastor’s head fell back with a moan, stifled as he bit down on his lip.

“One!”

As his fingers slid up his length and touched his leaking slit his entire body violently shook.

“Two!”

He opened his eyes just barely. You hadn’t noticed the antlers on his head were quite a few times larger than normal.

“I’m okay!” You shouted, the loudest noise you’d made since your death, but not the loudest you’d make by the end of the day.

Silence.

Mumbling.

Vaggie spoke up again, “Are you sure? Come out and talk to us first.”

His hand began stroking himself, precum spilling down. Something soft and fuzzy was settling over the front of your brain.

You scooted backwards off the bed, eyes staying on his lap. The light color of his inner thighs. The little bit of red and black tail you could see squished down under his ass.

“Hello!” You opened the door just enough to shove your head through. “Hi there gang.”

Husk’s arms were crossed and his foot tapping, “Are you really okay? No matter the deal he can’t fucking make you stay in there with him.”

While you weren’t sure that was actually true, it wasn’t an issue, “I wanna stay! He needs someone to watch his fever and-,”

A brief rush of cool air up your shirt before a hot mouth was pressing into the small of your back.

Vaggie’s eyes narrows, “and?”

“And! And. Yes.” Your eyes shut, “and take care of cleaning up after him.”

They shared a glance, “He can just make his little creatures do it.”

A surprisingly long tongue ran up your spine.

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Oh my god! No! I couldn’t let my friend,” you sucked your bottom lip in as his hands wrapped around your waist and undid the button of your pants, “rely on strangers.”

Husk sighed, “Alright, just… like, call us or something? If you need anything.”

You began to nod but the door was shut and locked by Alastor before you could reply.

₊✧˚﹕︶︶︶﹕૮₍ ⸝⸝´ ꒳ `⸝⸝ ₎ა﹕︶︶︶﹕ ˚✧₊

Your face hit the wall as you lost balance when he pulled down your pants and panties with one yank and buried his face into your crotch. His tongue licked at the wetness pooled at your entrance.

Any moans would probably still have been heard by the other two so you tried to keep quiet. Alastor didn’t seem to care though, growling into your skin.

The fever seemed it would spread skin to skin, but when he pulled away you found your body quickly cooling. Taking a moment to breath before turning back, you wondered if you’d made a great decision or a terrible one. When you turned, Alastor was settling back into his previous spot. “I could rip the rest off of you or you could undress yourself.” He wasn’t looking at you as he said it. You made quick work of removing your shirt and returning to the bed as you had before.

"Turn around."

You turned to face the door.

"On your hands and knees."

You paused briefly, but did so.

As you bent over, little tail high and trembling, Alastor’s clawed thumbs spread open your bottom lips. Perhaps it was embarrassment or just the nerves but you were twitching open and close.

You heard a low “Fuck” before the feeling of heat dripping onto you made you jerk forward. One of his hands came to your shoulder to hold you in place, the other kept your hole open as his seed continued to dribble down onto it.

He hadn’t been trying to cum, but his body was already responding to the opportunity before it; a breedable and submissive doe. His cock trigger-happy at the sight of your pussy, inside pink and clenching.

A tiny yelp as he fell over you, joining you in an all fours position but larger body caging yours between his limbs. He laughed again when the back of your head hit him square in the chest.

“You are uselessly small.” His body rumbled over you. “Clever girl to make a deal for protection.”

A burning stiffness slid down your folds. You could feel from even how little contact he made he was too big. Was it a bad time to tell him you’d only had the one partner on earth? A rather boring but sufficient sex life. If Alastor was hoping for a sex kitten he’d be deeply disappointed in you.

He hummed imagining dropping his weight and feeling you fruitlessly squirm under him.

“Mating triggers ovulation, I recall you said. I just need to fuck you into it, right sweetheart? Maybe if I do a good enough job,” his hands gripped the flesh of your ass, “your body will actually respond. Your belly will swell with the evidence of my virility.” Both hands slipped down your hips and came to nestle above your womb, tenderly caressing the protective layer of fat there, “could your little form handle it?” Little form? Not quite. But to him everyone was little. Claws leaving faint red marks as he dragged them up your ribs, around your sides and pressed your back down to get your chest into the bed and ass in the air.

A squeak, your legs flailing with what little motion they had as you turned your head, “Well that’s for actual rabbits not--.”

His hand came over your mouth, “Shhh, there's safety in the quiet. Don’t you know? We’re most vulnerable when we mate.” On the utterance of the word you’d been avoiding to even think about Alastor’s still hard cock squeezed its way into you. Your body was willing, but your pussy wasn’t ready to accommodate him. Not that your living partner had been small, but he wasn’t a seven foot tall rutting deer demon. And with height came a girth and length you’d not anticipated. You had seen it, yes, but that didn’t translate to much once Alastor was entering you.

His hips were snapping back as soon as he sank in. It frustrated him endlessly that he wasn’t trying to fuck you with such a lack of control. He couldn’t have been sure he’d have done it any differently had the circumstances been changed, but he liked to think he’d retained some skills over the long years alone.

The way he whined made him sound like a weak man, which he was in that moment. You wanted to call out his name, do the things you were used to doing during sex, but his hand was still over your mouth.

As if he heard your thoughts, his fingers spread open over your lips. Pinky under your chin to keep his hold on you.

“Alastor,” the tenor of your voice surprised you.

“Stick out your tongue.” He sounded far away, despite being right behind you. When you did as he instructed his hand shifted. Two long fingers went into your mouth and pressed down on your tongue. Immediately his fingers and your chin was dripping with drool. He whined again, louder, the noise growing into a growl as his speed began to pick up.

You could feel the thin flesh at the bottom of your entrance stinging as it was failing to stretch enough for him. It would have bothered you more but the way his burningly hot cock's head was pressing into your cervix was making your eyes lose focus.

Without ceremony, you felt a rush of heat deep in you. Your shins lifted from the bed as you squirmed, weak attempts to escape the deep press.

His hand left your mouth and you felt it working on the base of his cock that was not yet in you. He mumbled something, it sounded like an apology, before you felt him pop the rest of himself in. You choked on your scream, not knowing what he had put in you.

It throbbed, new and stronger spurts of his seed felt against an indescribable place.

A brave hand reached between your thighs and felt at the space between your bodies—- well, would have felt at that space. But there was none. You were flush against his lap. Your fingers slid down to feel taut balls pulled up into his body.

He shivered as you traced between them, checking neither were … inside you.

“I should have warned you, but my ability to speak wasn’t—,” he waved his hand around, “available.” You tried to pull away but found you both were locked together. “A knot. Not an accurate representation of a deer… and technically useless.”

That word meant nothing to you. “Is it normal?”

His thumb pressed at the virgin tight ring of muscle just above your pussy, you instinctively jerked away but just made yourself gasp as that large knot in you threatened to further tear you if you kept it up. “I don’t normally do it so early in a mated rut.”

You surrendered, trying to relax your upper body into the bed. “How do we get it out?”

A mocking chuckle, “It’ll deflate, so to speak, in a couple minutes. It’s just keeping my little doe in place while I finish filling her up.” He patted your ass.

It was mortifying to be suck in that position.

“Have you ever used this hole?” He rubbed some of your wetness up to your asshole.

Your tail lifted, “My boyfriend didn’t like anal.”

Alastor massaged around the puckered ring, “I didn’t ask if he used his.” Your head turned to look at him, shaking it ‘no’. You noticed his face looked less strained now, and that his finger didn’t feel like a fire was just under his skin. “Ah, well. I won’t need it today anyway.”

He didn’t see the bright blush that came over your face. He spoke so easily about the topic, a topic you’d never heard him speak on before. One you’d been told he had no interest in.

An error you made, assuming a lack of interest meant a lack of knowledge or experience.

When he finally could pull himself out of you, you felt a rush of warmth down your inner thighs. Looking under you, past your chest and between your legs, you saw the thick white semen escaping from your stretched entrance.

You’d never seen such an opaque release before. You wondered if it was a hint at his…potency. You wondered more what was happening in your body at that moment.

“Will it come out on its own or do I need to clean it?” Finally sitting up, your fingers felt the mess still dripping out of you.

Alastor leaned back onto his legs, ears turning in your direction as you asked, “Is this your first time? Your little boyfriend never finished in you?”

Crossing your arms, you turned to him, “Don’t be patronizing to him. And no, okay?”

He felt the heat rising from his gut again, cock twitching at every bit of the scene before him. Insolent body language, an attempt to scold him, and an admission. You watched him sit back up, a sudden reminder how much taller he was as darkened eyes looked down on you. The blue of the fire cast half of his face in shadows. “What’s this? My obedient doe wants to defend another man in my bed?”

Your hands nervously came to the ends of your ears, “I didn’t mean it like that.” A finger twirled, telling you to turn around. You hesitated. Did he want you to leave? He didn’t want to look at you? You hadn’t—, “I’m sorry.”

With a blink, his eyes were black. His fingers longer as parts of him seems to stretch between the joints. He twirled them again as his smile grew wicked.

Desperate to show him you hadn’t wanted to upset him, that you wanted to stay, you turned around. The fear of not knowing what he would do next was sending waves of electricity to your lap. You realized you hadn’t touched yourself yet, not that this was the time to start.

One by one, those freakishly long fingers curled around the small of your waist and lifted you off the bed. The tops of your feet were sliding across the dark maroon blankets beneath you both.

Your heart was pounding in your ears as he pulled you against him. He positioned you above his renewed erection, your legs opening a little in instinct.

Grateful now to be turned around, you let your face run the full range of feelings as they washed over you. Fear, arousal, anticipation.

“What a wasteful man.” He brought you down with a painfully slow speed, head just now meeting your sticky wet hole. “He never flooded your soft cunt?” He pressed in a little easier this time, but as you sank to take him all in you felt a sting where you’d slightly torn earlier. “When he dies, I’ll be sure to find him.” Cruel. “And make him watch me breed you.” You clenched, yet another betrayal by your body.

You were reduced to gasps as he stayed stock still and moved you on and off his cock. “Am I bigger than he is?” You could feel his breath against your back as you were lifted and brought back down again slowly.

You nodded. A terrible liar, you didn’t even try to fib.

He stopped with his head barely in you.

A squirm.

“I’m sure I just didn’t hear you. Try again.”

“Yes.” You were full again as he got his answer. A creaking sound you didn’t recognize startled you.

“Do I fuck you better than him?”

Ah you understood. Your hands held at his fingers digging into your body. “Yes.” Another creaking sound as he quickened your rise and fall.

Alastor’s antlers were wide and multi-pronged as your affirmations jostled around behind his eyes. Your ‘yes’ somehow made you tighter, wetter, hotter around him. His hips started moving again to meet yours. Perhaps he his dick grown a little during his shift to a more demonic form, or maybe you enjoyed the line of questions. All he knew was you were squeezing him like your body didn’t want him to ever pull out again.

Blood dripped from his lips as he cut his own skin, through gritted teeth a final question, “Do you want my fawns?”

Your legs pressed together, you knew there was only one answer and yet you asked yourself. Did you want that? To carry his children? A moan cut through your thinking, “Yes!”

The fire roared, a response to his own reaction.

Alastor felt his mind slip under again, noticing the wild way his shadow was dancing around the walls before his senses all dulled except touch.

The bed drifted away from under his knees and the walls melted like spent candles. Just sounds echoing off space as your moans deepened. As if learning, you began to whisper ‘yes’ to yourself as you felt a building pressure in your stomach.

Every thrust into you further separated your brain from your body. Your eyes lost focus as you watched the door bounce. No, wait, you were bouncing, right? Bouncing up and down the stiff rail of Alastor’s arousal. Your head fell forward, gasping as you felt him harden further while buried deep in you. He was going to cum again, you could feel it, you would feel it. The thought made your body shake as a pressure grew steadily in you.

Not a new sensation, but a different one.

“Louder,” another thinly veiled demand from Alastor that seemed to come from somewhere else entirely. Your eyes noticed a small light on the floor near the wall. A radio, buzzing with the same crackle as his voice.

“Yes,” you ground out, his hands were slippery with sweat as his nails dug in to ensure he didn’t lose his grip on you. “Yes, yes, yes.” He brought you down entirely and only let you off a little, an unspoken fear he would release too close to your entrance and he’d lose precious seed he needed your body to receive. “Yes! Alastor!” You weren’t sure who was talking now, as it surely couldn’t be you. You’d never —

“You’re better than him. You’re bigger and stronger and and he never —- he could never…”

He was suddenly regretting the position, unable to watch you fall apart as he so lovingly spread you open.

With a shriek, your back crashed into his chest as Alastor fell backward into his pillows. He didn’t miss a beat. He continued fucking up into you but let one hand reach your clit. When you whined, he breathed into your hair, “I need you to orgasm.” Other hand pressing down on your womb, “Many cultures believed a woman couldn’t get pregnant without finding her release first. Surely it’ll take. Cum for me my doe.”

You shook your head, “Alastor that isn’t possible.” Not that you were arguing against the way his finger was rubbing up and down on your swollen clit, you just felt the need to remind him of the obvious. Your eyes wandered up and back to see the hauntingly wide antlers now. His transformed face barely visible in the shadows.

“I thought you were a good girl.” His mouth kissed at the base of your ears, hand over your womb pressing in and exaggerating the feeling of his cock bulging from under your skin. “Darling,” he groaned, “Are you ready for my knot?”

You moaned at the words. No, of course not.

“Yes,” you got quiet, embarrassed again. Your hand snaked up and behind to hold his shoulder for stability.

“Relax,” he hissed, feeling your body tensing in anticipation.

You tried your best, but between his strumming finger and the sting still at your entrance you struggled to let things go limp.

This time you felt it growing beneath you. Alastor was ready as well, pushing it in before it was swollen so large he’d have to force it or just suffer with it outside.

Lubricated with the multiple loads already fucked into and then out of you, the knot pushed past your entrance with ease. But then you felt it expanding in you. Eyes crossing as they rolled back with the foreign sensation. It didn’t hurt, but a little alarm was going off in the back of your brain. How could something natural feel so unnatural? And how—

Your body locked up, muscles from thighs to neck tight. Alastor’s finger hadn’t stopped, and as the second knotted release flooded you with his feverish need, as his knot trapped every drop and forced it up past your cervix you tripped into your first orgasm. Different from your own hand and toys, the build up hadn’t been a slow ratcheting climb. No, you were rolling through waves of nearly pained pleasure. The spasming forced your body to feel him even more, pulling him deeper, triggering another wave to crash into you.

Alastor wanted to praise you, a rush of hormones and ego expanding his chest but the sensations had him so overwhelmed he was manually breathing. His hand didn’t want to stop, because then the way your pussy was positively sucking him in would also end. But your little cries and moans got increasingly choked and strained.

The calm briefly offered by knotting a mate during his rut came to your rescue, Alastor dragging a still barely moving finger up your body and going slack into the pillows.

Deep breaths, both of you fighting to slow them down. Alastor was experiencing another moment of clarity, only slightly upset he had doled out so much tenderness.

But for you, there was no deep fog of a heat to numb the sensations and let the more bothersome bits of consciousness turn off. Your mind was just as clear as normal. A little lusty, but nowhere near Alastor’s altered state. As you laid against his chest, waiting for him to be able to pull out, you could feel the pains and aches setting in.

Alastor summoned a minion, food set down on his desk under a silver cloche. Your eyes caught the black and white creature before it was whisked away.

Sitting up, you flinched but fought against the pain, “Alastor. What was that?”

His hands pulled you back down by the shoulders, skin on skin, “My minion. One of many.”

Exhausted, you could only sigh, “So, the errand.”

His hands went up defensively, “Oh come now, did you really think I was the good guy?” You didn’t reply. The silence began to bother him. Odd, given he usually didn’t give a fuck.

But he’d asked a lot of you, and you agreed willingly. You did as you were told. A little twinge of concern he had actually upset you wiggled between his ribs.

His hands slipped down your waist and settled over your stomach, “…Are you hungry? If you stay like this, I can help you eat.” You took a deep breath in, but didn’t even move to look at him. He squirmed ever so slightly, “I can only assume you’re… quite sore. Perhaps a bath? But I can’t guarantee we’ll make it out much cleaner than we are now.” His smile was smaller, just lips; no teeth. As his antlers withdrew and his limbs all returned to their proper places he could turn his head enough to look at your face.

Alastor felt relief wash over him to see you deeply asleep in his arms. It wasn’t a bad idea, to sleep before the next spell hit him and he was too far gone to think about baths or meals.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Alastor awoke in the dark. He found his hands and ankles tied behind his back, his body naked and sweating. He was on fire, pieces of himself lifting in the hot breeze and blowing away. He could feel his body fragmenting. You were just a little ways away and he tried desperately to reach out to you but as his eyes adjusted you were suddenly too far. If he could just get you to take a single piece of him, a shard of himself, he would live still. Even when the rest of him was dead and gone, he’d be alive in your hands. A raging stress, the fire now reaching his bones. It wasn’t too late. He still had time. Just a sliver of his existence was all he needed to get to you.

When you woke up, your body was at the foot of the bed. Looking over you saw Alastor lazily stroking his painfully hard erection. His gaze downcast, vision cloudy with unmet needs.

“Alastor?” With shaky arms you lifted yourself. You were hot. Was it the fire? No, before it had no heat. A little damp outline into the comforter formed where your body had been.

“You’re awake.” He reached over and grabbed your ankle, pulling you towards him and rolling you onto your back. Hand still around your ankle, he pulled your leg against his chest.

“Alastor.”

He sunk into you without hesitation, hips rolling into you roughly. Your body was rocking against the bed, wood creaking against wood with the steady force of his thrusts.

It felt good. Better than before, your walls felt soft and puffy around him. Alastor’s head was low, groaning every time he bottomed out. You could see just enough past him to watch the bed canopy swaying above you both before he folded you in half and leaned fully over you.

His eyes were unfocused like his mind, staring into the bed. A large palm at either side of your head, his back curved as he angled his hips to reach deeper yet.

“I’m so hot.” You were struggling to get the words out. It felt so good, the deeper in you he reached the more you seemed to be melting away.

Your hips were lifted off the mattress, held up entirely by his cock as he continued to rut into you. He could feel the fever in you rising.

Bent and tangled together, his head was nearly above yours. He was sweating, hair stuck down and ears folded back. A bead fell from his cheek and hit your forehead. He was working so hard. Such a strong man. A strong buck.

Something in you snapped. Something twisted and burned in your belly. You brought the other leg up to let yourself be folded in half completely, and his eyes wandered to your face. Your frontal cortex was just static as the lights were shutting off in most parts of your more human faculties.

Everything got quiet in you, a deep seated feeling of security creeping up your legs and sinking into your bones. With Alastor in you, nothing bad could happen to you. If you were carrying his offspring you’d be guaranteed a new level of protection. You needed it. You wouldn’t survive if you weren’t fucked and bred by the overlord.

How could your body be wrong when the feeling was so natural? So intensely confident?

“Alastor!” Your nails dug into biceps, hands clamoring up his arms to cling onto him, “breed me, please.”

He was caught alight, mind on ablaze with his raging fever. Your plea was a magnifying glass concentrating the sun into him and sparking a wildlife. Alastor was defenseless against the way your words affected him.

He could feel it, he could smell it, your heat triggered finally. His lips caught yours as his hands slipped up the blanket with how he had to contort to reach your mouth. You moaned into him, teeth on teeth as neither of you had any ability to finesse things.

“On your knees,” he instructed. You scrambled to turn around as he briefly left your body. A desperate whine in the seconds that stretched on, the emptiness unbearable. It hurt to have him anywhere but balls deep in you.

His hands slipped around your tail that still tried to swish side to side. When he tugged you gasped, the closest sensation you had was having your hair pulled. Chills ran up your spine. You nearly fell forward, but a strong hand wrapped around your neck and pulled your head back. He lined up, adjusting his legs wider to get down to your level.

“Are you feeling it?” He nipped at your shoulder, “Your heat?”

You pushed your ass back and pressed his tip into you. The sound that tore through your chest was answer enough for him as you tried your best to move along his length all on your own.

“You’re okay,” he squeezed lightly around your neck, pussy twitching around him as lightning snapped through you. “I’ll take care of you.”

Words that made your head spin. His body on yours felt like security. Everywhere his skin touched yours was a gulp of cold water in a drought.

A cliche, as he began to move again and his cock hit your g-spot every couple thrusts, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. His fever was matched to yours, no heat exchanged as warm and wet flesh moved around warm and wet flesh. Was that your hand or his on your stomach? Both were searing, both soft and slick. One of your hands was reaching down to hold his arm for support.

Eyes slipping shut, you imagined this was what being high felt like. You were out of your body entirely, feeling his dick slipping in and out of you from a different plane of existence. There was a sense your mouth was moving but no awareness of what you were saying. Truly just babbling as Alastor’s speed hitched. A clawed hand on your hip cut into you as he pressed deeper with every thrust.

He guided you down onto your stomach, hand now resting on your right shoulder to keep you in place. You were entirely flat, his knees parting your legs so he could get flush against your core.

His knot was in place as he began to swell. You felt it again, him flooding your womb as he released directly into your twitching cervix. A euphoria filled you so totally you were sure you could feel the cells of your body humming.

Like a cool breeze had blown down, your fevers broke nearly immediately.

“Oh,” you squeaked, Alastor’s hand releasing you as he lied on top of you. The weight of him was oddly arousing as it gave a clear comparison of your smaller size. “I think you’re right. Estrus.”

He nodded, rolling you both onto your sides, “Would you like the good news or bad news first?”

Resting your head on his extended arm, you tried getting comfortable despite the sticky feeling of your skin and the burning in your thighs, “bad news.”

“You won’t be walking straight for days.” He said it with a heavy tone of pride.

“Oh geez…,” you could feel his knot still throbbing between your hips, “The good news?”

“Your heat is going to make me even more desperate to fill you,” his free hand ran down your sides and slipped between your legs to feel where you two were connected.

You turned your head the best you could, “That’s not good news, Alastor!”

He laughed, “I lied. Oh well!”

While the good news had been a lie, the way your body’s shift into meeting Alastor’s instincts upped his feral responses was not. You nibbled on fruit and bread and cured meats in the small windows the clouds around your humanity parted.

But when they’d roll back in, a tempest of feral wants crashing into you both, you’d find yourself clinging to the deer demon.

You could have had an apple in one hand and be mid bite when his musk would reach you and your grip would loosen. With just a moan and a lifting of your hips Alastor would be dragging you closer, crawling over your body, mounting you wherever you two happened to be.

It wasn’t that you’d become confident by the end of the day, but that you’d lost all semblance of shame and embarrassment.

When Alastor pulled you onto his lap and placed your hands on his peach fuzz covered antlers, you didn’t need verbal instructions. It took all of your arm span to reach them, so you held tightly as he thrust up into you. None of his noises had been as intoxicating as the ones he made when you were leaning over him and squeezing his prongs with every jostle of your womb. Perhaps he’d lost his shame too, loud and long moans the other residents had to have heard spilling from his open mouth.

The wet slap of your ass coming back down onto his thighs as he bounced you was barely registered. Head hung low to meet his black engulfed eyes, you didn’t notice his smile was gone for the first time since you’d met him. Pinhole red pupils were locked on your face and imperceptibly roamed around your lust filled expression.

One hand reached up and rubbed the soft skin of your downturn rabbit’s ears between his thumb and index finger. Soft. Velvet.

A sensation that was wholly pleasant, not sexual in any nature but feeding the comfort provided by Alastor’s cock buried to the hilt. He wanted to enjoy the smile it gave you but he could feel his orgasm climbing exponentially.

There it was again, the darkness of your combined heat and rut slinking in. Body to body, your own sounds harmonizing with his and losing distinction. “Alastor–,” eyes drifting shut, “Please. I feel empty.” His previous loads dripping down your thighs, then down his own, and soaking into the carpet. “Fill me up. Please, can you breed me?”

His hand pulled down on your ear, “That was never in question.”

You let go of his extended prongs, arching your back to take a kiss. More. His tongue in your mouth, another hole full of Alastor. His hands both reunited on your ass and used the flesh there like handles. He fucked up into you, withholding the growing at his base, until he felt you cumming around him again. As your body sucked him in with rolling spasms, he pressed you down on his upthrust. A pained moan as it was pushed in a little late.

Lightning behind your eyelids, your mouths hanging open and pressed together.

Both of you a pile on the floor, a cold blue flame and soft music playing from the still broken radio. Uncharacteristically, Alastor’s arms wrapped around your smaller form and clung to you. The sensations were popping up one by one. Sticky skin, sweat rolling down your face, hair sticking to your neck and forehead. You’d have to peel each other apart. Which you did, eventually. When Alastor could pull out, he followed through on the bath he’d been thinking about.

You protested, reminding him you’d be soaking the floor with displaced bath water as soon as the next urge to mate came around. But he laughed, smile back in place as if it had never left, “Sweetheart if I do my job right you won’t even realize you’re not in bed until you’re knotted and knocked up.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

He hadn’t been lying about the protective second day. But what he hadn’t anticipated was just how long that aggressive desire to keep others at a distance from you would last. While your deal had been in place for a little while before his rut, it wasn’t until after your time together in his room that it seemed to ever be used.

But you didn’t need to call out for him, like he had said. No, anytime someone even looked at you with a nasty thought, you were graced with his presence. Most people figured it out quickly enough, but occasionally new and brave idiots would approach you with trouble.

So when a tall and imposing creature cornered you in a shop, hand holding something sharp and shiny and asked, “Scared, little hare?", you could only smile as your face was lit up by a green glow and offer a little advice, “No, but you should be.”

deleted scene ˗ˏˋ Masterlist ˎˊ˗

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

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hereforthehitsbaby · 11 days ago

Text

Careful, Bub | DP&W!Logan Howlett x F!Reader

Synopsis: I showed my friends, then we high-fived / Sorry if you feel objectified / Can't help myself, hormones are high / Give me more than just some butterflies

Warnings: Mutual Pining, Masturbation, Sexting, Nude Photos, Mentions of Sex Toy Use, Dom!Logan, Logan Talks You Through It, P R A I S E K I N K ! L O G A N, Choking of the Sexual Variety, Shoving, Claws Come Out, Age Gap (Reader is in their late 20’s – Logan is 200 years old), Reader used to have confidence issues but worked through them,

Rating: M – No Minors

Word Count: 8.5k

To be tagged in any future work of mine, please fill this out.

It’s fun to relate to the people that live in the same place as you, something about it deepens the connection. Whether it is a mutual bonding over music, entertainment, or even sports – it always makes you feel closer, comfortable. In this day and age, it can be almost lonely if you aren’t connected with others through your phone, making the world feel a bit glummer. Having that safe group is necessary to be one with the world, to feel like you’re going to be okay – like everything is going to pan out. You happened to luck out by living in the same building as some of the most heinous, and hilarious characters the world has ever set eyes on. You have the fortune of calling them your friends.

The group chat was originally Wade’s idea. His way of bringing you into the crew when you worked late, not missing a moment of meet ups you couldn’t make it to. It was a sweet gesture, but with how many others were in there – it overwhelmed you. Out of the twelve people who are constantly messaging the chat, you found safety within two of them. Negasonic and Yukio happened to be your solace when the chat was too loud. Yukio wasted no time in creating a Girls Only chat for you three, where nothing was held back. You three could express yourselves in every way possible, without the guys being weirdos – mainly Wade but still. It was great to have women friends around your own age, that was something you were not used to.

Any inside joke about the guys or about events being organized was ran through your three separately, making small bets here and there on what Al would say, who Peter would try to have grab his chain, how many times Logan told Wade to fuck off. Logan, that made you tune in real quick. The possibilities were endless and made it eventful to say the least. But the one thing you loved the most about your friendship with Nega and Yukio is how open they are with you; Honest, encouraging, your own personal cheerleaders. When you initially met them, you were a shy little wallflower – getting by on just being a listener over a talker. Always the encourager, never getting encouragement. Shying away anytime someone was nice to you, never accepting it as truth. Yukio and Nega were the opposite of what you were, and everything you wanted to be.

Having a safe space with them meant you could send them anything and they’d listen, give advice, be the best friends you could’ve ever asked for. It was with them that you found your confidence, something you always struggled with. It was one photo you sent them of the dress you were wearing – both ladies telling you how beautiful and gorgeous you are, how hot you looked in it. That small little omission altered your brain chemistry. You hadn’t been called hot before, so it invigorated you to hear that. It was a long dive into the endless pool below, and you were ready for the journey down. Months and months of slowly getting out of your shell with them turned you into a little vixen, the compliments they gave you caused you to thrive. You always reciprocated for them as well, hyping them up through and through. It felt good to feel like you were worth it, like you weren’t just there. It changed the way you saw yourself, and you knew you’d never go back to how it was before.

Tonight was no different, after all you had just gotten back from hanging out with them. A trip downtown to the mall was a call for chaos when it was you three, Wade forcing Logan to stay home with him and reenact The Greatest Showman with Mary Puppins. It bummed you out for a bit, not being able to chill with Logan like you wanted, but when Wade called – no one told him no. It was a secret to everyone who wasn’t Yukio and Nega that you had a thing for Logan. Something about the older man burned right through you in the most sensual way possible, something deep and longing you never wanted to leave. Little glances you two would have together always caused the girls to giggle, teasing you about it later but, it was only a matter of time before the chord snapped, before you gave in. Still that fear sat at the back of your mind, the what if’s. What if he doesn’t want me? What if he doesn’t want anyone? What if? What if? What if?

As you sit on your plush rug right in front of your wall length mirror, you leaned against the side of your bed, humming as you thumbed through the earlier group chat messages. Behind you on your duvet sat the bag full of clothing you had gotten, trying to add more color into your wardrobe. Beneath it all sat a spicy little number you nabbed whole Yukio and Nega were changing, something that felt so right you needed to have it. It wasn’t a secret that you would buy yourself things like these every now and again but, this time around you felt empowered holding this little secret just for yourself, to surprise your friends with. They always said that color duo made you look fearless, powerful, gorgeous – and you’d be damned if you’d pass it up, especially on sale.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you contemplated getting up to take a shower or put on your new set, feeling yourself out, getting some prime photos then showering. The toss up between the two left you unable to choose, wondering if you could go hang out with Wade and Laura instead, maybe even sneak your way into Logan’s room. The thought made your body shiver, needing to close your eyes for a moment to brace yourself. Taking a deep breath in, you let your mind wander, your hand grabbing the bag off your bed instinctively. It was a given deep down you wanted to prance around your room in the set, spicing up your night. Something about wearing it underneath your clothes while hanging out with everyone felt taboo, downright sinful – but you craved it.

Feeling your body tremble with anticipation, you gently grabbed each piece of lingerie out of the bag, the rustling of tissue paper filling the air as your music droned low in the background. The bra was placed carefully against the bed first, followed by the lacy things and garter set; Your eyes quivered with arousal as you saw it, knowing how it was going to make you feel. There was no wasted effort in stripping completely naked, tossing your day clothes into the laundry basket. The slight cool breeze coming from your central air, mixing with the intoxicating smell of the candles lit around you made your eyes darken, your nipples pebbling against the air. You understood why you were excited and giddy to be putting it in, but in the back of your mind you also felt nervous. It was confusing you.

Pushing it out of your head, you ignored the nagging in the back of your mind, solely focusing on the task at hand. Sliding the soft lace of the thong up your thighs, you reveled in how it felt – how it glided against your skin so softly, like it was a lover. How supportive it felt cupping your front whilst holding your behind helped to quell some of the nerves lying low in your belly. Snapping the elastic band against your hip, you giggled as you grabbed the bra. Even though it was lacy and covered almost nothing, it had good support for your breasts, holding them perfectly to show the most amount of cleavage, but also leaving some to the imagination. In between the small bits of detailing, you could see the color of your nipple, which caused your smirk to grow. Biting your bottom lip, you smoothed your hands over the apex of your breasts, watching as the flesh spilled over slightly.

All that was left was your garter belt, sitting across the middle of your stomach and hooking onto your stockings. You worked quickly to pull them up as you let the music take over you, swaying to the beat so it was less intimidating. As the final strap was hooked to the top of your stockings, you let out a shaky sigh, silently prepping yourself for what you would see once you turned around. Keeping your eyes closed you spun around slowly, letting the anticipation eat away at you until you couldn’t take anymore. Usually you were so confident when it came to trying these pieces on, not giving a second worry to them – this time around you were nervous, as if this particular color scheme made you scared. You couldn’t let that hold you back, not after how far you have come, it wasn’t worth it.

Slowly you opened your eyes as you faced the mirror, the blue tint of the strip lighting giving a whimsy glow to your room. The focal point of your vision started to become clear as you looked at your face, makeup still immaculate and beautiful from earlier. But as your eyes panned down to your body, you felt a fresh wave of goosebumps flood your skin, a shaky moan leaving your lips. The yellow of the bra and thong complimented your figure wonderfully, amplifying the gorgeous glow of your skin. But truly it was the navy blue of your stockings and belt that made your body quiver; The royal deep color punctuating your sensuality with how you stood. You couldn’t believe this was you, in all your baren glory – a fucking goddess amongst men, you could send one to the hospital just with this set. You couldn’t keep your smile back any longer as you stared at yourself, admiring your body and its shape against the lingerie. All the worries, all the small doubts instantly fell away, your confidence skyrocketing.

You knew for a fact Yukio and Nega would hype you up, thinking this was totally you¸ and probably ask if you got it today. But those could wait, you needed to take photos – you needed to see what you looked like on screen. The giddy nature of what you were doing sent shivers through your body, the thought of what positions would look best making you grow excited. You decided that your go-to for new outfits would fit perfectly in this scenario. Who knows, you could save this photo for a rainy day when you wanted to tease someone. You grabbed your phone off of the bed as you dropped to your knees, the plush shag material of your lilac rug feeling lovely against your legs.

Parting your thighs, you left a good gap between both as you sunk yourself down. One hand came to press against the floor directly in front of your clothed core, tossing your hair over to the opposite side. As you held your phone in position with your free hand, you noticed how your arm was pushing your breasts together deliciously, deepening the cleavage, sending your eyes a shade darker. Pouting your lip as cutely as you do, you snapped a few quick photos, getting every great angle you could as you changed your hair direction. A blur of photos filled your camera roll as you felt yourself, “Juno” by Sabrina Carpenter coming across your playlist at the best time.

As you laughed to yourself, you finally stopped taking photos, sitting with your back against the bed and crossing your legs. Each photo you took was a masterpiece, amplifying your beauty by tenfold. But out of each one, it was the very first one that felt real, authentic to you. The others you were playing sexy up, trying to get the best fuck me look going, but it felt too artificial for your taste. It was the first one, the one where your eyes were dilated, where your nipples perked beneath the fabric, where your thighs trembled that made you feel like a God. It was a no brainer that this is what Yukio and Nega were getting, there was no way around it now. Clicking the share icon in your camera roll, you clicked on the first green bubble, eyes blurred from how excited you were about this risky photo. I’d be a lot tougher with claws.

You sent off the cheeky message without a second more thought to it, locking your phone instantly. As you tossed the device on your bed, you put on the silk bathrobe hanging off of the corner of your mirror, wrapping yourself up quickly. All that thirst-trapping made you thirsty, the dry mouth you were getting was too much for you. As you opened your bedroom, making it around to your kitchen of your apartment, you opened your fridge up quickly to grab a water bottle. The cold plastic in your hand brought you back to Earth, your body coming back into itself as your reality started to slip back in. The cap was popped off easily by you, finding its way across the quartz top. Bringing the bottle to your lips, you let them wrap around the opening, gulping down the cold liquid. It felt nice with how hot you felt, bringing your internal temperature back down as your mind cleared.

Ding. The tone of your phone going off made you stop drinking, catching your breath as you swallowed down the water. So lost in bringing yourself back to the present time, you forgot you had messaged the chat. You screwed the lid back onto the bottle as you set it on the countertop, promising to come back to it. As you made your way elegantly back to your room, that pull of nausea and nerves made you stop. Your stomach churned as you stood in the doorway, the threshold keeping you upright. That same feeling from earlier was back as you put on the lingerie, not knowing why you felt so nervous and scared all of a sudden. It made you confused, weary as to what your body was trying to tell you. It’s just Yukio and Nega, why are you being so flighty? Groaning to yourself, you rolled your eyes as you made your way back to your bed.

Plopping down onto the duvet, you sprawled out on your stomach as you grabbed your phone, using your face ID to unlock it. Yes you would. Colors look good on you. You cocked a brow at the message, reading the lines over and over again. It didn’t sound like Nega or Yukio to be so short-worded. Usually, they would send a plethora of emojis before screaming in all caps. But that was just the thing, your last message open wasn’t to the group chat, but one individual instead. It all made sense now, why you felt so scared and nervous. Your eyes went wide as you read the contact’s name, not seeing your groupchat. No, instead it read Logan. It wasn’t the groupchat that received the photo, it was him.

You screamed as you threw your phone across the floor, palms shaking as you sat up silently. The noise in your brain was too loud to focus, the intake of your breath and blood pulsing through your ears made everything too much. Anxiety was sitting in the back of your throat, threatening to spill your stomach out. You scrambled across the floor on your hands and knees to grab your phone, still unlocked from a few moments ago. Shaky fingers worked to unsend the photo, blessing the tech gods for that feature. You were too anxious to type, opting for speech to text instead. “I’m so sorry about that! I meant to send that to Nega and Yukio.” Seeing the wording typed out didn’t feel right, as weird as that sounded. Admitting it felt like a sin, more so than sending a sexy photo to The Wolverine. After all, wasn’t this your endgame anyways? It’s not like you haven’t deep infatuated with him since he became Wade’s friend, since you started hanging around him a lot more. Wasn’t it you who stated that by the end of the year, you’d kiss him? Wasn’t it you who said you would fight tooth and nail to make him yours?

Being sucked into your mind by your thoughts caused you to delay in sending your message, instead removing the text with your finger to completely disappear. Ding. Right as you were thinking of your response, you saw another message come through from Logan, one you didn’t anticipate. Put it back. Now. There was no way he said that, right? Oh, but there was. As your eyes shook from excitement, nervousness, and fear you could make out the small letters of Logan’s message, feeling his desire through the text. He wasn’t a big texter, he even said that himself – but to see him say more than two words was insane to you, even now when he was clearly enamored with you. There was no right or wrong way to reply, but no words you could think of held a light to the dominance Logan is showing.

Incoming FaceTime Call: Logan. The red and green buttons at the bottom made you stir, wondering if it would be a good idea to answer. This was one of his favorite ways to communicate, to see how things were going and what you were up to. Granted they never lasted more than two minutes because Wade would always hijack it but still – the little slivers of time you got with Logan was special. This time around though? It felt wired, like if you answered you’d get the shock of a lifetime. But what was life without a little self-indulgence? Looking up at yourself in the mirror, you fixed a few strands of your hair, pulling your robe a bit tighter around your chest as you sat back against the bed, letting your butt hit the floor as you got comfortable. Dragging your thumb along the green answer button, you positioned your phone a few inches away from your face, enough to get your collarbone up in the shot. A slow, pregnant pause caused by your phone’s connection delayed seeing Logan. But once it came to be, you were taken aback.

The dark of the early night was cresting behind his head, the sun starting to descend into the horizon. His eyes glittered against the holiday lights, causing your heart to swell. Once he looked back down at the camera, he couldn’t help himself but by staring at you, a small smile threatening to take over his lips. “Hey,” he let out with an airy breath, the slight chill of the night causing it to puff out. You felt yourself suck in a breath, the energy already charged. Reflecting his own smile, you sent your own through your phone as you waved. “Hi.” Usually you were a lot more talkative, teasing him to make him smile but – none of that felt right in this moment. Even with seeing his face on your screen, you could tell he was hiding something – not really saying what he wanted to. His eyes were black against the horizon behind him, no sight of hazel coming through.

“How’re you?” You managed to let out, your voice lower than usual as you let your legs stretch out, leaning further back against the side of the bed. Logan didn’t miss a second of your movements as he walked down the street, the light bustling of cars filling the sound barrier. From the buildings behind him, you could see he was downtown, more than likely heading to the bar for a quick drink. You silently wished he asked to meet you there, to hang out privately for once. But that playful glint in his pupils told a different story as he rounded the corner, staring down at you. “Did Wade tell you about my suit?”

Logan asked with a slight smirk, narrowing his eyes suspiciously as he watched for your reaction. Cocking a brow in his direction you tried to understand what he was asking, not sure what suit he meant. You knew that Logan was The Wolverine, it was no secret. But you never saw his suit, only meeting him a week after he jumped into your timeline. Shaking your head at his question, you pulled your lower lip between your teeth, gnawing on the skin to help combat the butterflies in your stomach. The swishing of your hair from side-to-side aiding in cooling you down. “Then what made you choose yellow and blue?” His smirk never let off as he asked, prying. He wanted to fully talk about the photo, he wanted to see if it was truly accidental or planned. Your mouth went dry when he asked, not having a concrete answer for why you chose that color scheme. Shrugging you tightly laughed, releasing your lip as you focused on your mirror. “I thought it was a pretty combination.”

Pretty, by association it was like you were calling Logan pretty. Even if you didn’t know about his original suit, still he associated himself with those colors. Logan mirrored how you were before, pulling his own bottom lip between his teeth as he chuckled. Struggling for a moment, Logan managed to flip his camera around to pan at his legs – the clean yellow and blue pants is all he had to remember his original suit. It caused your heartrate to pick up again, hammering in your chest as you got a brief glimpse at his clothed crotch. It took every fiber of your being to contain yourself, to hide the whimper clawing up the back of your throat. Lost in thought of what he could be hiding under there you didn’t notice how the screen flashed a few times – a text bubble popping up you couldn’t focus on. Logan took screenshots of your reaction.

The camera flipped back to Logan’s face, the heat cresting its way up your neck as you stared at him, your own pupils blown out. “Do you still think so?” He teased, dropping his voice down a few octaves. You could tell he was wearing his headphones to talk, making it more intimate for him to hear than everyone else. It sent your body up in flames at how you could say anything, and it would be only for Logan. “More than ever before.” It was a no-brained response, you didn’t have to think in order to speak. Your mind was already as alert as it was going to be, the filter around Logan you had previously no longer existed on this call. Logan stopped his walking to stare down at you, narrowing his eyes with a genuine smile as he licked his lips, nodding to himself.

Logan jutted his chin out towards the camera as he started to walk up another well-lit street, never taking his eyes off the camera. “You wanna show me what my colors are hiding under there?” He nodded towards your bathrobe, a sliver of the bra showing against the fur collar. There was one of two ways this could’ve gone, either play into it or shy away. This was clearly an attempt from Logan to see how far you’d want to go with him, really a test for if this was accidental. Mutual pining after one another for so long burnt you both out, so if it kept going there would be no tell when it would stop. The power was now in your hands, there wasn’t much else you could play with. Putting on your best innocent eyes, you let the pretty little smile fall to your mouth, puffing your lower lip out slightly. “Dunno – you sure you can handle it?” Game on.

The sassy tone you let on with your question had Logan’s pants tightening, his breath coming out in sharp bursts as he tried to control himself. Having animalistic tendencies meant that anytime he was aroused, he needed to stake his claim. Show the world who you belong to, who his mate was. Even if you didn’t know, he did. He could smell it on you any time you went past him, or when you looked at him. In another life, in another world you were his – and he planned to make you his on Earth-10005 as well. Huffing out a disbelieving laugh, Logan snorted as he stopped in his tracks, pressing his back against the brick wall of one of the local pubs. “I can handle you, missy.” Logan hissed, letting his eyes go naturally wide to signify how serious he was. The low growl seeping up from his throat made your body shiver, made your fingers work slowly to undo the ties on your bathrobe. “Don’t get it twisted.”

You couldn’t help but snort to yourself as you heard Logan say that, never expecting the 200-year-old man to say something so modern. Laughing lowly as you stripped out of the bathrobe, you let a sliver of your chest show, how your robe fell off of your shoulder. Logan’s eyes narrowed in to watch you take it off, the silk falling behind you. All that he could see was the plush skin of your breasts hanging slightly over the cups, nothing more. A weak moan slipped past his parted lips as he watched, needing to shut his eyes for a moment so he wouldn’t cum in his pants. You knew you had Logan right where you wanted him, letting you take the control back of the situation. It made you feel powerful knowing he was so weak for you, even if it was for a short period of time. “Ew, Wade needs to stop teaching you catchphrases of the early 2010’s.” You weren’t a tease all the time, you could see Logan’s labored breathing through the call, could tell he needed a distraction.

Your remark was enough to make Logan open his eyes again, staring at you with a predatory glint in his eyes; The whites almost impossible to see. “Why are you changing the subject?” He panted, standing upright again as he pressed his covered back to the wall, cocking a brow in your direction. You weren’t prepared for Logan’s retort, thinking you may have the upper hand while he was aroused, yet he always managed to surprise you. Sucking your teeth, you shook your head in confusion, rolling your eyes away from his gaze. “Aw, is someone flustered?” He pouted, smiling with a hint of smugness. Your mouth falling open in a silent gasp made him chuckle, finding it quite adorable how you’re trying so hard. The burning across your face was a clear indication to you that Logan was getting under your skin, trying his hardest to truly break you. It wasn’t in a callous or mean way, but more to show you who you belonged to. Putting the phone closer to his face so you could see only him, he made sure he was loud and clear. “Don’t worry princess, I’ll be nice and gentle.”

“Fuck off, Howlett.” You laughed as you rolled your eyes, exposing your cleavage to the camera without realizing it, your cool slipping through your fingers. The dead giveaway of how he was affecting you came in the form of your camera shaking, your fingers betraying you as you tried to suck in a deep breath. Looking away from the camera didn’t help when Logan stared like he was going to eat you alive, devouring you with every glint his eyes gave. You had to admit it to yourself, your confidence reserve was running out, completely going dry the longer you sat and talked with Logan. If he didn’t act now, he was forever going to hold his peace. “I’d rather fuck you.” It flowed off his tongue so elegantly, never deterring his steps as he managed to walk again. At first you thought you may have misheard him but, you heard him loud and clear, perfect in fact.

The shock written across your face, mixed with desire caused Logan’s restraint to snap. He moved away from the bars entrance and instead kept straight, letting the cold November air nip at him a bit longer. For the first time in a long time, you were speechless. Mouth hanging open, brow creased with a mix of shock and anxiety, you were going through it within seconds, all because of dear Logan. The confidence, the bravado, the je ne sais quoi you have held on the up and up finally slipping. Revealing itself when the shy version of yourself you thought you buried. The submissive angel, Logan had you wrapped tightly around his hand, reminiscent of his old cage fighting wraps. “Eye-fucking can only get you so far, princess.” Logan knew you wouldn’t pull away now, you were putty in his hands. But he could have a little fun with you, and boy did he plan to. It was a sure thought that you weren’t as obvious as you may have thought when staring at Logan, silently begging him to fuck you. The whole time, he knew.

“You’ve known?” It was a silly question to ask but Logan wasn’t stupid. He’s been around for more than 200 years, he could see through stuff as it came through. He is also very well known for retorting back no but I do now, pretending to know a secret as a way to coax you into telling him. You had to make sure this wasn’t like that – or else you’d implode. Logan nodded at you as the lights started to dim around him, a gentle glow from afar lighting the edges of his face. He was still outside but away from the light pollution, an alleyway most likely. Propping his phone up on the closest discarded shelf near a door, he nodded as he pulled out his flask. “No shit I’ve known, you can thank Yukio for that one.” Yukio, your friend. There was no malicious feelings towards her for telling Logan, in fact she may have done you a favor. But it got you thinking, who else did she tell? Was it one giant secret that the whole group knew, hence why they tried to push you both together constantly? “She tells Wade everything.”

And there it was, the shot heard ‘round the world. It made sense that she told Wade, and Wade blabbed to Logan – Yukio would never face the conflict head-on, it went through a source. Releasing the breath you were unaware you were holding, you nodded into the open air as you sunk further against the bed, a bead of sweat gathering on your hairline. The back of your throat felt tight, dry, highly uncomfortable for your own liking. Trying to swallow was like trying to fit a watermelon into a wine bottle, impossible due to how high your blood pressure was. Now that the light pollution of the city wasn’t creating streaks of orange across his screen, he could fully take in your shocked state – seeing the tears gathering in the corner of your eyes. “What? You didn’t think I’d feel the same way?” Logan asked honestly, no longer keeping up the teasing. Seeing the distress on your face caused him to pull back, wanting you to tell him when it was good. He wasn’t going to push further; He didn’t want to ruin this.

The chord of your neck worked to string your words together, trying to find the best match to speak. Nothing felt, nor sounded right on your tongue; It drove you mad. “No, but I thought it was a fantasy more than anything.” You squeaked, coughing to bring some moisture back to your throat. Adjusting yourself on the floor, you brought the camera down a bit, pulling it further back for comfort – a typical position for you. Logan noticed though, how he could see you bright and clear as day, in your pale-yellow bra, that you had just for him. The slightly darker color of your nipple crept through the fabric, causing his pants to tighten, but he wouldn’t tease you further unless you felt better. “Can’t fantasies come true?” It was Logan’s last-ditch effort to ease the anxiety rising in your stomach. It helped, hearing him say that. It didn’t feel awkward anymore, it didn’t feel scary. It was beautiful, the start of something more.

“Are you sitting on the floor?” You pulled your camera back to pan it around yourself, showing off your little number as you sat, pulling your legs into a criss-crossed position. “Yeah, I got spooked off my bed thank you very much!” You stated with a smirk, showing how you were teasing. Logan liked how you said it, acting all sassy as you puffed out your bottom lip. It was cute, you looked precious to him. Everything about you made Logan feel alive, like his life was worth living instead of drowning it with the bottle. You made him want to be a better man, to settle down, start a family – anything you wanted he would give you even if you asked. That, is how much he loved you. “Flip your camera around.” He motioned, twirling his finger as he drank from his flask, groaning at the taste.

Obeying his command, you flipped your camera around as you showed him the mirror right in front of you. Waving cutely through it to him, you fluttered your legs as you sat, anticipation eating its way through you. Seeing the softness of your belly against your thong sent his mind spiraling, his eyes flickering to the fabric down further, hoping to God he could see your arousal. For a moment he took you in, how shy you were getting under his gaze. Hell, he could see the goosebumps forming themselves on your thighs, wanting to sink his teeth into the plushness of your flesh. Nudging his head towards you, his next command was on the tip of his tongue. “Spread your legs, c’mon.” The way it rolled out of his mouth like warm honey had your eyes wavering, threatening to roll back.

Slowly you began by uncrossing your legs, sticking your feet up absentmindedly towards the mirror, making sure to wiggle your toes under the stockings. It was a good tactic for teasing; Logan was living for your control. As your clothed claves hit the rug, you started to swing your legs open, letting each inch of the fabric rub against your soft legs. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, which didn’t go unnoticed by Logan, reveling in how responsive you are. “That’s it, good girl.” The fated words that made you lose yourself every time, fell out of Logan’s mouth so naturally. As he spoke that blissful name to you, finally your legs were fully open, able to see every little bit of you. It felt good, right to have his eyes on you. He wasn’t someone who could hide his emotions well nowadays, utterly losing it the longer he stayed with Wade. But in this moment you saw the true reserve on his face, the realization that even though he’s in some back bar’s alleyway, anyone could see him. The arousal coating his face, how his eyes focused harder to make out that tiny banana-yellow stain of your wetness on your panties, he was so lost in this moment. “Lean back, get comfortable. Eyes on me.”

“Yes, sir.” You nodded as you leaned back fully against the side of your bed. Reaching to your left, you grabbed at the tripod Nega got you for your birthday this year, shortening the neck of it to sit perfectly to your side. Shaky hands did not make for stable camera work. Something in the back of your mind said this would be the best thing for him; No shaky cam as he directed you, all hands free just for him, it was the perfect pick. Pushing your phone quickly into the top slot of the tripod, you placed your hands on the inside of your thighs, tickling the soft flesh as you awaited Logan’s next words. Beneath the lace, he could see your perky nipples pebbling at the mere instructions he was giving you – silently berating himself for not going over to your apartment and showing you why they call him an animal.

“You’re such a good listener. Don’t think, just do.” You weren’t even trying at this rate, you naturally fell into the submissive role so easily. A commanding personality like Logan always made you fold, obeying each word like it was spoken from God. It’s the reason it made you so special in the bedroom; It’s the reason Logan became obsessed with you. Seeing your submissive side slip through the cracks every now and again made him yearn, a man starved. He could have anyone and all he needed was you. “Listening so well for me.” It was what you could do well in this moment, even with the steady flow of blood pumping through your ears. The whooshing and thumping making it difficult to hear anything other than Logan; The current making room like Moses parted the Red Sea, only he shall walk on through. “Show me, sweetheart.” You felt like you were burning up, from the inside out. Cooking hotter by the words Logan was saying, not able to keep your cool anymore. The husk of his voice, mixed with the lucidness of the alcohol slipping around his tongue made you see stars. If it was possible, you’d cum just from his voice.

Antsy was a perfect descriptor of how you were feeling at the moment, suspense eating right through your chest as the insinuation in Logan’s voice. “Show you what, Lo?” Ah, yes. Your last semblance of control before Logan completely shit-stomped it. An irritated groan fell between Logan’s mouth as he slammed his hands against the wall, the shelving where you were propped up on shaking. His head dangled between his shoulders as he breathed heavily. “Show me how you touch yourself when you think of me.” That was the final straw, the endless teasing towards one another had finally broken. There would never be a way to go back from this, and you fucking thanked whatever or whoever was listening. Check fucking mate, Logan Howlett. That was all you needed to push forward.

You pulled at the side of your panties, swinging it onto the other side of your cunt as you opened your thighs up a bit more. The delicious stretch was aiding in the opening of your folds, letting the crisp air of your room lap through them. Logan drew his head up as he heard your silence, a painful growl slipping through his lips as he drew his brow together in pain. Nothing in this world could’ve prepared him for the sight he sees in front of him, the picture perfect gorgeousness, the thing he wanted tattooed on his brain. It was the purest form of Logan you could’ve possibly gotten; Veins of his neck bulging, eyes slanted so close to being closed, labored breathing like he ran a marathon. This was The Wolverine.

The sight on your phone made a fresh wave of your slick run out of your cunt, seeping onto the thin fabric between your cheeks. Using your first and forefinger to part yourself, you made sure to keeps your eyes on the mirror, eyeing the camera as you rubbed your pearly nub. The bead erect with arousal, begging to be touched. A simple flick of your finger across it had your entire lower half jolting. The sensation almost too much for your sensitive clit. Chewing on your bottom lip to help calm you down, slowly you began to make tentative circles with your first and middle finger, getting used to the sensation as your other hand slipped right under your bed to your secret box, one that no one would suspect.

Logan didn’t miss how you rubbed yourself so tenderly, loving yourself in the greatest way possible, while watching the perverse side of him come alive. He felt so naughty watching you masturbate, listening to his directions in the fucking alleyway. If he ran fast enough, he could be at your apartment before you made yourself orgasm, able to eat you out until you were crying for him to stop. No, this’ll do. He also didn’t miss how you reached frantically under your bed, eyes still on him as you grabbed a velvet bag. The purple glistened against the LED strips lights in your room, the multichrome coloring reflecting rainbows against your fingers. Quickly you worked the bag open, trying to grab at the first toy you could reach. Of course, it was not only the biggest dildo you had, but also happened to be yellow and blue. When Logan saw that, girth and all, he was roiling.

With how wet you were, you didn’t need lube to push your toy into you. Needy didn’t even touch upon how you felt. “Easy there baby, inch at a time. Ease it in, that’s it.” Logan cooed as you struggled to stretch around your toy, the burn already aiding in your arousal. Nodding at Logan’s words, you slowly inched the toy within your tight hole, never letting up on your clit to aid in the stretch. “L-Lo,” you moaned out quickly, eyes rolling back as your head lulled. If Logan was anything like this toy, you’d be unable to walk in the morning, you were hoping for that. “What, sweetheart? Feel too good?” Logan mewled as he gripped his tented cock through his pants, reveling in the harshness at which he was grabbing it. The bark he let out made your body shake, the thickest part of your dildo fully sheathed inside of you. “You deserve to feel this good honey, you’re the best girl.”

The praise was too much as you reached the base of the toy, your lower belly feeling so full of it. Carefully you pulled back on the toy, letting half of it out before you pushed it back in. The rigidness of the silicone rubbing against your spongy spot made you gasp, a throaty moan slipping into the night’s air, echoing throughout Logan’s headphones. “That’s my girl, nice and steady baby.” Logan had no idea what he was even saying anymore, or where he was going. All he knew was that his mouth was going and his feet were moving. Where they’d end up? He’d find out sooner or later. Palming himself as he steadily walked, Logan cut down the corner of the alley, making his way left. “Stretch that cunt out for me honey. I’ll fill you real soon.” Looking down at his screen all he could see was your blissed out face, the hearty stretch of your pussy around your toy, and the absolutely hot sight of your glistening body in his colors. “Just keep going, focus on my voice.”

Nodding at his words, you started to move the toy faster inside of you. The grip you had on the base helped it to conform to your cunt, filling in every ridge. Words escaped you in this moment, all you could do was focus on Logan’s face on your phone, watching how he never looked up at he walked, eyeing you like you were the World Series. Cresting behind your eyes was your orgasm, threatening to take you out with one swipe of your fingers. You couldn’t finish so soon, you wanted Logan to see exactly how it was for you. But there was no use, your arousal was so high, you were going to cum one way or another. The small squeak you let out caused Logan to stop in his tracks, glaring down at the phone will his full, undivided attention. “Look at the mirror baby, watch how sexy you are when you cum.” The breathy moan to which he released those words caused you to unleash the deepest groan you could muster, eyes blown out to nothing as you looked in the mirror.

Just like that, like the snap of your fingers, that string tethering you and Logan together snapped. Everything went white. Your ears rang as your throat became raw – yet no sound broke through. The sweetest coaxing could be heard miles away but yet it faded quickly. The world wasn’t spinning or moving for that matter. Instead, it was just staying still, letting you soak in this orgasmic bliss. Slowly the fog began to clear for you, your vision turning solid again as you watched the mirror. Heavy panting made up the sound coming back. The shaking of your body slowing down the longer you twirled the toy inside of you, rubbing your fingers deftly across your clit. Little by little, the blissful nature of your orgasm satiating that deep hunger looming in your chest. “That’s my good girl, making me so proud.” Logan’s tender voice cut through the staticky sound as your breathing steadiest itself. Licking your lips as you let your eyes wander around your room, you noticed that your tripod was a lot taller than you initially realized, almost looming over you as your fingers never stopped. Only that wasn’t your tripod, and that voice you heard was coming from directly beside you.

“Hi, princess,” Logan smirked into the mirror, meeting your gaze as you realized what was happening. It took a moment for it to register, wondering why he looked so much bigger now. Watching the figure of Logan reach between your legs in the mirror, it only clicked to you when you felt his grip close around the base of the dildo, pulling it out of you with cautionary ease. Shivering from the loss of girth within you, you snapped your head to the right as Logan caught your eyes. Smirking, he waved the wet dildo at you, chuckling as he threw it onto the bed. “H-Hey Logan,” you managed to let out, gulping down the pool of saliva in your bed. Nudging his chin behind you, Logan ran his calloused fingers over your chin, gripping your skin firmly. “Get on the bed.” It wasn’t an ask, it wasn’t a question. It was an order.

“Logan-“ you began, but were stopped when Logan grabbed at your throat, pushing against your pulse point with two fingers. The new sensation made your core clench around nothing, pulsating openly as you looked into Logan’s obsidian eyes, trying to make out what was going to happen. “Now.” Logan ordered, grabbing you by the neck and waist as he helped you up. Standing on wobbly knees was not a good idea, but damn it if it didn’t feel good. It took a moment to acclimate back into your body, Logan’s bodyweight kept you upright as you struggled. “Don’t make me tell you again, you won’t like that.” The threat made you want to break it, break him. Playing a brat for him would be a fun adventure, but the desperate nature of your arousal made you reconsider. Yet you were naturally doing it, and Logan was going to love punishing you later. “Very good girl.” Logan praised as you slowly sat back onto the bed, letting the silky material of the duvet caress your body.

How did he get in here? That was a question crossing your mind, nothing else but how. He wasn’t there all the time and you knew it, remembering that you were FaceTiming him. Narrowing your eyes in the direction of the bedroom door, you thankfully had a clear view to your front door, seeing that it was shut but – not quite perfect anymore. A smirk laid across your lips as you noticed the claw marks on the door, specifically around the doorknob, you assumed on both sides. Plus, the small splinter on top of his hand that he is currently picking out was enough tell for you. Logan had used his claws to unlock your door and get into your apartment. He was never going to the bar, this entire time he was walking to your apartment. It made sense now. This whole time he was coming to make you his. The revelation caused you to whimper out of pure love, no longer lust. Of course though, that didn’t last long. For what you saw next, shook you to your core.

Standing in between your legs was Logan fucking Howlett. The Wolverine. No longer did he wear his TVA jacket he was given earlier this year, but instead stood shirtless over you. The sweat on his body caused his chiseled physique to glisten in your room, his natural musk making your hornier by the second. His pants you had seen earlier of the same color scheme you are wearing, brushing wonderfully against your baren thighs. The reinforced nylon feeling like silk across your skin. Panning your eyes up to his hands, slowly Logan started to release his claws, inch by inch. A pained expression crossed across his mouth at the extension, but he fucking loved it. Why can I only see half of his face? As your eyes made their way upwards, no longer could you see his darkened eyes, instead replaced with something that shouldn’t have been considered hot. Across his eyes, around the top of his head was The Wolverine cowl, complete with, as Wade called them, blowjob handles. The animal himself, standing right between your legs.

You sunk back slowly on your elbows, stretching your legs open wider to fit all of him. Biting your lip, you looked up at Logan between your lashes, panting like a bitch in heat as you take him all in. “You want to see the real power yellow and blue really holds?” He growled, lightly tracing the dull edge of his claws against your sides. Yes, you do. Needless to say, this was the start of you wearing his colors, especially if this would happen every time.

----

Tagging: @livelaughl0ve3 @mehjustalasshere @allen-444 @begaytotallygay @tezooks @hughj1d @pinkanonwriting @craziersarah98 @actuallybridgetjones

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cornyforjk · 2 months ago

Text

Drive you crazy | Day 1 | jjk

SUMMARY In which you are stuck living with an arrogant rookie racer who thinks of you as an obstacle, ready to ruin your glory, but things get heated when he has a pervy smile hidden under that pretentious attitude. Emotions that are complicated. You could never fall for your enemy! He's sabotaging you.

Pairing: racer!jk × racer!oc

Genre: angst and pure filth smut

Warnings: trash language only for now.

A/note: HI I'M SCARED BUT HI ALL THE BEST HAVE FUN . First chapter out and I am already head over heels for this Jungkook. I'd say to keep your hobi water ready anytime cause the spice never ends.

___________________♡____________________

"You'd be better off as a pornstar, why not start an only fans page."

The guy beside me whispered as I clenched my fist, a helmet covering his face. Well he was lucky the helmet was there to protect him, or else by now, his limbs would've fallen apart, bit by bit until he was screeching for mercy.

"Stay out of my way." My helmet was a barrier to the fiery glare I was sending his side. I heard him emit an audible but distressed sigh as his tongue clicked in disappointment.

I scanned him from head to toe, not as if I knew him, but my desire to call him a "gay stripper" grew stronger with each tap on the floor.

I close my eyes, collecting my thoughts that were scattered around an endless black hole. Echoes of heels clicking against the floor catching my attention, ear perking up I fix my posture, shoulders rolling back, clearing my parched throat.

A woman with huge circular glasses resting on the bridge of her nosewalked in. Her pencil skirt accentuated her broad hips, her blue eyes fixed on the notepad wrapped around her arm, and the silver metallic pen held her elegant hairstyle together.

She was the definition of what I call 'classy'.

I suddenly felt my shoulders slouch down when her blue icy eyes scanned me, her orbs slowly widening in astonishment. I raise my hand giving a small wave with a crooked smile.

Maybe that was a bit too crooked. Screw it! She can't see me.

"Ahh..." I suddenly squealed under her intense gaze that was scanning me over and over again, pushing the glasses that adorned her button nose back. She cleared her throat grazing over her notepad one last time.

"Lady, you know I am still here, right? Maybe you can do this goo-goo eyes after I'm checked in." The guy beside me commented, earning an eye roll which he couldn't witness. I stomp over his boots, almost throwing my whole weight on his foot.

"OUCH!" He grunts, turning my way, maybe or maybe not glaring like Donald Trump after he found out his steak was cooked medium rare and not brought alive.

"Fight me you ceramic bitch!" He shrieks, ready to throw hands. I hide behind the elegant woman for protection who just watched us bicker.

She cleared her throat again, catching me off guard. She turns my way. "Jungkook and Y/n?" She pursed her lips, narrowed cat-like eyes waiting for our nods.

"Jungkook...more like junk looks," I coughed out, wheezing at that lame pun, perhaps no one has the sense of humour of a five-year-old. The world is turning tables pretty quick.

"Ms Y/n, you aren't supposed to be here?" She waits for my reaction as I freeze on spot.

"What do you mean I am not supposed to be here?" My voice slightly rising, "I checked in myself as the new rookie in racing." I practically throw air quotes at her statement, panic wavering in my

voice.

The so-called guy 'Jungkook' choked, his broad chest heaving up and down as he laughed.

Did I say something funny?

"You are at the wrong location, I think there was an error in our system while registering you, we may have added your name to the wrong list." She ran her index finger across her crisp notepad, eyes moving back and forth like a hawk.

"No, no, no, no-no." I gasped, "do you know how long it took me to persuade my sponsor?! This is my only chance to race; if I don't enter, all of my years of preparation will be in vain."

She looked at me with sympathy. "Can't you make any changes to send me there?"

"I'm sorry...you won't be able to reach in time and we cannot let you go until the board takes a look at this major mistake and have you safely enter your designated place."

She tapped her foot on the marble floor.

Suddenly my head dropped, audibly sighing as my fingers tapped against my thighs. Just one opportunity is given...and it will all wash over like golden sand at the seashore.

"Okay, sad. Moving on, I'd like the Keys to my quarters." Jungkook arrogantly demanded, pushing his hand in front of the woman. She looked at him with no emotion, rolling her eyes, once again checking the name list.

Think Y/n! Think!

I felt my heart clench, the corner of my eyes collided with the water. My craving to have wind tangled in my locks while the engine roared at the starting line with determined racers kept increasing.

That desire in my heart burning stronger than any fuel.

"I can race here!" I exclaimed, earning a groan from the tall man beside me. The woman blinked her eyes, glasses almost falling off her snatched nose.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, I can race on this track here in California, till then your board can sort out all their work." Adrenaline rushed in my veins like hope, secretly fist-pumping the air. Finally, this could work out.

"Listen up kiddo, this is California. Here racers make history. They don't sit on the track to have some pink princess tea party, so you can take that bag of yours and move your ass out of this place because you don't belong here." His words were foul, a snarl creeping on.

He was filled with bitterness, swiftly peeling off the helmet on his face. His action left me speechless.

His ethereal beauty was hidden behind the helmet; his soft, glowing skin was the centre of attention; his doe-like eyes were pools of overflowing emotions; his soft lips, the bottom one a little fuller, a mole on his cheek and one under his lip.

I would've stumbled on my face gazingat such charm if only he wasn't being a jerk.

"It's because women aren't usually seen racing here, in fact for the last 50 years no women had the guts to continue on this track." The woman abruptly spoke. I felt the uncertainty in her voice. She was trying to cover up for that jerk.

"but there is no rule against women racing here." I protested back.

"Yes there isn't but-" "Then I race here."

Jungkook's intense stare had my knees go weak. I could feel the sharpness and cold wrath all at once. An unspoken cold blooded war was rising between us.

"What do you think you are doing?" Jungkook exclaimed, his warm hand skimming on my shoulder, the grip crushing my meek corpse.

His jaw clenched and eyes obscuring, he glowered behind the lustrous locks covering his orbs that bled out of outrage.

outrage.

Staring into his eyes my body shook violently, I harshly pushed him away, disgusted by the warmth his hands held. "Don't touch me." My eyes were bloodshot red, wrapping my hands around my torso.

"I won't be outmanoeuvred by a jerk. Especially you, Jungkook."

___________________♡____________________

Teaser | Day2

DM me or send me an ask to be added in the taglist.

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amywritesthings · 5 months ago

Text

press four for more options. | part three.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 4k Summary: After seeing your ex with his new girl at a work party, you take the not-so-smart advice from a friend to call a sex hotline to get over him. Your match? A baritone bossy dom named Levi.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - smut, alternate universe (modern), sex work, phone sex, dirty talk, dom!levi, light dom/sub, guided masturbation, edging, pet names, sex toys, multiple orgasms, mentions of body image Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part two. / part four. | masterlist

“Hel-lo, is the idiot in the room still with us?”

A slender hand waves back and forth, back and forth, until you awake from your everlasting daydream.

Annie Leonhart sits across from you at your favorite coffee shop looking like the cat that caught the canary.

That knowing smirk hasn’t left her face since she sat down.

Curling her fingers, she pulls her arm and returns her hand to join the other under her chin once she’s finally caught your attention.

The small blonde squints her icy blue eyes, observing, deciding on what you’ll say before you launch your defense.

“That good, huh?”

Embarrassment is your first folly.

"I— What?!”

“I know a blissful climax cloud when I see one.”

“Annie.”

Sometimes Annie could be an ass, too smug for her own good, but she was a fiercely loyal friend and colleague.

Everything is meant in jest — at least, to you. Not many others got to avoid her wrath.

You lean over the table, reaching your hand out to cover her mouth.

She manages to duck your advances, expertly so, and rears her head with a small chuckle.

“Relax, no one’s listening,” she chides.

“That’s not true,” you argue under your breath. “It's a small shop. You know the vultures circle this place.”

“Not since the old thirsties got busted for their smutty book club — which, quite frankly, I resent losing.”

"You resent?" you repeat, mirroring her squint. “But you never ended up joining the old lady book club.”

“Mm, I didn’t,” Annie agrees, picking up her coffee cup to sip leisurely. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t listen. I looked up a couple of those titles for myself. In retrospect, they had good taste.”

“Seriously?”

“Dead.”

She pauses, setting the cup back on the table.

“So… are you going to make me work for the details, or what?” she finally leads, getting to the point while you skate around it with imaginary triple axels. “Did you call again after Friday?”

You did.

In fact, you've called several times — almost every night since last Friday with the exception of Tuesday, since you’d fallen asleep as soon as you hit the couch after working overtime.

It’s now another Friday afternoon, one week from the first time you’d called the hotline, and you’re wondering what constitutes bordering on addiction.

“I have,” you confirm.

“That’s all you’re going to say?” she chastises with a grimace. “Boo — tomato, tomato.”

“What?! What did you want me to say?”

“For starters, who the guy is.”

“Not happening.”

“Loser.” A beat passes. “But it’s not Bert?”

You shake your head vehemently.

“Definitely not Bert.”

“Thank god,” she exhales. “I like you, but I don’t know if I like you enough to be calling up the same dude to get our rocks off.”

“Jesus, Annie.”

“Oh, come on, don’t be such a prude.”

You pick up your own tea, sliding it across the table before taking a tentative sip.

“I don’t know how you freely talk about this like we’re trying out restaurants.”

“Because it’s not real?” she suggests, and your stomach flip-flops.

You know it isn’t.

It’s a job.

It’s his job.

“I don’t know,” Annie continues, sitting back against her chair with her arm draped across the curve. “It’s no strings attached and hot. I’ll never meet Bert, and he’ll never meet me, and it isn’t like he’s going to ask to hold my hand and beg me to meet his mom.”

“You’re such a commitment-phobe,” you comment with the roll of your eyes. “You won’t ever meet anyone’s mom.”

“Yeah, because I’m not a psycho,” she replies with a snort. “I take it you went premium?”

You nod once. “Levi suggested it.”

Her eyes widen, delighted, and you scowl at your own stupidity.

“Levi?”

Ah.

Fuck.

"Wait." You sit up taller. “Don’t—”

“Oh, that’s a hot name.”

“Annie, I swear to—”

She sours to herself. “Damn, that’s so much hotter than moaning Bert.”

The tea in your cup bubbles from your chortled breath.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, not my favorite name ever, but that’s fine — because it’s more like he’s moaning Annie.”

Paired with a wicked grin, your friend winks at you.

“We have two very different wants.”

You squint, and her grin widens. “Wait, do you—”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh my god, Annie.”

“What?!” she chirps with a chuckle. “You like the bossy ones, I like being the boss. You’re not allowed to kink shame me. We’re in this shit together.”

“Who said I like being bossed around?!”

She points her finger at your facedown phone.

“Porco Galliard bosses people around. I’m not stupid. And you scream ‘I don’t like being assertive’.”

Great.

The same observation Levi made over the phone without ever meeting you in person.

“Whatever, that isn’t the point,” you wave off, deciding to try and swerve the subject. “I wanted to ask: how many times do you call a week?”

Annie presses the tip of her tongue against her cheek as she considers.

“A week? Maybe two, three at most. It used to be a hell of a lot more, but I’m working a lot of late nights.”

“When you say ‘a hell of a lot more’, do you mean—?”

“Daily?” she finishes for you then tries to recall. “Why? Are you daily right now?”

You hate yourself for a second.

“Sort of? It’s only been a few days, but—”

“Hey, that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

She reassures in that randomly serious way Annie can pull on a rare occasion.

Making fun of people might be her favorite pastime, but if she can sense true withdrawal from her friends, then she’s quick to stop.

The blonde reaches over the table to pat your hand, but it’s hardly a comfort.

Annie is about as comforting as raw-dog wearing a hand-knitted sweater by an amateur: it's itchy, too tight, and you want it to stop immediately.

“You’re a grown woman with grown woman money. If guys can go get blue balled at the strip club, then why can’t we call a hot guy over the phone?”

Again: not comforting at all.

With reluctance, you nod.

“You have a point.”

“I know I have a point.”

“Then again, I don’t know how long term this fix can be,” you reason. “It’s very expensive.”

“Yeah, but you know what’s more expensive?” Annie retorts. “Hooking up with a stranger at a bar who’s abysmal in bed. Maybe not so much for your wallet, but definitely for your ego.”

“And your sanity,” you agree, “if they’re weird.”

“Or a creep.”

“Or a serial killer.”

“A weird creep that happens to be a serial killer.”

You both give each other a look, an unspoken conversation of two delusional women saying ‘exactly’ in a singular gesture, as you sync the sips of your drinks.

— —

“Do you ever — ha — use to — oh — ys?”

You’re not sure why you’re so chatty with your rabbit vibrator barely hovering over the hood of your clit.

A week ago, you would've been trying to smother yourself with a pillow for talking.

However, with each night you’ve called Levi, the more comfortable you’ve become.

More bold, if openly using toys tells him anything.

The avalanche that brought you here was quite swift.

Traffic lights no longer remind you of the cars on the road but the man waiting for you on this hotline.

A willing striptease; a compliance to do what you wish but let him take the lead.

All you had to say was ‘my hand’s getting tired’ during an edging session.

All Levi had to reply with was ‘if you had a toy, I’d allow you to tag it in’.

Allow.

Like you’re completely under his spell.

Like you couldn’t have been using one from the get-go, but you listened.

You said you did.

He said grab it.

(God, you always listen.)

Now you’re here, legs spread in the center of your bed with your phone sitting between the valley of your breasts as you talk to him through the speaker.

“I am right now,” Levi replies in that diplomatic way of his, the lift of his voice telling: he’s amused by the way you try to speak to him, even when you’re ready to scream with impatience.

“I meant on yourself,” you exhale shakily.

“On myself?”

“Like on c-calls,” you stammer, forcing yourself to focus.

He loves when you lose your mind.

You refuse to cave so fast tonight.

“A mystery for another day,” he teases, before adding in a firmer tone: “You earned it. Touch it to your clit, but don’t go inside yet. I want you wet and ready for me, understand?”

“You’re so mean.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he softens for just a moment. “And don’t talk back.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” you joke, before pressing the device against your clit.

The vibrations surge pleasure down your legs, causing your toes to curl.

You’re not sure if it’s the ‘sir’ or the moan you emit that makes him groan in return.

“The answer is no,” he finally states.

For a second, you think you did something wrong.

Then you circle back, remembering what you asked in the first place.

Right.

The toys question.

“You don’t?”

“Not on me, no.” He exhales, slow and steady. “Too busy making sure I’m hitting the script.”

That’s the funny thing about these calls:

The fourth wall?

Broken.

He doesn’t pretend to be your boyfriend for the night, just as you don’t pretend he’s only yours.

You’re aware he’s a sex worker, just as he seems to open up about his profession when speaking to you.

At first Levi wouldn’t — it was meant to be a fantasy — but each night he’s divulged more.

Like how he used to be in the military. (Unrelated to sex.)

Like how he has an affinity for tea, going so far as to have a mild cup with you after a session in lieu of a cigarette. (Unrelated to sex.)

Like how he’s a Capricorn. (Unrelated to sex — kind of.)

In the midst of learning about him, you’ve learned about yourself.

You’re less vanilla than you originally thought.

With Porco, things felt regimented.

Scheduled.

You weren’t willing to open up your heart, much less your legs, because he was too cold behind closed doors.

Focused.

Driven to his work and passions.

Levi, on the other hand, will suggest leaning against the wall with your hand in your underwear, eyes forced to watch yourself in your full-length mirror.

To worship yourself, when he can’t.

To pump your fingers into your weeping core, when he can’t.

To give over complete and utter control with the promise that you’ll come as many times as he asks you to, because if he could be in this very room — this very apartment — he’d easily do it himself.

With Levi, you’re bold.

With Levi, you’re in.

So you’re not shy to arch your back, moaning into the receiver when you feel your first orgasm approaching you like the incoming tide.

“Levi,” you whimper his name, “can I—”

“Shit, baby, you know you can,” he practically purrs, already knowing what you’re going to ask. “C’mon. Let me hear that pretty little voice of yours, huh? Just for me?”

“Just for—”

The last word is garbled by the way your teeth clench, legs snapping together as the first climax hits after a relentless twenty-minute edging session.

It’s unreal.

It’s pain.

It’s bliss.

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

(Freedom.)

You pant, pulling the vibrator away from your body for a moment to catch your breath.

You hear him hum with approval on the other end, a low rumble against your chest.

“That’s a good girl,” he says after a beat. “Feeling better?”

“So much,” you confess breathlessly.

“You sound better.”

“Thanks to you.”

“Didn’t do much.”

“Oh shut up,” you scowl before laughing.

Turning off the toy for a momentary reprieve, you allow yourself to catch your breath as you grin up at the ceiling.

“Always so goddamn modest.”

“You’re one to talk,” he scoffs, shifting on the other end of the line. “Can’t take a damn compliment to save your life.”

You make a face like he can see you in the dark, but you decide to continue the conversation.

That’s a new thing the two of you have picked up — talking.

Lots of talking.

You get off, sure, but he knows your work drama, your chore schedule — your mailmen even have the same first name, funnily enough.

“I’m serious, though,” you exhale. “Do you ever like… get off? Without toys, obviously.”

“During a call?” he clarifies, and you nod. He answers like he can see it. “No, not — not typically.”

“Wow, so you’ve faked an orgasm with me,” you tease with a blissed out snort. “Shame, shame, I know your name.”

“I what?”

“Faked it,” you clarify, fluffing your pillows behind your head as you situate yourself on your bed. “As if I don’t hear you breathing all heavy and shit over there.”

Then something unusual happens.

The man grows quiet on the other side.

Nothing shuffles.

No huffs or ‘tchs’.

Just… silence.

“Levi?” you ask, brows knit.

A beat passes, but he answers.

“Yeah?”

“Are you good over there?”

“I— yeah, fine,” he clears his throat.

Uh-oh.

You frown immediately, blinking twice. “Sorry, was that a weird question?”

“Not at all,” he clarifies, gruff this time, “just… I said not typically, not never.”

…oh.

Oh.

Suddenly you abandon the rabbit and sit up in bed, eyes as wide as saucers.

“Wait.”

“Scarlet.”

“No, did you actually—”

“I already said too much.”

“No, wait, you can’t just imply that you’ve gotten off with me then abandon ship here, Levi!”

“I’m not abandoning ship — why do you say such weird shit sometimes?”

“How many times?!” you yelp.

“I’m not answering that.”

“Holy shit,” you exhale, “I’m so mad I didn’t pay attention.”

It’s like you can hear Levi squinting, narrowing his eyes with uncertainty on the other end of the phone. “...why would you be mad?”

“Because maybe I want to hear you get off, too?” you suggest simply.

Another agonizing breath of silence.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you place your phone on your sheets and pick up the vibrator, contemplating your next move.

“Because I would totally love to just… I don’t know, make you moan, too? See what you taste like? Feel you lose control, pull my hair, hold my head down while I wrap my lips around—”

“Baby.”

Two syllables shoot out of his mouth, as if overwhelmed with shock.

Huh.

An Uno reverse in your favor.

You’re no Shakespeare, but what you say is as honest as words can possibly be.

“I picture you all the time,” you confess softly, pressing the rabbit vibrator’s first function.

A low rumble begins, and you guide it between your legs.

You’re already soaked from your session.

There will be little give to the toy.

“When we’re not on the phone together, I wonder what it would be like. I could be at work. I could be at a coffee shop. Like, holy shit, I was meeting with a friend today and all I could think of is how badly I’d love to just take you to it — maybe disappear in the back hall, find a bathroom? I’d bend over a sink. I don’t wear skirts all the time, but I’d wear one for you.”

You hear shifting on the other end of the line, but Levi is deathly silent.

Mindlessly, your hand takes hold of the vibrator and you press against your entrance.

With a tiny whimper, you push in, deliciously enveloped in a sea of vibrations.

“You wouldn’t need to wear a skirt.”

Suddenly his voice appears, and you accidentally push the vibrator further in, causing a strangled moan to exit your mouth.

“Le—”

“Pants are just as easy,” Levi cuts you off, a thread of a whisper. “Couldn’t take that much effort. Wouldn’t give a shit if anyone saw your damn clothes at your ankles.”

Suddenly the room burns.

“I just know you’d fill me up so good,” you whine, and there’s a sharp hiss on the other end.

“Jesus Christ.”

There.

You hear it: the waver in his voice.

“Yeah, baby,” he concedes. “I’d fill you so fucking good.”

You whimper, a pathetic little noise at the base of your throat, and he exhales a large breath — as if he’s been holding back this entire time.

“Promise?”

“When have I ever led you astray?” he challenges, a bit more strained now.

It’s the hottest thing you've ever heard.

“I wanna make you feel so good,” you breathe, ragged and wrecked, and there’s a small groan on the other end of the line.

“You already do, baby.”

“Not how I want to,” you argue in return, body pulsating with the growing need to release a second. “You’re so good at making me cum, but all I want is to take it how you want me — bend me over and fill me up, push me to my knees and stick my tongue out—”

“Fuck,” he curses sharply. “You’re so good for me. So, so fucking good, not fuckin’ fair.”

“Wanna cum with you.”

He groans, louder this time, and inhales the most deliciously jagged breath you’ve ever heard.

“Right there, baby,” he forces out. “C’mon. Give me one more. Just one more.”

You don’t need to be told twice.

You purposefully bite your tongue when you come a second time, squeezing your eyes shut with all of your senses focused solely on your ears.

A grunt, as if he’s holding back just the same before exhaling, slow and languid.

In your mind’s eye, you see it: how he uses his teeth to hold up his t-shirt, painting his abdomen with streaks of white as he holds himself back from climaxing too loud. His whole body trembles. He squeezes the tip, milking himself for all he’s worth.

Pulling the vibrator from your body, you turn it off and toss it elsewhere on your bed. Your body curls around your phone, trying to stay quiet so you can listen.

Shaky.

Exhausted.

Not typically, not never.

You say nothing, can’t, but a small giggle of euphoria emits from your throat.

Surprisingly, Levi chuckles back with that drugged slowness that comes with exhaustion.

“You’re too damn giddy after two orgasms,” he chastises, which only makes you laugh harder.

“Uh-huh, Huff ‘n Puff,” you tease right back, and he tsk’s right against the phone.

And in your heart, you know—

Know you’re in deep shit.

Know that you like Levi, even if it’s impossible to like a stranger.

Maybe when you get this month’s credit card bill, you’ll sober up from your crush.

But not right now.

Just not right now.

— —

The next morning, you’re up bright and early.

Skip the elevator to the apartment lobby.

Walk down the stairs to kickstart your adrenaline.

Skip the coffee at the local shop.

Choose a small cup of chai instead.

By the time you make it to the gym, you’re more ready than you ever have been in your life to take on the day.

— —

Forty-five minutes later, your sweat even has sweat.

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, the endorphins from a tough workout only make you feel that more excited to get your shit together. To be more mindful of your time.

(Totally not because your last call with Levi was unreal. Nope.)

Overall, you went from hating your life to — well, this.

Whatever this is.

Owning your self agency and worth after a pitiful breakup?

Unfortunately joining this gym had been Porco’s idea — he’s a treadmill hamster, and you got swindled by the sea of abs under his tank tops.

A ‘couples activity’, whatever that meant.

(Being sweaty and tired without an orgasm to finish it off never did feel rewarding.)

After the breakup you considered trying to get out of your 6-month contract, but Porco dipped first.

He joined Pieck’s crossfit endeavor somewhere else in the city, leaving you and this dingy little gym to commiserate together.

Now?

Now, you excitedly get ready in the morning to the gym — not to get thin or look a certain way to appease anyone else. A revenge body is bonafide stupid.

No — you don’t want to be anything but stronger.

Because Levi would probably think it was hot if you were stronger.

Maybe the next time you call, he’ll be impressed that you’ve taken to strength training.

Maybe he’ll give you some pointers — one more topic of conversation to be had.

Setting down the free weights back on the rack after a thorough cleaning of the equipment, you step out of the way of the other regulars gearing up for their workout and head towards the locker rooms to shower.

In the small pocket of your leggings, you hear your phone vibrate.

Digging your hand in to fish it out, you see a familiar name on your lock screen.

[A. LEONHART]: Yo [A. LEONHART]: We’re all going out Tuesday for drinks – u in?

All.

All means the department.

All might mean Porco and Pieck.

Annie must sense your apprehension, before adding:

[A. LEONHART]: Porky probs not going, Pieck’s got a family thing

Well, that’s two positives.

[ME]: I’ll think about it. [A. LEONHART]: Think about it????

[A. LEONHART]: 🍅🍅🍅

Her and her fucking tomatoes.

You snort and begin to write back—

But not before accidentally slamming chest to chest into a stranger.

The phone flies out of your hand like a bar of wet soap.

Like a Scooby Doo short, it alley-oops to the sky then smashes down against the black-speckled rubber gym floor.

Before you can even react, the person you’d bumped into is bending to crouch on the floor.

“Shit. My fault.”

Every cell in your body freezes.

Time ceases to exist.

They scoop your phone into their hand, flipping it over checking for damage.

Luckily, the screen is intact.

No fall damage.

But that isn’t why you’re frozen.

As they rise to full stance, your eyes are still downcast.

From their sneakers your eyes crawl up, up, up — noticing the basketball shorts that cut just above the knee with compression under armor peeking beneath.

On his torso is an emerald green tank top, clinging to his flexing abs, the fabric speckled with sweat.

His collarbones are defined; chin just as sharp as his cheekbones.

Then you meet his eyes.

A blue-ish gray.

The man standing before you runs on the shorter side — under average height for a man.

His ebony hair dangles and sticks to his sweat-slicked forehead, the ends pointed and shaggy.

It takes a moment until you realize you’ve seen that hair before.

While you’ve taken to walking on the treadmill for your warm-up these last several weeks, he’s typically nestled in the strength training corner of the gym alone.

Every morning that you’re here, he is also here diligently working on his physique.

He’s always in some squat position or lying on a bench, so you never paid attention to his face—

He’s fucking gorgeous.

“Looks like it’s fine,” he says casually, and your stomach falls out of your ass.

Baritone.

Smooth like honey, low like a rumble.

There’s no way.

There is absolutely no way it’s—

“Here.”

The man holds your phone out for you, brows knitting curiously.

You can’t speak.

Hell, you can barely breathe.

He shakes his hand to wake you from your shock.

“Take it.”

You know that voice like the back of your hand.

Wordlessly, you reach a shaky hand towards the phone to take it back.

You part your lips to speak, but no words exit.

All you can do is grasp your phone and pull it to your chest as you catch the scent of his deodorant with a mixture of musk when he passes by, none the wiser.

By the time you turn to say something, anything—

Levi from Scout Services Hotline dips into the men’s locker room.

Author's Note:

...oops.

Thank you for reading part three of P4! I continue to be blown away by the response. Because of your encouragement, I wrote one of the fastest updates I've made in ages. How are we feeling now? Let me know in the comments!

Thank you for likes, and even more love to those who choose to reblog this to help spread the word of this series or reply in the comments. ilu xo

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female reader #attack on titan fanfiction #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction #aot fanfic #snk fanfic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman smut #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #aot smut #aot x reader #snk smut #snk x reader #press four for more options

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b00kdiary · 10 months ago

Note

Could I request Azriel and Plus Size reader where they’re both new to the mate bond and she overheard Azriel and Rhys’ conversation about the “Cauldron being wrong.” She left before she was able to hear Azriel call himself a fool for even believing it for a second, knowing that he’s already kissing the ground his own mate walks on. She starts comparing herself to Elain and then starts lashing out, going to Rita’s every night and avoiding Azriel whenever she sees him.

Cauldron Blessed | Azriel

Azriel (ACOTAR) x Plus Size Reader

Warnings: Mature themes (18+), swearing, body-image issues, angst, and eventual smut.

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

'The Cauldron was wrong, so wrong.'

Those words played and replayed in my mind again and again, all day, every day, for the last week.

Wrong.

He said that the Cauldron was wrong- about us, about me.

Me, his mate- wrong.

It had been an accident, me overhearing them that night, a coincidence I had decided to come home early from my girl's night with Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie. Though with the Cauldron, there was no such thing as an accident, no such thing as coincidence.

I'd waded through the House of Wind, tipsy on wine and giggling softly to myself as I banged into the walls, thumping clumsily against the art pieces hanging and tripping over my own two feet. Giddy, I had been giddy, stumbling through the halls in search of him.

Azriel, my mate.

Only a few hours apart and I missed him, yearned for him, I felt the distance as if it spanned miles and the more I drank, the more I craved him. That's all I had been thinking of when I trekked through the empty halls, closer and closer to the lounge- just of my mate.

And that's when I heard it.

"The Cauldron works in mysterious ways," Rhysand's laugh drifted out to me in the corridor, and I came to an unsteady halt at the sound. "Feyre was my salvation; I didn't expect anything good to come to me Under the Mountain."

I smiled to myself, my hand coming to my mouth, shielding any sound that threatened to slip past- Az always teased that my lips loosened when I drank too much. Instead, I lean against the cold wall, warmth filling me as he gushed about my High Lady.

They were Cauldron blessed, that was clear to see.

"I think five hundred years of waiting for her was enough, brother," Cassian snorted, and I heard the faint sound of liquor pouring into a glass, wings rustling as one of the powerful males moved. "I know I never imagined my mate as a twenty-five-year-old human female, with a bite worse than mine."

I bit my lip as Cassian laughed, a loud, bellowing sound, so full of joy, so full of content, the mere memory of Nesta, human and utterly indomitable against him something that still brought him to his knees.

"The Cauldron must have a sense of humour," Rhysand teased, and I could practically envision Cassian rolling his eyes, a vulgar gesture thrown between the two males. "Connecting people in the most unexpected pairs, in the most unexpected ways."

"Like Elain and Lucien," Cass scoffs, loudly chugging back the remnant in his glass, "There's a pair I could never have foreseen, not in a thousand years."

"Proof that the Cauldron isn't always right," Azriel muses for the first time since I arrived, and my body almost croons at the sound- low and rough, moving over me as sure as if it were his hands. "She deserves better than any male friends with Tamlin, that's for sure."

She deserves better.

It was silly I knew, for the mere mention of her, the thought of her to make me feel nauseous, make my smile instantly fade, but I couldn't help it. It was hard for me to see a female as lovely as Elain Archeron and not feel inadequate by comparison.

Another who was blessed, so lovely that she had been gifted her seer abilities by the Cauldron itself as if her beauty and delicate demeanour weren't gift enough.

"Brave words, Az," Rhys whistled, and I had to force myself to blink away the picture-perfect image I had conjured of the middle Archerson sister, forcing myself to focus on their conversation instead. "Openly opposing the Cauldron."

"Brave or stupid?" Cassian counters tauntingly, and I knew he was drunk just from how loud his voice was, practically bouncing off the walls. "You think the Cauldron makes mistakes?"

"I know it does," Azriel challenges and it was that voice, that sure, quiet demeanour that I adored and desired so fiercely. I inch closer to the door, grinning at the idea of popping out and scaring them- but then he says it.

Says the thing that makes me stop dead in my tracks, makes my heart stop dead in my chest.

"Look at me and Y/N," Azriel sighs, and there's no joy, or adoration or yearning in his voice in memory of me, not like Rhys or Cass- no, there's dread. "The Cauldron made us mates... the Cauldron was wrong, so wrong."

There's a loud crack that echoes through the room, and it's that sound, and the feel of sharp debris against my palm, that pulls me from my memories. I blink through the tears, looking down at the crumbling marble sink, the corner pieces breaking off into my hands.

I sob through my teeth at the sight, small cuts leaking stark red blood down my fingers as I bring my hands to my chest. I can't see the looking- glass before me, not through the haze of tears, tears so strong it's as if I were made of them.

As if they had become a part of me.

It was all I had done the past week, cry and cry and cry- and avoid Azriel.

Every morning I skip training and breakfast, feigning fatigue or a full stomach, just so I wouldn't see him there. Each afternoon I'd get lost in the stacks and stacks of books in the library, so vast and endless that Azriel never stood a chance of finding me in the maze.

And at night I'd find solace wherever I could find a drink- Rita's, taverns, the Music Quarter, anywhere. Anywhere but at home, anywhere that I didn't have to see him.

I couldn't bear it, couldn't bear the sight of his face, even now the thought of his tilted smile, the beam of his soft hazel eyes, the touch of his scared hands and wild shadows, it made my whole body wrecked with sobs.

I couldn't bear any of it anymore- because none of it was real.

Every smile and touch, every kiss and moment where our bodies joined as one, where he confessed his love and devotion to me, it wasn't real. Azriel thought we were wrong, a mistake, a confusion, just wrong.

My hands shook as I wiped the tears from my cheeks, rougher than necessary, blood-smearing, but I was tired of tears, I was tired of crying, of feeling so unworthy. I was unworthy of him; he was beautiful inside and out and deserved so much better than me.

I sniffed as I lifted my gaze to the looking glass before me, and my heart hurt at the reflection, knowing that this was what Azriel saw, that this was why he knew the Cauldron was wrong. Every curve and roll and inch of flesh that I had, all of it, it was all wrong.

And I hated myself for it.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I take a step back and then another step, away from the reflection that taunted me, and mocked me, before forcing myself to look away. I swallowed against the dryness in my throat as I moved across the cold floor of my bathing suit, my body desperate for my bed.

And as I step over the door's threshold, and back into my old room in the House of Wind, I know it's not the same as when I had left it ten minutes ago.

He was here.

"Azriel," I gasped, halting at the sight of him- sat on the edge of my bed, his broad shoulders and powerful wings rising sharply at the sound of my voice, those hazel eyes meeting mine and filling with something honeyed and warm. "Wha- what are you doing here?"

He rises from the bed, elegant and still, his shadows dancing around him at the feel of my presence, the scent of my skin, and I shiver as he watches me, keen eyes gracing my stiff figure.

"Y/N," He sounds almost relieved as he says my name and my breath is caught in my lungs as I stay rooted to my spot, and he seems to sense my unease, as he doesn't move any closer to me. "You've been staying here for a week now; I missed you at home."

Home- the apartment we shared in town together, a cosy space that we had made our own.

Another thing I couldn't bear to face.

"I've been catching up with the girls," I say quietly, ripping my eyes from him and walking forward on numb legs. I tug at the hem of my nightshirt, his nightshirt I had stolen, feeling too bare before him and his eyes narrow at the movement. "It's just easier to sleep here when we have plans every day."

As spymaster it was Azriel's job to scrutinise, to observe and I felt every single part of that slot into place as he watched me now, watched as I moved toward the bed. I wasn't looking at him, I couldn't hold his stare- and he couldn't figure out why.

His shadows dance through the room, through the distance between us and I jolt, biting my lip when one brushes against my bare thigh- before scurrying back to Azriel in surprise. He inhales a sharp breath when his shadow whispers to him, telling him that something is wrong, I was wrong.

"I know you've been spending time with the girls," Azriel continues slowly, his voice tentative and soft as I move to the other side of the bed, furthest from where he stood. "I just feel like I haven't seen you at all... I miss you, sweetheart."

Sweetheart.

A sob threatened to rip from me at the name, so soft, so endearing on his lips and it took everything in me to not fall apart at that moment, to not crumble under the weight of it all. I shake my head, my back turned to him now and he watches as I tug back the duvet, my actions angry now.

"It's only been a week Azriel," I breathe through my clenched teeth, my tone so at odds with his and my body locking tighter at the sound of his impending footsteps. "Sometimes space can be good, it can be eye-opening, show us things we don't want to admit but know deep down."

My words hit him head-on, like a slap across the face- I don't need to see him to know it, I can tell just from the stillness in the room, the silence, so strong that even his shadows have withered.

I clench my eyes at the feeling, at the touch that strokes against my soul, him reaching out to me through the mating bond- and me slamming up every wall I have to keep him away.

"What does that mean?!"

I don't hear him until he's right behind me and when his large hand touches the small of my back, I jolt, stumbling into the bed to get away from it. I turn on shaking legs to face him, and I'm pressed into the mattress to keep the distance.

"What? Y/N-" His face pales, and I see the pain in his eyes, unlike anything I had ever witnessed from him before. It was raw, vulnerable as if five hundred years of existence couldn't hide the hurt, knowing that I had flinched from his touch, flinched from him.

A rejection- something he feared the most.

"Sweetheart, please, I don't understand," He shook his head, his beautiful face twisted into an agonised frown, and his voice trembled, weak, as weak as the hand that now reached for me, shaking as if scared to touch me. "Why won't you let me touch you? Why are you pulling away from me, why-"

He stops, and for a moment I think it's because of the tears steadily leaking down my face, the way my bottom lip trembles with the effort to hold myself together- but it's not. His nose flared, and the hazel in his eyes turned dark, narrowing down upon my hands.

"You're bleeding," He mumbles hoarsely and the pain in my chest triples when his scarred hands inch closer, my eyes fluttering shut the second he touches me, holding my palms in his and examining the small cuts. "What happened, sweetheart-"

"Don't! Don't- don't call me that, don't touch me," I croak out, my voice breaking and Azriel flinches at the cry in my voice, wings rustling when I yank my hands-free from his hold, as if his touch burned me. "Stop pretending, stop making me think you care, just-just stop."

"I don't understand, what do you mean pretending-" He pleads, his voice splintering, and I can see him thrumming with emotion, desperate to reach out to me, to hold me, but trying to respect what I had asked him. "I don't understand, help me understand what I did wrong-"

"I know how you feel about me, a-about us," I sob, my weak hands coming to my face, and I cry into them, so loud that nothing can muffle them, and I feel Azriel's' helplessness down the bond, still reaching for me, "It was cruel, to make me think-to make me think you loved me-"

"I do love you!" He snarls and my eyes snap open when I feel the familiar roughness of his hands against my wet cheeks, his grip unrelenting and needing as he draws me to him- and I don't have the strength to fight him. "Of course, I love you, why would you say that?"

His thumbs brush away the tears that won't stop leaking from my cheeks and somehow my fingers have found purchase in the material of his shirt, nails digging desperately, clutching him as tightly as he held me.

"You said it was wrong," I whisper, the words slurring in my throat, and I force my heavy eyes to his, force myself to look into those teary hazel eyes and confront him, with the burden I had been carrying alone this whole time. "You said that we were wrong, that the Cauldron was wrong."

His forehead creases, lines forming between the thick, dark brows as he peers down at me, and his hands don't release me, if anything they draw me closer.

And I see the moment realisation hits him, like ice-cold water seeping through his veins.

"I heard you talking to Rhys and Cass, you said we were proof," I gasp, feeling his shadows curl and wreath around my wrists and fingers, as if afraid to let go, as if trying to comfort me as I sniff. "You said we were proof that the Cauldron could be wrong, so wrong."

"I didn't mean you, Y/N, I would never mean you," He beseeches, his breath caressing my face, my lips and his eyes are so intense, so vibrant that I can't look away, "I didn't mean you, I meant me, I'm wrong!"

I suck in a harsh breath at his outburst and I feel it then- the self-deprecation, the vulnerability, the fear, it was all aimed at himself, it was all about him.

The silence stretches on as we stare at each other and my face must hold every ounce of my surprise and confusion, because he sighs, his forehead resting against mine. I see his wings sag behind him, as if defeated.

"I don't know how much you heard but I did not mean that the Cauldron was wrong to pair you with me," He mutters, his words unsteady, and my eyes flutter shut at his words, "I meant that the Cauldron was wrong to pair me with��you- the Cauldron has blessed me but forsaken you."

"Azriel-" I gasped, and it was now my hand that lifted between us, my hand that cupped his stubbled cheek, forcing his eyes to mine. "That's not true, I'm not forsaken, I'm blessed, I'm Cauldron-blessed, Mother-blessed to have you-"

"Y/N you deserve the world, the sun and the moon and the stars," Azriel's voice breaks, a sob gurgling in his throat as he nestles against my palm, now wet with his tears. "I have spent five hundred years being unworthy of anything, and now that I have you, I will spend the next five hundred being unworthy of you."

He felt unworthy of me, he thought that he did not deserve me.

"Don't say that don't- you've given me the world and more," I shake my head, forcing every inch of surety and strength into my voice, "I love you, so much, so much that the thought of you thinking we were wrong, it killed me Az, because you're all I need."

He shakes his head against my hold, but his hands slip down my back, down my waist and to my hips and thighs, fingers digging into my flesh, holding onto my meat for leverage and pressing my soft body against his firm one for dear life.

"Not once did I ever think you were the problem, I thought it was me," His brow furrows deeper at my words, and I see the denial in his eyes, in his face, "I see a male who is beautiful inside and out, who is powerful and skilled, who has been a saviour to this Court in so many ways and I can't come close, I can't ever be equal to that Az."

"Y/N, no-" He growls, nails carving crescent moons into my flesh.

"I'm not a warrior like Nesta or a ruler like Feyre," I continue, and I open up the walls I erected to keep him out from my soul and mind, letting the mating bond flow freely again- to let him see all I had thought these few days. "I'm not beautiful like Elain... I'm not enough."

"You are everything," He hisses, and I can feel his overwhelming pain as sure as if it were my own as he graces over my feelings and thoughts- as he takes in every disgusting, horrific thing I had thought about myself, about my body. "You are everything and more to me, Y/N."

Power flashes through his eyes and then his head ducks toward me, capturing my lips in his.

Time seems to slow when his lips meet mine in a gentle collision, the kind of impact that steals the breath from my lungs, the kind I can't get enough of. Azriel grumbles at the taste of wine on my mouth, his tongue lapping at mine as if devouring the sweetness.

"Azriel," I sigh, like putty in his capable hands, and like always, he's skilled with how he handles my body, so easily turning us so my legs hit the mattress, my body weightless as he lifts me to sit on the edge.

"I have seen you navigate politics and arrogant High Lords in a way that has us all on our knees," He mutters against my lips, and I croon at the feel of his hands languishing up my thighs and hips, squeezing the flesh, his eyes dark with desire now.

His nose brushes against my cheek, so bare, as he kisses and trails his tongue along my jaw, moving down my neck and I can't do anything but moan softly as he lies me flat on my back, his powerful body towering over me, covering me wholly.

"I have seen you cut down soldiers triple your size as if they were little more than weeds in a field," His canines scrape against the racing pule-point at my neck and my eyes flutter, neck exposing for him and back arching when his hand cups my breast over my shirt.

He settles between my thighs, and he groans when his hard length brushes my wet core, the smell of arousal heavy in the air, the kind of stimulation that made us both dizzy with need. I arch my hips up to meet him, needing to feel something, anything from him.

"And I have seen males and females alike marvel at your beauty, at your body, desiring to see you without a scrap of clothing on," Azriel's voice turns furious, dark, as if the mere thought of someone else seeing me naked made him violent, honed to kill.

"Az, please," I mewl, fingers clawing at his back, feeling the muscles ripple under my touch, his shadows in a frenzy, caressing and dancing and wreathing around my body, feeding off every moan that escaped me. "I need you Az, please."

He presses long, wet kisses against my jugular and I sigh in relief when I feel his body shift, hips lifting and the sound of a belt clinking as he unhooks his slacks, freeing his hard length from within.

"I love you, sweetheart," His head lifts, face tight with sincerity and I can feel the thumping of his heart against mine, those intense eyes capturing me wholly. "I love all of you, I love all that you are-"

"Body," His fingers hook into my underwear, and I gasp as he tugs the wet material to the side, fingers brushing my clit.

"Mind," Our sounds meld as he rubs the tip of his cock against me, parting my folds, spreading my arousal from my entrance to my clit, and his breathing deepens as I whimper.

"And soul." He pushes into my entrance, stretching me just from the tip and automatically, my thighs clamp around his hips and my back arches at the feeling of him.

"I love you, Y/N," He pushes in until his long, thick length hits my cervix and my cunt is stretched thoroughly, throbbing around him. I trace my hands up his arms, nails scratching along every muscle, every strong, lean plane of him.

"I love you too, Azriel," I whisper back, and when my eyes flutter open, I see him above me and I know that nothing else, no one else could feel this right.

He doesn't move, merely staring down at me, his eyes burning like embers- feeling the thought as intensely as I did.

The Cauldron was right, so right.

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

@mis-lil-red @hyemishii @assaultsofthought @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @loveareum @infintyfandoms @sarawritestories @eerievixen

Comment to be added to the tag-list >3

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel smut #cassian acotar #rhysand #acotar smut #smut #plus size reader #azriel x plus size reader #acotar fanfiction #sarah j maas #sjmaas #plus size smut #plus size y/n

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faewoozi · 28 days ago

Text

i win. ft hoshi x fem!reader ( 18 + MDNI )

summary: if kwon soonyoung has one hater in this universe it’s definitely you. despite having the same friend group you’re usually icy to him as you can't seem to get along to save your life. or at least that's how it appears. soonyoung though through his own curiosity discovers a truth you've tried to bury deep inside…maybe something else needs to be buried deep inside you, and it will if he gets his way.

♡ pairing: hoshi x fem!reader

♡ genre: smut w a lil plot ( growth! )

♡ word count: 9.5k

♡ this work feats: hoshi being annoying lmao, reader also being annoying. fingering, protected piv sex ( proud of myself for that one), oral ( receiving ), lots of descriptions of lady parts, there is a LOT of swearing in this one. some mild jihoon flirting too. let me know if I missed anything.

a/n: feel free to judge me for that summary because I deserve it lmao. as an aries i got that dawg in me so i'm probably just as competitive as hoshi. which is probably why reader is a lil petty. i could not imagine the chaos unleashed upon the world if hoshi could read minds in reality. anyway i'm having a ton of fun writing in this weird little universe. I think I was going to write Jun next butttttt there's a part two to this one specifically. Yes it is woozi x reader x hoshi why do you ask? I haven't revealed what Woozi's ability is yet either so it's gonna be fun! also time travel, campus radio dj!vernon is coming too because i've started working on that one as well.

“Is Soonyoung coming?” You found yourself asking despite already knowing the answer. Seokmin had finally come out of being stuck in his girlfriend’s armpit and actually wanted to see his friends for once. He had recently scored his first big paying theater gig and wanted everybody to come out and celebrate tomorrow. That meant you of course…but also…Kwon Soonyoung.

“Y/n he’s one of my best friends. I can’t not invite him. He even taught me to dance, I doubt I’d be scoring these kind of roles if he hadn’t helped me.” Seokmin replied in exasperation, but he was pouting. This wasn’t the kind of thing you could turn down without hearing about it every single day or your life with Seokmin.

“Fine. I’ll come with Jun, stay for an hour but the moment he starts up with me I’m gone.” You said in irritation, already regretting the idea that you'd be in a room with him.

“You know that old saying right? He’s only messing with you because he likes you. Or maybe because you started it. I don’t know, it’s kinda hard with Soon he doesn’t know what the high road is. If someone’s mean to him he takes that as a personal challenge to either get them to like him or to hate him more.” Seokmin responded and you frowned.

You knew all too well how irritating you could be but you didn’t start it. Soonyoung started it the moment he called you dour and boring — unprovoked no less! You'd been minding your business and no you were never interested in involving yourself with the weirdness Soonyoung got up to. That didn’t make you boring, it made you sane. So it was fuck him until the end of time. Or that’s what you were trying to project anyway.

“He started it. I’m just finishing things.” You snapped and Seokmin feigned hurt. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I said I’d come okay. That’s all you’re getting out of me. I do not have to be happy about it at all.”

“That’s…not nice. But I won’t complain. It’ll be fun. Lots of drinks, he won’t even know you’re there.” Seokmin said patting your shoulder gently.

You scoffed at Seokmin. “That’s what you said last time when we did that birthday dinner for Hannie and within five minutes we were arguing and I was about to hit him over the head with a fire extinguisher and go to jail.”

Seokmin couldn’t fight back a grin. “Oh yeah you did almost kill him that night. I forgot that’s why we stopped inviting you both to things. But you know what? After that night he told me he doesn’t really think you hate him. He was really freaked out at first. He said he’s always able to win everyone over. But not you, but then I don’t know…the next morning he was all happy. He said you didn’t actually hate him. You were just keeping up appearances, being tsundere or whatever.”

You sighed. “That’s because he lives in la la fucking land and doesn’t understand boundaries and reality. This is why I really don’t want to go.”

“Wow, so you mean it? You’re going to miss out on such an important event in my life because of one guy? Kwon Soonyoung of all people? He can dictate your whole life like that?”

You let out a groan. “Hey don’t use your shitty psych electives on me. I’ll go. But like I said one hour and then I’m gone.”

It took around forty five minutes for Soonyoung to figure out you were at Seokmin’s party. Longer than you anticipated but still right at the hour mark nonetheless. Which meant it was time to go, except you literally had no idea where your ride was. One moment you and Jun were dancing, giggling with one another and then the next he was gone and somehow Soonyoung was there. He had a wicked grin on his stupidly cute face and the grin was only growing wider.

The intensity of the urge to hit him and then kiss him was stronger than anticipated no doubt due to the fact that you were two red solo cups in with whatever jungle juice Mingyu threw together. That is what also made Soonyoung infuriating. Not only did he annoy you to no end but he had the nerve to be so enticingly attractive and sometimes hilarious while he did it, which made it hard to be his number one hater a title you took even more serious than your grades at this point.

“You come to parties now?” He asked, hiding his grin against the rim of the cup in his hand.

“Why are you talking to me?” You responded in irritation and he lowered his cup slouching against the wall to face you fully.

“You’re always so bitchy with me. It’d be annoying if I didn’t know you think I’m cute.”

Heat flooded your face for just a moment. How the hell did he know that? You never told anyone...well maybe Jun, glancing at him though he had the same shit eating grin he wore when he felt he was right or winning at something. And a good portion of the time he was wrong. He was saying this to get you riled up no doubt, just throwing stuff at the wall to see what sticks so he could use it against you at some point in some awful embarrassing way.

You let out a bitter laugh. “Funny, I thought you’d gotten past your delusional phase.”

Soonyoung leaned in closer his breath ghosting against your ear. “I’m practically shit faced but I know for a fact you want to ride my dick.”

This caused actual laughter to burst out of you. He was definitely drunk, and definitely trying to get under your skin. He usually went the obnoxious route, seducing you or whatever this was seemed to be a new trick he was trying out. You had no doubt that if you admitted it he’d personally make a website dedicated to the fact just to embarrass you. Or he'd rent out the band or something to broadcast it to everyone. Either way you weren't biting. “Soonyoung, you’re drunk. Get away from me.”

You started to walk away but he took hold of your arm pulling you back. Taking in the look on your face he immediately let go and took a step back. But he was still smiling, and it wasn’t his shit eating grin. This was something else. This was a smirk, a knowing — you didn’t like the look of that at all. Which is probably why you even bothered engaging him. The last thing you wanted was for him to think this was a conversation he won.

“Look whatever you think you know you’re wrong. Once back in sophomore year I think I told Jun you looked cute at the talent show. You had on leather pants — it was cool to see you dance because that’s the only time that night you weren’t talking and you weren’t fucking being the bane of my existence. The Y/n of now is wildly different and understands that leather pants, good dancer or not, you’re the absolute worst.” You said with a nonchalant shrug.

But that didn’t deter him at all. He looked bemused, utterly unconvinced by what you were saying, which seemed to infuriate you in your drunken state more. He should be wanting to argue, not just standing there smiling and looking completely rideable as he so helpfully pointed out. His grin widen. Shit. Did you say that out loud?

“We should make out.” He said in reply.

“Why the hell would I do that?” You asked in disbelief.

“Proof. If you don’t want me. Kiss me. I’ll be able to tell.”

You scoffed. “Fuck that. I’m going to find Jun.” You weren’t being baited into weird Soonyoung shit. This is why the two of you didn't hang out. Being his friend was akin to majoring in getting into nonsense, something you had no interest in. You begin weaving through people at the party in search of your friend. But Soonyoung was right behind you.

“See this is the response of someone who definitely wants to fuck me. I mean you won’t kiss me because you know it’ll mess with you and I’ll be able to tell. A great philosopher once said that sometimes two people have to have sex to solve their problems.” He downed the rest of his drink and tossed the cup absentmindedly, accidentally hitting Chan in the head who was striking out with some freshman in his chem classes.

“Ow what the — ah shit Soonyoung leave Y/n alone we agreed that if you came you would back off we cannot have the cops show up again.” Chan said rubbing his clearly fine head.

“I’m not bothering you am I?” Soonyoung asked glancing at you.

“Yes you are go away.” You replied, standing on your tiptoes in search of Jun who was tall and should not be this hard to see.

“Said like someone who definitely wants my cock in their —“

You turned, grabbed Soonyoung by his face and smashed your mouth to his. This was supposed to prove a point, it would shut him up, there were witnesses to see that you had absolutely no interest in him — except for the part where his arm snaked around your waist and he pulled you flush against him. And the part where his tongue was in your mouth and he tasted like something sweet ( but also like alcohol). Oh and the part where it was an achingly good kiss. A kiss you needed to stop.

“Finally.” A voice that sounded suspiciously like Seungcheol.

“It was so annoying watching them bicker.” Wonwoo definitely.

“God I wish that was me.” Awww Chan.

But nope. This had gone on long enough. You had an image to uphold. You pulled away from a semi dazed Soonyoung and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Then you spit on the floor.

“Hey! I live here!” Mingyu exclaimed in mild horror pushing through the crowd.

“Fuck that was so bad. Is that really how you kiss?” With such soft lips and gentle swipes of his tongue?

“Uh, yeah, I guess so. No one's complained before.” You frowned and then let loose a condescending laugh.

“Just shows the quality of the people you date.” You nearly shouted through your laughter.

“Hey!” An offended voice rose from the crowd but you didn’t see who.

Soonyoung stared at you. He stood there silent for nearly a full minute. The room held its breath wondering what would happen, Mingyu had his phone out like the cops were on speed dial and then Soonyoung stepped as close to you as he possibly could and bent slightly, lowering his voice so that only you could hear him.

“I’m going to make you cum so hard you forget your own name. You’re going to want my cock in you every single night. And because I like you so much I’m going to give it to you. Then you can have my soft lips and gentle tongue whenever you want.” He pressed a kiss to your mouth briefly and then he walked away disappearing into the throng of onlookers.

Suddenly Jun was at your side. “Oh my God are you friends with Soon now?”

Fuck Kwon Soonyoung. And not in the fun sexy way he wanted. But in the fuck him and his dog and his mom’s dog too kind of way. Because he had upended your brain. Who did he think he was declaring such filthy things to you at a party and then kissing you? And what was wrong with you? Because you found something thrilling and attractive about replaying those words over and over in your mind. Enough that occasionally at night your hand slid between your legs with them ringing in your ears.

And how did he know to say exactly what you thought of your first kiss? Soft lips and gentle tongue —- he nailed it. Just like he said he would. Somehow he’d discovered in that kiss that maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you said. He could have some endearing qualities but then he’d do something to infuriate you again, or maybe that was just easier than the alternative, actually trying to be his friend.

Maturity and growth were not welcome visitors in your life at the moment. You enjoyed the version of yourself that got to be petty and childish around him. Maturity would mean confirming what Seokmin said the other day but applying it to yourself. Maybe you messed with him because you found him attractive? Growth meant setting aside your stale grudge and actually attempting to be normal with him. But after the party? Those words? His declaration? He couldn’t win. He would be insufferable otherwise. There would be no giving in, Soonyoung simply could not come out of this victorious. You wouldn't let him.

“He’s the most competitive person we know. He’s going to make good on whatever he said. I know you know this.” Jihoon said as the two of you walked across campus to the library. No one knew what Soonyoung had actually said to you, they just knew he got quiet, which meant whatever he said required action. Soonyoung only got quiet when he was serious and he needed to strategize.

“Right, but Jihoon I know he confided in you. He tells you everything. Just say what you know and help me.” You pleaded.

Jihoon shrugged. “He only said that he wanted to ask you out. Shua told him you liked that Cuban place we went to a few weeks ago. That’s it.”

You looped your arm through Jihoon’s giddy at knowing this information for two separate reasons. Kind of cute he was seeking out advice from mutual friends to ask you out. Also good to know so you could turn him down and shatter his little pea brain, and ruin his plans of catching you off guard. You would not be swept off your feet and into his bed.

You and Jihoon continued across campus towards the library and Soonyoung came into view. You did a quick once over of him before taken sudden interest in a few people passing out fliers. As always he looked infuriatingly handsome. He approached both of you, his eyebrow raising at your interlocking arms.

“Y/n. Jihoon.” Soonyoung said. He seemed normal, laid back even, despite the fact that the last time you spoke or saw each other was over a week ago at the party. You’d been avoiding most other places you might go socially, usually going to third wheel with Seokmin and his partner when you needed social interaction. But definitely not Mingyu and Wonwoo’s or with Chan and Seungkwan. That was asking to run into each other. And who knew what he’d do?

“Soonyoung, should we talk about the party? Did I hurt your feelings?” You were trying to keep your voice sincere.

“We can talk about it if you want? And my feelings aren’t hurt, they’re…well you already know how I feel.” Soonyoung replied with a sly grin.

“I thought that was a joke and you were drunk. We don’t even like each other, why would we take something like that serious?” You said dismissively and Soonyoung burst into laughter.

“I don’t joke about where I stick my dick.”

“Yep I’m gone.” Jihoon untangled himself from you and immediately turned in the direction you came from walking off.

You took hold of Soonyoung dragging him away from the front of the library and open ears. “Thank you so much for broadcasting that in front of Jihoon.” You hissed and Soonyoung just shrugged.

“He’s my roommate he knows more about my sexual history than anyone. He doesn’t care.” Soonyoung said waving the thought of Jihoon off, and then a dangerous gaze settled over you. “Wow, you look really fucking good today. Did you do that for me?” You scoffed. So maybe his words from the party got you a little riled up, but he was taking this too far. You dressed for yourself and yourself only. You would never consider in a million years whether Soonyoung liked something you wore.

“This has got to stop. This is worse than us trying to kill each other.” You declared, but Soonyoung stepped closer. His hand came to rest on your shoulder, his fingers brushed delicately against exposed skin. You fought to keep your breath steady, why was he so close?

“Oh. So that’s what it is. You like when I touch you.” The words escaped his mouth like a revelation as he glided a finger against your neck and then beneath your chin. He tilted your head upwards to look at him. “Soonyoung 1, Y/N 0 and simping harder than I’ve ever seen.”

Your hand shot up smacking his away from you. He would not move you, it didn’t matter that he looked as good as he did. It didn’t matter that his touch was sending little shivers through you. Your face remained neutral, but a slight smile begin to edge onto it. “If you’re keeping score then I’m going to actually have to start playing the game.”

Soonyoung raised an eyebrow at this. “Meaning?”

“You think the way to winning this —- thing that occurred at Seok’s party is by trying to seduce me. I get it Soonyoung, you like watching me squirm because it gives you the upper hand in our never ending power struggle of who hates who more but I haven’t been playing. I don’t think you could handle it if I did.” You said coolly, watching his expression shift. His jaw set and you could tell his competitive nature was kicking in.

“I’m pretty sure I could handle whatever you throw at me just fine. And this isn’t a game Y/n, since kissing you at the party, I don’t know. Something changed. I know it has in you.” Soonyoung responds but you’re having none of it. You know him, you’ve known him for years and whatever this is, Soonyoung will slip up sooner rather than later. He’s not being sincere in anyway, when has he ever been?

“Fine. Then consider the score reset. Soonyoung 0 and Y/n 0. We’ll see who wins.” You gave his chest a harder than necessary pat and then headed into the library confident that if you start throwing a few moves of your own his way this whole entire thing will collapse in on itself and you could return to how things were meant to be. Mutual dislike between the two of you, no sexual tension at all.

Soonyoung was winning. He was definitely winning. There wasn’t a move or a fake flirt you could do that he didn’t have a response for. The other night while getting tacos with Seungkwan and Chan you had the brilliant idea of casually sitting in his lap. You just knew it would absolutely throw him off his game. Chan and Seungkwan’s heads nearly exploded from it, but Soonyoung wrapped an arm around you and then attempted to feed you as if it was something you did everyday. He wasn’t even flustered. He didn't even break his stride in making fun of Seungkwan, you were just in his arms and then you had to sit there so it didn't look like he had completely bested you. Which he had.

Tonight would be different you declared. Your uni had gotten into the playoffs for the baseball season. It was a huge deal for your friends since Mingyu and Seokmin were both playing. You'd only been at the game twenty minutes when Soonyoung sat next to you after bribing Jun to move with ice cream and a bag of cotton candy. You'd been on your guard immediately. But Soonyoung was doing what he had the other night with the tacos. Acting as if all of this was normal. He bought all your favorite concession snacks, he made you take two pictures with him and his hand kept casually groping your leg like you were on a date. You were so confused by the whole thing you just drifted along unsure how to respond. You certainly didn't want to argue with him and ruin the night for everyone since this was such a big deal.

“Have you ever considered that he might be telling the truth?” Jihoon asked later that night at the game as you two stood in line for the bathroom. Soonyoung offered to escort you but you forced Jihoon up and out of your seats faster than you thought yourself capable. “I get that he’s…excitable but when he’s serious about something he can change drastically. This wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Do you even hear yourself? We don’t like each other. We’ve been fighting since high school. I didn’t even know he’d wind up here. If I did I would’ve gone to my second pick almost immediately to avoid him.” You groan and Jihoon looks as if he wants to be anywhere but having this discussion with you.

“Have I mentioned before that I don’t like getting in the middle of things like this? Especially when it comes to Soonyoung he’s intense.” Jihoon offered and you began to pout.

“That is so unfair. Everyone is on his side. Maybe he’s serious y/n, maybe he’s just tired of bickering, maybe he isn’t as petty as you think. Bullshit. All of you.” You said jabbing a finger at Jihoon who furrowed his brow and craned his head away from you like you were crazy.

“Wow. You two…are a lot alike. That’s mildly terrifying. Anyway, fine hypothetically if I was on your side what would you want me to do?” Jihoon asked, his tone full of regret as you began to smile.

“Flirting with him isn’t working. He just flirts back and it seems to confirm this idea that I like him, whatever. So I’m going to completely burst his bubble and flirt with you.”

Misery overcame Jihoon’s face. He opened his mouth to protest but you were already shaking your head. “Too late. We’re flirting. Try and make the reactions authentic.” You say getting ready to disappear into the bathroom.

“And if I refuse?” Jihoon questioned.

“I’ll tell everyone that you like holding hands. Seok, Gyu and Soonyoung especially would love learning that about you. They’d hold your hand every chance they got.”

Jihoon looked horrified but cowed. “I shared that with you in confidence and now you’re using it to blackmail me. Seriously you and Soonyoung would probably be a power couple. This is exactly what he’d do. Like shit, I’m kind of floored at how immature you both are." Soonyoung was prepared for every move you threw at him but he absolutely wouldn’t be prepared for the ones that you’d be throwing at Jihoon. It was hard to keep a diabolical laugh from bubbling out of you as you considered the thought.

---

Now Soonyoung was staring daggers into the side of Jihoon’s head. At first he’d been a little confused when you both came back from the bathroom and you sat down leaning your head to Jihoon’s shoulder, who stiffened and then relaxed after a moment when it became clear his life wasn’t in immediate danger from his best friend. Then you shared snacks and you legitimately giggled when your hands bumped into each other like you were in a rom com or something. Even then Soonyoung seemed a little lost but not upset.

But then to your surprise while talking to Jihoon about music theory class, out of reflexive habit his hand came up to move hair from your face. A move that threw you off enough to blush because it wasn't in Jihoon's nature to be affectionate in anyway. Jihoon blushed too as if realizing he made an error and for a brief moment something felt …different between the two of you. But then Soonyoung shifted and when you glanced his way he was scowling harder than you’d ever seen him. Now he refused to take his eyes off Jihoon, the look of betrayal on his face was hard to miss. You found yourself feeling a little guilty, this was only supposed to amplify the pettiness between you and Soonyoung, you didn’t want them blowing up at each other over it. Jihoon hadn't actually done anything wrong.

Sighing you rose to your feet. “Soonyoung can I talk to you for a moment?” He glanced up at you and immediately his face shifted, menacing glare gone, he gave you an impossibly cute smile and stood following you out to a walkway that seemed not to have as many people milling about.

“Don’t be mad at Jihoon. You look ready to kill him. It was my idea to use him to get under your skin.” You offered, and his face grew pensive.

“Yeah I know that. You’re doing a bad job of fake flirting with him. That giggle you did earlier, your voice never gets that high pitched even when you do find something funny.” Soonyoung responded in irritation. “But his responses on the other hand —- he was totally into it. Which is messed up because he knows how I feel about you.”

Now it was your turn to be confused. “Wait why do you know so much about my laugh? What do you mean he was into it? How do you feel about me?” The questions came one after another because these were all new revelations to you.

“Obviously I pay attention to you. I know Jihoon, we’ve been friends since we were kids. He wouldn’t do what he’s doing without intention. And I already told you that I want to be inside you every single night forever what is so hard to understand about that?” Soonyoung responded nearly in irritation.

“I—this is a game Soonyoung. A stupid one really. Let’s call a truce. This whole entire thing has gotten out of hand. Maybe we don’t have to dislike each other. We can actually try and be friends for once. But I don’t want you mad at Jihoon and I definitely don’t want the implications of what sleeping with you would do to my sanity.” You respond earnestly because other people getting in the middle of it was never the plan.

“I told you before. I’m not playing a game.” Soonyoung took a step closer to you and you took a step back until you hit the wall. His knee pushed between your legs until he could get as close to you as possible. His chest pressed into you, his groin against your thigh growing harder as he leaned down, his mouth capturing yours. And oh did you fold, you didn’t even try to resist. It felt impossible as his tongue pushed into your mouth. It felt impossible as his teeth nipped and sucked against your bottom lip. It felt impossible as a hand roamed across your chest, brushing against your left nipple until it pebbled under a gentle thumb. He coaxes your lips open, his tongue claiming every inch of your mouth as he sucks all the breath from your body. A kiss from someone you hate shouldn’t feel this good.

His lips dust over the shell of your ear, and you shiver. And when his hand slides over the curve of your hip and between your thighs, you whimper. Your body’s torn between fear and anticipation of the pleasure he can bring you but at what cost? Your hands go up pressing against his chest to stop him. He pulls back staring at you with hungry eyes.

“What are we doing?” You whisper shout at him.

“Personally I’m trying not to cum in my pants right now while still maintaining an air of sexiness and attraction. You?” Soonyoung replied.

“I’m — I don’t know. This is the weirdest thing that’s happened to me in a long time.” You offer because he was literally just playing with your nipple. No reason to stand on pride at this point.

“Hypothetically if I knew somehow that you didn’t exactly hate me as much as you say, would you go on a date with me? So that at least this part of it makes more sense?” He asked, two fingers dancing between the two of you.

“Hypothetically? I guess that would be okay. The date I mean.” And Soonyoung grins.

“Tomorrow night. Like six or seven?” You stare at him bewildered because what else can you even say at this point?

“Sure fine, seven.” Soonyoung grins even wider, pulls you into a hug, spins you around and smacks your ass and then takes off screaming back towards your seats that you’re going on a date. Great the entire campus can probably hear him. You don’t even go back inside. That’s enough of tonight for you. That’s definitely enough Soonyoung. The moment you’re back inside your dorm your head rest against the door. Why? Why would you do this to yourself?

“So it isn’t a joke? You’re really doing this?” Vernon asked. He’d been away helping his family the past few weeks after classes and hadn’t been on campus to see whatever was happening between you and Soonyoung unfold, apparently Minghao couldn't resist keeping him in the loop though.

“Apparently. Why are you here again?” You asked rummaging through your closet for something to wear.

“When Hao told me what happened I thought he was bullshitting me. I needed to hear it from the source. I talked to Soonyoung first. This is crazy, you hate Soonyoung.” Vernon said, all teeth and gums as he laughed.

“I don’t hate him! We’ve had our differences but we’re working on them now.” You replied defensively.

“Remember when you lined his boxers with chili paste? Or that time you were on a date with that one guy and he ruined it by asking about your fungus thing you had last semester? Or last year when we had the pool party at my house and he untied your top in front of everyone and Mingyu got like en entire eyeful? Or when you shaved the side of his head while he slept with Seungkwan and he went to his dance competition like that? You guys hate each other. Did you lose a bet? Is he holding your family hostage?”

You frowned. In the the weird vortex you’d been sharing with Soonyoung for a few weeks now, none of those old things had come to mind. You’d been way too busy plotting on how to win this made up game between the two of you. But you’d forgotten how often you messed with each other and now you were suddenly contemplating if this was a good idea. You stopped what you were doing and came to sit on your bed next to Vernon.

“I forgot about that stuff. Maybe you’re right. Maybe this is a bad idea. There's clearly been too much damage done. Mingyu still can't look me in the eye.”

Vernon’s eyes went wide. “What? No, don’t change your mind! We’re just all shocked at this turn of events, well most of us. Cheol and Jeonghan said this has clearly been sexual tension the whole time but they like to pretend to be right about everything. You can’t not go. He’ll legitimately kill me if he finds out I changed your mind somehow. That wasn't even the point, it's just so unreal.”

“But this is silly. It all stemmed from this crazy idea he got in his head that I want to sleep with him and it just kept going and going. I still don’t know how he found that out. I’ve never told anyone ever that I think he’d be good in bed. But he’s a dancer it’s kind of a given y’know?” You mused aloud to Vernon who had grown super quiet. “What?”

Vernon looked conflicted, and he began to tug on his ear as he processed how he would reply. “I’m going to tell you something that sounds really, really insane. But I swear I’m not saying it without reason. Do you remember last year when Seok went missing for like two weeks and we were all super worried and freaked out?”

You nodded. His girlfriend was hysterical and spent many a night crying on your shoulder. Everyone had been shocked and terrified thinking he died or was hurt or something. What made it even weirder was that his parents had gone missing too. It had been a rough seventeen days for all involved. Seokmin had spent the last year making it up to everyone but he still wouldn’t tell you what happened. But it seemed as if Vernon knew something.

“So okay look it’s like this. The reason our friend group is so tight is because we discovered kind of early on we were all different. In a weird way. We’ve all got these abilities I guess. Y’know like X-Men and shit. So like Seok can travel to different universes. Kwan has like empathy or whatever it’s why emotions get so high in him and everyone around him. I think Chan’s is running fast or something. Mine is time travel, which I can show you but you won’t remember us having this conversation it’ll just feel like déjà vu.”

You gave Vernon a hard long stare. You had no idea what you were expecting him to say but it wasn’t anything like that. “What the fuck? Are you high?”

Vernon rolled his eyes. “Look just hear me out. Soonyoung can read your mind. You didn’t have to tell anyone about thinking he’s fuckable or whatever. He found out by invading your privacy. Probably not on purpose, he goes out of his way not to actively use it but sometimes, if someone is thinking about him hard enough he can hear it anyway. I know that sounds insane but tonight start off by thinking the worst stuff you can about him. Watch how he reacts, then you’ll know I’m telling the truth.”

After that, completely convinced he was messing with you, you put Vernon out of your room and began the process of getting ready. Soonyoung said you’d just have dinner and go on a walk or something. Nothing too serious, so you tried to keep things simple. Still despite it all coming off as a bad prank, Vernon’s words echoed in your mind. Thinking something bad about Soonyoung wouldn’t hurt anyone, you never had to admit to trying it either. If it was a prank it wasn’t one they thought out very well. You’d be more than happy to throw that in their faces later.

At exactly seven Soonyoung was at your door. He cleaned up well, and smelled amazing. Enough that you considered abandoning the date for a moment and getting back to what he really wanted. But, almost as if he could read your mind, Soonyoung had other plans.

“I know it would be super easy to just throw our clothes off and be all over each other, but I want to actually take you out on a proper date. I don’t want you to think this is just a sexual thing.” Soonyoung said before you even got a “hi” out to him. Your eyes narrowed in brief suspicion but you figured he probably saw the desire all over your face. You didn’t exactly hide it in the moment. Maybe that's how he was able to figure this whole thing out.

“Well that’s what I was expecting. Who said anything about taking our clothes off?” You asked in mild annoyance, and locked your door behind you.

Soonyoung didn’t reply, he looked at you curiously but didn’t try to prove a point. Which was for the better because your mind was already drifting to Vernon’s words. So of course you began to think of some of the more disheartening things you’d thought about Soonyoung over the years. None of which were exactly nice, that mostly had been thought of in irritation and malice to make you feel better about something rude he’d done.

The shift was subtle and had you not been looking for it you wouldn’t have noticed it. But the date started off fine. He held doors, made small talk, laughed at your jokes and made some funny ones of his own. After he paid for dinner though you found silence stretching across the table between you. He didn’t look happy, he kept shifting and glancing at you and then looking away when you caught him.

“Something on your mind?” You asked in disbelief, because his mood had changed. Just like Vernon said it would.

“Did I do something between the game and tonight? I mean — I thought maybe we were turning over a new leaf but you don’t seem…you seem to feel about me the way you always have like maybe I didn’t try hard enough. Did you not like the date or…?” Soonyoung said quietly and your heart began beating wildly in your chest.

“What makes you say that? Have I been acting different or something?” You asked.

“No, I mean I guess that’s the thing. You seem into it, but then you sort of don’t. I can’t explain it.” He said solemnly, and then he offered you a tired smile. “Whatever I’m just thinking too hard. We got what we needed out of this date right? We don’t have to take things any further but I would like to try being friends. Think I’m getting too old to be fighting with you constantly., Jihoon said it's why I keep finding random grey pubic hairs.”

You were on your feet immediately, pointing an accusatory finger at Soonyoung. “Oh my fucking God. Vernon was telling the truth. You read my mind!” You accused rather loudly, enough for a few heads in the restaurant to turn and stare at you.

“What!? Noooo are you crazy? That’s impossible.” Soonyoung said trying to pull off the worst acting you’d ever seen.

“This — you — Kwon Soonyoung!” You turned storming out of the restaurant angrily. How humiliating. How long had he been able to tell what you were thinking? Shame flooded you, some of things you thought about him you couldn’t even repeat aloud to yourself. And he knew them, this entire time! That sneaky little fucker.

“Wait! Y/n please let me explain it was an accident!” Soonyoung caught up to you, hands held up in surrender as he came stumbling from the restaurant.

“How do you accidentally read minds?” You snapped at him, unable to process that you were actually asking the question.

“At the dinner for Jeonghan when you were trying to hit me over the head with the extinguisher I was scared for my life! It took Mingyu and Cheol to hold you back and everyone was pretty sure you were about to kill me. I just wanted to know your intent because there was such hatred coming off of you, and so when I took a teeny tiny baby peek even though you were physically trying to assault me your mind was…you were thinking about how cute I was when I was scared. And that was weird….I didn’t know what to make of it. So as time went on I started paying more attention to your stronger thoughts, not invading your mind, but the ones that leak out because they’re so intense. All the thoughts you had about me weren’t violent or even that angry. You were definitely annoyed a lot but Jihoon has that reaction all the time too. I was just surprised because most of the thoughts were kinda hot.” He finished, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

“How long?” You demanded stepping closer to him.

“Huh?”

“How long have you been doing this?” You clarified and he looked sheepish.

“Since last year. I never stopped after the dinner. I was trying to work up the courage to talk to you about it or ask you out but everytime we got within six feet of each other we bickered and I’d forget. It wasn’t until we were at Seok’s party and I was drunk and just kept saying what was on my mind. And then you kissed me and you liked the kiss and —“

Your face fell into your hands. “Oh my God that’s why you knew what I thought about the kiss and why you said it back to me. It’s why I could never catch you off guard with the flirting. It’s how you knew I was faking it with Jihoon! This is — fuck you Soonyoung! This was a game that would literally be impossible for me to win, because you have telepathy!” You let out a hysterical laugh.

Soonyoung looked at a loss for words. “Why do you keep saying that? It was never a game for me. For two years I’ve been trying to work up the courage to say something. When I did I was drunk and it was the wildest thing I’ve ever said but it got a reaction out of you. And I wanted that so I just kept going because we would be amazing together if we stopped fighting for once.”

You stared at him. You had no idea what to make of things now, it all seemed too much. Learning telepathy was real was already a huge ask, learning that all this time Soonyoung’s feelings had been genuine and you were too annoyed with him to see that kind of overtook the telepathy thing.

“So—what now?” You asked because you genuinely had no clue what to do or say next. Your mind was a mess, you were in shock definitely and couldn’t form coherent thought.

“You win.” Soonyoung said, taking your hand in his. “I’m the prize. Let’s go.”

Soonyoung is in the living room in just his tight briefs. Your eyes are drawn like a magnet to the outline of his cock. He’s fresh out of the shower ( he got really nervous and sweaty on the drive home ) and you’ve relaxed some from earlier with two drinks and a lot of conversation about telepathy. You’re hovering in the kitchen nursing a glass of water wondering why in the world you agreed to come back to his place with him.

“You enjoying yourself?” He asks as he catches you staring.

He crosses the room and stands right in front of you. A solid wall of muscle and sex. It’s as though he has some kind of magnetic field around him. His presence is inescapable. Once you’re in his orbit, you can’t seem to think straight. You act like somebody you don’t even recognize. Your pussy develops a mind of it’s own. He is so full of potent, raw sexuality and energy. Everything about him screams run away, but your body is drawn to him anyway.

“Who am I kidding,” he says, his voice low and deep, as he bends his head and brings his mouth closer to your ear. “I stare at you no matter what you’re wearing. So I’m no better.”

“Stop,” You whisper. You can’t do this. You cannot let this man get a hold on you, because you know he was right earlier. You would be so good together. For whatever reason, you have insane chemistry, and you can’t let him take this any further. You can’t allow yourself to have any feelings for him. That would compromise every rule you made for yourself when it came to Soonyoung.

“I can’t stop,” he says, his voice dropping another octave. He places a hand on your hip, and your skin blooms with heat. “Believe me, I’ve tried. I need to fuck you more than I have ever needed anything in my life.”

“We can’t,” You protest, but your voice is so quiet it’s barely audible.

“We can.” His other hand is on your other hip now, and he pulls you closer to him until your bodies are almost touching. “Look at me,” he commands.

And you do it. Just like that, because he told you to. Because your body obeys him and you don’t even know when that started to happen. You blink as you stare up at him. His pupils are so wide, they make his brown eyes appear black. They are full of longing and fire and need.

“It wouldn’t work. It would be a huge mistake,” You offer feebly.

He shakes his head. “No, it wouldn’t, and you know it. Let me take you to my bed and I’ll show you exactly how much of a mistake it wouldn’t be.”

You open your mouth but no words come out. All you can focus on are his strong fingers flexing on your hips. How good they felt last night when he touched you at the baseball game. How much you wanted him to carry on before you stopped him. Your core contracts, flooding your pussy with heat and making you suck in a stuttered breath.

Soonyoung narrows his eyes at you. "I’ll make you a deal.”

“What deal?” You breathe out the words.

“Look at the clock on the wall behind me, and if I can’t make you come in two minutes, then you can go to your dorm. But if I do make you come, then you spend the night with me. What do you say?” His voice has taken on that trademark competitive edge. He’s all cockiness now. Typical Soonyoung.

You lick your lips, staring at him. You’re already wet. But under two minutes? There’s no way he could pull that off. You’ve never had anyone make you come that easily. Not even guys you were really into. And you don’t even like Soonyoung, so you can hold out, right? Besides, every cell in your body is vibrating with sexual energy. You want his hands on you. You want his fingers inside you. Just this once. Just to relieve this constant aching need in your pussy. Just once. “Okay, but when you don’t get the job done in two minutes, you don’t get to leave me hanging,” You say with a tilt of your head.

He smirks, full of confidence and arrogance. “I’ll make you come no matter how long it takes. I promise.”

“Okay,” You whisper. What the hell are you doing?

“Eyes on the clock then,” he orders. “And be honest about the time.”

“Of course,” You insist, your eyes now trained on the clock behind him, watching the second hand tick around.

“Then start timing me,” he growls. It takes him exactly two seconds to get his hand inside your panties. You place your hands on the counter on either side of you to keep yourself steady as he slides his fingers through your folds. “So wet already,” he says with a wicked grin. “

“You have one minute and fifty seconds,” You tell him as the clock goes on ticking.

“Plenty of time,” he growls as he starts to rub the pads of his middle and pointer fingers over and around your swollen clit with the perfect amount of pressure. Pleasure skitters around your body. He presses his lips against your ear. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” You breathe, your knuckles turning white as your grip on the counter gets firmer. He’s still not going to do this in under two minutes though. But then he starts kissing your neck. Trailing his lips and teeth over your sensitive skin as he dips his hand further into your panties, pulling them down as he works his entire hand between your thighs and forces you to spread your legs wider apart. One minute, thirty-two seconds left.

“You like this more though, right?” Soonyoung whispers as he slides a finger inside you. He eases it in and out of you, and you bite your lip to stop from screaming his name and begging him for more. You’re not giving him any pointers. One minute, nine seconds. Clearly though, he doesn’t need any help. A few seconds later, he adds a second finger and your pussy coats him with slick heat and practically purrs his name.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he gasps out clearly enjoying this just as much as you are. He drives deeper until he hits your G-spot and starts to massage it with his skilled fingers. Holy mother of fucking God. Fifty-two seconds. You wonder briefly if he can hear your thoughts.

“I can.” He responds with a dark laugh. “I like it. Keep going.”

“Ok,” You moan as you wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him while he finger fucks you like he has a telepathic connection to your pussy too. Like he just unlocked expert level and completely bypassed all the others. His lips dust over the shell of your ear.

“Your cunt loves my fingers. Wait until it feels my cock.”

“Soonyoung,” You groan as the familiar wave of an impending orgasm starts rolling through your core. Your thighs are trembling.

“Keep your eyes on the clock,” he pants as you bury your face against him.

“Yeah, clock,” You gasp as your head goes on spinning and your body starts to vibrate with its impending release. You look over his shoulder. Twenty five seconds. He’s not going to do it. He drives his fingers harder and deeper while he starts grinding the heel of his palm against your sensitive clit. Twenty-two seconds.

“So wet. You hear that?” he questions. And you do. You hear the sound of your arousal dripping over his fingers as he works them in and out of you. Damn, he’s going to do it. Fifteen seconds.

“You’re going to come like my good little kitten so I can bury my cock inside you, too, aren’t you?”

“Fucking hell Soonyoung,” You cry out his name as your orgasm crashes into your body. He wraps one strong arm around your waist, holding you tight while he continues gently massaging your pussy as your body bucks and shudders. Your eyes roll in your head as you struggle to focus on his face. He’s staring at you. His eyes blaze with fire. But then he lets you go and walks to the other side of the room. The loss of heat makes you shiver in the cool room as you come down from the most intense orgasm you think you’ve ever had in my life. He opens a cupboard and pulls out something before walking back to you. It’s only when he’s standing right in front of you again that you see what he’s holding. A condom.

“Take off your pants,” he orders before he tears into the packet with his teeth.

“I thought we were going to your room?” You whisper, surprised by how much the thought of him taking you to bed and continuing what he’s just started makes your entire body buzz with excitement. He’s looking down, rolling the condom onto his cock. He looks up at you again to answer your question, his dark eyes locking on yours.

“Oh, we are, but I need to fuck you right now, so take off the goddamn pants.”

You swallow a thick knot of anxiety that feels lodged in your throat, but you start to slide both your jeans and panties down your thighs. What if somebody comes in here?

“Jihoon’s at a gig until late, he already told me. No one else is coming over they know we’re on a date,” he says, because that’s right he can read your freaking mind.

He wraps you in his arms and lifts you onto the lowest counter. “So this will work just fine,” he groans as he positions himself between your thighs. He mumbles something as he presses his huge cock against your opening. Your thighs are trembling. “I’ll take this first go easy. Wouldn’t want your instinct to hit me to kick in.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer before he edges the tip of his length inside you, stretching you wide. It burns, but it feels so damn good too. You wrap your arms and legs around him, burying your face against his neck as he eases in deeper. “You’re so fucking tight,” he hisses through clenched teeth.

Then he takes hold of your legs and unwraps them from around his waist. “I need you to let me in, kitten,” he groans, full of frustration and impatience. He hooks his forearms under your knees, pulling your hips toward him and spreading your thighs wide open. Your heart starts beating wildly as he looks at you. So exposed and open and vulnerable, in a way you’ve never wanted to be. At least not in his presence. But the Soonyoung who might use this against you, see it as an opening to get the upper hand is gone.

“Fuck Y/n. Your cunt looks so good being stretched by my cock,” he groans, and you reward him with a moan as your pussy squeezes around him. “Just keep holding on to me,” he growls as he slides a little deeper, and wet heat floods your pussy. You cling to his neck, dragging your lips over his skin as his muscles vibrate with the effort of holding himself back. You can feel the raw power in every muscle of his body, and the fact that he’s trying to be gentle makes your heart ache. This is torture. The slow burning stretch of being filled by him is turning your brain to liquid, not to mention every other organ in your body. It hurts, but it’s not enough. You need all of him.

Suddenly, you’re overcome by a desperate need to be filled by him. A burning desire to have him deep inside you, until there is no space left between you both. Your pussy throbs with a deep, carnal longing for his cock. Dusting your lips over the skin of his neck, you smile as it elicits a deep growl in his throat. “I want more,” You whisper.

“More?”

“For the love of God, Soonyoung. Just fuck me,” You plead, surprised at your own words because you have never, ever, begged to be fucked before. And certainly not by a man as infuriating and hateful as this one. He curses as he drives all the way inside you. You press your mouth against his skin, muffling your cries of pleasure tinged with pain as he fills you. You try to squeeze your thighs, but he holds you open as he slides out before driving back inside. Warmth floods your core. Each time he pulls out and thrusts back in, your pussy rewards him with more slick heat.

“Oh fuck,” You whimper in his ear as he groans in yours.

“You feel so fucking good. Being inside you… I knew it would…” He thrusts harder, and you always pass out as the crown of his cock rubs against something inside you that makes you scream in pleasure whilst also wanting to declare your undying devotion to him. Apparently love and hate really are two sides of the same coin. As the last tremors of your second orgasm pulse through you, Soonyoung whispers how pretty you are as he grinds out his own release. When he pulls out of you a few seconds later, the wet sound that echoes around the small room makes your cheeks burn with heat. He pulls the condom off and tosses it into the trash can. You lean against the counter with your legs wobbling like Jell-O and wondering what happens now. This is unfamiliar territory for you.

But then he grabs hold of your hand and pulls you with him as he starts walking down the hall.

“Where are we going?”

“My room, kitten,” he says with a wink. “I am nowhere near done with you.”

Despite what you just did in the kitchen, you feel nervous and kind of awkward as you stand in Soonyoung’s bedroom, next to his bed with questionable tiger striped sheets. He stalks toward you, and it makes a shiver run the length of your spine. You are so out of your depth here you just might drown. He runs his fingertips over your cheek. “Why are you so nervous?” he asks in a soft, gentle tone.

“This isn’t… I don’t usually do this kind of thing,” You say, old irritation flaring.

“Have sex?” he asks with a flicker of amusement.

“With people who I don’t even like, yes,” You snap. If he’s trying to mess with you, then he can go to hell.

“There’s my feisty little kitten.” He slides his hands over your hips and onto your ass, pulling you close to him so that you can feel his hard cock pressing against your stomach. “But you have nothing to be nervous about. You already know how hard you make me and how much I want to fuck you.” He reaches for the edge of your shirt and starts to peel it off you, and you lift your arms to help him. And now you're standing in front of him completely naked. His hands coast over your back, running over every inch of skin.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs as he trails soft kisses over your neck. “I want to see every part of you. I want to taste you.” He pushes you back against the bed until you're lying on it. His hands slide up your thighs as he spreads them wide open until you're completely exposed to him. The look in his eyes makes your thighs tremble, and before you can stop him, his head is between your thighs and his mouth is on your clit.

He presses the flat of his tongue against you. He licks the length of your wet slit and damn near makes your eyes roll back in your head. “Fucking heaven, going to enjoy eating you out,” he murmurs before he sucks your clit into his hot mouth and swirls his tongue over the sensitive bud of flesh.

“Holy fuck,” You hiss as your toes curl and your thighs tremble.

He is so good at that. How much practice has he had? Suddenly, you don’t care. Heat and pleasure builds in your core and rolls through your thighs while he feasts on your pussy with more skill than any man his age should have all to himself. When he slips two fingers into you and starts to fuck you while he eats, you enter a whole new realm of pleasure. In fact, you think you might just have drifted onto another plane of existence. And when you look at his face, he catches your eye and winks, and you almost pass out.

He didn’t lie about enjoying this, he’s getting as much out of it as you are. You press your head back against the pillow, silencing your constant internal chatter and focusing on his magical fingers and tongue and the pleasure they are currently wringing from your body. And when you come with a breathy cry of his name, he doesn’t stop. Not even when you pull his hair and tell him you've had enough.

“I haven’t,” he purrs, wrapping his arms around the backs of your thighs to hold you close to his face as you squirm. “Give me one more and then I can fuck you as hard as I want to.”

A wave of pleasure rolls over you, knocking the breath from your lungs and rendering you speechless. You're so lost in the bliss that you almost don't hear him utter the question, "What's your name?"

"What?" You murmur in confusion chasing the pleasure shooting through you,

"Name?" He ask again, his mouth vibrating against your clit.

"Soonyoung," You answer through a moan and he laughs.

"That's my name. I want to know your name." He says and you don't answer, you can't. It feels too good, your release is too close. And only when he has wrung another mind-altering orgasm from your body does he stop. Pushing himself up and rolling on a condom, he plows into you, burying his face in your neck as he nails you to his mattress. And all you can do is cling on, with your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as he fucks you better than you had ever even dreamed was possible.

Afterwards you and Soonyoung lie in bed facing each other, which feels strangely personal even after what you've just done. There's the sound of a door opening and closing indicating Jihoon must be home. You have no idea how you're going to explain this, Soonyoung didn't even close his door when he dragged you in here. So now you're both exposed wrapped in his horrible bed sheets waiting for Jihoon to pass by.

"Hey remember when I told you at Seok's party I'd make you cum so hard you'd forget your own name?" Your face floods with heat, embarrassment creeping along your spine. Soonyoung just grins.

"I win."

TO BE CONTINUED.....

#seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt fanfic #svt smut #svt fic #seventeen fic #hoshi x reader #hoshi smut #wa: writing.#wa: nsfw.#wa: streetlights.#wa: hoshi.#idk i always post on sunday #catholic school fucked me up probably lol

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j2hoes · 4 months ago

Text

Intimate Treasures. (Steve Harrington x Adult Store Worker!Reader)

Word Count: 4.5K

Y/N works in an adult store and Steve can't seem to stay away.

Warning: Smut, p in v sex, cunnilingus (m and f receiving), dirty talk, knife kink, sex toys, mature language

Weekdays were always slow at Intimate Treasures, most people either working their regular 9-5’s or simply too embarrassed to be caught in an adult store mid week. Opting to discreetly shop on a Friday or Saturday night, hoping nobody will catch them. I often find myself amused by the actions of our customers, ninety percent of which seem to be ashamed of themselves for purchasing such ‘dirty’ products, as they like to call them.

Upon the opening of the store, many citizens of Hawkins were vocal of their displeasure at the presence of such a place. Believing that there was no place in the town for us. They argued that by opening within the Starcourt Mall, we would be indoctrinating their children into believing that sex is something that should be enjoyed and explored freely. Rather than an act of love that should only be taking place once married for the sole purpose of reproduction. There have been numerous occasions when I’ve argued with people about this, lecturing them on the importance of sexual liberation and safety rather than shaming people for their choices.

It was during one of these arguments that I met him for the first time. Wrapped up in a heated debate with none other than the local priest who was offering to save me from hell, I almost missed the mop of fluffy brown hair that hesitantly crossed the threshold of the store. He was trying to act casual, as though being here was no big deal, but I could tell he was nervous. Fumbled movements causing him to almost knock over a display of free condoms. To which he pocketed a few in the shorts of his little sailor outfit.

“What you are doing here in this store is sinful, I am only looking out for you young lady.” My eyes snap back to the priest who is glancing around the place in utter disgust, one hand gripping the cross around his neck, the other clutching a Bible.

“If you think this is sinful, you should see what I do in bed, old man.”

Despite losing sight of the sailor, I hear a muffled laugh coming from down one of the aisles and I can’t help but feel pleased that I’m not necessarily alone in this argument.

“You could be doing so much more with your life! You don’t need this filth, the Lord can set you on the right path if you would just let me cleanse you of your impurity.” The man pleads, his words failing to provide the impact he is hoping for.

Resting my elbows on the countertop, I lean towards the priest, hoping he pays attention to me. “Listen, I know for a fact that the Bible doesn’t specifically mention anything about sex toys or masturbation and not all of us are lucky enough to be in a relationship. Though I’m sure your wife isn’t exactly thrilled with her sex life.”

He gasps at my words, shuffling towards the door whilst muttering about ‘young dirty girls of today’.

“Be sure to send your wife in, her first vibrator is on me!”

As the door swings closed behind him, I let out a sigh of relief. Completely fed up of having the same arguments over and over again. My eyes fall back down to the stack of boxes by my feet, filled to the brim with new lingerie sets that need putting out on the shop floor.

Not wanting to waste any time, I quickly add the inventory to the system before hanging the black latex to the hangers. I won’t deny, it’s a gorgeous set. Shiny black bralette, so thin that the strap of fabric is only big enough to cover the nipple, with a matching thong, which also happens to be just as small. It leaves very little to the imagination, and I would be tempted to spend my paycheck on it, had I anybody to wear it for.

Finding a spot in one of the aisles, I begin to hang the various sizes on the wall. Careful to make sure that they’re all in size order so that they’re easy to find. A shuffle of feet towards the end of the aisle pulls me from my thoughts, the sailor intently staring at different wand vibrators. Every few seconds picking one up before putting it back with a shake of his head.

“Need some help?” I ask, hanging the last of the lingerie up and strolling towards him.

His eyes widen as I stand next to him, a deep red blush rising on his cheeks and I can’t help but smile softly at his awkwardness. I’m never one to assume, though I’m fairly certain this may be his first time in any adult stores. If his blush is anything to go by.

“Sorry, I just don’t really know what I’m supposed to be looking for.”

“Something for your girlfriend?” I push, the question slips off my tongue easily, one I generally ask all the male customers that look in need of assistance, yet something in me is praying that he answers with a no.

I won’t deny that he’s attractive, even with the unfortunate attire that he appears to be sporting. He has a boyish look about him due to the costume, it’s cute and soft. However, his chestnut brown eyes are dark and I can tell that he is very much a man.

“No, no girlfriend.” He admits, shoving his hands in his pockets, as he does so I’m able to catch a quick glimpse and notice the large size, backs of his palms displaying very prominent veins and I can’t help but squeeze my legs at the sight.

I’m not entirely sure what’s wrong with me. Never usually finding someone so attractive upon meeting for the first time, yet I’m practically drooling over the man in front of me. Even if I am putting on a very cool front.

“This is kind of awkward to admit but I wanted a vibrator you know for when I do have girls over. Just for something different I guess, in case my performance doesn’t cut it.”

I’m taken aback by his admission, most men refusing to believe they couldn’t be absolutely incredible in bed and insisting they’re only getting a toy because their wife wouldn’t stop pestering. To have a man so open about possibly not being perfect is refreshing and I realize I’m most definitely going to need some ice cold water then this customer leaves.

“Oh wow, that’s so thoughtful of you.” I tell him, moving slightly closer to the wall of products in order to assist him as best I can. Carefully, I grab a hot pink box, offering it to him. “So this is the newest wand vibrator we have, it has three different settings and a very long battery life. Trust me any girl would love it, it only took me about five minutes to cum when I used it for the first time.”

His eyes are focused on the box, teeth catching his bottom lip as he reads the information on the back. Eyebrows furrowed in concentration, truly reading everything about the product in his hands. Something about him intrigues me, whether it be the sailor outfit or the fact that he truly cares about his sexual partners, I’m not sure.

“I’ll take it, thank you.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The second time that the interesting sailor entered the store was only two days later. A Thursday evening, most of the stores in the mall were closing for the day, not us however. Opting to stay open later for more of a sense of privacy.

I’m idly flipping through one of the latest editions of Playboy magazine, staring down at the women sprawled out on the pages. They ooze confidence and sex appeal, something I could only dream of. Whilst I wouldn’t say I necessarily lack confidence, I most certainly do not have a string of guys desperate for my attention like the women in the magazine.

Completely wrapped up in my own thoughts as I turn the page, it’s only when a handful of products are placed on the countertop that I glance up. Boredom evident on my face, I’m counting down the minutes until I can close the store and head home for the night. That is, until I realize who the customer is.

“I didn’t think girls were into Playboy.”

Running a hand through his perfectly styled brown mane, he smiles at me as he speaks and I struggle to hide my excitement at his return. Though there is still a hint of red on his cheeks, he seems calmer this time, clearly less embarrassed by his visit.

“I don’t know if you can tell, but we don’t exactly stock academic reading material.” I joke, beginning to ring the items through the till.

Bottle of lube, metal handcuffs and black bondage tape. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no stranger to the kinky items that I ring out on a daily basis. Yet, something about the handsome sailor buying them has me weak at the knees and I have to look anywhere other than his face as I bag everything for him.

“Hey, I just wanted to thank you by the way.” Finally making eye contact with the man, I can’t hide my confusion at his words. “For your help last time, the vibrator was a big hit.”

“Oh right yeah. No problem at all, I’m glad I could offer my assistance.”

My smile falters, why am I jealous? I shouldn’t be jealous, I should be pleased that I could help another customer. Pleased that I’m allowing others to enjoy their wants and desires. However, something about knowing the stranger has already used my suggestion on another woman hurts. I sound desperate, it’s not like me to get hung up on a man I have only briefly interacted with twice and yet here I am.

“No seriously, it was the most intense hook up I’ve ever had and it’s all thanks to you.” He rummages through his pockets as he speaks, before sliding a piece of paper across the countertop.

Free ice cream on me - Steve.

“I work at Scoops Ahoy, figured I owed you one.”

“Now the sailor outfit makes sense.” I laugh softly, carefully folding the piece of paper and slipping it into my pocket.

“I know. It sucks, does not help me woo the ladies at all.” He smiles bashfully, handing me the cash to pay for the products.

“I think it’s cute.” The words fall out of my mouth before I can stop myself and my head drops to the floor, shaking it lightly, humiliated by what I just said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean, it’s just-”

“Good to know, I’ll see you later.” He looks at me expectantly, awaiting my name, as he makes his way towards the exit.”

“Y/N.”

“I’ll see you later Y/N.”

The moment the door closes behind him, I slide to the carpeted floor, head in my hands, afraid I may have just completely made a fool of myself in front of Steve. Doing my best to get over how mortified I feel, I quickly stride to the door and flip the sign to closed, not wanting to humiliate myself further in front of any more customers tonight, even if I am technically supposed to be open for another hour and a half.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I swear to God John, if you take these home and add them to your wank bank, I am going to kill you with my bare hands.”

This week seems to be one embarrassing event after the next, standing in nothing but the new micro black latex lingerie, I pose awkwardly in front of the only blank wall in the building, allowing the store owner to take photos of me on the polaroid.

“Listen, we need to advertise what we have on offer, putting these pictures in the window is bound to gain more customers. Not to mention the added benefit of being served by the hot girl plastered in the window.” He states as though it's obvious, shoving a large kitchen knife into my hand which I take reluctantly. “Now spread those legs and lick the knife.”

Dropping to a squat, I spread my legs wide open, raising the knife to my mouth and seductively licking a stripe down the edge, careful not to cut myself. I may as well be completely naked with how little the lingerie covers, moving the knife to cover my vagina, I feign a gasp as he snaps another photo.

“You’re a natural, I’ll put these in the window and then I’m off for the night.”

I throw the knife on to the counter as I watch with folded arms how John sticks up the photos by the door. No doubt we’ll have complaints as each photo has me in increasingly compromised positions. It’s borderline pornographic.

Catching glimpses of the photos every couple of seconds, I can admit that I do look good. Incredibly good. They’re sexy and I feel empowered, it’s just a shame that they have to be on display for everybody to see. I’m all for being sexually liberated, I’m just not sure I believe everybody should be allowed to see me in such a vulnerable environment.

John leaves with a quick wave in my direction, flipping the sign on his way out so that I can finish my closing tasks in peace. Throwing myself down on the couch beside the window, I feel the shame start to flood my body. I begin to feel dirty and used, allowing my boss to take advantage of the fact that I have to follow his orders.

Is this how the women in Playboy feel? Never once have I questioned if selling dirty magazines is unethical, believing that the woman in them felt free and proud that they can be so open and sexual. Now I’m starting to think that perhaps that isn’t the case.

With my head resting against the back of the couch and my eyes fixated on the uneven tiles on the ceiling, I hear the door click open beside me. Internally sighing, I don’t avert my gaze as I speak.

“We’re closed!” Voice snappier than I intended it to be, however, I make no effort to apologize.

“I know, I’m sorry. I was just hoping you’d be here.”

Swinging my head to face the direction of the door, I match the voice to the speaker. Steve stands awkwardly in the entryway, eyes trailing over my body as I stand to greet him. His mouth drops open slightly, rubbing a hand over his plump cherry lips. Glancing down, I remember that I’m still only wearing the lingerie and heat floods my body.

“Shit, sorry. One second.”

I awkwardly jog to the back of the store as best I can in the heels strapped to my feet, I’m careful to wrap the long satin robe tightly around myself before making my way back over to Steve. Who stands in the same spot, unmoving. Eyes focused on me as I lean against the counter, arms crossed over my body in an effort to keep the robe covering me.

“So what can I help you with?” I ask, voice shaking every so slightly due to the interaction only moments ago.

“You look incredible in that.”

Although my eyes are firmly fixated on the ground, I smile nervously at his words. Hearing the shuffle of his feet, I look up only to see him standing just a couple of feet away from me. Clad in his sailor uniform once again, I allow myself to gaze over his physique. Thick legs that wear the shorts well, tight in all the right places. Arms defined showing off the muscles he has built. Pulling myself from my thoughts, I round the counter, hoping that the distance between us will ease the ache between my thighs.

“Steve I really should be closing, did you need help with something?”

I notice his eyes fall to his shorts, an impressive tent having formed and I have to hold my breath so as not to drop straight to my knees. Without a word, he slowly reaches across the counter, gently knocking the robe from my shoulders, exposing me to him once again.

“Just tell me to stop and I will.” He speaks quietly, so quiet I almost don’t catch it.

There’s a look of animalistic hunger on his face, one that is new to me. A stark contrast to the boyish smile he usually sports. Within seconds he’s leaning across the counter, capturing his lips with mine, one hand tightly grasping the back of my neck for support, whilst I grip at his shirt. His kiss is fuelled by passion and while it’s rough there’s a feeling of comfort that I can’t describe.

Without thinking, I’m striding back around the counter, pushing him backwards so that he flops down on the couch. Allowing me to take a seat on his lap, his erection firmly pressed in between my thighs, if I weren’t so focused on the moment, I’d most certainly be embarrassed by the wetness that begins to drip down my thighs.

Grinding myself slightly, I tug at his top, pulling it over his head quickly before throwing it behind me. His lips attach to my neck and I can feel him sucking gently, determined to leave a mark. A moan escapes my lips before I can stop myself, sparking a fire in his eyes as he grips my hips, guiding them to roll over his clothed length even harder.

His fingers move with haste as he works at the knot holding the flimsy bralette together, prying it off my body the moment the ties become loose. Grabbing his jaw, I pull his face back to mine, kissing him with burning desire as his hands move to palm my breasts. Our tongues entwine as his fingers brush over my nipple, releasing a soft gasp from me, to which he takes advantage. Dipping his head to suck and bite marks into my chest, I grab his hair tugging softly with every moan that he extracts from my body.

I can hear a groan escape his mouth, to which he covers it up quickly by dragging his tongue over my nipple. His hands playing with the other so as not to focus all his attention solely on one. Steve sucks gently, drawing unholy moan after moan from my body as I continue to feel the heat between our bodies.

Tipping my head back and pushing my breasts further into him, I find myself pushing a hand between our bodies. Slipping under his shorts and offering a short squeeze, causing the man to murmur a soft fuck as he continues to play with my nipples. From feeling his length in my hand, I can tell he’s big, bigger than I anticipated and much bigger than I’ve ever had. It scares me equally as much as it excites me.

It’s only when I begin to start delicately stroking up and down, that he pushes me to the side. Throwing me onto the couch gently so that I am laid on my back with him standing over me. As he smiles down at me, I can’t help but find the contrast between his soft smile and the dominance he has just been displaying amusing. A cheeky grin evident on my face.

“Where’s that knife?” He asks, fingers brushing over my throat as he stares down at me.

“Knife?”

“From the pictures.”

Nodding my head towards the countertop, I watch eagerly as he grabs it, clenching my thighs together as my mind drifts to what he is going to do with it. Much to my surprise, he gently pulls my body up so that I’m sat upright, before settling on his knees between my thighs. Pushing the thong to the side, he presses the blunt side of the knife to my heat, trailing it between my folds. When he removes it, it glimmers with the slick that is now definitely dripping onto the couch.

“Lick it.” He raises the knife to my mouth and I brush my tongue against it as directed, immensely turned on by the entire situation. “You’re such a good girl.”

If his words didn’t make me moan, I do when his tongue makes contact with my clit. Head falling back as I close my eyes, focused only on the pleasure he is giving me. Despite not having my eyes open, I am acutely aware of Steve reaching up to my throat and holding the sharp side of the knife directly on my neck. Pushing it gently, though not so much to draw blood.

“God, you’re such a good girl.”

He switches between sucking and licking my clit, his free hand moving to push two fingers into me ever so slowly. The sounds are inherently sinful, the way he’s lapping up everything I can offer him is downright filthy and yet I feel like I’m in heaven. He devours me as though I’m his last meal, moaning against me, vibrations adding to the already exhilarating pleasure I’m experiencing. God, if this is what he can do with his tongue, there was no reason for him to buy a vibrator.

As he continues to push his fingers into me at an unruly pace, his tongue swirls circles against my clit, pushing me further and further to the edge. My stomach feels tighter and I try to close my thighs, though he reacts by pushing the knife closer to my throat, reminding me of its presence.

“Holy fuck.” I whisper, coil within me snapping and my legs twitching as he continues to lick up anything I have left.

With a pleased grin, he pulls himself away from me, rising to his feet and even in my post orgasm daze, I drop to my knees. Hurriedly pulling his shorts down to his ankles, I grab his erection with both hands. Mouth falling open in shock as I wrap both my hands around him.

“Jesus Christ.” My voice is almost silent yet Steve still hears me, chuckling at my words.

“You gonna be able to handle it?” He asks and I waste no time in nodding, gazing up at him, eyes filled with lust. “Yeah you are.”

In an attempt to calm my nerves, I hesitantly lick from the tip to the base, mouth watering as I hear Steve’s breaths become shakier. Wrapping my lips around the tip, I slowly begin to bob my head up and down, unable to take the whole thing but trying my hardest. I allow myself to coat his member with my spit, using my hands to stroke whatever I can’t fit in my mouth. He bucks his hips involuntarily with a deep guttural moan and I can’t help but gag, eyes watering as he hits the back of my throat.

Pulling back with a gasp for air, I continue to stroke him with one hand, the other reaching for his balls. As I lean in to go for round two with my mouth, he grabs my hair softly, pulling me to look up at him. With mascara streaks running down my and saliva falling from one corner of my mouth, Steve smirks.

“I’d let you do that forever if I wasn’t so desperate to feel you.”

He helps me up, pushing my body over the countertop, before pulling the thong off me completely. I spread my legs for him, allowing him to see the effect he has on me, he circles my clit with one finger as his other hand grips his length. The tip smacking against me as he nervously rubs it over my hole.

“Steve please, I want you so bad.” I beg, feeling myself clenching around nothing as he teases me.

“Fuck you’re perfect.” He cautiously pushes the tip into me, my hands gripping the wood of the countertop at the stretch and I squeal slightly, from a mixture of pleasure and pain. “My perfect girl.”

He continues to push himself inside of me for what feels like an eternity, just when I think I’ve taken him all, he pushes further. I’ll admit it has been a while and with Steve’s size, the stretch burns and yet I want nothing more than to feel him inside of me forever.

The gentleman he is, he stills once completely sheathed within me, awaiting confirmation from me that he is able to move.

“Steve please fuck me now.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice and instantly pulls himself out, almost completely before slamming back into me. Balls slapping against my clit in a way that teases me as he practically rips me in half. One hand pushes on my back, firmly holding me down against the counter as he continues to pound into me. The other grips my hip, knife still in hand though neither of us seem to pay any attention to it.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this since the moment I saw you.” He states between moans, slamming into me at an almost brutal pace.

I’m able to slip one of my hands between the wooden surface and my body, bringing it to the space between my legs and gently teasing my clit, resulting in a string of profanities falling from my lips. Steve notices this and bats my hand away, taking over himself. His fingers are like magic and combined with the way he is ramming himself into me, I can feel myself on the brink of cumming once again.

“Oh my god, Steve I’m so close.”

Upon hearing this, he pulls my body upright, peppering kisses along my shoulders and the nape of my neck as he continues to drill into me at the same rough pace. Within a matter of seconds, I find vision spotting as I fall over the edge. Thighs sticky and wet with the remnants of my second orgasm. Steve allows me to fall back onto the countertop, continuing his assault on my vagina and the overstimulation drives me crazy. I’m a complete moaning mess and by the time he stills with a soft grunt, I have even more tears in my eyes.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He murmurs, pulling out of me gently and pressing yet another kiss to my neck.

Turning around to face him, he has a lazy fucked out grin on his face and I can’t help but feel proud that I’m the reason for that smile. I smile at the thought, and at the feeling of his cum beginning to spill out of me and down my legs. Steve takes my hands in his and flops back onto the couch, wrapping his arms around me as I rest my head on his chest.

“You know I actually came here hoping I would work up the courage to ask you on a date but this was so much better.” He admits, nuzzling his nose into my hair.

“Wow so I missed out on a date?” I tease, hugging into him even tighter.

“I mean, we can always break into Scoops and go have that date now.” He suggests, voice soft as though he’s afraid I will reject him.

“That sounds perfect.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #Steve Harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington fluff #strangers things imagine #Steve Harrington x fem #Steve Harrington fanfiction #stranger things au #Steve Harrington x fem!reader #Steve harrington x female reader smut

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diorchids · 7 months ago

Text

where ya headed?

simon 'ghost' riley.

cw: simon is southern in this. (walk with me...) age gap, country + southern!simon, unwanted touching, pervert!simon, slight manipulation, oral, penetration, choking.

you shivered in the cold, keeping your head low and your arms crossed as the cold breeze made you practically freeze completely. your bag was almost empty, left with nothing but a lighter and a few loose cigarettes. how lucky you were.

you walk and walk, ignoring any sounds in the woods you wouldn’t recognize in the darkness. as you walk on the sides of the road, the sound of a motor engine nears you, but you continue walking.

the sounds came from a beat-up pickup truck behind you, low hums of tunes along with it. you turn your head slightly toward it, still unphased from the hissing of the engine. the car seemed to move at the same pace as you, failing to speed up. the red truck ran beside you with a man in the front. he sat with an arm on a seat next to him

plaid button-up, handlebar mustache, blue jeans--he had the whole get up.

he obviously wanted your attention, honking the car horn before rolling down the window. he gave you a once over before speaking, “hey there, you look like you could use a ride. where ya headed, sweetheart?” you ignored any thoughts reminding you of those men. the rapists, murderers, kidnappers, the bad men.

you hesitantly walked to his window and rested your arms on them, shrugging as you stood. “i’m headed to the motel ‘bout an hour or so away, sir.” he could tell you were cold, your soft sniffles and sneezes giving him a hint.

he nods and gestures to the passenger seat, “way too cold to be out here, ‘specially at this time of night. hop in, i’m actually headin’ that way myself.” those thoughts plagued your brain again as you ignored them again. you open the door and sat. as you settle in, he turns up the heat and glances over at you. “name’s simon, simon riley. i live in the cabin just up north.” you introduce yourself to him, making it known you’re not versed on the state.

he nods and controls the wheel, “pleasure to meet you, sweetheart. what brings you to these parts?” you straighten your back and tell him where you’re from, about 3 states over, trying to get back to a friend who’s at the motel.

“i’m glad i could help you out. not safe ‘round here for a young lady like you to be wanderin’, considerin’ the weather, i doubt you would’ve made it a mile,” he pauses, “you’re a pretty little thing.

you stutter and mutter out a thank you to him, a warm feeling spreading over your face quickly. this isn’t that, though. this man’s old enough to be your father, he’s just a stranger helping a girl. he notices your expression and interjects. he leans over to you, making you feel uncomfortable as he speaks lowly. “hope you don’t mind my saying so. not many young ones like you out here,”

you nodded and stayed silent before a warm hand planted on your thigh, squeezing with a grunt. “it’s refreshing.”

you try and change the subject “the motel’s a way out, sir--simon. i don’t have the money now, but when i get back home, i could mail you money, really.” you stuttered, trying not to notice his hand perversely trailing up your leg.

“ain't no need for that. think of it as a favor. you could--" his fingers inched closer to your core, “do me one, how’s that sound? a favor for a favor.”

you sat and thought about it. this man’s doing you a huge favor with this, you felt obligated. “okay. a favor.”

he got you out of the car, calling you over to his side before groping your body disgustingly. you couldn’t say no, this was the favor. “bet you wanted this, didn’t you?” he squeezes your plush ass, grinning as you stood, helpless. his hands continue to wander and grope at your body, ignoring any protests as he gets incredibly handsy.

he rubs his bulge up against you before you touch it, your fingers curving over it. he coaxes you onto your knees on the gravelly road, small pebbles pushing into them.

you eyed his huge bulge, watching as he unbuckled his belt, planting a hand into your hair as he instructed you to pull his boxers down. “it’s really big, sir,” you whispered, a smile spreading on his face. "go ahead, sweetheart, it won't bite."

you obey, hooking fingers onto his waistband before tugging and taking him into your mouth, gagging on his girthy length pathetically.

you sat with his cock in your throat for some time before starting to bob your head, hair moving in the cold wind as you tried your hardest not to gag again. your hand wrapped around the base of his fat cock, stroking and squeezing while your warm mouth sucks him off. he grips your hair even tighter when you slide your tongue up a vein, bucking his hips deeper into you.

“doin’ perfect, baby girl, look at you go,” he groaned, praising the way you squeezed and sucked him like a pro. your hand cupped his heavy balls before they just slapped your chin repeatedly. cars rode past, a couple catching a glimpse of you on your knees, but simon didn’t care.

your mouth, so hot, so delicate, was the only thing keeping him warm in this weather. you were so busy, that you’d practically forgotten you were cold.

he ended up fucking your throat, making you keep your hands away from your mouth as he used you for his pleasure. you fondled his balls and sucked prettily, batting your lashes while you looked at him with desperation.

his cock twitched in your throat before he thrusts a few more times, causing you to gag uncontrollably.

he was disgusting.

warm cum spilled from his pent-up cock right down your throat as you swallowed and cleaned up the spend with your fingers, sucking his hot load off your fingers. it was a sight to see, your sultry gaze on his body as you caught your breath.

you looked up at him, still on your knees, sure to bruise by morning, before he helped you to your feet. he wasted no time to touch you again, but now his slick cock rubbed up against you when he groped you, pinching your nipples and sniffing you. a pervert.

your ass was pushed up against his, still leaking, cock, he groaned out how much he loves your body. your company--your readiness.

“walkin’ around like that--no business doin’ that ‘round here,” his fingers hook onto your skirt, “barely got anything on.”

he decides to pull down your skirt, revealing your panties with small prints of cherries. “i wanna feel your lil’ pussy around me, need that badly.”

you nod, facing away but your eagerness is still obvious. his thick fingers run over your ass before stopping at the wet spot on your panties. they rub your already swollen clit as you push into his touch, not noticing the cars still riding past, people eyeing this disgusting view. simon pushes his fingers into your underwear, sliding his middle finger over your slit lovingly.

he pulls your panties down hungrily before rubbing his cock against your holes, gripping your hips as he speaks, “fuck, sweetheart,” before his thick tip prods at your tight entrance, forcing it inside as your legs tremble and your grip on the seats tighten.

your eyes prickle with tears as he forces most of himself in, filling you to the brim as he attempts to thrust, only moving in and out an inch at a time. you grip the seats as he settles into you, but he goes slow for you, knowing it’s too big, knowing he’s stretching you out too much. you cry out, begging for him to go slow, but to get it over with.

“i know, baby girl, shh, shh, it’s gon’ be over soon. just take it all.” and you did, pushing your ass up against him, making sure to do as he says and take it.

you sucked him in perfectly, eyes rolling back, back arching uncontrollably as his cock dug through your walls. his red tip bullied your cervix, almost touching it each time he thrust deeper. his hands stayed rested on your hips as he fucked you harder. “grippin’ me like a fuckin’ vice, ain’t ya?” spit fell from his lips onto your ass before sliding down to your hole, serving as a lubricant for his oversized cock.

his hung cock barely slipped in and out of you, tight hole failing to stretch enough. as you spoke disgusting words. begging him for the worst, to go harder, to make it hurt. talking about how badly you loved his cock, showing how fucked out and dumb his dick made you.

a big hand wrapped around your neck, thick fingers bruising you, proof of your encounter.

you couldn’t take it anymore, your tummy feeling warm and a tingly feeling in your cunt made you weak as you tried your best to fight it. you couldn’t hold off, though, giving in to him as you cried out and gushed on his cock. your cunt constricted around him as you came. his grip on your neck tightened as you came on his cock, a milky white circle forming at the base of it.

a car drove past, seeing you bent over with the low, yellow lights of the pickup truck shining on your figure. seeing him behind you, pants down to his ankles, your skirt down to yours.

you groaned loudly as he continued fucking your soaked hole, juices dripping. his balls feel heavier, ready to let go.

“take it--take it all,” he thrusts a few more times before releasing his load into your hole, potent cum sure to get you pregnant. “puttin’ my kids in you.” as his last spurts fill you.

his cum seeps out of you as your legs tremble. “there we go. there we go, knew you could take it.”

he helps you fix yourself up before delivering a slap to your ass and hopping in the car. he drove you to the motel and handed you a napkin to write your number down for him.

“well, don’t let me take up your whole night. i’m sure so-and-so’s wonderin’ where yer at.” you kissed him on the cheek before he left.

it must’ve been the southern drawl.

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gguk-n · 4 months ago

Text

Grand Prix Morning (Oscar Piastri x Reader)

Congratulations Oscar on his first win!!

Summary- After watching the Hungarian GP and seeing Oscar apologise after his first win, you wish you could make him feel special and that he deserved it. So, you go to bed and wake up on the day of the GP!

{Reader's POV}

I wasn't sure if I should be happy or sad right now. Oscar Piastri just won his first race in Formula One and in his second season. That was such a proud moment until you remember the actual shit McLaren pulled on their drivers. I had been watching the race today, Oscar was pretty good in the beginning and being his fan I obviously hoped that this was the race he finally got his first win. But after the pit stop and Lando leading I didn't think possible; until I heard the radio message. I had mixed feelings. I rejoiced watching Oscar cross the chequered flag. But then I heard his message, apologising. It broke my heart into a million tiny pieces. But what could I do? My voice would be a tiny whisper in the sea. I shut my TV off, not in the mood to watch any of the post race stuff; because I felt bad for Lando too. I couldn't bear sitting through the interviews. So, I made myself some dinner, watched a rom-com to get my mind of things and went to bed, earlier than usual. I would deal with my emotions tomorrow.

Now when you normally sleep, you expect to wake up in your own bed, as an adult at least. When you were kids, that was a different story. My eyes were adjusting to the dimly lit room and a figure in front of me, walking around the room as quietly as possible. The room looked like a hotel room and the figure in front of me was Oscar Piastri. "Oscar" I said out loud. "baby, did I wake you up?" he asked like a deer caught in headlight. "No" I replied tentatively. Was this a dream? Was I this sad that this is how I was coping? "What's the time?" I asked reaching for the lamp. "It's 6 am. I'm gonna get some exercise done before I head to the paddock" he said while tying up his shoe lace. "I'll come with you when you leave for the paddock" I stated; scared to be alone where ever I was. "Sure babe" he replied, striding up to my side of the bed, leaning down and leaving a peck on my lips before whispering a bye against my lips and heading out.

My brain had short circuited. Oscar Piastri kissed me and called me terms of endearment. This has to be a dream but those pink lips were so real, warm and slightly dry and peeling. The way his hand cupped my cheek when he pecked me, the warmth still lingering against my skin. I reached for my phone to check what weekend it was; to my surprise it was the Hungarian Grand Prix today. The race Oscar won, maybe I'm here to wrong the right. I quickly showered and got dressed. If I got to be a WAG even for a day, I was gonna enjoy it. I wore a pretty coral midi dress. As I sat there in the room waiting for Oscar to return, a smile etched on my face as I went through my gallery.

We had been dating for a while, since his F2 days. He was all the bit romantic as I imagined him to be. My parents loved him, his parents loved me. This felt like a fairytale. There was one problem, Oscar would probably know that I was someone else and not his 'girlfriend'. I don't know how this version of me acted. The jig would be up so soon.

Oscar walked through the room, all sweaty and red from the work out. "Lemme shower and then we'll get breakfast" he said not even looking up while taking his shoes off. The moment his eyes travelled up from my legs to my face, a smirk plastered across his face. "You look gorgeous" he said almost breathless. I couldn't help but giggle. "You look hot" I replied. "Only for you" he shrugged. I felt the heat rise up from my cheeks. "Can't believe I can still get you this flustered, even after so many years" he smiled with amusement. I got up from where I was sat, "You'll get me flustered even when I'm an old lady" I muttered. "That's the plan" he grinned.

A freshly showered Oscar was proving to be the bane of my existence like out of the gym Oscar was. I wanted to jump him, but it didn't feel right and I wasn't taking advantage of him like this. The way to the paddock was filled with casual talk. Who knew Oscar could talk. At the paddock, we greeted the other drivers and fans we saw along the way. The McLaren hospitality was bustling with both pole and P2 starts were McLaren's. I tried to speak to their race engineers to gauge the strategy but I wasn't allowed. I even tried to talk to Lando and Oscar about the race, but they were busy discuss the details amongst themselves to pay much attention. I spent the majority of my time trying to figure out what I was supposed to do to change the scenario. I wanted Oscar to win but not with the mess McLaren created.

As the race progressed, like I had watched it play out. I realised, I wasn't meant to change the process or outcome. I was just here because I hoped and prayed to be able to comfort Oscar and celebrate his win like I hoped he was supposed to enjoy his first win. I watched McLaren fuck it up whilst I stood there next to him. I heard Oscar apologise for the second time, shattering my heart again. I rushed to see Oscar with the staff in tow. Oscar got out of the car and looked around, our eyes met. He came running with his helmet in hand, "I won" he whispered, only for me to hear. "I saw" I replied with tears in my eyes. "I'm so proud of you. You've come so far Oscar. You're the Hungarian Grand Prix winner, don't apologise for your win whatever it may be" I whispered. Oscar's face inches from mine, his eyes glistening with tears at what I said, "I love you, Y/N Y/L/N" he said out loud while wrapping his free arm around my waist and pulling me in for a kiss. The kiss was a mixture of tears and sweat, since the two of us had started crying. I cupped his cheeks, deepening the kiss, our emotions were all over the place. "Go and get your trophy, I'll wait for you" I said while pulling away from the kiss. "Be right back" he grinned and left to get weighed.

The podium celebration was bitter sweet, but I was not gonna let this over shadow his win and do what I was here for. I quickly got flowers delivered to the hotel and some sweets. I waited for Oscar to be done with the media and stuff while scrolling through my phone. The discourse was on another level, but the pictures of me and Oscar kissing were circulating every where. I wish I could take this back with me. Oscar's mum called and we were on the phone for a while. My parents called us to congratulate him as well. It felt so weird to hear Oscar was my boyfriend.

Oscar found me in his drivers room. "There's my grand prix winner" I stated. Oscar wrapped his arms around my waist, lifting me up in the process. My hands stabilised myself on his shoulders. "I'm so happy we got to celebrate this together" he mumbled against my skin. "Me too" I muttered. "By the way, your mum called. You should talk to her later" I said urging Oscar to put me down. "Are you angry with me?" he asked, placing me on the ground. "What? no" I replied. "You've been calling me Oscar or nothing at all the whole day. I didn't think much of it before but now you said your mum when you normally say mum" I was caught off guard, "It's nothing like that" I tried to diffuse the situation. "My mum texted me too about your win and yours called. I just wanted to clarify" I said. "Oh" he hummed. "Now, let's go. Let's have a Oscar Piastri worthy celebration" I continued. "Like what" he asked. "Dinner in bed and a movie of your choosing." I answered. "Finally, I get to choose." he laughed.

We got back to the hotel, where there were quite a few flowers. I may have gone over board. We entered the room which looked like a botanical garden at this point. Oscar smiled taking the scene in. "For me" he whispered. "For you" I whispered back. "I wanted to show you how much I love you and how proud of you I was. This is just a small token of my happiness Osc" I said. "You're the reason Lando calls me Osc. Find a new nickname. I don't like sharing it with him. But thank you for this" he remarked. "Sure darling" I announced. He walked through smelling all the flowers. We spent the rest of the night watching a movie Oscar had picked and eating our hearts content.

I was scared to fall asleep, what if I woke up back where I was supposed to be. What if this 'reality' ceased to exist? As my eyes got heavy, keeping them open was a task. Oscar had started succumbing to sleep having switched the TV off. "Thank you for making my day even more special then it was." He mumbled. "Thank you for letting me show how loved and appreciated you are. I love you Oscar. Today, tomorrow and always." I whispered kissing his forehead; letting sleep take me. If I woke up back in my world, so be it. At least I made Oscar's day.

When my eyes opened to the bright sun shining from my window, no Oscar in sight. A silent tear fell from my eye. I wiped it away. Happy that at the very least I was able to heal my heart, and maybe his in another universe.

my heart wanted to write this for a while

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axelsagewrites · 11 months ago

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Robb Stark*Cant Catch a Break

Pairing: robb x f!reader

Word count: 1223

Warnings: making out, sneaking around, almost oral, handjob, getting caught, slight begging, teasing, horny desperate robb, angry mother

Masterlist Here

a/n: i promise i'll have some requests up soon i just am struggling with one of them the now so its taking me a bit plus christmas etc but enjoy some horny robb i wrote at 2 am

Ned and Catelyn had intrusted their eldest with the most important task ever. Babysitting the kids. As Robb waved goodbye to them as they drove out the driveway your headlights switched on a street back when you got the ‘they’re gone’ text. Hey, you had to seize the opportunity.

“Hey,” Robb grinned as he opened the door, deliberately leaning on the frame to show off his arms not that you were complaining.

“Hi,” you grinned back as you leaned up to kiss your boyfriend, ignoring the loud ew Arya gave as she walked past, “Do I not get to come in?” you pouted.

“I suppose you can,”

“Oh, you do?”

“Yeah,”

“On what conditions?”

“A kiss,”

“How about more than a kiss?” you teased as you kissed him again.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbled against your lips.

“Whereas I’m going to kill myself if you two don’t get a room,” Jon grumbled as he walked down the stairs as Robb finally let you cross the threshold.

“Good idea Jon,” Robb smiled obnoxiously as he grabbed your hand, “You know where to find me. Now forget,” he said as he pulled you along up the stairs with him.

“Hey, you’re supposed to be babysitting!” Jon yelled.

“We’re not babies!” you heard Rickon yelling in the background as Robb pulled you into his room.

Usually in his snaps or video calls it was a mess but today it looked passable, “Oh you cleaned for me, how sweet,” you smiled as he closed the door, pushing your back against it as his lips dangled just above yours.

“What can I say? I’m a gentleman,”

You laughed as your hand snaked up to the back of his neck, “Its just a shame I don’t plan on acting very lady like,”

Usually, you loved Robbs siblings but if one more knocked on the goddamn door you may just combust. Sansa had come complaining about Arya hogging the tv which meant Arya then came to complain about Sansa being an ‘air head’ for watching reality tv which resulted in Robb going down to tell Jon to deal with it. Jon however had also been up about four times to ask dumb questions like where the batteries were or if you wanted any pizza put on or any other excuse, he could muster to ruins Robbs evening with a shit eating grin.

“Where were we?” Robb asked as he all but slammed the door after helping Jon figure out the oven.

He crossed the room to where you sat on the edge of his bed. His lips quickly found yours as he moved you to lay down on his bed. “This is better,” he teased as his lips moved to your jaw, kissing down your neck as his soft hands slipped under the thin fabric of your top which he’d tried to get off at least three times already.

As his hands cupped your tits, squeezing slightly making him groan against your skin there was a soft knock on the door. Robb groaned so pathetically you wondered if he’d cry, “What?” he called.

However, Rickon took this as come in which he did making Robb quickly shoot up to be kneeling over you as you fixed your top as Rickon pouted, “Its bedtime,”

“Goodnight little man. Close the door on your way out,”

“But story time,”

“Get Jon to do it,”

“But you always do it,”

“So, it’s his turn,”

“but you’re better at it,” Rickon whined, stamping his four-year-old foot with a pouted lip.

You sighed as you looked to Robb, “Cmon how long can it take?” you whispered.

Robb sighed as he looked down at you, “But we were gonna…you know,” your head turned to Rickon then back to Robb and the look you gave him was enough, “Okay fine, c’mon Rickie,”

“What were you doing on top of her?” Rickon asked as he padded out the room, Robb quickly behind him to tell him never to repeat what he saw with the promise of candy.

You were straddling his lap as his head rested against the headboard. you had finally ditched the t-shirt leaving you in a cute bra and skirt as you grinded against Robb’s painfully hard bulge through his strained sweatpants. Thankfully the sweatpants were the only thing left on him. His hands had moved under your skirt, grabbing your ass as you tugged on his curls making him moan into your mouth.

Your lips moved to his jaw, kissing down his neck, “What are you doing?” he half groaned as your hands roamed his abs as your lips moved to his chest, kissing all the way down his torso.

“Can’t say you haven’t earned it,” you grinned, shuffling back as your hand moved to palm him over the fabric of his trousers making his head roll back, “Unless you want me to stop,” you teased.

“Dear god don’t stop,” he groaned as your hands toyed with the hem of his waist band. “You wanna hear me beg? is that it?” he asked, his desperate eyes searching your teasing ones.

“Maybe, could be kinda hot,” you teased as your hand slipped under the fabric to take hold of his hard on making him moan softly. Your hand wrapped around it, stroking it softly, “I like it when you’re all desperate,”

“Fuck please baby. I really am desperate, so fucking desperate please,” he said as your hand sped up slightly.

You grinned as you leaned down, moving the fabric away painfully slow to reveal his hard cock already wet with precum. You leaned down to place a kiss to his tip, Robbs hand moving to rest on the back of your head as your tongue poked out to lick it when suddenly the door slammed open, banging off the wall as laughter rang out.

You shot up as Robb quickly pulled up his sweats and jumped out of bed, accidentally pushing you on your back in the process, “Bran I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Robb screamed as he chased his cackling brother down the hall as you scrambled to pull your top back on and run after him to stop murder.

As Bran bolted down the stairs, Robb soon after him, and you just reaching the top of the stairs the front door swung open to reveal a once happy looking Ned and Catelyn. Their faces first turned to shock as Bran ran into his mothers’ arms still grinning like a Cheshire Cat then to confusion, then you felt Catelyn’s eyes fall on you and then quickly turn to Robb in anger.

Meanwhile Ned put the pieces together slightly slower before muttering “poor kid,” under his breath as you quickly rushed down the stairs.

“I’m just gonna-“you said, pointing to the door which you were soon heading out of, “yeah. Bye Robb, bye guys,” Cat watched you leave with a fury and Ned with a sorry glance.

“Wait but-“ Robb said, trying to reach out but you gave him a sorry look as you left the house, hearing him sigh and go, “Aw man!” he said before muttering, “I can’t Catch a fucking break,” making Cat cross her arms and Robbs life suddenly flash before his eyes. One thing was for sure though. He was going to kill his brother.

General taglist: @strvngestark @headinfantasy @meg-ro @427120lxld @obx-josie18 @ravenmoore14 @tessakate @justtilly @jjkjbhj @clairacassidy @valeskafics

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#robb stark x reader #robb stark #robb stark imagine #robb stark smut #game of thrones smut #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #asoiaf smut #asoiaf #modern robb stark #modern robb stark smut #modern robb stark imagine #modern robb stark x reader #kinktober

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cecilysobsessions · 1 year ago

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STRIP THAT DOWN (m.) | gojo

↬ word count: 7k

↬ fem!reader, stripper!gojo, sub!gojo, inspiration comes from magic mike

↬ genre: fluff / smut

↬ summary: as the owner and operator of an all-male strip club, you cater to the women that prefer the pretty and feminine younger boys to give them lap dances. oddly enough, your most popular and most requested dancer is gojo satoru. he’s too muscular, too handsome, and entirely too annoying. and, of course, he doesn’t seem to be aware you find him irritating.

↬ warnings: gojo wearing lingerie, gojo begging, gojo got a finger fetish, gojo getting spanked, anal (m. receiving but unfortunately no pegging 😔), gojo bent over a desk, typos but pretend you don’t see them

↬ a/n: this is for everyone that love men who whimper (myself) also i just turned 21! 🎉

m.list

•••

“Your hands feel so soft,” he says more to himself than you. Then, “I wonder how they’d feel in my mouth.”

“What?” you stifle a laugh and smile.

“What?”

•••

As the owner and operator of an all-male strip club, it wasn’t exactly as fun as some might think.

You were constantly stuck helping your dancers adjust their g-strings between sweaty ass cheeks, constantly sewing back up ripped underwear, constantly throwing out people who got a little too touchy, and more gross things you’d rather not think about.

After being in the business yourself for several years, your boss had mentioned that you had an eye for running things, so you thought you’d give it a try yourself. You just didn’t think you’d end up running an all-male strip club.

You’re not sure how it happened—and you’d rather not focus on that right now because one of your dancers is waving a bra in your face, his voice frantic and panicked.

“BOSS! Hello?! I need help!” he aggressively waves the garment in front of your eyes.

“Why are you going to wear a bra for tonight’s show?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Suguru doesn’t even have enough chest to fit in that size!” you heard a voice from across the room. You were currently helping your dancers with a show tonight, stressed because your name was being called in a different direction every five seconds.

It was Gojo.

The brattiest, most entitled, self-centered, good for nothing employee of yours. Good God, every time he spoke you grew irritated, even if he wasn’t talking to you. Although he annoyed you to death with his overly talkative and cocky personality, he was the best dancer here.

Even though you catered to older women who preferred younger more feminine men, Gojo brought in the most money, brought more customers back, helped scout more dancers, and helped train the most. You hated to admit it, but he really was your most valuable employee.

“Don't body shame Suguru,” you half-heartedly scolded Gojo, watching him as you helped Geto.

Gojo was yanking up a pair of skinny jeans past his long legs, struggling to fit into them because his ass wasn’t exactly the flattest. Although skinny jeans might not be trendy right now, the long length and the plump curve of his ass suited it well. Somehow sensing your staring, Gojo turns to you, the corners of his mouth turning up into a sly smirk.

“What’re ya starin’ at?” he asks you with a seductive smile.

You gag. “Get pants that fit better next time.”

“Oh? Maybe I should just wear no pants then.” he teases and you respond with a roll of your eyes.

After helping the rest of your dancers with their various costumes, you gathered them for a quick before-shift pep talk.

“Alright boys, before we start tonight I want to let you know that one of our regulars, Mina, will be here tonight. Does anybody want to explain who she is to the newbies?”

“She’s an old rich lady who’s picky and has a shit ton of annoying ass requests that’ll make you want to rip your hair out and quit.” Gojo quickly chimes in.

Being the favorite of the club had its downsides. For private dances, Mina almost always exclusively chose Gojo. Although she tips him well, he always complains about her to you afterwards. Without fail. Every single time.

“And what kind of requests?” you ask Gojo so that he will explain to the newer boys.

“She’ll ask to touch a lot of things if you do a private dance for her. It’s up to you on what you’re comfortable with, but when we’re out on the floor, no one’s allowed to touch anything.” he explains.

Although Gojo himself could be annoying and a burden to deal with, he is good at what he does. Without him, your club would have shut down a long time ago.

“Alright, thank you, Gojo. Let’s have fun tonight, shake some ass and make some money!” you declare and your employees cheer with their fists up.

When you go to open the doors, the line outside begins to pile in. Nodding to your bouncer in acknowledgement, you watch the club goers by the entrance as you keep an eye out for your regulars or anyone who seems new. As you greet the women walking in, you feel someone bump shoulders with yours. Looking to your side, you look up to see Gojo standing by you in a silk robe and cowboy hat.

“Hey, boss.”

“Shouldn't you be getting ready?”

“I am ready. I got a cowboy bit tonight. The ladies will love it.” he tips his hat at you, playfully winking.

“I’m sure they will.” you spot Mina walk in, watching her take her usual seat towards the front of the stage.

“Will you watch me tonight?”

“No. I’ve got work to do in my office.”

You see Gojo look down and pout in the side of your eye. He’s disappointed. Well, he can stay disappointed. It’s not like this is the only time you can see him dance.

“But Mina is here. I’d feel more comfortable knowing you’re on the floor if she asks me for a dance. I don’t want her trying anything.”

“She won’t.”

“Still. Please?” Gojo’s eyes have a natural sparkle in them it’s hard to say no. The way he so effortlessly holds eye contact with you and begs you through his eyes pisses you off.

“We’ll see.”

•••

If there was one thing you didn’t want, it was any of your dancers feeling uncomfortable in the presence of any of your customers. Pushing aside all the paperwork that was piled up, you made your way to the floor when it was Gojo’s time slot.

You snaked your way through the back of the crowd, your eyes and ears struggling to adjust to the moving colorful lights and the wild screams and cheers from the women in the audience. You lean against a wall, watching Gojo as he gracefully circles a chair on the stage, sitting on it to hump the air aggressively as he rocks his hips to the slow slutty song he’s chosen for tonight. He seems visibly tense, but you don’t know why. When you look closely, you realize his eyes are searching for someone, perhaps Mina. You watch him feel himself up, hands moving to unbutton his shirt before he rips it off and throws it into the crowd of women.

His hands teasingly run over his nipples, squeezing his pecs as he teases his audience more by unbuckling his belt. He looks down at his belt before he takes it off, tossing that item into the audience too. His eyes look back up, continuing to look for someone.

Gojo makes eye contact with you.

Then, a smile of relief.

From then on to the end of the dance, you watch him visibly relax and loosen up a bit more. He’s feeling himself and having more fun, and you’re glad that you came out to watch him like he asked you to.

•••

You’re sitting at the bar massaging your temples with your fingers, a lousy attempt to soothe your worsening headache. You swear under your breath, regretting that you didn’t take painkillers the moment you began to feel your headache. Thankfully, the lights were dimmed and all your dancers had gone home so it was just you as you finished up your final paperwork for the night. You felt absolutely miserable doing it, though. Tonight was just one of those nights.

“Rough night?” you heard the entrance door being unlocked as a shadowed figure stepped in. Walking into the dimmed light, you watched Gojo approach you, a canned drink in his hand.

“Thirsty?” he offers, opening the soda can and handing it to you as he sits next to you, his knee brushing against your leg.

“I don’t even like soda,” your eyes linger on his leg that has brushed up against yours, ignoring the fact that he feels warm against you.

“Yeah, well, that’s the first thing I saw at the convenience store.” he chuckles obnoxiously, and you can’t help but continue to stare at his knee that is still brushed up against your leg.

“I thought you left,” you decide to ignore the warmth you feel from his long legs as you focus on doing your paperwork. You just want to go home. “I saw you leave.”

“I know you want to go home,” he answers, propping his chin on his hand and watching you write something down. “So I came back to help. You seemed a little off tonight.”

“I was not.”

“Was it because I came in late? Were you wondering why I was late when I’m never late?”

“You were late?!” you didn’t even notice.

“You didn’t even notice,” Gojo pouts, one of his hands coming down to rest on the surface, near the paperwork you’re doing. You can’t help but stare at his long fingers, your eyes tracing the prominent veins on his hand.

When you look up, his eyes are staring into yours through his sunglasses that sit crookedly on his nose. You don’t know if he was always sitting so close, but right now his face was leaning into yours, holding eye contact with you as his eyes gazed into yours. He blinks slowly, watching you for any sort of reaction to his stupid deep gaze.

“If you come in late again you’re fired.” you spit out in a panic and look back down to your paperwork. His stupid blue eyes were distracting you and you didn’t want him to know just how much it was affecting you. What was wrong with you?

He lights up, his smile reaching his eyes. He seems satisfied now that you’ve said something. “Yes, ma’am. Tell me what you need help with.”

“Just lock everything up.”

“That’s it?”

“And fix your glasses.”

“The crookedness adds to my sexiness. Anything else?”

“I don’t trust you to do anything else.”

“What about taking you home? Do you trust me doing that?” he playfully asks.

“I can get home just fine.”

“It’s not safe. And besides, can’t I spend time with my favorite person?” he teases, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.

“You really won’t leave me alone, huh?”

“I really don’t want to.”

“Gojo,” you begin. You didn’t have the time or energy to banter with him.

“Call me by my first name.” he asks, a slight pout on his pretty lips.

“That’s weird.”

“But you call Suguru by his first name. Why not me?”

You’re surprised he noticed a small detail like that. “No. And Gojo?” you say as you stand, wondering if he’ll pout about it again.

“Yes?” he’s standing up now, his eyes peering down into yours as he looks at you from up above. He’s more than a full head taller than you, and the fact that he’s staring down at you with an air of arrogance and his stupid smirk makes you want to put him in his place.

There is a moment of tension that rises. It hangs thick in the air and feels dependent on you. On what you will do. On what you will say. You’re not sure what makes it too weird compared to the other late nights you spent with Gojo closing.

Maybe it’s the dimmed lights or the late hours, but Gojo was looking at you with bedroom eyes so you forced yourself to look towards the door behind him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” you start packing up your stuff. Now that Gojo is bothering you, you decide that you’ll just finish everything at home.

“Wait,” his hand lands on the top of yours, his thumb slightly caressing your knuckles to stop you from gathering your things.

“I wanted to thank you for tonight. For watching me. For… for being there for me.” his voice fades, and you know it’s because he's feeling shy and embarrassed. He’s docile and quiet, something he often does when he gets vulnerable with you. You find it quite adorable.

“You’re welcome.” you go to ruffle his hair, but as you’re about to pull your hand away, he catches it one more, moving it so that you’re caressing his cheek. It’s soft, sculpted.

You watch him stare at you in awe. If anybody walked in at this moment, they would think it’s loving and intimate.

“I really thought you wouldn’t come out.” he confesses in a whisper, nuzzling against your palm as his eyes close in bliss.

“Clearly you thought wrong.” you don’t make a move to pull away, and neither does he.

When his eyes open, they are droopy. Gojo smiles softly, guiding your knuckles to his mouth as he presses a gentle kiss to them. When you give him a small smile, he kisses your hand again, this time it’s your ring finger. He kisses the back of your hand, then turns your arm so that he can kiss the inside of your wrist. And finally, his soft lips make their way to caress your palm as he kisses your hand one last time.

You’re not surprised Gojo is being physically affectionate with you. After all, he’s physically affectionate with almost everyone at the club, so it’s not weird to see him kissing people’s cheeks and giving bear hugs to every person he sees. But what he’s doing right now… it’s oddly intimate. Something you thought he’d never do. Especially since he isn’t saying anything playful or flirty. He’s completely serious right now, eyes unwavering as he watches for your reaction.

“Clearly I did.” He may not be kissing your hand anymore, but he’s holding it in his and studying it; watching it as if it’s fascinating. His thumb smooths over your skin, rubbing it gently with love. You feel your heartbeat speed up all of a sudden, your cheeks hot with embarrassment.

“Your hands feel so soft,” he says more to himself than you. Then, “I wonder how they’d feel in my mouth.”

“What?” you stifle a laugh and smile.

“What?”

•••

It was 10am. And Gojo was staring down at you, shades sitting on top of his nose, his eyes peeking out from underneath. You had given Gojo a spare key to your apartment in case of emergencies since he lives a little far from the club and you’re closer. He usually let you know in advance if he was coming over to crash at your place, and the times he did it was because it was too late and he was too tired to go to his own place. But today he decided not to and he knows you don’t get up until after noon so why the hell was he here now and what did he want?

“Get out.” you spat out, crankiness lacing your voice as you turned your body to the other side of the bed and covered your face with the blanket.

“It’s an emergency.”

“Call an ambulance.”

“But it’s a fashion emergencyyy,” he pleads, gently shaking your shoulder. “I forgot to buy lingerie for tonight’s show.”

Tonight was a Saturday night, which meant it was going to be busy. Lots of customers which meant lots of tips. On nights like these, Gojo always decided to dance to something more erotic, sexier than his usual dances. He had mentioned a couple nights ago that he wanted to try out lingerie for the weekend.

“Take Suguru. Leave me alone.” you shooed him away from under the covers.

“But you live closer to the mall. Pleaaaaase? I’ll buy you breakfast and your morning coffee.” he asked.

Your head peaked from beneath the blanket and you eyed his outfit. A black compression shirt and grey sweatpants. You looked away quickly, trying to ignore how well the shirt fit snug around his biceps and chest area, and how low his sweatpants hung on his hips you caught a glimpse of his v-line.

“Fine. But you come in early to help set up. Since you were late the other day.”

You tried to ignore the looks people were giving you at the mall, but you couldn’t help but notice how everyone’s stares lingered on Gojo, or how you saw women old enough to be your grandma giving googly eyes at Gojo everytime the two of you walked by. You knew he was attractive, so why did you feel a pang of jealousy anytime anyone stared at him in awe?

Gojo just had to wear the tightest and smallest clothes he could find. The way his pecs were so clearly defined from his stupid compression shirt and how tightly snug it was and how if you looked closely enough and for long enough, you’d notice the slight bump of his nipples through the thin fabric.

Not to mention his sweats. Fitted, but still loose. Fitted as in you could make out the shape of the curves of his ass as he walked, but loose around his hips that his sweatpants were barely hanging by a thread. It was distracting. Eyeing him again as he sifted through lingerie, you try to ignore the slight bulge through his pants.

“—don’t you think?” Gojo asks, turning to you and holding up the thinnest, sluttiest lingerie you’ve ever seen. It was black and thin and lacy and delicate looking. Gojo would definitely rip it while dancing.

“Too thin,” you shook your head, pretending to ignore whatever he said because you were too busy checking him out.

Turns out he noticed you staring. “You don’t even know what I said.” he tilts his head to look at you. Eyeing you up and down.

“I know what you said. I’m just ignoring you.” you brushed him off, suddenly self conscious and walking to another section of the store and searching through the different sets of lingerie.

“You were too busy looking at my tits to hear anything I said.” Gojo follows you, smirking down at you with his usual stupid arrogance that pisses you off.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Jealous because they’re bigger than yours?” his eyes slightly moved down to your chest, before gazing back up into your eyes.

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Stop changing the subject. Here,” you picked up a bra and panty set that seemed more suitable for stripping. “You won’t rip this accidentally.” It was red and thicker and less lacy than the other set he picked up, but this one was definitely sexier and bolder.

“I’ll try it on.”

You assumed people thought you and Gojo were shopping for you because unless you’re being dramatic, you definitely felt stares of jealousy from random people who walked by. And when Gojo asked an associate to try on his clothes—hangers of solely lingerie, you ignored the stares again. You were sitting outside the dressing room when you felt your phone ringing and saw that it was Gojo.

“Come in and help me.” he immediately said when you picked up.

“What? Why?”

“It’s—it’s a little stuck. I can't take it off. Shit’s way too tight.” he whispers through the phone.

“Why did you put it on in the first place if it was too small?” you lectured.

“I thought I could take it off! I didn’t think it’d be this hard. Help me.” you could hear the desperation and panic in his voice through the phone.

You rolled your eyes, hanging up the phone and walking up to the employee by the dressing rooms.

“My friend needs help taking off their clothes. Mind if I go in?” she brushed you off with a wave and you walked into the dressing room area, trying to look near the floor to get a peek at which room Gojo was in.

“Gojo?” you whispered, hoping the other customers wouldn’t hear.

You instantly saw his hand come from beneath the dressing door, waving you towards him. When he opened the door and let you in, your eyes took in the sight in front of him.

He was right. The lingerie was way too tight around his body. The bra squished his chest together too tightly you saw a cleavage forming and it was for sure better than yours. Looking down at the panties had you staring at him in silence. It was too small you could see his dick slightly sticking out, his tip a soft pink.

“Stop staring and help me!” he stood there and whisper-yelled at you. His hands automatically covered his crotch and your eyes moved back up to his face. His face was flushed, almost looking like the afterglow after sex. His cheeks were a pretty pink and his eyes were looking everywhere but you. His eyebrows were furrowed in worry as he pleaded for your help.

“This is so embarrassing, please do something.”

You nodded, walking over to him and turning him around so his back was towards you and he was facing the mirror. You were going to start by trying to undo the bra clasp, but when you looked up, you saw Gojo watching you in the mirror. Ignoring him, you focused on the bra. Tugging at it, you finally got it open after fiddling with it and it snapped open immediately. Eyeing the marks it left on his back, your fingers lightly trace them in an attempt to soothe it.

“Turn around. Lemme see your front.” you demand, and he automatically turns to face you, his eyes watching your every move.

Your fingers move slightly over the red irritated skin on his chest. Almost like you were under some spell, you traced the red lines, gently rubbing them to soothe it. Gojo’s chest heaves and he lets out a breath he unknowingly was holding. When you look up, his cheeks are red and his lips are parted and he’s looking at you like he’s begging you to kiss him. You didn’t realize you were standing too close to him in this cramped dressing room.

“Gojo?”

“Yes?” His voice is breathy and light and barely a whisper. You could feel your heartbeat beating in your ears and the silence is way too loud and the only thing you can hear are the other customers outside changing.

You lay your hand flat down on his chest above his heart, wanting to see if he was feeling just as nervous as you. And he was. His heartbeat was a panicked rush and he was looking at you like he was waiting for you to make a move.

“Am I making you nervous?” you ask, leaning up towards him, your lips just inches from his.

“Yes.” his Adam’s apple bobs up and down in his throat, and he looks at you, gaze focused on you and you only.

“Is that all?” you ask, wanting more from him. You could tell he was turned on; you didn’t need to look down at his crotch to confirm it. His cheeks were flushed and his breathing was abnormal and he was looking at you like he was begging you to fuck him with his eyes.

“You make me more than just nervous.” he admits.

“Oh?” you waited, a silent beat hanging in the air.

“You make me hard too.” he confirmed, his voice a mere whisper.

Just as you were about to lean into him to kiss him, you heard a loud knock at the changing room door.

“Hey! We don’t allow more than one person in each stall!” the employee on the other side nagged.

“Oh, I’m just helping my friend take off their clothes!” you quickly step away from Gojo, turning around.

“You can take off the underwear by yourself, right? Hurry up!”

•••

Gojo is avoiding you.

Normally you’d be happy, relaxed, welcoming to that sort of behavior. But today it was weird. Ever since yesterday, he has been avoiding you like the plague. Even going so far as ignoring you completely when he walked in on time today and you tried to greet him.

Gojo almost never avoids; actually it’s always the opposite. When he’s not busy, he’s following you around like a puppy and carrying out any order you bark at him. Cleaning the tables, sweeping the floor, whatever it was, he was happy to do it for you. Only today he hasn’t spoken a word to you. Hasn’t even glanced at you.

So why did it bother you so much?

As you help set up the bar with Geto, your eyes follow Gojo’s movements as he moves across the floor, setting up the tables and chairs for tonight’s opening.

“Your eyes are drilling holes into him. Something happened between the two of you?” Geto asks by your side as you wipe a wine glass clean.

“He’s ignoring me.”

“That’s new. What’d he do?”

You think back to the last couple days. His lips on your hands. His soft, whispered tone as he stared into your eyes with those stupid bright blue ocean eyes of his. Then in the dressing room, how he became so obviously aroused by you just touching him slightly. How there was so much tension you would have fucked him right then and there if you weren’t interrupted.

“Who knows,” you shrugged it off, deciding to act like it wasn’t a big deal that Gojo was ignoring you. It totally wasn’t. Not at all. It wasn’t like you’ve been staring at him the moment he came in wondering why he won’t talk to you or anything like that. Not at all.

You’re not sure what happened tonight, but Mina stopped by to speak with you, concerned for Gojo.

“He wasn’t like his usual self tonight,” she told you. “It’s like his head was totally somewhere else. I didn’t even ask to touch his beautifully sculpted big rock hard cock like I usually do.”

“You didn’t need to tell me the last part, Mina.” you scrunch your nose in disgust at her words.

“I’m saying I’m worried. You should check up on the boy. Maybe you’re overworking him, eh?” she told you with a shake of her finger as she exited through the doors as the last customer.

You didn’t watch Gojo tonight and decided to stay in your office, so you wondered if that had anything to do with him not doing his best tonight. Wanting to find out, you started looking for Gojo throughout the establishment. The break room, the bathroom, the changing room, but he was nowhere to be found. Just when you walk back to your office to call him, you open the door to find him leaning against your desk, arms crossed across his chest.

“Who said you could come into my office?” you close the door, ignoring the fact that he’s leaning on your desk and wearing his stupid compression shirt and gray sweatpants.

He ignores you, instead, choosing to follow you behind your desk and stare at you some more. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Ignore me.”

“What? I’m ignoring you? Do you hear yourself? I tried to say hi to you when you walked in, and you pretended to not know I was there. You’re the one who’s been ignoring me.” you told him.

“You ignored me first.” he sighs in frustration, looking away with a pout on his pretty lips.

“Gojo, what’re you talking about?”

“Yesterday! In the dressing room. You almost kissed me. You know I wanted to kiss you too. Then after that, you just pretended like nothing happened. And I hate that you don’t call me Satoru.” he almost rolls his eyes, whining and complaining like a child.

Oh. So that’s what he was hurt about. He wasn’t wrong; you did kind of just brush off whatever happened in the dressing room and pretended like nothing happened. But that’s because you didn’t know how to deal with your feelings and you assumed he didn’t want you like that.

You’re fucking stupid.

“I’m sorry,” you stand up quickly, moving so that you’re standing in front of him. His legs part slightly, letting you stand in his personal space as he manspreads all over your desk.

“I just assumed you didn’t think much of it, and I didn’t want to look stupid if I made a move or said anything about it.” you confessed, watching him for his reaction.

“You do look stupid,” he jests, eyes lighting back up, empty of his worries and concerns. “I’ll forgive you if you call me Satoru. No more Gojo this, Gojo that. I want you to call me Satoru.”

You throw him a thankful smile. “Mina was worried about you. She told me today before she left. Said you weren’t doing your best.”

“Mina can go kick the bucket.”

You gasp and hit him jokingly. “Hey! She practically pays your rent!”

He wrinkles his nose in annoyance. “I got a bigger size for the lingerie. It got me my best tips ever.”

“Even though you were out of it tonight?”

“Yeah…” he says quietly, taking a moment to think to himself. “But I think I ripped it.”

“You should just buy a new one then. Don’t sew it up.”

“Hmm. I think you can sew it. At least take a look at it.”

When you reluctantly agree, Gojo spreads his legs a little further, his hands wrapping around your waist to pull you further into him. Your eyes automatically move down to his crotch as he presses you against it, the outline of his hardened dick against your legs. He swiftly takes off his shirt, the red bra sitting against his chest.

“You’re staring.” he observes aloud.

“No, I’m not.” you reply, your eyes trained on his hardened nipples that are practically peeking out through the lacy thin bra.

When you finally manage to tear your eyes away from his body and actually inspect the bra, you see that it’s actually in perfect condition and not ripped at all.

Then you realize what Gojo is doing.

“You idiot! You didn’t rip your stupid bra! You just wanted an excuse to take off your clothes.” you finally look up at his eyes with a glare. His stupid ocean eyes stare down at you arrogantly, a playful smirk painted on his pretty face as he sticks his tongue out at you.

“You’re totally right. I lied to you. How mean of me to lie directly to your face, huh?” he tells you sarcastically.

You raise an eyebrow at his sarcasm. Where was he going with this?

“I suppose I might need to be punished for that.” he says, his voice bored and waiting.

You take a moment to think about what he’s asking from you. It was obvious enough he wanted you the way you wanted him; his hardened cock was throbbing against your leg and his hips began to slightly move against your body, a subtle desperation for any sort of friction.

But what exactly did he want? Did he want you to suck him off, or bend you over the desk and fuck you? Gojo didn’t seem like the type to want to do that though; from his interactions with you, he was definitely one for harsh punishments that caused pain. Masochistic little bitch.

While you’re busy thinking, your eyes stay on his lips, perfectly soft and begging to be kissed. So you lean in, pressing a warm and pleasant kiss to his lips. Gojo almost immediately gives into your warmth, leaning in closer to you, his hands wrapping around your waist. He exhales a shaky breath against your cheek, kissing you back gently. When you pull back and look at him, he raises an eyebrow.

“That didn’t feel like a punishment.”

“What kind of punishment were you thinking of?” you ask, because you weren’t about to waste your time guessing.

“Oh, I don’t know… perhaps a couple of spanks might suffice. And maybe while I’m bent over your desk.” he wonders aloud to himself.

You laugh out loud. He’s definitely thought this scenario through. Without replying verbally, you grab Gojo by the front of his bra, aggressively yanking him towards you as you greet him with a kiss. This time it’s not as soft or gentle as the first one. You’re more aggressive this time, biting down on his bottom lip and licking the inside of his mouth. He moans into your mouth, his legs wrapping around your waist and pulling you into him. His moans are dripping with desire, so desperate for more as he kisses you harder, overly excited and clumsy.

“Pants off. Now.” you breathe into the kiss and pull away for a second.

But Gojo is still kissing you. Your cheek, the side of your mouth; any part of your skin he can reach with his mouth. His hands are shakily tugging at his jeans, impatiently trying to yank them down. His legs leave your waist and you yank him off the desk, roughly turning him around and bending him over your desk. Pushing your things aside, you finish stripping him of his pants and they pool at his ankles.

You look down at him, taking the sight of him in. The back of his neck is flushed red, one of his bra straps is falling down his shoulder, and his curved ass cheeks are rubbing against your legs, hungry for some sort of stimulation. He’s wearing a thong, the string between his ass cheeks thin and so easy to rip off.

Your hand caresses his ass, soothing his skin before you slap him lightly, curious as to how much he can take.

“Nghh,” he whimpers lowly. “Hit me harder.” he demands, arching his back and sticking his ass further up the air for you.

Cautiously, you smack his ass harder than the first time, and you watch his pale skin turn a bright red.

“More.”

You give in to Gojo’s demands once more, leaning over his back and smacking his ass. You lean close to his face as he lets out a high pitched whine.

“Quit telling me what to do, Satoru.” you harshly whisper in his ear, and he moans in return, excited to hear you call him by his first name for the first time. He rubs his ass against you again, whines of pleasure escaping his lips.

“Hnghh, spank me harder, please.” he asks you.

“You could beg a little more if you’re that needy.” you tell him with a slap to his ass, listening to the sweet sounds of his whines.

“Nghh, p-please… please…”

“Please what? What would you like me to do to you, Satoru?” you emphasize his name, enjoying his whimper of pleasure every time his name escapes your lips.

“I want more… more than your hands on my ass.” he’s quiet, almost shy and too embarrassed to admit what he really desires.

“What would that be, hm?” your hands place on his waist, your fingers rubbing in circles on his soft skin as you whisper into his ear. “Is it just more spanking you want? Or do you want me to fuck you?”

“Mmm, God, y-yes please. Please, please fuck me. I’m so hard and horny, please let me come.” he begs you, his voice high and whiny and desperate.

“How do you want me to fuck you?” your fingers make their way between his ass, ghosting over his hole as you kiss the back of his neck, sucking hard on his skin to mark him.

“Hnghh,” he whimpers, unable to reply.

“Answer me.” you demand, smacking his ass once more.

“F-fuck, ahh… your fingers. I-I want them in my ass. Stretch me out and fuck me until I cum, please.” Gojo finally voices, a breath of relief leaving his chest. “There’s lube in your left drawer.” he tells you, out of breath and impatiently waiting.

“Did you put that there without telling me?” you ask, taking it out from your desk.

“Yes, I’ve been waiting for this exact moment for months.”

“What a slut you are,” you laugh, yanking down his panties and pouring the cold liquid between his ass. He moans as you lean over him again, your finger rubbing at his entrance. “How long have you been wanting me to fuck you?”

“Mmm, since I started working for you.”

You didn’t realize Gojo had a thing for you for that long. He’s one of the OG employees that have been with you since you opened the club a couple years back. You thought it was odd he never dated much, but it turns out it was because he was too busy pining over you to consider anyone else.

While you’re distracted thinking about how long Gojo has wanted you, his voice draws your attention back to his body.

“C-Can you touch my… me, please.” he asks shyly.

“Where?”

“My cock, please.”

You smile, glad he was clearly asking for what he wanted from you. You reach down to grab his dick, stroking it firmly as your other hand works on his ass. His tip is already wet with pre-cum, and his hips are thrusting in your hand as he moans with every stroke from you.

“You’re dripping wet,” you tell him. “Ready to cum already?”

“Haaaah, I want to cum from your fingers. I bet they’re gonna feel so good inside me.” he says. Then, “you can put one finger in. I’m ready.”

You happily oblige, slowly and steadily entering his hole with one finger, and he immediately tightens around you. Your lips stay on his neck, peppering him with small kisses to aid him through the process.

“Good job, Satoru. You’re taking it so well.”

“Haaah, I love it when you call me by my name.” he tightens around you after he hears you using his name, his hardened cock throbbing in your hand as you loosen him up.

You slowly work him open, kissing and sucking and licking his skin as he shudders and moans beneath you. But your walls are thin and Gojo is too loud. His moans are growing louder the more you fuck him with your fingers, and you’re getting worried someone might somehow hear even though it’s after hours.

“You’re too loud.” you tell him, roughly shoving your fingers into him as a small punishment.

You should’ve known he was going to enjoy it.

“Unghh,” he whimpers, louder than his other moans. His back arches once more, shoving his ass into your fingers and clenching around you, desperate for more. “C-can’t help it. Feels too good.” he moans out.

Your other hand leaves his front, covering his mouth with your palm. He moans as you continue fucking him, your office dead silent besides his moaning and the sound of your fingers fucking him. You feel his tongue against your hand, licking his leftover pre-cum off your hand.

“Filthy slut,” you tell him, and he tightens around you in response, sticking his tongue out so you can shove your fingers in his throat.

His mouth is warm and his tongue wraps around your digits, taking them into his mouth and sucking. His eyebrows draw together and he closes his eyes in pleasure, trembling with pleasure. He’s practically fucking himself on your fingers, hips moving on their own as he chases his high. You finger him roughly, leaning down to leave hickeys on his neck as he continues to thrust into you and suck and moan on your fingers. He practically screams in pleasure when you take him over the edge, his hips stuttering as he spurts on your floor. He breathes heavily against you as you rub his ass, your other hand leaving his mouth.

“Good?” you ask after a couple minutes of letting him catch his breath.

“Call me by my first name.”

“Satoru?” you ask and he stands back up and turns around to look at you.

You laugh at the sight of him: pants pooled at his ankles, hair tousled and sticking to his forehead with sweat, and cheeks red, and his bra barely hanging on.

“Why are you laughing at me,” he pouts, pulling his sweats back up in embarrassment.

“I didn’t know you liked being fucked like that.” you point out, wiping your hands.

“Well, I am a filthy slut.” he winks, his hands coming up to your shoulders and guiding you to sit in your office chair. “My turn.”

“Clean your jizz up first.” you nod towards the spot on the floor where he finished.

His cheeks flush. “After I eat you out.”

•••

a/n: yall i was too lazy to write the second smut scene so use your imagination 😂 i’m too excited to write my enemies to lovers zuko story so stay tuned! (btw i totally named this fic after that one song by liam payne lmao)

m.list

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bluecollarmcandtf · 1 year ago

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How to Use Your Meat Suit

I can't believe how awesome this weekend was! Let's just say that the perfect way to avoid a hangover is to just possess randos to take the hit for you!

It all started on Friday, when I took Tyler just as he got out of practice. He never saw it coming, and once his body was an empty suit for me to wear, I was ready to hop in and have the best night of my life!

I could actually feel the lingering adrenaline from his workout, and it was exhilarating! I tossed his bags aside and ran to my house party down the street, which was easy with his limber legs. Everyone went wild when I showed up as the star basketball player. They didn't care about his BO; they were just happy to watch me flex those freshly pumped arms.

Friday night went by in a flash of loud music and crowded dancing, but a lot of people started wondering why Tyler got piss drunk and began grinding against all the guys.

I don't have much to say for myself other than I may have put a little too much alcohol in his body and lost control. Drinking makes me horny, and I sure did not care about Tyler's former reputation. People might not think of him as the cool lady-killer he used to be, but that's not my problem.

Anyways, I dropped his body when a cop busted us around 4 am. I could barely stand, I was so drunk, so I'm not surprised Tyler collapsed to the floor the second I stopped puppeteering him.

I jumped into the policeman who'd shown up.

It was weird to go from blackout drunk to stone-cold sober, but I quickly gathered my bearings. Now in control of the cop, I pried the drink from Tyler's sweaty limp fingers and sloppily swallowed it all! The crowd went wild, and the party raged on.

And just like that I went back to dancing and drinking, only I was now wearing the body of an on-duty police officer.

Being a little more sober, I spent the early hours of Saturday morning trying to hook up with someone. I think most of the guys there were a little too intimidated to be talking to a cop, but I eventually found someone.

This guy walked up to me and called me a pig. I think he was trying to offend me, but he only succeeded in turning me on. I pulled him close and oinked in his ear playfully. He got the message and dragged me to an upstairs bedroom. The rest of the night was a blur as I continued to down drinks, but I could definitely tell that my date was getting off on degrading the officer I had on.

The officer's body eventually collapsed to the floor in a drunken exhaustion, so I jumped out. It was almost midday by then, so I ventured outside and found someone else to possess.

There was this construction site across the street. Several of the workers were idly chatting about the nearby house party that was still going strong.

Without warning, I hopped into the contractor; he was the only man there that wasn't fat, old, or ugly. He certainly smelled ripe, but I rather enjoyed how filthy he was. Wearing his masculine body instantly tented the pole in his jeans, but I didn't bother trying to hide it from his coworkers.

I quickly ordered them to take the day off, which left them mostly confused. I'm sure I was acting out of character, but I didn't care. I just waved the team away, and marched down the street to a bearby liquor store.

There, I fished out all the cash in the guys wallet to use on booze. It was a good thing his body was strong enough to haul it all back on his shoulders. Though the party was starting to wind down, it quickly revamped when I restocked the drinks. Before long, I was back to drinking and dancing on any guy who'd let me, only this time I was wearing the construction worker's body.

That party lasted all weekend. It quickly became a legend on campus for its good luck and neverending supply of liquor. No one knew that it was all the work of some friendly ghost. I just wanted everyone to have a good time!

The three guys I possessed didn't have the best time though.

Tyler woke up at some point with a splitting headache and no memory of all the twerking and flirting he'd done the night before. He did eventually hear stories, which left him feeling utterly humiliated. His teammates never let him live that one down.

I don't think the cop lost his job, but he was reprimanded for not reporting in after his shift. I think the officer was just glad none of his colleagues knew he'd woken up in the middle of a college party, his uniform soaked in alcohol and who knows what else!

That construction worker woke up just before his next shift. He was completely confused and hungover, but he stifled his worries and shuffled across the street. He was more than happy to just show up at work like nothing had happened.

I'm thinking about throwing another party next week. The Dean of the college has a pretty large house, and I'm sure his students would love to see me letting loose in his body...

#gay mind control #gay ai art #gay possession #male possession #body possession #body suit #body swap

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thebramblewood · 5 months ago

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The night where it all began, part one.

Previous / Next

Caleb: Mother and Father wouldn’t approve of you going out alone at night.

Lilith: Which is precisely why Mother and Father need not find out.

Caleb: Surely you can miss one party.

Lilith: I can, but why should I? I’m not like you, Caleb. It takes more than a book to satisfy my pleasure. There’s still time for you to dress. [teasingly] Besides, you’ll never find a proper young lady to court if you refuse to leave the house.

Caleb: And you’ll never attract an upstanding suitor so long as you keep shamelessly flirting in public with married men.

Lilith: Oh, but it’s such fun!

[both laughing]

Lilith: [melodramatically] Poor Mother and Father, burdened with two prospectless children. I almost pity them. They’ll certainly die of shame if the family line ends with us. Of course, they haven’t lost all hope. I may be doomed to crusty old widowers, but they’re still trotting out pretty girls for you. You might just marry yet.

Caleb: [mumbles] Isn’t that a loathsome thought?

Lilith: At least they’d leave you be. There are only so many reasons a young man willingly resigns himself to perennial bachelorhood, and they’re beginning to grow suspicious.

Caleb: We both have our proclivities.

Lilith: Yes. But people talk, and their talk is far less likely to wound you if you’re the one directing its aim.

Caleb: Oh, is that what’s happening when they call you the femme fatale of the ball in the society pages?

Lilith: There are far worse things to be called. Count yourself lucky they’ve only latched onto your social ineptitude thus far, wilted wallflower.

Caleb: Be careful.

Lilith: Now, where’s the fun in that?

Caleb: Lil-

Lilith: I can take care of myself.

#ts4 #sims 4 #ts4 story #sims 4 story #story: hzid #caleb vatore #lilith vatore #RISE AND SHINE!#unnecessarily defensive reminder that all flashback scenes are history-inspired but not necessarily historical!#as in i'm taking certain liberties for aesthetic and storytelling purposes!#world war i?#i don't know her #this is sim nation and i make the rules #(also i edited or made every pose in this scene #it was a herculean task whew #i don't know how some of you do this all the time!!)

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mothiir · 5 months ago

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put Cato in the cuck chair

….but this time with sex pollen. I’m sorry for this. Inspired ofc by @moodymisty, @pluvio-tea, @kit-williams and all others who have got me into bully boy cato

cw: gangbang, sex pollen, Cato being a sexist prick.

—

The first indication you have that the mission has gone very, very wrong is the sight of Roboute sans helmet, cheeks flushed red, blue eyes spangling like the aftermath of a nuclear explosion — he practically barrels into Sicarius’ quarters, where you are mending a tear in an Ultramarine’s undergarment, while Sicarius himself fumes quietly in the corner, clearly still rankling from being excluded from the planet side drop. We need someone to watch the diplomat, Roboute had said, in that tone that brooked no argument.

The diplomat, Roboute calls you. The lady, the squad say. And yet Cato Sicarius still has no shame whatsoever in calling you the woman — or, when he is especially vexed (and Roboute is not within earshot) the whore.

Sicarius is on his feet at once. “My lord —?”

The rest of the squad follows in, collapsing into the room like a pack of hounds returned from the chase. One of them yanks his helm off, revealing a face flushed just as Roboute’s, nostrils flared and panting.

“Daemon,” the young recruit manages, only for one of his brothers to shush him frantically.

“Died,” another astartes supplies. His helm is already long gone; his sandy hair plastered to his scalp with sweat. His eyes are shining.

“Yes, died but afterwards —“

”Spores,” manages a third, shucking off his gauntlets. “Father, it is too hot.” The last sentence is directed towards Roboute; it lilts almost into a whine, a sound so incongruous with the marine’s bulk that you may have found it funny, in less dramatic circumstances. “Father it is too hot, and it hurts — “

”Be at ease, Augustus — we will be fine. We will all be fine.”

Roboute moves in a blur of blue. It still shocks you how a man of such bulk can dash with the speed and grace of a hare. He grabs Sicarius by the scruff, and lifts him bodily off the ground, dropping him without ceremony into a chair, pressing a strange gun into his hands. It’s all sharp angles and edges — Eldar make? Sicarius eyes it with deep suspicion.

“What is —?”

”If things seem to be going too far — if she is in peril of mortal wounds — I want you to shoot us,” says Roboute, his voice low and serious, and yet somehow wrenched. He clasps Sicarius’s face with one hand, pinching his cheeks together. “This is a bio-weapon — it will only effect those with Ultramarine DNA. She’ll be fine, but it will knock the men out and a few shots will slow even myself down. I would rather not use it — I would rather solve this using more old-fashioned means — but I do not want her to perish in such an ignoble way. ”

Sicarius is so rarely at a loss for words. His mouth pops open, apparently to ask something, but he’s silenced when Roboute —

When Roboute kisses him. Hard. On the mouth. Your eyes widen, and Roboute curses, shoving the other marine away.

“Apologies, Cato — it’s all — it’s a ll a little much at present.”

Roboute turns to you. He has positioned the chair so it is facing the chaise lounge on which you perch, mending in your lap. The furniture here is all too large for you, designed for Space Marine bulk, and you are suddenly, profoundly aware of your own smallness.

“My Lord,” Sicarius manages. “What was —“

”Slaneeshi daemon. Last minute defence strategy. It — it will wear off eventually, but we need to redirect the urges, lest it tear us apart. Augustus, stop touching Cicero — Cicero, get your hand out of your damn pants. Have some dignity.”

”But you just kissed —“

”Nevermind that, you heard the Primarch get your hands off my arse —“

Three of the squad are directly behind the chaise lounge, slap-fighting with each other as they scramble to remove their armour, dropping it directly onto the floor in a manner that would have a tech-priest weeping at the flagrant disrespect shown to the machine-spirit within. Two others are practically glued to the door, huddled together like lambs, apparently afraid to move, quivering —

Quivering with fear, or with the effort of restraining themselves? Neither are wearing their helmets, and both are staring directly at you with a focus that is damn unnerving. It seems almost — almost hungry —

In another blur of preternatural speed, Roboute is before you, removing the mending from your lap with deliberate care. His smile is somewhat fixed, and doesn’t touch his manic eyes.

“My lady, when you took this position you swore that you would give your life up for the Ultramarines, and in service of the Emperor,” he says, his voice still rough and low. Normally, the Primarch deliberately pitches his voice a little higher, avoiding his normal voice, which is clearly inhuman, a rumbling bass that speaks of deep lungs and a biology almost as alien to you as the Eldar.

“Of course. Always.”

”Good. Good. Then I ask this of you as. I would ask my men to go to battle. You are strong, and I know you will endure.”

”I — I’ll do anything, of course I will,” you say, lost in the magnificent glow of his eyes, unable to deny him even if you wanted to. Primarchs are practically hypnotic to their own legions; a baseline human stands no chance.

“Good girl,” he says, and tucks your hair behind your ear. “You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? So willing to please.”

”Father, can I —“

”Primarch gets dibs, shut up —“

You look back again at the bickering astartes, and your heart stutters at the sight: they’re all naked; skin flushed and glossy with sweat. The two by the door have joined their brothers, disrobing with shaking hands.

“When you said…when you said service,” you say, pieces starting to click into place just a little too late. “Uh —“

”Hush, little one,” Roboute says. “Drink this.”

He shoves a bottle up at your face. You swallow instinctively, and Roboute stares at the movement of your throat, the flex and pull of muscles. It’s tea — you recognise the smell, if not the taste. Relationships between human women and Space Marines are rarely spoken of but by no means rare, and this tea is infamous among certain circles for making thing s a little easier. It’s a variation on an old Ultramarine recipe that aids with childbirth. It eases pain and opens you up.

”There. Good. Swallow that. Swallow it all.”

Roboute, apparently unable to wait any longer, sits beside you and pulls you into his lap. His mouth on yours is eager and demanding, his tongue sliding past your lips, filling your mouth. You close your eyes and kiss back, wondering if this is all a fantastical dream. The Primarch tugs at your dress, pulling it off your shoulders, bearing your breasts, and you hear five astartes moan in harmony.

No. Not a dream.

”Hold her —“ Roboute orders, lifting you up, and another astartes gathers you into his arms, his prick rigid against your thigh. He cradles you to his chest, his mouth seeking your nape, his tongue along your jugular. You squirm in his grasp, panting as his hand goes straight between your legs, thick fingers probing along your cunt, only to withdraw. Primarch’s dibs, you realise, and bite back a shrill of hysterical laughter.

Roboute has rid himself of his own armour, his cock standing up in his lap; you try to eyeball measurements, planting a hand on your stomach. He grabs you back, and replaces your hand with his.

“You’ll take me, little one. I have faith in you. You’ll take all of us.”

—

Cato Sicarius is going to shoot himself. He’s decided — it is the only honourable thing to do. The xenos weapon is cool in his hand, and he caresses the trigger in slow, circular motions that certainly aren’t meant to be echoing the movements of your slender hips.

You took Roboute up to the hilt with no small amount of effort, puffing and mewling, and growing teary eyed — but his gene-father kept urging you down, cooing about what a good girl you were, what a loyal servant, how well you took him — and, demonstrating once more that the Avenging Son can achieve the impossible, you ended up with the full length of a Primarch in your guts, your belly bulging around him. Your thighs were stretched to their limit as you straddled him, and — lazy thing that you are — you didn’t have the strength to ride him. That did not seem to matter to Gulliman, who simply picked you up and slid you back down, using you like a toy. He started off as slow as possible, but soon abandoned that, jerking his hips up to meet you as he yanked you down again, and again, and again.

The tears soon broke into full on sobs. Gulliman hushed and soothed you — patently ridiculous, in Sicarius’s opinion, since you were only doing your duty, and no one (least of all a damn woman) should be praised for doing their part for the Emperor’s will — and you tried your best to swallow back your cries, lips swollen and puffy as he kissed you, nipping and sucking at your flesh. Sicarius’s battle brothers flocked closer, clearly wanting to touch but not daring, not yet, instinctively waiting for Roboute to have his fill.

As Sicarius is counting the threads on the chaise lounge — and only because your moans and whimpers irritate him so, not to distract himself — Roboute finally cums. Your belly is stretched so tightly around him that Sicarius sees the Primarch’s seed slip inside you, pulse after pulse. He wonders what that feels like. How you feel —

No he does not. One hundred and twenty, one hundred and eighteen, two hundred and eighty six —

“Your turn, Augustus,” Roboute pants, and the next battle brother practically yanks you off his gene-father��s prick. Apparently unbothered by the fact that you are leaking Roboute’s seed down your thighs, like the worst kind of degenerate whore, Augustus crams himself inside, taking you as he stands, one hand supporting your arse, the other holding his cock steady as he lets gravity do its work, sinking you onto him. You squeal with astonishment.

“S’big,” you slur. All a show — he bets you’ve been dreaming of something like this. Dreaming of an excuse to bed your betters, to spread your legs and take them, to do what you are meant to do. No attempts at diplomacy here, no pretence at being more than you are, just spread thighs and a wet, greedy cunt, and a womb to be filled, and filled again. Disgusting. Disgraceful.

He’s never been so hard in his entire life.

He bites the inner part of his cheek, to — to try and avoid shouting at you. That’s it. He wants to shout at you, to call you a filthy little slut for tempting his Primarch so. His battle-brothers should be with an apothecary, being treated for the aftermath of their mission, not here, rutting against you like animals. When Augustus finishes — quicker than he intended, judging by the sound of frustration he makes as his balls gather up and he empties himself inside you — Hadrian and Decimus take ahold of you. The two youngest members of the squad could be twins, with hair that shades more to red than blonde, and the pale skin of Ultramar’s northern, rain-soaked wastes.

”Open your mouth,” says Decimus, and you obey, your tiny lips barely enough to cover the head of the astartes’ purple-flushed cock. “Swallow it, swallow me —“

Meanwhile, Hadrian is positioning you on the lounger, mounting you from behind, trying to ensure your mouth can reach his brother’s cock, but his cock can bury himself inside. It’s an endeavour that should be easy, but you make it difficult — as you always, always do — by squirming and whimpering as Hadrian aims for your cunt, slides on the seed his squad mates have left, and almost sinks into your arse instead. You should let him, Sicarius thinks. You should take him in the arse and thank him, you should take him in the arse and thank him, thank you Cato, my lord, thank you, I’m nothing, I’m —

He grips the gun a little tighter. Shifts from cheek to cheek. Tries to think of the least arousing things he can. Tyranid gene organs, tyranid gene organs — the weird goo that pulses out of a Nurgling when you shoot it — his genefather naked, his genefather buried inside you, his cock distending you, your expression fucked-stupid and slack and —

Not helping. Not helping. Oh, he hates you, hates, you hates you —

“By the throne, that’s good. How are you still so tight?”

Hadrian has managed to penetrate you at least, and you cannot answer his question, even if you had the brains to: Decimus has his cock in your mouth, your jaw stretched so widely that tendons stand out in your neck, your eyes streaming with effort.

”That’s it — swallow, let me in, going to fuck your face,” Decimus promises, and you keen, with eagerness or distress. Maybe both. Sicarius hopes it is both. He hopes you want it, and hate how you want it, and hate how good you feel —

Count the stitches on the chaise lounge. Count the — the tiles on the floor. Count the number of his battle brothers who have cum inside you. With a low, drawn out groan, Hadrian makes three. And then he’s literally dragged away, Cicero taking his place.

“You’ve made such a mess,” the astartes coos. You can only manage a gargling slurry of sound, Decimus now making good on his promise, one leg folded under him, the other dangling off the crunch to support him as he starts to hump into your throat. “I wonder if you’ll have a child after this — wonder if you’ll give us a nice little recruit —“

Slicking himself up with the spend pulsing out of you, he pushes in, and you arch your back, popping your hips up, making it easier for him. The sight of you submitting — of you presenting — or maybe the thought of you growing fat with child after this revolting display does something to Decimus, who cums in your mouth. Your throat bulges as his seed spills down inside you, but there is too much to swallow, and you hack and cough it up as he pulls out, your chin sticky and white.

Decimus huffs, almost sulkily. “Don’t cough it up — lick it up. Go on.”

He gathers his own cum on his fingers, and pushes it onto your tongue. You’re too tired to move at first, but something registers, and you start licking his digits clean with swipes of your kitten pink tongue. Sicarius imagines you crawling to his feet, nuzzling your face against his crotch, begging him to give you a taste, just a taste — he would say no, of course, and backhand you across the face for your whorish temerity, but he would not mind the display.

Titus is the last to take his due, settling himself down in Decimus’ place, stroking your hair, murmuring soft nonsense to you, like he is comforting you. You don’t need comfort, Sicarius wants to snarl, you want a cock in your throat. All the way down there. That’s what he would do, ram himself into your soft palette and keep going, keep going until your gag reflex was just a helpless little flutter around his shaft —

— that’s what he would do if he were a lesser man, that is. If he were — if he were tainted. If he was ordered. Would Gulliman order him to fuck you? Sicarius’ mouth goes dry at the thought. Maybe he would, maybe his Primarch would see you lying there in a pool of ejaculate and realise what Sicarius has known all along: that you aren’t a diplomat but a whore. That you’re more use to the Legion on your back. That you shouldn’t be using your sweet little tongue to convince xenos to co-operate with the cause of the Emperor, but to lick his balls until he came all over your face.

Yes. If Gulliman ordered it of him he would. He would not be able to defy his Primarch — such a thing would be tantamount to heresy! He would take you from behind, but yank your head up so he could watch your face as he bullied inside. He would fuck you until even Titus realised that soft words were lost on you. He would —

He would try very hard not to cum in his armour like a neophyte as Titus petted your hair, your lips beginning to bleed from the stretch around his cock. Gulliman has returned to the fray, running his hands along your sides, spreading your cheeks to stare at the ruin they’ve no doubt made of your cunt. Maybe he will turn you about, just a little, so Sicarius can see —

He does not. That’s fine. It’s fine.

Instead, the Primarch slides a thumb into your arse, working it in and out, as you shift and mew, face boiled red and slick with drool. Titus’ eyes are closed, his head lolling back with pleasure, heedless of his brother’s impatient commentary.

“Lieutenant, hurry up, I want her mouth again.”

”Father, Titus is hogging her, make him share.”

Roboute smiles indulgently at his men, now with a finger worked inside you. “Titus, if you don’t mind —?”

”Ah — apologies, my lord.” He strokes your hair back from your face, his fingers tracing the outline of his cock in your throat. “I’m going to cum in your mouth, darling. You can swallow it for me, can’t you?” Wide-eyed, and so eager to please, you nod as best you can. Titus starts moving his hips with intent, the wet glucking sounds of your throat audible even over the Ultramarine’s chatter and the obscene squelch of Roboute’s fingers butterflying you open.

“That’s it — good girl —“

No sooner has he finished then Roboute snatches you up, arranging you once more on his lap — this time, however, starting to sink into a different hole. Your eyes bug with pain. “Lord —“

”Hush, little one. You can take me. And look!”

He gestures over to Sicarius.

“Kind Sicarius is keeping watch to ensure nothing goes awry — don’t fret, I know that he does not like you especially, but he does not wish to see his brothers dishonour themselves by killing you so. Isn’t that right, Sicarius? You’ll watch us most carefully — and I do appreciate it. As, I’m sure, does she.”

The Primarch’s burning eyes meet Sicarius’s over your shoulder as he starts once more to inch his way inside, your body struggling to accommodate him. And then — oh, it must be a trick of the light, or some of your witchery, because he swears that Roboute winks at him.

#On the bully sicarius train #roboute/reader #space marine/reader #cato gets cucked #cato sicarius/reader #my writing #cuck cato

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