#i feel like the depth of this is lost a little bit
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there was a heavy silence . . however, not awkward. you could just feel the depth that both of them felt on separate levels, especially in regards to their own selves; and as he spoke, she could understand wholeheartedly where he was coming from. that feeling of never being good enough for anyone? plagued her entirety everyday. hence this animated and turned up version of herself she enjoyed portraying to the world â some days it felt like a bit of a performance; sometimes exhausting to try and upkeep, to the point when she was alone and allowed to truly feel how she was feeling . . it was overwhelming.
âi get that . .â softly she mused, almost underneath her breath - at a volume level there was a high likelihood he never heard. âi know people like to argue that sometimes thatâs not our decision to make, like â what other people deserve? but they donât understand the weight of the expectation we put on ourselves, too. especially when itâs people we love.â sydâ was always willing to offer her own take on his words, it was interesting to see if they were in the exact same box, or if they interpreted things a little different. it was the beauty of truly getting to know another person. âguess thatâs why i remained in a shitty long-term relationship. gaslit myself into thinking i deserved nothing more than that.â the strained chuckle that followed wasnât in hurt of the situation, more-so the lack of belief she had in herself.
âi do think you have a tendency of selling yourself short, though . .â words were offered, a pause following as the tone in her voice bounced back to her signature lighthearted and humorous version. âa good fuck? i would argue a great one, but thatâs just me . .â a playful shrug paired with the jest.
the duality of how easy they were able to switch between meaningful conversation and banter wasnât lost on her. the balance couldnât of been more to her preference if she had asked. the same sentiment remained true for their physical interactions â they werenât over each other like rabid animals, but there were soft touches, with the intent of being helpful. the descent proved much easier, the sun deciding to hither behind a cloud for the last remaining miles, giving them some much needed rest bite.
four hours after setting off on their adventure, they were safely back in the cocoon of his hotel suite â having freshened themselves up, they now patiently awaited the delivery of a chinese takeout. a suggestion he made that she couldnât of been more thrilled about. that was definitely her favorite when it came to cuisine choices . . so it was highly anticipated. âhey.â emerging from the bathroom after her quick shower, the californian rested against the doorway wrapped in a towel; attempting to get his attention. âi didnât pack anything . . like, lounge worthy.â biting down on her lower lip, a slightly embarrassed expression crawling onto her now bare face. âi donât suppose you could supply a shirt or something? . . i would promise to return it, but i think iâd rather just add it to my ever growing collection.â brows raised cheekily - a smirk etching into the side of her lips.
when: 3.8.25 / 8:45am where: los angeles, ca. who: @zmrzeltm
Between the early morning rise and the haze of lust that they had only now just acted on, Jon was spent. Content - but spent. From the time in the airport garage to the knocked over lampshades in the room and everything in between, they had both managed to find themselves on the king bed he had noted to her before, an exhale finally falling from his lips.
"...need me to get you anything? Some water? A towel if you want to shower?" He chuckled, bringing her slender frame into his for a moment, practically making himself de facto big spoon. "Gonna have myself a quick cig on the porch and we can get some breakfast, if ya want." He mumbled into her hair before getting up from the bed to find the pair of sweatpants that were ...somewhere around here.
He grabbed his box of menthols and stepped out onto the balcony, keeping the sliding door open just a crack to let some fresh air enter the room for a moment.
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Okay but heâd fuck you so hard when they lose the Super Bowl after you spends an hour gloating about the eagles handing their asses to them!
i saw this request and started giggling and kicking my feet omg. anon, i owe you my first born child. you are a GENIUS! (although, fair warning, i'm not great at writing smut. i hope this is okay <3) not proofread
cw: unprotected p in v, rough sex, mean rafe, slapping, degradation
Football tended to be a touchy subject between you and Rafe. Where you were a diehard Eagles fan, he wouldn't be caught dead rooting for them. After the Chiefs narrowly beat out the Eagles in the 2023 Super Bowl, Rafe wouldn't shut up for weeks about how "trash" the Eagles were. It drove you absolutely insane.
That's why, when the Eagles absolutely kicked ass this Super Bowl in a rematch against the Chiefs, beating them out at a whopping 40-22, you thought it was your well-deserved right to rub it in Rafe's face, much to his dismay.
One thing about Rafe is that gloating is only okay when he does itâmuch like a lot of other things (he's a very hypocritical guy), hence his growing anger when you wouldn't stop talking about how the Chiefs absolutely threw the game with all their fumbles, making jokes the whole time about how it seemed like they weren't even playing.
Another thing about Rafe? He tended to get violent when he was angry. With other people, this meant he'd kick their asses, but with you, it meant you were in for a long night of rough fucking to make him feel better and put you in your place for your "bratty attitude."
Though, if you tried to point out the hypocrisy with him finding your actions annoying when he had done the exact same two years prior, he would only get more annoyed and very, very defensive.
You'd learned at a very early stage in your relationship that some battles were not worth fighting with Rafe, and besides, you kind of liked it when he was all rough with you, manhandling and degrading you deliciously.
"Not so mouthy now, huh?" He taunted, pounding into you from behind. Each thrust pushed you forward a little bit, your face burying further into the pillows as you moaned. A sharp slap to your ass had you gasping, the pain sending a jolt of pleasure to your core that had you practically gushing around Rafe's thick length. You didn't know how long you'd been going at this with him, but he hadn't let you cum, nor had he let up the brutal pace.
"Look at you," he sneered. "Can't even think of anything to say back to me, huh? Thought you were gonna gloat all night about how the Eagles won." His words were cruel and biting, revealing the depth of his anger, which wasn't about the football game. It was more so about being challenged, his ego hurt after talking such a big game about how the Chiefs were going to dominate.
You couldn't form a coherent sentence. Your brain turned to mush as the only thing you could focus on were his rough hands on you and his length stretching your velvety walls. You could practically feel each ridge and vein of his cock as it slid back and forth, his tip nudging your cervix roughly with each pass.
"What happened to that smart mouth, huh?" He mocked. "Your dumb little brain's too desperate for cock, huh, bunny," he cooed, his tone patronizing as he continued to pound into you with rough strokes, making your back arch and eyes roll back.
He was so mean, but you loved it.
He was right. You couldn't respond to him anymore. You had lost your ability to form a single word, dumbed down to a mess of please sounds as he hit that sweet spot inside of you so perfectly. He took that as a victory, seeing it as proof that you knew your place. He loved it when you whimpered underneath him, completely at his mercy. "Look who's behaving now. You're lucky you're so pretty, honey," he continued, enjoying this little game of his. "Otherwise, I wouldn't put up with such a bratty mouth."
"Fuuuuuck," he groaned, giving your ass another sharp smack before his hands found your hips again, his grip bordering on painful. "And this fuckin' love this pussy. Fuckin' perfect, baby."
He was getting close. You could tell by the way his pace started to falter, and his words switched from degrading to praising. One hand slipped down to your clit, rubbing firm circles. Even when he was pissed, he still tried to make you cum first.
It didn't take much more effort on his part. Your thighs were already trembling, desperate for release from the moment he'd thrown you onto the bed and ripped your clothes off.
"You're gonna be a good girl now, huh? You're gonna stop being such a pain in the ass, aren't you?" He questioned, punctuating each question with a thrust. "No more running your mouth and riling me up, right?"
"Uh huh," you whined pathetically, needy and desperate to cum.
He knew he had you right where he wanted you, all pliant and begging. "Yeah, you gonna stop talking back, huh? You can be a good little bunny for me, can't you?" He cooed, his words sounding a little bit less harsh. He was enjoying having you like this, completely at his mercy.
All you could muster was a weak nod, your fingers gripping the sheets and mouth parted in ecstacy as you reached your peak, blinding pleasure overtaking your body as your walls clamped down around his cock.
"That's it, baby, just like that," he groaned, pumping a few more times before pushing deep inside you and releasing spurts of hot, sticky cum into your eager cunt.
#đ#đŠč Ś đ đ sol writes .á#đ
àৠsol &&. anon ïŒ#soleil's asks <3#answered !#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x fem!reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe#rafe x reader#rafe x fem!reader#rafe x female reader#rafe smut#outer banks#outer banks smut#obx#obx smut#obx rafe cameron#rafe obx#eagles#kc chiefs#chiefs vs eagles#super bowl
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"Why would I show my daughters Snow White when Anna and Elsa exist?"
Because girls need to see more than one type of female character in their stories. We don't want girls to see "damsel-in-distress housekeeper" as their only option, but its equally dangerous to show them the currently-popular flavor of "take-charge Strong Female Character" as the only acceptable kind of woman to be.
Because Snow White is confident. While the Queen is obsessing over her own insecurities, Snow White is going through her day completely comfortable with who she is.
Because Snow White is skilled. While the Queen's treatment of her is unjust, Snow White's acceptance of her work as a scullery maid makes her, not just an idle princess, but a working woman. She has cleaning and cooking skills that are recognized as valuable contributions to society. She is then able to use those skills when she needs a place to stay--instead of just a helpless damsel-in-distress who has to beg for a place, she is someone they want to have living with them because she has valuable skills to offer.
Because Snow White is kind. She is so kind that animals immediately trust her, that a hardened assassin can't kill her, that dwarves love her. She is sensitive to the feelings of others rather than embittered by her own fears. She is friendly to everyone she meets, showing interest in their lives and concern for their problems.
Because Snow White is a caretaker. Though young and mistreated, she is always looking to care for others. She immediately comforts a lost little bird. When she finds a cottage belonging to what she believes to be lonely orphans, she takes it upon herself to make their home comfortable. She even takes this a bit too far in setting rules for the dwarves' household, which offers depth to her character. She does take charge, but instead of seizing power like the Queen, Snow is looking to serve others and seeks their good.
Because Snow White is brave. After her panicked flight through the forest, she is sharp enough to recognize that her fear made the situation worse than reality, and she consciously decides to adopt a cheerful, hopeful outlook.
Because Snow White is intelligent. She's a good-enough judge of character to recognize a worthy love interest when he appears (and unlike certain princesses, she's right about it). She recognizes when her fear makes things worse than they are and is able to make better plans for the future. She is able to coordinate a housecleaning effort among a huge variety of untrained forest animals.
Because Snow White is humble. She is willing to take on the humblest work in the castle and is not humiliated by it. She asks the animals and the dwarves for help when she needs it. She even recognizes the need for prayer.
Because Snow White is good.
Because she is innocent.
Because she is patient.
Because she is loving.
Because little girls should learn to be all those things, and Snow White is a character who shows them what that looks like.
#snow white and the seven dwarfs#disney#snow white#how's that for a snow white rant?#the opening line was a comment by a listener to the podcast#and it just seemed to be a good misconception to bounce every one of my frustrations off of#i even listened to a different podcast take on snow white and their takes were just as wrong
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ahaha. fuck. i âšwill not be processing this wellâš
#uhm. we think my last therapist may have been. a little bit of a freak#iâm glad. he showed his ass as early as he did.#ultimately.#because i was there for. csa reasons.#and we never got to talking about thatâŠin depth really#before he honed in on an entirely different problem and started behaving strangely#uhm. and that kind of. makes me feel sick. yknow.#which is cool because i just lost a trauma therapist yknow LMAO#i know that just throwing my hands up and saying i give up on therapy is a bad call#but. like itâs. hard. and i just might for now#i donât have the time to find another trauma therapist right now#like i just fucking do not#so. for now maybe. iâll just keep it inside lolz.#and talk to the school counselor. but sheâs not a trauma therapist#and i need one of those#but.#anyway itâs real fucking hard out here
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i think i ran out of tags
copy pasting this from tag format i'm sorry this is a mess !!! shgdfvhsa
#i looove all the details of intimacy!!! knowing his fave movies and the books on his shelf. finding out his favourite food.
#how he rubs lotion onto your hands :(( & it ties in with his comment earlier :(( and just !! How all the care feels like it shouldnât belong with the two of your together but it does and itâs calming and comforting and :(( the healing!! your hands no longer cracking. what that means!!Â
#HE HOLDS UR HAND FOR THE SAKE OF HOLDING IT :((
#him choosing the colour of your eyes too :(( sdjhbfsj i looove the silent care they have for eachother. how not asking feels like that. how they protect eachother :(( im so sad 'i should have died that day i would have been more useful as legend' UUGH SO GOOD
#how he separates himself from it like a god oh thats so good that entire scene aches oh my god???? SO GOOD
#i love that beach scene i love the dialogue in this entire thing its just so raw and tender and SO MUCH in the unsaid
#the cogs in my brain are always turning when i read your stuff op and i love how there are a lot of things left to interpretation idk i have NO IDEA if how i'm reading it is correct but i love it bc it allows me to dig deep and try to figure that out!!
"you're so pretty, sometimes it makes me miserable" GODDDD how can he say that oh my GOD and and and how he tells you he'll do all the things you want to :(( 'i don't want my pieces i want yours' :(((
WAAAAH i love this so much. THAT ENDING!! GOSH. the way they see eachother :(( IM SAWBING this was so good thank you so much op, you're fantastic amazing wonderful everything!!!! as always!!!!!

ariadne's thread (3,839 words) Rating : Mature Gojo Satoru/Reader Tags : Fix-It, Jujutsu Kaisen Manga Spoilers, Major Manga Spoilers, Hurt/Comfort, Are You Gojo Satoru Because You're the Strongest, Or Are You the Strongest Because You're Gojo Satoru, Reader Has a Cursed Technique (Jujutsu Kaisen), Reader is JADED, Clingy Gojo Satoru, Mythology as a Motif, Vanilla Sex
Summary: He loses himself. He finds you, instead.
Read on AO3
#oh my god one of my fave gojo writers ever dhfbsad so good#pls read this#jjk#satoru#i loooove the read on gojo always; how op writes him with so much depth and character and just IT'S ALWAYS SO GOOD#everything feels so painfully accurate like gojo believing religion is more fallacy than faith. that opening paragraph:#i'm not a fan of ghost stories / too bad he is one <- UUUUGH I LOVE THAT#i also absolutely love the creativity put into the cursed technique of the reader it's so cool#there's also always this air abt op's fics that feel simultaneously comforting yet unsettling IDK HOW TO DESCRIBE IT it's like warm black#gojo showing up so persistently on reader's door is SUCH a him thing to do hsdfb + the dialogue?? AMAZING SBDFJ it's so in character#he's so insufferable i want to strangle him AHJSFB#i loooove the exploration of his cursed energy; how it trembles shifting in and out of reality sbdfjs#and that bit. 'i only have half a soul' / 'maybe i lost it a long time ago' HOW HE SAYS IT WITH A SHRUG wow. i love that.#gojo having a strange respect for time too. i love that little detail; and generosity being a habit left from his boy-prince upbringing#i love love love the way you write op because you're able to write in so many details about a character so intimately!!! but they all#contribute to the bigger picture; they all speak of history and how it plays into who they are now idkidk it's just. such a way with words#i think gojo withholds a lot of things and the more he talks about something the less it matters to him.#i love descriptions in this; how the healing sessions parallel to how he's feeling idkidkidk!!! i can't even describe it properly#GOJO SATORU PAIN IN MY ASS DAMN RIGHTBSDBFJA I LOVE THAT#omg. and just. gojo being his petty ass not contacting you for three weeks sdshj there is SOOOO much intensity within him GOD#everything about this is so so so interesting bc of the condition/state he was left in after the fight#and the consequences of that + when it gets too much it's soooo. wow. op your brain is >>>>#'You realize youâre not just a comfort for Gojo. Youâve been keeping him alive.' and the scene after oh my god#:(( take me with you next time :(( only if you pay me overtime :(( CLENCHING MY HEART RN#and he keeps you with him after. ooh my god. i loove that :( how the day just drags on and you never leave and it just repeats#op you are soooo good at writing scenes like this and i adore it so so much :(( the words and sentences are simple but they hit so much#i love that being with him kinda just happens and you grow comfortable to it and you have to touch him a lot bc of ur CT but#that becomes something natural too :(( and when hE RECIPROCATES AND EVERYTHING STARST ESCALATING OOOHH I AM#and that kiss omfghsbdg HE'S INSUFFERABLE I STG im gonna strangle him#what is the point of talent without enjoyment? <- wow
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i give an unending dream to you
men who can't fathom a future without you - so they refuse to let it happen ft. sae itoshi, sunday, malleus draconia
this is from @saetiate's post that she was kind enough to let me write a piece based off of
notes: yandere vibes (i'm back to my roots), fem reader, mildly unhealthy relationships, heavy possessiveness on the boys end, title is from this please listen to it and i'll give you ten thousand kisses
àŒ sae:
âitâs like iâm fucking talking to a brick wall. the same shit keeps happening and it feels like youâre not trying at all,â you spit out with vitriol, slamming the cabinet shut in the kitchen as the wood splinters beneath your force.
if sae is even hearing you, he shows no signs of it. the entire time youâve been screaming at him, throwing things, making accusations - heâs just been sitting atop one of the chairs at the island. his demeanor seems rather bored, if anything. you almost wish heâd fight back just so you know your words are reaching him in some way.
itâs only once tears of frustration begin to well in your eyes that he finally sighs and has the gall to ask, âare you finished?â
the sheer audacity of the question causes your tears to fall with anger, spiking your temper once more. youâre half a second away from cursing him out again but you know itâll get you nowhere. instead, you clench your fists and huff before grabbing your car keys and silently making your way to the front door.
sometimes you forget just how fast sae is, because itâs as if he teleports in front of the door. he stares down at you with what seems to be indifference, but you know him well enough to sense the quiet fury behind his eyes - waiting to break free from its confines.
âyouâre not going anywhere,â he tells you with no room to argue, his fingers wrapping around your wrist. ânot until your little temper tantrum is sorted.â
even though you try to tug away from him, itâs clear heâs not letting this go. sae is both the unstoppable force and the immovable object in everything he does.Â
he brushes his lips against your ear for a brief moment before kissing beneath it. his voice is nearly a whisper when he speaks, âif youâre done being a brat, iâd like to at least get a word in before you leave and do something stupid.â
you narrow your eyes at him and scoff. well, at least heâs finally acknowledging you. âand if i hear you out, then can i leave?â his lips twitch in amusement.Â
ânot a chance.â
àŒ sunday:
the parlor car is eerily silent, the rest of the express having sensed the incoming argument and opted to retreat to their rooms. sundayâs wings are twitching anxiously as he hovers close enough for you to be in his reach but not enough that youâll freak out on him again.Â
âmy dove,â he says in that soothing voice of his, âdonât you feel youâre overreacting just a bit?âÂ
you want to crush his windpipe for even suggesting it, but something seeps into your brain as his words wrap around the depths of your psyche. it tells you to relax, let yourself be held in your lover's embrace once more. itâs peaceful, calming, alluring in its desire for you to submit yourself into what you know so well.
itâs not your voice at all.
âi shouldâve known a control freak like you would try some shit like this,â you manage to get out through gritted teeth. forgive him, he loves you so dearly, echoes in your mind. the words nearly spill from your lips if not for you putting all your willpower into keeping your lips shut.
his expression goes from concern to disapproval in an instant. the sudden invasion of your personal space as he makes his way over isnât lost on you. itâs his pattern - guilt, control, smother.Â
âit seems iâve underestimated you, my little rebel,â he muses, bringing your hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. âdenying the harmonyâs influence so easily -Â it seems youâve gotten strong without mentioning it to me.â
the implication of his words is clear ; if you can escape his honeyed words, what else will you do to slip from his grasp?
âno matter. you could do with some more training, wouldnât you agree?â
àŒ malleus:
the library is dead silent as you flip through one of the beginners magic textbooks crewel had given you. not that itâs odd for a library to be quiet, but the reason itâs more empty than usual is a rather odd occurrence. âcan you linger a bit less menacingly?â you murmur in an irritated tone.Â
malleus simply blinks owlishly at your request from the other side of the table. youâre used to him following you around out of sheer interest for your âhuman tendenciesâ (his words, not yours), but you underestimated how annoying it would be when youâre in the middle of a disagreement.Â
after a few more moments you slam the book shut with a huff, fully aware youâre not going to get any meaningful studying done with him staring you down in your peripherals. when you stand from the seat he echoes your movements. the students part and scamper away from his path as he follows behind like your shadow.
thereâs honestly a good chance youâd be less angry with him if he just gave you some space like you desired, but heâd rather have his horns ripped from his skull than leave you alone for more than thirty seconds.
âhave you found it within your heart to forgive me yet, beloved?â he asks calmly, as if itâs somehow your fault that youâre even upset to begin with.Â
your head whips around in a flash, rage contorting the usually delicate features of your face. heâs either a bonafide manipulator or completely dense, and both of the options seem to piss you off equally at the moment.
âgive me a fucking break, malleus!â you yell, not missing the way his eye twitches from your lack of using his nickname. âi put up with a lot of your shit, but iâm seriously sick of you treating my friends like theyâre criminals-â
âspade does have a charge on his record, my love,â he counters smoothly, which does nothing to satiate your anger. you pull back when he tries to reach for you, but the swirling clouds beginning to form in the sky make you think twice.
âi care a great deal about your safety and wellbeing. itâd do no good for my future betrothed to be involved in something that endangers your reputation or, sevens forbid, your health.â
out of sheer pettiness, you mutter under your breath, âkeep acting like this and there wonât be a betrothed for you to marry.â
his self control snaps like a twig as lightning strikes the bench nearby, making you scream and instinctively leap towards him for protection. his arms quickly wrap around you like a python, trapping you against his body.
âthere will be a wedding, and you will soon see the error in your ways. i simply pray you one day come to understand that everything i do is out of my endless love for you,â he coos, but it feels more like a death sentence. whatever his âloveâ entails, youâre not sure if itâs something you want to stick around for.
not that heâd ever give you a choice.
#blue lock x reader#sae itoshi x reader#hsr x reader#sunday x reader#malleus draconia x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#bllk x reader#honkai star rail x reader#yandere#scenarios
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A Dance In The Dark

Joel Miller x f!Reader
Summary: Joel has always taken care of you. Always been your kind, attentive protector. And that doesnât change, even when you read a scene from a dark romance novel and discover your tastes may be a bit more sordid than you once thought. But even in this he wants to grant you your every wishâand when he offers to put on a mask and chase you through the woods, the opportunity is just too wicked to pass up.
Warnings: Explicit sexual content MDNI, feelings of embarrassment and shame, established relationship, Joel ties readers hands with his belt, knife play, BDSM undertones (primal play specifically), sexual aggression, degradation, fingering, p in v, hair pulling, shameless smut this is basically just pure filth
NOTE: this is a cowrite i did with joelmillersgirlfriend! we busted this out in less than two days because i was bound and determined to get this published on the best holiday of the year! please check out her stuff over on AO3 where we have several other cowrites because i love her đ©·
happy halloween my loves đ©·
Read on AO3!
MASTERLIST
You donât tell him right away. Donât tell him at all, really.Â
Joel discovers your peculiar fascination all on his own.
Heâs late coming home from work. His dinner sits on a plate in the microwave, leftovers packaged and put in the fridge for his lunch tomorrow. His lack of punctuality is nothing new, but youâve always been good at filling the time and finding a distraction while you wait for him.Â
On this particular night, youâve changed out of your clothes and into one of his T-shirts, nestled into a soft cocoon on his side of the bed, book in hand. The tea in your mug on your nightstand has gone tepid, too lost between the pages to consume anything but the content in a timely manner.Â
Youâd found it in the horror section, a book written by a name youâd never heard of, a story of a young womanâs abduction with overarching themes of perseverance and self-discovery. You find it a bit graphic from time to time, the details of her torment vivid and lifelike. But thatâs to be expected in a horror novel and doesnât surprise you.
The part that does surprise you, however, is the romantic undercurrent between the woman and her captor. He makes declarations of love, fully admitting his obsession with the young woman, claiming to want nothing from her but her own empowerment.
Itâs an even bigger surprise when you reach the halfway point and discover that your horror novel is also an erotica. And the text is well-written, pulling you into its depths, and you think it might be the craziest yet best book youâve ever read if for nothing else than the way it makes your heart race behind your ribcage.
âIs it that good?â
His voice startles you so badly the book falls from your hands and into your lap. âWhat?â
Joel laughs, a soft sound of amusement. âIâll take that as a yes,â he says, toeing off his shoes. He leans over the edge of the bed to press his lips to your forehead, and you find yourself swimming in the subtle affection.
And you know itâs because youâve been reading smut for the last three hours straight, but the feel of his lips against your skin is heavenly. You abandon the book, tucking the edge of the dust jacket inside the pages to mark your place and discarding it onto the nightstand. Itâs second nature as you twist your hands into the soft fabric of his flannel and pull him close.
He smells like pine and sawdust and sweat. His hands are rough and calloused as he cradles your face, lips turning upwards against yours. When you deepen the kiss, sliding your soft tongue against his, Joel laughs again, a little darker this time. He pulls away and the loss makes you whimper because you need him. And the bastard knows it. Because when his gaze roams over your face, lingering on your lips, thereâs a heavy undertone of lust behind the playfulness. âSâalright, sweet girl,â he says gently. âNone of that whininâ. Mâgonna take care of you like I always do. Just wanna know whatâs brought this on is all.â
Youâre not sure you can admit the truth to him. And even more than that, you donât have the words to explain that whatâs got you so worked up is a scene in your book where the main character is being chased through the woods, her captor wearing a Halloween mask, under the pretense that if he catches her, heâs going to fuck her. Your cheeks warm at just the idea of such an admission, so instead you say, âI just missed you is all.â
Joel doesnât believe it for a second. He knows you like the back of his hand and sees easily through the lie. And when he glances at your book on the nightstand twice, you know youâve been caught before he even says a word. âThought that was one of those scary books you like.â
âIt is,â you tell him. Because, technically, itâs the truth.
He narrows his eyes at you, that all-knowing smirk still plastered on his face. âYeah? Beinâ scaredâs whatâs got you all squirmy like this?â
As much as youâd like to deny it, to argue his assessment, Joel leans over a little further and his weight on top of you, heavy and sure and safe, makes your breath catch in your lungs. Warmth pools low in your belly and that low, husky tone in his voice only makes matters worse.Â
âThink whateverâs in that bookâs got you all worked up. Whatâs it about, baby? Hm?â Joel shoves the blanket out of the way and slides his hand between your body and his. You donât think youâll ever get used to the feeling of his hands on you, the contrast of his roughness against all your softest parts. Itâs like the first time every time, and you can feel the steady thump of your heart as it hammers behind your sternum.
Heat rises up your chest when his hand touches your favorite spot, already knowing what heâs going to say. Youâre drenched, the insides of your thighs slick with excitement. Joel breathes out a tell-tale hiss at the feeling, pulling back to glance down at you. Humor is suddenly nowhere to be found on his face, no smirks or teasing words. Just dark, hot lust, turning Joelâs eyes black.
âChrist,â Joel groans, continuing to explore between your legs.Â
You donât want to tell him what the bookâs about, and thankfully he seems to forget heâd asked the question as his long fingers find their place, curling inside of you.Â
Joel keeps his promise. He takes care of the ache for you like he always does. He makes you finish on his fingers and his tongue and when he finally sinks deep inside you it feels like relief. You warm up leftovers for him afterward, and he doesnât pressure you about talking about your book. Instead, he tells you about his day while the two of you sit at the kitchen table and the light of his love fills you from the inside out.
You finish the book in less than two days, but its content lives in your head for far longer.Â
Showering, cooking, running errands - you find yourself thinking about that scene in the woods so often you begin to wonder if itâs altered your brain chemistry.
That weekend you go out for drinks with a couple of girlfriends, letting Joel know youâll likely be late coming home. He makes you promise to call him if you need a ride and says heâs going to invite Tommy over to watch the game.
Itâs nothing out of the ordinary. Joelâs little brother practically lived with the two of you until Maria stepped into the picture, and you pinky swear to call if you need him.
You donât, though. You spend more time gossiping and laughing and catching up than you do drinking. But itâs dark when you pull into the driveway, and though you donât see Tommyâs truck you assume Joel might have picked him up and you fully expect to see him standing in your kitchen with a hand in the fridge grabbing another beer.Â
Tommyâs nowhere to be found, though. And thereâs no referee calling shots on the flat screen. Thereâs no sound at all, in fact. At first, it alarms you. But then you see Joel sprawled out on the couch in sweatpants and a navy blue t-shirt with a book in his hand.
He glances up from the pages only long enough to smile up at you and say, âHey, sweetheart. Have a good time?â
You hesitate, watching him from where you stand at the doorway. Joel read occasionally, but only if he needed to. If he wanted to learn a new song on guitar, if he had taken on a new car project and had to teach himself how to repair it. He didnât read for luxury.
âYeah, it was nice. What about you? Whereâs Tommy?â you questioned, tiptoeing over to where Joel was spread out. The book was positioned in a way that didnât allow you to see its cover, but it most definitely wasnât one of Joelâs manuals.Â
Joel turned to grin at you, his eyes scanning your body, stopping to look at the frown on your lips.Â
âHe canceled, ditched me to hang out with Maria,â he huffed, rolling his eyes. Your frown deepened as you moved closer to Joel, still eyeing the book in his hand that was conveniently covered by his large palms.Â
âWhy didnât you tell me? I wouldâve come back sooner,â you said, reaching down to run your palm through his gray-streaked hair. You had convinced him to stop touching up his roots, some sick part of you loving how mature he looked.Â
âI didnât wanna interrupt. âSides, I wanted to see what got you all worked up the other night,â Joel explained casually, finally exposing the book he was holding. All of the colors left your face as you processed what was happening, that he was more than halfway done with the story. Joel was well into reading the disturbing erotica, but somehow still hadnât put it down.Â
âThis is some dark stuff. Youâre telling me that this is what had you drippinâ? Had you clenched around me, legs shaking?â Joel asked, breaking heavy eye contact with you to go back to reading.
âCome on, Joel. Give it back,â you whined, reaching down to pull it out of his hands. The word embarrassed didnât cover how you truly felt. Mortified was a better fit.
He wrestled around in your hold, turning his back to you and shielding the book with his body. âNot yet, Iâm just about to reach the good part. I wanna know what happens when he catches her.â
Maybe not mortified. You were fucking humiliated. Tears threatened to spill as you reached down, pawing at Joelâs arms to grab the book. âStop it. Itâs just a stupid fantasy, I know itâs dumb.â
Joel glanced back to see the wetness filling your eyes, instantly releasing his grip so you could take the book back. His large palm reached up to cradle your face, to comfort you.
âHey now, I never said it was dumb. I didnât mean to upset you. I guess I never really knew you were into that kind of stuff. Nothingâs wrong with it.â
His words are sincere and make you feel a little bit better, but you still feel ashamed that Joel had read the book. You know heâd never judge you, but it feels like your closest kept secret has been thrust into the light without your permission. Warmth spreads over your face, down your neck, twisting your stomach into knots. âI know but IâŠI just didnât expect you to read it.â
âThen I wonât,â he says quickly, pushing himself up off the couch. He places a warm hand on the side of your neck and says again, âI wonât. I promise. No tears baby, alright?â
You nod and sniffle, trusting him, knowing that his words hold sincerity. Exhaling a long breath, you try to shove the mortification away and focus instead on this man before you who loves you enough to learn everything about you, even the things best kept hidden.Â
Joel gives you the book and you shove it in the back of your side of the closet, hidden beneath a shoe box. He helps you out of your dress and showers with you, washing your hair while you tell him all about girlsâ night and the newest gossip.
After, when youâre both cozy in bed, wrapped up tight in his strong arms, stealing his warmth with your cold feet against his legs, you think maybe you mightâve overreacted about the book. You know Joel would never judge you, not even about this. You think maybe the embarrassment comes from somewhere within, that maybe itâs more like insecurity than shame. And so you say, âIâm sorry about earlier. You can finish the story if you want.â
Joel presses a kiss into your hair. âNot really my type of book, anyhow.â
Even though he says it mostly to comfort you, the words make you laugh. You bury your face into the crook of his neck and can feel the vibration of his amusement as he shares the moment with you.
And when you both settle enough to speak again, his voice is a little quieter as he asks, âYou want me to do that to you?â
This time you fight your shame. Wrap it up tight and store it away for something else, something more worthy than a peculiar taste. You think about yourself in place of the main character, running between thick tree trunks with dead leaves crunching beneath your feet.Â
You think of Joel in place of the womanâs captor, mask over his face, presence dark and looming as he seeks you out. A shiver runs down your spine, so sharp and demanding that your body trembles in his hold.Â
âSâokay if you do,â he murmurs. You can feel each word through his chest, a delicious tremor against your suddenly too-hot skin. Joel lifts his hand and brushes your hair gently away from your face, thumb tracing the outline of your lips. âKnow it did somethinâ to you. Turned you real greedy the other day. Hm?â
Arousal pools low in your belly, and you can hear your heart in your ears. You think he could convince you to do anything when he talks like that, voice low and gravelly. âMaybe,â you say. âI donât know.â
âRead another part,â he whispers. His thumb travels slowly down your chin, over the curve of your jaw, down the column of your throat. âHeâs got that switchblade in his hand. Touches her real nice, all sweet and loving. But he keeps that blade rightâŠâ Joel drags his index finger slowly across your neck. â Here .â
The sound that escapes you is more than need, itâs something else entirely; more like desperation. You didnât think it was possible to want him any more than you already do but this Joel who strikes just the right amount of fear in you? He makes your mouth water, makes you tremble and shake with just the caress of a single touch.
He grips the back of your thigh with his free hand, pulling you close, pressing you tight against the growing erection behind the cotton fabric of his boxers. Joelâs always been insatiable for you, sometimes getting worked up just from staring at you too long. But you begin to wonder if this is something he wants, too. âShould take you out someplace real nice,â he mutters. âGet all dressed up. You can wear that pretty pink sundress I like. Take you out to a nice dinner, treat you so fuckinâ goodâŠanâ when the sun sets, Iâd drive you someplace real dark. Let you loose.âÂ
Even though heâs barely touching you, thumb stroking the skin of your hip gently, your clit pulses between your legs, hips shifting against him of their own accord. Your breath comes fast and labored and you think youâve never been this fucking wet beforeânever wanted him so bad . It feels like you canât think, canât breathe without it, without Joel .Â
âGive you a head start,â he continues. âLong enough for me to put a mask on. Wouldnât even let you see it âtil I catch youâŠAnâ I will catch you, sweet girlâŠbut youâd have no way of knowinâ who it was. Could be me. Could be anyone.â
The idea is filthy and disgusting but your body doesnât seem to mind. Your spine arches, breasts pressing up against his chest. Joel lays there stone still, holding you, letting you rut against him like a woman starved. â Please ,â is all you manage to choke out. He hardly acknowledges the word, but you can feel the smirk form on his lips against the shell of your ear.Â
âIâd fuck the good girl right out of you,â he says. âFuck you âtil youâre nothinâ but a dumb little slut.â
âJesusâ Joel .â He's degraded you before, but itâs never been like this, never felt like this. You reach between your bodies and palm his cock in your hand, and a dark laugh leaves him as he helps you.Â
In a few quick movements, he pulls himself out of his boxers, shoves your panties to the side, and sinks his cock inside of you, filling you so full it hurts . But you donât care, because thereâs nothing more you need than this, and thankfully he understands. Like he always does .Â
Joel fucks you right then and there, whispering filthy things all the while, and you think heâs always understood you. Maybe even more than youâre able to understand yourself. Older and wiser and graciousâalways giving you exactly what you need, exactly what you want.Â
Before you fall asleep that night, he kisses you softly and asks, âDo you want me to tell you before it happens? To warn you?â
Youâre not sure how to answer at first. Because the concept as a whole terrifies you; itâs new and foreign and dangerous. And you think you might need the warning to calm yourself enough to enjoy it.Â
But you trust Joel. More than anyone else in the world, you know heâll always keep you safe. You know heâd never do anything to hurt you.Â
And so, you pull the blankets tighter around your shoulders and say, âNo. I want it to be a surprise.â
That night, you dream about a man chasing you through darkness whose hands feel more familiar than your own. You think about it for the next week. Daydreaming at work, while youâre making dinner, while youâre driving to run errands. Itâs all you can think about, the only thing that fills the gaps of silence in your day-to-day life.Â
You wait. And wait. And wait .Â
Joel tells you Friday night that heâll have to work overtime this weekend to make up for a lost part shipment. Nothing new, nothing out of the ordinary. Saturday morning he encourages you to sleep in, kisses your forehead before he leaves, tells you he loves you. And despite no inclination from him, you have a feeling that today is the day.Â
When you wake up a little while later, the sun casts shadows through the blinds, and you notice that Joelâs placed that pink sundress on his side of the bed. Laid it out for you.Â
You shower and groom yourself, mentally preparing for the moment it finally happens. It has to be today. And if Joel is lucky and planned it out right, heâd find out that you opted out of wearing panties underneath the sundress. Heâd find you slick, shaved, aching in anticipation.Â
He notices your nervous excitement when he comes home from work, late and covered in sweat from a long day. Youâre practically bouncing on your heels, having spent the entire day filling the time, waiting for his arrival. The sun had already started to set in the distance - you probably only had about an hour left of the day.Â
Please, God, let it be today .
âSorry Iâm late, sweetheart. Had an electrician cancel last minute, left me scramblinâ to get the project covered. I didnât mean to keep you waiting,â he muttered into your lips as he greeted you. His arms wrapped around you, his body warm and hot against the thin fabric of your dress.
âThatâs okay,â you say. âEverything go to plan other than that?â
âSure did. Finally finished up that warehouse over on Cherry Street. Figured Iâd go out and celebrate.â
You find yourself deflating at the words. Because, usually, Joel celebrating the end of a big project means the involvement of Tommy, too. And if Tommyâs there, then tonight is decidedly not the night.
Joel seems to notice the change in your demeanor. He places his hand on the side of your face and drags his thumb down your jutting bottom lip, releasing it with a wet pop . âWouldnât be a celebration unless I had a pretty little girl to buy a drink, now would it?â
Either way, even if itâs not tonight, you know youâll enjoy the time with him like you always do. So you shelve your disappointment and timidly ask, âWill it beâŠjust the two of us? Did you want to invite anyone else?â
He shakes his head, a playful spark glinting in his warm eyes. âNah. Just wanna take my baby out. Give me a minute to change and weâll head out. Sound good?â
You know your nod of approval probably looks too hopeful, too excited, but you canât find it in yourself to care. Not with this golden excitement fills you to the brim, the anticipation making your hands tingle.Â
It only takes Joel ten minutes to change out of his work clothes and into a nice pair of jeans and a flannel, but it feels like forever. He asks you about your day while he drives to your favorite restaurant, and listens intently even though you have nothing interesting to say other than the fact that youâve changed the curtain on the window above the dining room table.
He opens the car door for you and holds your hand as he directs you through the crowd at the restaurant, and orders for you when the waiter comes over. Even though you get the same thing every time, the gesture makes you feel small and safe and cared for.
You drink a glass of wine, and he tries out some sort of hoppy beer. Joel tells you about a song he heard on the radio that he wants to learn on guitar, but while you try to listen all you can think about is what comes after this.
A million thoughts run rampant through your head. He hasnât said anything about it, hasnât given you any hints besides laying the sundress out for you, but the rush of it all weighs heavy on your chest. Paired with the lowered inhibitions from the wine and you interrupt him to say, âJoel. Can you justâŠcan you tell me? I changed my mind. I want to know so bad.â
That playfulness returns to his eyes. He tilts his head the smallest bit and leans over the table to hear your whispered words. âTell you what?â
âYou know ,â you insist. âDonât make me say it here.â Despite the embarrassment that climbs your cheeks as you listen to the chatter around you, you canât wipe the grin from your face. You try to hide it behind your hand instead.Â
âCanât say I know what youâre gettinâ at here, girl,â he says. But that knowing smirk says otherwise. You can see the challenge in his eyes, the push for you to ask the question youâve been swallowing down all night.Â
Folding your arms on the edge of the table, you lean in as close as you can and ask so softly, âAre you taking me to the woods tonight?â
He smilesâa big, toothy show of enjoyment, and leans back in the booth. Joelâs big, youâve always known itâŠbut seeing him now, shoulders broad and rugged, arms straining beneath the cotton sleeves of his flannelâŠÂ God , he makes you weak. You can feel yourself flush beneath his scrutinization. Can feel the familiar stickiness of your arousal begin to gather between your legs, too. âAnâ why would I do that, sweetheart? Ainât nothinâ out there for a little thing like you.â
The wine is sweet on your tongue as you take the last sip and shrug casually, pretending as if your hands donât tremble with anticipation. You try to put on a show of confidence. âNever know,â you say. âCould be a big, bad wolf out there that needs hunting down.â
Joel laughs at that, but heâs waving down the next waiter he sees for the check.
When you leave the restaurant, you realize now the sun has fully set and the darkness has descended. The moon hands high in the sky, the only illumination granted apart from the headlight of Joelâs truck. He helps you into the passenger side and buckles you in, hands gentle and caring, always taking care of you.Â
Pressing a kiss to your shoulder, he asks a single-word question. One you know is likely equally for his comfort as it is yours. âOkay?â
You are. Despite the fear that begins to rise in your chest, knowing the impending events likely to unfold, despite the shadows and the traversing of the unknown, you know that youâll always be safe with Joel. âIâm good,â you promise.
He drives for far longer than you expect. Past every stoplight, outside of the city limits, weaving through the backroads until youâre well and truly lost. Every time you pass a wooded area you think heâll slow to a stop, but he doesnât. And every moment fuels the adrenaline coursing through you, ratcheting both your panic and excitement to immeasurable heights.
When he does finally stop, pulling off to the side of a road you swear youâve never been down before, your heart is beating so fast you can hear it in your ears.Â
He pulls the key from the ignition and the lights cut out, wrapping the both of you in complete darkness. You can make him out just enough, though. Enough to see the predatory look on his face, enough to sense the danger youâve placed yourself in.
Your mouth goes dry and your brain goes fuzzy as you watch Joel reach into his pants pocket, pulling out a switchblade that glimmers in the moonlight. The small knife makes a snapping noise when it opens, gleaming, taunting you. Excitement buzzed through your body, a nagging voice in the back of your head screaming to run.Â
âBetter get a move on,â Joel whispers, his face shadowed and lips pressed into a grim line. The energy had shifted so quickly that you were uncertain what to do. Even if you did try to run, you doubted that your shaking body would make it very far.Â
A brooding intensity surrounded Joel, and even though he barely moved to reach back and grab something out of the back seat, the air still felt tense with a silent warning. In his free hand was a gas mask, worn and frayed. The round, glass eye lenses were clouded, displaying its years of disuse. He reached up with one hand to slip the mask down his face, leaving only his eyes revealed.
The white-hot heat that was burning through your veins somehow ignited even further when he finally locked eyes with you. Joelâs eyes were narrowed, carrying a different energy behind them; one that was full of mischief and lust. The moment lasted for a couple of beatsâŠ
One, two, threeâŠ
And then Joelâs hand snapped out, reaching rapidly to lock around your wrist. Thinking, breathing; none of it mattered. The only thing on your mind was running, some animalistic survival instinct that you didnât know still existed within you taking over. Your wrist easily slipped out of his grip as you flung open the car door, escaping Joel and running into the dark forest.
There was a chill in the air that made your breath fan out in front of you while you ran, your heavy footsteps practically echoing through the woods. Every couple of moments you would stop and glance around, attempting to see through the endless rows of trees. You didnât see anything and only heard the sound of your own breathing.
Joel could be scary when he wanted to. Like that one time, a couple weeks into knowing him. Some asshole had followed you around the grocery store late one evening, trailing behind aisle after aisle until your hands were shaking in fear. Joel was one of the only people you had befriended in town since you were new to the area.Â
Heâd showed up five minutes after youâd called him, despite the fact that you knew he lived over ten minutes away. Joel approached the man, and you were grateful that you werenât the one he was speaking to. Despite not hearing his words from where you were standing, you could see the dark anger on his face, a look that made your blood run cold.Â
The guy who was following you left immediately after, scurrying off with his tail between his legs. Joel followed you home in his truck even though your apartment was on the other side of town. Heâd never been scary to you .
Until now.Â
Joelâs body came out of nowhere, grabbing you and yanking you against him. The switchblade pressed onto your throat, your heartbeat pounding against the cold metal. You couldnât see Joel since his vice-grip had your back pushed on his chest.Â
âYou call that running?â he asked, letting his fingers skate down the skin of your thigh, just under the low cut of your sundress. His calloused fingertips caught against your soft skin, raising higher and higher.
âI think you wanted me to catch you. Here you are, lettinâ me rub on you like the little slut I knew you were. I havenât even properly touched you yet, but youâre already spreading your legs for me.â
Your face warmed at his degrading words. He was right. The excitement of the story wasnât only the anticipation, but it was the thrill of the hunt. As much as you wanted Joel to touch you, to make your vision blur just from using his fingers, you knew you couldnât give in so easily.Â
With all of your strength, you push away both of his hands, ripping out of his grip. He reached down to grab you but you snatched his shirt instead, pulling at it fiercely in an attempt to dodge under him. You heard the fabric rip, but you were too afraid to really acknowledge it.Â
You took it as an opportunity to escape, dodging Joelâs grasp. You wasted no time in steadying yourself before sprinting away, only sparing a quick glance back to see Joel. His shirt was half ripped, the gas mask blocking any form of expression on his face.Â
âDamn, baby,â Joel spoke. He stood, shrugging off his flannel before using the switchblade to finish ripping the fabric of his shirt. âIf you wanted me to get naked, you shouldâve just said so.â
As much as you wanted to watch the way Joelâs chest flexed in the moonlight, you couldnât handle any distractions. You had to run.
And you did run for what felt like hours. By the time you stopped for a moment, your heartbeat was in your throat and you could feel a slick mess building between your thighs. Your legs were speckled with dirt and pieces of leaves from the way you were kneeling on the ground, searching for Joel.Â
You didnât see anything extraordinary through the branches of the forest, but you heard something. A snap.
It was enough to get you back on your feet in an attempt to flee.
You couldnât see him, but you could feel him. Though your eyes betrayed you, you could sense his closeness, could sense the space between you lessening with each passing moment. Sweat beads at your hairline and your panting echoes between the trees.
The cracking sound of wood beneath his heavy work boots cuts through the deafening silence, and you turn abruptly and throw yourself in the opposite direction. But Joelâs fast, too fast .Â
He catches up to you in a second, and you know you wonât get lucky twice, yet still you try. You push your legs as hard as you can, running as fast as you can, trying to navigate the uneven terrain.
Joelâs fingertips grasp your shoulder, and you pull away from him so violently you lose your balance, scraping your knees against the rough forest floor.
You quickly turn onto your back, kicking yourself away from him, trying to see through the thick fog of terror in your mind. His slow breaths sound mechanical through the gas maskâs respirator. He looms over you menacingly, looking every bit the wicked man you know he can be.
His shoulders rise and fall slowly, his breaths even while you struggle to catch yours. He tilts his head, a predator indulging in the chase.
And you know right then that youâve been caught. Stuck in the spiderâs web with no hope of extraction. Your voice shakes when you speak. âJoel?â
Thereâs no softness in him now. None of that gentle ease he always has with you. He lowers himself to the ground, knees on either side of your hips, and grabs for your hands.
You struggle against his hold, even knowing itâs useless. He wraps a calloused palm around your wrists and squeezes tight, and when you buck your hips up against him, trying to wiggle out from beneath his heavy weight, it serves no purpose but to further diminish the little energy remaining in your weary limbs.Â
Joel raises your arms above your head, pushing your too-sensitive skin deep into the earth, trapping you in place. You can hear the clicking of his tongue behind the mask. âStupid little girl,â he says. âNever had a chance. Did you?â
His voice is muffled, deeper. You know itâs Joel. Behind the fear, behind the adrenaline, you know itâs him. But it doesnât sound like him, not in the way youâre so accustomed to, and it sends a chill down your spine.
He adjusts his position, sliding down your legs just enough to grip the bottom of your dirt-stained sundress and rip it upwards. The air feels like ice against your center, slick with your arousal. You clit pulses with need, despite the way you still fight him, struggling nonsensically in his tight hold. âLook at how fuckinâ wet you are, baby,â he says. âHavenât even touched you yet anâ that pretty pussyâs just fuckinâ crying for it, ainât she?â
Your spine bends, arching off the ground. The sounds that leave your mouth are animalistic, a desperate whimpering, a wanton need.
And then suddenly his hand is tangled in your hair, pulling hard at the roots, holding your head up just enough to witness your exposure. âI said look ,â Joel grits out. âWant you to watch just how fuckinâ selfish she is. You listeninâ to me?â
âYesâ yes, â you choke out. The muscles in your neck strain to keep your head held high enough to see the moment he lets go of your hair. But you heard him loud and clear, and you do just as he says.
His hand slips between your legs, and you fight the urge to let squeeze your eyes shut as his fingers slide over your clit. He circles it roughly and you can feel yourself clench around nothing, your body begging to be filled, begging for Joel . He uses the perfect amount of pressure, deft fingers moving fast, and it takes less than a minute before that familiar warmth begins to trickle in.Â
But you want more, you always want more, and so you find yourself lifting your hips upwards, trying to shift his hand lower, trying to let him know right where you need him most.Â
Joel laughs. A sick, maniacal sound that sends a cold flood of terror through you. âSee? Whatâd I say? Fuckinâ greedy ,â he says. You know itâs meant to be an insult, but thereâs a strange fondness as he says it. An undertone of worship.
You sigh out his name, unable to form another word, forgetting all else that came before this moment, disregarding all things that may come after. All that matters is this, all that matters is him .Â
âShe wants it so bad,â he murmurs. âAnâ Iâm gonna give it to her.â His movements are cruel and almost painful as he turns you over, pulling your hips out from under him. Joel shifts your wrists to his other hand and sets them against the small of your back, using his free hand to force your head down. The earthy smell of decaying leaves greets you, and you greedily suck in cold breaths of air, trying to will your heart to slow its racing.Â
You canât see his movements but you can feel him shift behind you, and a second later can hear the familiar clink of his belt buckle and the swish as he rips it from the loops of his jeans. The bite of leather is harsh as he winds it around your wrists, tightening it in a familiar, practiced way.
âJoel,â you breathe out. It sounds like a plea in your ears, and maybe it is. Because everything is too much, too intense . You need all of him, you think. Need the wickedness, that dark thing heâs been hiding all this time. But you need your Joel, too. The one who buckles you in, who kisses your forehead before he leaves for work in the morning. The one you know will always keep you safe, even when he defiles you. â Joel ,â you say again.Â
His hands freeze on your hips, and you can feel the warmth radiating from his skin as he leans over and presses his cheek to yours. He waits for you to speak, giving you as long as you need to sort through the heightened emotions.Â
Your brain feels like mush and you struggle to form a coherent thought thatâs more than one or two words strung together. You know youâre terrified. But you know, too, that you donât want him to stop. And so all you manage to say is a barely audible, âI love you.â
He cradles your head in his hand, thumb stroking gently over your temple. And then he runs his nose over the curve of your jaw, and though he doesnât say it, doesnât break the spell heâs so carefully created in order to indulge your wildest fantasies, you know that no one has ever loved anyone the way that Joel Miller loves you.Â
But just as quickly as that gentleness appeared, it vanishes into nothing like the fog of your breath in the cold air.
âGonna show you what happens when little girls roam into the woods,â he says. You can feel his erection as he presses it against you, heavier and harder than you think itâs ever been before. âCan try anâ hunt down the big bad wolf all you want. But if he catches you âŠâ
Youâre a trembling mess in his strong hands. His words are the only beacon keeping you grounded, youâre certain of it.Â
The metal teeth of his zipper grate as he pulls it down and undoes the button of his jeans, pulling his cock out. He slides the head through your arousal, coating himself in your slick. âJust know, whatever he decides to do with you is gonna hurt .â
And then heâs pushing his length into you in one smooth movement, leaving you no time to adjust to the size of him. The stretch is painful and foreboding, every muscle in your body tensing up at the impact. â Fuckâ oh my God ââ
âCan pray all you want, but thereâs no one out here to save you,â he spits. Joel doesnât give you a single second to breathe before heâs rocking his hips into you, setting a punishing pace. You can feel his cock throb inside you, can feel that heâs enjoying this just as much as you are.Â
You grit your teeth against the pain of it, fingers flexing in his grip. â Joel âI canâtâ!â
âYes, you can, baby,â he says, voice low and echoing. âI know you can. So shut up and fuckinâ take it.â He leans over you, pressing the side of your face into the ground. You can taste moss and earth but with each thrust, the pain is quickly subsiding, replaced instead with a blinding pleasure.Â
That warmth builds again, coiling around your spine. Pressure builds quickly and you can feel yourself dripping around him, making a mess of the coarse hair above his cock. âJoelâ fuck .â
He reaches on hand around your hip, easily finding your clit and strumming it with swift, practiced movements. You clench around him and he lets out a deep groan in response. When he leans forward and tells you, âOpen your mouth,â you do so immediately, brain fuzzy and overstimulated, unwilling to do anything unless he tells you to.Â
Joel slides two of his fingers into your mouth and shoves them so far down you nearly choke. Itâs instinctual when you close your swollen lips around him and suck.Â
You can hear the smile in his words as he speaks. âThere you go,â he mutters. âTold you how this would go, didnât I? Told you what would happen. Nothinâ but a dumb little slut for me now, baby, hm? Yeah?âÂ
All you can do is nod, unable to form a single coherent thought. Your orgasm hits hard and fast, almost unexpected. It washes through you, electricity dancing beneath your prickling skin. Your moans reverberate through the trees, and youâre suddenly glad heâs driven you so far out so no one can hear you.Â
âOh, she likes that ,â Joel says, talking you through it, circling your clit and fucking into you a little harder. âLikes the way it feels to be all fullâa me, hm? Yeah, there you go. Gonna give this pretty pussy just what she needs.âÂ
His rhythm falters, staggering just the smallest bit. And while heâs just given you the best orgasm of your fucking life, thereâs something about this that makes you feel finally satisfied, full in a way youâve never been before.
The moment he bottoms out inside of you, Joel turns you on your back and pulls the mask off of his face. His cheeks are flushed and rosy, but thereâs a sense of completion in his eyes that youâre sure is mirrored in your own. He kisses your cheeks, your forehead, the bridge of your nose.Â
And all you can say is, âOh my God.â
Joel laughs. Itâs one of those full, good-natured belly laughs. Your favorite kind. âWell? Was I better than your book?â
You cover your face with your hands, muffling your giggles between your fingers. âMuch better.â
#joel miller#pearlessance#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#ao3 fanfic#joel tlou#joel the last of us#ao3 writer#joel miller fic#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfic#smut#halloween
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Familiar Stranger
Yandere! Caleb x Fem! Reader
TW: Yandere, Manipulation, Restraining
âIt'll be just like-â
â-old times,â you cut Caleb off and finished the sentence for him. You'd been hearing it for days at this point. Except your voice didn't have that same excitement at the expression. You were distant, angry as you spoke. And Caleb could see that. That once friendly smile, the one he wore to mask himself as the real Caleb, it vanished and his lips pressed into a thin line, eyes growing dark.
He'd done this little change multiple times over the course of days, shifting from a person you knew to one you didn't. Each time it chipped away at the joy you were feeling just to see him, only to reveal a hint of anger you'd been hiding, even from yourself. Anger because while you sat and mourned for over a year, he was aware that you were mourning someone still alive. He could have sated your pain earlier. He could've been there when you needed him. But he wasn't. And he still hasn't given a clear answer as to why.
Caleb kneeled in front of you while you sat on the couch, coming face to face with you and giving a smile that was tender. The mask was back on. But each time he slipped on the disguise, you grow less susceptible to it.
âWon't you be good for me and stay here until I get back, hm?â he asked, his voice soft, soothing, like he was trying to put you to sleep. As he spoke, he reached up and tousled your hair. A gesture that you always found endearing from him, one that took you back to a simpler time where it was just you and him against the world, âIt'll only be a couple hours.â
You slapped his hand away with your own. That mask of his was tricking you no longer. His sweet words said in Caleb's voice couldn't decipt you anymore. Your trust in him, the one standing before you, was all, but gone, âI can't stay here, Colonel.â
There was an aggressive strain on each word. A desire for him to hear each syllable full of distaste and disdain. A pressure that needed to be spilled, like a shaken can ready to explode. And the usage of his title? To put some distance between the two of you. As long as your lips called him Caleb, your heart would want it to be true. But you had to nip it in the bud, he was using it against you.
He sat back on his haunches. He was looking you over, his purple eyes seeming to peer into the depths of your soul and not just meet your gaze. And it was scary. Horrifying even. In the presence of the beast, you felt your mouth begin to go dry. But you didn't back down. You watched him force a smile that didn't meet his eyes, and laugh with an unnatural stiffness.
âYou can't even wait for me a little?â He said with a smirk, trying to shift the perspective, make you seem desperate for his affection. You didn't know if he was playing this ploy to trick you, or himself, âI don't have to go in today, ya know?â You felt the cold leather of his gloved fingertip tracing down your cheek, âIf you're acting this needy, I could just stay home with you,â
The word âhomeâ angered you even more. Sky Haven wasn't your home and it never would be as long as he was here. Your home was a pile of rubble and ash now, where you lost everything you loved. Including him.
You went to slap his hand away again, only to feel a strong weight against your arms. A familiar weight. One you'd felt before. Like you were being pressed under the mass of a planet. Caleb was restraining you with evol. Not even his full power, he could crush you into bits with it if he wanted to. It was just enough to hold you there, a pressure just slightly too strong for you. All you could do was glare at him.
âDon't,â he growled through his teeth. He let out a sigh, as if trying to calm himself before speaking again in a softer, still agitated tone, âDon't act like my touch disgusts you.â
A flicker of emotion crossed his eyes. A sorrowful one. One full of pain. The idea of you hating him being the only weakness he ever showed when he was like this. He pressed a hand on your cheek. Then another against your shoulder. That same hand trailed all over your body, touching you, squeezing you, even tickling you and trying to elicit a laugh. Like he wanted to force you into liking, and missing the way he touched you. You couldn't even flinch away from his hand, the force of his evol still being too strong against your arms.
âIt does,â you spat at him, making his expression visibly harden. But not like he was getting angry at you, but frustrated with himself, âYou disgust me, Caleb.â
He didn't reply for a while. Evol still holding you down, he sat there on his knees in front of you. His fingers twitching, lip quivering. You felt a pang in your chest as well, seeing him this way. When he was like this, he was who you knew. But all the lying and hurt he'd brought to you, you had to remember it. If not, you'd fall into that same cycle of forgiving him, just because it was him.
Caleb stood. His full height seeming to tower over you, casting a looming shadow across your features. Once more, he reached down to pat your head, this time with his right hand. He looked visibly dejected before pulling away with a sigh.
âA couple hours, okay?â He repeated. The few words made your heartbeat quicken. Just when you thought you'd made a breakthrough with him, realization hit you that he still viewed what he was doing as right even though he knew it was wrong.
He adjusted his uniform in the mirror, looking back at you with one more weak smile before walking to the door. The entire time you watched him watching him leaving, all you could think was that his silhouette was unfamiliar. Not the one you'd race to see when you saw him approaching through the window, but a stranger.
The door shut with a soft click. His evol eventually dissipated because of the distance, freeing you from your invisible restraints. You rushed towards that door with a bit of hope, not caring about what you were leaving behind, but knowing that you had to. Turning that knob, all that hope you had vanished at your fingertips. Of course, it was locked.
#love and deepspace#love and deep space#love and deepspace x reader#yandere love and deepspace#yandere#yandede x reader#yandere caleb#yandere caleb x reader#love and deepspace caleb#lads headcanons#lads caleb#lads caleb x reader#l&ds caleb#l&ds#tw yandere
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â°â†â dawnbreaker!zayne x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni | kinktober '24 (backlog)
tags : pwp (with some plot), kinda porn with feelings, ambiguous relationship, that one "dawnbreaker slipping into dr. zayne's life" theory, angst (butâŠsoft???), slight nipple play, needy/desperate sex, vaginal sex, creampie, breeding kink, praise, use of "my love". lmk if i missed any tags!
wc : 1.8k
an : YELLS OK im like two days late on this⊠but⊠BUT !!! a belated birthday gift for my beloveddddd @dawnbreakersgaze !!! <333
taglist : under the cut !! (SIGN UP HERE)
KINKTOBER MASTERLIST / KO-FI JAR / COMMISSIONS
The Zayne you know has not been the Zayne you know...
You don't fall in love with someone in the span of a few days.
It didn't work that wayâlove was a fickle emotion; complicated, unpredictable⊠Terrifying. To approach it meant silent steps. It meant biding your time, holding out your hand, moving forward little by littleâŠ
âŠIdeally.
But love was powerful.
Love did whatever it wanted.
Love could take you in like a storm while you were unprepared; love could crash through your windows and hold you hostage despite your attempts to be gentle with it.
Love could turn the tables.
And sometimes that was what it felt like to be with him.
You wouldn't fall in love with someone in the span of just a few daysâbut perhaps, this case was a special one.
Your eyes were soft, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek. Gentle caresses moved over his skin, and you could see the way he melted under your touch. His own eyes were wide, lips trembling. An inexplicable emotion stirred within the depths of his gaze⊠And it was always like this.
It was always like this when he looked at you.
As if he could never believe that you were real.
"Zayne," you murmured.
He would swallow thickly, and give the slightest of nods.
"Zayne."
The same name, the same face, the same voice. Yet this Zayne, lying on top of you, caging your body between his arms⊠he was not the same.
Not the same⊠yet similar, nonetheless. A reflection of the other, you would think. He barely spoke, yet he barely looked away from you. He felt more expressive of his thoughts, but all the same time adamant on keeping them hidden. And no matter how many times you'd seen him, he felt hesitant, unsure, guilty⊠yet so, so, so full of the very same love that the Zayne you knew would always give.
You'd lost track of how many times this had happened.
They were sporadic, at firstâmoments fleeting and spaced apart, where you had learned to separate your Zayne and the other Zayne through the smallest mannerisms you'd notice to be different.
You watched the man before you draw in a sharp breath as your hand trailed down his face and over his neck, his collarbone⊠Such visceral reactions. He looked weak before you; so⊠broken. Every time he showed himself to you, there was a tense, unspoken sense of longing that hung in the air.
He was not your Zayne.
But he would reach out all the same to mirror your actions, run the pads of his fingers through your hair and down the side of your face⊠and you would let him.
He was not your Zayne, but he wanted to be. And seeing you in front of him made him feel so fragile. That look in his eyes told you that he could shatter at any possible moment.
"âŠIt's okay."
Love was powerful, you thought.
He was not your Zayne, but he was still Zayne, after all.
You knew so little about him, but he was still Zayne. And if love was so powerfulâthen it could fix him, too. Couldn't it? Couldn't a little bit of gentleness⊠Couldn't a little bit of love⊠for him, as much as himâ
Couldn't that help?
"âŠMy loveâŠ"
Whenever he spoke, his words were short. It was hardly the matter-of-factness you were used to, hardly the witty quips and dry sarcasm that could parallel. This Zayne's words were short, his voice hoarse, and roughâas if speaking hurt him even more, as if speaking could drive him further into a puddle of guilt that he seemed to have dug himself into.
Your eyes closed.
"Zayne, it's okay," you murmured. "It's okay."
His touch grew bolder, dipping downwards, slowly pulling down the straps of your top, curling around the swell of your breasts.
Your breath hitched.
"Zayne."
He didn't speak again.
Instead, he leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. He didn't kiss you, almost felt as if he was holding his breathâ something small, and wet, fell upon your cheek.
Your eyes opened.
Can I have you?
He asked the question silently, stray tears rolling down his face as he looked at you. His hips pressed into yours, and the outline of his erection grinded against you.
Can I have you?
He didn't speak, but his eyes told you everything.
"Yes."
Just this once.
And the whine he let out brought a slight thrill through your body.
It didn't take long before his lips were all over you, kissing you, tasting you, claiming youâdown your chest to your abdomen, inhaling the scent of your skin, before proceeding to trail wet, open-mouthed kisses back upwards. All the while, his hands remained steady on either side of your body, both a sure sign of his hesitance as much as the hunger within him that had him trembling above you.
When his eyes met yours once more, he has his mouth hovering over your nipple. Slowly, slowly, he wrapped his lips around itâit was so tender, the way he sucked on it, loving, the way his tongue would swirl as he took as much of your flesh as he could. Heavy breathing mixed in with the sloppy noises of his ministrations, and you were arching into him, begging him, encouraging him.
One more pull at your nipple until it slipped away from his lips with a wet pop, trails of saliva connecting to your bud.
"Pre...ttyâŠ" he rasped.
You felt your heart soar; for the first time, he seemed happy.
And this time it was you who didn't speak.
You reached for his hand, leaving his balance to rest momentarily on the other as you trailed it down your body. Further, and further, and further⊠His hand rest over your mound, gentle petting movements gliding a finger over your folds.
"MmmâŠ"
As usual, even the softest touch had you melting.
Zayne had always been loving , and tender, and sweet with youâŠ
This Zayne was not your Zayne, but even the careful way he treated your body felt very much like it.
He was not your Zayne. But he was still Zayne.
A mantra you would repeat to yourself.
His movements continued, gathering up your slick and spreading them all over your folds, eyes retained on your face and your expressions.
Are you feeling good? he seemed to ask, and you smiled softly.
"Very good," you whispered.
Look⊠I'm so wet for you.
Though you didn't say it, you saw the way his eyes traveled down to your cunt, finger raising as if to look in awe at the sticky mess you had made for yourself.
"âŠBeautiful."
He spoke again.
And this time, there was little to no hesitation left in his actions before he was in you, cock nestled so warmly, so perfectly, so deeply into your core.
The intrusion had you drawing in a sharp breath no matter how used to his size you would think you'd gotten, but before you could react, he had pulled you into a tight, almost possessive embrace.
"Please," he choked. You could feel his tears wetting your skin as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. "Please⊠just this once⊠Just for the last time, just⊠PleaseâŠ"
You clenched your walls around him, legs wrapping around his waist.
Slowly, you brought your hands up to stroke his hair.
"Zayne," you murmured. "You're still Zayne, right?"
"⊠Notâ"
"Mine. I know. You're the Zayne in his dreams. Aren't you?"
You felt him nuzzle into your neck with a certain desperation, a whimper tearing from his throat.
It was answer enough.
Yet you moved your hips, grinding against him, urging him to claim you more, claim you deeper.
"It's okay," you repeated, softly, "you can move."
Zayne was still Zayne. You had made the choice from the start.
You wouldn't fall in love with someone in the span of just a few daysâbut it had taken only a few couple of meetings, barely lasting hours, barely lasting minutes.
Zayne was still Zayne.
You would love everything of him.
Your hips continued to move, bucking upwards onto his, cherishing the groans he would make into your skin. It was you who set the paceâa silent voice of permission, of pleadingâŠ
And he followed suit.
"My loveâŠ"
He began to thrust.
"âŠMy loveâŠ"
Harder, faster.
"My love."
You gasped as he pulled away from you, panting harshly, driving his length in and out of youâdesperate. Desperate.
"M- mmâ!" you moaned out, arching your back. "Zayne⊠Zayne!"
"Can I⊠Can I?" he groaned above you, eyes shut in pleasure. He didn't stopâdidn't want to stop. Lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin proved every bit of desire he had for you, if the image above you was not proof enough. "Please, my loveâŠ"
You held him tightly.
"Yes," you gasped. "Take me⊠You can have all of me, fill me up, cum inside, pleaseâ"
You mewled at a particularly sharp thrust, and your legs tightened around his waist. He was throbbing, his movements jerking erratically as you spoke your words.
"Fill⊠f-fill?" his eyes were wide, but he continued.
It gave you joy to know you were affecting him like this.
It's exactly the sameâŠ
"Yes, Zayne. You can give it to me. Please, please, I need it⊠Need it insideâŠ" You begged, and clawed at his back, and moved to his thrusts the best that you could. "Inside, insideâ!"
Please, please, please.
He whimpered as you tightened around him, urging him to spill, urging you to stuff you full like you wanted him to. His breathing became ragged, eyes nearly glazing over with pleasure at the mere thought of it.
He could claim you like this.
Even if it's not the real him, even if he's not doing this as himselfâ
You could see all manner of thoughts flash in his eyes as his gaze became hungrier. More desperate. More⊠resolved.
"I'll f-fill you up," he grunted. "Pump you⊠s-s-so full of me⊠All of meâ My love, my love, my loveâ"
You cried out as he buried himself all the way into you, your hips colliding as hot, thick ropes of his cum painted your insides. Your body shuddered, slick trickling out of you and dripping down onto the sheets. You felt warm all felt; almost sore, your cunt pulsing around him as you tried to steady your breaths.
He collapsed against you, pulling you in for a kiss.
"If I can have youâŠ" he breathed, "even just once⊠even just once, I⊠I'm happyâŠ"
I'm happy.
Your eyes shone as you cradled his face, daring to place a small flurry of kisses over his cheek.
I'm happy.
This was all you wanted.
Love was powerful, you thought. And of you loved himâif you loved all of him, then everything would be okay. You wanted to believe that.
Perhaps in a fit overwhelmed by your acceptance, he gasped, and you felt him roll his hips in placeâ
You didn't stop him.
He could do this as many times as he needed, as much as he was here with you.

an : actually crying bc im hoping i did him justice why is zayne always so hard to write omlll
taglist! @interstellar-inn @pixelcafe-network @hunters-association @ononpetitecroissant @darlingdummycassandra @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valyvinny @rafayelsheart @jellyroom2 @chemiru @ywnzn @pepprrmint @angel-jupiter @rafayelsgf @spotted-salamander @love-and-deepstrays @oharasmommymilkers00 @rafslvr @keioxo @theanbitchless
© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.
#roxie; rtkkinktober24#kinktober 2024#kinktober#love and deepspace smut#love & deepspace smut#lnds smut#lads smut#l&ds smut#love and deepspace x reader#love & deepspace x reader#lnds x reader#lads x reader#l&ds x reader#love and deepspace zayne#love & deepspace zayne#lnds zayne#lads zayne#l&ds zayne#zayne#dawnbreaker#dawnbreaker zayne#zayne smut#zayne x reader#zayne x you#divider by cafekitsune#âżË°. roxiefic#ÊÉ*.ïŸ. lnds
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Hi rye congrats on 1k! Can i have slice one with togame jo (windbreaker), nsfw prompt no 18? Tq in advance đ
â EVENT OVERVIEW
prompt: 18 - âyouâre such a mess.â characters: togame jo (wbk) x afab!reader contents: nsfw mdni !! unprotected p in v, implied multiple orgasms, slight manhandling, tummy bulge, creampie, a bit of size kink, some pussy inspecting? mention of cum eating, petnames (baby & sweetheart), reader is physically smaller wc ~ 700
a/n: thank you sm for participating anon! <3 finally got around to start writing my event requests TwT as iâve said before, updates are gonna be super slow bcs uni is still kicking my ass so take note of that !! first time writing for togame btw erm
âcâmon, y/n. youâre still with me?â
glassy-eyed and lightheaded, you feel the room spins as if in slow motion. literally and figuratively.
one second you were on your knees and cheek pressed onto the sheets, and the next your view suddenly changed to that of the ceiling. a pair of hands slides up from your waist to cradle your face, thumbs rubbing soft circles on the apple of your cheeks.
togame leans in, connecting your foreheads together before he gives you a small kiss. your lips easily meld together as you hum against him, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.
his emerald gaze, his lips, his hands. everything about them feels delicate whenever they fall on you, as gentle as the leaves rustling in the wind, and soft in the way his warmth envelopes you like a pile of heated blankets on a cold winter night.
youâd almost cried at how wholesome his attention is, and how fulfilling his love is becoming. almost, if not for the way his hips rolls so hard into you that youâre starting to sob for an entirely different reason.
togame is by no means average-sized. barely halfway in and heâs already stretching you to the max, pressing in so deeply and ever so slightly in a tilted way that his cock curves perfectly upwards inside your sopping cunt. every single inch of him hits all the sweet spots inside you just right, sparks of pleasure bursting behind your eyelids as wanton moans escape from your mouth.
he eventually sets a rapid pace, his movement fluid and steady as the blunt tip of his cock starts to repeatedly hit the deepest part of your core. âthatâs it, baby. youâre taking me so well,â he purrs in your ear, causing you to whine in response.
âf-fuck, âs so big,â you clench around his generous length as wet squelching sounds of your pussy echo in the room, skin slapping against skin as your cries and his grunts stringing together like a dirty symphony.
togame slips a hand behind your neck then, pulling you up for another kiss before he holds you there, heads leaning against each other to make you notice, to make you see what heâs doing to you.
you donât realize it at first, too lost in the feeling of his cock dragging oh so deliciously in between your velvety walls. but when you finally get a good look at it, youâd nearly come right on the spot.
thereâs a thick creamy ring around the base of his cock, courtesy of the previous rounds youâd had and how much heâd been cumming inside you, and when he drives himself home again inside your wet heat with that same crazy depth, same crazy angle, your stomach bulges with every thrust.
âshh, just feel me here, sweetheart,â he coos before his hand grabs one of yours, dwarfing it entirely before settling them both together on your lower belly, right where his thick cock continues to make that little bump on the skin.
it makes you dizzy, so freaking turned on and almost delirious at the sight as togame slams deeper into you. âjo⊠g-gonna cum - fuck,â tears blur your vision, your whimpers growing louder by the second when his other hand grips tighter on the back of your thigh.
âyeah? you like feeling yourself when youâre getting fucked like this, hm?â he presses down harder on your stomach with just the right amount of pressure and before you know it youâre already cumming so hard, your cunt squeezing and gushing around his dick as your breath gets knocked out of your lungs in a broken cry of his name.
he follows behind soon after, reaching his peak with a low groan of his own as you heavily pant from the exertion. running a hand through his sweaty onyx strands, togame briefly glances down at where the two of you are still connected and gradually pulls out, ignoring your slurred complaints about the sudden loss of warmth.
he curses under his breath, âfuck, baby. youâre such a mess.â
youâre sweating all over, hair disheveled on the pillow beneath your head as pearls of tears line the lashes of your eyes. his cum and yours fill your tight hole to the brim, the mixed liquids leaking past your pussy lips and trickling down your inner thigh when togame hooks a thumb on the side of your wet folds.
he inhales sharply, eyes focusing on the obscene view before he looks back at your fucked out expression with that heavily lidded gaze again.
âmind if i have a taste?â
am i starting off too strong with this one đ§ anw âbig dick togameđŁïžâ the crowd (me) cheers
©đ
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đČđ°đżđ°đłđŽđ
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#togame jo x reader#togame jo smut#togame jo x you#jo togame x reader#jo togame smut#wbk x reader#wbk smut#wind breaker x reader#windbreaker x reader#windbreaker smut#wind breaker smut#togame smut#togame x reader#togame x you#1kakes event đ#đ„Ł rye works
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I DON'T THINK I COULD LOVE YOU MORE
****** Pairing: Billie Eilish x fem!reader Words: 1.9K
****** [So after everything that happened, I really wanted to write something cute and happy for the Grammys, I've been obssessed with Billie these last days, so I hope you like it!!!]
The alarm went off earlier than usual on the morning of the Grammys. Y/n stirred beneath the covers, stretching an arm out to find her girlfriendâonly to be met with an empty, cold spot. She frowned. If there was one thing she knew about Billie, it was how much she despised getting out of bed without spending a few minutes tangled together, exchanging sleepy kisses.
With a sigh, Y/n lazily pulled her hair into a messy bun and grabbed one of Billieâs oversized sweatshirts. If they were already huge on the singer, Y/n practically drowned in them, despite being taller than her girlfriend. But thatâs exactly what made them so cozy.
She padded toward the kitchen, where she found Billie perched on a stool, hands wrapped around a steaming cup of tea. Y/n approached her from behind, wrapping an arm around her waist and resting her chin on her girlfriendâs shoulder. It was only then that she noticed how tense Billie was.
âGood morning, my love,â Y/n murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. But instead of the usual warm response, Billie only managed a small, tight-lipped smileâmore a grimace than anything.
Y/nâs brows furrowed. Somethingâs up.
âWhatâs wrong? Are you okay?â she asked, concern evident in her voice.
Billie let out a heavy sigh, finally turning in Y/nâs embrace to face her. âSorry, baby. Itâs just⊠Iâm a bit stressed about tonight.â She hesitated, then ran a hand through her hair. âClaudia called me before the alarm went off. Turns out Finneas woke up feeling sick⊠and he lost his voice. Like, he literally canât sing, and I donât know what to do.â
âOh, babe, Iâm so sorry,â Y/n said sincerely. âBut I know youâll figure something out. Have you talked to your team?â As she spoke, she absentmindedly ran her fingers through Billieâs hair, knowing it always helped calm herâeven just a little.
âI called my mom, and she said I have two options: find someone to do the harmonies while Finneas plays guitar, or sing without them and just have him play.â
Y/n nodded, considering it. âWhat do you want to do?â she asked, pulling away briefly to make herself a cup of coffee. She missed the way Billie immediately pouted at the loss of her touch. Once her drink was ready, Y/n returned to her girlfriendâs side, taking Billieâs hand in hers and tracing slow, soothing circles on her knuckles.
âFinneas says heâll still be okay to play, so thatâs not the issue,â Billie admitted. âBut I would really like someone to sing with me. It gives the song more depth, yâknow? Makes it feel⊠fuller.â
Y/n took a thoughtful sip of her coffee. âThat makes sense. Is there anyone you can call? I mean, you still have one more rehearsalâyou could try it out with someone and see how it feels.â
Billie fell silent, deep in thought. A few moments later, a small smile tugged at her lips as she turned to face Y/n again.
âBaby,â she started sweetly. âYou know I love you, right?â
Y/n narrowed her eyes, immediately suspicious. âOf course I know⊠Why?â
Billie hesitated, her blue eyes wide and pleading. âWell⊠You obviously know the lyrics to the songâŠâ
Y/nâs stomach dropped. ââŠYeah?â
âYouâve been to every rehearsal, so you know exactly where Finneas comes inâŠâ
âBillieâŠâ
âAnd even if you donât believe it, you do have an amazing voiceâŠâ
Y/nâs eyes widened. âI do not like where this is going.â
Billie pressed her lips together before finally blurting it out. âSooo⊠Maybe⊠Remember that I love you so, so much⊠but maybe you couldâI donât knowâsing with me tonight?â She whispered the last part, voice pitching higher as she looked at Y/n with the most hopeful expression imaginable.
Y/n stared at her. âBabe. That is crazy.â She set her coffee down, heart rate already spiking. âI have never sung in front of anyoneâbarely anyone. And you want me to do it at the Grammys? In front of actual singers? I cannot do that. Iâm not prepared. Weâve never even sung your song togetherâit might not even work!â
Panic was creeping into her voice now, but she also refused to meet Billieâs gaze. She knew that if she looked into those big, ocean-blue eyes, sheâd be done for.
Billie took both of Y/nâs hands in hers. âLove, I trust you. I know you can do it. And, like you said, we still have one more rehearsal. Just try itâfor me? Please?â
Y/n groaned, running a hand down her face. She was losing this battle fast.
âI donât know⊠Are you completely sure you wouldnât be better off on your own?â she tried one last time.
Billie shook her head, voice unwavering. âIâll never be better than when Iâm with you.â
Y/n exhaled sharply, already knowing sheâd caved. Billie could ask her for the moon, and sheâd find a way to bring it to her.
âI hate that I love you so much,â she grumbled. âYou better make it up to me later.â
Billie smirked, immediately tugging Y/n closer by the hem of the sweatshirt, pulling her between her legs. One hand found its way to Y/nâs waist, the other tilting her chin up until their lips were just inches apart.
âOh, you bet I will,â Billie murmured before capturing Y/nâs lips in a slow, deep kissâsoft, yet full of passion.
â
Much to Y/nâs dismay, the rehearsal went way too smoothly. Her voice blended perfectly with Billieâs, something she had no choice but to admit. And despite the nerves that had plagued her all morning, she found herself feeling⊠a little more confident, comforted by the presence of the siblingsâFinneas strumming the guitar beside her, Billie performing so effortlessly that it almost felt natural to join in. Her girlfriend hadnât stopped showering her with compliments, making sure she knew just how amazing she was.
Now, as they got ready for the night, their hotel room was packed with stylists, makeup artists, and assistants bustling around to make sure they looked their best. Clothes were everywhereâred carpet looks, performance outfits, even afterparty choices. It was overwhelming, but Y/n took it all in stride. Sheâd do anything for Billie, and sheâd do it a hundred times over.
âBaby?â
Y/n snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of Billieâs voice. She hummed in acknowledgment, letting her know she was listening.
âI was thinking⊠Since youâll be on stage with me tonight, maybe you could also join me on the red carpet?â Billie hesitated before continuing, her voice softer. âI know we werenât planning to confirm our relationship, but I kinda want to⊠I want to hold your hand and kiss you without worrying about the cameras.â
Y/n smiled, warmth blooming in her chest. âI think todayâs perfect,â she agreed. âBesides, bringing me as your plus one wouldâve already been suspicious. Not that weâre very discreet anyway. People really donât believe our âweâre just friendsâ speech anymore.â
They both laughed, knowing she was right. They had never officially confirmed anything, but they had never exactly hidden it either. They were privateâbut that didnât mean they had to pretend.
â
Y/n had no idea how Billie remained so composed throughout the entire evening. Just walking the red carpet had her stressing, but she thought sheâd done pretty wellâposing for pictures, both together and separately, sneaking fond glances at Billie when the singer wasnât looking.
She had met so many artists she admired, with Billie proudly introducing her to people like Sabrina Carpenter and Chappell Roan, all while Y/n tried very hard not to freak out. But no matter how nerve-wracking it was, the steady presence of Billieâs hand on her back kept her grounded. The singer made sure she was okay at all timesâwhether by asking directly, squeezing her hand, or simply locking eyes from across the room.
But now, as they stood backstage, changed into their performance outfits, Y/nâs nerves returnedâstronger than ever.
She tried to hide it, not wanting to add to Billieâs stress, but of course her girlfriend saw right through her.
A few minutes before stepping on stage, Billie pulled her into a hug, making her look at her.
âYouâre going to do great, baby. I know it. Just like in rehearsals.â
âYeah⊠except this time, real singers will be watching.â
Billie smirked. âAnd? Iâll be there. Finneas will be there. If it gets too overwhelming, just look at me, alright?â
Y/n exhaled shakily but nodded. âOkay. Letâs do this.â
They shared a soft kiss before someone from production signaled that it was time.
Taking a deep breath, Y/n stepped behind the microphone. She could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on her chest, but thenâFinneas placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. They exchanged a small smile, just as the lights dimmed.
Only for Billie to start⊠talking?
âHi, guys!â Her voice echoed through the venue, casual and warm. âNormally, we donât introduce our songs because weâre short on time, but luckily, they gave me a pass tonight.â She chuckled, the crowd responding with cheers. âThis morning, we woke up to some sad newsâmy brother lost his voice. And, as you know, his harmonies are super important to this song. So, we had to find a solution.â
She turned slightly, glancing at Y/n with a teasing sparkle in her eyes.
âFinneas is still going to play, obviously, but tonight, someone very special to me will be singing his part.â She paused before adding, âSheâs a little nervous, so if you know the songâplease, help us sing. Hereâs âBirds of a Featherâ with Finneas and Y/n!â
And just like thatâit began.
At first, Y/n could barely hear herself over the sound of her own heartbeat, but as the song progressed, she found herself feeling it. The music, the moment, the presence of Billie right next to her. Every now and then, Billie would glance over, locking eyes and smiling, silently reminding her that she was right where she needed to be.
Before she knew it, it was over.
As the final note rang through the venue and the applause roared around them, Y/n barely had time to process it before Billie wrapped her in a tight hug.
âI knew you could do it! You were amazing, baby!â Billie gushed, cupping Y/nâs face and pressing quick kisses all over it.
âSays you!â Y/n laughed breathlessly. âYou were born for this, my love. Thank you for trusting me.â
âI always will,â Billie murmured. âI love you so much, Y/n.â
âI love you too.â
They kissed like there was no one else around themâbefore finally heading back to their seats. But not before Y/n insisted on changing back into her dress, claiming she didnât want to spend the rest of the night in a t-shirt.
Of course, Billie mocked her for it. âNothingâs better than a t-shirt, babe.â
They continued watching the show, Billie leaning over at one point as the stage was being set for Sabrina Carpenterâs performance.
With a mischievous smirk, she whispered into Y/nâs ear, âYou do know the next step is for you to sing with me on tour, right? And not just the harmonies.â
Y/n turned to her, eyes wide. âYouâre kidding.â
Billie just grinned, bursting into laughter at her reaction. And, despite herself, Y/n couldnât help but laugh too.
She shook her head, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Billieâs lips. âI was going to refuse, but⊠you do know all you have to do is ask.â
#billie eilish#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish imagine#billie eilish x female reader#billie eilish x y/n#billie x reader#billie eilish fanfiction#billie eilish fic#hit me hard and soft#birds of a feather
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|| finally mine
summary: THEODORE NOTT, your newfound lover after the whole new yearâs eve fiasco, is walking you to your dorm after the party. when you get there, you see a new side of him, a caring, yet dominant side... oh, honey, itâs okay, he just wants to show you his love, the love that pours from every fiber of his being for you.
word count: ngl, i didnât feel like finding out. itâs shorter than part one.
part one
a/n: this is lowercase intended. i kind of rushed this, so iâm sorry if itâs awful⊠iâve had horrible writers block recently.
warnings: smut. rough, but caring theo. praise kink. italian nicknames. italian!theo. a little bit of jealousy.
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
the rain poured around you and theodore, his arms over your heads as he lifted his robe to keep from getting wet. to your not-so-utter surprise, it wasnât working very well.
âtheo, weâre still getting soaked,â you giggled, walking close enough to him to have your head under his armâwhich, funnily enough, was protecting you more from the rain than his robe.
theodore shook his head, laughing softly beside you. âno, no, no, bambina, the robe is doing wonders.â he sighed before smiling again, almost as if he was lost in thought.
âi never dreamed i'd be walking you back to your dorm room on new year's eve," theodore remarked, his voice low and playful. "but i'm very glad i am now."
you looked up at him, your eyes reflecting the twinkling lights from the castle as you walked. "me too," you whispered, squeezing his arm gently. the rain continued to fall, but it no longer bothered you. you couldnât stop smiling due to where the night was ending.
he reluctantly takes the robe off and slides it back on, the wetness no affecting him due to how wet he already was. heâs looking at you as if you were a jewel, and you smile at him. âwhat?â you asked.
a slow smile spreaded across his face. leaning in closer, his nose brushed against yours as if he were he breathing in your scent. "nothing⊠itâs justâyou are everything to me, soffio," he murmured, his voice low and thick with emotion.
his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your damp hair as he tilted your head gently to the side. "youâre absolutely everything." he repeated, his eyes flickering down to your lips, a hunger burning in their depths. "and i donât ever want to put you in a position where you think otherwise again," he whispered, before capturing your mouth in a searing kiss that left you breathless. his lips moved against yours with a passion and intensity you'd never felt before, pouring all of his love and desire into that single, perfect moment.
as theodore's lips moved urgently against your own, his hands roamed your curves, holding you close as if he never wanted to let you go.
when he finally pulled back, you were both left breathless, your chests heaving and your cheeks flushed. âcome on,â theodore's eyes were dark with desire as he gazed down at you, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "let's get you inside before we catch pneumonia," he murmured, his voice low and husky.
âsounds like a plan,â you chuckled, a sudden desire arousing within you.
he took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers as he led you quickly into the entrance hall of your dormitory. the warmth of the interior was a stark contrast to the chilly rain outside, and you couldn't help but shiver slightly as the door closed behind you.
theodore noticed and immediately wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side. "you're freezing, bambina," he said softly, rubbing your arm to try and warm you up. "come on, let's get you to your room."
he guided you upstairs, his steps confident and purposeful. when you reached your door, he turned to face you, his hand still gently rubbing your arm. he looked down at you, his eyes soft and caring. "here we are," he murmured, glancing at the wood panel behind you. ânow get inside, bella, i donât want you catching a cold.â
theodore leaned against the doorframe, his damp chestnut hair falling across his forehead as he gazed down at you with a warm, affectionate smile. his dark green robe clung to his tall, muscular frame, the fabric glistening with raindrops. he reached out, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingertips lingering on your cheek.
âwhat about you," you murmured softly, your voice trembling slightly with anticipation, "why donât you come inside? i donât want you catching a cold either, teddy. besides, i don't to spend new years alone." you stepped into the room, pulling him gently by the hand.
your voice cracks, almost as if it were a plea. âplease, stay with me tonight.â
theodore paused, his eyes widening slightly at your invitation. a slow, worriful look spread across his features as he gazed down at you, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "are you sure, soffio?" he asked softly, a hint of teasing in his low, melodic voice. "because if i come in there, i donât know if i'll be able to control myself." he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "seeing you with enzo tonightâit drove me crazy.â his other hand slid down to the small of your back, pulling your curves flush against his muscular chest. "cara mia, i yearn for you." his voice was whiny, almost as if he were about to fall to his knees, his gaze intense and filled with a quiet desperation.
âtheodore," you breathed out, your eyes darkening with desire as you gazed up at him. "iâm sure. you can ask anyone we knowâi've wanted you for so long.â
you slid your hands up his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath his damp robe. your fingers curled into the fabric, tugging him closer until your bodies were pressed together, your curves fitting perfectly against the hard planes of his muscular frame.
"please," you whispered, your voice low and filled with longing. "make me yours, theodore. i want to start this new year as your girl, completely and entirely yours, nobody elses." you leaned in, your lips brushing against his jawline as you placed hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of his throat.
your hands fumbled with the sash of his robe, desperation coursing through your veins as you tried to remove the barrier between your bodies. "please, theodore," you whimpered, your voice high and needy. "i need you so badly, i can't stand it."
âbellaâ youâre trembling,â his brows etched upward, his large hands squeezing gently at your hips. you moan against his neck, and something inside of him switches. something predatory.
you captured his mouth in a fierce, desperate kiss, your tongue tangling with his own as you poured all of your desire into the embrace. your hands slid beneath his robe, nails raking down his back as you held him close. "fuck me, theodore," you gasped against his lips. "iâm sorry for being so straight forwardâbut please, fuck me like you mean it, like you'll never let me go."
theodore groaned deeply as your nails dug into his back, his hips surging forward to grind his hardening length against your core. "if you keep begging like that, bella," he growled, his voice low and rough with desire. "âŠi donât know what iâll do."
âme,â you press yourself against him, your palm feeling his hard erection through his pants. âdo me, make me yours, please.â
theodore's eyes flashed with a primal hunger at your desperate pleas, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "y/n, you have no idea what you're asking for," he whimpered, his hands grabbing at your hips. "if we do this, i won't be able to hold back. i'll take you in ways you've never been taken before.â
he leaned down, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your throat as he spoke. "i've wanted you for so long, bellissima. watched you with other men, imagining all the things i would do to you, how i would claim this body as mine."
theodore's grip tightened, fingers digging into the flesh of your rear as he grinded his hardening bulge against your core. "if we start this, you're mine. no turning back,â he warned, voice dropping an octave.
âi want this,â you say, surprised but not upset at his complete change in demeanor.
at that, he threw off his robe, letting it fall to the floor as he revealed his toned, muscular body to your hungry gaze. he captured your hands, pinning them above your head as he settled between your thighs, the hard length of his cock pressing insistently against your clothed sex.
it was almost as if all he needed was your approval before flipping the switch.
"i'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll be feeling it for days," he promised darkly, his hips rolling in a slow, teasing grind against yours. "i'm going to claim this pretty pussy as mine, make it mine in every way possible."
âplease, theo,â you moaned, the sight of him and his dominance making you drip with desire.
he tugged your leggings and panties down your legs, tossing them aside carelessly. his fingers delved between your thighs, stroking through your slick folds, feeling your wetness. "so fucking wet for me already," he purred, his fingers circling your clit.
theodore's fingers have already slipped inside you, pumping in and out of your soaked entrance. his thumb rubbed firm circles around your clit, making your hips buck up against his hand, desperate for more. "please, theodore," you whimpered, your voice high and needy, "i need your cock inside me, i need you to fill me up."
he chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through his chest. "so impatient, amore mio. don't worry, i'll give you what you need." he withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips to suck your juices clean. "mmm, you taste so good, soffio."
he undid his trousers, freeing his hard, thick cock. it jerked against his stomach, long and heavy, the swollen head already leaking with arousal. "look at what you do to me, bella," he said softly, wrapping a hand around his length and stroking slowly. "look how hard you make me, how much i need to be inside you."
theodore's eyes darkened as he watched you watch him stroke his thick cock. "no one could ever love you the way i do, soffio," he murmured, his voice low and intense. "not lorenzo, not anyone else." his hand tightened around his length, pumping faster as he held your gaze. "i've known you for so long, been by your side through everything. i know every part of you, inside and out." he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. "i know how to make you feel pleasure beyond what anyone else could even imagine. you're mine, and you always will be."
he positioned himself at your entrance, the thick head of his cock nudging against your slick folds. "tell me you know it too, amore mio," he demanded, his voice rough with desire. "tell me you know that no one could ever fuck you like i can, could ever make you feel as good as i do." he rolled his hips, teasing you with the promise of being filled. "say it, soffio. i want to hear you say it."
you reached up, cupping his chiseled jaw in your palm as you traced the sharp lines of his face with your fingertips. "i've never wanted anyone as much as i want you," you confessed softly, your voice trembling with emotion. "i've never felt this way about anyone before." you brushed your thumb across his bottom lip, your breath mingling with his own. "please, theodore. please make me yours, completely and entirely. i need you to fuck me like you mean it, like you'll never let me go. pleaseâyouâre the only one who could ever make me feel good, baby, please.â
theodore's eyes flashed with a primal hunger at your words, a possessive gleam that sent shivers down your spine. "that's my girl," he praised softly, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
theo's grin widened, showing off his perfect white teeth as he gazed down at you with a newfound intensity. "you're perfect, you know that? such a good girl, so eager to give yourself to me completely."
his hand slid up your side, cupping your breast and squeezing gently as he rolled his hips, teasing your entrance with his thick length. "i can feel how much you want it, how desperate you are to be filled by me. your little pussy is gripping my cock so tightly already, begging to be stretched and filled."
theo leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "you have a praise kink, don't you, amore mio? you love hearing me tell you how good and perfect you are while i fuck this sweet cunt." he nipped at your earlobe before soothing it with his tongue. "don't worry, bella. i'm going to praise you the whole time, let you know just how amazing you are as i claim this pussy as mine."
you couldnât help the way your eyes rolled back.
theo rolled his hips again, the head of his cock popping inside your tight entrance. "you're going to be screaming my name in no time, begging me to fuck you harder and deeper.â
a breathy whimper escaped your lips as theodoreâs praise washed over you, your body trembling with anticipation and desire. "theo," you gasped, your voice high and needy as you clung to him desperately. "please, i needâfuck!" your hips jerked as he pushed forward, your walls clenching greedily around his thick length as it stretched you open.
"oh fuck, you're so big," you mewled, your thighs quivering around his waist. tears of pleasure pricked at the corners of your eyes as you gazed up at him, your irises hazy and unfocused.
theodoreâs eye lit up, the way you screamed for him making him almost cum on the spot.
your fingers dug into his back, nails raking down his skin as you tried to pull him closer, to feel more of his weight pressing down on you. "more," you whimpered pitifully, your voice breaking on the word. "please, theo, more. i need it, i need you so badly."
you arched your back, pressing your aching breasts against his chest as you wrapped your legs around his waist. your body was a live wire of sensation, every nerve ending screaming with the need to be touched.
theodore groaned deeply as your walls clenched vice-like around his throbbing cock, your desperate whimpers spurring on his desire. "fuck, listen to you, so needy and greedy for my dick," he growled, his hips surging forward to bury himself balls-deep inside your tight heat. "such a good girl, taking me so deep already."
he paused for a moment, savoring the feeling of your walls fluttering around his length. he leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he whispered against them. "you're doing so well, amore mio. taking my cock like you were made for it."
his hand slid down to your ass, squeezing the firm globe as he started to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained inside you before slamming back in, setting a hard and fast pace. "this is what you needed, isn't it? to be split open on your best friendâs thick cock, fucked so hard you forget your own name?"
he angled his hips, hitting that special spot inside you with every deep thrust. "i'm going to ruin you for anyone else, soffio. no one will ever make you feel as good as i can."
theodore could feel your body tensing, your walls starting to flutter and clench around his pistoning length. "that's it, baby. fuck, you're getting close already, aren't you?" he groaned, his thrusts becoming harder and more urgent as he chased your impending release. "come on, amore mio. i want to feel this pretty little pussy spasm around my cock as you scream my name."
he slid a hand between your bodies, his fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub. "cum for me, y/n. let go and give yourself to me completely. i know you need it, baby. i can feel how badly you want it."
theodore's hips snapped forward, driving into you with a force that rocked your entire body. "do it, y/n. scream my name and cum on my cock like a good girl. show me who this pussy belongs to."
your body started to tremble, your walls clenching desperately around theodore's pistoning length as you teetered on the brink of ecstasy. "theodore!" you cried out, your voice raw and desperate as you clung to him for dear life.
your hips jerked and bucked wildly beneath him, meeting his every powerful thrust as you raced towards your climax. "iâm cummingâiâm cumming!" you sobbed, your entire being consumed with the all-encompassing need to let go.
theodore's fingers worked furiously over your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "that's it, y/n. let it happen. give yourself to me, all of yourself," he commanded, his voice a low, dominant rumble. "i want to feel your cum dripping down my cock as you scream my name in pure bliss."
his hips slammed into yours one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he growled, "cum, y/n. now."
your body convulsed, your inner walls clenching like a vice around theoâs throbbing cock as your orgasm crashed over you. "theo!" you screamed, your voice echoing off the walls as wave after wave of intense pleasure consumed you.
your vision went white, stars exploding behind your eyelids as you shook and trembled beneath him, completely at the mercy of your overwhelming climax. "fuck, fuck!" you chanted mindlessly, drool leaking from the corner of your mouth as you surrendered to the blissful agony of your release.
your thighs clamped around his waist, holding him deep inside you as your pussy spasmed and fluttered around his length, milking him for all he was worth. tears streamed down your face, sobs of ecstasy wracking your chest as you rode out the intense high, your body wracked with the force of your orgasm.
theodore slowed his thrusts, his hips gently rocking into yours as he let you ride out your high, his hands stroking over your trembling body soothingly. "shhh, that's it. that's my good girl," he murmured, pressing soft kisses to your face, catching your tears with his lips. "you did so well, baby. so perfect."
when your shudders finally subsided, he carefully pulled out of you, hissing softly at the feeling of your tight walls clenching around his sensitive cock. he gently rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were curled up against his chest, your head pillowed on his bicep.
his fingers combed through your sweat-dampened hair, brushing it back from your face as he gazed down at you with a soft, tender smile. "are you okay, baby? that was... intense," he said softly, a note of concern in his voice. "i didn't hurt you, did i?â
you looked up at theodore, your eyes hazy but filled with warmth and affection. a small, blissful smile tugged at your kiss-swollen lips as you shook your head, nuzzling into his chest. "no, not at all," you murmured, your voice hoarse from screaming his name. "that was... amazing. better than amazing."
you traced patterns on his chest with your fingertips, marveling at the way his muscles jumped beneath your touch.
theodore's eyes softened as he gazed down at your blissed out expression, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "you're incredible, you know that?" he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. "i've wanted you for so long. not sexually, just⊠as a whole.â
theodore gazed deeply into your eyes, his own filled with a tender, loving adoration he had never before allowed himself to show.
theodore gazed deeply into your eyes, his own filled with a tender, loving adoration he had never before allowed himself to show. "i've fallen in love with you, y/n," he confessed softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "not just as a friend, or even just as a lover. i'm in love with all of youâyour brilliant mind, your kind heart, your stunning beauty inside and out." he cupped your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin as he held your gaze captive. "i couldnât be more grateful to call myself your boyfriend.â
you felt your heart skip a beat at theodore's heartfelt confession, a warmth spreading through your chest that had nothing to do with the afterglow of your intense lovemaking. "theo," you breathed out, your eyes shining with unshed tears of happiness. "i... i love you too. so much."
you leaned up, pressing your forehead against his as you gazed at him with a soft, loving smile. "i never thought i could feel this way about anyone. especially not someone i've known for so long." you chuckled softly, shaking your head in amazement. "but here we are. and i couldn't be happier."
you snuggled closer to him, draping your leg over his waist as you traced his jawline with your fingertips. "you're not just my boyfriend, theodore. you're my best friend. the person i trust most in the world." you leaned in, brushing your lips softly against his in a tender kiss.
theodore gazed deeply into your eyes, his heart racing as he drank in the sight of your blissful, loving expression. "i feel the same way about you," he murmured, a note of wonder in his voice. "especially not my best friend." he smiled softly, shaking his head in amazement. "and i am so grateful that i donât have to hide it anymore."
#fanfic#theodore nott scenarios#theodore nott fluff#theodore nott imagine#theo fluff#theo nott x reader#theodore nott x reader#slytherin#hogwarts#slytherin boys#theodore nott#theodore nott smut
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â YANDERE! MALEWIFE! GENSHIN AU part one | two | three | four | five
âą neuvillette, wriothesley, lyney, freminet + baizhu
introducing ! fontaine is the country of romance, and what could be the peak of romance but marriage? you have sworn your eternal love and fealty to your partner and fontainians are anything but dispassionate lovers! if you're scared that your partner will get too passionate, well.... qui vivra verra.
[ happy new year! is yestr actually being productive?! i did not do mika bc... gasp! yestr is lazy?! who wouldve known! ]
warning ! yandere behavior, bIackma1l, mĂșrder, i feel like im getting lost by own aus so i have to say it again: this is modern teyvat!, hints at poison, jealousy, child assĂĄssins?!
â ORDAINER OF INEXORABLE JUDGMENT. neuvillette | ăăŽăŁăŹăă
[ âclearly, your workplace is not complying with multiple clauses of the Code du Travail, i shouldââ ]
âą before meeting you, neuvillette couldnât have imagined getting married and settling down for a domestic life. heâd always thought that heâd forever be swamped with trials and paperworks until he hit retirement age. he had no ideal life in mind, only work and justice to occupy his thoughts, until you came along and he found himself exchanging vows with you in a fontainian church.
âą he wouldnât call his current life âretirementâ per se, but rather a change of occupation. tending to the house while you left for your job appealed to him more than working day in and day out in courthouses. he had taken up baking and cooking, something to treat the visiting melusines with as they dropped by to check on their father and his partner. neuvillette and a party of chatty melusines having tea and homemade cookies is a common sight to return home to. the melusines are pretty friendly with you, having seen how enamored their father figure is with you. their innocent smiles and cute lil bodies are stress relievers, though not more so than your husbandâs gentle smile and firm hands massaging the knots from your shoulders.
âą he busies himself with various hobbies once all the chores are out of the way. flip through a book and read out loud to the melusines snuggled on top of him, attempt a baking recipe one of the girls begged him to try, or stroll through the neighborhood to clear his mind. he doesnât even know heâs so so lonely until he hears your car pull up in the driveway and he immediately jumps up from whatever heâs doing and rushes over to greet you. the first thing you see is your husband peering through the window with a cool composure, but you can see straight through that facade. you see his brows knitted together in worry, his fingers nervously adjusting the hems of his robe, and his eyes eagerly drinking your tired body in as you make it up the steps. you canât help but smile as you bring him down to your level and kiss him, your big, awkward oaf of a husband.
âą is very particular about the water in your household. taps are all filtered, the water dispenser is stocked with only the best brands, and he is oh-so-meticulous when it comes to drawing your baths! he makes sure that the water is at the right temperature, filters out any impurities no matter how minuscule of an atom by his hand, and uses salts and bath bombs according to what he assumes will be your liking for the day. the both of you prioritized the bathroom when building your house, so the bathtub and the surrounding atmosphere is juuust right for a little cuddle time in the bath.
âą dragon-born that he is, you have to forgive neuvilletteâs tendencies of being a tad too possessive. well, âtadâ is a bit underselling it, but you have to understand. the whiskey scent stuck to your wrinkled laundry, the nauseating aroma of another oneâs perfume⊠something dark and guttural creeps from within his depths that he forces himself to repress. you know heâs not one for perfumes, but if you did wear one it would be one that he likedâ crisp, fresh, aquatic. not this scent-numbing sweetness that cloys his senses. heâd like to burn the top and its offensive scent away but⊠he remembers how damn good you look in this v-neck and decides that itâs nothing a lil spin the wash canât fix.
âą luckily, your husband is still on the saner side, so youâre one of the lucky few who might never come across your husbandâs violent tendencies. but they still come out, just a bit more⊠subtly. he massages your stiff shoulders late at night as he puts on a record on the gramophone for you, listening to you rant about your terrible boss. there are a few details that make him pause, and for a second there you thought he was going to pop your arms from their sockets. but he composes himself so quickly that you think you just imagined it. he inquires a bit more, rubbing your back with a generous helping of lavender oil, and you tell it all to him because⊠why wouldnât you? this is your sweet, worried husband who is oh-so-wise and amazing!
âą the very next day, not your boss but your upper management gets a visit from the maison gardiennage. theyâre all in upheaval now that theyâve got the police on them, but neuvillette is sitting at home contently, sipping tea with you in the garden after your office has suddenly called off work for the day. heâs taking glances from his oh-so-interesting novel to watch your face as you reach for another cookie the girls baked, rambling about how miraculous it for your company to generously allow all of you a day-off. he just chuckles and goes back to his book, gratefully accepting a cookie a melusineâs reaches towards his mouth.
âoh, it hardly feels real!â you gush over a cup of rose tea, lounging in the shade of your backyardâs trees while you, neuvillette, and the melusines enjoy a perfect sunny afternoon. âthey called the whole day off, it falls on a friday, i get to have a long weekend, and i get to spend it all with you and the girls!â you sigh dreamily. âpinch me neuvi, it feels like a dream!â your husband, picture-perfect in his chair with a book and melusine in his arms, chuckles at your dramatics. âdear, if one measly day off makes you act this way, maybe itâs time for you to find another job. orâŠâ feeling huffy by the mere implication, you abruptly stand up and slam your hands on the table. âno, no, neuvi! i love you, but i canât possibly have you working again! you deserve it after all these years of hard work! i want you to just sit back and relax and have your awesome partner shower you in money, okay?â he takes your face in his hand, his thumb running along your dark undereyes. you watch as his face, normally so composed yet awkward, contort into a mixture of worry and regret, before finally dissolving into acceptance. âwell. that i would allow. so long as you return to by my side at the end of the night.â you giggle and press a kiss into his palm before plopping back down. âso romantic!â you tease. âof course, neuvi! where else would i come back to anyway?â you donât know it, but the dragon inside him preens at your unknowing admission of ownership as he settles back into his chair and continues his novel with a silent smile on his face.
[ âwell girls, that is how marriage ought to be when you are bound to a dragon. ownership of your spouse and in turn, protect your treasure at all times.â ]
â EMISSARY OF SOLITARY INIQUITY. wriothesley | ăȘăȘă»ăčăȘ
[ âkeep my shirt on, you say? well sure, but youâre the one enjoying the show.â ]
âą your darn stud of a husbandâŠ! with his cool blue eyes, his large scarred biceps, that cocky smirk when he catches you staring and just⊠everything about him, he makes you feel like youâre back to the younger you who could only stare yearningly at him from afar. heâs always teasing you, making sure to unbutton the first three buttons just to show off his cleavage⊠he gets a kick out of seeing you blushing and squeaking when he gets too close wearing nothing but an apron.
âą when the two of you moved into the neighborhood, he scared off the neighbors with his cold features and muscled, scarred body, but thatâs not quite the case anymore. they quickly got to know him as pretty easygoing and reliable; the community relies on him for a lot of heavy lifting for their projects, and he frequently invites the aunties for tea parties in your backyard. you often come home to the aunties filing out your gate in giggles, slapping you on the shoulder for a job well done securing such a âhunk of a manâ. you raise your eyebrows at wriothesley, who leans against the door frame with a smug smirk before beckoning you for dinner.
âą heâs a little bit hesitant whenever the topic of having kids comes up. he knows he is not his foster parents⊠and yet the thought of setting these scarred hands on an innocent little life. these hands have ended peopleâ cruel, abusive, and cold-hearted, but people nonetheless. heâs afraid that he might continue the cycle of abuse that heâs been haunted by for so long. wriothesley knows deep down that will never happen; you were there to ground him and keep his wits about him, but his fears still surface whenever the conversation happens. these children would be yours too, and he wants nothing but the best for you and this family.
âą when you talk to him about a co-worker hitting on you at work, he isnât so insecure as to immediately get jealous and possessive. heâs a smug bastard; he knows heâs hot. heâs got aunties telling him, men and women alike eyeing him in the gym, and heâs got you blushing every day like you arenât married. so he only laughs with you at their meaningless attempts. things get⊠a bit different when youâre in actual danger. throughout your relationship, wriothesleyâs always been the overprotective type. sometimes you think heâs going too far, with the way youâve seen him throwing hands and crushing skulls at sleazy men trying to grope you in bars. but you havenât seen anything yet.
âą you donât know. you donât know his past, donât know his deeds, donât know his sins. heâs only ever presented himself as a suave, teasing gentleman. he was as normal as a prison warden could get and he played this role until you said yes to his proposal. you donât know about life before he was in power. when he was the one behind those bars. youâve never questioned why he didnât let you into his workspace or why he was so eager to get away from that life as soon as you two signed the marriage papers.
âą and so it sends a shiver down your spine when you see wriothesley so⊠lifeless. you thought it was a nice surprise, seeing your husband wait for you outside your work, but with the way heâs staring down your co-worker youâre beginning to suspect that heâs not actually there for you. you try pushing him to make him budge, but his muscled body doesnât move an inch as the slimy rat scampers away from his glare. you call out his name, worriedly, and he blinks a few times before heâs back to his normal, friendly self. you spend the rest of the week in unease, those strangersâ eyes haunting you at the back of your mind.
âlook at you,â wriothesley hums, dropping the nearly unconscious person from his grasp. they fall to the alleyâs cement ground, heaving and spluttering blood as they try to regain their senses. splotches of black block their vision, the buzz of nightlife so far away and muffled in his ringing ears, and when he tries to prop himself up, the ex-wardenâs glare makes them freeze in terror. âi donât make a habit of hurting people, believe me, but itâs hard to stay calm when i hear some rat is harassing my partner when iâm not there.â he presses a heel into their ruptured throat, indifferent to the ensued coughing and choking. âdo you know how long iâve been waiting for this? to teach you a lesson?â âi donâtâ wheezeâ donât know whatâre ya talkinâ aboutâ!â at this, wriothesley scowls and he releases them from his heelâs pressure before delivering a swift kick to their shin. theyâre sent flying towards a dumpster, their back hitting the metal and sending them back to the concrete. wriothesley approaches them, towering over their bloody figure. theyâre ways off from the red district and even if they could scream, their throat is too damaged to even think about it. they can only stare in growing fear as they pray that this⊠monster before him would spare him. âpleading guilty, huh? too bad.â their eyes roll to the back of their head as his fingers wrap around their throat, crushing their pipe with the eased movements of a murderer. âiâm not some justice system. iâm just here to kill you. plain and simpleâ he grins at the dying man still weakly struggling to push away his arm. âyou understand, right? allâs fair in love and war⊠or somethinâ like that.â
[ âthey said something about me? pay no mind. people like to gossip about handsome people like me.â ]
â SPECTACLE OF PHANTASMAGORIA. lyney | ăȘă
[ âone moment there is nothing in my palm and the next⊠tada! roses from the garden! welcome home~â ]
âą lyneyâs always been the coy, teasing type. he likes to suddenly pull your faces together, breath on your lips as he leans in for a kiss, before his finger slips in a failed cooking and he bounces away laughing as you splutter and gag. he likes to wake up in the morning, innocent stretching as if he doesnât notice the way his shorts ride up his thighs and your shirt on him hiking up to show his lean physique. he puts on a showâ hiding his face as he teases you for being a pervert for enjoying his oh-so-vulnerable body. you blush and finish straightening out your necktie, leaving lyney to laugh as you bolt out the door for work.
âą even before you were married, the two of you already enjoy all the stresses and joys that come with being parents. lyney, after all, is the successor of the same orphanage he grew up in. the children there call him âfatherâ and when he introduced you to them, you found yourself taking up the same parent role as your partner. lyney is overjoyed to see you take to the children so well, fondly dropping by the orphanage next door and taking time out of your busy schedule to play with them. when youâre finall off the clock, you see lyney in an apron waving you from the porch surrounded by children leaning over to greet you two. you always have to tighten your grip on the steering wheel whenever you see the sight. itâs like⊠itâs like⊠gah, you canât explain it, but something about this domestic bliss lights up a fire in your loins.
âą has a habit of rewarding you after a long dayâs work. once he makes sure that all the orphans are settled in for the night, the two of you move to your abode next door so he can soothe the stress from your body. poor thing, he murmurs, finger tickling the shell of your ear as he sets down your plate in front of you. his pretty partner, being bullied by their big, mean boss and their pushy co-workers. lucky for you, youâve got such an adoring husband ready to take care of you for the rest of the night, huh?
âą family. family. heâs had lynette, but to have parents by his side to coddle and cherish him? heâs never grown to know such a feeling. so when he sees you playing with the kids, begrudging in indulging their outlandish requests yet smiling with such fondness⊠something inside him burns so passionately he thinks it might consume him. by blood, these kids were not his but this must be it. to have a whole and complete family. and to have this family with you, the love of his life! were it not for the tight feeling in his chest, he wouldâve thought that this would be a fantastical dream.
âą the house of the hearth is just a government recruitment agency under the guise of a loving orphanage, and everyone but you is privy to that information. you donât recognize your own children following you in the streets or peering into your office windows. the cctvs donât catch them rustling through your bossâ drawers for black market transactions. why would you, when you come home to them smiling and hugging your legs, begging you for a bedtime story? when you retire for the night, they report to their bossâ their Fatherâ and itâs just another day of keeping their family whole and happy.
âą you are, after all, are lyneyâs weakness. you remain blissfully aware of the many people after your head, hoping to cut deep into snezhnayan government by gaining the upper hand with lyney. so you donât know how much blood has been shed in your name by the same innocent kids youâve grown to care for as your own⊠or the fact that it has been all commanded by your loving and faithful husband, who kisses you on the lips so sweetly every night that you would never know theyâve been long tainted by poison.
âfather,â one of his children kneel on the ground, cloaked in black as they ready to deliver their report for the day. ânothing unusual has happened today in the office.â âthatâs good news then!â âFatherâ claps happily as he lounges lazily on his mahogany office desk. despite the smile in his voice and his cheery demeanor, his child doesnât have to look up to see the cold-hearted eyes of an experienced agency and killer. ânice to know that the new boss has been behaving himself. it took so many of them before they realized what was actually going on!â âyes, father, this new one has been behaving himself butâŠâ his child pauses, cautious to speak what they were about to say. âhave you not considered asking mama to move jobs?â lyney sighs and puts a hand on his cheek. âoh dear, believe me i have. in fact, i even said that they didnât need this job! but, well, you know how stubborn your mama can be. they wouldnât even hear of it! i hope you and the other children can persuade them but⊠before that time comes, letâs just support your mama in whatever they want.â the child nods in understanding. they are, after all, the shining example of all their children. they remind him of himself back when he was still under the previous fatherâs care. âi will try, father. mama has promised to bring cake and have tea time with us when they get off their job so⊠maybe.â âhehe, your mama really loves you all so. have fun then, dear~â
[ âwhat do you mean the children have been acting strangely? maybe youâre tired from all that work youâre doingâŠâ ]
â YEARNING FOR UNSEEN DEPTHS. freminet | ăăŹăă
[ âeven though i am the way that i am⊠i hope i can always make you happy, like you make me.â ]
âą your sweet, sweet husband! heâs always hiding those shy blue eyes behind his pale blonde hair, head hunched over some mechanical device or seeking respite in his diving helmet. even after all these years together and eventually getting married, heâs still so shy when it comes to initiating physical contact. someone in this relationship has to, and so it seems to fall on your shoulders to get the hugs and kisses the two of you deserve. itâs not like youâre complaining, not when you can hear that precious squeak when you wrap your arms around his delicate waist and press a giggle-kiss onto his neck while heâs cooking up breakfast.
âą heâs a bit insecure about his role in your marriage. it has nothing to do with being a housewife, really! itâs just that⊠once youâre gone, heâs just so totally lost. at least when youâre there with him he can feel human again instead of some clockwork puppet rusting at home. you would guide him and tell him on what to do instead of him alone fretting and fussing over what he should do and if he would even get it right. you would never hurt him, and yet you get a bit concerned whenever you arrive home and freminet is there waiting for you with his hands nervously wrung together. you have to assure him that you would never get mad at such a sweet and dutiful housewife! only a monster would! and freminet knows that youâre anything but a monster.
âą you wouldnât be able to tell by his face, but whenever you show him off to your co-workers and friends, heâs so over the moon that itâs a wonder he can contain himself. hearing you call him by such sicky-sweet names like âhoney, dearie, baby, lovelyâ while bragging about him has him hiding his face, but itâs only because he feels like the smile on his face looks so stupid! the others gag while you drone on and on about how pretty and amazing your partner is and freminet can only look down on his lap and clenched fists as he squirms in his seat. knowing that you adore him as much as he adores you⊠it makes his heart beat a mile per minute, something he thought would never happen before he met you.
âą heâs deathly scared of losing you. without you, he fears that heâll revert back to his old selfâ that soulless, emotionless human more akin to a robot than a person. all his life he thought he would be better off unfeeling and wishing to be born with gears than a heart, but you came by and showed him how colorful life could be with the right person. he doesnât want to lose you, but heâs so incompetent, so clumsy, so socially inept⊠how could he ever compare to the wonderful brilliant you?
âą he hopes you donât hate him when he gets rid of these better, more amazing people. theyâre usually your co-workers, sometimes strangers whoâve caught your eye, rarely ever your friends (he doesnât want to make you unhappy). killing is rare for him and something he doesnât do on a whim, but he fears that once you surround yourself with so many brilliant people youâll see him for the failure that he is. so, even if it is only a temporary solution, he dons the diving mask and takes them out at the perfect timing. he was raised to be the perfect assassin, so in theory, he doesnât have to worry about getting caughtâ
âą â except that you know him better than he knows himself. you have a talent for seeing through him that he gets scared that youâll immediately sus out what heâs done the moment he walks through the door. on these days, he gets clingy and more affectionate, trying to make up for what heâs done. itâs a pleasant surprise to see your taciturn husband fling himself at you and nuzzle his head in your chest without further explanation. usually, people would demand an explanation for the sudden change of behavior⊠but why would you? youâre not going to complain if freminet decides to shower you with love out of nowhere! freminet in turn is just glad that youâre the way you are. youâve invested so much love and resources into him⊠he doesnât want to waste all of that and throw it all away.
âyouâre so cute!â you giggle as you spin freminet around, still cuddled into your chest and pale arms around your torso. âwhatâs with the sudden love bomb? gosh, how were you born so cute! it doesnât make sense!â you pepper kisses onto his face as you press him against the sofa, delighting in the way he tries to cover the blush on his freckled cheeks at your over-affectionate behavior. ân-nothing, reallyâŠâ he mumbles, peeking at you through his fingers as you continue to shower him with pecks. youâve loosened your tie and your white button-down has been wrinkled thoroughly by this sudden love fest. âi just⊠i love you, [your name]. i love you a lot.â you hum happily at his confession. this was nothing that you didnât know, but it was still delightful to hear. you hear him suck in a breath, hesitating, before finally letting it out, âdoâ do you love me tooâŠ?â you cease your incessant kissing just to raise a brow at him, an incredulous look on your face. he reddens even further. he knows itâs a stupid question. how could anyone with two eyes ever question your love for your blonde husband? but still⊠he wants to hear it. even if heâs heard it from you this morning, and the day before, and every day before that⊠he wants to hear it now. âi love you, silly.â you boop him on the nose, flopping yourself beside him on the couch. he turns to look at you, his ice-blue eyes peering up at you through long lashes. âalways have, always will.â you thread your fingers together. his hands, unlike the rest of him, are calloused and rough. hardened by those years of diving, perhaps? or something else? nevertheless, you press his hand to your lips and look at him. âiâll say it as many times as you want.â you watch as those eyes, usually so taciturn and shy, tear up at your confession. you were so loving, so wonderful⊠he could hardly believe that you were his. âthank you⊠thank you, [your name], i justâŠâ he lets out a choked laugh, a rare smile breaking out on those delicate features. âi donât know⊠i just feel stupid today.â you hum in understanding, pressing another kiss to each of his fingers while he watches you. ârough day?â you ask, and he simply nods, not wanting to elaborate further. itâs okay. more than okay. you could guess by the metallic tang blooming on your lips on how exactly his day went.
[ âplease⊠please donât hate me⊠you donât deserve this but i⊠but i donât want them to realize what kind of person i am!â ]
â BEYOND MORTALITY. baizhu | çœæŻ
[ âlook at those dark circles⊠donât prioritize your career over your health, okay? do it for me?â ]
âą baizhu is always fussing over your health despite being the sickly one, but you suppose thatâs in line with him being a doctor. your pretty husband has relocated his clinic to your new home together and continues to enjoy a steady stream of his loyal customers. you worry about baizhu overworking himself while youâre at work, but him being at home puts you at ease. at least changsheng will be able to quickly guide him to bed whenever his chronic illness flares up and he has little qiqi with him⊠actually, you think youâre more worried about qiqi.
âą being married to baizhu comes with the benefit of welcoming qiqi and changsheng into your family. he treats qiqi like his own child despite being an amnesiac girl that he picked off his streets that youâve grown to also care for her like she was your own daughter. baizhu tells you that you neednât spoil her so much; sheâll probably forget to put on the new dress you bought for her, but he canât tell you what to do! baizhu enjoys seeing you fawn over the child, watching in amusement as you desperately try to make her remember your name. itâs been a tough journey, but you are over the moon once she calls you mama/papa. that does make baizhu a tad jealous, something that changsheng teases him about. after all, heâs been with qiqi longer!
âą the two of you enjoy your quiet moments together. when night has fallen and qiqi has retired to her room, the two of you sit in the living room as you prepare for another dayâs work. only his rustling of prescription papers and your hurried tapping on the keyboard can be heard; not a single conversation passes between you two. even changsheng has drifted off to sleep in the midst of this silence. finishing the last email for the day, you stretch and look to see how baizhu is doing. as always, heâs always so pretty focused on the task before him. his hair is still braided in its usual fashion, and you settle behind him and slowly detangle his locks. he doesnât glance at you, but he hums in appreciation. his hair, oiled and trimmed at changshengâs insistence, is soft and glossy as you brush it while you wait for him to finish up.
âą although heâs lauded by his patients as kind and selfless, those who donât know him would think that he has an odd air about him. maybe itâs because his eyes contain a hidden cunning that the people you introduce him to becomes rather wary of him. or is it the way that he talks all politely but with a subtle bite to them? you donât know why he becomes rather passive-aggressive when you invite someone over to your home, but youâre so enthralled by this change of behavior that you forget to scold him for it. your friends complain about the way baizhu looks at them from head to toe like heâs assessing them. you have to explain that itâs actually a doctorâs habit, some sort of medical procedure⊠or so baizhu explained once.
âą physical ailments are his expertise, mental illnesses he can refer his patients to another doctor, but stupdity is a disease that unfortunately cannot be cured. before he married you, he abhorred the disgusting feelings that stirred inside him whenever he sees you smile at another person. but now that he has married you and you have proclaimed yourself as his, heâs thrown away all self-disgust now that his jealousy has been justified. itâs human nature to feel possessive over someone that is his by right. for your sake, he tries to be as civil as possible⊠though it becomes impossible whenever he hears them complain about him to you whenever they think heâs out of earshot.
âą if they refuse to give the two of you some space, then baizhu surmises that he will have to do it himself. herbal concoctions are his thing, after all. who said it needed to be medicine? changsheng hisses in amusement as he mashes herbs together out in the lawn while youâre snoring away in bed. her eyes flicker to baizhu, face shadowed by the dark of night. before you, heâs always been so civil and logical. aside from his frail constitution, changsheng thinks that his marriage to you might have given her partner another malady.
âhey, baizhu, somethingâs up with guanxi,â is the first thing you sat when you come back from work. changsheng watches as the doctorâs eye twitches before he forces his lips to smile warmly to greet you. you peck your husband on the cheek. âheâs been coughing and hacking blood since yesterday.â âoh my,â he says in a tone thatâs supposed to sound concerned. âthat is concerning. go contact him to see when heâs available and iâll squeeze him into my schedule tomorrow.â you start tp dial his number on your phone, before you stop and after a few seconds of thinking, shake your head. ânah⊠that wouldnât work. he gets very awkward around you. says you give him the creeps. i donât get it! youâre like, the most perfect being to exist.â baizhu giggles when you cup his head into your palms as you admire the beauty that is your husband. you slyly smile and whisper. âdonât tell him, but just for that, i gave him twice more work than he had to do.â and people think heâs sly. they should see you! baizhu laughs at your show of devotion and presses a kiss into one of your palms. ânow, now. you canât make all your friends like me the way you adore me so. but, well⊠call it coincidence, but i did make your favorite today.â you gasp in delight. âis this my gift for avenging my darling wife?!â he rolls his eyes at your dramatic antics and pinch your cheeks fondly. âmmm, call it a⊠hm, a celebration feast.â
[ âoh my, and i just had the prescription for that as well. people should trust their local doctors more.â ]
#yandere genshin impact x reader#genshin impact#yandere x reader#male yandere#yandere neuvillette#yandere wriothesley#yandere lyney#yandere freminet#yandere baizhu#yester.writes#yester.au â househusbands đ
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let me in.
peter parker x male reader.
summary: peter struggles to balance between life and work, and it's ruining his relationship with you.
wc: 6.6k. genre: smut. warnings: andrew!peter, college au, established relationship, brief fighting, brief injury and blood mention (nosebleed), misunderstandings, peter reveals his identity, dry-humping, over the pants (or suit) handjob, body worshipping, lots of sweat, fingering, frotting, riding, spandex fetish, reader has a thing for peter in his spider-man suit!

You were starting to feel antsy. You could feel itâthe nerves kicking in again. Anticipationâa suspension of doubtâmade your hands clammy at first, but it was the time that made your hands clutch nothing but air. You rubbed the sweat off your hands onto your pants, your knees not so comforting with their pointedness.
Acceptanceâwhen it was evident that Peter was late, again.
Birthdays have never been a big deal in your family. Sure, it was great that you had the privilege to live another year. To witness yourself grow older, to stand a few inches taller, to live a little more knowledgeable than yesterday. But growing up with parents who had to constantly work, well-late into the depths of night, it had never been more than a birthday wish that had greeted you in the mornings, and bid you slumber in the evenings. Since then, you knew not to expect anything.
If only Peter hadnât made such a big deal out of it this year.
âExcuse me?â The familiar timbre of a voice speared your thoughts; deep and tunneling as you were transfixed on the glasses of water before you. Yours had been refilled, though a little sparse compared to Peterâs full cup.
Your eyes widened with feigned curiosity, a small smile plastered alongside to hopefully negate any annoyance from the waiterâbecause you expected what he was about to follow up with.
âHey⊠uh,â he shifted on his feet awkwardly, eye bags weighing heavier than the last time he had checked up on you. You looked around, surprised by the amount of patrons who had filled the space around you while you were daydreaming. Laughter and smiles completely lit up the room. The dim lights were practically stationed in the restaurant for decoration, and seemingly to spotlight your âdinner for oneâ status. âIâm sorry, but⊠we have no more tables to fill, and if you arenât ordering soon, then weâll have to give your table up for the next party...â
It was obvious that you werenât, you hadnât even torn into the buttery bread rolls that were piping hot forty-five minutes ago. Now, the fat had solidified into spotty, yellow clumps, though you doubt that wouldâve been enough to detract from the quality of the rolls.
âOh, Iââ You pulled out your phone to check your messages again. Nothing. Swiped down to refresh your conversation with Peter. The loading icon felt like it took forever, you half-expected that your phone was updating the thread with Peterâs messages that somehow got lost in the void of the restaurantâs spotty signal.Â
And nothing.
âIâyeah⊠uh. I-Iâll head out.â It was embarrassing. Even if the waiter had given you a sympathetic smile, you hated knowing that you wasted his time. You hated that you selfishly occupied a seat when someone else wouldâve been done with dinner by the time you exited.Â
âThanksââÂ
You hated that you had your hopes up for things to be different.
Again.
The night was dreary. Not even the wind had greeted you like the others when you stepped out. Soft and fluttering against your skin, but scolding enough to make you put your coat back on. Luckily, your apartment wasnât too far from the restaurant, a fifteen minute walk at most if you speed-walked. Shoving your hands in your coat pockets, you then ambled along the sidewalks, wallowing in your feelings with a playlist that belted in your ears once you plugged your earbuds in.Â
You didnât have the energy left to hurry home.
Once you crossed the last intersection, you felt a little bit more at ease. Seeing the familiar apartment complex at the end of the block picked your pace up a step more. You paused your music once you neared the entrance, just a turn away before you could finally bury yourself in your bed.Â
You reached into your pocket to grab your wallet. The weight in your palms instantly reminding you to deposit the cash tips sometime soon before the stretch of the leather had become unbearable to fit in your pocket.Â
Your walk slowed as your attention was fixated on your wallet, fumbling it open clumsily to retrieve your keycard. In midst, you caught a glimpse of a photo print of you and Peter, standing shoulder to shoulder with the biggest grins as Peter had a peace sign above your head, doubling as bunny ears. Honeymoon phase, theyâd call it. Where you were beginning to discover more about Peter, and Peter was beginning to discover more about you. Likes. Dislikes. Hobbies. Memories. It felt like yesterday when you two were spending every second of your day with each other.Â
Now, it would be a miracle if Peter returned a call.
With the keycard in your hand, you turned the corner, and towards the entrance, the smiles from the photo print reflecting onto yours as you could vividly hear Peterâs pleas to retake them again. The flash of the cameras always made him blink.
If only you had been focusing on where you were going instead of the still image of the first memory between you and Peter, maybe you could have avoided the collision altogether when you approached the door. You suddenly found yourself on your back, facing the night sky as clusters of stars twinkled in laughter. There was a slight throbbing to your forehead, a mark youâd reckon would appear as purple within the next 12 hours despite the painless⊠pain.
âOh godâ Iâm so, so, so, sorry! Let meââ If the beating your face took to the door hadnât snapped you back to reality already, the familiar face before you certainly pulled you out of your thoughts like whiplash once he helped you back onto your feet. Your vision instantly cleared of haze, as if his simple presence was your remedy.
â(M/N)?â Peter interrupted himself, his eyes widening. You could see the wheels turning in his head when the dim light spotlighted your features: eyes, nose, lips; flesh and bone that he was well-acquainted with.
âPeterââ You took a moment to scan him. It was like all the other times he had been late. His fringe; stuck to his forehead with a mixture of sweat and water, the latter being a last resort to clean himself up. His knuckles; bruised and torn with minuscule cuts barely able to conceal the truth behind his scars. His necktie; clumsily done with the knots coming loose. Though, whether the silk unfurled by Peterâs own sloppiness, or by the increasing frailty of his fingers that had become susceptible by even the most delicate material of neckties; it was futile to mention it to him. You knew heâd shut you down with another excuse.
âW-what are you doing here? Are you okay? I-Iâm so sorryâI was on my way to you andâOh god, youâre bleeding!â Breathless, panting, not only because he was panicking from running late.Â
But because of adrenaline. You could see it in his eyes. The alertness. The high.
âWhatââ You wiped your nose with the back of your hand, only to see a smear of blood blotted across your skin. âShit.âÂ
Another thick drop splattered in greeting.
âPeter, itâs a nosebleed. Youâre acting like I had my arm chopped off or something.â Youâve been applying pressure to your nasal bridge, pinching it tightly to barricade the stream of blood. All while you had your head tilted over Peterâs sink, in case of the blood leaking past your hold. âAnd how long does it take to find a cotton ball?â
âIâm tryingââ His one-sided game of hide and seek with the bag of cotton balls was leaning in favor of the latter. Medicine cabinet: empty. Bedside drawer: foreign coins and bills. You were watching him from the corner of your eye, a small limp to his step when the lightbulb seemingly lit up overhead and had him dashing towards the kitchen.Â
âFound it!â
Peterâs touch was delicate. Tender, like the forming bruise on your forehead. He was adamant on taking care of you, even if franklyâyou wouldâve done it much faster had it been a solo endeavor. Cotton balls were plugged up into your nose, and a warm face towel was laid across your forehead. If an intruder had the audacity to rob Peterâs apartment, youâd imagine you would find yourself lucking out. Peter joked that you looked like patient zero.
âAll done. See? Nothing to cry about.â He was joking again, the smug smile across his face a clear indication of itâand the laugh that he couldnât help but contain.
âHa. Ha. Thanks, Dr. Parker. Now, how much do I owe you? Iâm paying outta pocket.â For a brief moment, you forgot that you were upset earlier. All because of how nice it was to actually see him again. He pressed a kiss to your lips, a comforting gesture if his constant apologies werenât enough. Stay focus.Â
âSo, about dinnerâŠâ
âOh,â Disappointment softened Peterâs smile. You could see it tightening, even as he was organizing his room. Though, it was really a matter of tossing his clothes on the floor back into the laundry basket. âListen, my⊠bike got stolen andââ
âPeterâŠâ You sighed, pinching your nose bridge because you feared another avalanche of a nosebleed incoming. That, and because it helped you maintained your composure. âYou said that the last time. Three times, actually.â
âThird timeâs⊠the charm?â He was joking. Again. But even he wasnât laughing at it because heâd been cornered. Called out. Embarrassed that he thought that would even work on you. Embarrassed that he thought he could get away with it.Â
Again.
âPeter.â You called out, straightening your posture against the headboard of the bed when he sat at the end of the mattress. Shit, itâs happening.
âI⊠I donât know how toâŠâ The veins in his hands, they lined perfectly to the cuts, scrapes, and bruises on his knuckles. Clear as day now that he wasnât hidden under a dim light. âI justâŠâ
He had his hands around his face, rubbing his temples, his cheeks, his nose, anything that could alleviate the accelerating drill of his heartbeat.Â
You were hopeful to get an answer out of him. A proper explanation. But it pained you, knowing that in a few secondsâwhat he would tell you would only confirm your yearning suspicions of his strange behavior.
He doesnât love you anymore. Heâs cheating. Youâve become a nuisance, an absolute bore in his life. Actually, youâre a bad influence on him. Youâre holding him back. He needs to let go of you to accomplish better things. He never loved you.
Itâs happening. Itâs fucking happening. All he has to do is say those words. The dreaded five words youâve heard once from him in a nightmare.
I want to break up.
âIf you want to break up, just say it.âÂ
It sounded softer in your head, but the tears that had welled in your eyes finally bursted into droplets. They ran down your cheeks, and your voice broke during its pursuit.Â
Something commanded you to let those words slip out.Â
Maybe it was the ghost that you and him had been theorizing about since the night youâve helped him move into the apartment floor above you. Carrie; you nicknamed her, and Peter would scold you for doing so because he had the suspicions that giving her a backstory would ultimately reassess his home as a possessing ground. To this day, he swore he saw a shadow looming in the corner of his room on a perfectly stormy night.
Or maybe it was the months of frustration that you had accumulated, snowballed because of your own selfish reasons to continue being with Peter for as long as you could, even if you saw the signs, because you couldnât bear to see yourself without him. Live, when you two had promised so many futures together.
âWhat? No, (M/N), thatâs notââ He jolted up at the mere mention of separating from you. There was a chill. The room suddenly felt colder, and then warmerâscorching hot, when the glossiness of your gaze reflected into his. He began joining you by your side. âHey, hey, I would neverââ
He broke into a cold sweat. Heâd never seen you like this. And to think that he was the root of thisâof your painâit was all overwhelming.
âPeter, thereâs always something going on with you. Y-you donât text me for days. You ignore my calls. You disappear without telling me. Youâre always late. And⊠youâre always hurt? And you think that Iâm dumb enough to not notice that you arenât? How youâre limping? How youâre always bruised andâFor godâs sake, Peter, Iâm just as smart as you, we have the same GPA andââ You took a breather, a gulp because you were rambling now. Your cheeks felt hot, from your sudden outburst and from embarrassment, because the latter half of your rant immediately negated the idea of some kind of affair.
âOkay, maybe you arenât cheating, butââ You felt him tug you into his arms, but you wouldnât budge. Instead, you pushed away, edging to the other side of the bed to face him.
âI would never.â He sighed, his arms dropping as soon as you removed yourself from his embrace.Â
âThen what is it? Youâre leaving me in the dark here. I barely see you anymore, you know that?â
âI know.â He was biting his lips. Chewing, as if he was internally debating something. A decision that could either ruin you, ruin him, or both.
âThen?â
You waited. Watched his fingers fiddle with one another as he continued turning the screws in his head. Your heart would jump whenever he would open his mouth, anticipating whatever had caused so much turmoil in his life, but there was a last minute decision that kept him silent.
Crickets.
Nothing.
âI donât⊠I donât know what youâre doing. But youâre getting hurt and Iâm just⊠worried.â Your gaze dropped to his hands again. Pale, veiny, and full of life yet theyâve looked like theyâve been worn out. Torn. âAt least tell me itâs not gambling.â
âWellâin a way with my life, it kind of is like gamblingââ He thinly smiled, hoping it would at least make you crack a smile.
âPeter!â You scoffed, nudged his side with your elbow out of frustration, then surrendered when you brought your knees up to your chest, and buried your head in between your knees. âNot funny.â
âOkay, okay, just⊠you canât tell anyone.â His voice softened.
âWe all know that between you and I, youâre the one with the running mouth.â Your voice muffled in the space between your legs, hands tucked around your nape.
âIâm serious, (M/N)â Pleading now, he held your hand in hopes to get ahold of your attention again, squeezing so youâd look at him. You do.
âI wonât tell.â It was a promise. Peter didnât need you to clarify because he could see it in your eyes, honest and sincere. Determined, as if you were willing to protect him.
âOkay⊠and also, donât⊠freak out.â Peter was off the bed now, wandering in the middle of his room as he rolled his shoulders back, relaxing the muscles in his back like a wrestler preparing for his next fight. He gestured for you to follow him out to the stairway, out into the cold.Â
âWhy would I freakââ There was something around his wrist. No, wrists. You thought they were watches, but there were two devices around him. They were strapped with a similar black leather to your wallet, to Peterâs, and a red button protruded in the middle of it. âPeter, what are youââ
You stopped a few feet before Peter, watching him closely, yet afar. Afraid, yet intrigued. Concerned, because he was on the ledge of the staircase now, perched like an animal. Yet there was a grin on his face. Not crazed like a madman considering he was acting like one, but foolish. Goofy, giddy like the times heâd hide stuff from you, and wait until youâd notice it was gone.
âLike I said, donât freak out.âÂ
âPeter, what are you evenââ
With that, he opened his arms like wings that spanned across his back and flipped into the air as if the wind would carry him across city to city. As if he was recruited as a sponsor to the heavenly gods with the incredible height heâd taken off in, pursuing the clouds, the wind, the stars, and the night simultaneously all in multiple slings.
Into. The. Air.
Into the fucking air.
You raced forward with a yelp, as if you wouldâve made it in time to catch him. To catch his hand before he fell. To hold him one last time before heâd land on the ground and shatter every bone in his body.
If he had landed.Â
No, you blinked onceâtwiceâno, at least in the double digits because this was all a dream. It was all a dream, right? That you caught a glimpse of Peter somehow slingshotting himself from window to window, from rooftop to satellite, like it was a mundane day job one had to endure to put food on the table, to pay the bills.
Right?
You paced around the stairs, raced towards one floor to another, bending over the railings becauseâPeter disappeared. He was gone. If he had smashed into something, you wouldâve heard him. You wouldâve heard him in yelp in pain. You wouldâve heard the metal railings shake. You wouldâve heard him cry for help.Â
Instead, you heard the sound of wind. Whistling as it sailed leaves to the west of you.Â
As if it carried a hint along the way.
âPeter?! PeterâFuck, fuck!â You followed the sound of the whistle. The source of the pitchy sound. Fluttering when your head spun closer to the note, wavering when you were getting colder, then peaking when your gaze lifted, higher, and higher, until it landed on him.
Peter.
Peter, perched over the rooftop of the apartment complex like a bug. The moonlight framed his silhouette, emphasized the texture of his suit; protruding grids that encased him like a nest; and youâve never been more intimidated.Â
Red and blue spandex tightly-fitted over the muscles and body of the man you have been more than well-acquainted with. Youâve seen it before. It was familiar. On the news, on the papers, on the internet.
âYouâre freaking out!â He yelled out, clearly amused in your frozen state of shock.
He peered over at you with a smug grin, aimed directly at your bafflement before pulling a mask over his head. It was the icing on top in rendering you utterly incapable of stringing up any words. The lens of his mask reflected off of you, mirrored your astonishment in clear display, and you sensed that would be a memory Peter would be carrying to his death bed.
âWhat. The. Fuck.â
âOkay, so, just to clarify,â You were winded, still recovering from the heart attack Peter had nearly given you after he took you on for a stroll in the night. Into the sky.
Luckily his bed was right beside you. As soon as your legs gave out, you fell back into his mattress, and stared into the ceiling, speechless. Peter joined you after, bringing you into his arms. Heâd always been aware that touching you in any way or form brought you back to reality. âYou are⊠not a cosplayer?â
âHonestly? That would make me way more money than what Iâm making right now.â You couldnât keep your hands or eyes off of him. Peter was still in his suit, and that gave you the perfect opportunity to run your hands over the webbed texture of the spandex.
âJust a few more months until my lease is up. I can move in, and thatâll help with the rent. For both of us.â It felt like silicone, or rubber. Whatever it was, it was durable considering how thin it felt in your fingers when you rubbed it in between them.
âJust like that? Youâre not mad?â Your hands came to a halt when Peter suddenly took them, and rested your palm on his cheek, coincidentally on the cut that youâve never noticed.Â
âWhy would I be mad?â Quieter. Your voice mellowed into a whisper as you catalogued the amount of beatings his skin had taken. Caressed the marks you were too selfish to notice. Exhaustion wore on his face, and yet he never looked so peaceful as he gazed into your eyes.Â
Pretty eyes, Peter thought. Ones that could motivate him to get back up after falling. That feels nice, when you pressed a kiss to his damaged skin. A touch that made him believe there was a reason to suffer, to be great, to be all of this.
âWell, for starters, itâs your birthday and⊠I completely blew it.â Peter closed his eyes when you began brushing his hair back, knotted in cold sweats, but you fanned your fingers out to undo them until they felt somewhat tidy in your strokes. Smooth and soft. He sighed, âAgain.â
âCanât entirely blame you. How would I look if I were to complain about missing you, when youâre out there risking your life for everyone?â It wasnât a question, but you wanted him to look at you. To respond. And he does, when you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, and he returned it with a silken one, a following grin. âAll I wish for was that you told me sooner, I guess.â
âYeah,â He figured heâd save the details of the âfriendsâ he had made along the way some other time. For now, it was all about you. âWow, youâre not even going to wish for me to be safe?â
âHey, you know what I mean! Thatâs a given.â You rubbed at his chest, finding yourself quickly accustomed to the scales of his costume. The red was striking against your palms, comforting almost.Â
âStill. I want to hear you say it.â Peter rolled onto his side and slipped an arm under your back, scooting closer to you. His signature goofy grin never failed to knock a similar one out of you. And unwillingly drawn out, when he began pinching at your sides in quick snips.
âStopââ You laughed, your hands occupying themselves to defend your body from his quick attacks. But Peter was fast, avoiding your arms and hands to find another opening that youâd abandon. âStop, stop! Stay safe! Happy?!â
Closer and closer, you found yourself beneath him, framed by his body as he took your arms above your head and pinned them secured with his tight grasps.âIncredibly.â
Your legs spread open to make room for his body, only for Peter to wrap them around his waist, to press his body into you, kissing you like he was driven to steal your breath.
âThis your way of making it up to me?â You broke apart from the kiss, only briefly, before the taste of Peter, the softness of his lips reeled you back in for another kiss. Languidly paced until oneâs accelerating lust for one another had taken ahold of the wheel and shifted gears, into a weightiness that kept your mouth parted open while Peterâs impulse to explore you had become evidently clear.
âProblem with that?â Heâd been driving his hips into you, grinding his front with your own. Both clothed, infuriatingly covered, but the pressure in between your bulge and Peterâs was too pleasing to ignore. Too satisfying to make him stop. âI should take this offââ
âNo, waitââ You grabbed his forearm when he reached back to unzip his suit. To be honest, you never thought about how he even got in or out of the suit in the first place, but that was beside the point. Something about this suit, this costume, whatever you wanted to call it; it was a turn-on.Â
The way it fit snug against Peterâs body; how every fiber of muscle was stretching the material to its limit. Maybe you were just turned on because you associated it with him being a hero. For godâs sake, that was as much of an aphrodisiac one could be if you happened to be saved from a falling tower.Â
Or maybe, it was simply how Peter looked in it. Unabashedly handsome, yet himself, seemingly courting you further into his webs, as if he hadnât already from day one.
âKeep it on. I like it.â You muttered, fiddling with the collar of his suit. It was snapped on tight, but you managed to slip a finger or two past, to pull at it with a stretch.
âThen how are we going toâŠâ He abandoned the few inches he had unzipped, providing a small relief to the squeeze around his body while his broad back was bare and tense towards the ceiling.Â
âThen, youâll take it off. But for now, I just want toâŠâ One hand was on his nape, pulling him down for another heated kiss, while the other traveled south between your body and his. Further, lower, until you cupped him at his crotch. Rubbing, squeezing, and palming at the thick, growing center. âWant to try somethingâŠâ
You could feel him smiling, a crooked one flattened against your own grin when he whispered, âI shouldâve told you sooner, shouldnât I.â
âYou think?â
You were getting harder, your pants beginning to tighten around the center as you palmed him. It was a heavy handful in the beginning, but Peterâs bulge began to unfurl. It didnât take long, didnât take much of a stroke for him to unravel from his tuck and thicken into a full-blown erection towards the left side of his thigh. It pointed downwards, the plump head evident through his suit, and you were beginning to drool in Peterâs mouth at the haziest image of it.
âCome on, I need to get out of this⊠Itâs killing me.â It wasnât like Peter to beg. It was charming, cute, sexy, all the synonyms that could describe how you felt all day and every day about him, and you squeezed, because he wasnât being patient with you.
âBirthday boy gets what he wants, donât you think?â He winched into your mouth, and you swallowed him. Swallowed every ounce of breath, and breathed it back out with a kiss. Sloppy, heavy, your tongue weighing on his because you wanted to keep his lips apart, mouth open to hear his moans.
Peter grunted again once you began stroking his cock, touching him like it was a delicate plate of chin. Fingertips only, dusting him off with little pressure so he wouldnât shatter.
âWhat are you going to do about it, hm?â You continued your short, limp strokes. âJust going to take it? Hm?â Your wrist was weak, lazy as it became limp to tease him even more. Peter sucked in a breath, doing his best to maintain his composure, but it was all futile, all those attempts of sucking in his lip to chew, to hold back his moans, because youâd slap his clothed cock, grasp it tight in your hand, and massage as much as you could gather.
âFuck, babyââ You had him under your control. Even if his hands were free, you knew he wouldnât lay a finger on you. He knew that if he did, youâd stop touching him, stop stimulating the blood running down every vein of his cock, fueling his erection. His desires.Â
He couldnât let that happen. Not after the day, the week, the months that heâd been having.Â
You and Peter eventually switched places: Peter resting on his back while you sat in between his legs, marveling at the stretch of his suit. Somehow, his cock looked bigger than youâd remember. Squished and pressed flush against his thigh like this. The suit was like a magnet, inviting your hand back to his cock and refusing to let you go.
âJust relax.â You commanded him. He was watching you slouched up against the headboard, gravity weighing his eyelids lower. With his legs spread apart, he provided you excess space as you began massaging his right thigh with your free hand. âIs this okay?â
âMm-hm...â He knew you were talking about the pressure on his thigh, but the strokes over his cock remained supreme in his mind. Championed through as you pressed harder into the shaft, massaging tenderly from vein to vein. The protruding webbed texture of his suit pressed into him, rolled against cock like the inside of a fleshlight, ultimately adding onto the already gratifying pleasure.Â
It was glorious.
âMoreâŠâ Peter gritted through his teeth, a selfish need for more escaping from his lips in huffs. Grunts, when youâd fulfill his wish with two hands now, kneading his cock like dough.Â
Thick, stiff, throbbing dough.
Before the complaints could come pouring in, you shimmied your pants off in a hurry, tossing it in the corner before greedily climbing onto Peterâs lap. It was like he read your mind, perhaps another secret that heâd been hiding, because he immediately took you into his arms. An embrace, a tight one that grounded you against his bulge, pressing your body weight until it restricted the blood flowing into his erection, as well as preventing an escape.
âYouâre so hardâŠâ You marveled at how rigid heâd gotten under you, grinding your ass against the large mass, beating and throbbing with every rut.
âIâm so hard.â He confirmed, complained, and bragged all in one smile. He then took you by the nape to kiss you again. Hard on the mouth, slow with his tongue to taste you and your desires, his desires. His other hand rested on the small of your back, guiding your grinds at first before his fingers looped into your waistband, tugging once before stuffing the strap under your ass cheeks. Your hard-on was the only thing keeping the cotton material from slipping off while you continued grating your hips. âJust like thatâŠâ
To make it easier for you, Peter repositioned his erection so it was facing north, towards his navel, in its sublime mass. Your briefs had been tossed to the side now, completely bare bottomed against him while you mounted over him, and rode in needy strides. It was a sight to behold, something that Peter reckoned he should savor. He folded his arms behind his head, providing a self-made cushion for the weight of it, and watched you. It was entrancing, like a dance. You swiveled your hips to a ghosting rhythm, one that could only be heard between two hearts, two parties, between the two of you, man to man.
âLike thisâŠ?â Breathless, you unbuttoned your shirt open, but left it present on your body. Sweat formed over your neck, dribbled down to your bare and exposed chest; it was practically an open-invitation for Peter to ravish you. And so he did, with a haunting groan as he held you, contained you in the warmth of his arms as he simultaneously pulled you forward, and pushed himself off the headboard to meet you in the middle.
He kissed you on the neck, achingly hard when he sucked, and then enthralling, sweat-inducing when he bit into your skin. He couldnât contain himself. You tasted too good, and itâd been too long since he had you just like this. âJust like that. Your cock against my cock, fuck. I love it so fucking much.â He muttered hot against your neck, panting because he was sweating too. The spandex felt tighter on his skin, constricting against him with every drop of sweat.
âOh, fuckâŠâ His lips had latched onto your nipples now. Peterâs tongue worked magic on your two nubs, flicking and swirling over their perkiness until you felt swollen. Raw, when he bit, pulled, bit, and bit again. You buried your face into his hair, rocking yourself back and forth with your arms holding him close to your chest, gliding your cock against his print as if a gun was pointed to your head, like your life depended on making Peter come.
You were delirious, humping Peter without a single thought other than to get him off, and youâd reckon that was the goal lingering in Peterâs head as he began rocking back into you. It took a while for him to find your rhythm, chasing after it in slower, sluggish beats, but eventually he caught up to you, snapping his hips against your own, grinding his cock against yours like two crescent moons caressing the otherâs curvature.
âCloseâŠâ He muttered into your shoulder. Your shirt was hanging off, exposing more of your skin, but Peter made sure you didnât feel a single chill with the marks he had followed up with soon after. It was like he had done it on purpose. Made you feel safe in his arms, comfortable in the warmth of his body, worshiped with the amount of care he had given your body. Frozen, when you felt something prod at your pucker. Then enraptured, when Peter pushed a wet finger inside of you.Â
Tremors, chilling tremors ran down your spine as you took the single digit Inside of you with one determined push. âFuckââ Your back arched, chest pushed forward towards him, and your hips jolted forward in one strong, and delicious swipe against Peterâs cock. âPeterâŠâ
It was a mouthwatering display of food before him. The perky nubs on your chest, the veins in your neck, the mole on your body, the strain of your thighs on overdrive, the swollen head of your cock; Peter didnât know what to lay his finger on first, what to mouth on, what to kiss, and suck, and latch onto until youâd scream. Whichever it was, he knew you were desperate for him. Begging, sweating, whimpering, for Peter to lay a finger on you. Another finger inside of you now, and you rolled your eyes at the stretch he was providing you with, a fulfilling wish that startled your hips once more.
âYouâre so good, so good for meâŠâ Peter was staring up at you, marveling at the layer of sweat on your body. It glistened with every movement, dripped heavily with every thrust of Peterâs fingers, and tasted just like how he remembered. Salty when he licked up your neck, up your chest, against your nipples, and repeated. Your body was his, and Peter was determined to let the world know. Determined to remind you in case that youâd forgotten.
Your hands were wandering. Grabbing and touching at anything and everything that could linger in between your fingers. Peterâs hair, his head, shoulders, chest, your cock and his, his back. Everything. You couldnât keep your hands off of him. Even if he was covered from head to toe, you were touching him. Because he was yours.
âGonna comeââ You cupped Peterâs jaw to straighten his posture, to kiss him sloppily on the mouth, and he pulled his fingers out of you, resting them on either side of your hips as he joined you once again in grinding hips. The pleasure was overbearing, drilling into each individual brain until the smallest movement would render you both speechless. Panting in slurred moans of each otherâs names, of profanities that you two had rarely used in your lifetime on earth.
âMe tooâŠâ Peter pushed himself on top of you now. Your arms were tied around his neck, tighter than the necktie he had on prior, and your legs; they wrapped around his waist equally secured, if not even tighter, as he thrusted against you.Â
You were too distracted, unable to respond to Peterâs constant licks in your mouth. He was desperate for you, suckling on your tongue and chasing after it once it slipped out because of your moans. They were rattling, each breath immediately vaulted in the back of Peterâs throat because he couldnât part from you. Couldnât imagine a life where he would. And if he had to, at least heâd have a part of you inside of him. Even if it was a whisper.Â
He thrusted harder, panting into your mouth, his nose practically smushed flat against yours. He wondered if you could imagine that life, a life without him.
âP-PeteâShit, Iâmââ Your fingers dug into his nape, grounding him impossibly closer to you when that feeling had suddenly come to stun you in place.Â
It simmered hard in your stomach, then to a rolling boil as it traveled lower to your pelvis. You squeezed your stomach, clenched your toes, and your eyes widened when Peterâs hips showed no signs of faltering. Your cock swelled and your balls jolted, tightened, until you finally saw stars bursting into flames and let gravity have it come crashing down on you. Shivers had you enclose your arms around Peter, holding onto him tight as you felt yourself crumble and spill all over your chest and his suit. You came with a gritted grunt of his name, sinking your nails into his nape because you had nowhere else to channel your spasms as Peter kept rocking against you, drunkenly astonished by how you came for him. By how much you needed him.
It didnât take long before Peter came right after. He buried his head into your neck, stifling moans into the heat of your neck, clammy with sweat, yet comforting as he filled the inside of his suit with thick, large loads. You felt his cock throb against you when you reached down to help, to ride out his orgasm to the fullest. His cock pulsed as youâd imagine several thick pumps of his load would gush out and uncomfortably layer his navel. If only his suit hadnât been waterproof, because there was no doubt that he wouldâve been leaking out of it by now.
Youâve never been so jealous of spandex.
He was hot in your ear, panting, breathing you in, then breathing you out as you slowed the strokes on his softening cock. Then a sudden inhale, a jolt of his body, when you squeezed hard, to seal the deal in covering the entirety of his cock in his own cum. It was filthy. It was shameless. It was Peter.
âDriving me crazy hereâŠâ Peter sluggishly lifted himself off of you to face you, a sleepy smile plastered across his face as you kept kneading at his cock, increasingly sensitive with every second.
âNot enough to drive you away, right?â You smiled, drowsy yourself as you quickly found your high coming to a crash. Though, you mustered enough strength to hold Peterâs cheek in your palm, tenderly caressing, to which he immediately kissed as soon as it reintroduced itself.Â
Peter sighed, holding your gaze for what felt like minutes, and yet you wished it could be for longer.Â
It was different this time, the way he looked at you. The same amount of love and warmth, yes. But they no longer wavered, no longer tried to find something else to look at in case you were prying about.Â
âNever.âÂ
Instead, they stilled, relaxed the longer you stared into him, into those brown eyes of his, because you were in now.Â
You were finally in his life.
How much you needed him? His question had been answered.
nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
#peter parker x reader#peter parker x male reader#peter parker x m!reader#x male reader#peter parker fic#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#peter parker fanfic#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker imagine#spiderman x male reader#x male y/n#m!reader#x m!reader#male reader insert#x reader#male reader#x you#spiderman x y/n#spiderman x reader#spiderman fic#spiderman x m!reader#andrew!peter parker#andrew!peter x reader#marvel x m!reader#marvel x you#marvel x male reader#â° : nou.peterparker#â° : nou.marvel#nou.fics
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àłââ· WEARING HIS CLOTHING â rafayel, zayne, xavier x gn!reader
âcâmere itâs starting to rain harder,â rafayel says, huffing as he closes the door behind you. the scent of wind and rain stains your clothing as you look around his studio. he sighs, running a hand through his wet hair. his fingers soak up the raindrops before he turns to you.
though he stumbles a bit as he spots the white shirt you're wearing growing more and more sheer from the rainy weather. rafayel feels the tips of his ears and his cheeks burn before he tears his gaze away from you. "you're probably getting cold in that," he spits out, "wait here. i'll get you a change of clothes in the meantime."
you barely have time to reject his offer before he darts towards his room. he returns hastily with new shirt and a beige and red cardigan of his. any chance of your denial is shot down with his arms crossed over his chest. "just change into it," he mutters, still avoiding your gaze.
you shrug, stepping into his bathroom to slip out of your soaked shirt. the shirt fits decently but the cardigan is much larger than you realize. the sleeves cover your hands and feel like flaps. but it smells like the bothersome painter you've grown fond of.
stepping out of the bathroom, you find rafayel sitting in front of the fireplace. it seems he's changed as well but it's difficult to tell from the large blanket he's enveloped himself in. but he pauses, looking you up and down.
"what?" you laugh, "cat got your tongue?" his cheeks burn once more but he scoffs, pulling you down into his lap under the blanket. "don't you dare say that devilish name in my home," he mutters, burying his face into the crook of your neck. you smell like him now and there's a tenderness he finds himself embracing when his hold on you tightens.
âiâm home,â zayne calls out, shuffling out of his shoes. he pauses, expecting you to come rushing out from somewhere to greet him. but when nothing arrives, he feels his chest tighten. perhaps itâs a little silly to have been looking forward to your welcoming smile.
he finds himself looking around your apartment in all of your usual spots. but he doesnât need to look too hard when he finds you in your room. youâre curled up atop a layer of laundry in deep sleep. itâs warm to the touch and the scent of linen is fresh in the air.
zayne feels the edges of his lips tug when he spots you wrapped up in a large coat heâd worn on a date with you last week. it engulfs you as you snuggle deeper into its depths.
he reaches out for you, pulling back your hair and cupping your cheek. thereâs something both ravenous and adoring in his gaze as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. perhaps heâll let you wear his clothing next time you need a little nap.
your name escapes his lips for a moment and your eyes flutter open. âz-zayne..!â you stutter out, sitting up quickly, âi didnât realize youâd be back this early.â
âi am back on time,â he murmurs, bending down on a knee to meet your height on the bed. âi believe you are the one that lost track of time. doing the laundry, i see. did that coat give you a hard time?â the look on your face warms his heart as his arms reach under the coat to wrap around you.
"you're cold, aren't you?" xavier murmurs. a silvery autumnal breeze whirls past the two of you and another curious shiver curls down your back. xavier chuckles fondly, hand still enveloped in yours. it's likely the only thing providing you warmth save for the thin jacket you thought would do its job more properly.
"i'll be fine," you said quickly, "the apartment's just another block." your words don't exactly convince xavier. he pauses, dragging your hand back a bit to pull you into his chest. "i don't really have a use for my jacket right now anyways. how about you take it for now?" he says with a smile.
you avoid his gaze, unwilling to admit he might have been right earlier about the chilly weather. but you don't reject his offer when he slides his jacket off and wraps it around your shoulders. "there," he chuckles, "feel a little better?" you decide not to indulge a reply.
back at the apartment, you immediately float to the heater. xavier's sweater is still lovingly draped over your shoulders. his warmth remains despite everything. from the kitchen, xavier watches you wrap the sweater even tighter around you. it suits you.
a lingering smile tugs at his lips before you slide back over to him. "you can have it back now. i can grab one of my thicker jackets now," you say, though not exactly stripping it off yet. he shakes his head, tugging the sleeve slightly to pull you closer to him.
"i prefer if you keep it for now," he says with a gentle expression, "i had heard from someone that offering someone your jacket was a pleasant sign of affection." he pauses, admiring the way you're bundled tightly in his clothing. "i just wasn't sure how to bring it up..." then, he smiles knowingly. "i figured a nice walk out give me an idea."
#à©âĄËł aurora's writing#love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#rafayel x reader#xavier love and deepspace#xavier x reader#zayne x reader#rafayel x you#rafayel fluff#love and deepspace rafayel#rafayel love and deepspace#rafayel x y/n#love and deepspace zayne#zayne x mc#zayne fluff#love and deepspace xavier#xavier fluff#xavier x mc
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BANANA MILK | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader
genre: smut, a tiny bit of angst
word count: 5.6k
summary: when a porn video accidentally plays on his tv, jungkook makes sure you watch.
playlist: banana milk / pinterest board: wine
warnings: forced and consensual porn watching, crotch grinding, dom/sub dynamics, plenty of desperation, praise and degradation, reader has daddy issues (like the writer,) oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, biting, pet names and a particular title used, handjob, plushie used during intercourse, spanking, raw sex, squirting, size kink, multiple orgasms, cockwarming
note: this can be read as a standalone, however it's a part two of my fic 'wine'. you guys asked for it and i delivered. <3 i wrote this entire fucking thing in a trace and on my phone, and i still don't understand how i managed to do that. even though i struggled in the beginning, i enjoyed writing this as soon as i got into it. there will be a part three as wellâfrom jungkook's pov. so as you read, look forward to it next sunday. let me know what you think in the comments, don't be shy! mwah ᥣđ©

Following the shapes of the sunlight on the parquet floors, your small feet are warm. The clicking of fingers on a sleek keyboard takes you, momentarily, into a hazy frame of mind. You feel as though youâre in a novel yourself, and the sound is a mere announcement that your steps, calculated in depthâthought through, plotted, and cared forâare counted by the man a few feet away from you, the writer, the long lost poet. Counted patiently throughout the rising action until they reach, at last, the climax. The notion unfolds within you, unfurls little by little in a way that you like, for it makes you feel exceptionally alive and poetic. It casts a languorous smile upon your shimmery face. Perhaps itâs due to the double meaning because youâre here for a reason. Or perhaps you owe that smile to the easy joy blooming in your chest, one that was sown hardly an hour ago.
You were in a bookstore, skimming through a paperback that enveloped you in blue dreaminess. The language you had the honor to graze with the pad of your finger was flowery in a way that stirred something within youâsomething that is noticeably sprouting to life. The furniture of the room was dark and antique under the yellow dimmed light, very much like the one you have at home. It was so you, a true personification of your whole being that made it quite difficult to leave, even though you had something to look forward to.
You were convinced it was your home.
A home that you came around to for the first time in your lifeâhow strange.
You bought the book. It had to be yours, and you had to have a keepsake, a direct link to your hideaway. You set it by the wall next to your shoes and your purse with a pink photocard holder, pulling out a certain bottle of happiness that you brought along for your friend.
The sunlight strips take you straight to him, your feetâkissed by the sunâpadding softly on the floor; the third step of the rising action. Jungkook sits slumped on his coffee brown couch with his laptop propped on his lap. His shoulders, clad in a denim sweatshirt, hunch in ever persistent concentration, a Word document opened and being swiftly filled with Hangul. Persistent enough that he doesnât twist his head to greet you. He knows youâre there. Heard the sweet sing-song beep of his passcode being accepted, letting you in into his solitary life. Knows you didnât forget it this time because he didnât have to stand to his feet to open the door for you as he so often did in the past.
You wrap your arms around his neck from the back, tits squished against the nape from the low neckline you chose to wear for the day. It shreds his concentration to smithereens; you feel him inhale raggedly through his nose, fingers coming to a halt on the keyboard. You press your lips against his scarred cheek, not as plump as they usually are because they are still pulled taut into a smile, and whisper, âhi, Ggukie.â
He turns his head to face you from the side.
âHi,â he breathes. There are peachy specks of glitter scattered all over your eyelids and you watch him study them, round eyes flicking between each one of them as if he canât get enough of themâas if there are more for him to greet the more he looks.
And heâs right. There are.
His tender mien causes your heart to clench, overflow with a continual stream of endearment for him. You notice the mark of your guileless kiss on the apple of his cheek, the lip gloss pink and glimmering. Decide to leave it there. Decide it suits him well.
âClose your eyes,â he says, and you do.
He drifts the pad of his thumb along that delicate skin. Not to disturb the artwork, no. But to acquaint himself further with it. Itâs been a long time since you wore glitter. Itâs been equally as long since you were this happyâhe senses it, the little iridescent stars tell him somehow. Thereâs so much of it that when he lifts the digit, the eye makeup stays intact, as if he hadnât touched it at all. Jungkook flicks his eyes to the craftwork of his stained fingertip, the glitter, the stars nuzzling homely within the lines. Smiles as he mumbles, âpretty.â
You kiss him airily as a thank you. No hands, not anything. Just your lips puckering from the little distance between the pair of you. You retrieve the bottle of happiness from your back pocket and hold it against his hard chest.
Confusingly, with lips rounded, Jungkook looks down and gasps.
Banana milk.
âCome here.â
He hauls you down onto his lap like you weigh nothing, his laptop pushed away to the cold side of the couch. You squeal, pulling your hair as you lay against them and try to find a better position, discomfort painting your features in a way that makes Jungkook scrunch his nose adorably. He lifts your neck and gathers your hair, smoothing it down on the leather. You look up at him. The stars have migrated to your glossy eyes.
âWhereâs yours?â he asks, hand placed on the crown of your head, the other clutching the chunky bottle protectively like a child.
âI already drank mine.â
Jungkook pierces the paper lid with the slim straw and takes a sip. Lowers it until it pokes you in the line of your lips. Nods at you, encouraging you to drink.
Your heart clenches again, and the thoughtful gesture makes it swell. It suddenly feels like your chest is very tight, like thereâs no space for your organs. You massage the feeling away, wrapping your lips around the plastic, taking a few sips. No hands, not anything.
âYouâre a sweet boy,â you whisper, a dollop of the creamy liquid adorning the oily pinkness of your lips.
A bright blush creeps along his cheeks, settling along the bridge of his nose as it ever so often does. Gazes down at you, then at your lips. Scrunches his nose again as he shakes his head, bending to peck you delicately, tongue swiping across your bottom lip, cleaning you up. His habit at this point.
âIâm a man.â
Your face grows hot. The imprint of your lip gloss stained his mouth and it worsens your state, deepens your dreaminess. Youâre leaving small parts of your being as marks on him. You find that beautiful, in all its simplicity.
âSweet and pretty,â you add in a hushed whisper, more to yourself than him.
Twinkles, akin to your glitter, flood his eyes and they deepen in thought. He doesnât say anything for a moment and when he drifts the palm of his hand down your throat, curling around your collarbones, you realize heâs having flashbacks.Â
Wine. Neck. Tongue.
The cause and effect on your panties in mere seconds.Â
Your helplessness. The way you apologized for coming because you werenât allowed.Â
Jungkook smirks and so do you. Lets his palm roam down to your tits, discovers only with the lift of his finger that youâre wearing a lacy blue bralette under your top.Â
âSo easy to pull to the side,â he comments, more to himself than you. Doesnât look at you when he begins to fondle them, transfixed by their fullness.Â
âThat was myââ
âHow was your day?â he cuts in, a breathy concoction of a hiss and a moan escaping his mouth once he feels your nipples stiffen under his hand. Index and thumb come and squeeze at that nub, coaxing a hum out of you.Â
Your brain degrades slowly but surely, metamorphosing into mush. You struggle with your memory, abruptly unable to remember where you were and what you did before you were half spread across his lap.
âGood,â you try. âFantastic, actually.âÂ
Jungkook smiles. Pinches your nipple again, fingers pressing flat and moving up and down. You moan out for him, writhing in a newly, softly burning desire.
âReally?âÂ
âYeah, went to the bookstore.âÂ
Did you?Â
âBought anything?âÂ
His hand drifts back to your neck, never losing skin-to-skin contact, wraps around the column, then goes back down to your tit. This time, to your neglected one. Gives it the same attention.Â
You donât remember if you bought anything.
Zoning out, you focus on the pleasure, fluttering your eyes closed. Figure this is just a meaningless talk that doesnât require truthful answers or any for that matter. You widen your legs, calling out for his touch there. This is what you came here for. He doesnât need to know about the itty-bitty parts of your soul.
Jungkook grabs your arm and pulls you up, guiding you to straddle him. You poke the banana milk, propped against the backrest, with your knee. Despite your now lustful haze, youâre careful not to knock it over.Â
A billow of the whole night lines his eyelashes, arousal blanketing his irises. You run your hand through his hairâcanât help yourself, youâre just obeying your bodyâs intimate wishesâand tip his head back, his soft strands sifting through your fingers. You draw near to his slightly parted mouth as if to kiss him, but youâre here just to tease him, to make him want more just like he did to you, hovering your lips above his. His slowly quickening inhales add much to your wooziness and you go to hide in the crook of his neck, but he stops you dead in your tracks when he says, âyou came here to get fucked, didnât you?âÂ
Your laughter is but a breath. âHow did you know?â
You kiss him there, incorporating your tongue, sucking the sensitive skin for a mere beat of time. And just like him, you discover why he likes kissing your neck as much as he does.
A film of goosebumps shrouds the small portion of the exposed skin of his chest that youâre allowed to see. Jungkook moans lowly, gripping your ass and pulling you closer to his semi-hard crotch, sinking lower into the cushion. Eager hands hook under the hem of your top and fling it out of you, latching onto the back of your neck and drawing you to his face.Â
He doesnât kiss you.
He begins to talk.
âI waited for you all fucking day,â he murmurs against your lips, sucking in a breath of air as if there wasnât enough in his lungs, as if voicing out his desire exerted his energy.Â
âAll I could think about were those fucking tits,â he confesses. âThose hips of yours, so small in my hands. That pussy, fuck. I wanna eat it,â he groans, furrowing his eyebrows. âGod, I wanna eat it.âÂ
You nod to each and every word of his, grinding your pelvis against his, mewling into his mouth.Â
âYou understand what Iâm saying to you, donât you?â
You nod again, your body begging you to be allowed to arch your back, but the grip Jungkook has on your neck prevents it from happening. The fire of desire burns bright, made bigger and blue by his spluttering sparks.
ââCourse you do, youâre my good little girl, arenât you? Smart and educated,â he praises and your walls clench. âLet me eat your little pussy.âÂ
âPlease,â is all you manage to utter before he holds you steady by the waist and lays you down on the couch.Â
Your shoulder blade hits the remote control and a sudden echo of a girlâs moan booms through the room. Both of your heads swing to the TV to see a girl humping her teddy bear, barren down to her full femininity except for her panties. She plays with her nipples, pulling on them while flicking her hair back, hips rapidly moving back and forth on the nose of her big fluffy friend. Mesmerized and completely sobered up from your drunkenness, your clit gains a heartbeat, your teeth sinking into the bottom of your lip.
Jungkook hastily rummages around you to find the remote. You stop him.Â
âLeave it on.â
He blinks at you, mouth agape. You smile at him, thumb brushing along his knuckles as you take the remote from him and place it on the coffee table. The gesture smooths down the wrinkle between his brows. His blush deepens, the color of roses stunning you.Â
Undoing your jeans, he pulls down your zipper. âYou want me to eat you out while you watch porn?â
You nod. âYes, sir.âÂ
Jungkook sighs, sagging your pants down to the middle of your thighs. âDonât call me sir or Iâll fuck you in the ass right here, right now.â
âHurry, sheâs almost done.âÂ
He spanks you harshly and you squirm, quickly reminded of his need to be in control, but he listens to your need. Rewinds the video back. Slaps the remote back down onto the wood of the coffee table, which makes you burst into giggles and Jungkook smirks, folding you in half, dragging your panties to your jeans pooling above your knees. The center sticks to your core, causing him to growl, hand coming to wipe at the corners. The girl hops on the teddy bear. Moans fill your ears.Â
He kisses your clit. Pinches the back of his sweatshirt and hurls it at your head, obscuring your view. You huff in frustration, throwing it back at him, but he catches it. Your breath hitches in your throat.
âYou should focus.â
âYou going all in for me?â you ask, speaking of his nakedness.Â
Clothes come off on the verge of his climax, never before it; itâs so unlikely of him to discard himself so quickly. He usually keeps at least one item of clothing on, too hastyâtoo hungry to bother, until he canât take the heat anymore.
âFor you always.â
He dives into your pussy, tongue licking against your folds, nose pressed against your mound, inhaling you. Going up and down, he drinks you. Moans at the taste, eyes lidded and drunk as he stares at you through the little opening of your barely parted legs. You wish to spread them wider, the pleasure forces you to, but you canâtâthe tight fabric wonât grant you the satisfaction.Â
âTake it off of me,â you whine.
He comes up for air. âNo.â
You whine louder, fingers grasping at the waistband. Jungkook grabs your hands and pins them down to the cushion, thumbs resting in the middle of your palms. He doesnât let a drop of you go to waste, sheathes his tongue into your warmth as he fucks you, nose rubbing against your engorged clit. You tip your head back, lose a sight of him for a moment, digits naturally wrapping around his thumbs like a baby. A litany of curse words, broken by your moans that sync to the girlâs sounds of pleasure, fall from your mouth. You donât even look at her, too busyâtoo distracted by the man below you, by the way his open mouth works against you, his dimples hollowing into straight lines, so akin to the sunlight strips that led you to him, as he flicks his tongue against your clit.Â
You brush your fingers through his hair again, hold it at the roots through the small hole between your thighs. It provokes him enough that he looks up at you and finds you staring back at him. He growls against your cunt, a warning, the vibrations sending you back. Your eyes roll into your head and your hips follow, grinding into his glistening face.Â
Jungkook hums. Sticks around to see if youâre watching the porn, slowing down the pace of his flicks.Â
Youâre not.Â
Coming down from that wave, your eyes set back down on him.Â
Jungkook peels his mouth off of you. Bends over you and grips your neck, pushing you down. The other hand spreads your slick all over your cunt, gliding back and forth. No pressure, not anything. Hearing your squelching noises, he mimics you. Also rolls his eyes back. Awakens the butterflies in your tummy.Â
âFocus,â he hisses.Â
You mewl. Ride his fingers to at least feel something, but you achieve nothing of the like.Â
He spanks your pussy, another warning.Â
You donât listen. Canât take your eyes off of him. Of the disheveled mess on top of his head, the sweat that pools at his hairline, the disarrange of his thick eyelashes from having his lids closed against your skin, the sheen of his nose, the wet puffiness of his lips, the kiss mark on his cheek. You take a deep breath.Â
Itâs impossible to focus on someone else other than him. Especially when he licks his lips, the tip of his tongue sailing around the arc of his lipsâthe arc of your character development. Swallows the dewiness he called out like teacher to pupil.Â
You were a virgin when you met him. It was him who taught your body to get messy for him like this. His tongue that tasted your girlishness first. All your first times were with him and continue to be under his ever strict but safe supervision.Â
Under his custody in a way. You do call him Daddy after all.Â
âI missed your cuntie so much,â he husks, tightening his grip a tiny bit to emphasize the importance of his words. âBut I canât eat it if you donât watch.âÂ
His index finger turns your head to the side and his other hand travels down to your wet heat. The girl clutches her friendâs fur in her fist and fucks him slowly. With each roll of her hips upwards, you can see the shine of her slick adorning her folds. Jungkook sinks two digits inside. Can barely fit them in due to the way you clench around him. You fight his hold against your cheek, needing to look at him.Â
âFuck, you like that, donât you?â he whispers. âMy horny little baby.âÂ
He keeps them there, at the beginning of your hole, pumping sluggishly. Doesnât look at the girl. Didnât do so ever since the video started playing. His eyes only drink in your reactions, the twist of your features, the little sounds and breaths that break out of your mouth, gracing his ears, making his cock hard.Â
It disturbs something within you. Stirs it to life. Kindles it radiantly, adjoining it to the fire of your desire. You know what it is, but you canât bring yourself to accept it. Itâs a feigned reality, one of a novel. Not the one that could ever be applied to your life, burst at the seam, engulf the radius until it absorbs you.Â
Youâre not that lucky. Youâre not lucky to have him in that way.Â
Youâre lucky enough to have him physically connected to you once a week.Â
But emotionally?Â
Tears prick your waterline.Â
âI want your tongue on my clit,â you croak out, reckon itâs better that you listen to him, watch the girl make herself come, follow her footsteps and go home.Â
Distance is safe. Distance heals everything, particularly emotional attachments.Â
Jungkook ceases his slow movement. Lowers your legs down so they repose across his thighs. Strokes the tremble of your muscles, removing your jeans and your underwear. Keeps that dangly fabric hanging off of the edge of the coffee table. Caresses your face as he says, âDaddy wants that, too. So bad. But you gotta be my good little girl and watch it. Then Daddy will play with your little clit.âÂ
âOkay.âÂ
He settles back into his position between your legs, enfolds your thighs around his shoulders. Placing a tiny kiss on your pussy lips, the soft fleshiness of your thigh steals his attention. He begins to plant big, wet kisses there. Alternates between nibbles and those kisses, mumbling something under his breath that you canât make out.Â
The girlâs furry friend is drenched in her wetness. You buckle your hips with need.Â
âI want to hear your apology,â he orders, lips pressed against your skin.Â
You look at him and mewl.Â
âEyes on the TV.âÂ
He bites you.Â
You hiss in pain. âIâm sorry.âÂ
He kisses the pain he caused. âWhat for?âÂ
âFor watching you,â you whisper, a lump forms in your throat and is softened by the look of endearment he gives you. Doesnât reprimand you for keeping your eyes on him.Â
He latches onto the voluptuous part between your hip and thigh, marks you there. âAnd why did you watch me?âÂ
You bite your lip to cage the words you really want to say behind your teeth, but some of them slip out. âBecause youâre beautiful. Too distracting.â Because you look at me, and not at her.Â
Jungkook hums. Kitten licks your clit to reward you, lips wrapping around the bundle to suck it. Makes a sound of satisfaction, eyes closing to drown in the feeling. Lets go with a pop. Does it again. Suck. Pop. Suck. Pop.
You moan. Near to the last step of your rising action. One more and youâll reach your climax. You keep your eyes peeled on the girl, her screams guiding you to that sweet release.Â
âMy good little girl. Making me weak. Making me drunk,â he mutters against your pussy, blowing cool air against your dewiness; you shiver and he laughs softly. âCome for me, baby. Please.âÂ
He sucks your clit again, but manages the pressure. Makes sure itâs light, so you enjoy it as much as he does.Â
âKeep watching it. Youâre doing such a good job. Keep those pretty eyes on the TV.âÂ
A new texture rubbing against your pussy surprises you and a moany gasp escapes you. You look down to find his dear Hello Kitty plushie in his hand and the different, rough sensation tears the rope in your belly.Â
âThatâs it. Ride her. Fuck yeah. Make a mess on her for me. Good, good girl.â Â
You gush out, your orgasm taking over your body. Trembling, squirming, you thrash your hands in search of something stable that would help you ground yourself. Jungkook doesnât slow down his movement but he finds your hand, finds the other one too, and pins them above your head. Bends over you and watches you closely, watches those waves surging through your body until they still.Â
He kisses you, then.Â
âSuch a good girl for me. Well done.âÂ
You struggle to catch your breath.Â
And thereâs no oxygen left in your lungs when Jungkook begins to rock his hips against his plushie, the button of her nose pressing deliciously against your sensitive bundle. Your moans come out in staccatos, dry and breathless. Little squeaks of pleasure that make him crazy. Eyebrows furrowed, stare dark and fixed.Â
âFuck, Jungkook. Oh, fuck.âÂ
He laughs and you expect to be degraded, having realized that both of you forgot, for the first time in months, to do so, but he rams into her and nudges his nose against yours. Dimples prominent, mouth stretched into a grin. A sight to die for.Â
âI could come like this, baby. But I want to feel you. Need your little pussy around me. Might go crazy if I donât fuck you,â he says hastily, chucking the plushie away. âThey might lock me up.âÂ
You might have wanted to go home, but who are you to deny him when heâs this desperate for you.Â
Butterflies swarm in your belly. And you laugh.Â
âFuck me, baby. Come on,â you say, the pet name on your tongue scorching your whole body.Â
Jungkook hums, palms his hardness as the outline of his cock makes you salivate. While you reach for Hello Kitty to hug her because you need something solid to hold onto, he pulls out his heavy length out of his sweatpants. Wanting him naked, your fingers push down the material and you uncover that heâs not wearing any underwear.
You curse under your breath, your pussy drooling for you.Â
His member slaps against his stomach and you hiss, your saliva collecting in your mouth at the sight. He grips himself, throws his head back. You focus on his red tip, on the evidence of his arousal agleam in the sudden shadows of the room. The video stopped playing; silence replaced it instead. You care very little for it, entranced by his manhood, by his defined abdomen, the hardness and roundness of his pecs and the small, singular mole right underneath. You find yourself longing to kiss it, swipe your tongue against it and you fulfill your bodyâs wishes. Â
You get on your knees. Hello Kitty falls in the middle of them. Jungkook curiously watches what youâre doing and when you do what you longed to do, he moans softly.Â
âPrincess,â he sighs, moans again when you brush your fingertips against his nipple. âYou make me feel so good.âÂ
âYeah?â you question, looking up at him, fingers tweaking his nipple and he vocally shows you how much he likes that.Â
His sounds of pleasure, the variety of pet names and praise makes you feel woozy all over again. Your pussy dampens the plush fabric, adding to the mess.Â
âFeel how hard you made me,â he whispers, guides your hand to his length, wrapping your fingers around his girth; you show him, too, how much you like that. âSpit on it.âÂ
You donât have to be told twice.Â
Spreading your liquid love all over him, you grip him tight beneath the mushroom to coax that delicious hiss you love hearing. You begin to move your hand from there, sliding his foreskin up and down. His groans are a panoply of pure beauty that you wish to own forever. You wish you could freeze time right now. Deem this is as close to paradise as you could ever get.Â
This is where you want to be, for all eternity.Â
You lick over his nipple and Jungkook sobs. Sounds just like you when he plays with you and it makes you sob just the same. You hold it in, though, think this is a time reserved for him only. Concentrate on flicking the nub to make him feel good, squeezing his tip. He deserves it.Â
âIâm gonna turn myself in,â Jungkook whines. âItâs your fault.â He kisses the top of your head. âYou made me crazy.âÂ
You laugh, quickening the pace of your hand that soon slows down when he sultrily orders, âhump her for me.âÂ
âFuck,â you let out, eyes wide and round as you look up at him. âYou want me to ride her?âÂ
A rumble of agreement passes through his lips. âMake Daddy proud.âÂ
You withdraw but Jungkook clicks his tongue.Â
âKeep your hand where it belongs.âÂ
Your jaw falls open.Â
He guides you back where he wants you, meanwhile you rearrange the plushie and sit down on her nose, cringing at the cold wetness you left there.Â
You rock your hips once. The dull pleasure numbs your senses, electrifies your body. Before youâre even aware of it, you hump her like your life depends on it. Your hair lifts and falls around you gracefully in spite of your pace, little strays sticking to your flushed face.
âSlow down, fuck,â Jungkook groans, placing his hands on your shoulders and wrist to stop you. âSlow, baby. Can you do that for me?âÂ
You listen, even though itâs evident you donât like it.Â
He chuckles. âGood job,â he praises. âFix your face.âÂ
You smile up at him, cracking into a gentle laughter. Out of breath, out of your mind.Â
âThatâs it.âÂ
He kisses your forehead. Reaches behind him and grabs the banana milk. Points the straw at your lips. You gulp it down loudly. Jungkook fixes your hair in the meantime.Â
Sitting down, he hauls you onto his lap. Your back presses against his chest, the tip of his shaft aiming at the middle of your belly. It scares you, how deep he can go and you turn your head to look at him with wide eyes.
He squeezes your tits, pulls the fabric to the side. Pinches both of your nipples at the same time before he kneads the flesh. Your roll your hips against his manhood, leaning your head back against his shoulder.Â
âYouâre just too small, arenât you?â he whispers against your cheek.Â
You meow a soft sound that confirms his words.Â
âWonât even fit in you. Need to stretch out you for me,â he says, hands traveling down your stomach. âCan you even take two fingers?â
There it is, the degradation. But itâs so tender that you canât even believe your own ears. You mewl again, finding it so hot that he talks to you like this, knowing you took three of his fingers the last time he touched you.Â
âI can,â you say and thereâs allure to your words, your pussy grinding against him.Â
He hums. Maneuvers you a little so his cock sits against your ass. Plays with your slick just to hear the filthy sound before he plunges two of his fingers inside of you. He curls them and is brutal as he pistons into you in fast jerks, the muscles in his biceps bulging. With his free hand, he makes sure you gaze at him and he nudges his nose with yours. His short breaths fan against your cupidâs bow and in return, you feed him your moans. He swallows each and every one, his pace never faltering, his eyes never leaving yours.Â
Your stream of pleasure shoots out onto the coffee table and Jungkook would miss it if his reflexes didnât act out for him. He groans, strumming his fingers against your clit to prolong your orgasm, lifting you to ram his hard length into you.Â
You welcome him embarrassingly fast, smothering him until heâs fully sheathed inside you. Because he entered you mid climax, it triggers another one and you scream, thrash your body that he encages with his arms around you, one hand flying to your neck to keep you down. He presses his lips against your temple, lulls you with gentle sounds. Mutters apologetic words, words of encouragement, praise and reassurement. All while ramming his cock into you.Â
Youâre forgetting the day and time. Hell, youâre forgetting your own age and name. All you know is dick.Â
His dick splitting you open as your head knocks back and forth.Â
He squishes your cheeks, pressing a kiss there, and it brings you back. You open your eyes, blink a few times. Yelp as he fucks you deeply and holds.Â
âYouâre taking me so well,â Jungkook husks. âYou always squirt for me, donât you?âÂ
You nod, dumbly. He plunges his fingers into your mouth to gather your saliva and takes them down to your clit. He rubs it, and he rubs it in fast circles. His other hand finds the soiled plushie and he crams her into your arms. You cuddle her, needing the comfort.Â
âIf I had a vibrator, Iâd keep it right here on your little clit the whole time and break you fucking apart.âÂ
You clench around him, signaling him how much you like the idea.
âI know youâd like that. The thought of it wonât let me sleep. Might have to get it for you after all.â
Your surroundings are foggy. Another surge of orgasm reaches for you to get you. Your whole body shakes. You hug the plushie tighter.Â
You prop your feet on his muscular thighs and weakly, you snap your hips down on him, setting a steady pace that makes you see stars.Â
Jungkook ceases your movement. Grabs your waist tightly.Â
âStop or Iâll come.âÂ
You fight against him, pushing down on him. He lets you.Â
âYou want Daddy to come for you?âÂ
âYes, please, Iâm so close,â you squeak.Â
âHold onto her then.â
He meets your thrust, groans at the impact, at the teamwork. Has a deathly grip on you and Hello Kitty that bruises you, stills you as he ruts into you, his balls slapping against your sensitive, abused femininity. Youâre losing everything; youâre losing yourself in him, in his manhood, in his desire and pleasure. Submitting all that you are to him, willingly giving over all that you have left of your being. Knowing it will be safe, knowing you will be taken care of.Â
And with that you come, and you come hard. You coax his orgasm, beckon it out with the one final clench of your pussy around him. You milk him dry, stars clouding your vision and the warmth of his hot spurts of cum filling you to the brim. Jungkook whines.Â
He loses it completely.Â
Babbling sets of incoherent words against your cheek, he kisses you there, drags his kisses down to your jaw and your neck, squeezing you and Hello Kitty in his arms as his cock stays sheathed inside of you.Â
Two things you do make out when you come down.Â
A string of pet names directed to you. A bunch of âbabyâ, âprincessâ, âlittle girlâ, all held close by the prefix of âmyâ. Held as close as he holds you.Â
And something else entirely. Â
âI love being inside of you. Whether itâs with my fingers or my dick. I donât care. I just love being inside of you. You feel like home.âÂ
He strokes your hair, over and over, from the side like that. From the crown of your head, past the curve, down the side of your neck. All while kissing your skin. Tiny little kisses that soothe you, lull you into tranquility, prove you utterly wrong.Â
But youâre still delirious from your high. You donât realize what he said.Â
You donât realize that your home isnât within the walls of that bookstore but within the arms of the man that holds you.Â
And you donât realize that he feels the same way.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.
BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part three
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