#i haven't calmed down about this at all by the way like not ONE second

[mythvoiced]

@xinxiins | ♥

Wénzhé's knuckles are almost white. His fingers are wrapped around the edge of the bench they're sitting on. There's no reason to be this tense, right? But Wénzhé is exactly the kind of person who needs to hold on when things are calmest.

There aren't many moments in his life these days where he feels like he's holding onto one important enough to make his grip that tight. It'd been easier for weeks and then months and now nearly a year to simply loosen his grip around everything that had ever mattered enough in his life to mold its shape into his palm.

He'd let go at the worst of times and cost someone's life, so he might as well stop holding everything else, too, right? Clearly his grip wasn't meant to hold safe and secure, kindly and cherished.

Enter him.

Lí Chényǔ is a man unlike... where should he even start? He doesn't think the English language was invented with the foresight of Wénzhé one day needing it to describe Lí Chényǔ and his heart in relation to him, or it would have tried harder to be half as, a tenth as beautiful as Lí Chényǔ himself.

It's not so much his appearance, though there's nothing to complain about there - if he took his hand, would his fingers wrap around his wrist in one go and easily because Wénzhé's fingers are lithe and long, or because Lí Chényǔ is malnourished enough to allow encompassing in a way Wénzhé doesn't want?

There's a reason he doesn't turn to meet his eyes a lot. Wénzhé has never been particularly good at any kind of sport. Team or solo as they may be, he can hold his own in those that require height, because the kids used to drag him

and her

into their games solely for that advantage, and what you do a lot you inadvertently end up learning a little off. Sure, a basketball net or the one tugged across a volleyball field, he can maybe navigate around it well enough. But if he imagines Lí Chényǔ to stand there and were to turn and meet his eyes, he'd fall flat on his ass.

If he were a figure skater, he'd slip and slice his own hands.

If he played tennis he'd get every ace directly in his gut, and would use it to pretend he can't breathe because the ball impedes him, and not because every time he turns he wants to brush those strands out of Lí Chényǔ's eyes and lean in until he can breathe the rest of him in.

That's why the white knuckles, that's why the grip, that's why he can't sound confident enough to his own ears even though he doesn't stutter as bad as he'd figured he would, that's why he looks away almost instantly, pretending the joy erupting out of Michael and Wendy's throats had suddenly caught his attention again.

There's a lot of something ugly buried in his chest as well, makes his stomach coil and turn on itself uncomfortably, because how can someone like him be deserving of wanting to hold onto someone like Lí Chényǔ?

That's why he tries.

Something twists painfully in his neck when his head whips around at the tightness suddenly in Lí Chényǔ's voice, the sniffling, and he instantly slams his hand against the spot, as if that would ease the uncomfortable pain shooting through his skull.

"What-? Fuck, sorry, did I-" he falters and bites his tongue, lips uselessly parted on apologies he doesn't know how to word because he doesn't know which part of his statement he should apologize for, and then the attempt dies anyway.

He hates interrupting Lí Chényǔ when he's trying to put something into words, but he gets the urge to do it here anyway. It's ugly, too, he doesn't want to hear it almost because certainly, surely, in a way, there's no way-

Lí Chényǔ bumps his knee against his own and Wénzhé scrunches his nose to not start crying, too.

"I don't know what that means," he says pathetically, as if Lí Chényǔ doesn't know that. It doesn't matter, though, does it? Whatever he said, it most likely matches the English that had preceded it, and sometimes wonders if Lí Chényǔ resorts to Mandarin for the part of his words that would cradle Wénzhé's heart a little too lovingly out of a sense of mercy for Wénzhé.

"Don't say that, gosh," he runs his other hand across his features. Thanks whatever higher power had put his head back on properly on his shoulders enough to push him into Lí Chényǔ's life.

"You're gonna fill concert halls in this life," he points at the ground in emphasis, suddenly fierce, suddenly desperate. He leans closer. "Not in a few centuries. Okay? I'm your first fan. Not your only."

His fingers tingle.

Would it be all right to touch?

His thumb shakes as he brushes it along something glistening suspiciously at the corner of one of Lí Chényǔ's eyes. His hands shake when he pulls away again. "Sorry, uhm," he gulps, rubbing his palms together to get rid of the tremors. "You hungry?"

[willgrahamscock]

Things that make me lose my mind: Poolverine edition:

"Are you ready to be calm?"

"Not all of you was asleep."

Logan telling Wade that he'll never save the universe and it cuts to Wade looking like he'd been hit by a truck and the pan back to Logan instantly regretting it and getting even angrier than he was + Wade taking it all silently.

Wade using his thighs and leg to smash Logan's head into the side of the car.

Leg over Logan's shoulder as he penetrates Wade + Wade arching up and taking it like a good boy.

"I take it back, the Honda Odyssey fucks hard. Too bad you don't, needle dick." (ok, BRAT.)

"Oh we're just getting started, bub." (ok brat tamer.)

Logan smiling with Wade's blood dripping into his mouth. (freak...)

That shot of Wade bricked up in the back seat.

The entire Honda Odyssey scene alright. It's called sex when you're gay.

"You're the one that I want" Playing as they're trying to maul each other by the way.

D: "You smell something?" W: Yeah, you. A lot of you." Right before the DP variants appear. (why do you know what Wade smells like hm? that's gay.)

A song about blowjobs playing as they fight all the DP variants. "I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there???" and "I hear you call my name, and it feels like home" (gay.)

From "Did you just say you made an educated fucking wish?" to "Don't listen to him he's a liar." to "You didn't lie, you made an educated wish."

From "It's one of god's best jokes that you can't die" to breaking down the reinforced steel door to get to Wade.

Wade getting jealous when other people were ogling Logan shirtless and Logan actually listening to Wade and putting on a jacket.

"They called after me and I ignored them." To Wade calling Logan's name and taking a second before turning and going home with him.

The way Logan looks at Wade when he's being introduced to Blind Al. (I haven't seen him smile like this ever.)

[goldenstring6123]

HIIIYAAAYAYA I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH AND I LOOK FORWARD TO EVERY SINGLE PIECE YOU RELEASE!!! YOU HAVE ME CHECKING YOUR PAGE 24/7 IM OBSESSEDDD 🫦🫦 ANYWHO ignore my fawning but how do you think the lads boys would react to a suuuuper clingy gf??? idk but if i were mc i would NOT be leaving their side and would literally be glued onto their body like mc is a strong soldier for resisting (especially rafayel my HUSBAND 😩) literally wanna just curl up in their lap and carve myself into their ribcage so they can never escape from me tehe. ALSOOO U DON’T GOTTA RESPOND IF UR BUSY OR UNCOMFY!!!! JUST KNOW I LOVE YOU AND YOUR DELICIOUS WRITING 🫶🫶

Lnds: Sticky little lover

Warning: vaguely suggestive, mentions of hickeys, fem!reader, clingy!reader, reader may or may not be the mc, there might be spelling mistakes, I haven't proofread yet.

Author's note: Awieee thank u sm pookie! I understand the feeling of wanting to latch onto the LIs~

Zayne:

Zayne wakes up with you on his chest, your leg over his crotch, and your arm across his stomach. To him, you were like a weighted stuffed toy and a weighted blanket, all at the same time. He wasn't complaining; maybe it was an excuse to stay in bed for another half an hour.

The bathroom is big enough for the two of you, with two wash basins, a separate shower, and a bathtub. There are three bathrooms in the house, but you always choose the one he uses. He's complained once, but you said you didn't like the interior design of the others. Side by side, you brush your teeth and comb your hair while he shaves and flosses. If you wake up earlier than usual, maybe he'll let you moisturize and exfoliate his face. It's no surprise Zayne leaves the bathroom door open for you. It's just normal for both of you to cross paths in the large bathroom.

When he leaves for work, you never miss a day to kiss his nose and give him a quick peck. You embrace him with two arms, but he hugs you back with one, the other hand holding his bag. You don't mind.

Your message gallery is filled with pictures of your mundane life: a snapshot of a book you're reading, the new coffee you tried, the little teacup Maltese that reminded you of him. Even though he's busy, he always finds time to react, and if he doesn't, he brings up the picture when you pick him up at the end of the day. He never forgets.

Calm days are spent in each other's presence. You always cling to him in one way or another. While he's reading a book, your feet are on his lap, and his fingers unknowingly knead your ankles. While watching a movie, your shoulders touch, and your hands are intertwined. When you react to the film, his hand, still holding yours, follows your movements.

Dates are always fun. It doesn't matter where you go or what you do as long as Zayne's in your company. Cafe dates are cute, but Zayne always calls you out for staring at him with a weird look in your eyes—you were admiring him. Whenever you walk, you cling to him, wrapping yourself around his forearm while playfully weighing him down. He stumbles for a second but smiles.

You love leaving hickeys on him, even bite marks if he allows, but the rule is never above the collar of his shirt. You oblige 97% of the time. The other 3%, you sneak in a light hickey that passes off as a mosquito bite, just peeking through the collar of his dress shirt. Sometimes, there's one behind his ear, barely visible. He never knows, but the doctors and patients at the hospital do.

When you're apart, you always call him and go about your day. At night, you video call and try to stay awake, only to snooze off. Zayne chuckles at your attempts to wash the tiredness away, but sometimes, he falls asleep with you. In the morning, both of your phones end up overheating and out of battery.

Zayne loves your company, to others it may seem trouble some but with you, it was adorable. It's through your clingyness that he experiences feelings he never once did before, and those little things always brighten his day. You actions with him makes him feel more loved and he knows he has a hard time expressing them but with you around, it had become more and more easier.

Rafayel:

They say opposites attract, but you and Rafayel are the universal exception.

Rafayel doesn't like it when you're late. Even for a home-date, he fusses about being left alone too long and feeling abandoned. You laugh at his whining over text and enter his door. When he sees you, he jumps off the couch and pouts, "Finally, it took you long enough."

You're like magnets to each other. Wherever one goes, the other follows. If you're cooking ramen in the kitchen, Rafayel sneaks behind you, hugging your back and sniffing your hair. If he's watering flowers in the greenhouse, you sit nearby and watch a ladybug on a leaf. If he's painting, you're reading on a nearby couch. Rafayel's residence is too big for one person but just enough for two.

Rafayel whines when you do something without him, especially if it's something he wants to do. You once took a flower arrangement class without him, and he sulked, "Wow, you didn't even think to tell me? I wanted to do that with you." Even watching movies is hard because you need to pause and wait for him whenever he leaves the room. One time, you finished a mystery series without him, and he ate the tiramisu you were saving for dessert in revenge.

Matching clothes is a thing. He avoids tacky prints but opts for complementary outfits. Because of this, Rafayel buys clothes with you in mind, often choosing items with a feminine counterpart. His shoe closet and yours are practically the same, and you don't complain because Rafayel has good fashion taste.

You love cute matching items. You once bought a two-piece mug set with a heart design, and he took the other one without you knowing. He also took a keychain from your collection, matching the one you have in your wallet.

"Are you tired of me now?" he asks when you keep your distance, avoiding a hug. It's the middle of summer, and the AC is broken. You reek of sweat, and the last thing you want is to be touched. You sigh and pat his back, "After I take a bath, I'll give you all the hugs you want."

He asks about your plans every morning, almost as a ritual. You've gotten used to replying while getting ready. If both schedules permit, he joins you for grocery runs, laundry, or whatever mundane tasks you have. You make good use of him, letting him carry the bags even if you could do it yourself.

When Rafayel is at an exhibit, you bombard him with texts: jokes, articles, or random thoughts. He replies quickly, hiding from the audience, bored out of his mind. In return, he sends you pictures of his artwork, which you threaten to sell online as digital files. He blocks you for a good five minutes.

You're each other's wallpaper. Surprisingly, Rafayel asked to do it. You spent hours finding the perfect pose and recreating trending ones. Rafayel insisted on multiple retakes.

You were rafayel's missing piece. To him, you were the only thing that he has ever wanted in his life. He loved you dearly and a part of him was terrified that you don't reciprocate the same level of love as he does to you; but lo and behold, fate has given him a blessing after all those years of loneliness. His heart swoons at the very sight of your actions. You were clingy, that was factually true but the same goes for him. Nothing makes him more fulfilled than seeing you both think and love in the same wavelength.

Sylus:

His base has become your home. On days off, you often find yourself in one of three rooms: his bedroom, where you lie on his bed, tapping away on your phone or laptop; his kitchen, where the chef cooks whatever you want in exchange for listening to his stories from his little village; or the lobby, where Luke and Kieran update you on the most boring things in the building. Sylus doesn't mind at all; it's less work for Mephisto, and he can keep an eye on you.

Sylus's sleep schedule is the same as that of those in Linkon City. His days begin in the evenings, often leaving you lying in the big bed alone. Sylus is nearby or at his desk if he's not out on the streets. You like hugging his pillow because it smells like his 3-in-1 shampoo. If he's out on late-night trips, you selfishly steal his shirt from the closet, wear it on the pillow, and hug that to sleep, forcing yourself to be satisfied with what you got.

His lap is your chair. It doesn't matter where he's sitting; you always find yourself on him. Sylus sometimes complains about his thighs going numb, but when you leave, he yanks you back, positioning you between his legs, with your butt on the chair instead of his thigh. He goes back to his work as if nothing happened, occasionally sparing you a kiss on the forehead or rubbing his face against yours. If not, you shower his chest and neck with light pecks before snuggling into the crook of his neck.

His biceps are nice to the touch. On dates to the city, while waiting in line, you squeeze his muscles for entertainment, even through his thick leather jacket. He flexes for a minute before relaxing, amused at how easily you entertain yourself.

The boyfriend shirt phenomenon is common. You don't leave the base wearing his clothes, but you certainly walk around the area in them. Whether a turtleneck, a black blouse, or just a plain shirt, you're always wearing his clothes, even in his company.

You're an eccentric one, thats for sure. Sylus never truly got ahold of how you managed to change from being so distant to practically being glued to him. It was like he partnered up with a whole new different person. He wasn't complaining at all if anything, he found it admirable and a part of him was quietly relieved that time did all the adjusting between you and him. Despite being a bit too fussy at times, he'd be more than willing to compromise if that's what makes you happy.

Xavier:

You always steal his hoodies. They're big, soft, and smell like him, so you have two or three at home. Xavier scratches his head when he notices bare hangers in his closet. When you visit, he finally sees what's missing. No matter how many hoodies and jackets he buys for you, you always get your hands on his, almost becoming a problem. Now, he rotates his jackets, giving them to you on schedule.

Xavier's hair is too soft to be human. When he's on your lap, you massage his scalp and fidget with the ends of his silver hair. If you have hair elastics and a cute clip nearby, he ends up with his hair tied up or braided. He needs your help to take it off because it's too painful for him to do alone. Oops?

You prefer sitting beside him rather than across from him at a table. He didn't understand at first because he wanted to face you when eating. But when he's beside you, he slowly gets it. You like touching him one way or another. You enjoy your elbows touching or your thighs grazing each other. It's also convenient to lean slightly and rest your head on his shoulder.

Xavier loves bathing with you. The bathtub in his apartment is big enough for both. He likes the smell of your bath bombs and is sometimes fascinated by the toys or mini jewelry inside. Your back always presses against him, and he willingly holds you. On more stressful days, you light candles and open some cheap wine to enjoy in rose-covered water.

He's riddled with bite marks, even when not having sex. He's dozing off when you suddenly find his arm or leg appetizing. He jolts awake and tries to shake your grip, but it's too tight. When you've had enough, he stares at your work of art and wipes his saliva-coated limb. You grin, watching him wipe your fluids. Because of the frequency, he rarely lets his consciousness drift away when his bare arms and legs are around you.

When bathing alone, you use his shampoo instead of yours. It's surprising he doesn't use all-in-one shampoo and body wash; he uses baby shampoo. When confronted, he shrugs, saying it does the job, and recalls you like playing with his hair. His perfume and powder are also for babies.

In the eyes of Xavier, you were adorable even if your actions were questionable. You were cute, and he never once thought that your actions were a burden or suffocating. The things you do, the way you speak they were all precious in his eyes and Xavier understands that this was you way of showing your love for him. Because of that, he tolerates you every time you bite him.

Your gallery is full of his pictures. Candid photos you secretly take daily. Your favorite is when his cheeks are full of food, resembling a hamster. You take pictures when he's asleep, using you as a pillow. Sometimes, you're both looking at the camera, making random faces.

Author footnotes: I'm sorry if these were pretty general. I'm not the clingy type so I don't know how these type of people act but I wrote it with the things I observed from films and tiktok lol

Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost |

[beloveds-embrace]

Hello, I really liked your Dukedome au, and I imagine how reader would when Jhon told her about his boys and she was okay with it, but maybe, unconsciously, she doesn't want the guys to misunderstood her relationship whit Jhon, so she star treating them in a very distant/formal way(probably she doesn't even notice either, its not like she is upset or something)

Like, no more cute nicknames for them or cute giggles, she stop looking out for them as often and they notice.

I just like angst I'm sorry 😭

They would notice immediately because ever since your mind subconsciously accepted that no one here would chastise or correct you, you've basically turned the nickname into a part of their name, always said so gently. Or when you'd seek their company out yourself, simply happy to spend time with them.

But then you convince yourself that perhaps you are making them uncomfortable, that maybe you are getting between them and John especially, so you decide it'd be best to just stop. No more nicknames, no more purposely going to spend time with them, just a very calm and respectful camaraderie. It should be fine, shouldn't it? No doubt they'd even be happy, having more privacy without you encroaching on their space.

Wrong, wrong, wrong. First day, they notice that you aren't calling them with those dearly beloved nicknames in that sweet tone of yours, but they assume it might just be something distracting you. They are sure it'll get better.

Second day, they realize you haven't gone to any of them. Haven't had breakfast sitting with Johnny, haven't visited John in his office, haven't taken your walk with Kyle or checked the library to read with Simon. Going over the conversations each and everyone of them has had with you, trying to see if they’d hurt or upset you in any way only to come up empty-handed.

Third day is the last day. There’s genuine fear they might havr royally fucked up. But it doesn’t explain why you are still calm and gentle as ever, greeting them if you happen to run into them but no more cute nicknames or lingering to speak to them. It hurts more because they do hear you still use them for others, but not them.

Fourth day is the last straw. Kyle is there first thing in the morning, greeting you awake with a big bouquet from John and Simon and a tray of so much it’s surprising it even fit on the tray- made by Johnny and Kyle both.

“My lady,” he smiles at you, setting it down on the coffee table a little away. It takes effort not to frown when you just mumble a confused “Kyle?” With no nicknames like love or honey.

“My lady,” he repeats, voice soft and apologetic- almost desperate. “Whatever I’ve done- whatever we’ve done, we truly apologize for it.” He starts. And then asks for your forgiveness again, apologies falling out.

Meanwhile, you are just confused as fuck. And still in your nightgown. What is he- what are all of them even apologizing for, anyways?

[tearsofastraeax]

cw: ooops i might hafe felt a lil angsty, please don't hate me, also sorry in advance

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

your heart beat heavily in your chest as you stepped up to the bar the 141 usually hung out in after returning from their missions. the pit in your stomach had been sitting there for 3 weeks now, ever since you had that fight with simon. the whole way to the bar you had tried to convince yourself it wasn't as bad as you thought that you were just being your typical overthinking self, that he didn't hate you and it was just a stupid old fight, nothing to worry about. no, not at all. he would be excited to see you barge in through the doors and welcome you with open arms. after all, you haven't seen each other for a while now.

as you stared down at the street, your feet slowly carrying you towards your destination, you tried to remember what you had even fought about. it was some stupid misunderstanding, but simon had been so agitated, you were at a loss, couldn't get a second in to explain yourself.

"just go, please. i'm so done with hearing your excuses", he had muttered for the third time. 

and while you were desperate enough to try again the first two times, your self-respect was still intact enough for you to take the hint. so you had left. 

you were only able to contact him again days later, right before he had to leave on his mission. back then all he had said was for you to not worry about it.

and you had tried. you had tried your best. but the worries were eating you alive, so much so that you decided to surprise him. or ambush him? did he even want you there? was he excited to see you?

before you knew it, you arrived at the bar. your eyes frantically searching for the guys through the window, hoping to get a feel of the situation before you just barged in.

and there they were, gaz and soap laughing about one thing or the other, beers in their hand and standing close to price, who was as calm and collected as ever, as he sat on one of the bar stools, nursing on his pint.

but what made your heart skip a beat, your stomach fill with a heavy stone, weighing you down, and your hands getting clammy by just the sight of it, was simon. who so very casually leaned against the bar, a beer in the one hand and the other wrapped around some pretty blonde thing, that cozied up into his side and giggled at his jokes and remarks.

you weren't sure you could even belief your eyes. was this actually happening to you? was he that done with you? had you been too dumb to catch on to him wanting to break up with you? what had happened to the 'it's always gonna be you'? what had happened to the 'you're my calm'?

your stomach turned around at what you saw. your heart heavy and empty. a cold nausea drifted through your body like you had never experienced before.

and then his eyes met yours.

[carmenberzattosgf]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh. Nothing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[darkbluekies]

Be good for me

Yandere!doctor OC (husband) x reader

Summary: Someone has left an anonymous tip about a certain someone in Kry's house, causing the police to stop by to ask some questions

Warnings: poison, toxic household, manipulation, toxic parents,

Word count: 1.8k

Dr Kry wets the cloth and cleans the counter, trying his best to stay calm. Their voices don't want to leave his head. They're banging through his skull.

“Let us in! We haven't traveled all this way for you to turn us away at the door!”

“I didn't ask you to come.”

“We shouldn't have to ask. We raised you for eighteen years. You owe us this.”

“I owe you nothing.”

He shouldn't have opened the door from the beginning. Would have saved himself from a lot of headache and anger.

He has just baked two sourdough loaves to get his itching fingers under control. They are now resting under a towel, waiting for the oven to get his mind off of everything. You are sleeping soundly upstairs, and when you wake up there will be fresh bread straight out of the oven specifically for you. The familiar itch in his hands comes back. That must have been the worst thing. That they saw you. And their stares towards you. He knew that they would look at you that way. I knew that you couldn't do better.

He stops in his tracks and presses his knuckles against his temple. He squeezes his eyes shut. His fingers are itching again. He wants to kill them. He should have. But you were there. God, he could never do such a thing knowing that you are nearby.

A knock on the front door brings him back to reality. He feels a shiver run down his spine as his suspicions levels rise. Closest neighbor lives a kilometer away and he's never seen them. Who would want something from him?

He gives the stairs to the second floor a quick look to make sure that you haven't awoken to come see who's at the door before he walks over to the front door and unlocks it. Two men in uniform meet his eyes. Cops?

“Good day”, one of them says.

“Good day”, Dr Kry answers, trying his best not to sound suspicious. “What can I help you with?”

“We have gotten an anonymous notice about someone in this house and we would need to come in and search.”

They’re talking about you, it must be. He already knows who has given them this “anonymous hint” and it makes his blood boil. But he can’t refuse them entry. They’ll know right away that he has done something. Better to play along and not give them a reason to distrust him.

I will deal with mother and father later.

“Of course, come in”, he says and opens the door for them.

His heart beats in his chest. He gives the stairs a quick look. Don't wake up.

“Are you home alone?” one of the policemen asks.

He can’t lie because what will he say if they find you? They will be suspicious of him.

“No, my spouse”, he says and feels how his throat dries out at the mention of you.

Now you are out in the open. He can’t take it back now.

“Where is your spouse?”

“Upstairs. They're sleeping.”

“We would like to speak with them as well.”

And I would like to kill you. He nods quickly.

“They’re sick”, he says stiffly. “I don’t want them to strain their body by physical exertion.”

“They can still be in their bed, we just want to talk to them”, they reassure.

Dr Kry swallows a deep, frustrated sigh. He refuses to wipe his sweaty palms. They will pick up on it immediately. He is about to fold his arms over his chest, but they will recognize that too. Kry glances towards them.

He walks upstairs with them behind him. He opens the door to the bedroom and walks towards your shared bed. You look absolutely wonderful sleeping on your side — the right side — of the bed. Dr Kry shakes you gently until your tired eyes flutter open. They look at him in confusion, and then at the men in uniforms in fear. He takes your hand, squeezing tightly, warningly.

“We’re sorry for waking you”, one of the cops says. “We just need to ask you some questions.”

Your wonderful eyes look at him, looking for reassurance. Dr Kry’s heart tightens. They’re scaring you. His heart can't take it, but what can he do? He should remain as normal as he can for as long as possible. Shouldn't do anything dumb.

“It’s okay”, he whispers. “They’re not here to hurt you. I won't let it.”

“What kind of questions?” you ask quietly.

Your tone is just enough careful and distrusting. His good girl/boy.

“Just some simple ones”, the cop answers.

Dr Kry squeezes your hand again, letting you know what to answer. It's not one of those hard ‘keep your mouth shut’ squeezes, but more of a ‘go ahead, it'll be okay’.

“Could you step outside while we ask questions, Mr Kry?”

He wants to scream. This can't be happening! Instead, he nods. He squeezes your hand once again. Watch your mouth.

You watch him leave and gulp. The cops turn to you.

“What's your name?” one asks.

“Y/N”, you reply in the same uncertain tone as before. “W-What is going on?”

“We're here to ask you some questions.”

You haven't done anything. You couldn't have. You've been here day out and day in!

“About what?” you hesitate to ask.

“We got an anonymous tip about a woman/man being mistreated here by doctor Karl Kry. We came to talk to you.”

Their words make you go cold. Scared that he will somehow be able to read your thoughts, when Dr Kry hasn't been nearby you have allowed yourself to imagine a scenario like this. But even fantasizing about it when he hasn't been home has felt sinful, scared that he somehow has been able to put a camera in your brain and know what you're thinking. He would be angry if he knew how much you've wished for a miracle like this.

And happy if he knew how hesitant you are now. What says that they will believe you if you tell the truth? Who says that they will take you with them here and now? If he knows that you've said something he will be angry. He will hurt you, make sure you will never talk to a cop again.

And if you leave him you might not be cured from this repulsive poison.

He walks back and forth, feeling nauseous. What if they take you away from him? Will he have to kill both of them here? In front of you? The thought is sickening. He can't kill them when you're watching. But what will happen if he does kill them? Do other cops know that they're here? Will they send more if they notice that they never came back? Kry can’t kill everyone.

Be good for me. Don't do it, please. I will reward you if you keep your mouth shut. I will be so good to you if you just do me this one favor.

The door opens and the cops walk out. Dr Kry hurries to stop and pretends to be unconcerned. The two cops walk out. He can hear you cry behind them and before he can think clearly, he pushes past them and marshes over to you, grabbing your shoulders.

What have you told them? He wants to shout.

He tries to look in your eyes to see if they're drenched in guilt or fear, to know if you have betrayed him or not. They're full of sorrow and regret … but neither fear nor guilt. He hugs you tightly. Your fingers dig deliciously into his waist.

“I think it's time for you to leave now”, Dr Kry says coldly over his shoulder. “You've upset my darling. I need to take care of them.”

The cops give no response. Dr Kry cups your cheeks, makes you look at him.

“Did you tell?” he whispers inaudibly to the cops.

He already knows that you haven't, but he needs the satisfaction of you audibly confirming it.

“No”, you sob quietly and shake your head in his hands.

He breathes out and gives you a small smile as his thumbs caress your wet cheeks. His neck bends down to kiss your nose.

“I'll show them out”, he says.

His big hands let you go. He leaves the room and follows the cops out to the stairs. Just a few minutes ago he would have wanted nothing less than to push them down. Kry can't relax yet. He needs to see their car start and hear their engine tune out before he can lock the door and feel that everything is over. That he won again.

The cops stop at the front door. One of them turns to him.

“You're a doctor, correct?” he asks.

“Yes”, Kry replies.

“What is wrong with your spouse?”

He hates the word ‘weird’ in the same sentence as you. Nothing is wrong with you. He decides not to argue about the term, and doesn't want them to stay any longer. Instead, he gives them a diagnosis that is similar to what he has caused you, just in case they decide to research it. It feels like hours before they let him off the hook and finally, finally leave. Dr Kry waits by the door and listens for the police car disappearing through the forest. He closes the door, locks it and breathes out.

He glances towards the stairs and runs up to you. You're crying into your hands. Dr Kry sighs and sits down on the bed, watching you with a heavy heart. The worst thing is that he understands how you're feeling. You wanted to tell them — you had a golden opportunity — but you didn't because you were afraid of what he'd do to you and the cops in case it failed. He hesitates before taking you in his arms. He rests your trembling body against his.

“It's okay”, he whispers. “You did the right thing. I'm so proud of you. You don't need to cry.”

“I- … I-”, you sob, not knowing what exactly it is that you want.

Dr Kry starts to rock you back and forth, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“I know, I know”, he coos softly. “It's okay.”

“I just want to sleep”, you whisper.

“You can sleep. I will go check on the sourdough bread.”

He lets you go and wipes your tears. Before he leaves, he tucks you in and turns on some white noise. Kry picks up his phone as he walks downstairs. He doesn't have any of their numbers saved and have done his best to forget them. But if he knew his parents phone numbers, would he call?

His fingers are itching again. If he gets the chance, he will kill his parents, he's sure of that. This could have ended differently and it would be all their fault. He doesn't want to imagine the other endings. Dr Kry opens the oven, ducks away from the scorching hot mist welling out, and takes out the sourdoughs loafs. The urge to kill doesn't go away and he knows his fingers will be itching for a long time. Until he gets his hands on his mother and father.

[lovifie]

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 2: Captain’s Dinner

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

Warning/Notes: Captain Price x Reader (on this chapter only, the poly 141 is still building), Oral sex (F receiver), a bit nasty

The rest of the drive goes by in a breath, suspiciously, Simon didn't step on any more bumps, and it felt like being rocking a baby. Kyle got his hand inside your shirt, but as nasty as your acts before, now his hand was just innocently caressing your back, keeping you calm and pliant against him.

At some point, the car stops and you hear Simon talk with someone outside of the car.

“Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

The car moves again but for short this time. And just after a minute or two, the car stops and Simon turns off the engine. Everyone begins to exit the car, Kyle included with you in his arms. You notice people walking around, not too close but enough to see you, and you start to feel self-aware of the fact that you are being carried like a baby by the Sergeant.

“Can you put me down? I want to walk.” You say squirming a bit in the Sergeant’s arms.

“It's faster this way actually, doll.” He responds giving you a quick smile.

“At least put me on your back, it feels weird not seeing where we going.” You say turning your head around as much as you can.

Kyle snickers, making you turn to him with your eyebrows furrowed. “Doll, I actually would be really glad if you let me carry you like this the rest of the way because like this I can hide the fact that I came on my pants like a teenager.”

“Oh.” That's all you managed to say as you feel your cheek blushing. You can definitely feel your panties sticking to your pussy, but he must definitely feel his underwear hardening.

“Soap, Ghost, we will tomorrow at 0700 for a debriefing of today's events. Go rest now. Kyle, come into my office so we can find the key and free our little birdie.” Price orders behind you, relief flowing through your veins at the thought of being free.

Kyle enters the room, Price’s office by logic, and sits you on a desk. And once you are seated, he raises his arm and crouches down getting out of the weird knot of limbs.

He stands before you, free, as you look at him dumbfounded, still cuffed.

“H-how… You could do that?!” You ask looking at him. “I thought you didn't fit, that's why you haven't got out! You could do that?!”

Kyle simply chuckles at you while he adjusts his pants quickly and drops a peck on your forehead whispering against your skin. “Sorry, luv. But it was just too comfortable.” He turns to Price, announcing he is going to take a shower and leaves the room sending you a wink right before closing the door.

You turn to Price, looking a bit shocked still and he picks the key from the drawer at his desk. “Sorry about him, he is a good lad. Hope you were not uncomfortable, right?” He asks as he walks up to you, you put your hands together expecting him to unlock the cuffs, but instead, his hands travel to the back of your tights and he picks you up forcing you to put your hands around his shoulder (almost strangling him for a second before you remember to move your hands above his head)

You let him be, too tired already to fight anymore, and he sits you on the other side of the desk. In front of his chair, once you are seated, he sits on his chair and gets between your legs.

The sight in front of you shouldn't be allowed, broad shoulders making you physically spread your legs to accommodate him, blue eyes looking up at you and warm hands picking yours. “Let's take these off, yeah?”

“Yes, please.” You whisper back, not even sure what you are begging for.

Price takes the cuffs back, furrowing when he sees the red mark where the metal dented into your soft skin. He caresses both wrists drawing circles and then one of them goes higher on your arm up to the bandages. “How's the pain?” He asks looking at your arm.

“Hm? Oh, that… honestly, I always thought bullet wounds would hurt a lot more. It's not too bad, I almost had forgotten about it.” You say smiling back at him.

He chuckles back shaking his head. “I'm definitely having you give a pep talk to the rookies. Sorry about your blouse, as well. I'll pay for a new one.” He says caressing your arm.

“Oh, there is no need, really. This is an old one, I should have thrown it out a bit ago anyway.” You admit shaking your hands to let him know there is no need.

“I insist. And if you get any medical bills, or need any physiotherapy sessions or anything. We will pay for them, we'll take care of you, doll.” He says standing up to his full height still between your legs.

“You keep saying that…”

“What do you mean?”

“That you will take care of me.”

“Yes. We will if you allow us.”

You look at his face, trying to decipher what he means. But the intensity of his gaze pulls the air out of your lungs leaving you breathless, the heat from his body is scorching against you and the ground seems so far away you feel like you falling off a cliff.

“Are you okay, doll?” He asks softly looking to meet your gaze again cupping your face.

“Yeah.” You say softly pulling his hand away and you put a hand on his chest pushing him back. “I-I should get going, I have work in the morning it's better if I get back home.”

“You can stay the night if you want, I'll drive you to work tomorrow.” He quickly responds like he doesn't want you to go.

“Capt- John.” You correct yourself earning a smile from him. “John, I need to shower, and I don't have any clean clothes, really you have done more than enough for me, I will just go home.”

You stay looking at him, waiting for him to move back so you can hop off the desk and get out. But he doesn't, instead, he gets closer and moves both hands to cup your face making you look at him. “You are thinking too hard, doll.”

And then, as natural as it is to blink, he kisses you.

A soft peck right on the corner of your mouth to test the waters, a soft peck on the other side, and then, softly, almost like melting at the touch, a kiss right to the centre of your lips.

He moves slightly back, enough to be able to speak and ask. “You solid?”

And you nod.

You are not even a hundred per cent sure you know what he means, but you know that whatever the man in front of you would ask, you would say yes.

You shouldn't, you don't know him. You only know his name and his position as Captain. You know your mind is not clear, right now he is your saviour, he is been taking care of you since you met, and he is so strong, so gentle with you, so handsome.

You shouldn't be leaning in for another kiss, but you are.

There is always tomorrow for regrets.

But tonight, all your senses scream John Price.

Never did you though a kiss could get you so hot and bothered, he only has his hands on your face and his lips on yours and you are already panting.

He moves forward, hips crashing onto yours making you gasp and he uses the opportunity to get his tongue on your mouth.

You can taste the tobacco on his tongue, swimming down your body. His hands move, taking your hair back into a ponytail and he pulls back. It stings and you groan softly, shifting to a moan when you feel his lips down your throat.

His moustache tickles the soft skin of your neck in contrast with the scorching feeling of his breath. “Who beat me to it?” He asks, chuckling drily looking at something on your neck.

Fucking Kyle.

“Better to erase it, doll.” He says, possessiveness taking over him. And there are no more soft kisses, now he makes out, no, he devours your neck like a madman. Sucking and biting, feeling the mark erupt and your panties to grow wetter.

You bite your lip to try and not make an embarrassment of yourself from how badly you want to moan, and you take his shirt out of his pants. Running your hands under the shirt, needing to feel him.

“I hope you don't mind, sweetheart. Since it is already ruined…” He trails off as he grabs your shirt over your chest and pulls, hard, pulling the buttons of the fabric and ripping it where it didn't give in.

He almost growls when he sees the skin giggle and he dives right into your chest. His hands rest on your waist pulling you forward him, pulling your shirt out of your pants.

You try to take off your jacket, but the sudden movement causes a sharp pain in your arm making you groan in pain. Price quickly detaches himself from your skin to look at your face, alarmed he hurted you. “Sorry, you alright love?” He asks feeling guilty. You shake your head, only worrying him more and then you add. “It's not you, the jacket. Got stuck on the bandages or something; can you help me, please?” He smirks mischievously at you. “Help you to undress? Oh, darling, that's my pleasure.”

He kisses you on your lips again, taking off your jacket carefully and then your shirt. He pulls your bra strap down your shoulder, leaving your bra downside, your boobs out and pushes up. He cups one of your boobs groaning on your mouth when you moan softly and then bends down to get the other one inside his mouth.

He twirls his tongue around your nipple, savouring the taste of your skin. You move your hand to the back of his head, and when he gets lower, right under your boob over your ribs, and he bites you as you pull his hair moaning his name. “John…”

“Yeah, darling, moan my name like that.” He mumbles against your skin before he goes back to your mouth. “You taste like fucking candy, sweetheart. Can't fucking wait to taste all of your.”

“Do it. Do it, please.” You say against his mouth, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“Aw, darling, what a fucking sight. Asking so nicely, how can I say no?” He says between kisses as he undoes your pants.

He lifts your ass from the desk with an arm as he pulls down your pants and your underwear all together. He leaves you again on the desk and undoes the clasp of your bra taking it off. Leaving you completely bare on his desk, while he remains completely dressed. The vest is even still on.

“Fuck… I must have been a fucking saint on my last life to be worth it of this sight, angel.” He says looking up and down your body as he moves his hands from your waist up to your face to give you a kiss. “I'm gonna make you feel good, love. So, so good…” he trails off as he begins to give kisses down your jaw, neck, collarbones, sternum, tummy, and just when he is about to reach your mount. He pulls back making you whine. “Shh, pretty, just getting comfy.”

He grabs the chair from before sitting down, gets closer between your legs and pulls them over his shoulder forcing you to lean on your back using the elbow that is not hurt to prop yourself up enough to see him.

He kisses the inside of your tights, from your knee and higher, higher, higher… you can feel his beard on that soaking part of you where you need him the most. But he doesn't indulge you, instead, he goes back to your knee and high again. Teasing you, leaving you panting, aching, clenching around anything, needy, desperate.

“John… please… no more teasing…” you beg, feeling desperate for him.

“Poor baby, already soaking.” He says looking directly at your cunt, and you feel as he presses a thumb on your clit making you shudder at the feeling and he slowly moves it down your slit, reaching your dripping hole and pressing it, but without getting it inside. Just collecting your juices and driving you mad.

He takes the thumb up to his lips licking it while he looks at your eyes. “Just as I thought, fucking candy, love.” You want to complain, to grab his hair and shove his face against your cunt but the only thing that leaves your lips is a bratty whine, too horny to think straight.

You feel Price chuckle against your skin, and when you finally feel ready to tell him off, he presses his tongue flat against your clit turning your brain to absolute mush as you let go of a moan worth of a porn video as you let your head fall back.

He moves his head up and down, letting his tongue move between your folds; collecting your arousal mixing it with his spit making a mess on his beard.

His index finger moves to your entrance, slowly getting it inside stretching you slightly because of the size of his hands. He sucks at your clit, almost making out with it. And once he feels satisfied with it, he gets a second finger inside.

You keep moaning his name, like a mantra almost, not being able to remain quiet when he begins to thrust his finger in and out of your wet cunt. The sounds, the squelch, the sight, delightful.

You have been given head before, but never like this. It never had you begin for them to keep going, to not let you hanging, never this desperate. But John Price, it has you wishing you could kiss the terrorist of your neighbour just for putting you in his line of vision.

He curls his fingers inside of you pressing a point that has you falling on your back hitting your head load enough for him to chuckle against your cunt, but before he can lift his head to check on you, you just get your hand on his head keeping him in place.

Caressing his hair, spreading your legs even wider, he eats you out like a man starved. Like he hasn't eaten in days like he just found a water fountain in the middle of the desert.

You realise then, that the reason why you have never felt like this before with any ex-lover, is because you have never felt this desired. You can feel Price moaning against your cunt, and it makes you wonder who is enjoying it more.

Not for long though, because you begin to feel the knot on your stomach get tighter. More and more tight, you feel your toes curl and you close your eyes letting your mouth open as you feel the knot coming undone like an elevator free-falling. A high-pitched moan leaves your lips that in any other situation would make you feel embarrassed and your tights clasp around Price’s head when he doesn't relent on his attack.

He helps you ride out your orgasm as you cover your face with your hands, the light in the room is suddenly too bright, and after a couple of seconds, you look up at him.

And the sight…

He is sitting, leaning back against the chair, manspreading wide, an elbow resting on the armrest as he lazily licks clean the fingers that were just inside of you. Absolutely content with himself and his accomplishments, a sight absolutely devilishly delicious.

You notice the tent on his pants, and you try to touch him with your feet. But he grabs your ankle, and you don't have enough energy on you to push it.

“As much as I would like to keep going, doll.” He says letting your leg down and coming up closer to your face. “You can barely keep your eyes open, so I think it's time to rest.”

He stands up, goes somewhere behind you that you guess is the bathroom because of the sound of water and a bit later, he is back. He picks you up, and lays down on a sofa, with you on top.

A bathroom and a sofa inside of his personal office, he really is a military captain. He covers the both of you with a blanket, he gives you a kiss to the forehead and before you know it, you are out.

Post-nut clarity doesn't hit until a couple of hours later.

You are naked, in an unknown man's office, far away from home, with no phone, no keys, no money, no clothes, ashamed.

So you do the only thing you can do, you slip away from the sleeping handsome man, get dressed as fast as you can without making any noise and leave the room. You don't even bother to put on your blouse, choosing to just close your jacket.

Once outside, you let a sigh escape your lips. You know the military base, it is actually not that far away from your home, less than an hour walking back.

Are you excited about walking back home at the break of dawn alone? No. Do you have another choice? Not really, not any that would help reduce the walk of shame you found yourself doing.

So you get your hands on your pockets and start doing your half a marathon back home.

And just as the sun is beginning to pick over the horizon, you reach your home.

Just last night there were dozens of police cars, military workers, everything, the whole paraphernalia. But now? It is just dead silence, no a soul in sight, as if nothing has ever happened.

The janitor calls your name when he sees you, he gives you your keys and tells you that the police dropped them by when they cleaned everything.

You wait for the elevator and make your way up to your floor. On apartment 608, there is a police notice, banning everyone from getting close to the crime scene. There are bullet holes and some bloody handprints on the walls, a blood splutters a bit too close to the height your arm is.

You shake your head trying to forget about it, and open your door. Once inside, you lock the door and look for your phone. Only to remember that it must be in your bag, in your car, where you dropped it when you tried to run.

You look at the clock on the wall that you always forget about, and realise you have 20 minutes to get ready if you want to make it time to work. So get at it.

Most of those 20 minutes, go into taking a shower. You feel dirty, mainly because you are, but also because you feel used. You think about Price and Kyle, handsome military men, they have probably visited countries you don't even know exist and they probably have a lover in each of them.

You are probably just another one, and you let them in so easily. They must have barely felt any satisfaction from such an easy catch.

You feel like crying for being so silly, but a voice in your head stops you. The voice in your head that picks you up whenever you fuck something up. Don't cry! Why would you cry?! They used you just as much as you used them! And they are not crying! So neither are you! You made a grown man cum on his pants by rubbing yourself a bit and an even grown-er man basically get on his knees to eat you out! So don't cry!

So you get out of the shower with another attitude, you are going to get a hold of the situation, you are going to get space between these men and yourself, and you are going to be just fine!

“Son of a bitch!” You exclaim when you see yourself in the mirror, if you had thrown yourself down the stairs there would be fewer bruises on your body. Well, not bruises, hickeys.

You huff getting out of the bathroom to get dressed, and then back to the bathroom to cover all the hickeys.

By divine grace, you make on time for work. You are exhausted, starving and if any of your coworkers spoke to you today just a bit out of tone, you would chew their arms off. But luckily, everything goes right.

At least, until you get back home, and the first thing you see when you get off the elevator, is a masked man standing in front of your door.

I guess it is a series now, I don't know where I'm going with it but there is still a couple of things I have thoughts about.

If you guys have any ideas or scenarios please, tell me hehe

And if you want me to tag you on the next part drop a coment 💗

[nonotnolan]

Trial Period

"Harry, what the fuck is wrong with you?" Blake's voice rang out through the apartment, though I couldn't quite tell why my roommate was currently mad at me. Still, if I didn't talk him down from whatever ledge he was on, he was just going to get more and more pissy. I sighed, and minimized the spreadsheet I was working on.

"Blake, you know I'm working from home today. Whatever you're mad about, you can come in here and talk to me about it. I'm sorry I left some dirty dishes in the sink, or whatever." He must have been mad, whatever I had done-- usually he waited until after he showered to talk to me.

He stomped into the living room so that he could stare down at me. "Oh no. You are in way more trouble than that. I just had the most interesting conversation at the gym today. Some beanpole fairy came up started flirting with me, and when I told him I didn't swing that way, guess what he did?" He paused, clearly waiting for me to confess to something, but I still had no idea why he was upset. "He pulled out his phone, and showed me a whole-ass conversation on Grindr with someone using my photos!"

I couldn't help but laugh, which certainly did not help him calm down. "Okay, and? Look, I'm sorry you got catfished, but I don't know why you're mad at me about it. You're trying to start a modeling career, right? It's one of the unfortunate risks of the job. I'm sorry that one of your Instagram followers has no sense of chill, but I don't see why that makes it my fault."

He shoved his phone into my face. "You see this photo? I downloaded it for a scheduled post, but it's from a gig that hasn't released yet. I'm not allowed to share any of those photos on social media until the magazine spread drops. You're the only other person who could have gotten onto my phone and grabbed it."

Well, that was a complication that I wasn't expecting. I stared at him, trying and failing to think of a loophole that sounded plausible. There was only one thing left to do. "Seth, I know you're in here," I said, loudly projecting my voice. "I know you wanted to try out a few different guys before you committed, but that's not gonna work anymore. The trial period is officially over. You broke it, you bought it. If you don't take Blake, he's going to ruin everything."

Blake scowled at me. "Who the fuck is Seth? Harry, what in the fuck is going on?"

"You're so cute when you're confused," I said, pinching his cheek. He was already pissed at me, I may as well go all out. Besides, I needed to give Seth enough time to prepare. "I'm not actually Harry. I haven't been for the last two weeks, not that you noticed. I'm actually a ghost who decided that this apartment would be a great place to find some new bodies to inhabit. And let's be honest, this whole complex is jam packed with hot, young studs like yourself." I couldn't help but flash an excited grin, and I think I might have let my real eyes flash for a few seconds. Well, whatever. I no longer needed to worry about keeping secrets from Blake.

I had clearly spooked him-- he started creeping backwards toward the door. "Harry, you're scaring me. That's not funny. Don't joke about that sort of thing, Harry. Just… fuck, delete that profile and promise me you won't do it again."

"Like I said, I'm not Harry," I said, grabbing my laptop bag and putting it in arm's length. I pulled out the mason jar that had Harry's soul in it, and placed it on the couch. "This is Harry. Or, what's left of him, anyway." Harry's soul fluttered around in a panic, banging into the glass walls as it tried to escape. Or maybe it was trying to warn Blake about what was about to happen next? It didn't really matter.

Blake had turned to run, but he didn't make it more than a few steps into the kitchen before he fell to the ground, as if something had slammed into his back. Seth hated possessing people using brute force, but his error hadn't left us with many other options. "Sorry for the close call, Phil," he said, adjusting his posture. Where Blake was constantly puffing his chest and arching his back, Seth had more of a forward slouch to his shoulders. It was a posture I was very familiar with-- regardless of the bodies we wore, we had been together long enough to recognize each other's presence.

"At least Blake has a good body," Seth said as he pulled himself up off the ground. "I was probably going to end up choosing this one anyway, to be honest." He started feeling up his chest, giving his nipples a few test pinches and letting out a soft moan. "Oh yeah, he's just as sensitive as I remembered. Do you have any spare jars in your bag? Obviously I didn't have time to put him to sleep before I possessed him, and he's just screaming non-stop in my head right now."

"Sounds like that's what you get for being careless," I said. "You know that helping you expel the soul is my favorite part. I'm not letting you rub one out in the bathroom, we're doing this the right way."

Seth pinched the bridge of his nose. "Come on, babe. You're at work for another five hours. I already said I was sorry, please don't force me to put up with the flesh owner for that long."

I closed my laptop and started unbuttoning my shirt. "Who said anything about waiting for me to get off work? No one tracks my activity as long as I get my work done on time." I leaned back and started groping Seth's hefty bulge. "Besides, we both know that Harry is trapped in a shit job. I bet we can get him something that pays way better."

He leaned over to give me a deep kiss. "You know, one of these days you'll get tired of turning your new hosts into porn stars," he said, as I grabbed one of the empty soul jars.

"Maybe so," I admitted. "But that day is not today. This body is wasted on white collar work. Anyway, you know the drill. Time for lube-- I want you to ride my cock while I sit here." He placed the jar underneath his hardening cock, ready to catch his load.

The first time we fucked in new bodies was always my favorite. Seth came first, coating the inside of the jar with a layer of jizz in addition to Blake's soul. I wasn't too far behind, since Harry's body was new to gay sex and still quite sensitive. I rolled off to the side and basked in the afterglow while Seth sealed the jar and placed it next to Harry's soul.

"Part of me still wants to be mad at you for almost ruining everything with that 'trial period' idea of yours," I said, as he laid down next to me to cuddle. "Next time we need to pick new hosts, we're picking one and done again. None of this trying out multiple bodies rubbish, it's too much risk."

Seth just smiled and ran his fingers through my hair. "Fine, no more shopping around, I promise. But you know you can't stay mad at me." As we laid there, holding each other tight, I had to admit that he was right.

[irisintheafterglow]

just too soft for all of it

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: taylor swift - "sweet nothing"

summary: you only call bakugo when you need his body. what happens when you need him for a different reason? (prohero!bakugo x reader)

wc: 1.1k

cw/tags: fwb to lovers, no explicit smut (just implications and allusions but mdni just in case), descriptions of anxiety and a panic attack, angst/comfort with happy ending, swearing, pet names (sweetheart, baby, babe), broken glass, stubborn reader and even more stubborn katsuki

note: is this my coping mechanism for all the 'casual' inspired fics i've seen lately? possibly. will i continue to keep reading said 'casual' inspired fics? definitely. haven't written kats in a hot minute, hope you like it :)

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!

"I need you." 

"I'm busy. This new report shit is going to be the death of me, I swear–"

"I need you right now. Please." Your voice shakes and he mistakes it for horny desperation.

"Aww, you need me that bad? Need me to come and make you feel good, is that it?" He smirks patronizingly and you hear it through the phone, despite your vision going in and out of clarity.

"Katsuki," you breathe, and his hand goes deathly still over his paper. You never said his name like that; you always addressed him outside of the covers as 'Bakugo' or 'shithead' or 'asshole.' He hears you swallow, his senses finally returning and realizing just how exhausted you sound. "I can’t breathe–I think I'm...I think I'm having a panic attack and-and I can't calm down and it's–it's too much and–"

"Breathe, sweetheart," he says before you can continue, his hand flinging open his front door and blasting himself into the darkness. "Just hold on, I'm on my way." 

By the time he’s let himself into your apartment, it’s nearly midnight. He considers toeing off his shoes at the door but quickly decides against it when he spots the broken glass scattered across your dining room floor. You’re hugging your knees close to your chest, so backed up against the floor cabinets that he almost missed you when he looked for you in the kitchen. The glass crunches beneath his shoes as he crouches down to look at you, relief flooding him as he realizes the glass didn’t injure you. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, trembling even as he peels your arms away from your sides. “It just–I was making late dinner and one of my glasses broke and everything just came crumbling down…” He’d never seen you like this; you were always the collected one, the one who was always teasing him for being stressed when, in reality, you were just better about hiding all the weight on your shoulders. Your breath comes in short inhales and pained exhales and it’s like Katsuki’s body instinctually knows what to do. Taking your hands in his, he presses them against his chest at the exact spot where you can feel his heartbeat. It’s steady as a steam engine, thumping below your fingertips. In through the nose. Without breaking eye contact, he exhales a deep breath, nodding encouragingly when you copy him. Out through the mouth. 

“That’s it, baby. Just like that,” he murmurs, breathing deeply again and again and again until your body ceases its fight or flight response. “You’re doing great, sweetheart. Just keep breathing.” 

“Katsuki…” 

“We’ll talk after, I promise,” he gently reassures you, softer than you’d ever heard him speak. “For now, I need to make sure you’re okay.” In through the nose, out through the mouth. Even when he knows the situation is de-escalated, he doesn’t dare move his hands, nor stop modeling deep breathing. He waits for you to say that you’re done, to yank your hands away and mock him for being so caring and thoughtful, attributes that didn’t come with your strictly physical relationship. You don’t; you stay there on the floor with him until the tension in your body completely releases, leaving you slumped against your cabinets. You move to position your knees under you, but his hands catch your wrists a split second before your palms hit the floor. You glance at him with a confused expression. “The glass, babe. Lemme put you on the couch and I’ll clean it up.”

“You don’t need to do that. I can clean it when I’m–” You’re cut off by the sensation of being lifted off the ground, his arms effortlessly bringing you against his chest and laying you on your living room couch. “Wait, I can just clean once you leave."

“Stop,” he grumbles with a burst of intensity that takes you aback. “I’m gonna take care of you, so sit and wait until I’m done. Got it?” You blink at him but he doesn’t relent, and you’re forced to nod and wait as he meticulously sweeps and vacuums every single particle of glass until sleep is nudging at your eyelids. He’s just stuck your vacuum back in the closet as you muster up the energy to stand, stumbling in the direction of your room. “Fucking hell, you don’t know when to quit,” he mutters, sweeping your legs out from under you again and carrying you the rest of the way to your bed. 

“Who knew you could be so doting?” 

“You’re mocking me when I’m literally carting you around your own place. Unbelievable,” he scoffs, carefully settling you on the covers and taking a seat at the edge. 

“I’m not being sarcastic,” you reply, your eyelids sleepily opening and closing. “I really am surprised that you’re taking care of me like this.” 

“Of course I’m taking care of you, dumbass,” he grunts. “I know we said no attachment, but you’re more than a body to me.” His voice quiets but you hear it anyway, smiling against the pillow. 

“When were you gonna tell me that, idiot?”

“Not sure. Was waiting for the perfect moment.” He shrugs, reaching over to run his hand up and down the side of your thigh. 

“And you think this is it?” 

“It’s definitely not, but it felt like the right thing to say.” You hum in contentment and he slyly rubs his hand backward just to see what happens. 

“Easy there, cowboy,” you chuckle, looking up at him over your shoulder. “Even when I’m broken, you can’t resist grabbing my ass.” 

“You’re not broken. Don’t say that about yourself. And even if you were,” he scolds, though you know there’s no venom behind it. “Guess who’s gonna be the one to put you back together?” You hum again and he can feel your consciousness slipping. “You gonna let me stay the night, sweetheart?” 

“Is the sky blue, dumbass?”

“Just checking,” he grins, positioning himself beside you and flipping you over to face him. You groan in protest but still mold yourself into Katsuki’s chest, his arm securing you against his body. “G’night.”

“Night, Katsuki. Don’t let your alarm wake me up early or I’ll kick you in the dick,” you warn, your body further relaxing in his warm safety. 

“After everything I’ve done for you tonight? So ungrateful.” You snort, drifting off with a smile on your face that makes his heart stutter. He double checks that all his alarms are off and, for good measure, turns off his phone entirely. No one’s reaching him tonight, not when you’re his first priority. When he’s sure you’re out, he whispers the real reason why, even when it wasn’t a booty call, he rushed to you in the middle of the night. 

“Mmm,” you hum and he freezes, having no idea whether you were responding or just making that noise in your sleep. “I love you too, Katsuki.” 

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! commissions and nsfw requests can be sent through my fiverr! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[justauthoring]

tears.

tears -> the blood of the soul; where the soul bleeds, you cry.

a/n -> okay can we PLEASE talk about that finaleeeee

pairing -> sanemi shinzagawa x f!reader

oddly, you're more afraid then you thought you'd be.

despite it all, you had believed you were prepared for it—the final battle. given that you'd been working towards this point since that fateful day you joined the demon slayers. years of training, of missions, of pouring blood and sweat and losing loved and cared ones that all lead to this battle.

and yet, you were afraid.

terrified, even, you think. if the shakiness of your hands are anything to go by, you'd venture to guess that yes, terrified sounded more accurate than just afraid. it feels like your heart hasn't stopped pounding against your chest since the hashira meeting nor that you've been able to properly catch your breath.

always short, always gasping—you're desperate for any sense of calm that won't come because the mind was cruel. and reality was even more so.

you'd faced death so many times now that you'd believed this one last, final time wouldn't matter as much. a necessary step that would decide fate once and for all. it was this last battle, you figured, that would decide who came out on top.

but maybe it isn't dying that scares you. yes, you think, it isn't that you're afraid of dying but that you're afraid of—

"i swear, none of those damn idiots will have the slightest clue on how to even begin training—"

it isn't abnormal for sanemi to come in complaining about something or another. what is odd is the tears he's faced with the second he walks in, lips left parted as he cuts himself off. the concern that floods his gaze is instant and all previous thoughts are gone from sanemi's mind as he rushes over to you.

"y/n?" his voice is soft in a way it only ever is with you and strangely, it makes your heart pound more frantically against your chest. "what's wrong?"

his hands are pressing against your cheeks, pulling your watery gaze steadily on his own. you feel your lip tremble and a shaky gasp pulls from your lips, beyond your control, the second your eyes focus in on his own.

you have half the mind to think that you should lie, that it's not fair to burden sanemi with your own childish fears. you do think it, but you lose your own battle the second you feel his thumb graze the skin of your cheek and take in the expression of worry and concern, blazingly present, in his eyes.

"i'm scared," you admit breathlessly. it's hard to admit, even to him, hard enough to even realize it subconsciously and the words feel wrong and like poison—yet, they're true all the same.

and your hands instinctively raise, pressing into him for any semblance of comfort you can steal from him. you haven't felt such terror since the day demons cruely ripped everything you hold dear from your hands—since you were coated in blood and forever petrified from the horrors of their corpses.

"i... i'm afraid of losing you."

it's a ghosted whisper—you don't want to say the words and put the pressure of that desperation on sanemi's shoulders. he has more than enough weight holding him down and you'd never want to add to it on purpose. but you're tongue is lose and your fear is blinding your rational thought and when he looks at you like that, you don't want to lie.

sanemi's hands are firm and never wavering, and as he cups your cheeks he forces you to refocus on him and solely him.

"y/n. y/n."

you stared at him with blurred vision, breath gasping and nails pinching into the clothe of his yukata; you grip him as if he'll disappear from your very touch that moment alone.

"y/n, look at me."

he's leaning, pressing his forehead against your own and swallowing your attention up so there's nothing but him to focus on.

"breathe," he guides, voice gentle but hoarse and rough. "you need to breathe."

you force yourself to listen. force yourself to inhale when he does, soothing yourself by following his movements until, slowly, the fog clears to allow you to see sanemi before you clearly. it still feels like you're short, still missing that last bit of air that would calm you, but it's better than it had been seconds prior and you savour the sanity of it completely.

"good," he praises, brushing your hair away from your face where it'd fallen.

you shake your head; "sanemi—"

"it's okay," he assures, the words just a little too rushed in a way that causes you to blink. it gives you the momentum to notice the slight, barely noticeable tremble of sanemi's hands against your cheeks or the echoing breaths he lets outs himself.

your eyes widen and you step towards him.

"i'm scared too," he admits.

it's admission that means more than anything else could've. in all your years of knowing sanemi, he's always chosen anger and passion over calm and truth. he'd never ever admit to anyone that he, the wind hashira, was scared of anything—he was all fire and strength, racing into battle with skill he'd bled over perfecting and came out the other side a winner.

he had the confidence to boost it. never wavering in his own ability.

so his admittance of fear is enough to pull you from your own racing thoughts and focus on the fear he lets slip—if anything, for your sake.

"but this is what we're trained for," he reminds, fingers brushing against your skin—soothing and a constant, pressing reminder of his presence. you're more than thankful for it. "and it's our duty as hashira to defeat muzan."

you nod, slow, unsure. "i know," you whisper, "i know. it's just..." and your grip tightens, knuckles white and hands still trembling, gripping his clothes in your palm and trying to be as close to him as possible. "i don't want to lose you."

"i don't want to lose you either," sanemi breathes.

you stare into his gray, swirling eyes, lips pressed tightly together.

"i can't promise you we'll make it through this, but know that i will fight like hell to get back to you."

you blink, the tears welling as his words mean more than sanemi could ever possibly know. despite it's brutal honesty, those words are exactly what you need to hear in that moment.

because there is no other option. sanemi is right when he says it's your duty and you have every intention of following through, even if it lead to your death — but the sincerity in his voice as he promises to do anything in his ability to see you on the other side...

it's all you need to hear.

"and i hope you'll do the same."

"of course," you nod, not wasting a second before assuring him of that fact. you press your forehead against his own, lips hovering before his, and sink into him as much as you possibly can. "of course i will. i promise."

he's nodding, the words loss on him as he relishes in your presence just as much as you have been his.

and then, when his lips press against your own, you savour it — not because it might be your last, but because it'll be your strength to make sure it isn't.

[starboye]

pairing: steve rogers x male reader

request: Captain America falls in love with his fellow big bubble butt Twunk male reader avenger. Steve asked him on a date which leads to Steve and male reader losing their virginity on the first date; which eventually has them both in a long term married life full of happiness, love, and hot steamy sex with the super soldier with his big hung 🍆 and a twunk with the big 🍑.

warnings: smut, both of you are virgins, cursing, and fluff

a/n: idk how I feel about this one, it feels a lil iffy

you had just gotten back from your most recent mission where you had to stop some robbers from getting away with some stolen bank money with steve and lets just say it wasn't the easiest thing ever as it seemed like steve was occupied thinking on something else "hey what was that out there you seemed preoccupied" you say playfully nudging him "oh it was nothing just thinking" he stammers trying to avoid eye contact with you "well leave the thinking for off the field" you chuckle "yeah" he smiles.

just before you get out the door steve calls out "hey y/n would you wanna go out to dinner sometimes" he asks nervously "are you asking me on a date rogers" you ask with a grin "yeah i guess i a-" he says before getting cut off by the feeling of you kissing his cheek "well than its a date" you say smiling before walking away as steve stands there as his heart is pounding so hard it feels like it gonna burst out his chest.

you meet steve at a fancy restaurant and you guys find a table "I just wanna say you look amazing" he says "well thank you I'd say you look rather dashing yourself" you chuckle "thanks" steve says, you order your food and it soon comes out "wow this looks amazing, how did you even manage to book a place like this I heard they always have a full house" you inquire "compliments to tony he pulled a couple of strings" he says "I'll be sure to say thanks".

after finishing dinner you both walk down the street talking about the latest drama in the avengers compound "hey do you wanna go back to my place" you ask him "y- yeah I would love to" steve stammers at the sudden question before you grab steves hand and playfully run to your apartment, when you get to your apartment you show a nervous steve around.

"sorry it's a little messy I haven't been here in a while" you laugh throwing away done trash that was on your counter and kicking some clothes out the way "oh dont worry my place doesn't look any better" he says looking for some place to sit "oh yeah you can sit on the couch" you say moving some junk off the couch before sitting down on it with steve.

"I really enjoyed tonight" steve says with the biggest smile on his face "I did too" you say admiring steve, after a few seconds of silence steve leans in and kisses you before jumping back just as quickly "I'm sorry I didn't mean too do that" he tries to quickly apologize "don't be sorry I liked it" you say moving onto steves lap and kissing him deeper than before, his hands move to you back holding it firmly.

"should we" you trail off "I'm okay with it if you are" steve says with a bigger smile than before him now about to sleep with his first and best of all his crush "I am" you say taking your shirt off leaving your torso exposed for steve, he feels up and down your body watching how your nipples perk up with each light touch from his digits "you okay there big boy" you chuckle "y-yeah just new to this whole thing" steve says still amazed by your body.

"don't worry it's my first time too" you reassure "really" steve says, on the outside he seemed calm but on the inside he was freaking out at the feeling knowing he was gonna be your first and you were gonna be his first "you wanna take this off" you ask tugging at the hem of his shirt, he quickly obliges and takes off his shirt his broad body now on full display for you.

you run your fingers along his chest, tracing random shapes and admiring his figure "you wanna maybe do it" steve nervously asks "id be happy to" you say getting up and putting on a mini show for steve, stripping off your pants and underwear in an erotic way, you watch as steve follows every one of your movements with his eyes his cock now begging to be let out of its confines.

"how about we get these off of you" you say pulling steves pants off and watching his dick jump out and stand up straight resembling the american flag "I didn't expect you to have a dick like this" you say stunned by the mans large dick "well the super soldier serum enhanced some other things to" steve chuckles "well either way it still looks delicious" you say licking his tip slowly watching him shudder under your touch.

"how are you so good at that" steve asks trying to avoid your seductive gaze "I don't know maybe I just learned it" you say licking his slit, "I bet your bussy feels better" steve says choking down a moan "what" you say holding back a laugh "what" he says innocently "did you just say bussy" you ask almost laughing "what I heard it off porn" he says shrugging his shoulders "yeah you're in desperate need of some hole it seems" you say straddling his bare lap.

steves breath hitches in his throat at the bare feeling "can I kiss you" steve asks trying to control his breathing "you don't have to ask me steve" you say pulling him into a kiss "I wanna feel you" steve begs "okay okay" you chuckle before smearing some saliva on his dick "okay three, two, one" you cut down before sinking onto his dick slowly with a moan.

steves hands quickly find their way to your hips and tightly hold them in place, you sit there for a couple seconds and get used to his large size before looking at him with a "are you okay" look and he replies with a nod, you lift up and sink back down in a rhythm with steve groaning at each move, "I feel like I'm gonna cum already" he says with tightly shut eyes before throwing his head back.

"me too" you moan, your moan brings steves head back up to watch you moan all over him, a dream he's jerked off to multiple times in one day "never did I think id have this chance with you" steve scoffs "well here I am now" you kiss steve before moaning into his mouth as you sink down again "fuck" you huff before cumming all over steves stomach him watching in full awe.

"nghhh" he moans next as he cums in you, his teeth tightened together and eyes shut as his hips erratically thrust upwards trying to ride out his high, after a few more seconds steve finishes and lets out a long breathy huff "fuck that was good" you say dropping your head on his shoulder "sorry for cumming so fast" steve sweetly apologizes "you're good you felt to good" you say "well thank you" he smiles.

it may have only been the first date but steve already wanted to marry you he thought of this so hard he didn't even realize he was staring at you "earth to steve, you okay" you ask with a chuckle "yeah just thinking" he reassures with a smile "you sure do think a lot" you say laying your head back down on his chest "you have no idea" Steve says.

[maeumi-jng]

Can i request princess treatment from enhypen ❤️😭

princess charm school

pairing: enhypen x gn!reader

synopsis: in which enhypen are enrolled and on the honour list at princess charm school.

warnings: established relationship, endearments, swearing, cringe cringe, fluff, but i'm so soft for all of them 😭, proofread-ish

library: enhypen bookshelf

author's note: i'm not sure when by the princess treatment kinda got mixed in with dating headcannons. but still! hope this was to your likingggg ♡︎ thank you so much for requesting!

heeseung

there's two sides of princess treatment: the emotional part of it and the royalty part of it. heeseung takes great pleasure in putting extra effort in the latter. he's the extra mile type of guy when it comes to princess treatment.

he takes the royalty part so seriously. like that's his job. what else is supposed to do?

heeseung takes you out shopping, more than happy to sit down to watch you try on clothes. he really gets into it, choosing what clothes he thinks you'll look good in.

if he even catching an inkling that you're having somewhat of a bad day, best believe when you return home, a trail of fresh rose petals lie from your front door and lead you to the bathroom, where you find heeseung lighting some of your favourite candles.

you'd raise a brow, "hee, what's going the occasion? the petals, these candles... is that our record player... in the bathroom?"

heeseung would simply smile. "i thought you sounded sad over the phone so i ran you a bath," he said nonchalantly, shrugging as if this required no effort.

you'd also be leaving a dinner party of a close friend's. both of you and heeseung decided to call it a night but got mildly distracted when the thought of late night ice cream.

the closest ice cream store? a twenty minute walk away. an uber would've made it a mere seven minutes.

but you and heeseung were convinced it was more romantic to walk. so were you going to walk those twelve thousand seconds just to fulfil your craving? yes.

about ten minutes into your journey, you found your feet beginning to ache. you couldn't pinpoint the origin of the pain, possibly your new shoes that you haven't broken in yet or the fact you and heeseung danced for way too long.

heeseung, who was walking next to you, hand intertwined with yours, raised a brow when he felt your head slump on his shoulder. "what's wrong, baby?" he asked, mild concern spreading throughout his voice as you both came to a stop in the empty street.

"my feet hurt, hee. i think i'm getting a blister on the back of my ankle," you sighed, rotating your foot, wincing at the brush of your shoe against your pained skin.

heeseung pursed his lips, barely thinking for a second when he suddenly lifted you up.

a yelp left your lips. "heeseung! what are you doing?!" you shrieked, feet waddling in the air while his arms were tucked under your waist and knees.

"i'm carrying you to the ice cream store. can't have your feet hurting any more, can we?" he said with the most casual tone you had ever heard in your life.

"heeseung," you hissed out, cheeks burning in the dark. "let me down! this is so embarrassing!" you whispered, hitting his back lightly.

heeseung shook his head. "there's no one even here. now stop worrying and relax," he scolded you, laughing lightly at your reaction.

you quickly realised that any attempt of yours to get out of this was futile. sighing, you tried to calm your body despite your keen awareness of heeseung's warm arms holding you tightly to him.

you hung your hands around his neck, staring at his face quietly. heeseung turned slightly, taking a glance at you. "what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

you smiled, shaking your head in dismissal. you leaned forward, pressing a long kiss to his cheek. "thank you," you said with every ounce of earnestly you had, "i love you, hee."

heeseung smiled in response, thankful that night was so dark, disguising his flustered cheeks. "i love you, sweetheart. more than you'll ever know."

jongseong

the epitome of princess treatment. it's not just secondhand nature to jay. it's innate. genetic, if you will.

before you even began dating, jay was always giving you princess treatment. he's so attentive to everything you do.

before you realised he liked you, you were always catching jay's eyes as he gripped onto to every word that fell from those pretty lips of yours as if your word was his command (it most definitely is). whenever he was making a decision, jay would ask for your opinion, texting you with every passing second if he couldn't be in front of you.

princess treatment, when possible, should be healthy and balanced. but jay can't follow through. not when you're right in front of him.

there's a lot of talk about jay and his black card. not to make it a personality trait, for he is so much more, but when it comes to you, no expense is too big or too little. reminiscent of svt's woozi giving his black card for vernon to buy bubbles, jay would give be taking it out as if he was doing god's work by doing so.

oh you need your nails done? jay's got it.

hair appointment? done.

also, jay thinks 50/50 can go to hell. he is paying for the both of you and that's final. he won't even let you utter a syllable, telling the waiter in advance to take his card.

domestically, jay likes to spoil you by cooking for you, especially if you can't cook to save your life, doing the laundry, making you breakfast before you wake up, taking your chair out for you to sit even if it's just the two of you.

"jay... let me help you," you whined, sitting at the kitchen table and watching him prepare your picnic basket for your outing this morning.

jay hummed, finishing putting his freshly made fruit salad in a container. "you're already helping me, sweetheart. just looking at you makes me feel happy and at ease."

you slumped, pouting as you rested your cheeks on your arm. jay smiled in amusement, his heart doing small little flips. he leaned in across the table, placing a quick peck on your nose. "fine," he relented. "you can help me by taste testing the fruit salad."

you blinked blankly at him before breaking out into a small laugh. "i don't know, jay... that's a really difficult job you got there," you teased.

jay narrowed his eyes at your sarcasm. "keep it up and see how long you have this job for, babe."

you raised your hands in your defence. "whoa... take a chill pill, mister. you're in luck. i happen to be a certified taste tester."

"really?" jay humoured, hands resting on the table as he looked at you with raised brows. "certified by who?"

"the best, most handsome, sweetest, loveliest boyfriend ever?" you suggested, batting your eyelashes coyly.

jay couldn't even suppress the wide smile from breaking out. he nodded in amusement, reaching out to grab your hand. "okay, okay. come on, my certified lover. i do actually need you to taste it."

jaeyun

everything this man does revolves around you.

it's a historical fact.

look it up.

jake is pretty sure he lives for you... that he breathes for you. entirely wrapped up in the belief that you were made for him and he was made for you. in short, a simpleton if you've ever seen one.

his favourite things consist of helping you put your shoes on, especially when you're getting ready for something formal, kissing you at any given time, and constantly holding your hand.

you'll be going to put your shoes on and jake will quickly shove your hands away. "no let me." and as he does them, he'll leave small kisses on your knees or the side of your leg, just as a reminder that he loves you... like a lot.

you could also be in middle of talking to him and jake will suddenly interrupt you by kissing you. when you look at him with furrowed brows and flustered cheeks, he goes: "just because."

you're trying to kill someone... just because?????

jake is also a flower man. it's flower galore up in here. there doesn't need to be an occasion. he just likes giving you flowers. another just because.

you just closed the door to your car and you turned to jake to ask a question, but instead you're greeted with a bouquet of colours. "jake, what the– when did you get those?"

"before we met today. do you like them, baby? they're honeysuckles!"

the eager boba eyes peering at you while he pushes the bouquet towards make you fold an instant. you give him a warm smile, taking them from his hands. "i love them, jake. thank you so much."

later that day you go home and read what honeysuckles symbolise: everlasting love, true happiness, and sweetness and affection.

you smiled so hard that night that your cheeks were hurting the next day.

jake is also very dramatic. if you didn't know before, you know now.

you were both out for a morning walk after being cooped up in the house due to the harsh rain. it was a lot sunnier and brighter this morning, even if the paths were still stained with the rain, it screamed for a walk.

you and jake were both chitchatting, admiring the nature as you walked, when suddenly he brought out his hand over your waist, stopping you. "WAIT!"

now you're standing here baffled, eyes wide with confusion and slight fear because why the fuck is this man screaming so early in the morning? "holy shit– what? what happened, jake?"

jake's brown eyes averted to the path and then you. "there's a puddle."

hold up.

what?

you blinked blankly at him. an awkward laugh slipped past your mouth. "i– okay? and?"

jake sucked in a sharp breath, retracting his hand from your waist and instead holding it out to you. "give me your hand."

you raised a brow, slowly giving him your hand without thinking too much. you watched as jake leaped over the puddle and waited for you to carefully walk over it with your hand in his.

you gave him an incredulous look which only made him give you an impatient one in return. sighing, you stretched out your leg, just avoiding the puddle as jake pulled you into him.

jake wrapped his arms around your waist. "see? you're all dry. isn't that better?" he whispered, briefly kissing your forehead.

you found it difficult to bite back the smile eating away at you. you shook your head, laughing quietly to yourself. "you're a cheeseball, jake. you know that?"

jake grinned at your words, hands tightening around you. "your cheeseball, you mean."

you blinked, peering at him through your lashes. "yes," you agreed. "my cheeseball."

am i... delusional? 🤭🤧 (don't answer that!)

sunghoon

sunghoon's princess treatment is for you and only you. only you see it and only you get to experience it.

whenever, it's just the two of you, the side of sunghoon you see is almost unbelievable. alone in an elevator with all the space in the world, yet sunghoon can only cling to you, hand constantly around your waist. or when you're in the car, his hand rests on your leg because it's only secondhand nature.

sunghoon, however, does have his public moments. he always has an umbrella just in case and it's big enough for the both of you. but every time it suddenly starts to pour down and sunghoon opens the umbrella, he only puts it on you. he doesn't really care if he's soaked in rain one day and sick the next, as long as you're fine and dry, he's a happy guy.

to be honest, sunghoon isn't that talkative of a guy. but for you, if you can't say something or order something, he'll hundred percent do it for you. or if someone says something bad or upsetting, trust, sunghoon is going to be on their ass about it: ice cold glare and a whole lot of things to suddenly say.

sunghoon's favourite form of princess treatment, however, is helping you get ready in the morning. like honestly, you don't need it. you seem to have everything sorted. but sunghoon can't help it. the urge to help you is a need not a want.

you and sunghoon would both wake up, particularly unbothered by everything. after ten minutes of you staring at each other and smiling like idiots, you decide to get out and take a shower. by the time you finish, sunghoon is still lounging in bed, only coming out of the sheets when you were standing in front of your mirror in your selected clothes for the day.

as he does every morning, sunghoon would take off the towel wrapped around your head and put it aside. he'd comb your hair (under the insistence that it was better than brushing your hair), gently taking out any knots before helping you blow dry it.

amongst all of this, you're just smiling at sunghoon through the mirror. he doesn't really see you since he's so focused on helping you get ready.

to be honest, even though he has a younger sister, he didn't really learn anything from her when it came to hairstyles. but this cutie decided to spend his time trying out different hairstyles. he tried them on his sister and you, whenever he had the time. so every morning, sunghoon would ask you what you wanted and he'd be more than happy to serve.

if you thought it ended here... well, you're wrong.

makeup... whether you wanted to go all out or just put some lipbalm on, sunghoon would put himself in harms way just to do it. he loves everything about it. the intimacy, the proximity, your reaction, how pretty you look afterwards... everything.

needless to say, you love being sunghoon's princess.

seonwoo

listen... everyone and their mother knows about seonwoo's princess aka you.

why?

his personal instagram account was practically a fanstagram of you. seonwoo spent a lot of time, posting about you, you and him, and then you again.

for most of your time together, you expect it to be documented in some shape or form. seonwoo liked to take mirror selfies with you or post pictures of you on your dates together. even if your face wasn't in it, he liked to post it.

seonwoo's favourite, however? candid photos.

he can't verbally express how much he loves them. so seonwoo just posts a bunch instead. he's just in awe. because how do you look so pretty all the time? why do you make him suffer in such a sweetly evil way?

seonwoo also throws all of his skepticism and doubt away when he's with you. he will do anything for you and try anything. he always always lets you pick what to watch. he doesn't care what it is as long as you're happy.

another flower guy. but instead, he'd rather border on getting yelled at by a stranger for picking flowers from their garden rather than just going to a florist. seonwoo, by that point, decided to just pick up gardening as a hobby. it's not the cleanest hobby in the world which freaks him out time to time but it's totally worth it in the end when he sees your smile.

seonwoo also never ever ever lets you carry your own bag. he'll carry your for you or he'll put your stuff in his own bag. he doesn't want you to strain yourself, yk? 🤗

another guy who's a tad bit dramatic. if seonwoo's giving you princess treatment, he is going to be so fucking adamant about it.

for example, you're in the car. you and seonwoo both decided you wanted to go grocery shopping because you're cupboards and fridge were looking a bit empty.

upon arriving to the supermarket, you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to open the door but seonwoo literally slapped your hand away from the handle.

"what the heck, seonwoo?!" you turned to him with the most baffled expression because seonwoo isn't there anymore. instead, he's fucking running outside of the car to get to your side and open the door for you.

seonwoo would beam down at you as he opened the door, lowkey out of breath from sprinting from one side to another.

you blinked blankly, a small smile creeping onto your face. "you're so whipped," you teased, moving your legs to get out the car,

seonwoo rolled his eyes, grabbing your hand as you got out of the car. closing the car door, he moved his hand, intertwining your fingers together. "you're the one smiling like a kid who woke up on their birthday," he retorted, his own smile teetering on his face.

you pressed your lips together while seonwoo gave you a pointed look, knowing he had caught you. you sighed, resting your head on his shoulder as you walked into the store. "we aren't getting mint chocolate ice cream," you casually said.

seonwoo gaped at you, eyes wide. "okay, okay. i take it back. i'm sorry. you were right," he conceded, pressing a kiss to your cheek. he whispered, "i am so whipped."

jungwon

another epitome of princess treatment guy.

he just likes you so much... how can he not treat you so well?

if jungwon catches you staring at something you like for a while when you both shop together, he'll probably buy it for you when he uses going to the bathroom as an excuse to do so. he enjoys your reaction when you come home from the trip and finish washing up to find the item resting on your bed or dresser.

"what the? wonnie," you gasped, turning your head to the culprit. "how did you know?" you jutted your lip, eyes turning soft at the grinning boy.

jungwon walked towards you, pressing a kiss on your shoulder while his hands naturally found their place around your waist. his chin nestled into your collarbone while he spoke. "you looked like you wanted it, that all."

you were practically speechless. "b-but, that didn't you mean you had to buy it," you said, in complete awe of the kindness of jungwon's heart. you sighed, turning your head to bring him into a long kiss.

unknown fact but acts of service should be jungwon's middle name. if you had any trouble at all with anything, he'd do it for you. freshly done nails and dishes? he had them. the lid on your jam jar sealed a bit too tight?

got a sweet tooth at ten in the evening? jungwon would either take you out or do what he thinks is the best idea: bake you a fresh batch of whatever you wanted. you were the only reason he stocked up on so many ingredients. from brownies and cupcakes to ugly looking macaroons and meringues... anything for you.

another thing jungwon often did was the whole shoe thing. but with a slight change and an addition to go along with it.

you had both just attended a family wedding. you were all having a great time, dancing, chatting, taking pictures, devouring the wedding menu... but all this socialisation took energy and you're social battery was on the brink of dying out.

you were seated at your allocated table when jungwon brought you a glass of water and sat next to you. you gave him a small smile, taking a big gulp of the water.

jungwon raised a brow after eyeing your shoes next to your chair. "sucky shoes?" he guessed.

you sighed, resting your chin in your hand. "sucky shoes," you confirmed by repeating his words. "they're a pain my ass," you mumbled.

jungwon frowned at your misery, soon grabbing your feet to rest them on his lap, capturing your attention. "jungwon, what are you doing?"

"just relax," jungwon whispered softly, bringing his fingers to slowly rub soothing circles into your ankles and feet. you couldn't believe it. he was massaging your feet for you.

you pouted, eyes soft once again. "wonnie," you murmured, unable to follow up with anymore words.

he only smiled gently, continuing. "does that feel better?" jungwon queried after a couple of minutes. you wordlessly nodded, sporting the most thankful expression you could muster for your voice had failed you.

you mended your brows together when you watched jungwon take off his shoes and begin to put them onto your feet. "jungwon-ah, yah, what are you doing? we have to go back out soon." you asked, feeling panicked all of a sudden.

"it's okay," jungwon reassured, "you need shoes that don't suck. besides, i still have socks," he said, wiggling his foot.

your mouth fell open. how on earth did you get so lucky? "jungwon," you called out, making him hum in response as he just finished doing the last shoes. "marry me?" you asked softly.

jungwon blinked, a wide smile sprawling on to his face, dimples popping right out at you. "of course," he responded, "but give me some time and i'll ask you instead, hmm?"

you grinned at his words, nodding. for the rest of the evening, jungwon stood next to you, in his socks, more than happy. as the event came to a close and everyone began to leave, you'd walk out, still in his shoes, as jungwon tangled his fingers with yours, carrying your shoes in the other hand.

👑 -> jungwon 🤧

riki

riki is the definition of princess treatment in combination with young love. you don't know it because he's kind of embarrassed to tell you, but he's always keeping an eye out for you.

riki's already got the basic things covered: opening the door for you at all times, listening to your words with the greatest attention known to mankind, more than willing to hold all the clothes you gathered in the store, covering all the edges of objects so you didn't hurt yourself.

but then there were the moments that made your heart flutter to the point where the both of you had to consider whether you were malfunctioning or not.

you were both walking around town when he'd suddenly stop you. "what's wrong?" you asked.

but riki said nothing. instead he just bent down to the floor after moving in front of you and began tying your shoelaces.

"riki-ah," you chuckled, "you could've told me."

riki shrugged, tying a tight knot. "you should make tight knots," he told you.

"otherwise i'll trip, i know," you teased.

riki shook his head, standing back up, making you furrow your brows. "i can't have you falling for anyone else."

it was so stupid how riki could say the most heart-stopping things so casually. it was infuriating yet it made you flush with embarrassment instead.

but that moment had set in stone that riki always did your laces up when they came undone. something about making sure you were only falling for him.

another day, you were both eating at a cafe. you had ordered some new things to try and you were quite excited, stuffing your face with food. you were about to get riki to try yours when you spotted the frown on his face.

you swallowed your bite, turning your head to him. "riki? what happened? do you not like your food?"

riki remained quite, hand stretching out to pull your chair closer to him. your eyes widened at the sudden proximity. a smile settled down on his face. "that's better."

no because what the fuck? how on earth were you supposed survive this?

and then there was the time it was raining. like pure good rain. not a shower or some light little pelts. rain.

riki isn't as prepared as the others. an umbrella? newsflash! no one is carrying an umbrella all the time. but what riki did have was his cherished leather jacket.

so as the rain pelted down, drenching the both of you and the smell of the earthy hugged you dearly, riki took off of his jacket, raising his arms to cover your head as you both ran together, trying to reach some shade.

"riki!" you squealed, feeling the cold rain stick to your skin. "put it on yourself! you're going to get sick," you scolded.

riki laughed softly, running a hand through his wet hair. he peered down at you, holding the most gentle look in his brown eyes. "it's okay. i just don't want you to get sick."

you both slowed down your run to find any inch of shade. you stared at him while he continued to hold his jacket over your head.

"what?" riki queried, chest rising up and down as the rain continued to trickle down his body.

you stretched out your hands, hanging them around his neck as you pulled him closer to you. you reached up on the tips of your toe and pressed a kiss to his cheek, feeling the coldness of your skin melt against his warmth.

you pulled away while riki looked at you with an unreadable expression. you laughed gently. "nothing," you shrugged, hand reaching out to grab his hand. "now come on! we need to get out of the rain!"

riki blinked blankly, watching you take him with you. he thought his heart stopped.

riki thinks knows that he's entirely in love with you.

© maeumi-jng | do not copy, post (repost is fine!) or translate anywhere else! thank you ♡︎ requests here!

[kunikuyu]

"A reward for someone so good." Hashira Series!

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Gyomei Himejima x Male! Reader

Warnings: Minors DNI, NSFW, read as afab reader, size kink, "calm" sex, faint, belly bulge, Himejima has feelings for the reader.

Summary: Pillar training has begun, much to your delight. Of course, as a hard-working and strong person, you can handle any challenge. Even if it's fighting a hashira. And in a way, they all see some value in you, and want to reward you for it.

You decided you would trust Sanemi (in which case, you were too tired to try and cut the ropes). You slept on the floor of that room and were woken up by someone mumbling while untying you.

"Ah, you finally decided to wake up? Lazy bastard." And you just shrug. If Sanemi wasn't going to untie you, you'd probably stay there until you gathered the strength to do it yourself.

Shinazugawa finally lets you go, but you can't walk at the moment. "..." He stares at you, hoping you'll get up soon. "You haven't realized my situation yet, have you?"

"I won't carry you in my arms, don't you dare ask."

....

You didn't even have to ask. He picked you up willingly and covered you with his haori (which only covered the bottom part due to your height). Fortunately, no one saw you in this situation.

Sanemi carries you to the room and offers you new clothes, next to a hot bath since you were covered in blood. He seems to want to apologize for being too rough last night, but he's too proud for that.

This is how he shows that in a way, he cares for you. Genya came to see you after your shower, and he seemed very curious to know why you disappeared last night and are now in Sanemi's room. You just laugh softly.

After some small talk and some things about the upcoming training and about Gyomei, Genya and Sanemi accompany you to the gate. You were already more recovered, and could probably get to Gyomei's training area with ease.

Genya says goodbye to you with a handshake and quickly leaves. Sanemi would finally apologize to you. "... Sorry for yesterday." "It's okay. Just make sure you don't leave me tied up next time." And so, you walked away while following your crow.

"Wait... WILL THERE BE A NEXT TIME?!" The older Shinazugawa screams and tries to reach you, but trips on a rock and ends up falling.

......

You finally arrived at Gyomei's training area. The few people who made it past Sanemi's training looked washed up. Himejima's training was very heavy, just like Genya said.

A hand subtly touches your shoulder, and you immediately recognize who the person is. "Himejima-san!" You smile, and the man almost twice your height smiles back. You weren't exactly short, but Gyomei was almost a tree, he was so tall.

"[Name], long time I haven't seen you. Namu." He says, voice deep as he rubs his hands together. The bulging veins on his arms made you blush softly. Maybe you have a thing for muscular men. And speaking of which, you've done a lot of missions together. It was almost a trio. Genya, Gyomei and you (since Tomioka stayed away from you in the past).

For a few seconds you wondered how Himejima knew it was you. But he's like a bear, his senses are extremely keen. "So, what's the training like?" Even though you already had an idea, you still wanted to be sure of what you were going to face.

"Your training is unique, please follow me. Namu."

.....

You obey the Hashira, and soon, you arrive at his mansion. It was very similar to all the others, except it felt more warm and comfortable. "Please sit."

Gyomei takes you to the farthest corner of the house, and sits in front of you. The difference in size was brutal even when he was sitting down.

He holds your hand gently and sighs, preparing to say something unusual. "Sr. [Name], I would like you to have sex with me. Not only that, but I propose that this be your test of strength." He was so straight to the point that it scared you.

Okay, you knew that was his personality. But it was on a much higher level. Seeing that you didn't answer him, but didn't move away either, he continues what he was saying. "On every mission we've done, I've felt something for you that I never thought I'd feel for a man. You are kind and pure, despite your personality being somewhat eccentric."

You had no words for it. You were normally the one praising people, and now you were being praised in such a kind way. You just squeeze Himejima's hand, as your body moves closer to him.

"...I accept this training, Himejima-san."

.....

He takes off all of his necklaces, and starts to unbuckle his belt. Before he even took off his pants, you noticed that his cock was already hard as a rock.

And when he took off his pants, you almost fainted. Seriously, your blood pressure has really dropped. That thing was huge, probably 44 centimeters. That wasn't even humanly possible! Now you're not sure if you agree with this training.

Himejima senses your concern, and quickly reassures you. "If you can't take it, I won't force you." And you just make a mumble of "ok"

He takes off his pants, and pats his hand gently on his thigh, to signal that he was ready. You quickly take off your pants too, and crawl until you are face to face with that monstrosity. It was quite heavy, and his balls felt swollen, as if it were waiting to release their load.

You try to sit on Gyomei's lap, placing the man's cock in your pussy. But it was almost an impossible task, it was too big. Only the head had entered and you already felt full. He throws his head back and lets out some low, hoarse moans, already feeling pleasure just from having contact with your body.

Little by little, you get used to the new sensation, and Gyomei's cock starts to slide inside you. Soon, (almost) everything was inside you, and you were already sitting on Gyomei's lap. He let out much louder, but still discreet, moans as he hugged your body. Your belly was swollen, and you could be sure that that bulge was the perfect shape of Gyomei's cock.

You massage that bulge and squeeze gently, making you and the other man moan again. He didn't seem to care if you weren't moving, he just wanted contact with you.

But you wanted to move, you wanted to go after your own pleasure. And so, you began to lightly move back and forth, riding the taller man. He starts to sigh deeply and moan some meaningless words, while you bite your mouth to keep from screaming. Every slightest movement you make makes his member hit your sweet spot.

Until he decides to help you with your movements. His hands held your ass, and without any difficulty, he made you move up and down gently on his slippery cock. That was as far as you could go without moaning loudly.

You just put your hand over your mouth to keep from screaming while he fucks you. "H-Himejima...Ah!~" It's all you can say, because you were almost screaming.

And this goes on for a few minutes. He makes calm movements with his body as he reaches the deepest point he could reach. You were already close to passing out, it was too much to handle and every time he hit your sweet spot, you could feel your blood pressure dropping.

"... [Name]-san... I feel like I'm about to..." You widen your eyes, already understanding what he meant. And it only took a few seconds for him to release his load inside you. As soon as his cum hit your deepest point in a warm jet, you passed out.

There was a lot of cum, it was even leaking and causing a bigger swelling in your belly. He notices your body going limp, and pulls you off his dick. He wasn't that experienced in having sex, but he felt like he shouldn't have such extreme concern, just take care of you and your body while you were passed out.

And so he does, giving you a bath, putting on clean clothes and lying next to you in bed, hugging you in a bear hug.

He was really happy with everything that happened. He really likes you, and sex only confirmed his feelings.

Bonus lines!

"I really love you, [Name]-san. We should get married, I want you to be my husband."

"... I see..."

[little-diable]

A Broken Down Bike and Racing Hearts – Benny Cross (smut)

Well, I watched The Bikeriders yesterday, and I did warn y'all. I simply have to write for Benny (maybe also Johnny?). I haven't read any Benny fics yet, so this may have been done before. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Benny's bike breaks down right in front of the reader's house, who invites him in to stay the night while a thunderstorm rages outside.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, choking, slight possessiveness

Pairings: Benny Cross x fem!reader (2k words)

Contains no spoilers!

Her eyes followed his every movement. It had only been a handful of minutes since he had broken down with his bike right in front of her house. No words had been shared between them so far. While he kept fumbling with different parts of his bike, she kept smoking her cigarettes, studying the handsome man with piercing eyes. 

She didn’t look away once, not as he seemed to give up on fixing his bike with a sigh, not as he placed a cigarette between his plush lips with his gaze set on (y/n). Something about him drew her in. Perhaps it was the cut that told a story of brotherhood, of family united by something thicker than blood. Perhaps it was simply the handsome face she wouldn’t mind seeing every now and then. Whatever it was, it urged her on to finally part her lips. 

“I doubt you’ll manage to leave this place tonight.” Her gaze flickered up to the dark sky, knowing that it’d start raining any minute now. The guy wordlessly followed her gaze while blowing out a thick blue cloud of smoke matching hers.

“Is that an invitation to stay at your place for the night?” His voice was raspy, perfectly matching the growing smirk finding its way to his lips. 

“Well, if there’s one thing I know about you bikers, it is that it’s better to have you as a friend than as an enemy. And who knows, maybe I’ll need your help one of these days too.” (Y/n) rose to her feet. She allowed herself to study him for a second or two before turning on her heel to make it back inside her house. The second she crossed the threshold, it began raining as if God himself were urging the stranger to follow her, knowing that this very match would endure all following obstacles. 

The sound of his boots meeting her wooden stairs left her smiling, forcing her to turn back to him as he softly closed the door behind himself. He stepped out of his boots, ran a hand through his golden locks, and let his eyes wander. 

“I’m (y/n).” She softly spoke her name while her feet carried her towards her open kitchen, reaching for two bottles of beer.

“Benny.” It was a simple reply–just his name–nothing more, and yet she didn’t need anything else. She reached the bottle out for him to take, trying to bite down the sharp intake of air wanting to leave her as their hands met. He was a stranger, nothing more than a pretty face, but the excitement his closeness pushed through her, left (y/n) wondering how this night may play out, knowing that she wasn’t one to shy away from an opportunity like this. 

“Are you hungry, Benny? You must have been on the road for a while.” Benny only nodded his head as he took another sip of his beer. He was unusually cautious for a biker–at least in comparison to those she had met before–but (y/n) didn’t mind his calm demeanour, grateful for the comforting feeling he emanated. 

“Do you live here alone?” He plopped down on her kitchen island, letting his feet dangle in the air while he watched her cook. The moment had something homey to it, a domestic atmosphere she hadn’t ever experienced before, torn from a broken home at an early age. Sometimes she had imagined a life like this, with a husband close to love her, to appreciate her like she had always craved. 

“I do. It’s just me around here.” The hum leaving him forced her gaze towards him, unable to bite down her smile at the way he studied her. He seemed to be just as fascinated with her, drawn to the woman who had invited a stranger into her house solemnly because she knew saying no to a biker could end badly for her. But Benny was different–that much she knew already. 

“Must get lonely.” Her tongue kissed her teeth at his comment, trying to hold back from dumping the confusing emotions she had always felt on him. It did get lonely from time to time. But there was no escaping this situation, at least not for now, and she had made her peace with it, grateful that she could live however she wanted to. 

“You get used to it. What about you? Who are you running away from?” The silence that followed her question grew thicker with every passing moment. She was patient, waiting for him to find the strength to speak while she finished cooking their food. The past years had taught her enough about trauma, stress, and fear to understand how much people struggled with whatever it was they were running away from. 

Whatever it was that Benny couldn’t speak of, she wouldn’t force him to let her in, not when she could offer him a safe space for a few hours at least. 

……

“I could take you on a ride as soon as it’s fixed.” Benny was sitting on her couch, feet placed on the small table, as he was nursing another beer. She was sitting close, feet placed in his lap, breaking through the layers that had turned them from strangers to somewhat friends already. 

It had taken Benny almost an hour to let her in, to tell her of the struggles he had faced, the people he was running from, and the fear he couldn’t shake, no matter how fast he was driving, close to bidding this life goodbye. She had listened to his every thought, keeping quiet while he rambled on, finding safety in her closeness. 

“Careful, Benny, you’d have to keep me around for that.” The grin she shot him left him laughing, head rolling back to give the raspy sound enough room to break through him. It was a beautiful sight, leaving her buzzing with heat flushing through her that begged her to move closer. 

Something was lingering between the two, binding them closer together while both waited for the right moment to cross the last line between them.

“Would that be so bad?” It was close to a whisper, rolling off his tongue while he turned his head back towards her. (Y/n) felt heat rise up her spine, whispering to her to give her darkest and deepest longings enough room as if she was drunk off her face, unable to hold back. Benny held a special kind of magic over her, an unfamiliar sensation she couldn’t pinpoint just yet. 

“I don’t think you’re one for keeping women around. And I don’t want to leave this place.” He shuffled around, placed his bottle down before leaning closer towards her. His bright eyes danced over her face while his ringed hand found her cheek, cupping it softly. Benny’s thumb ran over her parted lips, unable to hold back his groan as she sucked his digit into her mouth. 

And then everything happened all too quickly. One second he was staring down at her, and the next she was sitting on his lap, lips locked with his. It wasn’t a soft kiss; it was rough, urged on by their need to be touched, to feel some form of love they hadn’t experienced in months, perhaps even years. 

Trembling fingers worked on one another’s clothes, letting the fabrics drop on the ground while their mouths explored the places that hadn’t been touched in a while. Moans rumbled through them, filling her living room as the last piece of clothing found its way to the ground. 

(Y/n)’s heart was racing, pounding in her chest while Benny couldn’t help but marvel at her body; at every inch he was now fortunate enough to touch. His fingers felt cold against her heat as he pressed her back down on the couch, brushing through her folds to spread her arousal on her pulsing bundle. All while (y/n) tugged on his golden curls with her back arched off the couch and her toes curled in anticipation.

“You’re fucking beautiful, doll.” She barely picked up on his words, too far gone to focus on the praises Benny spoke. His fingers moved fast enough to make black dots appear in her vision, leaving her eyes to flutter while her orgasm crept closer and closer. He dipped his head down to suck marks into the soft skin of her chest, letting his teeth graze her skin to make her feel as if she was burning, set ablaze by his touch. 

“Benny,” she choked on his name. Her thighs were trembling, body aching for the relief he was about to push through her. She wanted to speak more words, wanted to tell him how good he was making her feel, but she didn’t manage to, interrupted by the loud moan clawing through her. 

She came with his name rolling off her tongue, spoken like a mantra she had learned by heart years ago. He kept moving his fingers, circling her pulsing bundle for a few more seconds before letting go. They held eye contact, staring at one another with growing smiles that were glued to their lips. The sound of thunder rang in their ears, followed by the heavily falling rain that rushed down her windows, adding even more intensity to the atmosphere lingering in the room. 

Benny didn’t speak a warning before he flipped her around, only to press her chest against the armrest of her couch. She heard him spit into his palm and heard the soft groan rumbling through him as he pumped his cock a few times before finally pushing into her from behind. Both groaned in unison at the way he pushed into her, spreading her walls around his twitching cock. 

“Feels so good, Benny, move, please.” He instantly gave in to her begging, pulling out of her only to push back in with more force. It didn’t take him long to find a comfortable rhythm, fast enough to leave her choking on gasps, slow enough to give the two enough time to savour every passing second. 

“You belong to me now, doll. I can’t let you go again.” (Y/n) didn’t properly understand what he meant by these words, too focused on the feeling of his hand finding her throat, pulling her into his chest. He tightened his grasp on her throat to hold on to her while he fucked them closer towards their high, knowing that they’d give in soon. 

“Tell me that you’re mine.” He murmured the words against the back of her neck, while he left yet another mark that wouldn’t fade for a while. She was trembling in his grasp, struggling to reply while he softly choked her, heightening her senses. “Speak, (y/n).”

“I’m yours, fuck, Benny, I’ll always be yours.” A satisfied hum left him at her words–a hum that gave her the final push to throw herself over the edge. She came again with a moan, with squeezed-together eyes and her teeth buried in her lower lip. Benny kept snapping his hips against her behind, chasing his own high with his moans vibrating on her skin. 

A deep “Fuck” left him as he came, pulling out of her just in time to paint her behind with his cum. Both were panting, holding onto the couch while they came down from their highs, unable to see through the hazy fog just yet. 

“I mean it, doll, we belong together now.” He pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder before he rose to his feet to disappear from her sight. Her mind was racing, her heart was pounding, but no matter how confused she was, deep down she knew that she wouldn’t want to let go of him, following Benny wherever he’d take her.

[tinylilacbun]

Rafe bringing toddler reader to see Santa and she’s so deathly afraid of Santa that she’s screaming crying and rafe has to stand behind the camera with her Lovie trying to get her to smile but when that doesn’t work he has to get in the photo with her and he’s so unhappy about it but she relaxes

Traumatic Picture

Pairing: brother!rafe cameron x toddler!sister!reader

Warnings: reader is scared of santa, rafe being grumpy

⋆꙳•❅*🎄*❆•꙳⋆

The Camerons are currently decorating the Christmas tree, well mostly Sarah, Wheezie, and you while the others are sitting on the couch, Ward and Rose drinking a glass of wine, and Rafe is occupied on his phone.

He only sits here because his father used the bond Rafe has with you and sent you to ask him to join you all, knowing he won't say no to you.

As he lifts his gaze from his phone he sees how you're standing on your tiptoes, holding the star in your hand as you probably try to set it on top, which is impossible given how short you are.

With a sigh, he pushes himself up and walks over to you, reaching down under your armpits to hold you up.

You squeal and stick the star on top of the tree, clapping your hands excitedly and giggling when the others clap as well.

Rafe sets you back down on the ground, ruffling your hair before he gets back onto the couch, hearing his father's conversation with Rose.

"The mall closes next week until new year and we haven't gotten the chance to take Y/n for a picture with Santa, and we're busy the next days too." Rose sighs, taking a sip of her wine.

"What about Sarah?" Ward suggests but Sarah instantly cuts in, shaking her head.

"Hell no, I went with her last year and it was horror, she wouldn't stop crying while taking that picture." Sarah recounts last year's experience.

It is tradition that every Cameron kid gets at least one picture with Santa but somehow you're so scared of him that Sarah is sure you got a trauma from last year, and the picture never happened so hopefully this time it's gonna end differently.

Suddenly everyone looks at Rafe and he groans, throwing his head back.

That's how he finds himself waiting in line for a picture with Santa at the bustling mall, people in holiday rush to get presents that are on sale.

He's holding you firmly on his hip, scowling at everyone who looks at you both too long for his liking, rubbing your back with his free hand as you cling onto him and watch how children get their pictures, sucking on your pacifier furiously.

"A'ight, listen kid, we're gonna get this done quick, yeah? Just a picture and we're on our way home again. There's no reason to be scared." He tries to soothe you, bouncing you a little.

You nod your head, still unsure if you want to do this, the big man in red still giving you an uneasy feeling as you hear his deep laugh from where you're waiting.

Now it is your turn and you tense up when Rafe moves you to sit on Santa's lap, taking your pacifier out of your mouth as he pats your head, taking a few steps back.

You look up at the man with big eyes while he smiles down at you, his hand hovering behind your back in case you fall down. "Hello there, little one."

The tears instantly well up the second he talks to you in a deep voice, crying out loud. Santa stays in his role, the person in the costume already used to younger children being fussy or scared.

"Princess, look who I have here." Rafe tries to get your attention, standing beside the woman with the camera and holding your lovey above it.

Instead of calming you down it makes you sob even harder, making grabby hands for your brother, wanting him to save you from this scary situation.

"R-Rafey." You hiccup and the woman frowns, leaning closer to Rafe.

"Y'know, many kids feel safer when family members stand beside them." She tells him sweetly.

Rafe sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, and reluctantly goes to stand at Santa's side behind you, leaning down to kiss your head to calm you down. "I'm here now, yea? Think you can be a big girl and smile just for a moment?"

You immediately calm down the moment you feel his presence behind you, letting him wipe the tears from your cheeks and nod.

Still sniffling you manage to form a smile, Rafe standing there with his usual grim expression, there's no way in hell he will smile with all those people present, it's already a surprise that he gets in the picture.

Luckily the process is quickly over and Rafe scoops you back up in his arms, handing you back your Lovey and pacifier as he makes his way to where he pays the printed out picture.

After he carries you outside and to his truck he takes a look at the picture. "If you tell Topper or Kelce about this I'll never let you sleep in my bed again." Oh yes he would.

You're too emotionally exhausted to give any response, nuzzling your face into his neck, feeling him kiss your head in reassurance.

"Proud of you, kid." He murmurs, opening the backdoor of his truck and buckling you in your car seat.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu @mylettterstoyou @sunf1ower16 @sweetstars-posts @rafecameronsloverrrrr @rafenroostersgirl

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer