#it is late and i am so sleep depraved

[theaceofarrows]

Batboy memes

[kitten4sannie]

imprint

pairing: werewolf! mingi x hunter! reader (fem)

genre: fluff, romance, smut

summary: you seemingly end up biting off more than you can chew upon discovering that the beast you hunted down for dinner is not what it seems.

w.c: 4.5k (more plot than smut this time hehe)

warnings: needy soft dom! mingi, sub! reader, pet names + praise only (shocking ik), pheromones mentioned, possessiveness, kissing, groping, tit play, spit + drool bc wolf mingi is a messy boy <3, mingi eats out reader like she’s his last meal 🫶🏼, SIZE KINK,,, feral unprotected sex, knotting <333, bulge kink/cum inflation, breeding kink ofc

a/n: IT’S FICTOBER TIME BITCH LETS FUCKING GOOO 🗣️ i am fashionably late ~ but i have come here to humbly offer you lovestruck werewolf mingi 🐺 <3 this is the softest my fictober stories will get btw lol it’s gonna be depravity from here on out ^^ oh and i’m sorry if this fic seems disjointed in any way,, i have a lot on my mind these days but regardless i hope you enjoy ~~

pssst: thank you so, so much for 5.5k followers !! it’s honestly insane to me and i still can’t fathom it hehe but the support and love means so very much to me <333

song rec: say - keshi

fictober 2024

You knew better than to hunt at night, but your rumbling stomach begged to differ. The evening air was frigid, sitting heavily inside your lungs each time you regrettably breathed it in, your hefty pelt only doing so much to keep you safe from the powerful winds that continually blew through the vast forest around you. You pulled the hood of your pelt down for a moment, the familiar sounds of wildlife finally making their way to your now exposed ears, though a freezing breeze made its mark on the soft flesh of your rosy cheeks and nose. You bit into your chapped bottom lip, surveying your surroundings for something you’d be able to feast on once you were back inside the safety of your cabin, thanking the gods for the decent visibility you had from the full moon above. 

The longer you sat there in silence, your body never growing acclimated to the fierce winter temperatures, you began to fall susceptible to exhaustion, the kind that had sunk its way deep into your bones in the same way your loneliness had for years at a time, feeling so heavy you retired from your once rigid stance and slumped down against the oak tree behind you. A few winks of sleep couldn’t possibly hurt you, not when you were quick to rise and fight if need be, your trusty bow and arrow at your side, as well as a pocket knife always sitting in its holster at your hip. You would be up as soon as you had the strength to open up your eyes and go on. 

You eventually woke up to the sound of howling. It had been so distinctly powerful that it was most likely produced by a large wolf, perhaps the leader of a pack. It was then that the culprit of the noise stalked past a few nearby trees and bushes, its dark shaggy coat leaving it virtually impossible to see due to the way it blended in so seamlessly. Leaving abnormally big paw prints behind in the ground below, it slowly paced back and forth in front of you, still quite a distance away from you, but getting closer and closer with each step it made, its large brown eyes piercing right through yours and seemingly gazing upon your soul, deeply fixated on your presence. 

It was much larger than any wolf you had seen in your entire lifetime, more akin to a dire wolf, which you had only seen in books, as it had been extinct for hundreds of years before, yet it was…so familiar. Still trapped inside the limbo of the dream you were initially having and your reality, you weren’t completely sure if what was happening before you was actually real. Not only that, but you had the sudden urge to be at the mercy of the wolf, even if it meant that you’d end up with your throat between the beautiful creature’s ragged teeth. However, you weren’t going to roll the dice with death, not when you’ve seen past loved ones get their lives snuffed out by a predator half the size of the one that was suddenly eagerly making its way towards you. 

Just before the wolf could reach you, your bow was drawn, the feathered arrow slicing into the cold skin of your cheek as it sailed through the air and lodged itself into the creature’s shoulder, your eyes shut tight all the while. What you expected to hear were the familiar pained whines of a canine but you instead were exposed to the lower pitched groans of a man, causing you to freeze, your eyes opening back up, now widened like marbles. The last thing you were expecting to see was another human, not when you lived alone in the woods for so long, and especially not a man that was stark naked and cowering in pain, with tears in his glistening eyes, looking at you as though you had betrayed him. 

You dropped your bow in favor of being at the strange man’s side, surveying his wound, realizing you were so exhausted and hungry, you must’ve simply imagined the wolf. “I-i thought…” you whispered, mostly to yourself, your voice trailing off, almost surprised to hear it after not using it for so long.

“Is that your way of saying hello?” The man hissed in pain when you touched the site of his wound, pushing your hand away from the broken shard of wood that was still lodged inside his bare shoulder. 

“I thought you were…going to kill me…” You reached down and tore off a portion of your thick linen blouse, about to wrap it around the man’s wound when you blocked you with his forearm. “I saw a wolf…” 

“Do I look like a wolf?” he pouted, reaching over to hold his shoulder in pain. 

“I’m sorry, I–…Please, let me help you. I need to apply pressure,” you reasoned, your face contorted with growing regret and concern. 

Studying your body language, the man cautiously let go of his arm and allowed you to wrap the torn linen around the wound site, biting into his lip all the while, letting out a few pained grunts. “Hurts…” 

“I know, I’m almost done, I promise…” you whispered softly near him, taking a second to share a look with the man, apologizing once again with your softened gaze and upturned brows. 

Once you were done, he leaned forward slightly into your personal space to study you, his eyes widened once again, this time with curiosity and admiration, already trusting you despite remnants of your arrow still left inside him. 

You bit into your lip, letting out a small breath, which turned into condensation as soon as it left your mouth. “I didn’t think anyone else lived in this forest…Where did you come from?”

Afraid that you would find his true identity to be far too much for you to handle, he thought it would be better to hide it. “Some would call me a nomad…I’m here, there, everywhere, really.” 

You nodded at his words, noticing once again that he lacked clothes when you were finally able to pull your attention away from his hypnotizing likeness, never having been drawn to someone like this before. It was then that you averted your eyes with diligence, your once cold cheeks growing warmer the more he stared at you. It took all your strength to return his gaze for just a moment. “Do nomads usually wander around the woods without proper clothing?” 

“Well–” The werewolf’s vision went dark for a second, as your pelt was thrown onto him. He pulled it down just enough to continue admiring the human he had been watching from a distance for so long, blowing a few strands of dark shaggy hair out of his sight. “I’m Mingi, by the way. What’s your name?” 

“Y-Y/N,” you answered sheepishly, not sure why the strange man was so keenly interested in you, especially after you just shot him with an arrow. 

“Y/N,” he repeated lovingly, enjoying the way it sounded, slowly sitting up until little white dots began to dance around his vision. “I don’t feel so good.” When Mingi fell forward into your arms, he couldn’t help but smile. You smelled so pretty, just like he had imagined. Warm like cinnamon, smoky like the fire you always kept burning inside your cabin, sweet like flowers in a garden he would roll around in when no one was around. You smelled like home. 

-

It took most of your strength helping the injured man back to your cabin, immediately laying him down in your bed and pulling your warm blankets up over him. To beat the freezing temperature inside your cabin, you quickly tossed a few pieces of wood in the fireplace and lit it up. You stayed crouched near the controlled flames for a little while to make sure the fire stayed alive, until your company let out a soft groan of pain. Now at his side, you pulled the pelt from his shoulders and frowned at the extent of the damage you caused, tears pricking at your eyes. “You’re still bleeding, Mingi…I’m so sorry…I need to stitch you up.”

Just as you stood up, Mingi reached up to hold onto the corner of your torn blouse, blinking hazily up at you, a few beads of sweat cascading along his straining neck. “Please, don’t worry about me, love. You’re the one who needs rest.” 

“Nonsense.” You shook your head, pulling away to find your sewing kit, your cheeks hot to the touch. Once you found it inside one of your drawers, along with a sleep shirt that had belonged to a previous loved one, you returned to Mingi’s side. “Now, stay still, okay?” 

“I’ll do whatever you need from me.” Mingi slowly sat up and rested his back against the headboard, watching with interest as you expertly sewed his wound closed, quite fond of the way you took care of him, and of how close you were to him, your hand resting on his chest for stability as you worked. Before you could pull your hand away from his body, he placed his over yours, unintentionally allowing you to feel his rapid heartbeat. “Thank you for this. Anyone else would’ve left me for the wolves.”

Biting into your lip, you couldn’t help but take into account the way his hand completely enveloped yours, truly forgetting just how important physical touch and connection with others was until this very moment, now that his warm skin was pressing into yours. “I-it’s nothing, really…”

“No, it’s not just nothing,” Mingi pouted, slowly bringing your hand up against his cheek to gently nuzzle into it. He couldn’t believe he had gotten this close to you, the special human he had been head over paws for ever since he had seen you for the first time. “It’s everything. You saved me.” 

It was almost as if this stranger had escaped one of the novels you read over and over, seeming too good to be true. “It was the least I could do after I hurt you…” 

It was when Mingi began to look at you for too long, with that unwavering longing in his eyes, that you cleared your throat and stood up, announcing, “I think I’ll make us some nice, warm soup. How does that sound?” 

It took everything in Mingi not to let out a few celebratory howls, instead nodding his head eagerly, his shaggy brown hair bouncing. “I’ve always wanted to try your food. I can smell it from outside sometimes and it always makes my stomach rumble.” 

You began to expertly chop up vegetables, stopping mid slice when you digested Mingi’s interesting choice of words. “So you know of me?” 

“I-i do,” he nodded shyly, despite your back being turned away from him.

“Have you been watching me, Mingi?” you asked after a few more minutes of silence, your knife now slicing into the last few potatoes you had pulled from your garden before winter began. 

“….Admiring you,” he gently corrected, knowing his big fluffy ears would be splayed out in embarrassment if they were there. 

Just as you began to pour the cut up vegetables into the pot of boiling broth, you blushed and jolted suddenly from the implications of the handsome stranger’s words. Your elbow knocked into the side of your cleaver, causing it to slip off the edge of the wood counter. Before you could blink, Mingi had already caught the handle of the cleaver, slowly standing up by your side, officially displaying the sheer size difference between the two of you. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you, love…” Mingi set the cleaver back down onto the counter, reaching over to touch your hand with a gentleness you hadn’t experienced before. 

The speed and quickness of Mingi’s reaction was incomprehensible; you were still reeling from it. Now he stood beside you, his size and stature more akin to a beast in human form than a simple man. Not only that, but the hand that was overlapping yours felt hot to the touch, like Mingi had a furnace burning away inside of him. You had heard stories of shapeshifters that lived in dense forests much like the one you called home. They had been around for centuries, living amongst themselves, never interacting with humans, able to take the form of beasts at will. You glanced out your window, peering up at the bright orb looming over you. It was a full moon, after all — but did myths like that really exist in the real world? 

“Mingi…are you…?” Your words began to die inside your mouth as soon as the puzzle pieces began to fall into place inside your mind. You couldn’t deny the connection you felt with Mingi, knowing that your total isolation played a part in your desire to let him in. It clouded your mind. You were growing so tired, you almost didn’t seem to mind if he wasn’t strictly human. 

Mingi smiled softly down at you, one of his canine teeth poking out past his plump lips, leaning himself down a bit to shorten the distance between you. He waited eagerly for you to finish your question, tilting his head to the side, having to blow his hair out of the way. 

“Are you hungry?” you finally asked, lowering the flame on the stove so that the soup could settle now that it was ready to serve. 

Mingi’s lips formed a silent ‘o’, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. He thought you might’ve been on the same page about your mutual attraction, but he was beginning to suspect that his obsession with you was one sided. It’s not like you had imprinted on him; it was the other way around. Silly wolf. 

Before Mingi could cry about it, he tasted something so delicious, he couldn’t help but let out an enthusiastic ‘mmm!’. You had slipped a soup spoon into his open mouth, allowing him to try the first homemade meal he’s ever had in his life, one that you had made for the both of you to share together within the sanctity of your cabin, away from the bitter isolation of the forest. He was a silly wolf, after all, because this, this was love. 

“Good?” you gauged softly, your eyebrows upturned with sheepish anticipation. 

“Good! Ahhh~” Mingi licked his lips and opened up again, savoring the warm, comforting feeling inside his stomach once you fed him another bite. “I’ve never had something this delicious before.” 

“Oh, stop,” you blushed, pouring some soup into a bowl and handing it to Mingi, shocked to see him bring it up to his mouth and gulp it down. “Oh, you weren’t lying…were you?” 

Mingi’s brown eyes were round, shiny like marbles, filled with unwavering sincerity. “Everything tastes better when you’re with the one you love…” 

You almost choked on your own soup, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. “D-did I hear that right…?” 

Mingi was a romantic at heart. He couldn’t help it, especially when the moon was so big and bright, glowing with everlasting light. She was reminding him to be brave. “Y/N, do you believe in love at first sight?” 

Your heart thumped away inside your chest, a steady reminder that you were alive, and not alone for the first time in a long time. “I think I might…Is that crazy?” 

Mingi brought his hand up to his face to hide the way it scrunched up with pure joy, his cheeks rosy and full of warmth. “If it is, then I must be too.” 

“Where…have you been all this time? I’ve been waiting…for someone like you…” You slowly reached up to pull his hand down, bringing it to your own face, pressing your cold cheek into his large palm. “For someone to keep me warm.” 

He had been there all this time; you just hadn’t seen him yet. But now, you would see all of him. Without thinking, Mingi brought his other hand to your face, gently cupping your cheeks and bringing himself down so that he could press his lips onto yours. It took everything in him to pull away just enough to whisper, “I’m here now. Is that…better?” 

For the first time, you felt like you could let your guard down, not be the lonely, hardened hunter you had to be. Now that you were safe, you could take a rest. “Better,” you whispered back, wrapping your arms around Mingi’s neck just in time to lay against his chest, losing the strength to stay awake. 

-

You woke up to the sensation of something intensely warm wrapped around you from behind, someone’s lips idly pressed to the nape of your neck, what felt like fluffy ears twitching near your hair, the soft fur tickling your exposed skin. The air around you was hot and heavy like you were stuck inside an oven, an enticing aroma of spiced cinnamon and woody musk clouding your senses. Your eyelids fluttered open, first noticing two strong arms locked around your middle, realizing Mingi was holding you close to him, his heated chest pressing into your back. 

Overcome by the memories of earlier, the forgotten intimacy of being touched and held by someone, the intense pheromones you were practically doused in, and the want, the need to be truly seen by Mingi, despite having just met a few hours ago, you attempted to turn around to face him, only to have him tighten his grip just enough to keep you still. “M-mingi, I want to look at you…I’m not mad, I just–”

“Do you know what you’re getting into, love?” he whispered in a gravelly voice into your ear, sounding like he had just woken up out of a deep sleep, sending a rush of goosebumps across your skin with just his words. “I’m not…what you think I am.” 

You sheepishly pushed back against Mingi, hearing him let out a soft groan, knowing he was just as satisfied with the way your body felt against his. “I already know, Mingi…I trust you. I’m not scared.” You felt his grip loosen up around your waist, opting to cement his hands around your waist.

His lips were now pressing directly onto the shell of your ear, making you shiver. “Do you know what I am, Y/N? Do you wish to see?” 

“I do…” 

It was then that Mingi climbed on top of you, his broad naked body keeping the glowing orange light of the fire from reaching you, the pelt you had offered him earlier falling into a pile on the side of the bed. Filled with a sense of lustful wonder, you studied Mingi, your half-closed eyes trailing along his tan skin, noticing how his wound had already healed completely, unable to ignore the arousing addition of his elongated canine teeth and the way his tongue ran across them. “You’re a…werewolf…”

Mingi’s fluffy wolf ears twitched slightly, listening closely to the way your breath hitched. “Most would be scared of me, but you…you like this.” 

You swallowed harshly, still finding it very difficult to breathe in the air around you, Mingi’s dominating presence further encouraging you to submit. “Will you eat me?” 

Mingi let out a small puff of air through his nose, the corners of his mouth curling up into an amused smile, lowering himself further onto you, knowing his heavy cock was pressing into your heat through your linen trousers. His lips ghosted along your jaw, the bushy end of his tail gliding back and forth along one of your ankles, replicating the light strokes of a paintbrush. “Only in the way that would have you begging for more.” The small moan that escaped your throat didn’t go unnoticed by Mingi. He nosed at your neck, resisting the urge to lick and bite at it. “Though, i won’t do anything without your permission, love.”

You cupped your hands around his heated face, your insides feeling as if they had been set ablaze. “Do with me what you will, Mingi. I insist.” 

When Mingi’s lips parted, you pressed yours onto them with a fervor you didn’t realize you possessed. The kiss grew more and more intense, the two of you holding onto one another as though you were afraid it all would end too soon, taking turns licking into each other’s willing mouths, breathing in each other’s air when you grew dizzy. 

Growing frustrated with the lack of skin on skin contact, Mingi pushed his large hands up past the hem of your woolen top and slid it off of you, admiring the soft curves of your exposed breasts, before his desperation kicked in and he nuzzled his face against them, sighing onto your skin. “Beautiful…” He dragged his tongue up in between your tits, grabbing one while he sucked desperately on the other, a low growl erupting from his throat. 

“Mingi,” you moaned out, your back arching, only encouraging him to see what other pretty noises he could get you to make, gasping when his sharp teeth teased your sensitive nipples. 

He licked over them to ease the sudden bout of pain, unable to keep himself from sucking one of them into his mouth, apologizing with his upturned eyebrows and his big, round eyes. 

You simply couldn’t take it anymore. You needed him to make a mess of your aching cunt, feeling your wetness stick to the thin linen material of your pants as you kicked them off. “Mingi, more, please, need more…” 

The werewolf knew what you needed when your fingers slid into his soft hair, leaving kisses along your bare body as he moved down south, getting himself comfortable between your spread thighs. “You want me to eat you up, yeah?” He spread your pussy open with his thumbs, nosing at it to inhale your flowery scent, quite aware that it bumped into your clit when he gave your slit an experimental lick, just enough to collect your essence on his tongue. “My beloved needs me to ravage her?” 

“Yes, plea–oh, my god,” you reacted whinily, your thighs involuntarily pressing into the sides of his head just as he dove in, which he grabbed onto, pushing them up and out of his way, his lips and tongue already working in tandem to drive you to a place of pleasure you’ve never been before. 

Mingi devoured your cunt in true animalistic fashion, licking and slurping up your juices as soon as it spilled out of you, just to spit it it back onto your slit and drink it all down, eventually plugging you up with his large tongue to feel you throb, unable to keep himself from fucking you with it until you began to cry out his name in between unintelligible words, your fingers tugging on his hair.

So good, it’s so good, nnnghh, i’m–” You cut yourself off once your impending orgasm took over your body, barely able to register Mingi rubbing soft circles into your shaking thighs and leaving kisses across your inner thigh and on your sensitive clit. You were finally brought back to earth when Mingi’s arousal coated tongue slipped into your mouth, his heated body pressing heavily into yours, gasping into his mouth as soon as Mingi began to desperately rut against you, doing your best to swallow his drool. It was when he whimpered that you broke the desperate kiss, asking softly, “What is it, dear? Tell me what you need.” 

“Need you, need to be inside you,” Mingi exhaled against your jaw, letting out a few shaky breaths, unable to keep himself from sinking his claws into your sheets, clearly at his limit. “Can I…? Please?” 

“Have your way with me, Mingi,” you granted his wish, welcoming him with open arms, just as he folded you up into a mating press and began to pound himself into you.

Mingi knew that such an intimate position would almost guarantee that you would home his pups after the very first knot. It drove him crazy. He couldn’t help but fuck into you as hard and fast as he could, emitting a animalistic grunt or growl with each thrust he made into your dripping cunt, a few drops of drool escaping past his plump lips and landing on your flushed, sweat-ridden face. “You’re mine now, love. My mate. I’m going to breed you.” 

“Y–ours…!” you could barely enunciate, not when he kept punching the air out of your petite body when his oversized one came in contact with yours, his heavy cock continually slipping back into your willing hole with so much ease, it was clear that you were made for him.

“Mine. My pretty little mate, all for me.” It was then that Mingi bit down into your neck, hard enough that he could leave his mark on you, a white hot streak of pleasure shooting through your spine as he did so. 

It felt so good, you could’ve swore you were already cumming, dragging your nails down his broad back, your eyes disappearing underneath your fluttering eyelashes. The werewolf didn’t seem to get tired, no matter how many times you came undone, his large hands still tugging on your hips, forcefully guiding you back onto his cock as though you were a simple doll, at least until you felt a new sensation, something stretching you open even further. “Haaah, it’s so big…”  

“That’s my knot, love. Will you take it, Y/N?” he panted into your ear, licking and nibbling at it as his husky voice finally penetrated your hazy mind.

“Yes, give it to me, please, Min…”

He hummed against your skin, running his hands along the soft edges of your heated body. “I’ll breed you full…so full of my cum, you’ll be carrying my pups by the next full moon.” 

Something about what Mingi said altered the state of your mind on a primal level, your thighs automatically hooking around the werewolf’s waist, your arms around his neck to hold him impossibly close. You wouldn’t be alone anymore. You had a “mate,” like Mingi had lovingly coined the phrase. You would be his, and he was yours, and something so simple made you feel safe. 

“Yes, please.” 

It wasn’t the heavy knot that stretched you wide and locked you in that brought tears to your eyes, but the sudden, hot, seemingly endless rush of cum that flooded your womb that made you cry. Mingi rubbed gentle circles over the small pouch that joined the prominent bulge his cock made inside your abdomen. “You did so well, love, so good for me,” he cooed at you, giving your cheek a few loving licks. “You were made for me.” 

“I was just thinking that,” you sighed softly, running your fingers through his matted, sweaty hair, loving how it felt to have him still stay inside you, keeping all his love from pouring out. It just felt right. Being here with Mingi felt right, like you had always been waiting for him to fall into your life. 

“That’s because you’re my other half.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, before resting his against yours. “It was destined.” 

“For me to shoot you with an arrow?” you joked, reaching up to gently play with one of his furry ears. 

Mingi nuzzled into your touch, wanting to stay with you in that moment, that warm bed, that cozy little cabin that kept you both safe for as long as he could. “I would get shot a million times over, if it meant that I could meet you again.” 

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[evansbby]

𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲’𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥✨🎀

Pairing: quarterback!Ari Levinson x naive!Reader

Summary: You have to do what daddy says, no matter how depraved it may be.

Warnings: smutt, dd/lg vibes, daddy kink, phone sex, riding of stuffed animals, dirty talk, Ari being depraved, Ari being a cocky asshole, innocence kink.

“But Ari, I’ve never sent nudes before.”

You bite your lip, moving your phone from one ear to the other. It was 2am, and you’re usually never awake this late. But you’d been working on a paper that was due tomorrow morning, and then Ari had called you.

Which was crazy. You didn’t even know Ari had your number. He was a senior and you were only a freshman and it was insane that he wanted to talk to you! You’d only ever met him once at a party last week, where he’d flirted with you sporadically throughout the night. You didn’t think much of it at the time, since he’d been flirting with a bunch of other girls too.

“Just lift your shirt up and send me a picture, sweetheart.” Ari insists, sounding smug on the other end of the line. “Maybe play with your tits a bit? Fuck, you have such nice tits.”

“Y-You think so?”

“Yeah, baby. I can’t stop staring at them whenever I see you in person.”

“Oh. Thanks!” You know you shouldn’t be happy with such a shallow compliment, but the fact that he’s interested in you is giving you butterflies. He was older than you, and he was the captain of the football team and the most popular guy on campus. You were, of course, none of those things.

“Well? Don’t keep me waiting.” There’s a slight edge to his tone.

You inhale deeply, opening your camera and lifting your top up. You’re not wearing a bra and your nipples are already hard from Ari’s smooth-talking and his gravelly voice. You snap a quick picture before sending it to him.

A pause.

“Fuck, you are so hot.”

“Thank you!” You glow at the praise. But then your eye catches the clock on your nightstand, “ooh, Ari, it’s getting late! I need to sleep now.”

“No.” Ari commands. “Let’s talk on FaceTime.”

“But I’m only in my PJs!” (They were babyish pyjamas too, nothing sexy at all.)

He ignores you, cutting the call and then calling you again through FaceTime. You accept it, gasping because he was shirtless on his bed. You’d never seen him shirtless before! His chest and torso were so muscular and hairy—but it made him look so manly that you couldn’t help but feel sparks run down your spine.

“Cute PJs.” He snorts.

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything sexier.”

“Don’t worry, baby. But maybe you should just take your top off completely, hm?”

“Oh, uh… I don’t know about that, Ari.”

“I’m not wearing a shirt, am I? So it’s only fair if you don’t wear one either.” He gives you a charming smile and you feel your insides turn to goo. Oh, you had the biggest crush on him! You can already feel every cell in your body itching to do exactly what he’s asked you to.

You shrug your top off, trying only to focus on Ari and how his eyes widen, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. He licks his lips and runs a hand through his unruly brown hair. His other hand is out of frame, and you can’t see what he’s doing with it.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn sexy, baby, showing off your hot, tight little body to me, huh?”

“I—I…uh… y-yeah, I guess—”

“Move up and down for me a bit, I wanna see your tits bounce. Mm, just like that, sweetie. Fuck, you love listening to me, don’t you?”

You watch in awe as he spits down into the palm of his hand, and now you can guess what his hand is doing and it makes your eyes widen but your core pulses with lust too.

“Look how hard your nipples are, baby. Touch ‘em for me. Play with them like a little slut, like how all the pornstars and slutty cam-girls do it. Like you’re being paid to do it, fuck! Goddamn, you’re so hot.”

He pans his camera downwards for a split second, and you gasp when you see his huge cock in his hand. He’s pumping it steadily, and it looks so big and fat and red and—

“B-But Ari, I’ve never watched porn before so I don’t know how a pornstar does it.” You blurt out.

A pause.

“Mm, you’re a real good girl aren’t you?” Ari chuckles breathlessly, running a hand through his hair again. He’s still pumping his dick, but more leisurely now, like a wolf who knows he has all night to play with his prey.

You shrug awkwardly, “I guess I am.”

“So tell me, how does a good girl like you like to be fucked?”

“Wh-What?!”

Ari snorts, “C’mon, sweetheart. You and I both know I’m gonna fuck you real soon. So I need to know how you like it. All sweet and slow? Because I can do that shit. Or are you a real freak in the sheets, and want me to shove your face against a pillow and take you hard and fast on your hands and knees?”

Your mouth drops open, and you suddenly feel so shy because how is he talking about such graphic things so easily???

“Mm, you like the sound of that second option huh?” Ari says, and now he sounds slightly breathless. His face is shiny with a layer of sheen, and his hair is falling over his face as he pumps his dick and his eyes look all over your topless form like he’s ravenous. “The innocent ones are always the freaky ones.”

“I’m not freaky!”

“So you don’t want me to fuck you doggy style with my hand round your throat like you’re wearing a goddamn collar, huh baby?” His voice sounds rough, gravelly, so infinitely turned on. And it’s crazy how quickly he switches back and forth from that to his casual, charming tone.

“Bet your little baby pussy is clenching right now, isn’t it baby? And I bet you’ve made a mess all over your bed because you’re so turned on.”

You glance down guiltily, hating how he’s right. There’s a huge wet stain on your sheets underneath you. You hadn’t realised just how wet you were because of all this. You bow your head and Ari smirks knowingly.

“Virgins get the wettest. And you’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

Your eyes widen even more and you nod. Fuck, fuck, fuck, how did he know?!

“That’s what I thought.” Ari lets out a low groan, jacking off even faster. “Now listen, I want you to practice for when I fuck you.”

“Practice?”

“Yes, baby. I need to teach you so many things. But first tell me, do you have a stuffed animal in your room?”

Your face lights up, “Sure I do! This is Fluffy!” You grab your stuffed lamb and wave it in front of your camera.

“Give Fluffy a kiss.” Ari orders you darkly, his tone switching to more serious.

“Huh?”

“You heard me. Give your toy a kiss.” His normally blue eyes are now almost black, his pupils are so blown out with lust. And his order is kind of weird but you feel your pussy clench and leak some more, and you know you’re turned on by how authoritative he’s being.

You obey, pecking the stuffed lamb quickly. You feel embarrassed but you’re also feeling extremely submissive. And obeying him is turning you on so much.

“Not like that, baby. Make out with Fluffy properly. Like you would if it was me.” Ari says, and you look at him in shock only to see him smirking lazily back at you. His dick is throbbing against his hairy abs and he’s once again lazily stroking himself as he watches you intently. “Use your tongue.”

It’s by far the weirdest thing you’ve ever done. You scrunch your eyes shut and try to imagine your stuffie is Ari. And it’s not like you haven’t done it before — because you’ve practiced kissing on your stuffies in the past. But never in front of an audience, let alone a ravenous looking jock who’s jacking off while watching your every move intently.

“Mm, just like that. You like kissing Fluffy, huh?” He asks you darkly, and you can hear the steady thwapping sound of him pumping his dick.

“Uh. Not really, it’s kind of wei—”

“Use your tongue more,” he cuts you off, “get your little toy nice and wet, baby. Mm, just like that. Daddy loves it when you do it like that.”

You gape at him, “d-daddy?”

Ari smirks, “yeah. That’s what you’re gonna call me from now on. Got it?”

You gulp, “I didn’t know that was a thing.”

He licks his lips, “of course you didn’t know, you’re just a baby. But guys love it when girls call them daddy. It just means I’m in charge of you and that I’ll take care of you. That sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

You mull over his words. That did sound nice, and the idea of calling him daddy was kinda making you feel all hot and bothered down there…

“Try it.” Ari suggests, “Say that you’re just a little baby who needs her daddy to tell her what to do.”

You bite your lip, “uh—okay. I-I’m just a little baby and I need my… my daddy to tell me what to do.” You pause and beam, looking at him through your phone screen proudly, “how was that?”

He nods approvingly, “you’re a natural, baby. Now why don’t you put Fluffy between your legs so he can kiss your other lips?”

Your jaw drops, and yet you feel yourself clench at his words, “What??”

“Come on, sweetheart. Do it for daddy. I’m not here to give you your special kissies down there, which means Fluffy has to do it, right?”

“Special k-kissies?”

“That’s right. Little baby girls like you need their special kissies or else you’ll disappoint your daddy.”

You glance down at your pyjama shorts which are soaking wet. Despite you feeling awkward, you also felt immensely turned on by each word that came out of his mouth. How he was ordering you to do these depraved things… How he was talking to you all condescendingly like you were a baby… Oh, you didn’t want to disappoint him!

Slowly, you spread your legs and press Fluffy down against your clothed mound. You make sure to pan your phone downwards so Ari can see, and he groans appreciatively. His thumb strokes the head of his dick before he moves his hand up and down, now leisurely stroking himself as if he wants to savour these next few moments.

“That’s right, hump your sexy little baby pussy against your toy. Doesn’t that feel so sexy, baby?”

You nod, “feels good, Ari—I mean daddy. It feels good.”

“Damn right it does, daddy always knows what’s best for my little baby.” He runs his hand through his already dishevelled hair. His cheeks are flushed and he’s got a dark, determined look on his face as he continues to jack off, his eyes glued on you.

“Ride your little stuffie just like that,” he murmurs, “get that pretty baby pussy all wet and slippery and worked up, ready for my daddy dick. How’s that sound, princess? You ready for daddy’s dick?”

You bite your lip again, this time in pleasure as you continue to rub your pussy against the stuffie, “I think so. But you’re so big…”

That makes him smile, and he pans his camera down again to show you his fat, angry red cock. He’s got a huge vein running down it, and you get the sudden urge to lick it. God, he was so big! And thick too! You feel giddy and scared at the thought that he might actually be your first…

“H-How many girls have you slept with, daddy?” you ask shyly.

“Only a few,” he snorts, his tone vague before the glint in his eye returns. “I think I’ll only be able to fit my big dick halfway through your tiny snatch.” He says, “What do you think, baby?”

You nod, “I agree, you’re—uh— super big, daddy.”

“Mmhm, but you’d love it even more if I held you down and forced my fat cock inside your baby cunt till I’m all the way in, so deep you can feel me in your fucking womb, wouldn’t you?” he lets out a string of curse words as he pumps himself, “Tell me you’d like that.”

“I would!” You cry, feeling like you’re so, so close to cumming, “d-daddy, I—”

“Shhh, baby girl. Daddy knows,” Ari’s watching you like a hawk as your movements grow more and more desperate, your hips rutting against your poor stuffed lamb. “Put your phone up against your pillow or something, so I can watch you ride your toy properly.”

You do as he asks, no questions asked. And it’s times like this where you feel extremely lucky that you don’t have a roommate. And you hope Ari doesn’t either.

“Yeah, just like that. Get your toy all wet, sweetheart. Fuck, you’re so sexy,” Ari spits down on his palm before resuming to pump his cock, “bet you wish it was daddy underneath you like that, don’t you? Bet you wish I was eating your cunt just like that.”

You fist the sheets, trying not to look at your stuffie as you straddle it, humping it like a wanton whore.

“Yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” A few strands of his brown hair flip over his forehead, and he pushes them back impatiently, “Riding your daddy’s tongue, rubbing your baby cunt all over my face while you hold your little stuffed animal and cry like a baby ‘cause it’s too much for a little girl like you to handle.”

“Oh, I’d really like that!” you cry out, the pleasure within you mounting as you continue to breathlessly rub against your stuffie. You don’t even know what you’re saying anymore, but he’s painting such a vivid, hot picture with his words that you can’t help but agree. “W-Wanna ride you so bad, daddy. Would be so much – ah! – so much better than Fluffy!”

Ari smirks, “Damn right, it would. And tell me how you’d dress up for me, baby.”

“Would wear anything you want me to!”

“Yeah? What about a pretty pink princess dress? You’d wear that for daddy?”

“Y-Yeah!”

“A cute and flouncy one, where your cute little ass pokes out every time you bend over in it,” he grunts, leaning forward as his pumping gets faster, “Your bare ass just begging for a hard slap – fuck! Tell me you’d like that!”

“I’d love it!” you agree quickly, your whole body on fire just from his words. But then, despite everything, a thought occurs to you, “B-But, daddy. I don’t have a flouncy pink dress like that.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll buy you one.” Ari promises. “But first, you need to take your shorts off for me.”

You don’t even object this time. The fabric of your pyjama shorts is all wet and sticky against your pussy, so you quickly discard them before resuming what you’re doing. And you can’t help but throw your head back and moan embarrassingly loudly, because the stuffie’s fur catching against your bare clit feels heavenly. You circle your hips against Fluffy with renowned vigour, all while Ari watches you closely with carnal eyes.

“Show me your ass,” he orders you softly, and yet there’s a note of authority in his tone, “show daddy your cute little baby ass, sweetheart.”

You grab your phone, scrunching your eyes shut as you twist awkwardly, pointing it to your ass. But your heart skips a beat when Ari groans in appreciation.

“Fuck, you’ve got such a cute little butt, princess,” Ari murmurs, his gaze on you intense. “I bet it jiggles all cutely when you slap it, huh?”

“I – ah! – I dunno…”

His dark eyes flash, “Slap your ass for me, princess.”

Oh gosh, how embarrassing! You hesitate, “I…I…”

“Do it. Do what daddy tells you,” Ari runs his tongue over his lips, “I’m in charge and I know what’s best for you, sweetheart. Don’t disappoint me. Spank your little baby ass for daddy.”

You do as he asks, so completely under his control that you just can’t think straight. All you want to do is chase your own pleasure as you continue to ride your stuffed animal, and listen to the dirty talk coming out of Ari’s mouth. You gingerly slap your ass lightly, and Ari moans in appreciation before ordering you to do it harder. You comply once more, you’re so close to orgasming that you don’t even think twice.

“Yeah, fuck. Just like that, baby. God, I wish I could spank that cute ass of yours myself. Next time I see you at a party, I’m bending you over my lap in front of everyone. You’d let me do that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes!” You’d have agreed to anything at this point.

“Damn right. And I’d flip your skirt over and spank your bare ass in front of all my fucking friends, because you’re my property and I can do that, can’t I?”

“Y-Yes! Ari, I’m so close!”

“Oh yeah, baby? Cum then. I’m not stopping you.”

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, and you don’t stop moving your hips, imagining your riding his thick cock as you cry out in pleasure. And you can hear Ari talking you through it, calling you his good little girl, telling you that daddy’s so proud of you, that you’re doing so well, that you’re so good at following instructions. And fuck, you’ve never been this wet before, and you’ve never cum this hard before. It takes you a good few minutes to recover, limbs shaking and your core so sensitive.

Once you finally regain your senses, you peer shyly at your phone once more to see Ari throwing away a wad of tissues.

“D-Did you…?”

He snorts, “After that show you just put on? Of course I did.”

Heat rushes to your face, a part of you disappointed that you missed out on watching him orgasm because you were too wrapped up in your own pleasure. “Oh. Wow, okay.”

Ari grins, “Look at you, all shy all of a sudden. Cat got your tongue, baby?”

You purse your lips and stick your chin out defiantly at him, “No! Just… Tired is all.”

Ari nods thoughtfully, “Tired, huh? So then I shouldn’t come over tonight?”

Tonight? But it was so late! And yet your pussy thrums at the thought.

“Y-You wanna come over?” You breathe.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I gotta touch you in person, otherwise I won’t be able to sleep the whole night.” He flashes you a cocky smile, and you watch in awe as he zips his jeans and pulls a shirt over his head. You can’t help but bite your lip. God, he was the most attractive, hottest guy you’d ever seen in your life!

“So, you gonna text me your address, or what?”

“Yes, daddy.”

So like… when I get horny, I tend to write things like this. ANYWAYS, lemme know what you think! Love you guys! This was sitting in my drafts for ages and finally I decided to finish it! 🩷🩷🩷

[vrystalius]

The demon outside my bedroom

(Kokushibo x hashira!fem!reader, slight spoilers for his backstory)

Every night, at the exact same time, you would hear a soft knock on your bedroom door. A large, dark figure stood in your garden, waiting to be let inside. But after sliding your door aside, you were greeted by your boyfriend’s six eyes staring back at you.

“My moonlight.”

His voice was deep and would rumble in his chest, making you shiver. After inviting your demon inside, the bedroom lights would illuminate his face. Six eyes staring expectantly at you, waiting for something. As a sign of trust, the demon would close his upper and lower two eyes, only leaving the ones in the center. He looked less demonic, perhaps he’s trying to please you by trying to look more human?

“Kokushibo.”

Your voice felt like a soothing melody to him. It calmed his mind, soul and body in an instant. When you cup Kokushibo’s cheeks, he fully leaned into your touch. He misses being with you during the day and having you close to him. Kokushibo leaned closer to your face, admiring your features. When his lips met yours, Kokushibo sighed softly. Your lips felt warm and moist, so welcoming. So intoxicating.

His cold hands would carefully hover over your neck, slowly setting down on your collarbone. Kokushibo opened all six of his eyes and let his mind engrave a portrait of you into his memory. He cannot remember his late wife, kids, friends or family. Just of his damned brother. But he wants to remember you, so that when the time comes that you are not around, Kokushibo would cherish every single memory, every single time he saw your face, felt your hands, lips, hair, for all eternity.

Ever since Kokushibo fell for you, he followed Akaza’s path and avoided eating women, and eating humans entirely. He tries to deprave himself from consuming human flesh until he absolutely needs it. He feels like he would dirty or taint you if he kisses you with the same mouth he consumes humans with. Luckily, Muzan hasn’t noticed his new diet yet. Or rather the lack of it.

Kokushibo is an extremely jealous man, and even thinking about other hashira flirting with you, makes him feel incredible rage. You can’t tell any of your colleagues about your relationship since you can’t really openly talk about dating the number 2 worst enemy of you all. So instead of telling your hashira with words that you are not single, Kokushibo took it upon himself to demonstrate it on your body.

He will nibble and kiss your whole neck, leaving obvious hickeys in places where you cannot hide them. Kokushibo enjoys making you squirm while he does this, taking pleasure from your whining and complaining. He will hold you close, holding you by your waist and neck while doing this affectionate assault.

Your skin is the sweetest, forbidden fruit he has ever tasted, and Kokushibo is incredibly grateful that he is the only man that ever experience you like this. He will make sure that he is going to be the only and the last man to ever experience you like this.

“My moon, my dearest moonlight. You are mine and I am yours, and I swear to protect you for all eternity.

💠

I’ll probably make this into a mini series, and I’ll write something similar for the other Upper Moons and Muzan. Perhaps, if someone requests it, I’ll do something similar for the hashira and a demon reader. I would like to credit my cat as a co-author.

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK.

Take care of yourselves <3

The demon that… masterlist

[pedropascallme]

☆Kinktober 2024☆

Day 12: Mutual masturbation

Pairing: Damien Haas x f!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI!!!!) mutual masturbation, mild dom/sub dynamics (softdom!Damien is BACK baby!!) dirty talk, little bit of cum play, if I missed anything please let me know!

AN: I actually wrote another mutual masturbation fic with Damien a few months ago, so if that's your thing, you can find it here :D

He wasn’t ignoring you—not purposefully.

Damien had tucked away in a corner of the house, glued to the screen of the desktop computer.

You approached quietly, watching the muscle in his wrist just barely flex when he clicked the mouse.

For as long as you’d been together—and prior to that, as long as you’d been friends—you knew Damien was the type to get hung up on small details. He’d focus until he was burnt out; he’d try to deal with everything in one go and become deeply frustrated when that backfired on him.

He was detail oriented, almost painstakingly so.

At least right now he was hyper-focused on something harmless, something that brought him real joy.

Still, it was going on midnight, and you wanted him in bed with you—for the more selfish purposes, yes, but also because he’d be mad at himself if he stayed up too late, which would morph into a deep-seated grumpiness that would, in turn, make him feel guilty.

“Do you plan on coming to bed on your own tonight?” You draped an arm loosely over his shoulder, leaning over him, “Or am I going to have to drag you there myself?”

Damien leaned his head back against you, eyes glued to the computer screen. It was Elder Scrolls, you knew that much, but which version, you couldn’t tell.

“I’m playing,” he was smiling, that toothy, lopsided grin that he wore, an expression of unbridled joy and genuine amusement.

Your favorite version of him.

“It’s late, Dames…” You bent down and pressed your face into his neck, brushing your lips to his skin.

He let out a contented sigh. “Late to you. To a vampire—very early.”

You removed yourself from his neck, taking the two steps forward that let you position yourself in front of him, leaning the back of your thighs on his desk.

“Game will still be there in the morning…” You reached out to brush your knuckles over his cheek.

He turned his head slightly, ghosting a kiss over your hand. “But I’m…I dunno…” He huffed, still smiling, but his brow creased slightly. “It’s been such a busy week and I want to unwind. And even though it’s late and I’m exhausted, I’m not…tired.” He explained, pulling your hand from his face and lacing his fingers with yours.

You lifted yourself onto the desk, careful not to push anything off the surface.

“Well…I can think of plenty of ways to tire you out…” You purred, and though you meant it as a tease, you were only half joking.

Damien leaned back against the chair he was in, letting your hand go in favor of reaching out to hold your leg.

“Go on.” He smirked, rolling his shoulders.

“I mean, I could—” You tried to rattle off a list of the first depraved things that came to mind, but he cut you off, squeezing your thigh.

“Don’t tell me,” his smirk contorting into a wolfish grin, “Show me.”

You bit lazily at your bottom lip.

“Right here?” There was a ghost of a smile on your face, the merriment you felt momentarily winning out over the lust that had begun to swell within you.

“It’s what you’re thinking about right now, isn’t it?” Damien removed his grip from your leg, bringing his hands behind his head. He spread his thighs and quirked a brow. “Go ahead, princess.”

You stared down at him from your perch on the desk, sucking the inside of your cheeks for a moment as you considered his challenge.

You gave in immediately.

“Fine,” You put your hands on your thighs, leaning forward for emphasis. “I will.”

Leisurely, your fingers danced under the hem of your sleep shirt, tugging at the fabric. You lifted it over your head slowly, revealing your bare chest to him, your nipples pebbling from exposure to the air of the room.

You tossed your shirt in Damien’s lap, and he grabbed it with both hands, white knuckling the fabric, his gaze piercing. He let out a sigh, a soft growl, urging you to continue.

You put your hands on your neck, trailing your palms down over the swell of your breasts and over your stomach, fingertips grazing the waistband of your shorts. You brought them back up to your chest, kneading the supple flesh, pinching your nipples. The feeling sent shivers down your spine, and you subconsciously arched into your own touch.

“I would’ve gotten you to make a lot more noise by now.” Damien’s voice was smug, but his jaw was tight.

Defying his words as best you could, you caught his eyes, letting out a breathy moan while you rolled your nipple between your thumb and forefinger.

Damien took a deep breath, as if to collect himself. His head tilted back slightly, but he found your gaze again and matched it.

“Feels better when I do it, doesn’t it?” He asked, and you squeaked.

“You said I should show you what I want,” you mumbled, dropping your head to watch your hands massage your breasts. “That’s what I’m doing, Damien.”

“And this is what you want, princess?” He smiled, “You want me to tire myself out by playing with your tits?” He let go of your shirt, tossing it to the floor, and shifting in his seat.

The way he said it, gravelly and pleased, made you swallow down a whimper.

But the way he’d moved the obstruction of your shirt from his lap and spread his legs wider to reveal the obvious tent in his sweatpants made your lips part to allow the sound out.

“I have other ideas, if this doesn’t do it for you…” You mewled, still palming your chest.

He didn’t grace you with a verbal response, offering a simple nod, darkened eyes goading you.

You let your hands fall down your body, shimmying out of your shorts and exposing yourself to him. You spread your legs, shifting your weight on the desk in a teasing display.

“Fuck,” Damien’s voice was strained; still domineering but having more trouble holding it together now. “Were you—were you this wet when you came in here, or is that just…?” He shifted his jaw, grinding his teeth and letting his sentence trail off.

You were spurred on by his lapse in dominance, enjoying the fact that you could get him so distracted and wound up by simply flashing your bare cunt to him.

You dragged your hand over your stomach, stopping when your fingers brushed over your clit. You let out a needy sound. Wound up so tightly after groping yourself and listening to him speak over your movements, you were convinced you could cum just like this.

Your fingers spread you apart, fully exposing your glistening hole, and Damien groaned as you circled yourself with your fingers.

“Come on,” his lips parted as he stared, the rise and fall of his chest becoming more pronounced. “Show me.”

Maintaining eye contact with him, you dipped an albeit shaky finger into your sex, down to the knuckle. Your breath caught in your throat, eyes closing briefly as you finally gave your body what it had been craving.

You rocked your hips, slowly thrusting the digit in and out of yourself.

“There you go…” Damien smiled up at you wickedly, “Look at you, princess, so self-sufficient. Is this you trying to tell me that you only want one of my fingers?”

You shook your head, moaning, and pushed another finger inside yourself.

With a groan, Damien gave in to his own urges completely, and you watched him hook a thumb under the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down enough to release his cock. It bounced against him, tip wet with precum, and you whimpered.

He licked his palm, bringing his hand down to smear the precum and his spit down his length and subconsciously matching the rhythm of your fingers as you pumped them in and out.

“This is what you were thinking about, isn’t it?” The question was entirely rhetorical—he knew what you were thinking, knew you were as desperate to get fucked as he was to fuck you.

You offered a weak nod, the pressure of your release building slowly but surely somewhere deep behind your stomach.

You brought one of your legs up, pressing your foot against the surface of the desk to switch the angle to one that would get you there faster.

Damien groaned, sliding his hand over his cock, using the image of you spread out and fucking yourself on his desk to chase his own release.

“Good, princess,” he spoke through clenched teeth, the muscle in his jaw twitching, “Say it. Say that you’re thinking about getting fucked.”

Your breath was stuttered, fingers curling into the tender spot inside you.

“I—yeah, I’m thinking about—about getting fucked…” You managed to squeak out, heavily lidded eyes tracking the movement of his hand over his cock.

“Yeah—yeah, by who?” He coaxed you, twisting his wrist. He watched you drip over your fingers, coating yourself in your own juices, and it was an exercise in self-control for him to not lean forward and press his face into your cunt; lap you up and lick you clean.

“You, Damien,” your eyes closed, your jaw dropped, and you felt the familiar buzz take over your body. “You.”

“Fuck, that’s right,” he keened at your words, brow furrowed as he watched you near your high. “You can do it, baby, you’re so close—fuck your hand, let me see you make yourself cum.”

You were in exactly the right spot, and upon hearing his words, you felt a swell of pleasure; something pushing down on your body in all the right ways, contorting you and satisfying you as your walls clenched and your back arched.

You moaned, letting out unsteady breaths to match your trembling thighs. You continued to press your fingers into yourself, mimicking as best you could the way he always prolonged your pleasure until it became overwhelming, brushing your delicate spots and making you cry out.

“Oh, fuck—” Damien moaned at the sight, the shiver that overtook your body and made you cry out for him. He fucked his fist faster at the thought of how you’d look beneath him, crying that way and begging for more of him. “You’re so fucking pretty, baby, you’re so—you’re so perfect. Fuck, I’m gonna cum…” He jerked himself quickly, spilling over his hand with a low moan.

He panted, all but going limp in his seat as his head fell back, a parallel to the way you had slumped against the wall behind you, taking heaving breaths after you’d finally removed your fingers from your cunt.

He picked his head up, admiring you with a soft smile.

“What?” You scoffed, smiling back at him.

“I’m still not tired.” He smirked at you.

Moving off the desk in a manner most ungraceful, you took his playfulness as permission to drape yourself over his lap, sagging against him and grabbing his wrist.

“That’s a shame…” You brought his hand to your mouth, sucking on his fingers and savoring the bitter spend that had dripped over him. “Gonna just sit here and play games you’ve already played all night?” You quirked a brow, swirling your tongue over his middle finger before dropping his hand.

“Oh,” he smiled, wrapping his arms around you, “I’m gonna play, just…probably not out here and definitely not on this computer.”

He stood, lifting you, and you laughed.

“Monitor is still on.” You nuzzled against him, and he tilted his face down at you.

“Baby, I love your mindfulness, but I could not care less about what’s happening on that screen right now.”

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Princess

Mike Schmidt x Female! Reader

Summary: You detest having a roommate. You enjoy cheap rent. One of these things is going to have to change at some point, and with the week you're having? There's only so long before people reach a breaking point.

Tags: Smut. Filthy smut. (This is the first smut I've published too, so enjoy that.) Enemies to lovers, mocking, Mike is so OoC at some parts you could really shove anyone into this role, I'm going to be so extremely for real. (I'm honestly just feral for the actor. Sorry.) Hate fucking, dirty talk, cursing, cucking(??), listening in, masturbating, dumbification, slight dacrophillia(??), Abby's out of the equation for this scenario. Imagine like, early 20s Mike, he's not caretaker yet. Praising, pet names (good girl, princess, whore, pretty girl), no use of Y/N. Dom! Mike, teasing Reader, Brat (??) Reader, phone sex, walking in on masturbation, walking in on sex, possessive! Mike, hickies/bite marks, finger sucking, hair pulling, slut shaming, probably missing some things imma be honest. Just assume this is depraved.

Notes: I'd like to apologize to God and Josh Hutcherson. This is filth and I recognize my eternal soul is indeed damned. Anyways, bone apple teet.

▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

I didn't mind Mike when I met him, you know.

He's quiet. Shy. Keeps to himself. Those traits should make for a good roommate. If he'd kept his mess confined to his room, maybe the music that he blares just a little too loudly wouldn't be so headache inducing.

My fingers rap on the thin door, demanding his attention which is never given to me unless I make a production out of it. We both know that.

"Michael," I say.

Silence.

"Mike."

Nothing.

I open the door and there he is, peacefully asleep on his bed as the bass shakes the water in his glass. I sigh and click off the stereo, then turn to leave. It's incredible how quickly I hear him shift on the bed, scrambling to stand.

"The fuck?" He croaks, wiping sleep from his eyes.

"Your music was blaring. I already heard it from Mrs. Jones upstairs about you waking her kid up, I'm not dealing with that again," I say raising my hands up in the air defensively.

"I don't sleep well," he says.

"Neither does the baby," I say.

Mike rolls his eyes, turning the music back on and turning his back to me.

"Michael-"

"Don't call me that," he interrupts.

It's my turn to roll my eyes. "Schmidt, can you at least turn it down? I'm asking nicely," I say. He stands there for a moment and though I can't see his face, I know he's thinking.

Finally, with a sigh he says "Fine, princess."

"Don't call me that," I say. I hear a small huff of laughter from him and he turns to look at me.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hit a nerve?" He asks with false sympathy.

"It's a simple request," I say. My eyes narrow at him in irritation.

"Which one?"

"Both."

We stand there for a moment, both of us sizing the other up, taking each other in.

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine."

With the agreement having been made, I turn to leave, shutting the door behind me.

Year long lease. Joy.

-Tuesday-

"Hurry up!" Yells Mike, pounding on the bathroom door.

"I'm fucken hurrying!" I yell back, my hands working as fast as they can to wash off my body. Late alarm, fever dreams causing me to wake in a pool of stinking sweat, and one bathroom make for a horrendous cocktail of repeated 'fuck you's through the cheap door.

"I'm gonna be late!" Mike yells.

"So am I, I'm sorry!"

There's a moment of long silence and I think maybe Mike has finally found a spot of pity, realizing that maybe we aren't enemies but simply humans who unfortunately have to coexist in this world together. Then the water turns freezing, and I realize I hate him.

"Michael!" I practically scream. Traces of soap still reside on my body, but the cold and my alarm both force me out. Angered and not thinking clearly, I wrap the towel around my dripping waist and swing the door open.

"Are you fucking happy?" I sneer, face inches from his.

His expression is initially satisfied, but as his eyes flicker downwards he and I both realize my mistake. His eyes widen, lingering for a moment on my bare chest as he processed what he was seeing, then returning to meet my glare.

"What?" I ask sharply. "You've never seen a pair before?"

He stammers. "I-I have."

"Don't act like it," I say. "Take a fucken photo, be the only pair you'll probably ever see in your life, dicksmack."

As though he remembers himself, his eyes narrow. "Move, princess."

I slam past him, walking quickly towards my room and slamming the door behind me.

"Don't wake the baby!" Mike mocks down the hall.

Oh, motherfucker. It is on.

-Wednesday-

It's hard to break a lease. It's harder when nothing as cheap exists in the area. This is a problem for both Mike and I. I know it's true for him because apparently even his bills are too troublesome to keep on the floor of his room. But despite his mess, it's him that comes barreling down the hall, bursting into my room with no warning.

"Jesus, Michael!" I start, spinning around in my chair. "Have you ever heard of knocking?"

"Have you ever heard of washing a dish?" He sneers. "It's not hard. My baby sister could do it."

"Oh, is she available? I'd love to see how she'd handle your laundry situation," I retort.

"Why is it impossible for you to actually wash something? You'll put water in it, let it soak. I respect that, but then you never come back to it. Do you enjoy flies? I think you enjoy flies," he says with hate dripping off of his words. I roll my eyes, but he's not entirely wrong either.

"Fine," I mutter. "I'll do the dishes. Sorry."

"See? Look at how hard that was, princess." He begins to turn away.

"Will you quit fucking calling me that?" I snap.

"I'm following our bargin. You're the one who slips first, princess," he says while laughing, raising his hands in defense.

A long moment passes, neither of us willing to back down.

"Do the dishes yourself," I say finally, turning back to the computer.

"Not my mess," he says.

"Too bad. I'm too delicate," I say with a faux breathiness to my voice. The door slams behind him, which has me instantly rising from my chair to race after him.

"Don't slam my door!" I say.

"You did it the other day!" He says, spinning around to face me and almost slipping on one of his shirts littering the hall. I can't help but smile at that.

"Problems?" I ask.

"Yeah, they exist in whatever demon spawned you," he hisses. His eyes catch on something though, narrowing as he leans slightly closer. "The fuck is on your neck?" He asks.

"The fuck you mean 'the fuck is on my neck?'" I ask.

"I mean you've got something on your neck," he says.

"No I don't," I say. "Move." I shove past him to enter the bathroom beside us, flicking on the light and feeling my irritation rise as he reaches to do the same thing simultaneously.

"See?" He says, pointing at a small, dark mark on my neck.

Fuck.

"I don't fucken know what that is," I lie, covering it with my hand.

"You liar, that's a hickey!" He says still pointing at it.

"Is not!"

"Is too. What, are you fucking some high-schooler?" He scoffs.

"Adults leave hickies too, Mike. It can be enjoyable. You'd know this if someone ever wanted to fuck you," I spit back.

"Who on earth would enjoy having sex with you?" He asks. "The only loads you leave attract flies I don't want to have to deal with come summer."

My jaw drops in shock.

"And the only loads you leave smell like menthols and depression!" I retort.

Staring. Always staring with this guy. Jaws clentched, eyes narrowed.

"Just don't bring this guy around here," he finally says. His voice is quieter but the edge is still there.

I blink. "What?"

"You heard me," he says. "I don't need to hear your shrill voice like that."

Am I imagining things or is he blushing? No, I'm definitely imagining things. It's the florescents.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I taunt. The fuck kind of response was that?

His eyes widen slightly. "No," he says a little too quickly.

"What, you get one look at my tits and now you're thinking about that degenerate shit?" I press, stepping closer.

"I don't- this-" He's blundering. I've got him now, I've found his weak spot.

Without a word, I slip out of the bathroom and return to my room, shutting the door and beginning a plan that will guarantee I won't have to worry about being the roommate that breaks lease and looks for a new apartment.

-Thursday-

"Are you close, baby?" The sweet voice on the phone asks me. The battery on my toy is flashing, showing one of us needs to finish soon. And while I like Nick, there was just something lacking in him that kept me on this irritating edge, hiding my release from me.

"I'm close," I confirm, switching hands to try and hit a new angle. The video on the computer is doing nothing to help with this at all, and I'm so bored I'm tempted to just fake it and seal the deal.

The plan was simple. Establish dominance over my roommate via fucking a guy I'd met at some party the week before. Nick was an easy target, too busy thinking with his dick to question why I was suddenly insistent on him coming over. And to guarantee his presence at the apartment, I would have to put in work. Not that I wasn't fully uninterested. He was alright, I was single. Beneficial for everyone involved.

The vibrator finally found that sweet spot, the one that made me cry out softly into the receiver as my wrist pumped with newfound vigor.

"Close," I told Nick. "Isn't as good as you though."

Nick chuckles softly. "You're sweet," he says. Then he's prattling sweet praises, whimpering into the phone breathily along with me as I finally begin to tip over the edge, moaning loudly and clearly. It's my luck that Mike should be at work at this moment.

Should be.

Wasn't.

The door opens as Mike walks in, his mind obviously focused on something else but immediately taken aback at the sight of me sprawled upon the bed, legs open, toy in hand, Nick on phone, porn on computer. Shit.

"Jesus!" Mike shouts. "It's the middle of the day!"

"Get the fuck out!" I shout back, my voice less vicious than I'd like given that I was mid-ruined orgasm. Mike covers his eyes, trying to stumble out of the door without looking, muttering a dozen apologies a second before finally reaching and slamming the door shut behind him.

Nick and I are both silent for a long while, neither of us sure what to say.

"So... I'll see you tomorrow?" I ask finally.

"...yeah." He says. And with the click of my phone, the plan is solidified.

-

I don't see Mike that evening until about three hours later when he finally emerges from his room with pink cheeks and clothed in a large hoodie he seems to wish would swallow him whole.

"Hey," I say to him. I chew on my cheap food slowly, flipping through my novel at the cluttered table.

"Hi," he says quietly, not really making eye contact with me. He crosses to the cabinets, taking out a glass and filling it with water. We listen to the tap for a moment before I finally say "I didn't mean for you to see that."

His eyebrows scrunch in confusion. "I got that."

More silence. The tap shuts off and he leans against the sink, taking a long sip.

"So... hickey guy?" He finally asks. And I can't help the snort that escapes me.

"Nick," I say.

"And he's...?" Mike is testing the waters, that much is obvious.

"Canadian," I say.

Mike nods. Sip. Silence.

"Nick, from Canada," he says slowly.

"Yep," I say, popping the 'p.'

Mike looks at his drink in thought.

"So you're into Canadians," he finally says. I think for a moment.

"No," I say. I mark my book and close it. "Just bored."

"Just bored?" Mike asks.

"Just bored," I confirm.

Sip. Silence. Thinking.

"You... do that regularly?" He asks.

"I mean... I like sex," I say.

His cheeks redden at that, and he takes another sip as though to hide that.

"He's coming over tomorrow," I say casually. Mike's eyes dart to mine, dark and wide.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Another sip. He finishes his glass.

"Should I find plans for tomorrow?" He asks finally.

"No," I say a bit too quickly. Both of our cheeks redden at that. "I mean, we won't... shouldn't...." I don't know what I mean.

Mike stares at me thoughtfully for a moment then looks back to the glass in his hand.

"You're pretty loud, princess," he finally says quietly.

There's a new tension in the air. One that isn't brought on by hate or dirty dishes. One that I don't mind strangely.

"You could join us, if you'd like," I offer. Mike's grip on the glass tightens so suddenly I'm almost surprised it doesn't burst.

"I- I'm pretty sure I'd get in the way," he stammers. Then his eyes darken, a strange look in them. "Besides, I don't like being a whore."

This comment stings. Deeply.

"I'm not a whore," I say defensively.

"Oh?" Mike asks.

"He's the only guy I've fucked in months, so yeah," I say.

"Oh, is that why I hear you moaning late at night all the fucking time?" Mike says. "Seriously, you're fucking loud."

"And you're a fucking virgin," I snap.

"Says who?" He asks.

"Forget it," I say. I gather my things and rise from my chair. "Don't fucking talk to me."

"Fine," he scoffs. "I'll wash this dish too, princess," he calls after me.

I spin around. "You would be so much more fuckable if you were easy to swallow," I snapped, stomping my foot like a child.

Both of us stare at each other in a bit of shock at what I just said.

"Most girls swallow just fine, thank you," he retorts.

"Who's the whore now?" I say. I don't wait for him to respond, slamming the door shut behind me.

Fine. Let him hate me. That's the whole point of this anyways. Then it'll be me and someone else in this terrible fucking apartment. Maybe it'll be Nick. Anyone would be better, I tell myself.

...

...how easy is Mike to swallow?

-Friday-

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't struggling to remember the correct name right now.

Nick is underneath me, pumping his cock in and out like no tomorrow as I grind against him. My jaw is slack, my hands buried in the blankets fabric underneath of us. I'm staring at the thin door though, the thin door that I know leaks every little noise whether there's a towel under the enormous crack or not. And the shadows of footsteps that I see make it all the easier for Nick to continue his shallow rhythm, edging me closer and closer.

"Mi-Nick," I moan loudly. It sounds endearing, thankfully. But my heart races at how close I've come to fucking things up in a few different ways. "Fuck, you're thick," I moan. It's not particularly true, but his size is fine, so what's an ego boost to help him along the way?

Nick is sweet underneath of me, moaning that I'm his, that we're each others. That's great and all, but God. There is this missing edge. And it isn't until I hear pounding on the bedroom door that I finally feel real excitement begin to flow through me.

"We need to talk," Mike's voice says firmly.

Nick looks guilty, his eyes wide and asking for silent guidance. I don't respond, simply continuing to slide up and down Nick's cock and moaning while doing so.

"Hey, princess," Mike says firmer, pounding on the door again. "Think you can stop Oh-ing Canada and come talk to me like a fucking adult?"

I don't stop, grinding harder against Nick's base. My hands find my clit, rubbing it as I respond.

"I told you you were welcome to join us," I moan. Nick looks at me like I've gone utterly insane, and maybe I have. Maybe I'm completely delusional about all of this, but I couldn't care less as I feel my dripping cunt tighten to the point even Nick doesn't care what happens so long as he comes inside of me.

"Mi-Nick," I moan. "Mi-ne, mi-ne." Come on, Schmidt. Catch the fucking hint.

All night I had been plauged with dreams about Michael fucking Schmidt. I'd noticed when we met he was attractive to me. I liked his hands, his stubble. God, his shoulders made me think things that will probably send me straight to Hell. But hate usually kept these thoughts at bay. Last night however, the dreams wouldn't stop coming. Over and over, a new fantasy of him emerged in my head. Him underneath of me as a writing mess, him begging for more, my tits in his mouth as he finished inside me. It was depraved. I wanted it.

The door bursts open just as Nick is finishing inside of me. It's the look in Mike's eyes that causes me to finish, all while keeping eye contact with him as well.

Nick is quick to flip me on my back, covering my body haphazardly with a blanket prattling excuse after excuse. Apparently we're sorry. Apparently we had gotten too wrapped up in the moment because apparently, you know how it is, right man?

But it doesn't matter. Mike isn't looking at Nick, who's pulling on his shirt above me. Mike's looking at me, watching my fingers that trail gently along my areolas, flicking lightly at my hardened nipples and clearly longing for more.

"Mike wouldn't know the first thing about pleasing a woman," I say with little thought.

"Oh?" Both of them ask me.

"I think you should leave, Nick. Mike and I are going to have a little talk, and I don't want you to see how ugly this may get," I say without breaking eye contact with Mike.

The sudden shift in the air is not subtle, so maybe that's why Nick doesn't really hesitate to listen to me.

"I'll call you later," he says as he stumbles past Mike.

"Don't bother," Mike calls after him. Mike slams the bedroom door shut, locking it before turning to me and raising an eyebrow.

"Is there something you'd like to say to me?" Mike asks, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms as his stands tall.

My hand dips to between my thighs where Nick and I's cum pools out, coating me in the thick stuff.

"Sorry," I say in a spoiled tone, smiling.

Mike's eyes scan my entire body. From the hickies coating my neck, to my breasts and even my thighs, I can see a new wave of anger washes over him. At least, it looks like anger. There's something else mixed with it too, something I desperately want to play with.

"You're not sorry for shit," he says. He's correct.

"I told you last night, I like fucking people," I say as my fingers circle my clit.

Mike's jaw tightens. "You like fucking people," he repeats.

I can see him grind his teeth. He's silent for another moment. "And do you like... him?"

I giggle. "You tell me," I say with a soft and low voice.

His eyebrows twitch. "You're still... going?" He asks with an unsure edge to his voice.

"Yes, Michael. This is what a woman looks like when she's turned on," I say in a mocking tone, batting my lashes as my fingers dip into my entrance. "Would you like to try?"

He steps closer, bending down ever so slightly to stand over me.

"Don't call me that," he says in a low growl.

"Make me," I taunt.

He blinks.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

A startled yelp escapes me as Mike grabs my hips, dragging me roughly to the edge of the bed. He spreads my legs, stepping between them and slips his rough thumb inside of me with no hesitation.

"Fuck. You do like him," he groans, his other hand fiddling with his belt. I can see how hard he is underneath his jeans, his fingers clumsy but working quickly at the items covering him.

"He's oka-ay," I say quickly, my voice trailing off into a soft moan. His thumb explores the inside of my cunt, probing the wet muscle and massaging inside of me spots a man had never taken time to look for before. "Your finger's thick," I moan.

Mike chuckles, freeing himself and pumping into his hand slowly as he presses his thumb deeper inside of me.

"You told Nick he was thick too," he says. "That just your line with guys?"

It is, but this time I actually mean it. So I shake my head. "No," I say quietly.

"I don't believe you," Mike says. He slips his thumb out of me, making me clench around nothing. I open my mouth to protest only for Mike to quickly shove his thumb into my mouth, touching the back of my throat while he sinks his cock into me.

"Go on, pretty girl," he moans. "Take it like the proud whore you are."

I gag around his thumb, both from the sudden intrusion and from the taste. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't like this, if I said that his actions didn't make me even more wet and that I didn't suck his thumb greedily, wrapping my tongue around it and sucking it clean until I can only taste his rough flesh. I swear it makes his dick twitch.

His cock slides in and out of me with ease, taking his time to feel how I wrap around him.

"Fuck," he drawls. "It's been awhile."

I moan around his thumb, running my tongue along the underside and trying to rock my hips against him to tell him to speed up. Instead, he presses a hand down on my lower stomach, pinning me down as he sinks in fully. At first glance his size is average, but inside of me it's overstimulating how he fills me just a little too much.

His thumb presses further into my throat, making me gag as he tilts his head back in pleasure.

"You are just demanding. Do you know that?" He asks. I try to respond, but he simply presses his thumb against a spot that makes me gag once more.

"Nothing's good enough for you. Not even Nick. You didn't even cum until I came in here," he laughed cruelly, looking down at where we connect. His other thumb trails down to rub my clit slowly, making me writhe underneath him and clench around his still cock.

"Never shutting up. Till now. I like it when you're quiet, princess. Makes you easier to swallow." He presses deeper inside of me, making me whine in overstimulation.

"You're mine now," he says, slowly pulling out. "You can call Nick all you want. Call him, fuck him. But we both know he's not gonna make you cum like I will." Just his tip remains in me, barely staying in before he slams back into me so hard I scream.

"So what's the point?" Mike asks, slowly slipping out once more. "Do you like pitting men against each other like that?" He slams back into me. My eyes water, but I don't protest.

This time when he pulls back, he stays there. I wait for him, trying to he patient. But then he removes his thumb and wraps his hand around his length instead.

"What?" I ask, my voice raw.

"Say it," Mike says as he jerks himself off slowly.

"Say what?" I ask.

"I'm not gonna fuck you like you want unless you say you're mine," he says casually. His tip is bright red and leaking precum, his length coated in Nick and I's milky cum.

"Fuck you," I say. Mike just laughs.

"You're the one laying here crying over some dick," he taunts. "I just want to make sure we're on the same page here, princess."

I try to hold strong, I really do. It'd be more fun if I did. But fuck. The way he stands over me, his shoulders broad. I could never deny I liked the sight of his hands either, and seeing them tug as his pulsing cock while he stared down at me with that stupid fucking smile?

It's not fair.

"I'm yours," I say quietly.

"Hmm?" Mike asks, pumping his dick quicker now. I can see how hard his veins are, and the sounds of him fucking his own hand make me want him more.

"Yours," I repeat slightly louder.

"Use proper English," he says. His face has this stupid blissful look on it, his mouth slightly open as he pants, fucking himself and watching me as he does.

"I am yours," I hiss through gritted teeth. It doesn't even take a full second before he's buried in me once more, his hands pinning my knees to my shoulders and fucking me with enough speed I'm genuinely scared he'll hurt me. And I love it.

"I'm going to make you mine," he grins, his voice suddenly turning feral.

"I'm going to make you mine so much that you won't even be able to remember what Nick's name is, let alone what he looks like. Or what he feels like."

"Uh huh," I whine. My voice is so unusually high and ragged, my mouth slack and eyes rolling back in pleasure. I rock against his hips, trying to find my second edge. I'm babbling, whether I'm asking for mercy or more is anyone's guess.

He laughs at me, and it's a harsh and cruel laugh - not at all like the usual sarcasm and mockery he displays. Instead, his laugh comes from a place that is raw and angry and vicious, the kind of laugh a wolf makes when he's about to go for the kill.

"What's the matter?" he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm and mocking. "Not quite the big, bad man that he's made you think he was, is he? How disappointing," he continues, his hips thrusting into me repeatedly.

I cry loudly with each new thrust. His movements are cruel, borderline abusive. Christ, I love it.

"Bigger," I whine. "Bigger."

He teeth nip at my throat, sinking in hard enough I'll be wearing sweaters and scarves for weeks. Makeup won't touch the color.

"Bigger?" He asks in a mocking voice. "What's bigger?"

"You're bigger," I moan. My voice is broken, and there's no way the neighbors don't hear the degeneracy occurring around them. Sorry, Mrs. Jones.

"What are you going for?" he snaps, his eyes narrowing and his voice growing more and more vicious. "Big bad Mike?" he giggles, his grip tightening on my ankles as he continues plunging into me.

A loud scream escapes me as Mike finds my g spot. He doesn't relent, focusing on the spot and abusing it while I sob and try to wiggle away, completely overstimulated from pleasure and unable to handle it.

His hands pin me against him, trapping me where I am and forcing me to take him however he wants me to.

"You want more?" he asks, taking one hand away from my ankles, grabbing and pulling my hair harshly, forcing me to stare into his eyes. His pupils are so blown out I can't even see his pretty hazel irises. They're dark and predatory, his breath hot and heavy with rage.

"Is that what you want?" he asks, pulling back and plunging into my aching cunt again.

"Yes!" It's a violent scream that escapes me, feeling myself begin to tip over the edge. His eyes sparkle, his lips in a smile that shows he knows he's won.

"And what would Nick say if he could see you like this? All mine, all mine..." he taunts.

"Huh?" I'm completely stupid, my body coming undone so suddenly around his dick with cries, screams, whimpers and everything inbetween. Nick was foreplay and I've no mental energy to remember any detail that isn't Mike's.

"Don't even know his name?" Mike laughs. "You can't even remember his name, can you?" he grins, his eyes narrow again as he tugs my hair and shoves himself in further.

"Uh uh," I pant in a high voice. My body shakes terribly, his pounding length already edging me once more as he continues abusing my spot. How on earth am I supposed to walk after this?

"Then let me help you remember his name," he says. "Say his name."

"Mike," I moan pathetically. I'm right back on that edge, crying and feeling as though I'll burst from overstimulation.

"Louder," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm and mocking. "Say it louder. Say his name loud enough for him to hear you."

"Mike!" I scream it religiously as I come undone a second time, gripping him to the point I can feel how close he is too. I hear him laugh above me, his other hand now wrapping around my throat and choking me slightly.

"That's my name," he says with mocking gentleness. "Say his name or I won't finish."

"I don't remember," I sob. Jesus Christ, do I have problems? "Just want you!"

His face glows, his lips split into a wide grin of satisfaction.

"So you want me, do you, princess?"

I nod pathetically. He's throbbing, slamming into me hard enough it may draw a third climax in a row.

His laugh is cruel above me, his lips landing on top of mine in a wet, possessive kiss. His tongue fills my mouth, forcing me to take him as the sounds of him fucking me like a depraved animal makes me whine in desperation.

He pulls away, a long string of spit between us connecting our lips.

"Then I'll give you what you want, princess," he says. "But there's a price."

"Uh huh," I agree. My eyes roll back as my body twitches, barely able to focus as he thrusts into me.

"Look at me," he says patiently, tugging my hair once more. When I manage to remember how, he let's out a long 'aw,' smiling down at me with false sweetness as I stare dumbly into his eyes. I suppose I'm staring into his eyes. God, I'm stupid.

His thumb grazes my jaw, tutting as he examines my face closely.

"Your eyes are pretty...*" he says, his voice sweet and tender, almost like I've made him soft and vulnerable, but his cock pounding into me causes the beginning of a headache that won't let me forget how much we hate each other. "Your eyes are pretty, your mouth is pretty..."

I lick my lips and nod lightly.

"You are just such a pretty girl, aren't you?" He asks. I nod, my body twitching uselessly as my third climax washes over me.

"Good girl," he praises. "All fucked out over me. That's good."

Suddenly and without warning, he pulls out quickly and shoves my face down close to his cock, coming all over my face. It's thick and everywhere. In my hair, my mouth. I can't even open my eyes.

"Stay like that," Mike commands as he lays me on my back. His softening cock reenters me and pumps lazily, his purpose to make sure he's fully emptied.

"Any new thoughts?" He asks me in a strange tone, light and amused. I simply moan, relishing the moment. He chuckles and spreads my legs so he can better see what is happening between us. It isn't until I hear the chime of his camera confirming a recording that I realize what he's done.

"Mike?" I ask, barely able to think straight.

A low laugh escapes him, cruel but warm.

"I want to show your new boyfriend the real you," he says. "Make sure we're all on the same page here, right?

...Fuck me, I have problems.

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

Thanks for reading, pookies. See y'all in hell.

Masterlist

[songmingisthighs]

Temptation Touched My Tongue

group : txt

pairing : perv devil!soobin × reader

genre : fantasy, smut

wc : 3.5 k

warning : explicit smut, unprotected sex (nopity nope), pervert behaviour (peeping), masturbation (f), unrealistic depiction of sex ???, soobin is desperate and depraved idk he's nasty but he couldn't help himself :(, dubcon (??), monster cock!soobin, i do not know how to label this shit because i suck at labeling and i do nawt know what this crap falls under. possessiveness?, toxic idea of 'belonging', a wee bit blood ?? (nothing major like the shinning's elevator scene, it's literally a bite to the lip). idk anymore man

a/n : i need to stop starting new shit at 3 am and just get the fuck to sleep

buy me coffee ?

The night was amazing.

You finally went out on a date with the cute guy you met at a library. And when he dropped you off back home, not only did he promise to call you and set up a next date, but he also kissed you. Choi Soobin was beyond your expectations. Outside, he looked soft and kind but his mouth. Damn his talented mouth, especially his tongue. It surprised you how his tongue felt like warm honey that melted when it tangled with yours and you swore you tasted sweetness as you two kissed.

Choi Soobin affected you so much from his kiss that you now found yourself on your bed, legs spread wide open with your finger furiously rubbing your clit.

"F-fuck," you moaned as you flick your bundle of nerve, making your thighs tremble as your muscles tighten. As you continue pleasuring yourself to the thought of Soobin and his talented tongue in your cunt, pleasuring you which hopefully would pleasure him too. The sounds you were making were loud and obscene but you lived alone so no one would complain about your obnoxious moans this late nor did you have to worry about anyone barging into your room to see you bare naked. Honestly, you were rather embarrassed that you were pleasuring yourself to the thought of your date, you couldn't even bring yourself to turn the lights in your room on. But what were you supposed to do? Since the kiss, your body was burning up and you just had this urge and Soobin's name repeated over and over in your head along with explicit imaginations. Specifically over his cock. You wondered about his cock, what it feels like and how it looks. The thoughts just kept pouring in but you can't stop, your body couldn't stop your desire for Soobin and it was pathetic, you felt disgusting. Tears began pooling in your eyes, blurring your vision. Which was unfortunate because you would've been able to see the man outside your window panting like a dog, eyes glued to your glistening cunt as his hand grabbed onto his cock from his trousers.

Soobin knew he targeted the right person when he saw just how pretty you looked with the remnants of tear that glittered in the moonlight and the flush on your skin that made you look adorable. Plus, as a devil (literally), he could feel how hot your body was for him. He knew that you were thinking about him, imagining him doing things to you, but he couldn't do anything until you gave him verbal consent. You have to call out for him even just a tiny bit and Soobin hoped to listen to you call for him, acknowledge your want for him so he could have his way with you. All of the ways he could think of.

"Baby, baby please," he moaned, hands pressing against the window next to his warm cheek. Soobin let his tongue loll out, allowing his pants to fog up the cold window. "Baby, I want you, please I need to have you, I need to taste you," he begged, fingernails scratching the surface of the glass hard enough that streaks appeared in their wake as the devil drag his fingers down like a cat trying to claw his way in. The bulge in Soobin's pants was starting to hurt but the pain just drove his desire for you even more. It was as if his confines were a reminder that without you, his release seemed pointless, futile even because it wasn't you. For him, it's you or no one whatsoever.

Just as Soobin was about to make his presence more known (despite how risky it is in case you rejected him), he saw your legs clamp shut and your body arching beautifully. Soobin was truly mesmerized by the way you looked, his jaw was dropping in amazement. He could only imagine how you would feel as you cum, cunt clenching on his cock with a vice grip. Soobin started to get dizzy with possibilities because he was seeing you cumming before his eyes. Oh how he wanted to lick your slick away, remove the trail it created and replace it with a trail of his spit. He wanted to make you his officially.

And then it came. The moment Soobin has been waiting for.

"Soobin, fuck, please, I want your cock in me," You whimpered, letting some tear drop from your eyes.

For a moment, Soobin's breath caught in his throat (not that he needed to breathe, it was just a habit at this point), unable to move as he was too surprised to process what he had just heard. Then he felt it, he felt the pull that was planted by the temptation that had taken over your body, the very driving force that caused you to need to masturbate to the thought of Soobin. The same temptation he ever so gently placed on your tongue, the sweetness of sin that you succumbed to.

"Finally."

Without wasting a second, Soobin made himself appear in your room, completely naked with only his glowing orbs made completely visible in the darkness.

You were trying to catch your breath as you contemplated why the fire within you hadn't died down. There was a slight relief when you managed to make yourself cum but for some reason, the desire only doubled. "Fuck, I need something," you grunted, sitting up on your bed to calm yourself down slightly so you could hopefully walk out of your room to grab a glass of water without needing to rub one out again. But when your eyes focused on the objects in your room, you gasped when you saw the silhouette of a tall man standing in the shadow of your room. "What the hell!?" You screeched, grabbing your blanket haphazardly from between your legs to hopefully cover your breasts and cunt that was still leaking arousal. "Get out of my room!" you told the person, pointing at the direction of your front door. For some reason, your words sounded half-hearted even to you. The man looked very familiar even though it was just his silhouette and you knew you should be afraid of his glowing eyes, but you couldn't find it in you to actually be afraid. If anything, you were drawn to them. The more you looked straight at them, you more you could make out the golden specs.

The figure chuckled darkly, effectively breaking your train of thought. "Oh honey, my sweet sweet dumb girl, how could you tell the person you just thought of as you made yourself come to go away?" To say that you were surprised when the man stepped out of the shadows into the moonlight was an understatement. Your mouth hung open to protest, ask if it was really Soobin, contemplate if that was the same Soobin who you just went on a date with, tell him that you think it was a dream, anything. But you can't seem to say anything. It was as if your mouth wasn't cooperating with your brain. You weren't sure what you were looking at exactly because you were still trying to figure out why your date is in your room. Then you accidentally looked lower, straight to his monster cock that's standing upright. The tip reached his belly button and God you wanted it in your mouth. In your pussy. You want to be the one who made it cum.

Soobin felt his chest swell with pride from the way your eyes were hungrily staring at his cock. Be it his influence or your own desire for him, Soobing felt his dick twitch when the hand that was holding your blanket up to shield your nakedness from him lowered to reveal your breasts before it dropped completely to reveal your clenching cunt and parting legs as if inviting him to nestle there. A smirk bloomed on Soobin's face and he couldn't help but start pumping his dick, coaxing pearly white liquid to leak from his slit. Your tongue darted out automatically as if wanting a taste and your hips rolled upwards. The movement somehow made your arousal become more prominent on Soobin's nose. He could smell how needy you were and he loved it because it was him doing that to you, there was nothing else in your head other than him and the need for him to fuck you silly with his big cock.

"Didn't you say you want my cock? This cock?" When Soobin dropped to his knees on the bed in front of you, you instinctively sat up straighter and your knees bent a little higher. "Good girl, you're presenting yourself so well for me," Soobin smiled. The sight of him smiling at you was so ethereal, he looked like an angel but his words held nothing but the promise of sinful pleasure. The dichotomy of this man was thrilling, it left you wanting more before anything could even happen. How was that even possible?

"Is that where you want me to bury my cock in? Your dripping pussy?" he mocked, causing you to whimper in shame as you tried to close your legs, suddenly hyper-aware that your cunt was free for him to see. This displeased Soobin however. He let out a disapproving growl that was way louder than you expected, the vibration shot right through your pussy, and you couldn't help but clench. Easily, Soobin grabbed hold of one of your legs and pulled you closer to him, "Did I tell you to cover what's mine?" his angelic smile was replaced by a disdained scowl almost immediately. "N-no," you squeaked out. Again, as if it was a light switch, Soobin's expression changed to a more pleased one when he heard your reply. "At least my baby knows to respond to me. You're so good for me aren't you baby? You're made for me, that cunt is made for me," he said as he dropped to all fours and placed himself right above you.

Soobin could feel your breath hitch the moment his face came close to you. He was addicted to the way you shied away due to his size, both body and cock. Especially his cock. The memory of you eyeing his bobbing cock will forever be engraved in his mind. Despite the very sexual position you both were in, you somehow managed to maintain such an innocent stature at the sight of his cock lining above you, giving you a rough estimation of how far he would reach. Truly, if that moment was real and not a dream like you thought it was, you would need to receive medical attention come morning because he was definitely going to rearrange your gut.

Gently, Soobin cupped the side of your face and he let his thumb trace your bottom lip gently, "Will you let me fuck you now? Will you let me use my cock to pleasure you and then cum inside you to make you mine?" He asked with such genuine that it sounded more like a love confession than permission to fuck you. Your body tingled in excitement as your cunt fluttered at the thought of his cock splitting you open. Soobin's eyes watched your every movement, awaiting your response with much patience. Not that he minded anyway, he loved the sight of your tongue peeking from between your lips to wet the bottom lip slightly. To coax an answer out of you, Soobin even lowered his hips so his cock was resting on your cunt. You gasped when you felt the hard appendage slip between your folds and started rubbing, nudging your sensitive clit every so often while fulfilling its mission to be completely covered in your arousal. The feeling was dizzying, there was a slight painful edge as you were still sensitive from your previous release, but the heaviness was heavenly.

"Fuck yes, Soobin, I want you to fuck me and then cum inside me. Make me yours," you moaned out.

That was all Soobin needed to draw his hips back and push into your pulsing hole. The size alone was overwhelming enough to accommodate, you hadn't realized that his length seemed never-ending. As Soobin continued pushing inside, you wondered where you got the confidence to even let him in you in the first place. "S-Soobin!" you whimpered, eyes shutting as your body tried to curl inwards but Soobin was having none of that, he wanted to see you as he get his whole cock inside you. With steady hands, Soobin pushed your body back by the shoulders. "You can do it, you're my good girl. MY good girl," he emphasized, wanting you to realize that as his good girl, you were going to receive everything he had to give you. It wasn't until your body started convulsing and your breasts pressed to his chest that he realized what was happening. Soobin stared at you with wide eyes and muscles clenching in response to your pussy clenching on his cock as you came on him hard. The suddenness of your orgasm caused Soobin to halt his pushing in order for him to witness you coming undone just from him trying to get himself inside you. Your nipples rolled against his smooth skin, inviting him to take hold of one breast in his large hand that immediately rolled one pebbled peak between his fingers expertly. The stimulation was so overwhelming that your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you didn't even realize that Soobin had taken advantage of your orgasm-hazed state and slick to push himself all the way until you felt him nudging your cervix. "Fuck, Soobin! S-so big, so g-good," you stuttered, hands finding their way to his back, scratching his fair skin as if to emphasize your fucked out state. The sting from the scratch was welcomed with a deep grunt from Soobin who closed his eyes as he paired the pain and the pleasure from how hard your pussy was gripping him. In his mind, it was proof that even your body didn't want him to go anywhere, it wanted him to stay nestled like that because you truly are his.

Your mouth hung open when Soobin started rolling his hips, pulling slightly back before pushing in again experimentally. You let out a long moan at the first snap of his hips which made Soobin chuckle, "Does it feel good, baby? Do I feel good? Am I filing you up?" Soobin knew the answer but he desperately wanted to hear it directly from you, he wanted to see you replying to him like the good girl you are. You nodded furiously at his question, "I-I can feel," you gasped loudly when Soobin hit a particular spot that made your knees snap around Soobin's slender waist, "I can feel you everywhere, Soobin!" Your hips rolled upwards to meet his hovering one as your hand dropped to begin a trail from where you and Soobin connected, "I can feel you in my pussy," your hand then moved up before it rested on your stomach, "And in my tummy," you moaned. It was barely anything, but the simple use of the word 'tummy' made Soobin exhale shakily, eyes blaring before he grabbed your knees and pushed them apart as high and as wide as they could go.

"Fuck, you're driving me crazy."

That was the last thing you remembered clearly before Soobin started pistoning inside you. If you thought you were loud when you were touching yourself, now you straight up sound like you were murdered. Well, you believe part of you was anyway. "S-Soobin!" You squealed loudly, hands now finding purchase on his wide shoulders. Soobin couldn't even respond to you as he was enjoying your cunt. He had a manic look on his face; a crazed smile with his tongue lolling from the side, drool dripping from his watering mouth to your skin, slobbering all over you like a dog at the sight of his favourite treat. Which technically was true, you were his favourite treat and he once again felt glad that he chose you.

The pace he was going was purely animalistic, a speed that can't be achieved by a human being and it was only then that you considered that Soobin might not be human at all. He was too perfect, too sinfully perfect to be just a human being but you couldn't seem to care, you couldn't find it in yourself to find it wrong if he was indeed not a human being. In fact, the mere thought got you chasing his lips, frantically pulling him down so your lips could meld together. It was the sloppiest sex you've ever had but you didn't mind, you couldn't seem to mind. Not even when you heard your dripping pussy squelch or felt spit run down your chin, especially not when Soobin hit that one spot that got you seeing stars and toes curl. The sudden hit caused you to bite down on Soobin's bottom lip, drawing a bit of blood that you instinctively licked away. If Soobin wasn't whipped for you before, he was definitely beyond whipped for you now.

It didn't take much for the tension to build back up in your body, a sign of your oncoming orgasm. Above anything, it was rather understandable that you would be cumming once again so quick as you had orgasmed two times before. But you still felt embarrassed that it came so quickly. So you detached your lips from Soobin and looked away with your eyes shut, willing yourself to not cum just this. Unbeknownst to you, Soobin didn't like you separating from him if he didn't initiate it because he knew if he initiated it, it was because he wanted to do something more. So he sat back on his heels, the movement made him pull his cock away slightly which managed to jolt you up in surprise. You saw the scowl on his face and before you could even ask him what was happening, he had expertly flipped you over on your stomach without pulling out before resuming his abuse on your cunt.

"How dare you pull away from me! You, who was thinking over me while you were touching yourself," he growled menacingly. You couldn't see his face but you felt how displeased he was simply by how he was treating you. "I'm sorry Soobin, I-" You couldn't even let him know why you pulled away because Soobin had slapped you on the ass harshly that you were sure you'd feel it when you sit down the next day. "I don't need your pathetic excuse," he scoffed as he shifted your legs into a position he wanted, "Remember that you're mine, baby, you don't get to do things your way anymore," you could practically hear the smirk on Soobin's voice and frankly you found it hot. He had managed to slip your right leg between his legs as your left leg was bent to the side with his left knee anchoring under it. "I'll make you not forget that you're mine," he said as he grabbed your arms and used them as anchors on both sides of your head.

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[dontbelasagnax]

*curling like a cat against your ankles* Lasaganie, more Codywan headcanons?? 🥺👉👈 (only if you gave them/want to share of course. thank you, you’re amazing and I love you :3c)

I am late but I come bearing gifts in the shape of the codywan headcanons you asked for!!! And I love you too 🫶

- In a no order 66 setting, Obi-Wan has a caf mug that he considers to be Cody's. This would be normal except Obi-Wan bought it during the war and always meant to find the occasion to give it to him but never got around to it. That's to say he's exceedingly normal about this cup. Especially when Cody starts spending time around his apartment and Obi-Wan serves him caf in it. For the first time. Then all the other times as well. Feeling his heart crack open seeing Cody with His Designated Mug. A mug Obi-Wan's perhaps had too much time to place too much sentimental value onto. He's perfectly normal about it and doesn't act weird at all.

(more headcanons under the cut. it's a bit long)

- Cody is a hopeless romantic but won't ever admit it. He loves romance novels and holofilms. From trashy to highly acclaimed, sweet to stuffed with depravity, he enjoys them all. They're just a spot of escapism for him. A fantastical tale to distract himself from the toll of war when the night cycle is quiet and grief is loud. The stories are all so wildly outlandishly unrealistic to him. He's a clone. There's no future for him outside his role in the war effort.

And then one fateful campaign they're on their feet for a full tenday before they encounter an outcropping with flora and fauna that, finally, aren't actively trying to kill them and they are able to set up a tentative base of operation while planetside.

General Kenobi insists everyone rest while they can. Cody lost his bedroll to some sort of carnivorous plant along the way. General Kenobi acts like it's an affront to his very livelihood when Cody tries to sleep on the ground of their shared tent. Cody is tired. He doesn't have the energy to fight back on something so stupid. Which means they have to share a bedroll. His general's bedroll. Where they're physically incapable of both laying on the little mat unless they're plastered together. Cuddling.

It's the best sleep of his life.

...Exactly like how the romance novels describe it.

He's not dumb. He's been aware that he's in love with his general. He just thought the romance novels were all embellishing to a ridiculous degree and none of it was actually... realistic.

But if the romance novels are right about this, what else is just as magical in reality?

And maybe, just maybe, could there be some hope for a glimmer of a chance for him to pursue something else with Obi-Wan after the war, if they both make it that far?

- I am fully of the belief that, in a Tatooine husbands setting, the husband bit is a complete accident. Ben is stopping by for a quick pantry restock at the Pica Oaisis marketplace when it happens. He's lived at his hut long enough for the vendors here to have a familiarity with him so it's not exactly a surprise when one says to him, "Who's the shadow of a fella that's hangin' with you lately?" They mean well, he knows. And still, it's his business. He thinks his answer is quite crafty.

He says, "He's my partner," and leaves it at that. Partner could mean anything. Alas, either an older man living in an isolated hut with another older man implies a particular thing about their relationship or the vendors have a flair for the romantic because he quickly comes to discover on his next trips to the marketplace that he has a husband. Of all the assumptions one could make, it's certainly the most harmless and... he finds he likes it. Being seen as Cody's husband. It's all awfully embarrassing and he doesn't dare tell Cody any of it.

Cody discovers it for himself a few weeks later on a solo trip to the market to pick up some feed for Rooh.

"Here to do your husband's bidding?" a vendor asks and Cody blinks.

He blinks again. "Come again?" he says.

"Ben your husband; you're running his errand?"

His first instinct is to correct them, tell them he and Ben aren't married. But how would he even begin describe their relationship? After a few seconds deliberating he decides he's better off going with it. What harm could it do? Besides, on the ride home, he finds he kind of likes it.

And that's how they become husbands. Well, the beginning of it, anyhow.

[darlingdekarios]

soothe this soul.

RATING: mature [canon themes] — LENGTH: 2,976 — Gale x DarkUrge [gn!reader]

CONTENT: hurt/comfort, trauma, set during act I after the goblin camp before adventuring onward, fluff [gentle touching, hand holding], self-harm, Gale talking Durge through big feelings, canon-accurate dark urge memory loss, mentions of corpses/blood, no pronouns used but reader is described as having nails/claws

Gale offers you peace in a moment of darkness.

Quiet is what you needed tonight - you'd decided that hours ago, practically the moment the day had started. Still not managing to get a complete night of sleep and increasingly unable to silence the depraved thoughts in your mind, just an hour beside the water of this camp before the adventure continued on tomorrow would have done you some good.

At least that was the conclusion you'd come to for yourself. Fate seemed to have other plans for your time, however.

Or perhaps it was the will of one singular man.

“I have noticed you often skip over introductions…”

There was something soothing about his voice that even you were not immune too, his gentle nature balancing your violent one like cool waters on a raging flame. If it was going to be anyone interrupting your alone time now, it was befitting to be him, at least. If it had been anyone else, who knows what the consequences could've been.

“Please, not now.”

Your voice was marred with the kind of pain he was familiar with - ever-present, unignorable. Spoken through gritted teeth, your lack of patience was evident in every syllable. He'd never tell you he pitied you, but that didn't make the statement true.

“Forgive my insistence…” his dulcet tone filled your ears like the flow of a river, sustaining and forever. If his words could replace the urges perhaps some of your problems would subside. “But if not now, then when? We can all tell you’re avoiding something. Wyll and I agree that -“

“It is wonderful to hear I am the topic of camp gossip."

“It’s not like that,” you didn't know previously that one human could sound so believable - so honest. Though some of your other companions had taken him hiding his condition as a lie you never had, understanding his reasoning and trusting him through it all. You had no reason not to trust him now. “We care. For you. I care for you a great deal. I see how it…whatever it is…wounds you and festers at your soul each time we are somewhere new.”

“What is your point?”

The defense mechanism like a rose's thorns - if they didn't get close enough they couldn't be hurt, and your sharp demeanor was without a doubt a way of keeping everyone far enough away from you to keep their blood from spilling.

Gale, with increasing insistence of late, seemed determined to feel the softness you could offer too - he could see it in the depths of your eyes, just within his reach. He'd not stop until he earned the chance to be delicate with you.

“That I want to know you,” even now he was so delicate - had anyone ever been so with you before? “That I want to help.”

You could've drowned in the pools of sincerity in his eyes.

It had been hard to hide Alfira, and even harder since not to come clean to Gale - with each passing moment it was increasingly difficult to ignore the new urge that had formed within your being, a new desire that influenced your decisions. You craved something you were almost certain was new - connection - and you yearned for it with him.

Honesty was the first step - in these things, it always was. With Gale, you were fortunate to have seen in the darkness that festered within him when he allowed you a glimpse at the Orb, feeling the familiarity of a deep abyss. Though you were quite certain the darkness within you was much worse, much more primal and instinctual in ways he could never be, it was some comfort that he could look at you like this now - sweating, shaking, and neglecting to give his words a fitting response - and hardly bat an eye.

But how long would that be the case if you opted for complete honesty, and at this point could you even stop it? If allowing him to see into the void was inevitable, why deny what came closer with each tick of a clock?

A deep breath prepared your lungs for speaking truths into the night that you wished to keep buried in the depths of your wretched, dark heart.

“You've heard me introduce myself as The Dark Urge. That is all I can remember of myself. I crave murder and death and…corpses. Piles of my victims bruised and bloody displayed like a museum…crimson pools running warm then cold…"

Your words trailed as you clenched your eyelids tight, your nails beginning to dig into the tops of your thighs, seeking the focus that sharp pain would bring - so deep that blood quickly began to paint the tips of your fingers and your thighs.

You often felt Gale's bravery was to be commended, far more than it was by your companions. He'd never seen combat, never needed to face violence head on and take it for what it was. And yet, despite his inexperience he was still fearless with you, one of his gentle hands reaching out to lightly rest atop your shoulder.

Taken off guard your nails stopped their assault on your own skin, eyes wide as your puzzled face met his - patient, understanding, eyes soft and lips pressed into a thoughtful line as he awaited you to fully return to yourself.

"But though my mind is overrun with voids and seldom dreams up more than pools of blood…I want to be more than that. I think I am more than that…or that I once was, perhaps.”

It felt wrong to speak against the Urges, like you were lying to yourself and pretending to be someone your instincts proved you weren't, but it was the truth - it was you, no matter how deep within you had to pull it from. Gale, no stranger to darkness within and the chasm of emotions it could construct in one's heart, recognized how hard it must be for you to be vulnerable - after all, he had been in that very position merely days ago.

“I think you’re more than that already, despite everything. And if you disagree then we shall work together to make you see yourself the way I do."

Every sentence he spoke was saturated in a promise renewed with each word. You could feel the pull of your eyebrows coming together tighter, an expression that would do nothing to aid the headache that raged within your skull, but the only one your face could settle on as you pondered what you'd done to deserve such a kindness.

If you did even deserve it.

"I’ll help you. Through any urge along the way, say the word and I am at your side."

You remained utterly speechless under the power of his words, your expression still every bit as pained and puzzled than it had been when he first interrupted your time alone. What bravery it took - the same echoed now as his hand covered yours atop one of your thighs, the warmth seeping into you, wrapping you like a blanket during shock.

A quiet sigh passed your lips, defeated and communicating so much more than what your words could. A gentle squeeze to your hand, the softening of his eyes - you'd not be surprised if this was some sort of spell, if you didn't know better.

“I just don’t know how many more people I can introduce myself to this way,” as you finally met his eyes in full he was struck by the sight of tears sparkling in your eyes, the façade abandoned allowing him to hear the shake to your voice as your breathing picked up. “You apologized for your improper introduction, yet it is I who can’t even remember something as fundamental as my name. I know I have one, I can feel the echo of it in my mind…but it's just not there. Or perhaps I was a monster never deserving of one.”

For all of your companions' issues, Gale knew that what you faced was unlike anything any of them could relate to. Being unable to remember something as basic as your name and only experiencing your past in bloody glimpses of wicked memories - there was nothing he could say, so instead he listened.

"And I worry that I will hurt one of you," each word pained you more than the last, each one adding to the risk that he would leave - that he would come to his senses and see you for what you were. He certainly seemed to be trying, judging by the intensity with which he continued to gaze into your eyes. "That I'll hurt…you, Gale. I don't want to hurt you."

Sympathy - feelings of pity or sorrow for someone else's misfortune. You could see it filling his eyes as he squeezed your hand again, moving closer without hesitation so his free hand could raise to your face. He caught a freshly falling tear with his thumb, a delicate touch you recoiled from, your eyes wild with question and panic for a moment before they glazed over, warming under his touch though you remained so frozen you weren't breathing.

Sympathy was joined by patience and hope in his eyes, and he waited, hoping. Unimposing and unintimidating, free of judgment - willing to be so until you gave a sign to be anything otherwise.

A stiff nod was good enough.

His hand cupped your cheek fully, the feeling of your skin against his always enough to bring the softest of smiles to his face, no matter how fleeting it was. Cherishing the new feeling for a moment he did little more than that beyond the gentle stroke of his thumb across your cheek for several moments.

No monster he had read of melted so under the touch of a human - leaning into his touch further, you continued to prove he was right about you.

"We all have monsters inside of us. That doesn't mean it's who we are," admittedly, it was hard for even him to find the right words right now - particularly with his focus on you, the warmth of your skin against his hand, the way your jaw was unclenching and your features calming. A quick glance confirmed you no longer clutched your leg, and for a moment your hands were not shaking - because of him. "And it's not who I think you are. No matter what your name is, no matter who you once were: I see you."

A sentiment echoed in your mind - had you ever been cared for like this? Whatever the truth to that question was, you could feel how addicting it could be to be soothed by him.

“You must be tired,” it was a lazy - and obvious - interruption, a distraction from falling much further into his delicate grasp, parts of your mind still fighting against vulnerability, an instinct that had probably always been within you not to trust trying to set you on edge again. “I don’t want to keep you from rest.”

If he was aware of the hint you dropped in trying to return yourself to solitude, he opted to ignore it - not out of disrespect for your wishes but in hope you'd change your mind, hoping his presence could offer an enticing alternative.

If offering his presence to you would bring you any amount of comfort, he had to try. If it meant he'd have to bashfully ask Shadowheart for healing before sleep found him - so be it.

“Your company is well worth a little less sleep,” he desperately hoped you wouldn't mind that he was trying to lighten the mood - when your features curled into the slightest smile, he decided it was actually what you needed. Whatever you needed of him, whenever you needed it. How funny his very soul had adopted that new mantra so fast. “Or a lot, depending on the evening’s activities. I'd be grateful to enjoy your company a while longer, if mine isn't unwanted."

Your smile spread a bit more, cheeks heating up over his flirtations, your heart fluttering faster in your chest as you avoided his gaze briefly, taking the steady breath your lungs had been begging for, repeating it once more for measure. He matched the second with you - just another way to show he was here with you, supporting you.

Even still, you could only nod your response for fear of the words that may leave your mouth if you opened it.

The thing about Gale - the thing that made it more near impossible with each day he displayed it - was that as much as he loved to tell you what he could offer you he loved to show you even more, even if it meant sitting in complete silence for the next couple of hours. The time passed calmly with him beside you like this, offering you a pillar of strength to lean yourself upon in both a figurative and literal sense, his warm hold irresistible.

He accepted you leaning your head against his shoulder as quietly as you offered it, wordlessly deepening the embrace by wrapping an arm around you. If that was all that was offered you'd not hear a complaint from him, the gentle affection more than enough to fill his stomach with butterflies and heart with what he hesitated to call love.

When one of your hands lifted to rest on his thigh, the hesitation was gone. Love - at its most basic definition, an intense feeling of deep affection. How could he even attempt to describe the way he felt toward you with any other word, not yet finding one in the many books throughout his life that would describe the feeling nestled in his chest as sufficiently.

The sun sparkling against the water turned to stars dancing across its surface instead, the noise of your companions behind you fading as what was clearly hours passed. Your eyes had been closed for a while now, so long that you didn't notice - or at least didn't move - when Wyll had approached with food, unknowing that Gale silently waved him off.

There would be food in the morning, his stomach could wait if that was the sacrifice for your comfort. Comfort which he hated to disrupt - though after a while, the hard ground was far too unkind to his aching joints.

"Are you ready to try for some rest?"

Your eyes opened and you twisted your head to look behind you, at the very companions who were now settling onto their own bedrolls or into their tents for the night. Even in the dim light he could see the trepidation in your face, sense the tension thickening the air around you again.

How desperately he wished to resolve it, offering the only solution his heart could think of before his mind could catch up.

"Perhaps alone tonight…in my tent, beside me?"

The Wizard of Waterdeep blushed the moment the proposition left his mouth, and you'd fallen for him all over again. You nodded, and in that moment gave him everything he needed as a thank you from you.

You were both exhausted, so the motions of returning to Gale's tent blurred together - he stood first, offering his hand to you and pulling you to your feet, hand staying in yours as you walked through camp. He shot Astarion a look of warning when the Pale Elf raised his eyebrow when you walked past, entering Gale's tent without a word.

Explanations would certainly be expected in the morning, a fact made clear by the vampire's expression as Gale collected your bedroll before joining you in the solitude of his tent, closing the flap to separate the two of you for a while. Soon enough, you'd both found what felt at least a little like a word that made you both feel sick for profoundly different reasons - home - as you lay beside one another.

It was a longing gaze - you were desperate to hold his eyes in the hopes you'd see them tonight in your dreams rather than debauched things you hoped weren't memories, while he was desperate to memorize your face as he remained ever-aware of the looming apocalypse in his own chest.

A pair of your hands met between your bodies, his resting atop yours, calming the subtle and ever-present shake. Thumb brushing against your knuckles, he lulled you back into a subdued state, happily indulging you when you asked him to tell you a bedtime story from Waterdeep.

Though he spoke, he was the one to drift off first, blissfully so beside you. No matter how safe it felt to be beside Gale, no matter how much warmth filled every bone in your body - sleep would still avoid you for a while yet, and you'd be left with your thoughts and his sleeping form.

As the night continued to grow darker, as would your heart — if you even had one — and mind. It was dangerous to tempt nature like this, a steak dangled on a stick before a wolf. He would make the prettiest corpse - his own blood would paint his skin like the fine canvas it was and you'd view it as the exhibit it was, art in a museum entirely curated for you. How beautiful he would look, how sublime, how utterly delicious…

Ultimately, the urge to see him lying beneath you as a beautiful, wide-eyed body was quieter than the urge to see his eyes honey in the fire and the tousle of his morning hair as he passed you breakfast, expression eager to see your reaction to a meal prepared by him. You'd sooner remove your own hands before you used them to hurt him.

Seeing his chest rise and fall as he slept tonight and hearing the ring of his laughter tomorrow was worth far more than anything your sick mind tried to force you to see.

masterlist. baldur's gate III masterlist.

[valentine-cafe]

for strawberry cupcake! | fem! reader

i.. i can take her strap, i can be a good girl for her, like, give me a chance please ma'am, one chance i can be the wife, i can take her last name, i will cook, i will clean, i will match her freak, we can even scissors anything for her! she can even choke me with her thighs while i eat her out and i'll thank her because goddamn, if that woman told me to bark or meow i will, please let me worship her

i am not above the temptation of flesh, if she want to roleplay of one of us receiving while the other is sleeping, i would, without hesitation, because goddamn, how could one could be so gorgeous while sleeping? how did i end up pulling an angel like her fr fr

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ verse 9819 denara

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍮 ꒱ sorcerer x fem!reader, healer x fem!reader ⊹ ۪ ࣪

you and denny switch from hopeless, fluffy romantics to the most depraved of freaks. it’s such a whiplash, one that you adore oh so much.

one moment, the both of you are cuddling on the sofa. giggling and tittering about some random occurrence during the day —

and the next you are are sprawled back against the cushions. her dark nails digging into your thighs and her elongated tongue fucking into your slit. or her deep red lips wrapped around your clit and suckling so earnestly while you tug on her hair and whine that you’ll come.

it can switch from the both of you out and about. hand in hand while you look for a place to eat. snacks? ice cream? whichever it is, as long as you’re both together and she can cling onto your arms -

but oh do you love the way that she clings to you when you push her into one of the bathrooms. a hand clamped around her lips so that her big black eyes look at you with tears of pleasure while your finger her tight and squirting pussy. her whimpers muffled and her hips desperately bucking against yours. she loves whenever you just use her.

late night cuddles turning into her riding on your thighs once you’ve falling asleep. waiting for you to wake up so that you can both grab onto the double-sided strap and grind against one another through the night until the both of you are whining and gasping into one another’s mouths. cumming all over each other in the most pitiful of ways.

denara is someone that has quite the sex drive - high stamina, high libido. so she’s down to do it whenever, for as long as you both possibly can.

she loves waking up to you between her legs. the sight of you looking up at her through her lashes as you great her good morning with your tongue fucking her slit and a squeeze to her plush thighs.

oh she would wrap them around your head so tightly. buck into your face and whimper the softest of praises. tell you how beautiful you always look in the morning.

scissoring is always so intense. especially with the way that she looks at you. as though you are her entire world. the way that her hands always try to grope and caress you. how she’s constantly trying to make you cum before her -

but she’s just so so sensitive. of course she always squirts before you. she’ll limp into the sheets and whine at the way that you tease her for it.

she’ll get you back later when she invades your dreams to have you all to herself. whether that be for the fluffiest cuddles and dream shenanigans or for fucking both of your brains out.

[woozisguitar]

GLITCH - a good plan

prev | 3.0 | next

masterlist

Recommended Song: Everything Has Changed by Taylor Swift

Warnings: some hate tweets, mentions of anxiety, overthinking and panic attacks.

A/N: this part has both smau + written (2.6k words, no beta)

Your flight landed 20 minutes before schedule. After a few long hours of constant turbulence and the crying of babies, you were more than happy to disembark. But a sudden realisation of where you were and wanted was going to happen once you got off this flight made your anxiety rise again. Since the article about the dating rumor came out, it was almost like your usual anxiety had increased tenfold, making you want to run back and hide every time you left your house. Ella tapped you on the shoulder to signal that the gates were opening. You decided to swallow your nerves for the sake of the group. 

“Let’s go before it starts to rush,"  Iseul called out from her seat in the next row with Ash, who was packing her things. 

The security checks and baggage claim took ages, but finally, you were able to leave the airport and take in a much-needed breath of fresh air. There, at Arrivals, you saw a man who looked like he would be in his late 30s, holding a placard with your name on it. You nudged Iseul and nodded towards the man to signal that he might be the guide? SEVENTEEN’s management mentioned. 

“Hi, I’m y/n,"  you said, bowing slightly. “Oh hello! Nice to meet you. I am Ahn Ha-Joon, but feel free to call me Mr.  Ahn," he said with a kind smile. “I hope you all had a great flight. I have a car waiting for us right outside. Please follow me.”

You all followed Mr. Ahn out of the airport, where the cool evening air greeted us. Ash and Ella looked around in excitement, but Iseul had a mix of nostalgia and fear on her face. Knowing her past, you gave her a small squeeze on the shoulder, and she glanced over in appreciation. 

“Mr. Ahn, can we stop somewhere to eat?” Ella asked once we were all seated in the car. 

“Well, it's pretty late right now, so most restaurants would be closed, but we can stop at a 24-hour convenience store. My apologies, but there isn't any food at your accommodations right now.” 

You heard Ash whisper-yell a small yay under her breath before she decided to go back to watching videos on her phone. After that, you decided to zone out on your drive there, imagining and overthinking every possible scenario. 

Sleep didn't come easily to you the whole night, while others slept soundly after the long flight. Ever since you became a fan, Woozi has held a special place in your heart. Be it through his words, his songs, or his smile. You would wait days, often checking your phone like a depraved girlfriend and scrambling to open every notification in case Woozi posted something new. As sad and pathetic as it sounds, this is your normal. You worked on codes, you spent time with your friends, and you fangirled. Everyone knew this. And frankly, your life felt full to some extent. You never had time for anything or anyone else. Every single person you met was compared to Woozi in every aspect, and you knew how fucked up it was. He is an idol, for heaven's sake! No normal person would be this obsessed with someone they don't even know in person, but this was you. You've always found it easy to love from a distance, never knowing that love can be so self-consuming and overwhelming that you might lose a part of yourself in the process. But it was almost like you were addicted. You cried when they cried, and you laughed when they laughed. You felt proud when they achieved something and disappointed when they lost. Iseul once mentioned how this feels like a curse. To love someone so ardently and vehemently even after knowing that you never ever, not even in a million lifetimes, had a chance with this person. And perhaps she was right, because look at the mess you are in right now. You never wanted this. For you, Jihoon was a silly fantasy. Like a prince who would come sweep you off your feet, riding a white horse into the sunset. But this, this was real life. There are no princes and princesses, and there are no white horses. Just the same old you, who is a student, and your idol, Woozi. These agonizing thoughts consumed your mind until you somehow drifted off to sleep. 

The next day, you woke up to Iseul and Mr. Ahn talking by the door. She nodded in agreement at something he said. 

“Get up, girls; we leave in an hour.”

“TIME TO MEET JUNNIE LET’S GO!!!!,” Ash yelled and leaped from her bed to go take a shower. 

“Well, at least someone’s happy about this,"  Ella chuckled slightly, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. 

Well, I guess here goes nothing…

The ride to the headquarters was silent. Everyone knew that this could potentially end badly. While the management assured me that they wouldn’t, they were still very powerful and strong and could change their minds in an instant. You could be sued and blacklisted, and honestly, none of you had that kind of money. 

“We’re here. We will be taking the backdoor because it's safer than the general entrance.”

The elevator ride to SEVENTEEN’s headquarters took forever. If this were under any other conditions, you would probably be elated to meet the people you have looked up to for so long. But right now, all you could do was try and calm your nerves so that you wouldn't go into a panic attack in front of your idols. Well, at least Ella and Ash seemed excited as they were talking in hushed whispers, whereas Iseul seemed deep in thought. The elevator dinged, signaling that we had reached it, and Mr. Ahn led us through the various doors till we reached the one beyond which stood our fate, waiting to meet us. 

The first thing you noticed was how familiar this room felt. Having seen various videos of the group doing challenges in this same space, it felt surreal to stand in the same space. 

Then you heard Ash quietly squeal and cover it up with a cough, and Iseul took charge and introduced herself. 

Last, you saw him. 

Standing here casually as ever, with his black hair slightly longer than before, was Jihoon. He was wearing an all-black outfit, but it seemed like he made an effort to clean up a bit, as you noticed a slight contrast from his usual behind-the-scenes outfit. He had a bored expression on his face, but his eyes had a glint of curiosity as he kept scanning the group till they landed on you. And you, flustered as ever, averted your gaze and slightly bowed your head in greeting. 

“It's very lovely to meet you. Thank you all for all the support you have given us.” You heard a deep voice on your side to see Scoups greet your group. 

“Well, we'll get to introductions later! Ms. Lee is waiting for us in the meeting room.” Mr. Ahn interrupted and led us all towards another door at the back of the room. 

You tried to keep a low profile, almost shrinking into yourself. A very small, tiny part of you was excited to finally meet them, but a huge part was scared as to what would happen next. 

As you all settled in the meeting room, a lady in her late 20s entered and introduced herself as Ms. Lee. She claimed to be their publicist, handling all major events for all members, from scandals to photoshoots to everything. 

“I know this isn't the most ideal situation for either party, and frankly, none of us thought it would blow so out of proportion. I mean, almost every other fan pretends to date their idol. It's one of the foundation concepts in this industry, as much as we hate to accept that.”

The members nodded in agreement and understanding and wanted the ground to swallow you whole. All those stupif things you said on Twitter at 4 a.m. when you were overworked and tired are being referenced, and oh my god, I think I'm going to die. 

“Anyways, the main reason we called you here today, Ms. Y/N, was to discuss how we should handle this. As this ‘plan’ could possibly affect the whole group as well as your friends, it makes it more feasible to discuss it with all of you. So, my team has been working out numbers, and a rumor tweet hasn't generated this much interaction for SEVENTEEN in a while. And we think it might be a good idea to play into it.” 

Everyone around us leaned forward in curiosity as to how we would ‘play into it.’

“Ms. Y/N, we want you to date Mr. Woozi.”

Pin-fucking-drop silence. You were pretty sure everyone even stopped breathing for a second. 

“Umm, and how exactly was this a good idea?” asked Mingyu from his end, the first one among us to react in any way. 

“Well, they don't have to actually date but rather fake date. We spin a story about how they met and fell in love. And while we don't confirm or deny anything officially, we can hint at certain things. And for the next comeback, Mr. Woozi can write a love song as the title track, referring to Ms. Y/N. They keep up this ruse for a few days, and then they'll ‘break up’. And the only way to confirm this? The theme of the comeback after that would be heartbreak. That or Mr. Woozi can drop a solo whatever he wants. With this, everyone would be immersed in this love story between a fan and an idol, especially those who belong in an industry where parasocial relationships are one of the main pillars. Given the rise in Mr. Woozi's popularity lately, it makes more sense to fabricate a scandal involving him. Plus, it's human nature to want something you can't have.”

“And what does Y/N get out of this? I’m pretty sure you’ve seen all the hate comments and speculations on Y/N life treding all over Twitter. And if she agrees to this, she will be thrown deeper into this hate circle, so she should at least get something in return. The group gets their comeback theme, Woozi gets the popularity, and so what will Y/N get? And I hope you know that Woozi would get just as much hate as Y/N, so what are your plans on handling that?” Iseul spoke up from beside you with the same fire in her eyes she had when she knew she had finally cornered her opposition in the courtroom. 

The table fell into a murmured discussion, contemplating the pros and cons of this. Ms. Lee looked as if she had expected this. “Well, we plan on signing a six-month contract with Ms. Y/N at first, after which, depending on the reaction to the initial part of the plan, we might add another six months. And as for what Y/N gets? We compensate her for all the defamation, libel, and slander she faces. The amount can be discussed when we finalize the contract and get a lawyer for Ms. Y/N. As for the hate Mr. Woozi might receive, well, there's not much we can do unless we know what kind of hate we will receive.”

“I am Y/N’s lawyer; you can tell me the specifics.” Iseul spoke up again, surprising a few in the room. 

“And I’m sorry to interrupt, but you should really work on protecting your artists more. That being said, you also need to protect Y/N. By all means. Get her security, a car, and everything,” Ash spoke up, surprising you, as this was the most serious she had ever been since we commenced this trip. 

“Fine, fine, we will provide Ms. Y/N with all the security she needs. Any other questions?” Ms. Lee said, exasperated.

You saw Hoshi giving Ash a small thumbs up, and she nodded in return. 

"Yes, actually,” you said for the first time ever since this proportion was revealed, “I’m guessing I would have to move here temporarily in case I was to agree.” You continued as Ms. Lee nodded, “Well, that could be an issue because I can’t leave lab work or my graduation will be delayed. And all my equipment, my supervisor, and everything else are back home. Moving midway is a very bad idea.”

Ms. Lee seemed to think over this for a moment. “Well, that does sound like a problem. We can set up a lab for you to work in here at one of the universities we have good relations with and get you a local supervisor. We can also talk to your supervisor back home and get them on board with the idea. We will have to work out the specifics of this. Anything else? I am assuming your friends will stay with you, so we can work out something for their jobs as well.”

“I can tell my firm to put all cases on hold and make Y/N my primary client.”

“Well, I’m part of a dance crew, but it’s about time I took a break. And I suppose you can hook me up with some groups around here as well.”

The three of you looked at Ms. Lee expectantly. She sighed and nodded. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do. And you, Ms. Ash?”

“Hmm, I don't know if I can take a break for that long from the clinic. I guess I could say I’m taking a sabbatical or something. But you are going to refer me if anyone asks for a vet,” Ash said, crossing her fingers and placing her chin on it, looking innocently at Ms. Lee. She groaned and said, “Fine, fine, fine. Are Ms. Y/N you in or not?”

You looked over at Woozi, who was quiet this whole time. He seemed to be contemplating what he wanted, and you had an epiphany that Ms. Lee never once asked him if he agreed to this. He simply had to do whatever the company asked him to do. Your choice would affect not just you but him as well. And when your eyes met his, you saw doubt and fear swirling in them, similar to yours this morning. You decided you had to talk to him about this first before you made any choice. “Can I get some time to think about this? Maybe a day,” you said, slightly nodding at Woozi, hoping he’d understand what you meant. 

“Very well then,” Ms. Lee clapped. “You can let Mr. Ahn know whatever your decision is, and we can get started on the paperwork right away. Thank you all for today.” 

“Not going to lie, but that was the most frustrated we have ever seen Ms. Lee,” Vernon said once she left the room. 

“And compromising. She doesn't even listen or negotiate with me,” Jeonghan pointed out, surprised. 

The members and your friends decided it was best to spend some time together before they had to go for their practice. Amidst the chaos of introductions and questions, you decided it was the best time to corner Woozi and ask him if he was okay with this. You saw him standing at the back of the room, texting someone, as you approached him. 

“We need to talk.”

taglist: @toplinehyunjin @neo-moa @khhminimalist @theidontknowmehn @moose-1555 @kittyhui @ra1n7b33 @hamji-hae @miriamxsworld @khaos-sodivine @intoanothermind @ins4nebish

A/N: hope y'all liked this! this one took forever to finish and tbh I never planned on writing almost 2k words but oh well 😭 excited to hear your thoughts on this and reblogs are always appreciated! oh also! during y/n's inner monologue she keeps going back on forth between woozi and jihoon. that is so symbolise how she sometimes sees him as an idol and other times as this guy she likes. its super conflicting for her.

[celenawrites]

Note - This scenario contains dark content and NSFW parts.

Minors DNI.

Warning - Dark Content, Dubious Content, Stalker!Ghost and Stalker!Soap, Therapist!Reader, Nanny cams, Stalking, NSFW content,Voyeurism, Polyamory, characters may appear to be OOC (and I am sorry about that but I couldn't really resist this idea) etc.

Thinking about Simon Riley being discharged from the military after getting injured in action, and Soap taking leave in order to take care of him.

Johnny buys groceries, cooks for him, and drives him to his physical therapy sessions. Soap helps him stretch and care for his fractures, and he pretends that it's normal for his Lt. to wrap his arms around his waist as they sleep in the same bed. (Ghost's apartment is sparse at best, and Soap is lucky that he even has a bed to sleep on. If it were up to Simon, he'd probably sleep while on his legs - even when they're fractured.)

Soap who wakes up in the middle of the night to his Lieutenant reliving his mistakes on the field over and over again, the nightmare making him shake and sweat in his bed. Soap, who has to carefully wake him up and make him a hot cup of tea, knowing that after such a rough night, Riley won't be sleeping anytime soon.

Simon, who has a hard time expressing his gratitude to his Sergeant, but he can show it in more 'unconventional' ways. Simon, who needs to feel Johnny close to him in bed, in order to have a good night's sleep. Simon, who cannot help but imagine what a life with Soap would be like, if he were to retire from the military altogether. Simon, who feels his mouth dry a little, whenever he glances at even a sliver of Soap's exposed skin from his too-loose tank tops. (Summer has been brutal this time around, for some reason and Soap has been killing him with his tempting body, to be frank.)

Simon who's instructed by Price to go to therapy/get a psych eval before he re-joins the task force. Simon, who along with Soap, is forced to look through newspapers and online articles and reviews until he stumbles upon a therapist who specializes in veterans and is covered by his insurance, thank fuck.

Soap drives Simon to the therapist and even stays in the reception hall while Simon goes through a session, but by God is he distracted by how pretty his therapist is. You're just the most beautiful woman he had probably laid his eyes on in years, and he's pretty sure the filthy thoughts he has for you are totally inappropriate and only reserved for you and Soap. Simon has his dark eyes flutter shut and move around the room, trying his best not to ogle you but failing anyway as he notices your cleavage in your tight white blouse. He's aloof, and curt - if only to save you from the depravity that has consumed his brain.

He wonders how you'd react if he were to bend you over that office table of yours and fuck your brains out. You always look so stressed, you seem like you need it - need someone to take care of you the way you seem to be trying to 'take care' of him.

You're frustrated. You know that someone like Simon clearly has gone through hell, and you want to help him, but you're out of your depth regarding how to assist him. You almost refer him to a more experienced therapist, that is until Simon decides to show you a glimpse or two into his life - telling you about his mother and about Tommy, rarely would he be amenable to talking about his late father though. And you wouldn't force him to talk about things he doesn't wish to touch upon either.

He would sometimes talk about Johnny - 'a dear friend' of his who is helping him out during his recovery. He would sometimes get this almost fond look in his eyes, and you'd wonder how long it takes for Simon to realize that Johnny is more than a friend to him.

Simon talks briefly about his time in the military, almost all names and, places, and information are hidden for your safety. The first time he musters up the courage to talk about his father, he couldn't stop tapping his foot against the marble floor, his hands trembling as he recalls memories of his terrible childhood. Seeing the behemoth of a man

Simon, who finds himself falling deeper in love with Soap, and yet feels shame surrounding him at the prospect of his obsession with his sweet little therapist and her caring attitude. Simon, who wants to be happy just this once, and have the family that he so desperately craves and deserves after the shitty life he had to suffer through, decides to finally plan how to bring you and Johnny closer to him - creating a safe haven for all three of you.

You don't know that he has your phone tapped and that he has been able to track out your address (thanks to military connections). You barely pay attention to the stuffed toy on your vanity table, unaware of the nanny cam inside of it that allows Simon to spy on your every move. He's a gentleman, still. So he doesn't necessarily spy on you when you change into your clothes, or get out of the shower - wet and dripping, your soft body wrapped up in a towel. He definitely tries his best to ignore the hard boner he pops even at the slightest show of your skin.

Soap gets increasingly worried at the prospect of Simon regularly going to the therapist, and then disappearing into his study room for hours on end - barely speaking a word to him ever since he started taking therapy seriously.

On one such day, when Simon leaves for therapy on his own, he insists that Soap stays home and rests - he's been working so hard and clearly deserves to have a day to himself. In his hurry to meet you, the lieutenant leaves his study room unlocked and unguarded - and Johnny lets his curiosity get the best of him. 

Johnny spots the still-open laptop, and surfs through it all - his mind feeling a concoction of disgust, envy, and even awe as he notices how thorough Simon had been when it came to not only vetting you but also keeping eyes on you constantly through secretive means. The device has probably hundreds of hours of footage of you and to be honest, the more he snoops around, the more he can see why Ghost would go out of his way to do it. 

"She's perfect, ain't she?" Simon grumbles from behind him, and Johnny feels his heart fall to his stomach. He realizes that leaving the room unlocked was not a mistake, but rather an intentional move on his partner's behalf. 

The masked man claps his shoulder with his firm hand, egging him on to watch you relax in your office - leaning back into your leather armchair, your chest heaving as you close your eyes and relax before your next patient arrives. 

"Made for both of us", Simon goads him, and Johnny cannot find it in himself to disagree. 

Note -

I legitimately started typing this out while in class, got sick and stayed at home and finished it while I was supposed to be resting. Some of these ideas are too tempting to be left as just ideas, so I would probably try to give this one a chance. (I say this with every little blurb I pump out on my blog lol. Someone should stop me.)

[dadforker]

Now that I got this blog I'm thinkin about all the stuff someone with a tumblr would write about their dad.

The way he's kinda distant, but nice. Maybe you'd bond with him over small things like old movies you watched together, the type he used to watch when he was young. But he's older now, greyed- and so worn, still warm though and rough with a heartbreak smile in his truck, sturdy enough to bear the brunt of burden.

Would there be a desperation to keep you around? Like an ex boyfriend who keeps calling, asking if "Hey, remember that time we..." and the memories flood by the time you were away, but you're not so young anymore yourself, busied with things like a real life and real problems, not fucking your dad problems or worrying about if the old man on the subway next to you might give you a chance problems.

In rumbling roads and rasped out words, too awkward for the either of you in some push of sense, it's easy to see how lonesome he is without you, the smell of him fills the house- smoking indoors again when he said he wouldn't, yet there's not an empty bottle of beer astray- some kind of perverted consideration, you aren't any girlfriend to impress.

It's how in taking care of someone like this, the roles have reversed. Hands lightly clutch his shoulders in a stumble towards his room to follow hours later- TV still running its mouth distantly before you close the door, just stilled with the sounds of his breathing, your steps and the creak of the bed when you lay him down there to rest on his side.

He's handsome. Thick scruffy beard, rugged face, even when so tired and worn it looks kissable- your dad, shirt rolled up exposing messied fur across the valley of his stomach...you could imagine how it'd feel to run fingers through it, up across his chest in gentle groping to feel all the man of him and what made you.

It might end there, and you could sleep on the couch with some old movie playing in a mock of time lost, but you'd much rather prefer a sight between his legs, or rather the obstruction of it.

A rough calloused hand tousling your hair with insistent pushes down his thickness, untoward thickets of manly smell led by the trail downwards, and any shape of a vague obscurity would be drawn about in peeks of your memory of the barest hint of skin and of the wag he'd give in a shake of his fist, you'd lick your lips at ebbs of another kind of finish, reminders of how you'd ask questions about it and he'd just tell it like it is, all something inches of him, who his first was and just how into it he is when a girl does this and that.

"Hey buddy." He'd mumble all groggy, hand on the wall by the hallway as he shuffles in towards the kitchen. The hand in your pants is stilled, but you're out of view enough to try and remain calm and sensible- for any person jerking off about their dad. Any thoughts are absent clouds, a build up of heavy rain. He'd stand by the counter as if lost though, and you'd all but come up at the chance to guide him back- but he'd turn and give you this look.

One that tells you he's seeing you in the scenery of a thrown on blanket and couch cushions pushed back to make space, all in the dim light of what something AM thought whooshing in his head that has him taking that first step forward, then sitting on the couch next with that dip that has you shoulder to shoulder, a contagious heat in a world where blankets are suddenly too warm. Television so visible, in fact it's hard to keep your eyes off it. You don't know what you'd see if you turn, what kind of facsimile of expression to convince yourself he sees something in you the way you see something in him.

"It's late," and it is. "I should head back to bed," he'd say.

His arm slings across your shoulder though in a hug. He's still kinda sweaty, and in any case, his heavy breath and the silence only makes what part of depravity that's taken root in your mind begin to stir again. Just a little bit longer.

"Love you."

He pats your back with the same hand, trailing it down your back from your arm, the kind of gentleness a stranger to you. Not just friendly, but lingering and you're too scared to look at what his eyes are saying. That at his core he's just as tender as the waft of beer still on him, because it's only temporary.

"Good night, son."

[authorautumnbanks]

One Night (24)

Despite Utahime Iori’s better judgment, she finds herself seated in a spare dojo with her legs tucked underneath her and her phone in hand. She came here to mediate. None of the students come here, so it’s a great place for her to get away and gather her thoughts.

That was the plan.

“What am I doing?” She mutters, mindlessly scrolling through Gojo Satoru’s social media, of all things. It isn’t so much about him as it is curiosity about her.

Oh.

So that’s Higurashi Kagome. She’s beautiful. Utahime untucks her legs from underneath her and hunches over. This is the woman that drives the strongest crazy? Well, it probably doesn’t take much since there must be some screws loose in that idiot’s head, but what would make anyone want to settle down with Gojo Freaking Satoru?

He’s loud. Abrasive. Looks down on those weaker than him, so basically everyone, and he’s always late. There are no redeeming qualities about him. He’s as bad as Geto Suguru, just without the whole murder thing, but even that is flimsy.

Utahime presses her lips together. Higurashi-san looks kind, but maybe she’s as depraved as Gojo. Or maybe she doesn’t know how he truly is. He’s kept her hidden all this time like a dirty secret.

“There you are!” Mei Mei says, startling Utahime.

“Oh! Mei Mei, what are you doing here?” She slides the phone into her pocket and stands, dusting her pants off. “I was attempting to mediate, but I just can’t seem to focus.”

Mei Mei stops and cocks her head to the side. Her signature braid is gone, unraveled, though she’s wearing her normal uniform. “I had a meeting, but I’m in the mood for some tea and something sweet now. You can tell me what’s on your mind. I know the perfect spot.”

Today must be a series of bad calls because Utahime joins Mei Mei for tea and proceeds to spill everything that is bothering her. The cafe is busy, but they get a seat in the back.

Mei Mei purses her red lips together and leans back in the brown chair. Some new pop group plays over the speakers. “I think your dislike of Gojo is clouding your judgment.”

Utahime huffs. Of course, Mei Mei would say that. Gojo gives her a ton of yen to do who knows what. “No, I am being objective here. That poor woman doesn’t know who she is dealing with.”

“I’ve met her,” Mei Mei says, “and poor is not a word I would use to describe her. If anything, I would go as far as to say she holds the reins in that relationship. Gojo is quite smitten with her.” Mei Mei picks up the white cup and stares at the liquid. “Any person who can cause Gojo of all sorcerers to lose control is a force to be reckoned with.”

“But he kept her and their children hidden,” Utahime hisses. “Like they are some dirty secret, so he could continue doing whatever he wanted.”

Mei Mei sets the cup down and sighs. “You’re usually smarter than this,” she chastises. “Their oldest is only six and can do a domain expansion. Their youngest has the six eyes and limitless. There are bounties on their heads. Some have gone after them already now that their existence is known. You need to set aside your hatred for Gojo. He did what he had to do to protect his family.”

Utahime flushes pink, properly chastised. She wants to sink into the seat or the floor, but she keeps her composure. Is she wrong? Mei Mei doesn’t stick up for anyone. And surely she heard wrong about his oldest being able to pull off a domain expansion. That is absurd. “Do you think...” She leans forward and lowers her voice, “Do you think sex is really that great to cause blackouts?”

Mei Mei laughs. She wipes her eye with her finger. “Is that what this is about?” A few chuckles slip past her lips as she continues to wipe at her eyes. “Did you hate fuck Gojo when you were younger? You can tell me,” she teases. “All those years of him picking on you. Did it get to you?”

“No!” Is she out of her mind? There’s no chance in hell she would sleep with him.

“... Do you want to?”

Utahime squeaks. “Absolutely not!” She turns her head, mortified at the looks being thrown their way. “No, I don’t want him. I just don’t believe it can really be that good.”

Mei Mei leans forward and grabs her hand. “To be fair, Gojo is the strongest and Kagome-san is...” Mei Mei leans back. “She isn’t weak. I think you just need to find someone to crack that back. Someone that isn’t so nice.”

“What’s wrong with nice guys?” Utahime mutters. Is it so wrong to want it all? Surely there are nice men out there who will listen to her when she gets home and tell her everything is going to be okay. Someone polite and dependable. She sniffs. Sounds like Nanami-san to be honest, but he is also so stiff. She needs someone nice and not so stiff when it matters. There must be a man out there like that.

“They clearly aren’t doing it for you if you have to question if sex can really be that good.” Mei Mei reaches into her purse. “There is someone that wants to meet up with you. Tonight.”

Utahime narrows her eyes. She should have seen this coming when Mei Mei offered to pay for their drinks and pastries. “Please do not say Gojo Satoru.”

Mei Mei’s brows pinch together. “It’s for a date. Gojo would never want to meet up with you for something not jujutsu related.” She snorts, as though the idea is absurd.

Utahime bites her tongue. Not to stop herself from lashing out, but to distract herself from the pain in her chest. Her heart is cracking. Her self-esteem is in tatters. It’s not about Gojo. It’s Mei Mei’s tone.

It’s...

Okay. Fine. She’s jealous. Not because Higurashi-san is with Gojo, but because she is everything Utahime is not. She wants someone to look past the ugly scar on her face. Someone devoted to her. Men take one look at her and grimace with disgust just because of the scar on her face. It’s not as though she can just blurt out, she got hurt taking down a curse that Gojo had to exorcise for her because it was too much.

“Anyway, just keep an open mind... and you do owe me one,” Mei Mei continues.

Utahime freezes. Her back stiffens. Mei Mei is actually using the binding vow for a date? She should have never created one with Mei Mei, but she was young and didn’t know any better. “Are you serious?”

Mei Mei shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, I wasn’t planning on ever using it, but...” She pulls a card out of her purse and slides it across the table. “If you need a dress, then we can go shopping.”

Utahime picks up the card and frowns. “Who am I meeting? Do I know them?” The card has the time and address of the restaurant she is expected to meet this mystery man at. There’s nothing about a dress code or a name, or even a phone number.

“Naoya.”

The card falls from her fingertips. “Mei Mei—”

“Binding vow, remember. You could break it but...it’s just one date. You don’t have to marry the guy. And besides, he might surprise you.”

Surprise her? Utahime swallows and picks the card up from the floor. A date with Naoya? She touches the scar. Naoya wants to date her? He isn’t put off by the scar?

“Okay, you don’t—”

“I’ll go!”

“Wait, really?”

She nods and touches the scar again. “He’s not my ideal man, but I’m curious. Why me? He could have his pick, you know?” There are rumors that Naoya is the next Zenin head, and he is strong. Maybe not special grade strong, but Gojo Satoru is a monster, and no one should look up to him for guidance.

Mei Mei opens her mouth as though she wants to say something, but she closes it at the last second.

“What is it?”

“You grew up on a shrine, right?”

“Yes? What does that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing.” Mei Mei smiles. “He mentioned off-hand how much he liked your uniform.”

Utahime scrunches her nose. What a strange thing to like. “I need a dress.” She stands and pushes down the giddiness bubbling in her stomach. Naoya is younger than her and while she would prefer someone older, Naoya is accomplished. Maybe he isn’t that bad. If someone could love Gojo, then... Utahime smiles.

She’s got a hot date tonight.

Satoru sneezes and sneezes and then sneezes again. What the hell? Who’s talking shit about him? He wrinkles his nose and frowns, feeling another sneeze coming.

“Satoru,” his father calls as he walks out of the house with Shippo by his side and Himari behind him with Koushi in her arms. “We’re headed out. Taking the boys shopping and then we’re have a late lunch or early dinner.”

Satoru nods and then squats down. “Shippo, listen to your grandmother and grandfather, alright?”

“I know. I know. Mama already gave me the whole spiel.” Shippo rolls his eyes and then walks closer. He cups a hand around his mouth. “I want a TV in my room,” he whispers.

“And your mom said no,” Satoru whispers back.

“Mama packed a bottle just in case. If you get me a TV in my room, I can keep Grandma and Grandpa entertained longer.”

Satoru sucks his teeth. What a shrewd son he is raising. To think that he, Gojo Satoru, would be swayed by such a thing. “Keep them out long enough for an early dinner, and I’ll talk to your mom about it.”

Shippo squints and then nods his head. “I’ll accept that.”

“What are you two talking about?” Himari asks. She moves closer to the old man’s side. Satoru stares for a moment. There’s something off about them. Their body language is... he can’t put his finger on it, but something is different about them. Their outfits are even complimentary.

“Just talking about Christmas. You know that’ll be here before we know it.” He stands and then smiles at Koushi, who balls up a fist. “Koushi? What did I do?”

Koushi babbles and turns his head. Himari blinks and raises a brow.

“Why were the muffins lopsided this morning? Mama doesn’t make mistakes,” Shippo says. “You know why Koushi is mad at you.” He plants his hands on his hips and stares at him.

Satoru coughs. “Anyway, you guys need to get a move on it. Kagome and I have missions to take care of.” Satoru leans forward to kiss Koushi’s forehead, but there’s a barrier between them.

“What are you doing?” Syouma questions.

“My sons are geniuses,” Satoru says with a tight smile. “Alright, Koushi, I’ll see you when you get home.” Man, Koushi really holds a grudge. He rubs the back of his head and heads inside the house with a wave goodbye. “Kagome!” Satoru bites his bottom lip as he stands in the genkan, waiting for Kagome. Maybe she needs help?

“I’m coming, hold on,” Kagome yells back. When she comes into view, Satoru’s heart leaps to his throat. “Ready?”

“You’re fighting in that?” He swallows as he eyes her legs in the black tights. That red dress is short. Looks like it is made of satin and fuck. That neckline leaves nothing to the imagination. She’s not wearing a bra. His eyes drift down to her legs again. Is she wearing underwear? Kami, he hopes not.

“Fighting?” Kagome laughs. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

She’s dressed as if they are going on a date and not to exorcise a couple of curses. Are they going to make it to the first spot? Because he’s tempted to haul her into the bedroom and say to hell with work.

Kagome crosses her arms. “Do you not like it?”

“I love it,” he says, voice stained. “Wanna rip those tights so badly.”

“I packed extra. Everything is in the car.”

Packed extra? “Even the tripod?”

“Goodness, you are hopeless,” she jokes, sliding into a pair of black heels that are for sure going to end up over his shoulders before the day is over.

He can’t help himself and he’s never been on to hold back, so Satoru reaches for her, pulling her into his arms and kisses her. Kagome gasps and that brief intake of breath nearly does him in. He’s holding on to a sliver of control, for her sake. She wants to go with him on his missions, and damn it, he’s going to show off like never before.

“I love you,” he says fervently. His hand slides down, but Kagome pulls away. She wags a finger at him.

“Oh, no you don’t. Save it for the movie you asked for.” She tosses a look over her shoulder as she opens the door to the garage.

But he wants to touch her now. Satoru closes his eyes and inhales. “What about something to tide me over?” He slides his blindfold down. The strain isn’t bad when he’s with Kagome, and he knows how much she enjoys looking at his eyes. He closes the door behind him and then opens the passenger door for her.

They could fit three cars in here. He needs to take her car shopping sometime.

Leaning on the door, he watches as Kagome slides into the seat. She looks up at him and smiles. He smiles back. The way she looks at him turns his body inside out. His heart feels so light. Sometimes he has to stop himself from levitating because of how loose she makes him feel. Kagome toys with the end of her dress and then lifts it ever so slightly.

Satoru swears he isn’t breathing anymore. He wets his lips. “How many pairs of tights did you pack?”

“Guess you better get us to the mission site if you want to find out—Satoru!”

“Looks like we’re already here,” he quips. First time he’s ever teleported a car, but hey, at least they don’t have to worry about getting any speeding tickets now.

“You’re something else,” Kagome says with a laugh. She gets out of the car and gives him a look that has his cock hardening. “Aren’t you going to give me a show?” She nods her head towards the building. Satoru stifles a groan. He loves it when she puts up a barrier and that first rush of her powers flares across his skin.

“I’ll give ya a show, alright.”

***

A/N:

Happy Halloween! Wasn't gonna update but then Naoya wouldn't leave me alone so I had to write something.

And yes, you are being edged with this 'movie' lmao. It will be from Kagome's POV since it will be more of her taking the lead. Speaking of taking the lead, I'm still brainstorming the punishment for Brat Tamer, because he is already causing problems in chapter 2.

Have a great rest of the week! I'll see you guys on Sunday. Get plenty of rest and drink lots of water!

[fancyfeathers]

Thinking about William with an author darling again…

She is wealthy because of her books, extremely so, she is apart of the upper class but she is new money. Because she is new money she is more wealthy than most of the old money because their fortunes have been passed down from generation to generation, but unlike then she does not know how to spend the money she receives, some of it gets sent to her family to take care of them but the rest of her fortune just builds up. Many authors of the time did have horrible addictions, the price of fame, using smoking and drugs to numb the pain and shut the world out when it becomes too much to take. Many of her friends cope with the same addictions lingered in her friends who are also not use to the pressure of high society life, none of them are proud of it but none of them judge one another for it because they understand the stress of their lives. The mystery author is a genius of the highest order but still a person and only began writing for her enjoyment and now that her work has named her a mystery author her readers expect that each books holds the same genius as the one before but the thing is when someone writes and thinks about that much depravity it has a way with the mind and one person can only handle so much.

Then when the Lord of Crime starts mimicking her books she absolutely cracks, she has no enjoyment in writing anymore and begins hating herself for it all. Then when she marries William writing becomes that much harder and she has absolutely no teeth big to numb the pain anymore like the addictions she suffered from during her time as a free woman.

Sometimes during her late night writing sessions, she snags a cigarette from William’s study while he is on a mission and she will sit on her own desk, looking out the window at the moonlit city while having a smoke. Normally she puts it out and opens a window before William returns so she can get rid of any evidence but this time she does not. Her feet dangle just above the carpet as she sits on top of her desk when she hears the door open and a heavy sigh from her husband. William walks over and grabs the cigarette from her and drops it in the cup of tea that had long gone cold on her desk while she just looks out the window.

“I believed we talked about your bad habits before, dear.”

“I know, I just… don’t care anymore about anything… William, I… I genuinely do not think I can live anymore… I cannot live with myself or my mind.”

“Perhaps a bit of sleep will clear your mind, after all it is almost four in the morning now, love-“

“No, this is something that has plagued my mind for years… when you are good at something, people begin expecting that one thing from you and completely overlook everything else about you. I am known as this genius author whose mind rivals the nation’s smartest, but no one cares to remember that I am a person who has friends, family, and honestly never wanted any of this.”

“You never wanted any of this? But you told me once that writing was your lifeblood.”

“It was once but not anymore, I used to write for myself but now it just feels like- no it is something I do just to make others happy. Once that first mystery book was published that is what people put me to, but that is the only book I wanted to write like that but people expected me to write what they can not fathom, to go deep into the minds of the wicked with no regard to my own mind… I actually know how I would commit the perfect crime if I wanted to, but it all just means nothing to me anymore, just a means to an end… honestly I would give it all just to go back home, live with my family or just be that little girl again who made stories for fun… I just want to numb it all.”

Then after that she just breaks, something snaps inside of her. It is difficult to get her out of bed in the morning and then William has to help her get ready and honestly it takes firm reminders from Louis or someone else in the house to get her to eat and drink…

Then one day William hers the faintest of crying from his darling’s own study and when he goes in to check on her he has to stop and look at the sight before him. She is just standing there, looking down at the fireplace where her unfinished manuscript burns.

“I can’t do it anymore, William… hopefully with this gone society sees no use for me anymore and throws me aside… that would be nice because then I could be me again.”

[jaxteller87]

You Belong to Me

Laying in the middle of the bed in my dorm room, I whispered, nuzzling Amber’s neck as we lay on our sides. “You comfortable, darlin’?”

“I am. Are you?” she asked as I slid inside her. I nodded, biting down gently on my lower lip as I slowly pushed in a little deeper.

“Good,” she responded gently. “Fuck me, big papa.” I could hear her grunt under her breath with each thrust.

“Such a naughty little beauty,” I smirked. Amber closed her eyes and tilted her head back, inviting me to bite her neck playfully. She moaned as I worked my way up to her mouth. I gently grabbed her face and kissed her supple, pink lips.

“I’m yours, darlin’. Always will be,” she moaned into my ear while I moved back down her neck. Amber grabbed a fistful of my hair and passionately kissed me again. I pushed my manhood deeper inside her, and she pushed her tongue into my mouth. The heavy panting and initially somewhat quiet encounter soon switched over to loud screaming and the sound of my bedpost banging off the walls. By the time I was done with Amber, anyone who walked down the hall past this room would know who I belonged to. 

Lately, the croweaters have been over the top. Why? Your guess was as good as mine. It wasn’t untypical of them to try and link up with a spoken-for brother, but generally, you could just wave them off, and that’d be that, at least for a few months. This time, it almost seemed like they had made some secret bet amongst themselves on who could get under my sheets the fastest. Twice in the past week, I came down to the clubhouse to find not one but two naked croweaters in my door room. They played it off like they had just ended up there together, exploring their sexualities, but neither of them seemed surprised to see me, and they promptly invited me to join. A few years back, I would have, but being loyal to Amber was important to me. More important than the Club even. Regardless, when this uprising of sex-depraved croweaters happened, I’d decided to take Amber into the dorm any chance I had and give her the what for. Hell, one night, I took her to the bathroom and fucked her on the counter while a bunch of those crows were doing their makeup. In a total powerplay move, I saw Amber’s reflection in the mirror— locking eyes with Ima as I came inside her. When Ima tried to leave, I scooped Amber off the counter and put my back against the door, putting a few more pumps inside her right in front of the dick-starved crow.

Last night was amazing, as usual. When the morning sun shining through the window woke me up, Amber was still nestled in my arms, sleeping. I carefully crawled out of bed, careful not to disturb her. I yawned, looking out the window, and then turned to stare at my sleeping wife. I couldn’t help but smile. I never thought I’d be the type of person to watch a woman sleep. But as I did, one thing was clear to me: I was one lucky son of a bitch. I put my sweats on and headed out to the clubhouse to start a pot of coffee. I damn near broke my ankle trying to get behind the bar. Once I opened the shades, I noticed the chaos from the night before still sprawled out all over the place. Shaking my head with a smile, I saw all the liquor bottles and people passed out everywhere. Bobby was sitting in the corner with a naked twenty-something-year-old passed out across his lap. 

“Good night?” I asked.

“Don’t you know it,” he not so gently pushed her onto the floor. She hit with a thud but continued to sleep. Bobby took the throw blanket off the back of the chair and covered her up. “Sounds like you and Amber were having a hell of a good time as well.”

“Aye,” Chibs raised his head from the bar, “big papa, was it?”

I laughed and poured myself a cup of coffee. “That’s Vice President Big Papa to you,” I joked. With two cups in hand, I headed down the hall to find my wife waking up, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

“Not too bad, Teller,” she chuckled, seeing only one hickey on her chest.

“Then don’t look at your thighs,” I grinned, handing her a cup.

She looked down between her legs and shook her head. “Oh, Teller…”

“I mean, I could make more marks,” I offered.

“I know you could. But this’ll do for now. Thank you,” she smiled.

“Oh, come on,” I teased as we snuggled up with our coffee. “I don’t have anywhere to be today.”

“Even if you did…” Amber began.

“Even if I did, you would take precedence,” I kissed her forehead.

“How about a date?” She asked. By the way she said it, I instantly knew it was something she had been dwelling on for a while.

So, we spent the day out by the lake fishing, one of our favorite pastimes besides riding my bike, of course. Later that evening, we returned home, slightly sunburnt but otherwise in high spirits.

“Here’s some banana bread Bobby gave us. I told him the last time he made it how much we both liked it for something quick in the morning,” I sliced us each a small piece to eat before we retreated to the couch to watch a movie.

Later, we snuggled up, panting in each other’s arms as we moved in a sweet rhythmic motion. Becoming one with each other. “Yes, that’s it, papa. Show me I’m yours,” she cooed as I moved a little faster and pushed a little harder.

After another mind-blowing sexual encounter with my wife, I looked over at Amber, who was smiling with tears streaming down her face. The crying orgasms didn’t happen very often, but when they did, I kicked the aftercare up a notch. “Are you okay?” I asked.

“I promise I’m okay,” she chuckled. “It’s just a lot.”

“I know,” I smiled. “I’m so happy you’re mine, Amber,” nuzzling her neck and nipping at it a bit.

Once she was ready, I got a drink of cold tea and a snack for her.

“What have I told you? You don’t have to be embarrassed; just tell me I really did my job,” I chuckled, holding her close again.

She just smiled, giving my beard a loving scratch. “I’m so glad I get to call you mine, Teller,” she smiled.