#it’s always something wrong with the fucking doors or the fucking locks here

[himblebo]

Are you fucking kidding me

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

imagine logan seeing you again

logan x reader

warning: some deadpool x wolverine spoilers. this takes place after the movie. under 1k words.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The apartment was packed jammed with friends and some foes of Wade Wilson. There might have been music playing in the background, but Logan couldn’t tell when his eyes locked with the figure walking through the front door. His heart dropped, he felt sick to his stomach as his eyes fluttered. It had to be a dream but then he quickly came to his senses.

This wasn’t his universe, his world. He was somewhere entirely new. He caught his breath as Wade shouted out an exclamation of joy. Logan watched as he drew up from his seat to greet you with an overzealous hug, pulling you toward the group at the table.  Wade held you rough by the shoulders and grinned. “Look who decided to come out of retirement, conveniently after we,” he pointed to Logan then himself. “Saved the fucking world. Avengers, who? Bunch of assholes, if you ask me.”

“You sound like a man scorn, Wade,” you teased, offering a wave of a hand to your friends. The idiot next to you was right, the whole superhero thing had been a thing of the past. You have been a regular civilian for a few years now and have been loving a more relaxed existence – not being threatened daily was like, nice. “Don’t worry, you’ll see all the details in the movie. Have you meant my little angry beaver, the Wolverine?”

Your head jerked to where the older gentlemen was sitting, and you grinned. “I haven’t had the pleasure. I never met this world’s Logan – we ran in different circles. It’s nice to meet you.”

His heart relaxed and he confidently held out a hand, ignoring the interested glance from Laura. “Nice to meet you.”

“Take a seat next to Logan,” Wade urged, winking over to his new hesitant partner. “I’m sure he can fill you in on all the fun we’ve had together. Tell her about the sex ramp we had in the car that one time.”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Logan cursed, telling you to ignore him.

“I usually do,” you laughed, thanking Vanessa for the beer she slid over from her side of the table. Popping it open, you relaxed and asked Logan how this place was treating him. “Must be weird, coming here. It’s like your world, right? Just slightly different?”

“Something like that.”

“Did we know each other back there?”

Your question seemed so invasive and frank – it almost made Logan smile because some people never changed, no matter what universe. Back where he came from, you were such a firecracker little shit. He had his hands full dealing with your bullshit. You were always running towards danger with little regard for your own safety because you had him. He had always been at your side, or at least, trying to catch up but he had always been there for you.

Logan had loved you and you had loved him.

Two reckless mutants.

Then you died and that sent him straight down a barrel of alcohol and indifference, to everyone and everything in his world. Which led to his greatest shame of all, allowing his family to be murdered because he was too busy drinking his sorrows away. He had long forgotten what it felt like to see you smile or hear you laugh, to feel your fingertips on his skin. The weight of your head on his chest as you slept, he never could replicate that feeling and yet, here you were.

A different version of you but God, the same.

“We were friends, really good friends.”

The hint of sadness in his voice was enough for you to understand and maybe not truly, but something had happened. That much was evident and while it might have been silly, you wanted nothing more than to comfort this man next to you. The room seemed to fall quiet, but no one was paying attention, except the girl next to Logan. Your eyes met hers, but she just smiled and looked away. Logan’s eyes were focused on the beer in his hands, but his eyes jerked up when a gentle hand touched the top of his. Your skin ablaze his and it felt wrong to feel like he had once when he didn’t even know you. Not this version of you, a woman he knew nothing about. It didn’t feel right but he wanted nothing more to allow this to go on. To see who you were in this world.

Did he deserve that? After everything that happened.

“Were? I won’t pry but it seems like life has given you a second chance, Logan.” You smiled softly and removed your hand from his, lifting your beer can to him. “You guys saved this world; a second chance is the least the universe can give you. Why not take it?”

Logan chuckled lowly. “The version of you I knew also had a deficiency in reasoning.”

A hard smack landed on his chest, and he laughed, which made you laugh. “Yeah, well, at least I don’t look like that idiot.”

Looking over to where you pointed to Wade, who had decided to show off his hair piece, Logan smirked. “Yeah, that’s fucking terrible.”

The two of you smiled at each other and something clicked in that moment, leaving the both of you quiet until you broke the tension. “To not looking like Wade Wilson.”

Logan clicked his beer against yours and felt a settling in his heart. Maybe he did deserve a second chance, at least, he could start toward earning that second chance. “Amen to that.”

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, yandere, toxic relationship, friends with benefits, guns, threats of harm and death, name-calling

gn reader

When you open your heart to your fuck-friend, he sighs with rust.

You still have his cum inside your hole as he tears you a new one—telling you he doesn’t have the fucking time or the fucking energy to deal with lovey-dovey confessions right now—he has enough bullshit on his goddamn plate already without having to consider you and your fucking feelings as well.

If you’re not going to shut up and fuck him, you might as well shut up and fuck off.

So you do. The latter, that is.

Part of you knew it was going to end up this way. You with your heart broken and him with the blood on his hands. But part of you had hoped as well—hoped he felt the same way—hoped your words would soften his edges and wash away all the muck in his head enough to let you in.

You’d read a little too much into those gentle touches he sometimes bestowed upon you in his weaker moments—that soft way he cried when holding onto you during the night, wordless and clingy and begging you not to go.

But the more you think about it, the less you understand why your heart aches. It doesn’t really make much sense after all…

In truth, he’s an asshole. Always been. And you deserve better.

He’s always so angry. Always on something mudding up his blood. Never with anything nice to say. It doesn’t really matter how you’d held him in his nightmares or patched him up when he’d stumbled through your door drunk and bloody. 

Scarred boys in need of fixing aren’t good for your health—especially when all they have to offer you in return are callous words of rejection.

He’d always been secretive. He wasn’t a very good lover—but you're not entirely sure if he was ever even a good man. The wounds he’d dreg to your apartment in the middle of the night always left blood on your sheets. He never agreed to go to the hospital—always insisted your first-aid kit was enough, even when he'd come to you with bullets you’d have to dig out with a pair of tweezers.

You realize he’d been using you. You were convenient and stopped being convenient the minute you wanted more—and upon the realization, you move on.

And then he comes crawling back…

Shivering in the rain like a beaten street mutt—looking starved and sick like one, too. There’s blood on his shirt and a grim darkness in his eyes. He tells you to let him in, and you only barely have the guts to tell him to go away. 

He has this tortured look on his face—as though something’s your fault, as though you’ve wronged him in some way, as though you’re the reason he’s out in the cold with nowhere to go.

Barging in and slamming the door behind him—he locks it and pockets the key—ignoring your questions as you ask him what the fuck’s gotten into him. He looks deranged—water dripping from his matted bangs, eyes reddened, and cheeks streaked. You only now notice it isn't because of the rain.

“You said you wanted me, didn’t you?” he huffs. “Here I am.”

You’re tense. You hadn’t felt like that with him before, it takes you a minute to realize it’s because you’re scared. After all, you’d wanted him all those other times—rough or otherwise. And now you didn’t want him at all. 

“You should leave. You’ve been drinking.”

“What? You changed your mind already?” he accused, then scoffed with a not-so-unamused laugh. “I’m not surprised. People like you, who like danger and bad men, are always so fickle-hearted.” He approaches you too fast for you to back away, his scarred hands curling into your sweater—split skin from recent beatings bleed onto the fabric. “Flighty little slut, you’ve probably already found the next guy who gives you a rush. Isn’t that right?” He’s seething as he pulls you forward, looking like a hostile hound.

You lay your hands on his chest to keep him at a distance—feeling his entire body shake like static beneath your touch. You wonder if he’s taken drugs tonight, but looking into his eyes, you don’t think so. They aren’t fidgety but deadset. Actually, upon closer look, you don’t even think he’s drunk.

But anyway, it doesn’t really matter. You still don’t want him here. “I’m serious. Get out, or I’m calling the police.”

“Oh? Are we slinging threats now?” he jeers, showing no signs of letting go or leaving—he only pulls you in closer, so close you could kiss. “What? Don’t tell me you’re scared now.” He breathes out another short excuse for a laugh as you veer away, putting his lips to your ear instead. “You should have been from the start—but no—grinding up on me at the club as though you’d die without my attention. Crying pretty tears when you saw me all beaten and bruised—acting as though you want to save me. Tch—”

He throws you down on the carpeted floor. You wince from the impact, and when you look up again, you see he has a gun pointed at you.

You stop breathing. A dark sinkhole in your gut seems to want to swallow you from the inside, and you think you might just want it to if it means escaping the threat before you.

“I shouldn't have come here…” he mutters—finger resting on the trigger all too calmy. “But I just couldn’t get your face out of my head. Looking up at me with those doe-eyes, wearing my shirt even though it’s got blood on it after I fuck you silly, saying such sweet little nothings as if I’d paid you to.”

He sighs—heavily—as though he’s expelling spirits. His hand remains holding the gun poised and pointed straight down at you even as the other drags down his face, pulling his maw before sliding through his wet locks, raking them away from his face.

“I gotta kill you, you know?” he says, shoulders slumping with the statement. He sniffs—it's almost soft enough to be a sniffle. “That’s the only way to solve this. That’s the only way to get you out of my fucking head.”

He cocks the safety with a click that makes your life flash before your eyes. Faces of your family and friends, people you haven't seen in years, childhood pets long dead, a job interview, the holiday you felt true happiness, the night you went out dancing and met him.

The tears stream silently down your face, and you still don’t breathe. Every part of you, every nerve and muscle, has gone completely still. Unmoving, unblinking as you stare up through the barrel of the gun and wait for the bullet to come through.

His finger curls tighter around the trigger, and you close your eyes with a furl between your brows. And then…

Nothing. There’s a large exhale.

“I can’t do it…” 

You open your eyes to see the gun lowered. The sight brings a fresh rush of air back to your lungs, making you all but wheeze as it fills you, breathing in far too much and much too quickly. You regain some semblance worth of motoric, too—able to scramble backward until there’s no more room to be gained, sitting with your back against the wall. Eyes peeled at him where he’s taken to crouch, holding his head with his free hand and the one still with the gun in it.

He fists his hair and tugs on it frustratedly, muttering to himself. “Dozens of lives on my hands, and I can't kill this one single-” he stopped short.

This time, when he looks at you, there’s something else in his eyes. No malice or scorn, but something sad—pity almost.

“Well… seems like you got what you wanted...”

The pity’s for you.

“This is what having my heart feels like.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shoto, Dabi ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Toji ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[luvyeni]

❛COCKBLOCKERS❜ ( 00' liners )

authors note. based on a dream i had 😊 enjoy !

p. roommate!00' line x fem!reader w. 6.4k+

— 𖦹 warnings. unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, oral ( f. receiving ), dirty talk, haechan is a munch, size kink ( jeno duh.)

— 𖦹 ( living with four boys isn't easy for your sex life , but luckily your roommates are here for you) !

“Do you even masturbate?”

Living with haechan for almost 2 years, you were pretty used to these questions — to the point were you don’t even flinch at the questions anymore. “Of course I do, i'm human haechan.”

“Yeah but i've never caught you, and i've caught just about everyone who lives in this apartment.” He was referring to your other roommates; jaemin, jeno and renjun — who were also used to his antics. “That’s because jaemin has a exhibition kink and jeno is a himbo so he forgets to lock the door, I've caught both of them multiple times.” Jaemin shrugged, smirking. “Can’t say you’re wrong.”

“Im not a himbo.” Jeno looked up from his phone. “Whatever you say, renjun is the only one I haven’t caught, because like me he’s smart enough to lock his door.” You said, speaking of the boy who finally exited his room. “What about locking my door.” He said. “She talking about when you masturbate.” Your eyes widened at haechan completely taking what you said out of context.

“W-why are you talking about that?” he cough, rubbing the back of his red neck. “Haechans bitch ass took that out of context don’t worry.” You threw the pillow at the boy, he dramatically fell back. “So where do you do it?” He asked, picking the pillow up. “In my room or in the shower, jesus haechan not everyone gets off in the open spaces.” You said.

“Wh-why are you guys having this conversation right now?” Renjun finally asked the right question. “Because jaemin and haechan think she’s asexual because we’ve never seen a boy come in and out of this apartment for her, and she never leaves the house.” You scoffed at jeno, meanwhile renjun regretted asking the question. “In other words, she’s not getting any dick.”

You scoffed, and that totally wasn’t your fault. “Well im sorry but not many guys like the or are comfortable fucking in a apartment when you have a mans voice yelling ‘yn where’s the chopstick for the ramen!’ or ‘yn how do start the washer!’ You mock their voices. “it’s kind of a turn off.”

“But that doesn’t stop you from leave and getting some.” Jaemin said. “You would think, but it seems like everyone on campus seems to think we’re in a big poly relationship, thanks to haechan being the alcoholic he is.” You said, remember the party a year ago. “What did I do?” You scoffed. “You got on a table and yelled it in front of half of the campus.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Yeah, so thanks to you 3 cockblockers im reduced to using my fingers as a form of release.” You stood up. “Is this conversation done now, can I go to my room?” You didn’t wait for a answer, you just kept walking. “3 ? What about renjun? Jeno asked. “He knows where the chopsticks are, he also knows how to start the washer and hold his alcohol.” You walked past the boy, smiling. “Good job renjun, for not being the reason im involuntary celibate.”

He watched you walk all the way to your room, closing your door. “Why does she always defend you?” Haechan said, renjun shrugged. “Does she want to fuck you or something?” Jaemin laughed. “More like he wants to fuck her.” Renjun felt his face heating up again, quickly walking back to his room.

“Well no shit look at her, who in this house doesn’t want to fuck her.” Jeno shook his head. “Don’t try and judge me jeno, you were the first one to say you wanted to fuck her.” Jeno stood up, putting his phone away. “Yeah I did, and I still do.” He said. “But I don’t act like a bitchless loser either.” He picked up his gym bag. “Hey! Im not bitchless.” The boy fought back. “Whatever you say, maybe don’t ask her if she’s asexual or training to be a nun and she’ll fuck you.” He left out the house.

“Haechannie.” Jaemin stood up, “Don’t give up, she’ll come around and find something appealing on you." He looked the boy up and down, patting his shoulder in a comforting way. “maybe.” He left leaving the boy to pout in the livingroom.

“Well shit, now im horny.”

There was a knock on your door, you looked up from your show playing on the computer as the door slowly opened, renjun popping his head in. “I just wanted to see if you were still up, and to not let what haechan said bother you, it’s okay if you don’t do that stuff all the time.” He said, you smiled. “Whatever comes out of haechans mouth will never make me upset, he’s harmless.”

He chuckled, “More like demented, but I get it.” You laughed in return, making him smile. “Is that it?” you asked and he nodded. “Yeah, im going to bed, i'll see you in the morning, goodnight.” You waved. “Goodnight renjun.”

“Stupid fucking professors.” You dropped your bag on the ground in anger. “Whoa.” Jaemin stood in the kitchen. “What’s wrong with you?” You opened the refrigerator door, grabbing a beer. “Oh you must be stressed, it’s 12 and you’re drinking.” He said. “I am.” You cracked open the can, taking a big gulp of the beer, sighing.

“My professors moved my essay date up until this week, because she won’t be in next week.” You took another sip. “how is it my fault her sister is going into labor, does her sister have incompetent husband.”

Jaemin saw how angrier you were getting with every sip, deciding to intervene. “okay love that’s enough.” He took the can from your hand. “You’re stressed, drinking isn’t gonna solve it.” You sighed, rubbing your temples, leaning over the counter. “I’m gonna drop out.” He laughed, knowing you didn’t mean it. “You’re adorable.”

You glared at him as he stood next to you, the dishes he was doing long forgotten, instead he was staring at you. “Im about to break down and that’s all you have to say,  im adorable.” He nodded, you pouted. “Don’t make that face, you’re making it hard for me.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “What do you mean?” You eyes widened as he got closer and closer — pressing you against the counter. “It’s hard to not want to not stick my hand in these sweats of yours and help you distress — I hate seeing you all stressed.” He was extremely close, his nose brushing against yours gently.

“Jaemin.” You sighed, grabbing his bicep. “We ca— you’re stressed aren’t you baby?” He said, you nodded. “This is what I do when im stressed, I get off and I know your little fingers won’t pleasure you enough.” He said. “I didn’t want to say anything yesterday cause I didn’t want to get haechan started, but I hear you sometimes, when you’re touching yourself.”

eyes widened in horror — you couldn’t believe he heard you. “Oh my god.” You whined. “This is so embarrassing.” You covered your face, but he quickly removed your hands. “Don’t be, those pretty gasp and whines coming from your room are like music.” He said. “But I know it’s not enough is it?” His fingers danced along your waistband. “Not enough to make you satisfied?”

You moaned softly, he smirked. “Listen to you baby, I know you want it, just let me help you distress.” He said, pulling at the waistband letting it snap at your waist. “When im done we don’t even have to talk about it.” He said, but you could hear the condescending tone in his voice. “But you might want more.”

You thought about it, what’s the worst that could happen, it will be awkward for a few days then you’ll go back to being normal — you could do that definitely – you once avoided renjun when you walked on him in the shower, and then you went right back to talking to him like nothing happen, and he let it go like nothing happened. “Princess don’t think too hard, hurt that pretty little head.”

You sighed — his hands waiting at your waistband waiting for you to give him the go. “And it won’t be awkward?” He nodded. “We won’t speak of it if you want” He reassured, kissing your forehead. “I just want to help you.” He whispered. “Just wanna make you cum.” That did it for you, you grabbed his wrist, guiding his hand into your sweats. “Please touch me.”

He smiled, cupping your clothed heats. “Sh-shit.” You moaned out. “You’re soaked through your panties pretty.” He toyed with your folds through your underwear. “Ja-jaemin.” You sighed, he smiled. “N-no teasing.” You whined, he chuckled. “Okay baby I won’t, I wont.” He said moving your panties to the side, running a finger across your folds. “So wet baby, your pussy is so desperate for me to touch her.”

He pressed a finger at your hole, slowly sinking it in. “Jaemin-” You moaned as his thick finger stretched you out. “Such a tight pussy, poor baby hasn’t had anybody touch her like this in a while has she?” You moaned, shaking your head. “You want another.”

“y-yes.” You moaned as he added another finger, stretching your cunt out more. “Sh-shit your fingers are amazing.” He smirked. “Yeah?” He asked, moving  his fingers in and out of your hole. “My fingers stretching your pretty pussy good?” You nodded, moaning out as his used the pad of his thumb to rub your clit. “Fu-fuck im gonna cum.”

“Go a head, you deserve it princess, cum on my fingers.” He fucked his fingers into your hole faster. “Cum for me.” He said and on his command you came all over his fingers. “Fuck!” You sighed as he stroked your clit with his thumb as you came down from your high. “Jae.” You gasped, grabbing his wrist,  stopping him. “I-I came.”

He chuckled stopping his movements. “You’re evil.” You breathed, he laughed. “But it was fun watching you struggle, and you feel better don’t you?” You nodded, “I do, thank you.”

You both were bought back to reality by a cough. “Want to come back to earth, you’re in the kitchen.” Jeno said, looking at the scene in front of him. “With your hands stuffed in her sweats.” He held his bag in his hand. “Right.” He took his hand out from your pants. Your face was heated with embarrassment of being caught — jaemin on the other hand couldn’t care less. “Thanks to someone I have something take care of.”

Your eye widened — jeno scoffing in amusement as you both watched jaemin brought his hand covered in your juices to his mouth, sucking on them, humming as he exited into his room to do the obvious.

You and jeno stood in a silence — a awkward one before spoke up. “I’m sorry you had to walk in on that.” You stood on the balls of your feet, looking down. “We all need to distress sometimes, next time it should be in your room though, haechan could’ve walked in and that would’ve been— tragic.” You said and he nodded. “also please don’t tell him, I don’t want it to be awkward, renjun either.” He gave you a salute.

“My lips are sealed.” He said, you nodded. “I owe you big time, thank you so much.” You said. “I'm gonna go, see you after your class.” You scurried away to your room, his eyes followed you the entire time.

“Shit.” He sighed to himself, how was he supposed to focus in class with the scene of you moaning while his friend fingered you in his head; and his cock hard against his jeans.

Luckily a few days past and the kitchen incident was never brought up, it was kept a secret between you, jaemin and jeno — like it never happened, well expect when it happened again when everyone wasn’t home again, or when jaemin would look  at you with fuck me eyes that made you flustered, but no one even noticed — at least that’s what you thought.

“I know it’s in here.” You rummaged through his dirty clothes hamper — any other time that would’ve gross you out, going through a grown mans laundry, but your favorite black bra, was in there and you needed to wash it, you were going out on Saturday and you needed it — it made your tits look the best.

“Excuse me.” A voice made you jump turning around. “Shit jeno.” You sighed, calming down. “You scared me.” He lifted his eyebrows in confusion. “I scared you?” He said. “You’re in my room, going through my dirty laundry and I scared you?” He laughed amused.

“Your laundry?” You said, standing fully up. “I thought this was jaemins, it was near his beds.” You said. “Because his bed is closer to the door where I had it because I was gonna wash them later.” He pointed to the closet. “his is in the closet.” You wanted to shrivel up and die. “I'm so sorry.” You quickly put the stuff that fell out, putting it back by the door.

“It’s okay.” He said, sitting his gym bag down. You opened the closet, where his hamper was. “Oh.” You bent down going through, huffing once you realized it wasn’t I there either. “I has to be in here.” You whined.

Jeno couldn’t help it — he is only a man, and you were wearing those shorts that made your ass look so good, he couldn’t help but stare, his cock hardening in his gym shorts. “how was the gym?” You asked as you went through the hamper. “Good.” You didn’t hear the subtle change in his voice.

He was slowly losing it, the way you kept having a conversation with him, with your ass basically in his face, if he looked hard — which he already was, but if he looked harder, he could see the outline of your pussy — you weren’t wearing any panties.

“Fuck.” He cursed, finally snapping. “You have to be doing this on purpose.” He said darkly. “huh?” You turned to him confused. “I mean what you’re looking for can’t be in there, the hamper isn’t that big and you reached the bottom already.” He said. “So you have to know what you’re doing.”

“Do-doing what?” You said , slowing backing up as he stalked you, his eyes low and full of lust. “showing that ass of yours off.” He backed you up against the wall. “I can see your pussy through these shorts.” You bit your lip. “I-im sorry.” You looked up at him your lashes.

He grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. “If I let you go this time will you owe me?” he smirked. “You still owe me for not telling haechan and renjun about you and jaemin.” He said. “should I tell him then? What about when you both did it again on the couch?” How did he know about that. “how did you- you might want to keep it under wraps, but jaemin loves to talk.” He said, his hands squeezing your waist — you whimpered.

“You know I was pretty pissed, finding both of you in that kitchen?” he said. “and when jaemin told me again I was livid.” He pressed his sweaty body against yours, his musky smell from the gym radiating off of him, it was your favorite smell on him. “Wh-why?” You stuttered, he smirked. “Because I wanted to be the one to taste that pussy first.”

You felt his words in your cunt, this was the second time one of your roommates was pressing you against a surface, confessing a dirty thoughts that they had of you. “You’re so hard.” You felt his hard on against your pelvis, twitching in shorts. “Yeah I am, cause of you baby, you gonna help me?”

You weren’t gonna pass this up — you weren’t dumb. “Yeah.” You said , he quickly grabbed your shorts, pushing them down  to your ankles. “No panties baby, you’re really looking to be fucked like a whore.” He tapped your thighs. “Jump.”

He grabbed both of your thighs , his cock was now sitting under your ass. “gonna stretch this pussy out.” He held your body in one arm, quickly undoing his shorts letting them fall to the ground. “Je-jeno please fuck me.” Your voice was whiny, your fingers locked around his neck.

He lifted you up, grabbing the base of his cock holding it as he sunk you down on it. “Sh-shit you’re so fucking tight.” He groaned. “So tiny , you’re pussy is struggling to take me.” You moaned, closing your eyes as he slowly sunk deeper and deeper into your wet cunt. “Of fuck! You’re so big.”

He finally bottomed out, his hand against the wall above your head as he calmed himself down. “Fu-fuck this pussy is gonna make me cum early.” He slowly began to move, his cock hitting all the right spots as he held you against the wall. “Oh my god.” You gasped.

He began to move faster, your head knocked against the wall. “fuck!” you screamed. “Baby, these walls are thin and anyone could walk into the apartment and hear you getting your pussy fucked open by me, unless you want haechan and renjun to know how much a whore you are, cause im pretty sure jaemin already knows, then I suggest you try and shut that pretty mouth of yours.”

His words made you clench around him. “Fu-fuck baby let up, or im gonna cum inside your pussy.” He groaned. “unless that’s what you want.” You moaned out, yanking at hair on his neck. “Pl-please.” You whimpered.

“Fu-fuck you want me to cum inside you?” he grunted, his hips snapped harder against you. “Breed this little cunt up.” He hummed, biting at your neck. “yes!” You screamed. “please cum inside me.” He groaned, his pelvis hitting your clit, along with his cocked continuously hitting your cervix. “Fuck im gonna cum.”

Before you could even warn him again, you came, he felt your cunt spasm around him. “Sh-shit.” He groaned, looking down where your bodies connected a white ring formed around his cock base. “Oh fuck, your pussy is magic -fuck- im gonna cum.” He moaned. “Fuck im cumming , im gonna cum.” He groaned, then you felt his cum leaking into  your womb.

“Shit.” He sighed. “Hold on.” He held you in his arms, sitting down with you in his lap, his cock still inside you. “im gonna pull out now.” You nodded , and his lifted you up, his soft cock slipping out of you. “That felt good.” You said. “Yeah?” He said, you nodded. “I need to shower now.” You got up, he held your arm. “You got it?”

You nodded, legs a little wobbly. “Do you need help?” He asked, your turned to him. “Are you really gonna help or do you want to have shower sex?” He smiled cheekily. “will you let me fuck you if I help you shower after?” You shook your head. “Fine.”

“Wait what were you even looking for?” He asked, taking his shirt off, throwing it in the hamper. “My black bra, im going out on Saturday and I need it.” You said. “The one that makes your tits look good.” You gave him a side eye. “Don’t look at me, of course I look at your tits.” He said, looking down. “Here it is.” He held it in his hand, throwing it in his hamper. “I'll wash it for you.”

“I better get my bra back lee jeno.”

You sat at your desk, finishing up the essay that stressed you out earlier in the week. “finally.” You finally hit the send button. “I hope your sisters husband has a horrible day, cause why are you going on maternity leave for her baby.” You pushed your glasses against your face. “Hey.” Jaemin knocked on the door. “Next time you fuck jeno, don’t leave your shorts in the room.” He tossed them on your bed.

“Thanks.” You said, it almost didn’t phase you showing him the computer. “Look I finished the essay.” You said. “From the other day?” he asked, you shook your head. “I guess my fingers really did wonders didn’t it.” You rolled your eyes. “get out of my room jaemin.” He smirked. “Im just saying , these fingers are magical, look how fast you finished that essay.” You picked up the plushie haechan gave you for your birthday about to chuck it at him, but he quickly shut the door.

“Dumbass.” You turned back to your computer, going over your syllabus for the upcoming week. Your door slowly creaked  open,  you thought it was jaemin, so you picked the toy up, your arm up ready to throw it. “Stop fucking around jaemin.” You threw the toy. “Jaemin?” you swiveled around in the chair, facing the person. “Was he just in here or something? Why are you calling me jaemin?”

“Oh shit haechan my bad, jaemin came to return something to me , and he was fucking around so I had to kick him out my room.” You quickly explained , he walked into your room, you noticed him stumble a bit — he was drunk. “I thought he was fucking around at my door.”

He hummed sitting on your bed, the toy in his hand, his cheeks a dusty red from the alcohol. “Did you have fun with mark and Johnny tonight?” he nodded, you hated when he was quiet, it seemed uncanny. “I did, but it was ruined.” He said. “Ruined?” you questioned. “How was it ruined?”

“I figured out I must be the problem.” He said. “What do you mean hyuck?” You turned in your chair facing him. “I might bit be as witty as jaemin or as strong as jeno or even as smart as renjun, but I thought I at least had some good qualities.” He said, picking at the hair of the toy.

“donghyuck what are you ta– oh.” It finally it you. “Shit, how did you find out?” You said. “I heard jaemin talking about it when I walked into the house.” He said, finally looking at you. “Are you upset?” He scoffed, smiling to himself. “Did you fuck renjun?” You looked at him weird. “no.”

“Good, I refuse to lose to renjun.” He said. “Why are you in a one sided competition with renjun, he hardly comes out of his room?” You said. “Because you don’t see it, but I do, I am man, I saw that jeno and jaemin wanted to fuck you and look what happened.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re deranged, renjun doesn’t want to fuck me.”

“well im not missing my chance and letting him win.” He said, sinking to his knees. “W-what are you doing?” You asked , as he crawled to you. “What does it look like?” He tapped your legs. “Im gonna eat you out.”

He pulled your legs apart, you were only in a oversized shirt, and some underwear. “H-haechan.” You covered your clothed heat. You’re drunk.” He scoffed. “I'm fully aware about what I want, and what I want is to eat your pussy.”

He moved your hand. “Fuck, you smell so good.” He inhaled. “Can’t wait to eat you out.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “hyuck, you’re drunk, you need to sleep.” You said, but he wasn’t listen. “Please, I really want to.” He looked up you, a look in his eyes. “Please.”

He kissed at your thighs. “See I am fully aware.” He kissed your clothed cunt, you sighed, your hands flying to his hair. “You taste so good.” He said licking your folds. “Let me take your panties off and get a full taste.” He said, his voice sounded so breathy, almost like a whimper — it turned you on even more. “that’s all I want, you don’t have to do anything in return.”

“Fu-fuck okay.” You moaned, he smiled kissing your thighs once again. “thank you.” He quickly grabbed the waistband of your panties, you lifted your hips — holding on to the arms of the chair as the air from your aircon hit your cunt. “So pretty.” He said, dipping his head back into your thighs.

“Fuck , such a pretty pussy.” He licked your now exposed folds. “sh-shit haechan.” He sloppily made out with your cunt. “it feels so good, doing so good.” Your praise went straight to his cock, his cock twitched against his pants, he hummed against your cunt. “fu-fucking good boy.”

You tugged at his hair with one hand, holding the arm of the chair, pushing him deeper and deeper into your cunt. “Hyuck, fuck!” You yelped. “Fuck im gonna cum.” He pulled away, his lips and bottom lip covered in your juices — his eyes completely blown. “Please cum.” His fingers strung at your clit, he looked up at you. “I want you to cum in my mouth.” He said. “Please I want it.”

“Fuck im cumming.” He put his mouth back on your cunt, your legs tightened around his head, cumming — haechan catching all of it, getting even more intoxicated. “Haechan.” You whined as he cleaned up his mess, pulling away. “Did I do good?”

You ran your hand through his messy hair. “yes, you did.” He smiley like a fool. “You like being called good boy" You smirked. “Are you- are you a sub.” He pinched your thigh, you hissed, tugging at his hair. “im not a sub.” He said. “Just being called good boy by you turns me on.”

“So it’s just me?” You smirked, he could hear the condescending tone. “If you tell anybody then I’ll deny.” He said. “Too bad the entire fucking apartment heard it, keep it down.” Jeno stood in the door. “and I still got to fuck her first.” He closed the door. “now you have to let me fuck you.”

“Haechan get the fuck out my room.”

“You are right.” Jaemin ogled your bust. “Huh?” You said sitting in the front seat of the car, renjun driving since he was the only sensible one. “Your tits do look good in that bra.” Renjun looked at the boy through the mirror — he wasn’t dumb, he knew what was going on, he seen the changes happening, the sexual tension that was constantly lingering in air when you were around — it kind of made him jealous.

Renjun had always thought you were pretty , he was newer to the apartment, but he was constantly nervous whenever he tried to talk to you — often opting to stay to himself in his room. “Stop looking at my tits jaemin.” You said, turning around where the three boys were. “be on your best behaviors, no getting sloppy drunk, im not dragging you home.” You said, but they weren’t paying attention, you shook head turning around.

“My tits seem more important.” You said to yourself — renjun slammed on the breaks, quickly putting his arm out to stop you from  hitting your head on the dashboard, the guys in the back not so much. “Shit im sorry I thought I saw a cat in road.” Renjun said, as the guys in the back moaned and groaned in pain.

You turned to him, where he was smiling to himself. “We’re here anyway.” You said, as he parked the car. “Go drink it off, not too much though.” You said, climbing out the car. “I swear he did that on purpose.” You heard haechan mumble as you all walked into the bar where your other friends waited. “Thank you.” You turned to renjun. “F-for what.” He smiled, you laughed. “Don’t mention it.” He followed behind the guys where Johnny and mark were.

“What!?” Your friends looked at you with jaws dropped. “All of them?” jinhae asked. “well not renjun.” you said taking your sip of your drink. “but yes.” You said. “And they all know about it?” You nodded. “I mean they’ve all seemly walked in or found out in someway.” You said. “And they’re okay with that?”

“Do they really have a choice, im not really looking for a relationship and they can easily stop if they want, im not going to them for it.” You shrugged. “Wow you lucky bitch.” Dayhun said. “We can barely find a guy who can find the clit, and here you are getting good dick by 3 guys who actually want to fuck you.” You turned to where they were, all of them looking directly at you. “Hi.” Haechan waved beaming, jeno slapping the back of his head. You turned around laughing at them.

“Are you a loser?” Jeno slapped the back of the boys head. “Stop waving.” The boy rubbed the back of his head. “Will you guys stop hitting me, i am in pain!” He shrieked, Johnny  and mark caught on to the tension. “What the fuck is going on with you guys?” Johnny said. “There’s this air around all of you guys, and I can’t tell if it’s hostility or- it’s sexual hostility.” Renjun spoke up.

“Sexual hostility?” Mark questioned. “Why?” Renjun got up to get himself another drink while they explained to the two boys. “Hey.” You stood at the bar. “Hey.” He smiled, ordering his drink. “Are they drunk yet?” You asked. “Not yet give it another 20 minutes, we’ll be dragging them out of the bar.” You shook your head. “Great.” You said, the bartender returning with both of your drinks. “here for her drink too.”

“Thank you, you didn’t have to.” he held his hand up. “I wanted to, go have fun with your friends.” He said, turning to make his way back to the boys. “What were you guys talking about?” jaemin asked. “nothing I just bought her a drink.”

“what?” Johnny smirked. “You fucked her too, lucky bastard.” Renjun rolled his eye. “No im not fucking her.” He said. “you mean they’re all fucking her, but not you.” Mark said with wide eyes. “Like is this voluntary or does she find something wrong with you?” Renjun cursed at the boys as they busted out into laughter. “I’m leaving all of you here watch, you bastards I hope you all get an std and won’t be able to have sex at all.”

And of course you had to end up dragging haechan out of the bar — jaemin and jeno dragging their bodies behind, stumbling. “Stupid fuckers who can’t hold your drinks.” Renjun held the door open as you dropped Haechans body in the back seat, letting them all crawl into the back. “Thank you love.” Haechan slurred, you shut the door climbing into the passengers seat— renjun into the drivers.

The ride home was nothing the sorts of good, jeno and jaemin arguing drunkenly about random shit, and haechan dry heaving complaining about having to throw up. “junie think you can speed up this car, before I take the wheel and crash it.” He nodded, pressing on the gas.

You guys finally got back to the apartment, renjun dragging haechan by his collar. “Be more gentle, im sick.” He whined. “And who’s fault is that, renjun opened the door to haechans room, pushing him inside closing the door.

“Hey yn, come.” Jaemin slurred. “Let’s go in your room.” He smirked. “If think you’re getting fucked tonight think again.” You took his hand off your shoulder. “go to sleep and sober up.” You said, he pouted. “Jeno, lets cuddle.” You shook your head, watching jeno push at the boy. “No you have a boner, im not cuddling with you like that.” He said , you closed the door huffing. “see why I don’t go out with them often?”

Renjun stood up against the wall. “This will be last time I go out with them two.” You said, walking into the kitchen, renjun followed behind. “Here.” You reached into the fridge pulling out two beers. “For your help in getting them to bed.”

He took the can from you, you opened yours taking a sip. “I think staying home is way better anyway, my feet are killing me and this bra is uncomfortable.” You bent over taking your shoes off, giving renjun a  perfect shot of your boobs. He took a sip of his drink, trying to look away.

“Don’t wear things that make you uncomfortable.” He said, you smiled. “look at you being all caring, this is the most you’ve said to me in a week, I was certain you hated me.” You walked into the living room sitting down on the couch. “I don’ hate you.” He said.

“Could’ve fooled me.” You said. “I don’t really, Im just nervous.” He said, you cocked your head to the side. “Nervous?” You questioned. “why are you nervous?” He said too much , he sat the beer down. “Maybe the drinks from the bar and that beer is too much.” He felt the heat rising to his face. “Im talking too much.”

You chuckled, he smiled before chuckling too. “No tell me why are you nervous?” You said, putting your hand on his thigh — he knew you meant it in a comforting way, but his cock clearly didn’t get the memo, twitching against his jeans. “W-well because you’re you.”

“Im me?” You questioned, he nodded. “You’re pretty and smart and you don’t care about what people think and you're hot.” He covered his mouth, he swears he’ll never drink around you again. “fuck im an idiot.” He said. “No it’s cute, you’re cute.”

You hissed again, the pain in your shoulder increasing. “it’s time to give this bra up.” You sighed, rubbing your shoulder. “Let me." He said. “Oh you don’t have to, once I go to my room it will be off.” You said, but he stopped you.  “im good at these things, trust me.” He said. “fine.”

You turned around, your back was facing him. He moved your hair to the side, bringing his hands to your tender shoulders, rubbing — you sighed as he magically worked on your shoulders. “Fuck that feels good.” You whispered.

He was bit his lip, but you sounded so pretty, your moans going straight to his cock. “You have like magic fingers or something.” He hummed, sliding your bra down your shoulder, your neck fully on display — ready to be kissed.

“You feel better?” He said you nodded. “You’re a god send.” You said, his hands lingered on your neck. “Renjun.” You were about to turn around and question him, when you felt his lips against your neck. “Im sorry.” He whispered. “I just don’t think I can handle myself anymore.” he left little kisses along your shoulder blades, nipping lightly making you shiver. You turned around, slamming your lips against his.

You climbed into his lap, unbuttoning his shirt — reaching behind undoing your bra. “fuck you’re so pretty.” He groaned, you sat directly on his cock. “m'so hard right now.” He groaned, you grinded against him. “fuck, please don’t tease me.”

You got up, he undid his pants lifting his hips up, leaving them at his ankles. You lift under your skirt, pulling your panties down, climbing back into his lap, you grabbed the base of his cock, sinking down on it. “shit.” He sighed as you sat down fully on his cock. “Fuck you’re so tight.” You moaned out, holding his shoulders for support.

“Y-you’re so big.” He groaned. “Fu-fuck yn, please move.” You began to move your hips, up and down on his cock — he held your hips, guiding you. “your cunt feels so good.” He groaned, throwing his head back in pleasure, he felt like he was in heaven, the way your cunt fluttered around him, squeezing his cock beautifully. “Oh fuck -fuck- im gonna cum.” He groaned. “Im not wearing a condom, get up, im gonna cum.”

But you don’t listen, you keep riding him. “Fuck, yn please.” He groaned, trying to hold off. You tug at his hair, whispering in his ear. “Fuck, please just cum.” You moaned. “Please im gonna cum.” He cursed, fuck you were killing him. “Fuck!” He groaned, shooting his load into your cunt, triggering your own orgasm. “Sh-shit renjun!”

Your legs trembled as you rode out your high. “god your beautiful.” He pulled you into a kiss — out of all of them he was the only one to kiss you.

You both later went to bed, and you didn’t wake up until the next morning when you heard them fussing in the kitchen, you groaning as you stomped into the kitchen. “What the fuck is going on?” You yelled. “Where is the coffee? I need coffee.” Haechan groaned.

“And that’s why you’re raging early in the damn morning.” You opened the cabinet, slamming it. “Why so loud?”  Jaemin rubbing his temples. “Im pissed.” You sat down at the table. “Why did renjun not make you cum?” You eyes shot open. “Are you people just waiting by for the next time I fuck one of you?” You said.

“I did make her cum.” Renjun walked out of the room, his bag on his back — seemingly the only one with his life together. “You could’ve too had you not been drunk out of  your mind.” He said, jeno and jaemin snickered on the side.

“I want to smack that smirk off his face.” Haechan grumbled, as renjun walked out of the apartment satisfied. “Don’t get all pouty, you’re still my good boy.” You teased. “Yah, I said don’t talk about that outside of the bedroom.” He said. “Wait does that mean I was the best?”

“Yn don’t answer that.” Jeno said, jaemin agreed. “please don’t.” You turned to the other boy who was waiting. “Answer it , I can take it.” He said. “You can’t bitch about it.” Jaemin scoffed. “He’s gonna do that anyway.”

“Just answer it.” He said, “no you weren’t the best at fucking me.” He frowned. “We told you.” Jeno said. “Are you serious? How could you be so cruel and say that?” He whined. “Be calm.” You said. “You didn’t even let me finish.” He flagged you off. “I don’t want to hear it.” He said.

“Was it jaemin?” Jeno asked. “No.” Jaemin didn’t seem so surprised. “I guess I gotta keep trying.” He said. “That’s the spirit.”

“Then who is it?” Haechan spoke up. “renjun or jeno?” he questioned. “if you say renjun im gonna kill myself.” You shook your head. “well if would’ve let me finish, you would’ve known that you and jaemin weren’t even in the race.” You said. “Why, are you that biased?” He argued.

“No dumbass because you two didn’t actually fuck me.”

©️LUVYENI

[tinycoffeeroom]

more than enough | lando norris

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

requested: Hi lovely, I loved just friends!! Since reading, all I’ve been able to thinking about is bestfriend/roomate Lando. Maybe you’re not able to join him for race weekend and he hasn’t heard from you, like at all. When he returns, he thinks you’re not home until he hears the sobs and realises something is really wrong. Maybe you’ve broken up with your boyfriend and Lando is standing on the other side of your locked bedroom door, absolutely in love with you and hurting because you’re hurting 🫠

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

📍 Miami

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 1,387,928 others

landonorris WE FUCKING DID IT!!!!! P1 in Miami!!!!! you bitches can't call me lando nowins anymore!!!

See 997,729 other comments

fan you can tell lando runs his own social media... ↳ mclaren it is our biggest burden

oscarpiastri well done mate! well deserved! ♥️ landonorris ↳ landonorris you next osc!!!

maxverstappen1 i said i'd have to collect my wins before you start coming for them, congrats winner! ♥️ landonorris

mclaren our papaya boy, you will always be loved (heart) ♥️ landonorris

fan WHERE IS Y/N?????? ↳ fan lando said in an interview that she couldn't come this week!!!! i'm sure she texted / called him

fan i know y/ns screaming and crying at the fact she couldn't be there this week

fan no lando / y/n hugging photo :((((( i miss my best friends

liked by fan, fan and 19,036 others

f1gossip Lando Norris' roommate and best friend Y/N L/N was caught in a heated argument with her recently debuted beau outside a restaurant in Monaco. The person who sent the photo in was too far away to hear the argument, but said Y/N seemed despondent to the situation, watching her boyfriend walk away before paying the bill and leaving quietly. Soon after, waiter's came to each outside table and told them Y/N sent her apologies for the commotion.

fan y/n :(((( was he the reason she couldn't go to Miami????

fan i'm gonna dox him ↳ fan i mean... i'm not gonna stop you

fan i have a knife.

fan i hope he's an ex boyfriend now wtf???

fan do you guys remember the pics of her and lando talking at padel and her bf was shooting DAGGERS at lando??? yeah somethings going on there ↳ fan we hate insecure men

fan lando i know u have money and connections i need this man to disappear

It wasn’t unusual for you to go radio silent after a race you weren’t able to attend, especially one on the other side of the world. Lando was used to a simple “congrats on P4!<3333” or wherever he had placed that time, and then you would be off to the land of dreams as he went about his day, shuffling between meetings and the media paddock. 

Today was different however. Lando had actually won. He’d won his first ever race and his best friend and roommate was virtually nowhere to be seen. He couldn’t help but feel a little angry at you, you knew how much P1 meant to him, the hours he had spent moping around the little apartment the two of you shared after a bad race and the rants he would go on when he placed P2 but was inches from that ever so elusive win, slipping just through his fingertips. 

He fired off one last text to you before sliding the phone back into the waistband of his fireproofs so he had his hands free to accept celebratory fist bumps and handshakes from every garage along the paddock. 

The lack of communication from you slowly slipped his mind after he had interview after interview, the kind and excited words of the journalists filling him with pride as they recall just how far ahead of Max he had been. Sure, his mood soured everytime someone mentioned that he got lucky with the safety car but his mother always told him that luck was something to utilise, not something to rely on. 

When he was finally free of the media’s hands, he checked his phone again. No messages from you which made him sigh, but one from Max. Opening their text thread, he’d dropped Lando a location pin for a well known bar in Miami along with the sentence “9pm, be there or be square, race winner”. 

–

To be quite honest, Lando doesn’t remember much of the party. Hell, he doesn’t even remember getting there, Zak having plied him with glass after glass of champagne during their debrief. He’s pretty sure Oscar had been the one to zip his fly up when they met outside their hotel rooms before the party, hands moving up to recentre his shirt so only a slightly scandalous amount of chest showed. 

Sitting on the private jet, again courtesy of Max, he thumbed through the last text thread between the two of you. You’d seemed fine, mentioning that you were going out for a meal with your boyfriend before the race started, and then… nothing. Complete and total radio silence. 

Maybe you were still with your boyfriend, too wrapped up in that jackass to notice the 17 messages Lando had left you since last night. 

God, he hated that guy. Ever since the day you had introduced him to Lando, he’d had a bad feeling. The guy was too touchy, arm wrapped securely and possessively around your waist like Lando was some kind of threat. 

And maybe he was. 

If he’d just manned up and told you the truth, that he’d loved you since the moment the two of you met one sunny day when he was still an F2 driver and you were the sister of one of his rivals, then maybe it would be his arm draped around you. 

Instead he had smiled, rolled over and showed his stomach like a runt at the bottom of the food chain, and watched from afar as the guy whisked you away under a mottled sunset. 

He felt a nudge at his side, eyes meeting Max’s curious ones. “Still no reply?”

He sighed, shaking his head as he pocketed his phone once again. “Maybe she’s busy…”

The excuse sounds weak even to his own ears, and when Max simply hums unbelievingly, he sighs again, mind torn in half at the elation of his win and the sadness of your ignoration. 

–

Sliding the key into the door, he listened ahead for any sign of life. The sound of dishes clinking in the sink, or your playlist of noughties hits that he always pretended to hate but would secretly sing along to when you weren’t looking. 

The silence that blankets him is unnerving. Too reminiscent of when he’d moved here alone and had all but begged you to join him, promising a rent free and easy going life. 

Checking the kitchen, he sees it’s exactly as he left it last week. The living room is barely lived in, the odd throw misplaced from the back of the sofa. His game room door is still shut, as is both his and your bedrooms. 

As he walks through to drop his suitcase off in his room, dreading the amount of washing that will fall out of it when he gets the energy to open, he hears a noise. From your bedroom, specifically. 

Checking his watch, he sees its 2 in the afternoon. Normally, you would be up and out by now, dragging Lando to whatever new fad you had seen on tiktok, or to the padel courts where he would inevitably lose to you. 

Leaning so his ear presses against the door, he can make out the shuffling of sheets. Maybe you had decided to do some laundry whilst you waited for him to get back. But then, the sound of sniffling joins. 

He freezes on the spot, ear still pressed haphazardly to the wooden door. The sniffles get louder and louder, soon joined behind an unmistakable sob. He can feel his heart drop to the floor, his stomach joining it on its tumultuous way down. 

You were crying. And he had no idea why. 

Pulling away from the door, his hand hovers the knob. Should he knock first? Should he just leave you to it? Normally, when you were sad, you would sneak into whichever room he was in, either reaching a hand out to lay against his back or sitting close enough so your thighs touch. He knew you needed to feel some part of him in order to ground yourself, and he always obliged. Oftentimes, the two of you would end up cuddled on the couch, some soppy chick flick on the tv as you gave into the warmth surrounding you, eyes closing as you rested your head against his shoulder. Despite how much it hurt to see you sad, he couldn’t deny these quiet moments were his favourite part of any day. 

Another sob breaks out, the sound so cruel and visceral, it was as if it had been yanked from your very soul. He forgoes knocking, hand twisting the knob harshly. He tries to push it open, only to be met by a force pushing back against him. 

You’d locked the door. 

In the 4 years of living together, neither of you had ever once locked your bedroom doors, knowing the other would knock before entering but still feeling comfortable enough to forgo privacy so the rooms could be open to the other whenever. 

“Y/N?” He calls out hesitantly, as one would approach an injured bird. 

The sobs become muffled, more shuffling of sheets before you call back to him, voice weak and torn along the edges. “Lando?”

He normally loved when you said his name, but the whine that accompanies it today leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He knows he should ask what’s wrong but he doesn’t know where to begin. He’s never not known why you’re sad, the two of you an open book shared between friends. 

He starts the only way he knows how. “Did you watch the race?”

More shuffling of sheets and when you respond, your voice is closer. “I’m sorry Lan, I didn’t get a chance to.” A moment of silence passes between the two of you. “How did you do?”

He wants to be angry. He really does. The one time you don't watch a race and he only goes and bloody wins it. “I won.”

“What?” Your voice wobbles, wondering if you were imagining what he had just said. 

“I won, Y/N. My first P1. 7 seconds ahead of Max.”

He waits for your response, probably some form of congratulations spoken through wood given your current mood. What he wasn’t expecting was for you to unlock and slam open the door, the both of you wincing as it bangs against the wall. “Say that again.”

He takes you in for a moment. Bloodshot eyes rimmed with violet, tears still making their way down flushed cheeks. You’re wrapped in your duvet, only your head visible as the duvet covers what is probably bedhead and your favourite set of pyjamas - flannel trousers and a t-shirt of Lando’s you had stolen at some point. 

Shrugging his shoulders, he smiles warily at you. “I won.”

Throwing yourself at him, he takes a moment to steady the two of you, arms wrapping around the mass of duvets surrounding you. He can feel you crying again, tears soaking the collar of his shirt. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Lan. I should have watched, I mean you won and I wasn’t even there to watch. I’m sorry, please forgive me.” You choke through the words, fingers digging roughly into Lando’s back. 

He winces at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin through the shirt, squeezing you even closer to him. “Don’t be sorry. Something obviously happened.” He uses the mound of duvet to pull you away, eyes flickering over your face. You look heartbroken in more ways than one. “What happened, sweet girl?”

Your lips quiver at the nickname, a hand poking through the duvet to reveal your phone. After 3 tries of using face ID, you huff, angrily putting in your passcode before turning the screen to Lando. 

He scans the screen. It’s an instagram post by some F1 gossip page. He recognised the user as one who often tried to paint him as some womaniser, taking any regular interaction with a woman as a sign he was sleeping with them. 

This post, however, is different. He sees you first, mouth in a tense line as you stare blankly at your boyfriend. Then he sees the caption. 

The anger returns, festering and dark, this time directed to your dickhead of a boyfriend. “What did he do?”

You sigh, locking the screen and pulling your hand back into the duvet cocoon. “I said I wanted to go home because your race was about to start. He got angry and accused me of being in love with you. I pointed out that I was literally on a date with him. He called me every name under the sun, told me we were over and then stormed off. I’m sorry, Lan, this isn’t good publicity for you.”

He scoffed, eyebrows raising skyward. “I dont give a fuck about the publicity, I care about you. How dare he speak to you like that?” He can tell the angers bleeding into his tone but he’s about 2 seconds away from finding out where that prick lives and beating him over the head with a padel racket. “Are you ok? Do you want to put on a chick flick? Order a takeaway? Go to a rage room and plaster his face across every breakable thing?” Moving closer, he rests his hand against your jaw, nudging it between your tear stained skin and the soft duvet. “Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”

Sighing, you nuzzle against his hand. “None of that, Lan. I just want to cry and forget what happened last night.”

Swallowing his pride, he nods. “Do you want me to talk to him? I can tell him we’re not in love with each other. Just best friends.” The ending comes out a little bitterly, but he hopes you’re too distracted to notice. 

You smile up at him affectionately. The simple curve is enough to make his heart flutter from where it had picked itself off the floor and wormed its way back into his chest. 

Reaching up to lay your hand over his, lacing your fingers between his, you sandwich it between the warmth he so craved. “I just want to be with you. You make everything better.”

He reflects your smile, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone. You wanted him, just him, and for now that was more than enough. 

[mrsbarnesblog]

i need help

summary: Rafe has a breakdown and he finally asks for help

word count: 1.4k

warnings: angsty and fluffy?, crying, mentions of drugs and alcohol, ward is the worst father (this is ward’s hate space btw💋)

a/n: I just want to baby him. so yeah, soft/clingy Rafe again because apparently, I can’t write anything else right now🙂

You were sitting on Rafe’s bed, patiently listening to his firm footsteps on the staircase. The room was dimly lit only by a lamp from the nightstand and you fought back an urge to fall on your back and fall asleep with your face in his pillow. 

Yet the harsh and cold voice made your head clear of your thoughts and you finally noticed your best friend walking into his own room. 

“What are you doing here?” Rafe grumbled at you as soon as he slammed the door, turned the lock and turned around, only to see you sitting on his bed.

“What?” His bloodshot eyes were burning holes into you and you innocently blinked at him, not understanding why he was acting so weird.

“I said, what–”

“Don’t yell at me.” You interrupted him calmly. “We wanted to hang out; it’s been a few days since it was just the two of us. You never complain when I come here.”

“Ye-yeah, fuck…sorry, I didn’t mean to.” You watched how Rafe started pacing around the room, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. He was almost shaking, his hair looking like a mess, and you would’ve thought that he was on the verge of tears. “I’m not in the mood right now, okay? We’ll do it another time. Can you leave now? I– I need to be alone.”

“No, Rafe, I’m not leaving. What happened?” Your brows furrowed, concern and nerves bubbling inside of your body as you watched how your friend and the guy you had a crush on was slowly breaking down. 

“Nothing. Nothing happened, Y/N.” He mumbled, still not staying in one place. “Just go.”

“I told you no.” 

 “Why can’t you listen to what I’m fucking telling you?!” Rafe snapped, stepping closer to you as if he were trying to scare you away. Yet you remained still in your place, not even flinching. Your brows shot up in silent question,  eyes were glued to his face, and especially to the way his own eyes became more glassy and watery with every second. “Fuck, fuck—I'm sorry, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to yell at you.” 

“Then don’t. You know I hate it when you’re doing it, Rafe.” You continued calmly. “Sit here and tell me what happened. I see that something’s wrong. It’s been that way for a long time, right? You’re acting differently… C’mere.” You patted the bed near you, giving Rafe a reassuring smile. 

“I don’t know what to do, Y/N.” Sitting near you on the bed and holding his head in his hands, Rafe spoke so quietly that you could barely hear him. “I’m going insane. I have issues and nobody hears me.” You slowly, as if you were touching a wounded animal, put your hand on his back, slowly moving it up and down. 

“Tell me. I’m here and I hear you. Please tell me what’s going on.” You tried to sound as soft as you could, moving a little bit closer. “You know you can trust me.”

“There’s something wrong with me. I— I have thoughts in my head that I don’t like. They’re bad. They’re wrong. I don’t want to be violent or feel these things inside of me but I c-can’t stop. They’re stronger than I am and sometimes they’re messing with my head.” Rafe’s voice cracked at the end and you felt the violent beating of your heart in your chest. He sniffed a few times, desperately trying to be strong in front of you and to hide the disgusting things that were eating him up alive. 

“Are they dangerous to others or to you?” 

“Both.”

You slowly nodded, processing the information and trying not to show the way it actually freaked you out. Did you know that Rafe struggled with anger and was not everyone's favorite person? Well, yes. He was nothing but sweet to you, though. You saw that he was a nice person, with a good heart. The only thing that he wanted in return was to feel needed, important, and loved. 

And you always gave it to him. 

But realizing that there were problems so much deeper and that he was now screaming for help because he could not live like that anymore made you wonder how you could be so stupid to not notice the signs earlier.

“Did you talk to your dad about it? Maybe anyone else? Or is it just me? ” You finally reached Rafe's face with your hand, turning him in your direction. You’ve never seen him even shed a tear, not to mention the state that he was in right now and it was shocking how much it hurt you too. The look in his pretty eyes was so desperate and so hurtful that you felt sick.

“He told me to man up. Cool, right? Can’t even do shit without disappointing him. I–I said that I have problems, but he just ignored it. He told me to rest and that it'd be okay.” He smiled at you, even though tears were still freely streaming down his face. “I just thought that maybe once he would hear me. See me. Not Sarah. I’m so fucking tired of it.” He shook his head and looked down. “So it’s only you. Nobody really cares about me anyway, so...”

“Oh, Rafe… Come here.” He wasn’t resisting when you dragged him closer to you by his arm. No, instead, he wrapped his arms around you as if his life were depending on it. You hugged Rafe back, slowly lowering both of you on the bed, until he was lying almost on top of you with his face in the crook of your neck and your fingers slowly brushing through his hair.

What you noticed is that Rafe was always cautious with physical contact. Sometimes it seemed like he tried to be closer to you, sit near you, or casually play with your hands or hair, but the next day he was completely dispant and hesitant. 

It was obvious that now Rafe lowered his guards; he let you see the damaged parts of him and he craved your touch because it was the only thing that could ground him. 

“I need help. I’m tired of this shit in my head, and I don’t want to continue ruining my life with alcohol and drugs…but it just calms everything down for some time and I don’t know how to come out of this circle.” Rafe sobbed harder, his arms wrapping around you even more, until you were closer than you'd ever been before. Your own eyes were filled with tears, but you refused to show them. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being such a disappointment. P-please don’t walk away.” 

You knew about Rafe’s lifestyle, but despite your words, he always made it seem like not a big deal, like something fun that he does at parties. Though now it was obvious that the facade that he had built was slowly falling down and drowning him in it too. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Rafe. It’s not your fault. But you do need help, darling.” You whispered, pet name rolling from your tongue faster than you could’ve processed it. “It’s important that you understand it. And I’m not leaving. It’s the last thing that should be in your head.”

“I do. I want to get clean. I want to be normal. I just don’t know how.” 

“That’s okay. I’m here for you, yeah? Your dad may not hear you, but I do and I’ll help you. We’ll figure it out together tomorrow, okay? Now you need to rest a little bit.” You reached the end of the bed, dragging a duvet and covering both of you with it. Rafe didn't move an inch from your warmth.

“You promise?”

“I promise, Rafe. You mean a lot to me; you know that, right? More than you think.” You whispered, soothingly brushing his blond hair again.

“You mean a lot to me too. More than you think.”    

[mariasont]

hi!!!!

I'm soooo in love your work. bimbo!assistantreader wil always have a special place in my heart!!!

Now i have this of idea that i think can work for either aaron or spencer, but basically bau!reader who kind of always wears the same type of outfit in the field that's always really modest. Buttttt when they kind of like "know" it's just going to be a paperwork day she likes to were skirts... short skirts and Aaron/Spencer are just feral for them...

Can either be fluff of smut... I trust you indefinitely xxx

Short Skirt, Long Day - A.H

a/n: hi hi hi hiiiiiii!!! ugh thank u sm i kinda took this an interesting route so let me know what you think!!!! im also heavily thinking about writing a smutty pt 2 for this but id love to hear everyone’s opinions

masterlist

pairings: perv!aaronhotchner x bau!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, suggestive content, aaron being a straight PERV!!! (im into idk man), aaron imagining scenarios he didn’t shouldn’t at work, idk this is quite different from my usual postings but i kinda fuck with it

wc: 1.4k

Aaron Hotchner loved paperwork day.

Days like these meant the frenetic energy of ringing phones and rapid footsteps is replaced by the soft drone of air conditioning and the occasional rustle of files being shifted. It’s the kind of morning he appreciated—time to breathe, to recalibrate without the air of an active case breathing down his neck.

But that's not why his pulse is thrumming more than steadily beneath his skin.

Hotch glances at the clock on his desk. It's early—too early for most of the team to be here yet, save for a couple agents whose faces barely register in his peripheral vision. His focus is elsewhere, fixed on a singular thought. Or, rather, on a singular person.

You.

Hotch leans back in his chair, exhaling slowly as a shameful type of heat rises to his face. It's a little pathetic, he thinks, how predictable he's become—it's not the work that makes these mornings bearable anymore. It's the anticipation.

The knowledge that, any minute now, the elevator doors will part, and you'll step out, wearing something that will completely dismantle his carefully constructed composure.

Hotch had noticed a pattern (of course he did, that was his instinct honed to a razor's edge). In the field, your outfits are a study in practicality: slacks, fitted jackets, muted tones--professional to a T. Nothing flashy, nothing that would draw undue attention. 

But in the office, when the cases are shelved, and the team is left to wade through stacks of paperwork... it's different.

And it drives him insane.

The image takes root before he can stop it: the curve of your thighs, tantalizingly framed by a skirt that seemed designed to test his limits. The way the fabric molds to you when you move, clinging in places that his eyes are all too quick to follow.

Hotch exhales sharply, clearing his throat as if that could somehow clear his mind. It's unprofessional--he knows this, knows better than to let his thoughts stray so far from where they belong but yet…

The ding of the elevator pulls his attention like a magnet, and there you are. His grip on the pen tightens instinctively, the knuckles blanching as his gaze locks on you.

You're wearing that skirt today--black, fitted, and infuriatingly short, hugging your hips in a way that leaves nothing to the imagination.

He tells himself to look away, and for a second, he manages it--his eyes dropping back to his desk, his breath coming out slow and measured. But that reprieve is fleeting. His gaze flicks back before he can stop it, drawn helplessly to the curve of your waist as you laugh at something one of the other agents say.

You're too good. Too sweet. Too damn oblivious to realize what you're doing to him.

And he knows it's wrong—knows he's toeing a line he has no business approaching. But the way his body reacts to you, the pull you have on him, is beyond reason. It's instinctual, raw, and completely out of his control.

He calls out your name. "Could you come in here for a moment?"

You turn, blinking at him with wide, curious eyes. "Yes, sir?"

"I need you to grab something for me," he replies, his voice level, though every syllable felt like a tightly coiled spring. He motions towards the cabinet near the corner of the room. "The Marcus file. Bottom shelf."

He was a terrible terrible man.

Without hesitation, you step toward the cabinet, crouching slightly as you begin to sift through the lower shelf. The moment your body lowers, his eyes start trailing down where the hem of your skirt lifts, just barely revealing the soft curve of where your thighs meet your ass. Then, as you bend further, shifting your weight slightly to reach deeper on the shelf, the fabric stretches taut, clinging to your ass in a way that sends a jolt straight through him.

Hotch's throat feels tight, his breathing shallow as he drinks in the sight before him. You're so close, just feet away, and the angle offers him an unobstructed view. The shape of you, the smooth expanse of skin that's always just out of reach in the field, is right there--so achingly close he feels like his chest might explode.

He knows if you dipped any further, your panties would be on display and he couldn’t help but wonder what color you had on.

You’ve always had a meticulous attention to detail, choices leaning towards deliberate but understated at the same time. In the field, you favored muted tones—greys, blacks, navies. But here in the relative safety of the office you allow a little more personality, more femininity.

His mind turns to your preferences—pink, maybe.

Hotch swallows hard, pulse roaring in his ears. The thought gnaws at him, insistent and unrelenting—he needs to know.

“Careful,” he says, feigning concern. “You might need to check further back on the shelf. Sometimes the files get pushed out of sight.”

You glance over your shoulder at him and he swears he could combust. “Further back?”

He nods, leaning back in his chair to appear casual, though his grip on the armrests were anything but. “Yes.”

You turn back to the cabinet, shifting your weight again as you crouch lower, leaning further to search the back of the shelf. The motion sends the bottom of your skirt riding higher, and for a brief, heart stopping moment, the lace of your panties is on full display.

It was a pink barely there strip of fabric.

His mind betrays him, conjuring images he knows he shouldn't entertain. He imagines his hands on you, running over the curve of his hips, gripping your thighs, sliding that damn skirt higher until there's nothing left to hide. The thought of you like this, pliant and completely unaware of the effect you're having on him, makes his pulse pound in his ears. He wonders what you would do if he were to push those panties to the side and slide a finger in you.

You shift again, leaning deeper into the cabinet as your voice drifts back to him, murmuring something about not seeing it. His jaw locks, teeth pressing together as he fights to maintain control. His fingers dig into the armrests of his chair, the leather creaking faintly beneath the strain. It's a futile effort, though; the pressure building in his chest, his body, is relentless.

The heat pools low in his abdomen, simmering and insistent, a sharp pulse of arousal tightening every muscle in his body. He's painfully hard now, the evidence uncomfortably against his slacks, but he doesn't dare move. His mind a blur of want--what he wants to do to you, what he knows he shouldn't do, and the precarious line he's treading just watching you like this.

The tension in his body seems unbearable, and for a fleeting second, he considers how easy it would be to walk over, to let his hand graze your hip, to tilt your chin up so you'd look at him and see the wreckage you've left in your wake. 

But he doesn't. He can't.

Instead, he forces himself to remain still, staying rooted, the self-restraint biting and bitter. 

"Are you sure it's under here? I still don't see it."

Hotch's lips twitch, the smallest shadow of a smirk threatening to break free on his face. He leans forward, feigning surprise as he picks up the file from the corner of his desk.

"Ah," he says, waving the file. "Looks like it's been right here the whole time."

You straighten abruptly, brushing your hands down your skirt and turning towards him with a soft laugh. "Hotch! So I was practically upside down in that cabinet for nothing!"

He shakes his head, giving a small chuckle to match yours. Not for nothing. The satisfaction still simmers low in his chest, a private indulgence he knows you'll never suspect--the movement was far from wasted.

"My mistake."

"Well, I guess we all have our moments. Let me know if there's anything else you need, okay?"

When the door finally closes behind you, he exhales shakily, the breath spilling out like a confession. Leaning back in his chair, he presses his fingers to his temples, his entire body tense with the effort of restraint. He feels unmoored, like a man balancing on the edge of a precipice, one misstep away from losing everything he’s worked so hard to keep under control.

But for now, he’ll settle for watching, for imagining, for wishing—knowing full well that nothing could ever come of it. And yet, as he glances at the door where you’d just been, a part of him wonders how much longer he can hold out.

It’s going to be an impossibly long day—but the most troubling part of all is how much he’s starting to enjoy the torment.

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[cameronsprincess]

been thinking about your boyfriend owing rafe and he takes you as payment when your man can’t pay up…

CW: male receiving oral, praise, degradation, hair pulling, rafe forces your boyfriend to watch him throat fuck you.

daydreams 𓆩♡𓆪 main masterlist 𓆩♡𓆪 taglist form

you’d known your boyfriend fucked up the moment he came home two weeks ago. he’d looked terrified, and his all around vibe was just off.

but when you’d ask him what was wrong, he’d brush you off and say “nothing, all’s good.”

of course, you should’ve pressed harder, but you trusted him, you didn’t think he’d actually gotten himself into real trouble.

but oh how wrong you’d been.

you knew trouble was brewing when rafe cameron had arrived at you and your boyfriends shared apartment, demanding to see jake.

“he’s not home!” you’d lie, hoping rafe would leave and just deal with it later.

rafe would glare at you, his blue eyes dark, and void of any light at all.

“now sweetheart, why would you lie to me like that, huh?”

“i-i’m not lying… he isn’t here.”

rafe would push his way past you and into your apartment like he owned the place. “jake! i know you’re here, bud. come on out.”

you stand by the front door, frozen in fear and unsure of what to do in this situation. you should call the cops, tell them rafe broke in, but that wouldn’t work, he had pretty much the entire police force in his back pocket. you could try and catch him by surprise, find something that would easily take him down, but then there’s thoughts of how badly he’d harm you if you failed at knocking him out..

jake emerges from the bedroom, hands held up in surrender.

“i don’t have the money… yet. i swear, i’ll have it in two-”

rafe tsks, shaking his head at your boyfriend. “i told you, jake. you had two weeks, or i’d take something else from you.” he pauses, his head turning and cold blue eyes landing on your face before he faces jake once more, “didn’t i?”

you hear your boyfriend’s sharp intake of air, your eyes finding his from across the room. you tilt your head to the side, silently asking him what rafe means by “i’d take something else from you.”

“j-jake? what.. what does he mean by that?”

rafe breathes out a laugh, “oh, you didn’t tell her our deal? i don’t know why that doesn’t surprise me, you always were a fucking coward.”

once more, you eye your boyfriend suspiciously while shouting, “what the fuck does he mean, jake! what the fuck do you owe him?”

jake opens his mouth to speak, but rafe quickly cuts him off.

“he owes me two grand. but, he agreed to let me have… something else if he didn���t have my money in that time frame.”

your eyes find rafe’s, “what… what does he owe you?” you ask, though you’re sure you already know.. and you don’t like the thought.

rafe smiles, and you swear it’s the first real smile you’d ever seen on the cameron boy’s face.

“you.” he replies calmly.

your eyes nearly pop out of your skull, your mouth hangs open as you try and take in what’s been said. your boyfriend offered you up as payment if he couldn’t scrape together the two grand. why the fuck did he owe rafe two grand? what the fuck was happening?

“m-me?”

rafe takes two long strides toward you, his right hand reaching out to caress your cheek, “yes, you. and now, it’s time he pays up.”

rafe gently pushes the front door shut, locking it before he places his large hands on your hips. natural instinct has you backing away from his touch, but the look in his eyes has you crushing that thought quickly.

“jake here is gonna watch while his pretty girlfriend chokes on my cock,” he pauses, turning his head to look at your boyfriend who stands fuming across the room. “isn’t that right, jake?”

you barely hear it over the harsh sounds of his breathing, but jake mumbles a low and angry “yes.”

“good boy, see you’re learning.”

rafe turns to face you again, his eyes softening slightly. “now, you’re gonna be a good girl and get on your knees for me, right? no fighting?”

you glance at jake and then rafe again. jake had fucking offered you up like a fucking object, and as much as you didn’t want to do this, you wanted to see jake suffer the way he was making you suffer. though, was sucking rafe cameron’s cock really suffering? he was gorgeous.. he had this aura that drew women in, and even though he was a complete fucking dick, you wouldn’t mind doing this, right?

without giving it another thought, you slowly lower yourself to your knees, your eyes never leaving rafe’s in the process.

“such a good girl, aren’t you?” rafe praises, his large hands working his belt before working his zipper and button of his jeans next.

he drops his jeans, letting them pool around his ankles before he pulls his boxers down next. you eyes go wide at the sight in front of you. long, hard and thick, already dripping with precum, just waiting to have your lips wrapped around it. he was the biggest dick you’d ever seen in your life, and thoughts of him shoving it down your throat or into your pussy had your thighs slick with need, your clit throbbing.

rafe grips his thick shaft in his right hand, his left finding home on the back of your head. he slaps the swollen, dripping tip against the seam of your lips, prompting you to open up for him. you quickly obey, opening your mouth and allowing him to slowly push the tip inside.

the taste of his precum coats your tongue, a low hum of appreciation pulled from your throat. rafe smiles down at you, “your girl gets turned on by sucking dick, that’s hot, jake. why’ve you been hiding her from everyone else? didn’t you know sharing is caring?”

you hear a low growl come from your boyfriend, and you risk taking a peek at him from behind rafe’s tall frame. jake’s fists are balled by his sides, his chest heaving up and down as he keep his eyes on the back of rafe’s head.

rafe’s hand tightens in your hair, pulling your focus back on him. “don’t pay attention to him, pay attention to me. be a good girl, and suck my cock like the good little slut i know you are.”

you nod your head the best you can, placing your hands in your lap as you begin to push your head down, taking his long, thick length down your throat. his tip kisses the back of your throat, pulling a small gag from you before you slowly pull back, strings of spit now coating his dick and pulling with your lips.

you suck in a sharp breath through your nose before you begin bobbing your head up and down, licking and sucking every last inch of him. rafe groans, his hand tightening in your hair again and pushing himself all the way down your throat and holding you there.

tears blur your vision and you shift on your knees. rafe slowly drags your head back before ramming himself back down your throat.

the room is filled with your gurgling sounds and rafe’s grunts of pleasure and praises.

“taking my cock so well, i might just have to keep you for myself.”

rafe’s harsh thrusts grow sloppier, his dick twitching in your mouth before his salty, warm cum coats your tongue and throat.

he slowly slips himself from your mouth, his thumb rubbing your cheek softly as he says, “good girl.”

he quickly tucks himself back into his boxers, working his jeans up his legs and fastening his belt while he turns to face your boyfriend who is now red with anger. “next time you owe me money, i suggest you pay up, or else i’m taking that sweet cunt next.”

i really had no clue how to end that? lmaoooo. but rafe motherfucking cameron. what a man. tbh, i woulda left with him, fuck my sorry broke ass bf who offered me as payment. is that wrong of me to say? oh well.😌 it’s rafe cameron, its allowed.🖤 alsooooo, this came out a lot longer than i originally expected but oh well🫠

[femmeroll]

hiii, could you write something about sevika corrupting a sweet church girl?

your blog is really cute btw <3

omg omg omg !!! i’ve been dying to write something like this, thank you for the request!!

sevika x fem reader

cw: religion, corruption, implied age gap, fingering, semi-public.

you’re a good girl. made good grades in school, good daughter, good sister, kind person. you never miss a sunday service. and if you must, you’ll be at the church for service on monday afternoon. you spend your life being pure, avoiding sin wherever it may rear its devilish head.

no pride or greed or lust. just simple, sweet purity.

that is, until you meet that lady.

every day on your walk home from mass you see her. maybe mid forties, dark hair, and easily six feet tall. she stands outside the deli every morning at 11:45 on the dot for her smoke break.

and every sunday morning she says hello, or good morning, or asks how ‘sunday school’ is going. it’s strange. you always give her a smile, say hello back, but she seems so condescending. like every word she says to you is secretly making fun of you.

you don’t really know her either, which is weird. it’s a small town, everyone knows each other. not…her thought. she’s just an impossibly rude person you see on sundays that causes you to remember the jesus was always kind to strangers.

it’s a cold january morning, sidewalks slick with ice. like clockwork, that woman is standing outside the deli with her cigar.

“careful, virgin mary. don’t want you slippin’ out here.”

okay, rude.

“i’m okay, no need to worry,” you respond, stopping in your tracks in front of her. the gaze she holds on you is almost uncomfortable. she’s staring down at you like she’ll burst out laughing at any moment. like the mere idea of you is just hilarious to her.

“sevika, by the way. my name.”

oh. sevika. okay.

“y/n. it’s nice to properly meet you. i’ve never seen you around outside of…this.”

“i’m not very social” she responds.

you smile. you certainly know the best way for people to find community in town.

“well, there’s a service on mon-”

she cuts you off with a scoff. “not interested. not the place for me.”

“why not?”

sevika leans closer, letting her lips fall near your ears.

“i like smoking, drinking, cursing, fucking. it’s not the place for me, princess.”

you clutch the cross around your neck with a gasp. this is wrong on so many levels. sinful, disgusting, unnatural…and yet you feel your face getting impossibly redder.

sevika stomps out her cigarette. “see you next sunday, princess.”

whether you like it or not, sevika evokes quite a bit of lust in you. her smirk, her piercing grey eyes, her muscles that stretch the fabric of her impossibly tight tshirt…you can’t help it. the forbidden fruit is strong. you suppose it’s all a part of the lord’s plan. send you a taste of homosexual temptation and watch you be a true follower.

you aren’t though.

you entertain her flirting, all her lustful stares, and your church dresses start to come above the knee just to give her something to look at. you don’t know why you like this so much. it’s gross. it’s wrong. it’s against god’s wishes.

but jesus christ, one look from sevika and that all goes out the window. every good christian moral, everything you’ve known to be true disappears the second sevika locks eyes with you.

after a monday evening service, you take your weekly stroll home. it’s dinner time, and sevika is working.

you open the door to the deli, seeing sevika behind the counter. you watch silently as she meticulously rearranges the meats on display.

“i could use some dinner, sevika” you say and she perks up, brief shock replaced with her signature smirk.

“princess. c’mon back, i’ll make you whatever sandwich you want.”

and she does. you’re sitting on a wooden stool in the back of the deli, making small talk. sevika’s presence feels strangely right, like these little moments were made to happen. maybe this was the lord’s plan after all.

sevika steps closer, towering over you.

“you have sauce on your lips. messy eater, huh princess?”

she takes her calloused thumb and wipes the sauce away, eyes never leaving yours. the air feels thicker and your face feels hotter. and without skipping a beat, your lips on on sevika’s.

she stammers a bit in shock, then immediately gaining back control. she wraps her hand around the back of your neck to pull you in deeper. you can feel her smirking against you, prying your lips apart and exploring the inside of your mouth with her tongue.

her lips feel like the missing piece of a puzzle, perfectly slotting against yours in a dance of passion and affection. she’s calculated with the way she kisses, making sure you feel every bit of her tongue gliding against your mouth.

“sevika-” you pant, pulling away. “we shouldn’t, i-it’s not right.”

“shush, princess,” she growls, “gods not watching right now.”

and maybe he’s not. so fuck it. you nod and let sevika pull your blouse off, pushing her head into your chest. she litters your chest in bites, reveling in the sweet moans you let out.

her hands make their way under your skirt, silently asking for permission to pull your slick panties down.

all you can do is nod, desperate and utterly dumb for her touch.

“so soft, princess…” she moans, “so wet. is that all for me?”

another nod.

“you gonna be a good girl?”

another nod.

sevika pulls hand away with an evil grin. “words. or you aren’t getting shit from me.”

“yes, it’s all for you. yes, i’ll be good. please hurry before i remember that i’m a woman of god and stop,” you groan.

her ring finger circles your swollen clit, spreading your folds and rubbing you down to your needy hole. one of her thick fingers is enough to stretch you out, walls tightening around her as she slowly moves in and out of your cunt.

“tight fuckin’ pussy…so pure and innocent, huh? just a good little church girl who likes other women fucking her greedy cunt?”

she chuckles darkly at herself, and at the way you get even tighter at her mean words. so humiliating, so blasphemous, so unholy. and yet every deep, deliberate thrust has you closer and closer to cumming.

“sevika,” you whimper, “i can’t hold it, please.”

“is that right?” she teases.

“you can cum, baby. but make sure to repent after.”

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

my love if i may request a whiskey with dbf!joel or dbf!bucky with the prompt “i’ve wanted this for so long” and mayhaps if it’s not too much to ask for but some breeding kink👀👉🏻👈🏻

Promises, Promises.

warnings - smut. cursing.

I figured I'd make this dbf!bucky, because i've done a dbf!joel fic for this celebration already. y'all, I read the words dad's best friend and go fucking feral. this one got away from me.

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

You're the last person Bucky expected to be at his front door at 3am.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"Locked myself out of my goddamn house, and my parents are still on vacation. Can I crash here tonight? Please?"

Who is he to turn down an offer that tempting?

"Course. Come on, it's too cold for you to be stood out here."

The two of you sit down on his couch, settling in to watch some TV.

"Bucky Barnes. Are you watching a romcom?"

He blushes, a slight flush creeping up his cheeks.

"If you tell anyone, I'll kill you. They're my guilty pleasure."

"It makes me like you more, if anything," you grin. He can't help but smile back at you, less embarrassed now.

"Look, my love life is fuckin' terrible. I live vicariously through these cheesy films right now."

"You? Terrible love life? Those two phrases don't usually go in the same sentence."

You're teasing him. Seeing if you can get a rise, hit the right button.

"Oh, shut it. Just because you're on a new date every week."

"I'm... what?"

"Your Dad seems to think you're dating a lot."

You quirk a brow at him, amusement curling at the corners of your lips.

"Is that so?"

"I'm only telling you what I've heard, honey."

He crosses his arms across his chest, biceps threatening to break free from the confines of his t shirt.

"He's wrong."

"Is that so?"

You roll your eyes.

"I have a friend, he's a guy. My Dad automatically assumes we're dating because we hang out. But we're not."

"And why not?"

"I don't know, I guess he's just..." you debate your answer, realising it's now or never. "He's not old enough for me. Not mature enough."

Bucky bites his lip, eyes scanning your face.

"He's your age."

"Exactly. Boys my age don't know shit."

He laughs, but it's dark and low, something brewing beneath the surface.

"You always were too smart for your own good, huh?"

Bucky's thigh is pressing into yours, the warmth from his skin seeping through. His rough fingertips glide across your arm, slow and soft. He's testing the waters.

"I shouldn't want this," he murmurs, barely audible. "Neither should you."

"But I do," you whisper. "So fucking bad."

"Me too."

Bucky grabs the back of your neck, smashing his lips to yours. You grip at his hair, his biceps, his shirt - anything you can get a hold of. You feel like you're dreaming, your filthiest thoughts coming into fruition.

He pulls you into his lap so you're straddling his hips, grinding down and panting into his mouth. You're both breathless, but neither of you want to be the first to pull away.

Bucky rips your shirt over your head, instantly attacking your chest with kisses. He's marking you up, claiming you as his. You should be worried about the repercussions, but you're not.

You pull his shirt off and rake your nails down his front, grinning when he shivers. Suddenly, Bucky stands up, setting you on your feet.

"Strip."

You blink at him, processing.

"Strip, baby. I won't tell you again."

You shimmy your pants down your legs, your underwear going too. Your mouth waters as you watch him undress, admiring the angles and smooth ridges of him. A Greek God.

Bucky stalks over to you and hooks a foot behind your ankle, sending you both flying onto the rug on the floor. He cushions your fall, not letting go of you once. Running two fingers through your wet heat, he groans.

"All for me, pretty girl? What did I do to deserve somethin' this sweet, huh?"

"Need you," you whine. "Please, Buck."

"I've wanted this for so long," he murmurs, lining himself up. "Fuck, you're a dream."

You both gasp as he slides home, your back arching and his jaw falling slack. Bucky rests a hand against the base of your throat, the weight grounding you back down to Earth.

"Need you to move," you choke out. "Fuck, I need it, Buck. Please."

"Oh you need it, do you?" he smirks. "My needy girl."

He snaps his hips into yours in long, careful glides, very aware of the effect he has on you. Before long, his restraint snaps, and his thrusts get harder, quicker, more frantic.

"Gonna fill you up, baby," he's muttering under his breath. "Make you mine. You want that? To have everyone know who you belong to?"

You're nodding rapidly, tears gathering in your eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

"How are we gonna keep this a secret if you're pregnant, huh?"

The thought makes you moan, a breathy, gutteral sound.

"You like that? Want me to make you a mommy? Fuck, I'll give you everything you ask for. I'll buy you a house and knock you up, you'll never want for anything."

His low, honeyed words throw you over the edge, squeezing and clenching around him. Bucky groans, deep and rumbled, the sound vibrating through the both of you. You find your releases together, panting and out of breath.

"House first."

"Huh?" he breathes, raising his head from your chest.

"Buy me a house first. Kids second. Maybe marriage in between."

He laughs, floating and content. You both know he meant what he said, not just a heat of the moment confession.

You stay wrapped up in each other for hours, on the rug in front of the fire.

You'll deal with the repercussions later.

[clitorphosis]

REAL MUSOR

Leon S. Kennedy x reader | 18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, NON CONSENSUAL SEX, STALKING, SOMNOPHILIA, SMUT, female reader, Leon is a cop and a little bit obsessive, breeding, he is icky, mutual masturbation (reader isnt aware of it btw), unprotected sex, creampie, vaginal sex, fingering, oral sex, entering and breaking, forced exhibitionism I guess?, dirty talk, pet names, light gaslighting, non consensual voyeurism, use of spycams, police corruption, non consensual drug use.

Summary: dating isnt really Leon's thing, to waste his precious time and money over a woman that may refuse to have sex with him at the first date isn't worth it. Sure, putting cameras in your apartment to jerk off of your body and breaking in to fuck you are considered much better ways to get what he wants - quicker too.

notes: Musor is a derogatory slang term for a cop (=pig), also it means "trash" :3 I don’t condone anything here in real life. :3 uhm, reblogs or comments and any kind of feedback are really appreciated!

tags: @withonly-sweetheart

Leon has a problem and it started many years ago. Not his alcoholism, no, that can be put aside as something to indulge when life hits hard. Guilty pleasure one would call it. Not his job too, he likes being a cop - it comes with its own advantages. His problem is much simpler and it also got nothing to do with his dick.

Dating apps. They aren’t his cup of tea; meeting new people is hard and nowadays most of them try to find someone on dating sites or apps. Wasteful, he is an employed man with a big responsibility so to court a woman that may be a gold digger would be foolish. Also, unluckily for Leon, one date is not enough to bring most women into bed and the prices are already too high so risking to find a parasite without any payback isn’t something straight out of his dreams.

Also, women don’t get wet if you are a cop unless they have a cop fetish. Apparently, uniforms and handcuffs are only cool in the bedroom. Not like he minds that, cause with time Leon found other ways to enjoy his women. Much more preferable ways.

Two or three knocks on the wooden surface with his knuckles, fingers ran through his blonde locks so they wouldn’t dangle in front of his eyes. Your door opens wide with your confused eyes set on his frame, not expecting any guests, especially a cop. A bad omen.

“Good afternoon, I am here to check. Someone complained about noises coming from your apartment at this hour, miss” Leon explains, showing a pearl-like smile. Too perfect, too cheesy, but attractive appearance always soothed people’s worries, being easy on the eyes makes things uncomplicated. Who doesn’t trust beautiful people? “It won’t take too long”

A pensive hum escapes from your tensed lips, but there is no other choice other than accepting this - you nod, letting him enter inside without any additional questions. Like taking candy from a baby. And you were dumb, which ended up playing nice for him.

The apartment is a studio one, not expensive too. That was expected, you look young, but not enough to have your own place. Renting at a cheap price in not notoriously good neighborhood suits you better.

When the checkup is finished, you seemed so worried to hear his eventual words or clear bullshit. Not every person is used to a cop’s presence in their own cozy little place. Suspicions are natural reactions, but not for you, still believing in that little story that he told you before. A blatant lie, only the dumb bitch would have believed that. You.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry—�� you were apologizing almost every time he would appear in front of you. And even now. Annoying, but also hearing your words filled with so much anxiety made him feel good. Really good. And any wrong word would make you cry easily. Which would be nice to see. He cut your quick rambling, waving a hand mindlessly as his eyes travel to shelves.

“Yeah,“ Whatever. Leon nods absently, finally crumbling to the urge to glance into your almost glossy eyes - with great pleasure enjoying his own reflection in them. His mind wanders to possible images of your face filled with tears underneath him, easily making his pants feel tight around his cock. He can’t help himself. “Maybe someone holds grudges against you, be careful”

Another bullshit, but still you appeared unsure and at the edge of his presence until he was out of your apartment. There should be kept a count of his successful lies. As a respectful man, it was hard not to thank you and wishing well-being before leaving. After all, it would be a bad touch to leave without a gift, right? Leon hadn’t actually thought these little cameras would be used today, but fate had other plans for you. In his defense, it was really hard not to set those little cameras in your apartment while he was ‘doing’ his job. Especially when you were so sweet to him. Weirdly enough, installing them was an easy and quick task, even simpler was to find crannies or shelves to put in these little cameras he had bought or confiscated. After all, it would have been a big waste to throw them away, right?

So sweet. You were asking for it.

An easy target too. And now many rooms were under his watchful eye; bathroom (the best view is there), bedroom and also in living room too. In a little time, Leon got to know your schedule, it wasn’t hard to remember - a simple routine, even a kid would be able to memorize it. Like a little TV show, he enjoys watching after work or during his rare vacations. Whatever you do on Friday morning, when you return home, and when you usually go to sleep. Or when you have your private time, masturbating in bed alone and filling his ears with your moans. Or even better, showering or resting in the hot tub, your tits and body exposed to him - like a nicely wrapped present that he needs to open one day.

The best part is - you aren’t aware of this.

You aren’t aware that many evenings when your fingers creep their way down to your pussy to part its lips and rub slow circles on already swollen clit under the sounds of cheap-acted porn actress’ moans - these evenings were shared with Leon. There is that arousing wet sound when your fingers stroke your leaking pussy. His attention easily glues to the screen, out of habit freeing his hard cock from the pants - it bobs and twitches in the air with already formed beads of pre-cum on his aching tip just begging for any kind of attention. Your lips would be nice, but a tight pussy even better. His fist cups it in a tight grip, slowly pumping his cock while watching the sight of your trembling and parted legs. And your moans, little breathless whimpers - his favorite. Sadly, this gets muffled by his moans, as his own strokes become rougher and quicker trying to keep up with your fingers. Leon knows the signs of your approaching orgasm, he knows everything about you too well. Watching like a possessed man as your toes curl from the growing pleasure, thighs snap closed around your wrist as your back arches while making more sweet noises.

He cums with you too, at the same time. His body tenses and his hand grips tighter around his hard cock. Eyes rolling back. Mind blank, intense orgasm hits him hard as usual. No other thoughts other than how good you are for him. And pretty. His breathing is hard and heavy, feeling his cum sticking to the skin of his hand and stomach.

The best porn he can ever see - special too, only for him. Putting such a show for him to enjoy after a hard day of work.

Feeling the stickiness of his cum on his palm and not being able to avert his eyes from your spent body. This brings him to his senses like an apple falling onto his head, a sweet idea. He needs more of you.

It has become a routine at this point.

Did he abuse his authority? Yes. Does he care? He doesn’t, because in other circumstances he would do that again.

Watching your body and getting off from this little show isn’t enough anymore. Doesn’t hit the same. Like a drug addict, searching for another dose and something stronger one can offer. He needs his hands on you. Going further, exploiting every opportunity his job gave him - it wasn’t hard to start breaking in without any traces.

Leon can’t be reckless nor impulsive, but to keep his hands to himself and not give in to a sweet fruit was hard.

Your sleep is short, he noticed that soon. You wake up at every little noise coming from different sources. That won’t do. This is not good and can’t be healthy for a young woman. On one of many visits to your empty apartment, to take a little present for himself or to adjust cams, an idea popped into his mind: why not put something in the bottles of water? The dose would be light anyway, this drug can easily knock out a big, burly man and Leon is here just to take care of you, in a boyfriend-like way. Not to overdose you.

Your apartment feels homely to him already, kicking off his shoes before walking freely around the place. He may be a cop, but not a pig. The anticipation was insupportable, months of waiting for your body, many concerns - not being really sure about the method and the dose. What if it wasn’t enough, what if it wouldn’t work, and many-many ‘if’. Leon had waited enough, there was a limit to his patience and it was already tearing apart with every passing second.

The mattress beneath you dips softly with his added weight, in the dark room the outlines of your figure are still visible, and the edge of your shirt is rode up and shamelessly exposes the flesh of your stomach - what a tease you are and you don’t even realize it. Your unconscious body, deep in the sleep, and he probably has all night to enjoy you. This heightens his arousal, not daring to touch you for a solid minute - not believing how lucky he is right now. Blood buzzes in his ears, hearing his own thoughts now: you, fuck you dumb, and need to cum in that pussy.

“I know you so well,” Leon whispers, his voice comes out shaky. What a man wouldn’t do to stuff a pussy. His lips carefully kissed yours, not being able to pull away his eyes from your peaceful face. Tracking out every little twitch in your features, but you are in a deep slumber. “like a book that I learned to remember. By heart. Inside… and out”

His hand lightly touches your neck, giving a brief squeeze, watching you gasp when he lets it go. Still asleep. Leon is testing the waters here.

“Oh, it’s alright, sweetie ” Leon whispers, not being able to hide his fascination towards your state. Cupping your jaw and tilting it to the side, like a doll to play and move around as much as he wants. “We are on camera, this is so important for both of us. Something to remember, right?”

This is wrong, of course, in the back of his mind someone whispers that Leon shouldn’t enjoy this so much - you are unconscious, not aware, but that’s the thrill. In any other circumstances, he could pull out a gun to force you, but the idea was pulled aside as the sight of your malleable state is much better. His fingers rubbed your thighs, pushing them apart easily so he could position himself in between. So soft, he can’t help but enjoy the sensation of your skin, his hand impatiently slips to push away the fabric of your underwear, to get a real glance and close of your not-so-aroused pussy. Too bad, but this is easy to fix. A mouthful spit of saliva would be quick and nice, a way to avoid a headache, but he changed his mind - your pussy is shaved. Leon whistles lowly, what a good girl you are. To bury his face in your pussy would be a nice start, after all, you have shaved for him, no? He is nice enough to reward you for this.

Shifting a little bit, easily manhandling your legs and placing them on his shoulders. Leon spits down a mouthful of saliva on your cunt, before leaning down with a long and broad stripe across your pussy, parting the lips with his tongue, groaning against your slit. Tongue glides across the folds, slowly warming your body up, like a hungry man trying to relish in the taste of your pussy so sweetly lingering in his mouth.

“Such a good girl, letting me play with you like that” Leon groans against your clit, it sends a pleasant vibration across your limp body. His hands grip tightly the flesh of your thighs, a normal person would have woken up to push him away, right? His mouth sucks on the clit, giving light bites with his teeth and your hips naturally try to ride him, messily bucking into his face with every rapid lick of his tongue across your sensitive bud.

Fuck, your reactions are cute, he wants more. His two digits push inside your hole, starting to move in and out of you shortly - making your body flinch again and a soft moan draws from your lips. He kept lapping across your slicked folds, his teeth nibbling on the sensitive nub, but not enough to hurt - his tongue laps away that bite anyway, not forgetting to suck your clit in between his lips too.

Your cunt gushes wetly around his fingers, they curl up against your walls, with the rough pace pumping and press on the velvety and wet skin, until he finds the spongy, sweet spot that made your hole clench tighter around his fingers. Soft and weak moans escape from your now parted lip, chest raises up and down rhythmically with every thrust. That’s a good sign. The taste of you and your natural body reactions entrances him, making his cock throb more in his pants, straining so hard and uncomfortable against the fabric. Leon pulls away from your now-soaked slit, impatiently freeing his cock from the jeans. It would be a waste to finish this so quickly after just getting a taste, fingers pull out of your hole roughly with a wet pop, your cunt left dripping, wet, and cold now like he took all the heat with it. Frankly, Leon does not care about your pleasure. Unlikely he will any time soon.

“Huh, you like this” Leon mumbles out slowly to himself, his hand gripping his cock and it twitches in his fist as Leon began slowly stroking it. Thumb presses on its tip, stimulating more pleasure through his body and letting out a breathless moan as his blue gaze surveys his work; your warmed-up pussy, more aroused than before. It glistens with your slick and his saliva on it. What an addicting sight. A light feeling of pride rose in his chest, as his hand flexed again and more beads of pre-cum formed on the tip, quick strokes smeared it along his sensitive and hard flesh. His cock throbs and aches to be inside you. Hell, Leon needs to stop before he cum over your unconscious state. Impatiently not noticing his own heavy breathing filling the air, he positioned his cock to your pussy.

“Who would have known you would be so fucking wet for me” he cooed huskily, rubbing his cockhead against your slicked folds, bumping against your clit. Your arousal is mixed with his saliva, it spreads easily on his veiny and hard cock - to use it as a lube. Easy and free, he doesn’t bother to buy one after all. His free hand grips your hip tightly, angling it to finally guide his cock into your neglected hole. “you really waited for me to use you, right? Just dying for more.”

Deep down, like every man, Leon prioritizes his pleasure. Who doesn’t actually? Good women should be eager to please and look nice for him. Attractive even. Unfortunately, your state isn’t the one to expect the eagerness. But there are advantages to this too: unconscious girls are much easier to enjoy. But still, giving a free pass to you isn’t something that will please him, no matter how good your pussy is. His pleasure has been always the most important element in the sex. Would not be fair to his former lovers too. He is so nice after all, any other man would have pulled out a gun to threaten you after breaking in to fuck you without putting a substance into some of your drinks. That’s an idea to keep for next time.

Your pussy feels so nice, your walls stretch around his length slowly. Leon imagined it differently, not so tight, but tighter it is, better for him. Warm heat envelops him almost in a vice-like grip, forcing a low groan coming from his throat. Maybe this wouldn’t be pleasant for you if you were conscious. But also, aren’t you so sweet and nice? Of course, you would have let him do that over and over. And if you wouldn’t - again, Leon doesn’t care. Your pussy engulfs him in so addictingly warm and to make this even better, your walls clench ridiculously tight around his cock. For a moment, Leon was not sure he would have been able to last long enough for him. Your pussy makes him dizzy, so much that he needed to take a pause, keeping his cock halfway through.

Leon slowly pulls out, leaving inside you just the head of his cock, his gaze is not on you anymore. He couldn’t care less about your state, but the sight of your pussy stretching around his tip is the one he can get drunk on. Popping it in and out, over and over until all he can hear are wet and filthy noises - and his own moans mixed with heavy breathing, while more slick gushing and now sinking his cock into you deeper and so easily. That didn’t last long, he hates denying himself what he needs. What he craves and now he craves to fuck you. And cum. Inside you. And he will.

“Taking me so right… fuck” Leon groans, burying his cock deep inside you, his hips meet flat against your ass. Slowly starting to roll his hips back and forth, deep and slow thrust, hitting his cockhead against your cervix.

This is addicting to him, worse than any kind of drug. Mindlessly mumbling out senseless praises, while his hips rock into you in quick thrusts, heavily breathing and not being able to look away from your leaking cunt. God, the images of you waking up and begging to stop fill his mind in a suffocating manner - his cock throbs inside you, another slam of hips. A hard gulp.

A man should be careful with his own wishes. Nails weakly dig into his biceps, not enough to leave half-moon marks. Even a kitten would have been able to leave a deeper scratch on his skin. But still, Leon’s hips stutter, realizing you shouldn’t move. In the dark, your eyes are half open, clearly fighting with the grogginess of the drug in your system and trying to orientate.

“Shhhh… easy there, sweetie. Be a good girl, get back to sleep” The tone of his voice is sweet and whisper-like, but the breathless lilt is still there. Your back aches weakly again, feeling him hitting your g-spot in slow and agonizing thrusts, but this isn’t enough to pull you out of your state. God your head is dizzy and the man in front of you is so blurry too. Heavy breathing escapes from your lips, swallowing hard the excessive saliva pooling in your mouth. It is hard to squint, hard to focus on anything. A side effect he didn’t know about, still not his fault.

“Not real, just a bad dream” Leon adds, his breath fanning across the side of your head, watching how your expressions shift weakly and eyelashes flutter as he slowly drags his cock out to bury it back in the same pace into your pulsing pussy.

“No…uhh…-not a dream…” your voice is so weak, meek, his dick fills your pussy entirely, every drag of it makes your body tremble and tighten around it more. You are easy to play though, mind is so fogged by the drug it would be easy to convince you.

Blue eyes almost spark in the dark, looking down at your confused and groggy state, his hand covers your mouth - he doesn’t need any noises other than moans and whimpers coming from you. Too distracting. You are clearly not aware of what’s happening, feeling the heaviness of your body dragging you back into the intoxicated slumber.

“…Just a dream. ” Leon repeats, enjoying watching you trying to push him away, your hands ghostly pressing against his chest in a weak protest. “Be a good girl, nothing bad will happen”

And these struggles make his cock throb in your pussy. So addicting to watch how the drug in your system is still kicking strong making your limbs return to being limp again, God, he was so close to just busting a load in you.

His pace quickens, becoming more ruthless and messier than before. He can’t stay here forever, unfortunately, but god he wants to fall asleep on you with his cock and cum buried inside you - to watch your reaction in the morning. All he can hear right now is the flesh-hitting sounds mixing with wet ones too. Your lips twitch, heavy pants and whimpers drawl out of them, while your pussy clenches tightly in a silent plea to fill it, not only with his cock, but sperm too.

God, and if you aren’t on the pill? What a nice present he may give you after this night. Getting you pregnant was enough for his hips to stutter in their pace for the last time, before shooting a hot load of sperm inside you. Burying deep inside, the warm cum fills your pussy almost to the brim, his mind is blank - focused how his cock pumped rope after rope inside you. When he is all spent, Leon slowly pulls out of you, and a disappointed whimper escapes from you too - too bad, he is not going to let you get your high. Too much work. His blue eyes watch how the cum oozes out of your hole for the last time.

The lights of the morning are particularly blinding, you’ve never noticed that before. Dryness in your throat. Like needles pressing inside every time you swallow down, aching for a gloss of water. The urge to throw up and to hide away from the rays of sunlight is overwhelming, not stronger than the heaviness in your body though. You force yourself out of the bed, dragging yourself to the bathroom was so hard, like a heavy bag instead of your body - it is already almost impossible to wake up and get your things done. Washing away the exhaustion from your face with the chilly water from the faucet. Your mind is foggy and not catching on to sticky feeling in your panties. Nonetheless, your body screams at you - your stomach feels turned inside out, messy, and used. And unsatisfied. Like you had the worst sex in your life, without getting your own high.

Your memory tries to flash out the sight of the dark room and blue eyes, being filled and hearing his voice whispering heavily, but you shake your head - pushing it away in your mind. Hiding it in imaginary drawers, - just a dream. Nothing more, you check your door every night. It is always locked.

Yes, a bad one, explains your state too. The nightmare does exhaust you easily after all.

[charliemwrites]

The long-awaited part 2 for ragdoll!reader.

I’ll be honest, I never intended for there to be another part, so I hope this is alright! I might add more in the future if the worms demand it, but for now let’s consider this the last part. Sorry!

If Price had any optimism that Ragdoll’s reaction to Konig was just a fluke - or perhaps some sort of initial, fleeting interest - he’s quickly proven wrong.

She’s utterly infatuated with him.

Constantly pressing herself close, rubbing her cheek against him and his clothes, bumping her head against his. She chirps and chitters and purrs at him, pupils blown out. Never seems bothered that he has trouble verbally responding; or seems to, though Johnny mentions they might be communicating at a frequency only cat-hybrids can hear.

Price has the briefest notion of keeping them separated. After all, Konig is a big combat placement that doesn’t seem much indulgent of his non-violent instincts. More human than cat - a complete opposite to their sweet companion kitty. It seems inevitable that something goes wrong and someone - likely the 141’s precious girl - gets injured. So naturally they try to keep the hybrids apart.

Try to coordinate schedules to keep her and Konig from passing each other, ending up in the same rooms or at the mess hall together.

It’s futile.

For one, she may be the sweetest little thing around, but she’s still a cat (or cat-hybrid anyway). There’s really no stopping her from going somewhere, especially on a base she’s had free run of for over a year already. Closed doors are blasphemy, and locks are a personal attack against her.

For two, her only job is to be a companion. She is not beholden to most military protocols like rank, SOPs, schedules, or duty. Meaning that, while she usually keeps to the 141’s routines out of desire to be with them, there’s nothing forcing her to follow along. Even as an emotional support placement, she isn’t required to be around them at any time; she always just wants to be. It’s why she’s so good at it.

And finally, mostly importantly here, there’s really just no telling her “no.”

Not with those big eyes that get so watery so fast. That sad curve to her mouth. The fucking mournful cries when she’s been denied and she doesn’t understand why - nor does anyone really have a good reason.

(“He’s twice your size” is apparently not a good reason. Neither is “he could crush your skull in one hand.”)

Worse still, it’s not even that she’s misbehaving as a reason to keep them separated.

While she does present more cat than human in a lot of ways, she understands English perfectly. She can read and even write if needed. Vocalizing human speech is beyond rare, but she has once or twice.

So she knows the hard and fast rules. Understands that she can’t interrupt drills or exercises. That there are regulations for the range should she ever venture out there. That she has to be quiet during briefings. And she does all of this - just while also being as close to Konig as possible.

She sits in the grass or on a perch watching the boys run and call to each other. And as soon as they’re done, she’s up and flitting to his side, head tilting this way and that. She shifts into her full-cat form during briefing to sit on his lap. Even follows him out to the range, lying in the grass next to him with tail swishing and headphones on, while he fires the rifle.

Never mind any free time.

Members of both their teams keep finding them cuddled up together all over the place. In the rec room on a couch, in patches of sun beneath windows, in the grass by the running tracks, even in Konig’s room on base. Most often with Ragdoll lying on him, plumed tail curled around his arm or leg while he rubs her back or ears.

Sometimes they hear him talking to her, low and quiet. She meows back on occasion, but he doesn’t seem to mind the lack of verbal response while he rambles.

And the first time anyone sees them wrestle is nerve-wracking. They hardly make a sound the entire time, rolling around on the floor in a tangle of limbs and fluffy tails. Konig always lets her win - even laughs when she gets her sharp little teeth in his arm. (It’s the first anyone on his team has heard him laugh like that and they’re a bit startled.) The entire 141 pretends not to be on high alert - except Johnny, who watches with ears perked, eyes darting between the two cats.

Price doesn’t know what to make of it. Of course he’s not upset that she’s connected with another hybrid. Johnny is usually the only one on base, and while they’re close, Price knows it probably isn’t the same as her own species.

That she’s so… preoccupied with Konig is, well.

“Is she… ya know…?” Gaz asks at one point.

When Price arches an eyebrow, he makes a vague, nonsensical gesture.

“In heat,” Gaz mumbles awkwardly.

“Shouldn’t be,” Price answers. “She has an implant.”

A hormone implant keeps a hybrid from going into mating cycles or getting pregnant - but it doesn’t stop them from bonding.

Kate is the one to bring up the possibility after speaking to her sister in law. Ragdoll spent time around other cat-hybrids before she was placed with the 141, but never reacted to them like she does to Konig.

It’s confirmed when TF-141 and the KorTac squad deploy for their mission. Ragdoll is near inconsolable. Not actively crying (most of the time) but lethargic and sad, with low appetite and lots of big, long sighs. Her ears never perk more than half-mast for the month they’re gone. Even taking her off-base back to Kate’s sister-in-law for a little while doesn’t seem to help.

The day they come back, she’s the most lively anyone’s seen in a month. Bounces between her four team members incessantly, checking that they’re okay, making little noises in the back of her throat. They happily drop kisses on her head, let her nuzzle up beneath their chins, hug her close. Rub at her ears and squish up her cheeks. Price even picks her up, rubbing his bristly cheek against her temple.

Then Konig steps out.

She wiggles, making a nervous, upset noise. Price sets her down and she bolts into Konig’s arms, crying loudly and pawing at his hood. And to everyone’s shock, he lifts it enough for her to wriggle under with him.

If there was any question that he felt the same way - it’s answered.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader, Johnny "Soap" Mactavish x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, John Mactavish, Reader

Summary: Friends and coworkers, Sgt. Mactavish and Lt. Riley have one thing in common: how much they want you, though one is less vocal about it. During a night out, you think you've secured one lover, but suddenly you are leaving out of the bar with both as all that intense attraction comes to a head.

Word Count: 8.8k

Warnings:

“Aye, would you look a’ that,” the Scottish sergeant nudges the silent and skull-masked lieutenant at his elbow, nodding towards the subject that has caused his sudden outburst. “She decided ta come after all.”

Two sets of eyes lock to the door as a familiar face steps foot inside that dingy little hole in the wall bar right outside the base, the one that the boys happen to frequent quite regularly whenever downtime is available. Tonight is one of those nights where most of the squad is here, ready to let loose for the first time in months and though you don’t always feel the need to imbibe with your teammates, tonight…tonight just feels different.

“Fuck, she does look a sweet thing tonight, doesn’t she, L.T.?” Sgt. Mactavish says with an unsubtle lick of his lip just before he takes another big swig of his lager, his eyesight lingering a bit too long on your legs, risking him getting caught. 

How is he supposed to look away when that dangerously short denim skirt and tight little top you’ve decided to wear leaves barely anything to the imagination, that gorgeous figure of yours on display for any hungry beast to devour with his gaze?  

“Settle the fuck down there sergeant,” Lt. Riley shoots back with a lilt of agitation, his sight narrowing with the furrowing of his brow under his black balaclava as he stares pointedly at the younger officer, “ya know the fuckin’ rules about fraternization. Ya really gonna risk it all on a recruit?”

A snort exits out of the scot’s nose as he sets his glass back on the tabletop with just the foam from his beer pooled at the bottom. “Ye sayin’ ye wouldn’t try an get a piece ‘a that if ye had tha chance?” he snickers out the question as the lieutenant raises the bottom of his mask before grabbing his own glass, ready to bring it to his lips. “Guess all the times I’ve caught ye lookin’ musta been my imagination then.”

Lt. Riley pauses with his cup half raised. “Drop it while you’re ahead, Johnny,” the command is firm and he continues on with his drink, hiding behind the disguise of his stoic demeanor to convince the sergeant that he isn’t gnawing at the bit to get another glimpse of your curves in that revealing little outfit as now you’ve given him so much silky flesh for his eyes to devour. He has to bite his tongue hard to keep himself from losing it. 

“Rules be damned, ye know you’d hit if ye had tha chance,” the sergeant whispers under his breath as he waves over the waitress to order another round for himself. “ ‘sides, they’re more guidelines anyways.”

The lieutenant is never going to admit it out loud to the cocky sergeant, but he hates how right he is with his statement. There is something about you he yearns for, that draws his eyes constantly, that keeps him filled with fantasies enough to fuel each one of his late night wank sessions for months and months now. He’s becoming insatiable even though he’s better at keeping a straight face, but inside he is burning just to get a piece of you. Too bad there is no way in hell he’d ever get the chance… right? 

You can feel eyes on you from the moment you enter the establishment, though at first you aren’t sure where they are coming from until you pass by the table where a couple of officers sit on your way to the bartender and you hear the distinct sound of choking. From the corner of your eye you can see Sgt. Mactavish sputtering into his glass, coughing up the beer that’s gone down the wrong way as the lieutenant next to him smacks his bicep and you have to speed up to hide the smile spreading across your mouth.

Drink secured and in hand you cross over to one of the tables sequestered by your company as a small group of privates wave you over and you take a seat, still keeping an eye on a couple of specific officers. This isn’t the first time you’ve noticed certain behaviors from them whenever you are around; at this point it’s almost obvious that they are taken with you, though they still pretend that they are hiding it well.

You like that attention, almost crave it. It’s a strange little game that you can’t help wanting to play with them, but more than that you want it to lead to something. Just a night, one night, to know at least one of them biblically; that’s all you want.  

Every once in a while as you sit there drinking and joining in bits of cheerful conversation, you’re sure you catch them stealing quick glances your way while the other is distracted. You start to wonder: what would it take for either of them to ever risk breaking the rules just to have a little something with you? 

You study them for a while and the two have really been putting them back. All that liquor has to be lessening their inhibitions, evident by the way they start getting sloppy with their glances. Now, instead of sneaking peeks in your direction, they are lingering a bit too long and if you time it right you just might catch them in the act.

The later it gets and the more liquor that snakes its way down your throat, the more bold it makes you and soon you’re thinking about ways you can put that question to the test. You’re not shy by any means, but you know when to play your cards and when to hold your hand and right now you think it’s the perfect time to go all in. If you can just get either one of them alone and make a move, maybe that would be enough to have them give you what you want: a night as their plaything.

Sure enough, not even a few minutes later you lock eyes with the sergeant. It’s only for a moment before he quickly diverts his gaze, but not before you pop off a sly little grin that you know he can see. There’s a reason behind your smile that you know he is able to read. In that split second that your eyes connected, even in the dimly lit bar, it felt like he was trying to undress you with his gaze and now he knows that he’s been caught red handed.

Oh yeah, this is your moment and you are going to take it...but how? 

How are you meant to make your move if neither has been on their own for long enough for you to get close? It’s like they are purposely making it more difficult for you than it has to be… at least that is until you watch Sgt Mactavish quickly stand to his feet, finish the last swig off his new glass, and take off in the direction of the restroom. No clearer sign could be given; this is the only chance you’re going to get and you know you have to take your shot.

It’s now or never. 

Abandoning your drink, you wait a couple minutes before slipping out of your seat and away from your table to make a beeline straight behind your target. The closer you get the harder your heart pounds in your chest. What is your plan once you corner him? There isn’t one, not now that you’re closing in on your goal. This could all blow up in your face, but at least you have to try; the punishment will be worth it.

Closer and closer the door gets until you are on it. Heartbeat in your ears you slowly and quietly open the door and peek your head inside. Your eyes clock only a singular pair of feet and with a quick glance behind you at the rest of the bar, you open it fully and step inside. With the handle still in your hand, you back yourself into the door to softly close it and engage the lock. 

The sound of flushing and the zipping of a fly makes you lose focus before you can finish making sure you won’t be disturbed as the sergeant comes out to see you standing there completely out of the blue.

“Did ye get lost lass?” the scottish sergeant questions playfully as he crosses the small room to the sink.

There’s only silence, his question is left unanswered as you decide that this is the time for action, not words. He isn’t aware that you’ve made your way over to him until it’s too late and you have your hand pressed firmly right to the middle of his taut chest, pushing him back into the wall right next to the sink as you move in close.

“What’s all this about, hmm?” he asks curiously, trying to keep calm under your touch.

You look up into his face, a gleam in your eye that he can’t ignore. “You know what this is sergeant,” you smirk, teeth looking more like fangs ready to sink into his skin, “or do you think I’m oblivious to how you’ve been looking at me?”

Subtle isn’t your strong suit when the liquor starts rushing through your system and right now you are using that to your benefit. Bright blue eyes stared back into your own, a spark as if from a match igniting within them that shimmer through the irises as he stares back at you. 

“Been wonderin’ if ye would pick up on that,” he says as he smirks right back at you, not trying to hide anything now that he has been read to filth. “It’s been gettin’ harder and harder to be coy when yer ‘round.” 

What is he supposed to say again? There is something he should be telling you right now, but he can’t remember as your body presses into his. No, that’s not entirely true. He knows what he needs to say he just desperately doesn’t want to say it, not now when his hands are getting their first real feel of all these curves he’s been dreaming of having under his touch for so long.

But he has to speak up, if only to cover his ass later.

“We shouldn’t, ye know the rules and…” he hesitates with a shuddered breath as his fingertips connect with a bit of skin along your hip and you promptly cut him off.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” you say.

The movement of his hands stops and he looks into your face. “Yer serious?” he questions with a lick of his lips, his jaw shifting as he impatiently waits for you to reply.

You can’t help but smirk. “As a fucking heart attack, sir,” you murmur as you lean yourself into his hands so that he has no choice but to keep them on you. “I know what the rules say, but I don’t care, not tonight. I want you, so what the hell are you gonna do about it, hmm?”

You take his hand in yours and bring it up to your breast, placing the palm directly over your shirt and closing his fingers around the tissue. Watching his hand closely you can see it twitch as if he is struggling with himself on whether he should remove it or keep it there and maybe do something more. 

You look back up into his eyes. “Gonna let this opportunity pass you by sergeant?” you ask, laying the seductive tone on thick for good measure. “I thought you were a man of opportunity.”

Well goddamn you don’t have to tell him twice. The blood racing violently through his veins makes his temperature spike as he grabs you by the waist to spin you round so that your backside rests against the edge of the small sink. He stares at you silently and you fear that you may have overstepped, but then his gaze shifts. 

“Ye best know what yer askin’ for,” he says.

“I do,” you respond. “So are you going to keep standing there, or…?”

Without another word he picks you up with little effort, his biceps straining against the sleeves of his t-shirt, and sets you on the countertop next to the sink. Your legs are already open, but he parts them further with his hip so that he can slip himself between them, hiking up your skirt so that it sits on your waist and leaves your panty-covered pussy exposed. Immediately his hand harshly catches you by the back of the head, making you gasp in response to his roughness.

My, he is an eager boy, all ready to play.

He stares at you, chest heaving pronouncedly up and down as he feels like he can’t take a full breath, the focus somewhere else in his body now. You are caught up in the moment of peering back into those baby blues as they gaze back at you with an intensity that makes your heart pound faster. 

Is it getting hotter in here or is it just you? You can’t tell. The haze overtakes you and the next thing you see is his face leaning in silently and suddenly your mouths are connected together, instantly breaking that tension in the best fucking way possible: with a moist, sticky embrace that has left little room for breathing.

His grip in your hair is strong, holding your head in place so there is nowhere for you to turn and you are forced to accept the brunt of his need on your lips until you can feel them burn the harder he presses. There is stubble along his jaw that pricks your cheeks and the skin around your mouth, adding another layer of sensations to the mix already working on your lips. The taste of the cheap beer that he had just chugged is still on his breath, crisp and hoppy and it hits your tongue with its sharp bite, but it does little to deter you from taking every ounce of his embrace.

Your own hands run up the back of his neck through the cropped bits of hair around his mohawk. The feeling of your fingers against the short hairs make that cocky bastard shiver before melting into you and you sigh into his mouth at the delicious reaction. Is it that easy to make him fold? Oh, you are going to use that against him in the future.  

Strong fingertips bore themselves into your hip, pulling your pelvis more flush against his and fuck if there isn’t something hard already pressing back against your sex; it does feel good to your inebriated brain to rub your barely clothed pussy against the bulge forming through his jeans.

“Shit, ye tryin’ to make me blow right here? Haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet,” he says playfully with a hiss against your parted lips.

Your hips roll into him again. “Guess you better get me the fuck outta here quick sergeant,” you shoot back, “cause I’m not stopping. Gotta itch that needs to be scratched something terrible.”

Catching your bottom lip, he pulls it out of that mischievous smile it is currently contorted into and sucks it between his teeth to give it a nip. “Ye are full of surprises, lass.”

“You have no fucking idea,” you whisper onto his mouth before you are back on him in another flurry of heated, frantic kisses that make you lose track of everything outside of his mouth.

“Ehem.”

At some point the bathroom door had opened and closed, though neither you nor the sergeant had taken notice of the prominent squeak of the hinges. Both of your heads unlock and turn towards the sound of the familiar voice where the imposing figure of the lieutenant takes up the entire frame, his arms crossed over his chest as he stares back at the mess you two have already become. 

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as anxiety sets, making you momentarily forget what you know and fear that this is going to ruin everything for you…until you see it. There is a sparkle you detect in those dark eyes, the same one you’ve seen before. Even with his stoic posture, you know that this isn’t a reprimand that’s coming and it makes you feel at ease.

“L.t.” the Scottish sergeant greets him. “I… I mean we…” 

Lt. Riley doesn’t say a word as the man still between your legs struggles to come up with some explanation for what the lieutenant has just walked in on and as he does you notice that the masked officer isn’t paying him any mind, instead he is staring straight at you. You are full of fire tonight now that you have a bit of liquid courage in you and that makes you prepared to do whatever you need to to get what you want. Instead of letting the sergeant flounder on, you interject.  

“See something you like, lieutenant?” you ask as you keep your eyes locked to him. 

Sgt. Mactavish turns his attention back to you, surprised by your attitude. “What?” you ask him with a chuckle. “Did you not know that the lieutenant here looks at me the same way you do? Or has he been able to fool you?”

Pushing back the sergeant so that you can get to your feet and straightening your skirt back down to at least cover your ass, you make your way over to the other officer currently present in the small space. Those striking amber eyes never leave yours as he looks down at you through the space in his balaclava; this is the closest you have ever been to this beast of a man, but instead of being intimidated at all by his impressive size, you are only thinking about climbing him like a tree.

What’s happening? 

Before you can stop yourself, you blurt out the thought that had just burrowed its way into the front of your brain without even thinking. “You know…there’s enough of me to go around if you want,” you say. 

That strong jaw shifts beneath his mask; is that a smirk you can nearly make out through the fabric? “Is that so?” he questions curiously, that low, gravely tone sending a shiver down your spine. “What makes ya think I want anythin’?”

You chuckle again. “Fine, then tell me I’m wrong, but I can’t help wondering why you would follow us in here,” you push back. “To piss? I doubt it; you haven’t even tried to move from this spot. To catch us?”

You pause, but he doesn’t interject. “I don’t think that’s it either,” you say with a smirk.

Lt. Riley knows you can be strong willed when you want to be, he’s seen it time and again during training and in the field, but now that it is directed at him it is something else… something that is making him weak the longer you talk. 

“Well?” you ask, not letting yourself back down. “Are you going to fess up?”

Several seconds of heavy silence permeate the space and yet the lieutenant still doesn’t speak, not even to confirm or deny your suspicions which already speaks enough as is.  

“That’s what I thought,” you answer yourself with a shake of your head.

Taking a step towards him and extending your pointer finger you poke the tip directly into his sternum as you look up at him through heavy-lidded eyelashes. Even from that one pressure point you can feel how fast his heart is pounding and fuck does that feel like some sort of accomplishment in itself.

“Don’t think you’re any slicker than Sgt. Mactavish over there,” you say under your breath. “I can feel your gaze lingering on me all the time, lieutenant, and I’m certain it’s not because I’ve done anything wrong. Are you going to try and deny that? Come on, sir, tell me I’m wrong.”

Standing back, Mactavish watches from the sidelines as you put that massive man into his place and fuck does that make his heart skip a beat. Strong-willed women are the Scots one weakness, someone to push back when he shoves and give him a run for his money. Just the way you were kissing him seconds ago he knows he would be absolutely knackered come the morning and he desperately wants to get out of here to get started on that as soon as possible. Goddamn, if he gets any harder he is gonna rip through the zipper of his jeans.

You push the lieutenant some more. “So, how about you stop undressing me with your eyes and just do it for real,” you challenge. “Or is your hand enough to keep you satisfied?”

“Watch your tongue, luv,” he says. 

The lieutenant is struggling to find the words to tell you off, but presented with something he desperately wants they simply won’t come to him. So there he stands, silently staring as he comes to terms with the fact that he is throwing caution to the wind and taking what he wants. The only thing that has him hesitant is the fact that you were just wrapped around Johnny.

Sensing that delay you turn your attention back to the only other person in the room with an idea even more insane than actually trying to approach one of them in the first place, but opportunity keeps knocking and you are going to keep answering. 

“What do you think, sergeant? Think we could have another join in with our fun?”  

If it will get him a chance to have you, Mactavish is willing to do anything, even if it means he has to share. It’s not like it’s with some stranger; LT is a friend, his colleague, a blood brother. Actually now that the idea is presented before him, he has to admit that it doesn’t sound half bad. He wants to fuck you, but maybe he wouldn’t mind watching you be fucked too.

“I can share,” the sergeant says with a smirk. “What ‘bout ye, LT?”

Turning your attention back to the lieutenant with a smug grin on your face, you wait for his answer. Lt. Riley shakes his head and follows it with a defeated sigh; this is a terrible fucking idea, but god damn is he in it now. That tension that has steadily been building since you got in close finally comes to a head and the need to take you is overwhelming. All that yearning he has done from afar makes his hands tingle at the thought that they can now be filled with you. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” he growls as he gives himself over to his desires and wrenches that god-forsaken mask above his lips urgently, an arm snaking its way quickly around your waist as he turns you both around and shoves you into the wall directly to his right. Instantly his firm, bulky body is pressed tightly into your curves as he lifts your head by the chin and meets your lips with a feverish intensity that sends your fucking head spiraling.

He is pressed in hard, his kiss even more greedy and desperate than the sergeants had been as he steals every bit of your mouth with his own over and over again, rough and desperate being the signature left on your lips until they are on fire from the friction and you can’t breathe.

“Do ya even know how much I’ve fuckin’ wanted to do this?” he groans into your mouth, the feral lust in his words palpable on your tongue. “Since the moment ya arrived I’ve been fuckin’ chompin’ at tha bit to get at ya. Now that I have ya, I’m gonna get my fuckin’ fill, pretty girl.”

One of his large hands slips down into the back of your skirt so he can fill his palm with as much of your ass as he can hold, pulling your hips forward so that he can grind himself against you. You can feel his cock growing hard the longer he is pressed to you; it’s throbbing on your bare thigh as his assault on your mouth makes it impossible to even think of pulling away.

If it had only been one or the other you would have gladly fucked them right here in this filthy bar bathroom, but there is no way to take full advantage of this opportunity presented to you in such a tight space; you all need to go somewhere that will allow everyone to easily get involved in the screw-fest that is about to happen.

“Who’s room’s closest?” you murmur through his kisses burning across your lips as a damp heat gathers between your thighs. “We need to go.”

There is another warm body at your elbow now, moving in against you as the sergeant nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his lips desperately trying to make purchase with your warm, silky skin; he was getting lonely waiting for Simon to finish getting that first bit of contact and he needs more. 

Fuck, is it good to be you right now stuck in the middle of this lust-filled sandwich.

“That’d be me, sweet,” the sergeant groans into your ear, finally answering the question that you had almost forgotten you’d asked.

You break away from the lieutenant long enough to give Mactavish a proper kiss for giving you what you wanted, a little treat for being good before you put the question to the lieutenant. “Are we going or not?” you ask him, hand reaching up to outline his strong jaw with your fingertips.

The touch from your fingertips makes his skin burn under the contact and he is ready to drag you out this instant. “Johnny, let’s go,” he agrees and you all quickly exit the bathroom as inconspicuous as possible, which with the way your cheeks are now flushed bright red and the two men stalking behind you tug at the crotches of their pants is a feat in itself, but somehow you manage… you think anyway.

The moment you are all outside the heat-packed bare and into the cooler night air, the change in temperature seems to fuel your giddiness. No matter where you turn there is a hand or an arm around you somewhere, pulses racing violently that can be felt through all the touches of skin to skin like a drumbeat to make you all walk faster until finally the base comes into view.

But amongst the flirty touches there is a bit of secrecy that the two men share between them, whispers that you can’t quite make out as they keep you preoccupied and you leave it be as you can’t be bothered to care what they keep murmuring about to each other.

You've barely clambered your way inside Mactavish’s room before the tension of the moment can no longer be kept restrained. The door is flung shut with a bang and your body is immediately pinned to it, each man claiming a side of you, desperately exploring every inch of your curves through your clothes as they move in closer. Your needy bodies grind against one another like animals in heat, rubbing and touching, greedy hands roaming until you three are nothing more than a tangled mess of hot, glistening skin covered by a thin layer of fabric.

Lt. Riley is the one to take the lead as his fingers dart to your skirt, lacing them into the waistband and ripping the small piece of jean fabric down off your hips until it crumples to the floor at your feet. You flash him a smile as you pull his mask up and off his head so that nothing restricts you from getting at his lips. You barely have time to register the coif of dark blonde hair and stark features that get revealed to you as you are immediately standing taller on the balls of your feet to bind your mouths together in a kiss that sets his soul on fire. 

A pair of rough, weathered hands glide across all this new skin available to their touch, capturing as much as they can hold, playfully flirting across your lower abdomen and the seams of your panties that still cling to your form for the moment before they too find their way onto the ground. 

Not one to miss out, the sergeant's hands splay up under the bottom of your shirt with fingers that have a need to feel even more skin. You release the brown-eyed lieutenant and lick your lips to get the last of his taste off with your tongue before turning to the other and that spunky scot darts in before you can take a full enough breath to fill your lungs. 

The back of your head bounces off the door as he aggressively takes your mouth as if it is his property, only pulling from your lips long enough to jerk your top and bra up and over your head in one smooth motion, throwing them both to the ground behind him before he dives back in. 

Your wrist is in the lieutenant's grasp now as he forcefully tugs at it, bringing it into place over the massive bulge tenting the crotch of his jeans. The stiff peak meets your touch and bobs in rhythm to match the pounding of his heartbeat and you rub the swell before cupping your palm up against it. His bassy groan fills your head as his lips descend onto your neck in feverish fashion and you undo the clasp on his pants, rip down the zipper, and shove your hand inside the recesses of his clothing to massage him through his underwear.

With your only free hand you loop your fingers around the clasp of Mactavish's own pair of denim and using feeling alone you tug and pry until you are able to unhook the button. He leans his hips into your hand to help and soon the pants are barely clinging around him so that the slightest movement will cause them to fall.

"Open your legs," you hear that heavy British accent as the lieutenant whispers the husky words into your ear from his place just under your jaw as your mouth still dances with the other officer.

There is pressure over your lower abdomen and you adjust your stance so that the gap in your legs is wider. That heavy mitt slides down past the hem of your panties and straight inside, descending right to your petals that he is pleased to find already a good bit damp.

His thick finger teases around your silken lips, tantalizing your body with anticipation before he finally parts through the barrier and drags that thick digit up the length, gathering as much of your wetness on it as he can before he goes in search of that bundle of nerves he knows is somewhere close. A smile forms on his mouth when you buck against his hand as he lands the pad of his middle finger right on it and presses down.

"There she is," he groans and begins to roll his finger around the organ with a soft and steady touch till he has it throbbing.

The need the action produces rushes through your limbs like liquid fire and immediately you pry down the sergeant's pants, a bit of a struggle with only one hand at your disposal, to expose his skin tight boxer briefs that leave nothing much to the imagination as the jeans fall to his ankles. A moan is hummed into your mouth as you find your way past the waistband and wrap those soft fingers around his throbbing shaft. 

Jesus, both of these boys are packing.

He has to release your lips so he can breathe as the intensity catches him by surprise and his body convulses slightly. "Christ, I've been fantasizin' 'bout that soft hand bein’ wrapped 'round my cock," Mactavish moans, his mouth ghosting around your face as your head is dragged back to the other side to reconnect mouths with the lieutenant. The poor sergeant is too absorbed in the ecstasy of your strokes to bridge the gap between his lips and your flesh just yet. 

He is struggling to speak as the pressure from your hand compressing as your stroke makes him lose even more of the little bit of sanity he has left. "Better than I coulda imagined. Yer a natural, lass." 

The scot’s hands know exactly what to do even though his mind is still reeling from that initial contact and when he looks down, he catches himself pawing desperately at your breasts, cupping them in his hands to massage the mounds, enjoying the weight in his palms as he teases the nipples until they are hard. 

The men unintentionally work in tandem as you do the same to them and with your body being stimulated so thoroughly you are quickly becoming putty in their hands with a mess gathering between your thighs that the lieutenant can feel slowly dripping down his fingers. Good, you are going to need everything to be nice and primed for what they have secretly planned. All that whispering they had shared on the walk back had been for a reason, a plot that they came up with on the spot on how to share their treat for the night. 

Why should you have to choose who to start with and who to leave out? No, there's no need; brothers in arms share everything after all - everything- and you don’t have to be no exception. You wanted to go home with them both and that is how they’d like you to take them. The lieutenant taps the sergeant’s arm so that he is forced to break away and a knowing glance is shared between them. 

"I think our sweet thing needs a bit more, yeah?" Lt. Riley asks his partner in mischief as he pulls away from your lips and Sgt. Mactavish nods. 

The sergeant turns his sight back to you and you meet his gaze with an intoxicated, doe-eyed look that makes his heart skip a beat. God, you look stunning as a mess like this and he wants to make it worse. 

"We're just gettin' started," he breathes into your face.

"Come 'ere, pretty girl," the lieutenant beckons as he again seizes your wrist in his grasp and draws you over to the bed, his pants slipping off his hips as he moves and he steps out of them so that when he reaches the mattress he only has his shirt and boxers to remove. 

As a mass of naked, bulked-out muscle now, he sits down and situates himself before spinning you around by your hips, ripping off your soaked panties, and pulling you down so that you are forced to be seated in his lap. His cock prods its way through your thighs so you have to open them, veins throbbing from being so engorged. 

Your eyes lock to it through your lap. "I need you inside me," you moan, positioning your hips so you can try and grind against it. "Please, I’ve waited so long for this."

"Mmm, I like tha way ya beg, sweetheart," the lieutenant praises as his fingertips drift across your throat to feel how quick your pulse races under his touch. "I can't fuckin' say no ta that. Let's fix that ache."

Reaching between your thighs, he grabs a hold of his cock and grips it firmly at the base. His other arm secures you around the waist to his taut chest so that he can lean you both back and align the head with your entrance. You can feel the delicious way it prods right at the hole and your body trembles as you wait impatiently for him to thrust it in, your heart beating out of your ribcage. 

That first bit of penetration as the head of his cock slides in stretches you out so fast that you cry out with a jolt, but that arm around you keeps you from slipping. You continue to whine as he thrusts the rest in until he has you sitting on his thighs completely inside your tight cunt, pulsating. His lips gingerly pepper the side of your head with kisses until your muscles relax and your body finally accepts his girth.

“How’s tha’ princess?” he growls low in your ear with his warm breath trickling down your neck to make goosebumps raise along your skin. 

You nod your head up and down in short bursts as you fight with your tongue to recall how speech works. Fuck, you can feel his pulse as his cock throbs as if it has its own heartbeat.

“Ya feel so fuckin’ good,” Lt. Riley grunts as he grabs onto your waist to guide your body so you slowly start to bob up and down on him.   

It’s a good thing he sets the rhythm for you as you can barely focus on anything as the feeling of your superior stretching you out mixes with the adrenaline rush making you lightheaded, but through that haze you glimpse Sgt. Mactavish and beckon him forward so you can tug down his boxers and release his cock while he flings his shirt up and off his head.

Lt. Riley grabs onto your thighs and holds both of them gripped tight in his large hands, spreading them wide so that Mactavish can easily make his way in between them. The hair-speckled muscles of his abdomen shift along your bare spine as he leans you both back again so that the man before you has better access, both of you needing to be at the right angle to accomplish what is about to come.

"Think ye can take more, angel?" the Scot says with a mischievous grin plastered to his lips as his fist strokes along his cock to coat the shaft in the bit of precum that has dribbled out of the tip. 

There is warmth at the side of your head right at the edge of your ear, a shuddered breath that makes your pupils dilate and your own breathing gets caught in your throat. "Ya wanna have us both in ya, dontcha sweetheart?" the lieutenant growls, the heat from his breath brushing over your cheek as his fingers squeeze around the meat of your legs. "Fillin' ya full, givin' ya everythin' ya could ever want: both 'a us at the same time in this sweet, little pussy."

You pause as you try to think, but all you come up with is that you have never needed anything more than to have both of these men at once. Lt. Riley, however, takes your silence the only way he can, that you are having second thoughts.

“If ya don’t want it luv, jus’ say tha word,” he says. “It ain’t gonna hurt our feelin’s ta take turns. Do ya wanna stop?”

You can sense how close his lips are to your ear and it makes it hard to get the words out so you shake your head instead.

“Ya want us both?” he asks for clarification and you nod. 

He has to be absolutely sure. "Need ya ta say it, luv," he groans as he tenses his glutes, causing his cock to pulse inside you till it pushes you to moan out loud. "Look at your sergeant an say it."

You refocus your sight on the buff, naked man before you who is hungrily stroking himself to the sight gifted to him. The blue of his eyes shift in the dim light, a sparkle that you can't help but smile at as you swallow to find your voice. "I can take more," you say without breaking eye contact with the short-haired sergeant. "I want you inside me too, sir."

"Good girl, good fuckin' girl," the lieutenant praises in that gruff voice before placing another kiss to the side of your head. 

"Such a good little lass for us," Mactavish adds as he steps himself into the gap that’s been so generously created for him. His hands glide over your inner thighs, up and down the tender flesh a few times as if he's adoring it with his fingertips before he grabs back onto himself to align the tip of his cock at your opening just above the lieutenant's that is already stuffing you. 

Leaning his head forward, Lt. Riley's lips gently connect with your feverish shoulder at the nape of your neck and delicate bites are soon ascending up your throat. "Gonna need ya ta breathe, alright?" he says softly with his mouth still lingering just below your jaw. "Jus' breathe, sweetheart. We’ll make it fit."

Your eyes flutter closed as you succumb to the overwhelming ecstasy coursing through you at everything that is happening, but a firm hand under your chin brings you back into the room and your eyes back onto your second lover. 

"Eh, eyes on me, doll," the sergeant says as he holds your face up to gaze into his. "Wanna look inta those pretty things when I enter ye."

The lieutenant's lips rest against your throat as you feel that firm second tip begin to press harder at the top of your entrance, making you wrap your thighs around the sergeant’s hips. You breathe in through your nose deeply as he slowly sinks it in to rest just the head inside the threshold. The glazed over look in your eyes as you take him in is enough to almost send him reeling over the edge. His chest heaves with each breath as his head falls limp, muscles contracting as he pauses to give you all a moment to adjust.

Your whimpers mix with Mactavish's deep grunt and Lt. Riley's satisfied hum to fill the small room with the most unique music these four walls have ever heard. The pain of the intense stretch gradually eases after a moment and now that pleasure has taken its place you beg for the scot to keep going.

He smiles hungrily."Almost there, lass. Jus’ a bit more.”.

"Fuckin’ look at ya. You're doin' so well, sweetheart," Lt. Riley moans more of his praises as the sharp edge of his teeth drag across your neck, doing everything he can with what he has available to him to make sure your body stays in a state of pure bliss. 

Mactavish's fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts again, this time all the way till he reaches the base of his member and you buck backwards, but the lieutenant has you secure in his arms so that you don’t go anywhere. 

"Tha's it, pretty girl, tha’s it," he mutters sweetly as he lifts his head to find your cheek, nuzzling against it while placing sweet kisses along the surface. Your face is burning and he can feel it against his mouth.

"God, ye are a marvel," Mactavish adds with a hiss trailing the end of his sentence. "A fuckin' dream."

All the undivided attention, all the stimulation and heightened sensations of pain and pleasure has you in a daze of ecstasy so powerful that your head is spinning, drunk off all that intensity and they have to take control as you can only manage to take what they give. 

Rotating your shoulders and turning your head with a bit of effort you find the lieutenant's face and before he can even think you immediately move in for the kill, connecting your lips with force. His hands compress around your thighs the harder you go in so that he can meet you with the same intensity. Your mouths dance together for a few more minutes before you wrench your face away only to have your hands reach out to find their place at the back of the sergeant's neck to pull him into a kiss just as heated. 

No one gets left behind tonight. 

Lt. Riley takes the opportunity of your distraction and rolls his hips to start thrusting, wanting to take you by surprise and it does. The whine you release into Mactavish's mouth is his evidence that he's done just that.

"Fuck," the sergeant exclaims in a burst as he too feels the effects of the lieutenant's movements and instinctually bucks his hips into you, causing you to whine louder. 

Your head falls back against your superior's firm shoulder, your arms raising up to wrap around his neck to help you hold on as the two men begin to drive themselves deeper and deeper into your sopping wet pussy, stretching your tight hole to capacity. Your breasts bounce in rhythm, your body forced to move with the strength of their combined thrusts as eyes are locked onto the delicious sight of your body taking them. 

Lt. Riley’s hands are still preoccupied with your thighs, but one of Mactavish’s is free and he uses it to cup around the plump bit of tissue to massage the nipple between his thumb and forefinger for the second time; the man just can’t keep off them. “Ye don’t know how much I’ve wanted te get at these juicy things,” he groans at the feeling of your soft skin filling his palm. “That’s why I was always makin’ ye run laps just te see ‘em bounce.”

You knew that’s what it was, why he always seemed to single you out in training when you swore up and down that you didn’t do anything wrong. So this had been a long time coming, a desire that had been long held.

“Knew the moment ya stepped on base, ya were gonna be trouble for me,” the man behind you pants, wanting to add his own two cents. “Told myself not ta look, rules and all, but fuckin’ hell sweetheart, how could I not? Ya got in my head fuckin’ quick. An’ with that strong, bull-headed attitude to match; christ, you are a deadly thing, luv.”  

They find their rhythm in tandem, keeping pace with one another to get every benefit of slipping through all that slick, all parties working to that one collective end of everyone cumming like a three-headed monster of ecstasy. Thrust after thrust, bodies stimulated from adrenaline, you all are drawn even closer to that most satisfying end.

“You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good, sweet girl,” your lieutenant praises and the sound of his voice is almost enough to make you break. “You gonna cum for us, yeah? Need ya ta cum.”

You swallow, your mouth dry from hanging open as it’s too much to hold in all those delicious moans. “Close,” you mumble into the small space created by your bodies, but all this friction is working a little too well for your lovers.  

The sergeant is the first to break. “Shit, gonna fuckin’ come,” he groans as his abs strain, the pressure in the base of his stomach almost at its peak. Fuck, it’s just too satisfying to last any longer. 

The other isn’t too far off either. “Ya ready for it?” Lt. Riley says, his breathing shaky and uneven. 

You nod your head, a little disappointed that you aren’t fully there yet, but you know it can’t be helped. “Good girl,” he moans. 

The sergeant pulls out first and you take his cock into your hand, tightly holding onto the shaft to stroke it towards your breasts as the lieutenant stays in to keep going. Lt. Riley is so close he can feel that tightening in the pit of his stomach about to snap and with a few more ragged thrusts he too pulls out to be met immediately with your hand that keeps up the stimulation. Having both of their cocks in each one of your hands, you stroke them furiously.

Finally the moment of no return is reached and the Scottish sergeant is the first to go, the stringy spurts of milky white cum hitting your chest to gather between your breasts as he shudders in your hand. Through his grunts and moans of pleasure as you stroke his cock of everything, your lieutenant blows too and the warm fluid shoots up between your thighs to cover your lower abdomen. You don’t stop your work until your hands are forcibly removed and only then do you finally let them go.

But even though they are finished, they aren’t done with you yet- oh no, you are going to cum if it’s the last thing Lt. Riley does.

You are taken by surprise as there is suddenly a finger circling your clit and you moan into your throat. “Did ya think it was over? Can’t let ya not get yours, luv,” your superior whispers into your ear. “Want ya ta come for me, sweet. Come on my fingers.”

The two middle fingers on his hand are immediately shoved into your dripping hole and he curls them again and again over your G spot with a steady touch until he has your thighs quivering. Not one to be outdone by his superior, Sgt. Mactavish falls to his knees and leans in, his heated, panting mouth advancing to just above the lieutenant’s fingers so that his tongue can lap at your clit.

Lt. Riley can feel your swollen walls as they start to flutter around his digits, your hips bucking wildly over Mactavish’s face as you stroke your fingers through the hair of his mohawk. The lieutenant needs you to come, he needs to feel that you’ve gotten yours; you’re not leaving here unsatisfied as long as he’s around. A few more curls of his fingers and strokes of your clit and you go silent as that tightening in your belly is pulled completely taunt and all at once snaps. 

“Tha’s it,” your superior says amusedly as you let out a cry and your walls clamp down around his fingers, “good girl. Ride it all tha way out for me, luv. All tha way. Fuck…there ya go.”

You grind your hips into his hand and against the sergeant’s features until you can’t go anymore and settle back against Lt. Riley’s hot chest in contented exhaustion. The lieutenant’s fingers lay resting inside you as Sgt. Mactavish pulls back from your pussy, face dripping and accentuated with a smile before he wipes the contents away onto the back of his hand.

The sergeant looks so pleased with himself. “Been a while since a pretty thing’s ridden my face,” he says. “God, I missed tha’.” 

The lieutenant lets you ride each balmy wave of ecstasy that washes over you to its end before the fingers inside you are pulled out and he brings them to his mouth to lick them clean as Sgt. Mactavish tilts your chin up and leans in to leave you with a breathless kiss on your raw lips for a job well done. He is more gentle this time, more sweet, and you swear you can feel his mouth turn up into a smile against your own that you can’t help matching. 

The break in the kiss is slow and as he pulls away he strokes your cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Ye were brilliant lass,” he says, punctuating it with one last peck on your lips as he moves back. 

The lieutenant helps you off of his lap and sets you carefully down onto the bed beside him, making sure you’re steady before letting you go as the sergeant steps off somewhere into his room. You don’t pay much attention as your sight is focused on your superior, taking him in without the hindrance of his mask as he stares back at you.

“Ya really did so fuckin’ good, pretty girl,” he praises, admiring all that visible heat in your cheeks that he is partly responsible for. “But I knew ya would.”

He leans in to place a grateful kiss to your parched lips and you graciously accept it, letting your lips linger for as long as possible. Just as the kiss is broken, though, the squeak of metal is heard followed by the sound of rushing water and you both turn to the source to find Mactavish standing naked against the doorframe of his bathroom.

“Comin’?” the sergeant calls out.

Lt. Riley immediately goes to stand and offers you his hand. “C’mon, we need ta get ya cleaned up, sweetheart. We made a bit of a mess,” he says as he helps you onto your feet and guides you by a hand placed to the small of your back over to the shower and the warm water waiting to coat all of you. You stare up questioningly into his face as you go, but he just smirks as if he’s guessed what you are thinking. 

“Don’t ya worry, night’s still young and we ain’t gonna be done for a long while yet.”

[zarameraki]

˖°🕷️ ࣪𖤐 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗽-𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶 ˖°🕷️𖤐

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 unprotected sex 𖥔 step-father x step-daughter 𖥔 porn with plot 𖥔 banter 𖥔 dom daddy and his little girl 𖥔 neck kissing 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 praise 𖥔 bj 𖥔 biting 𖥔 nipple play 𖥔 daddy issues 𖥔 dirty talking 𖥔 small pillow talk 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 4.0k

: ̗̀➛ notes: ok look, i was ovulating and i had to write this for some reason. i even wrote a nanami one (but he's your step-uncle). my mind was in the gutter and i wanted to challenge myself to something super taboo. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

Here you were, standing on a worn-out welcome mat, staring at the door of your ex-stepfather’s house.

It’s surreal.

A month ago, when your mom dropped the bomb about their divorce, you felt like your world was crumbling. Part of you felt relieved, like you could finally breathe without suffocating under their constant tension. And the other part? Well, it felt like a piece of you was being ripped away.

Last week, when the papers were finalized, making it official that they were done, you locked yourself in your room. The silence was deafening, and you couldn’t shake off that nagging feeling of missing him. Missing Toji. It’s ridiculous, right? He’s not your step dad anymore. He’s just some guy now. Too old, too wrong, too different.

You should just turn around and leave, forget about all this.

But you couldn’t.

Not today.

Not when you’re clutching your hard-earned bachelor’s degree, wearing a stupid graduation gown that felt like a costume. He didn’t bother showing up for your biggest achievement, just like your mother. She was always occupied with her own life to care about you. You were just an accident, a spill on her pile of kitchen table bills. 

Toji, though, he was different. He actually paid attention, listened to you, cared about what you had to say. Maybe you’re being stupid for wanting to talk to him, to pour out everything that’s been eating you up for months. But you needed to do this, for yourself, even if it meant facing the reality that he’s not part of your life anymore.

So, you’d driven straight to his residence building, skipping the after parties with your friends. You were twenty-two for fuck’s sake. If you wanted to spend the night celebrating with your step-dad, then that’s exactly what you were going to do. 

Enough was enough. 

Your trembling finger hovered over the doorbell, each second feeling like an eternity. The sharp pricks of anxiety danced on your palms, and the weight on your shoulders threatened to crush you. But you couldn’t turn back now.

The ache in your chest demanded resolution, an answer to the haunting question that had plagued you since your mother first brought him into your life: Do I want to fuck my step-dad? 

Yes. Yes, you very much did. 

The clicks of the lock rattled and the door knob twisted clockwise. 

Toji stood in the doorway, his presence dominating the space as if he had devoured the entire door frame. His twelve abdomen muscles rippled, stark against his skin. Jet-black hair clung wetly to his forehead, partially obscuring his eyes. With sweatpants slung low on his hips, a tantalizing trail of hair led downward, drawing attention to the area you often found yourself fantasizing about.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath, realization dawning. “It was today, wasn’t it?”

“You’re such an ass,” you spat out, your body trembling with a mix of emotions—his forgetfulness, his proximity to you, the sheer presence of him. But at this moment, all your focus was on the pain of him abandoning you after promising he’d be there. “I was completely alone, Toji. Do you even understand how embarrassing it was to stand there by myself while everyone else had their families?”

“Sweetheart—”

“No. No, you don’t get to call me that. You don’t—You made me a promise, Toji. You swore you’d be there for me.”

“I know,” he murmured, running his hand down his face. “I’m sorry, kid. Come here.” He grasped your wrist and drew you towards him, enveloping you in a tight embrace. His strong arms wrapped around your body, reminiscent of the times he used to challenge you by having you sit on his back during push-ups to prove you wrong about being too heavy for him. “Better?”

“No,” you grumbled, resting your cheek against his chest. He had the scent of spruce and cigarettes that you found strangely comforting. What you wouldn’t do to sleep on his chest for hours, days and weeks. “Toji, I . . . I want to talk to you about something.” 

“What is it?” he asked, stepping back. 

“Can we sit down first?” 

He grinned. “Of course, baby.” 

With a shy smile of your own, you took his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch as he led you towards the plush couch at the center of the room. Memories of previous visits with your mother flashed briefly in your mind, but they were quickly replaced by the present moment.

The apartment’s decor was simple yet masculine, with red-brick walls lending a rustic charm. A mounted television, a large couch, and a hanging boxing bag added character to the space. The kitchen, though small, was designed in an L-shape, showcasing Toji’s dedication to fitness with his assortment of protein powders and supplements neatly arranged.

As you both settled onto the couch, Toji relaxed back, spreading out his legs and placing his arms on the backrest. His gaze lingered on you as you gracefully removed your graduation gown and placed your degree on his coffee table. 

“Your mother allowed you to wear that?” His thumb traced the curve of his lower lip as his gaze roamed shamelessly over you.

The gown you had on was a sleek, satin creation with a daring thigh-high slit. Its fabric was delicate, featuring thin straps and a plunging cleavage that barely contained your breasts. It was no secret that you had chosen it with Toji in mind, especially since your mother had been “too busy” to accompany you on your shopping trip.

“She doesn’t control my wardrobe,” you replied, your voice laced with confidence as you settled beside him. One leg tucked beneath you, the other languidly extended, the slit in your dress showcasing the smoothness of your skin. Toji’s gaze followed the line of exposed flesh before meeting your eyes. “Besides, you shouldn’t be the one to talk.” 

His smirk widened when you pointed out his lack of a shirt. “My house, my rules.”

You changed the subject. “Care to explain why you missed my graduation?”

“Work,” he replied shortly.

“Is that so?”

“I got a last-minute call for a match. The prize money was going to cover the next three months’ rent.” Toji was a professional MMA fighter. You had once attended one of his matches for ten minutes before almost passing out from witnessing how brutally he defeated his opponent. His persona in the ring was a juxtaposition to the sarcastic yet caring man he was at home with you.

“Did you win?” you asked, absently twirling the bracelet he had given you for your twenty-first birthday.

“Yeah,” he replied, his tone carrying a hint of pride. “I won.”

“Good.” You lifted your gaze to meet his, only to find his eyes fixed on you. “Do you miss home?”

“I am home.”

“You know what I mean.”

He took a deep breath, gazing at the blank television screen. Tilting his head back towards you, he wore a lopsided grin. “I miss you. Does that count?”

Your insides turned to jelly at his words, but you refused to let yourself falter, refusing to become the shy, sweet girl you once were, despite the depraved and forbidden reel playing in your mind. 

You missed watching television with your head on his lap. You missed cooking together. You missed doing the dishes afterward. You missed joining him on walks and runs just to spend a little extra time together. You missed dragging him to malls with you and trying on clothes, posing as sexily as you could, but obviously, he didn’t understand the signals. He never did. Even if you’d spend more time with him than your own mother. 

Silence ensued around you, only the subtle sounds of your choppy breaths and his composed ones were heard. 

“Why are you here, kid?” Toji’s gruff voice cut through the air.

“To see you.” 

“Why are you here?” 

You held your breath tightly in your chest. “I wanted to talk.” 

“About?” He was quick with the question, as if he knew what you were about to say, but wanted to hear it from your lips. Lips that he couldn’t pull his eyes away from. “Talk to me.” 

“I—” You felt a knot form in your throat. “I wanted to check up—”

“Bullshit.” 

Yeah, bullshit. 

What were you scared of? This was the man who cut up fruits for you when you were mentally deprived from crunching for your exams. This was the man who put a blanket on you if you fell asleep reading, even giving a kiss to your crown. This was the man who treated you like you were his own daughter, when in reality, you never were. And he never outwardly called you his daughter, either. You didn’t know why you never saw him as a father figure, but rather, you called him a friend. A really good friend. A friend you’d fallen stupidly in love with over the course of six months. 

Toji snapped his fingers in front of your face. You blinked out of the whirlpool of your thoughts. “Where’d you go?” 

“To you.” 

He lifted a brow. “To me?” 

Now or never, Y/N. Now or fucking never. 

You knelt down and moved closer, settling yourself onto his lap. His eyes widened momentarily at your boldness. “Toji, I like you. Hell, I love you. I love every version of the man you’ve been in my life. I know—I know you love me, too. Probably not in the way I want you to, but a girl can hope.” Your words were directed at the dog tag hanging from his neck as you gently placed your hands on his chest. “I did come here to scold you for not attending my graduation, but I also wanted to . . . I wanted to be with you. In more ways than one.” 

“You don’t know what you’re talk—”

“I do,” you stated firmly. Your lashes lifted and found his narrowed scrutiny. Unconsciously, his hands rested on your waist, molding to your curves. “I’ve known for a while now. It didn’t click in until you moved out. I swear Toji, it was like I couldn’t breathe without you.” 

“Baby . . . ” 

“I want you,” you confessed in a hushed tone, your fingers tracing the lines of his broad shoulders, then up to the sturdy column of his neck where his pulsing veins hinted at his emotions. “I know I seem desperate, but I don’t care. You’re not hers anymore. You were never hers.” 

“Y/N—”

“Please, Toji. Please, just touch me.” You tilted your head to plant a tender kiss on the sharp angle of his jawline. His faint stubble grazed against your lips as you continued to pepper kisses, stopping just short of his mouth. “Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, they say.”

Toji tightly shut his eyes and took slow breaths through his nose, his inner turmoil evident in the way his head moved back and forth. Your lips traced gentle paths around his face, savoring the closeness and the rush of emotions it brought. Even if he rejected you, you would find solace in knowing you had expressed your love for the man who was once your stepfather. This night might mark the end of your time together, but it also freed you from the burden of hiding your feelings.. 

“Baby,” Toji whispered, gently caressing your cheek as he drew you closer. “You sure you want this?” 

“Yes.” 

“You know how risky this is, kid. We can’t just ignore the consequences.” 

“I know, Toji.” You leaned closer, your breath mingling with his. “But I can’t ignore how I feel about you either. I want this. I want you. I want all of you. You can do whatever you want to me. I promise I can take it.” 

Toji licked his lips and ran his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. Okay. Your mom—”

“She won’t know. I’m planning on moving out soon.” You dragged your hand up and down his soft, bare chest. “I should’ve moved out with you.” 

Toji took your hand in his and pressed a tender kiss to the center of your palm. “I don’t think I have any condoms on me.” 

“I’m on the pill.” 

His eyes narrowed on you. “You’ve been fucking around? Does your mom know?” 

“Hey, I had to have a little fun. Gain a little experience for this inevitable night.” Your infectious smile rubbed off on him and he enveloped you in his arms. 

“I fuck hard.” 

“Good.” 

“Last chance.” 

“Nope.” 

Toji rose on his feet, supporting your bottom with his hands as he took you to his bedroom. He laid you down on his bed, the soft mattress absorbing the weight with a slight bounce. “Fucking knew you had a little crush on me.” He clambered onto your body and held your jaw with his hand. “Tell me, sweetheart, did you touch yourself thinking of me?” 

“Every single night. Whether it’s in the shower or my bedroom,” you replied, feigning a pout and raising your hand. “I’m starting to think I’ve developed carpal tunnel from all of it.”

Toji laughed, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face with his calloused fingers. But as his laughter faded into a knowing smirk, his next words sent a jolt through you, leaving your legs weak and your heart racing. “Yeah. Me, too.” 

“Really?” 

He answered by colliding his lips against yours. It was a brutal kiss. Pain and pleasure mingled together in a heated embrace. His tongue shoved deep into your mouth, exploring the source of your daring words. 

Pulling away momentarily, he squeezed your cheeks and sucked on your tongue like it was a delicious treat. “Gonna spit in your mouth.” 

“Mm-hmm.” 

Toji’s cheeks sucked in as he gathered his spit and spat it right onto your tongue. “Swallow.” 

You did, moaning as his warm saliva traveled down your throat. “You taste minty.”

“I was just about to crash before your demanding ass showed up,” he teased.

“Well, you should thank me then.” You planted a quick kiss on his nose.

Toji leaned in and kissed you deeply, tugging on your bottom lip and trailing his moist lips down to your neck. “You smell so good, baby.” 

“I’m wearing the perfume you bought me.” 

“You better fucking be. Do you know how much I get off on spoiling you?” His teeth bit your delicate flesh and pulled, making you whimper from the stinging pain. He sucked and bit on different areas of your neck, marking you with his love bites. He then helped you out of the dress and pressed you back on the mattress. “Knew you weren’t wearing a bra.” 

“No,” you said sarcastically. 

“Yeah,” he said, missing the teasing in your voice, “your nipples were in my face when we were talking.” He rounded his tongue around your areola. Gathering your breasts in both hands, Toji switched between suckling at your nipples, biting the sensitive bud that sent jerks in your body, and licking the burning pain. “I saw you undressing once. You know that?” 

You lifted a brow. “Uh, when?” And why didn't he do anything about it?

“You left your bedroom a bit open. I came to call you for dinner and instead feasted on the sight of your perky ass and these sexy tits.” He left your nipples numb and discolored from his teeth’s abuse. “You think you’re the only one who got off in that house? No, baby. Not at all. I was in the room right next to you, jerking off to your voice, or your smell.” This time, he kissed you gently and then each of your shoulders. “I had it worse. I had it so much worse.” 

“Toji . . . ”

“But you’re here now, and so am I. I’m not fucking leaving. You got that? You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.” 

“Yours,” you whispered. “God, Toji, I’m yours. I’m yours.” 

Toji removed his sweatpants and boxers, giving you a glorious display of his long, thick cock, corded with veins, sprouted up and proud. You had him like that, and so you gave yourself a mental pat on the back. “Like what you see?” 

“Yes,” you said, chuckling in disbelief at the anatomy of him. A surge of confidence washed over you. You slipped off your panties and spread out your legs, shaking your hair back from your face. “Like what you see?” 

Toji gleamed at the wetness pooled between your legs, soaking his sheets underneath, sticky and hot. Something feral rattled inside him. He gripped your knees and pried them farther apart, sinking in between. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck! Toji—ah!” Your back arched in ecstasy, fingers gripping his scalp as he ruthlessly ate you out. His large palm held your hips in place, nibbling and sucking at your quivering, swollen clit. “Toji, yes, yes, fuck. Right there. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” 

You grinded against him with full power, pushing your pussy closer to his mouth. He drank your leaking juices, drove his skilled tongue into your tight entrance, and discovered the sweet, cry-worthy spots inside you.

Soon, he replaced his tongue with three fingers, plunging them deep inside you with a rough and unrelenting pace that sent shivers down your spine. His deep growls were the icing on top. 

Tears streamed down your cheeks as the bed creaked beneath you. He was exorcising your damn soul out of your body with his holy tongue and his blessed fingers.

“Ah!” You came down like a fucking waterfall and Toji stood with an open mouth, drinking in your essence, lapping at your cunt like a starved dog, cleaning you as best as he could. 

You gasped for air, clutching your chest as you coughed or laughed or wheezed—hard to tell which. You felt weightless, incredibly sore, teetering on the edge of passing out.

“Toji . . . am I dead?”

His laughter echoed nearby, then drew nearer until his face came into focus through your haze. “Your pussy tastes just as delicious as your mouth, baby.” 

He kissed you and gave you a hint of your release. Toji was a moaner—a loud one—as he sucked on your tongue, pulling it into his mouth. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as he spit onto your tongue again, and ran his own coarse one over your palette.

You closed your mouth and pushed him back by his shoulders. “Let me touch you.” 

“Yeah? You want to suck me off, too?” 

“Yes, fuck. Please, Toji. Please let me suck your cock.” Your begging made him grunt as he got up on his knees. He moved closer, placing them firmly beside your hips. You sat up against the headboard, gripping his warm, aroused cock, while he entwined your hair around his hand, gaining control over your movements.

You looked up at his smirk and kissed his moist tip, savoring the salty taste. Goosebumps formed on your skin at the idea of taking him deeper into your mouth. It would definitely challenge your gag reflex, but if this was going to be a regular thing, you needed to practice.

“Part your lips for me, kid. Nice and wide. That’s it.”

“Yes, Daddy.” You winked at Toji’s alarmed expression. Oh, how you loved catching him off-guard by acting out of character. “You got a daddy kink, Toji?” You brushed your lips from the base to the head, swirling your tongue around the rim. “Since you love calling me kid, maybe I should start calling you daddy. Isn’t that what you were?” 

“You got a dirty mouth on you, kid.” 

“Learned it from my daddy.”  

Toji hissed through his teeth as you nibbled his tip. “Not dirty enough.” He gripped his length and forced it past your lips. Your nails plunged into his hips, gagging and shaking as he sunk past your uvula. “About time I fucked your smartass mouth with my cock, baby. Be a good girl and don’t tap out until I’ve come down your throat.” 

You closed your eyes briefly, gathering your resolve before meeting his gaze again with a playful glint. You weren’t entirely sure where this was going, but you were determined not to back down now. So, with a mischievous wink, you silently accepted the challenge.

Toji thrusted his hips back and forth, shoving his girth in and out without giving you space to breathe.

“That’s it, baby. That’s it. Fuck, you’re so good at sucking your daddy’s cock,” he groaned, his hands gently gripping your hair or caressing your cheek in a way that contrasted sharply with his dominant actions.

“My pretty whore.”

Thrust.

“My gorgeous girl.” 

Thrust.

“You belong to me, baby.” 

Thrust, thrust, thrust. 

He was a complete monster with you. 

Your face pressed against his pelvis, the brush of his happy trail tickling your nose. You knew from experience that most men came quicker if you fondled their balls. You squeezed his heavy, swollen sacs, making him hiss and violate your throat.

Toji couldn’t hold back. His release came with a roar, numbing your scalp from how tightly he was pulling on it. The thin ropes of his release and your saliva formed as he pulled out. You swallowed whatever was left around your mouth. To please him further, as if assaulting your throat wasn’t enough, you lapped at his tip like a devoted kitten. “You’re so good to me, baby.” 

That’s all you wanted to hear. 

“Turn around,” he commanded, and without hesitation, you dropped to your knees, arching your back to present yourself to him. “What a sight.” His hand glided over your left ass cheek tenderly before delivering a firm smack that made you jolt forward. Toji mirrored the action on your right cheek, preparing you while coating the tip of his cock with slickness from your own arousal. “Gonna put it in now, sweetheart.” 

“Finally, Jesus.” 

Toji spanked your ass which only elicited a giggle out of you. “Let’s see if you’ll be laughing soon, baby.” 

He pushed into you in one-quick go. 

You cried out and grabbed the top of the headboard with your sweaty palms. He pulled out just to the hilt then drove back in. The air smelled like your sweat and perfume and sex. Every nerve in your body was alive, your heart pounding fiercely as if trying to escape your chest. Your face flushed with heat, your blood singing with desire.

You moaned and cried and screamed his name, driving him to complete madness with the word “Daddy.” You begged him to go faster, push harder, to have you sore for weeks so you didn’t have to get out of his bed, out of his arms, out of his home. You wanted this to be your home. 

Toji spanked your ass repeatedly, skin slapping against skin, palming the back of your head so that your face was crushed on his pillow. It smelled like firewood. Smelled like him. You wanted to steal it, take it home, sleep with it, ride it while whispering his name. 

You both came together. 

Toji’s hot seed filled your stretched hole. He withdrew slowly, a teasing sensation that left you craving more. With deft fingers, he ensured not a drop was wasted. 

You collapsed onto your stomach, catching your breath before summoning the strength to turn and face him.

He exhaled heavily, laying beside you “Fuck, that was . . .” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“Best yeah.” You draped yourself onto his chest and kissed his chin. He massaged his fingers through your throbbing scalp, the other hand caressing your numb, bruised ass. 

Toji twirled a strand of your hair around his finger. “Does this make-up for missing your graduation?” 

You flicked his forehead. “I haven’t forgiven you for that.” 

“Maybe I should miss more of your events if this is the reward I’m gonna get.” 

You scowled. “I dare you to repeat that again.” 

Toji ironed out your scowl with his thumb. You kissed the pad of his rough finger, twice. “My cards are on the table for you, sweetheart.” 

Your lips met his, whispering, “I folded a while ago, Daddy.” 

“Fuck,” he breathed out. With a swift motion, he flipped you onto your back, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Round two, kid.” 

[rezwrites]

𝓝𝓸𝓬𝓽𝓮 𝓣𝓲𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓼

Vampire!Rio Vidal x Reader

Word count: 3.3k+

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, consensual non-consent, blood, stalking, knife play/knife-fucking, pervy!rio, choking/breathplay, double-ended strap, classic vampire cliches

a/n: happy halloween!

Stepping into the library, you're greeted by the soft creaking of the wooden floor beneath your feet drowned out by the mellow music that plays in the background, creating a soothing ambiance. Ancient bookshelves tower towards the lofty ceiling, dust particles dancing in the slivers of sunlight that penetrate the stained glass.

You make your way to the cafe ordering your usual coffee, the strong aroma wafting through the air, mingling with the crisp scent of old books.

Scaling the winding staircase, you delve deeper into the labyrinthine corridors of books and tomes, until happening upon your favorite cozy, nook by the window that overlooks the town square. Settling in, cautious not to spill your drink, you surround yourself with the new murder-mystery series you’re ecstatic about. The hours slip by unnoticed as you’re immersed in the numinous atmosphere, unaware to the pair of eyes that occasionally lingered on you.

“Don’t you have any friends to hang out with?” Rio’s smoky voice startled you out of your trance, questioning orbs probing you. She seemingly appeared out of nowhere, wavy, auburn hair fell over her tweed jacket.

“You always ask that, Rio. The answer never changes. I just enjoy reading.” You placed your bookmarked in between the pages, closing your book.

Rio pulls up a chair at the small table, “I know. It’s just that you’re here all the time. Always staying late.”

You narrow your eyes, furrowing your eyebrows at her, ”Well, what about you? You don’t ever seem to take off or anything. Besides, don’t you have other customers to bother?”

“Everyone’s gone home.” she motions to the window behind you. Turning to see the sun long gone, the near full moon high in the sky casting its brilliant glow unto the earth. Looking back at your phone you notice it’s almost 8’oclock. Slipping your books into your bag you gave Rio a sympathetic smile, truly feeling bad for losing track of time and hindering her from closing the library.

You gazed at her as she acts uncharacteristically nervous, shifting from foot to foot. Before you could ask what’s wrong Rio blurted out, “Can I walk you home tonight?”

She hates knowing the fact that you’d rather walk home alone at night than take the bus, you had mentioned something about carbon footprint. While she admires your dedication she anguishes over the idea of harm coming your way. Since you’re always the last one to leave, she closes the library as quickly as possible to watch and make sure you get home safely.

You nodded smiling, grateful for the offer. The library was normally quiet, of course, but as Rio led you through the bookshelves it has a different more eerie, quietness to it. You just chalked it up to the fact that it’s nighttime outside. You waited by the front desk while Rio finished up the rest of her duties, returning to you surprisingly quickly, you noted. Watching the lights go out one by one you clutched your tote bag, the darkness of the library was slightly unpleasant. Before any panic could stir Rio called you over to the front door so she could lock up.

The cool air feels crisp and refreshing against your skin as you both stepped outside. Small puffs of breath flowing into the night each time you exhale. The twinkling stars in the sky seem to shimmer and dance. The night is calm and peaceful, enveloping you in a sense of tranquility. The faint rustling of leaves in the wind carrying the scent of petrichor. The streetlights lit your way as you traverse the suburban roads.

“What book are you on now?” She asked, hands in her pockets as she walked on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street.

“That new murder-mystery series I’ve been telling you about! The bookstore across town had it out just in time for Halloween, I’m already on the second book.” Rio just chuckled at your enthusiastic ramblings, you’ve been raving about this series since late-May.

Rio doesn’t understand why you like Halloween so much. In all her time alive and the countless Halloweens that have passed her she has never grasped it. She just doesn’t understand Halloween, much like how she doesn’t understand why she’s so drawn to you. You were just a regular customer in the beginning, and even though you both built an acquaintance you’re still just a regular person. She tells herself it’s because you’re an easy meal but if you’re such an easy meal then why hasn’t she fed on you yet?

“So, why a librarian?” You inquired

“Quite, mundane. Books make decent weapons.” She laughed before quieting again, “Honestly, books provide a solace no one else can.”

“I get that.” You nodded along, “That’s really why I’m hidden away in the corner all day. My friends all moved to the city a few months ago and even though I just settled into my new job, I still have time on my hands.”

Rio listened intently, holding your front gate open, “Books are great way to lose yourself for a while.”

“Exactly!” You both shared a laugh, coming to a stop at the bottom of your porch steps, “Thanks for walking me home.”

“It’s not a problem.” You bid her a goodnight, fiddling with your keychain trying find your house key. Before you could enter your home she calls out, ”Do you want to go on a date?”

Spinning on your heel, shock evident on your face. Rio’s eyes widened at your shocked expression, clearing her throat, “I mean I might as well close for Halloween. We could watch horror movies all night. What better way to take a break, right?”

“I can make us dinner!” You instantly piped up, so many recipes already swimming in your mind, “it’s the least I could do walking me home.”

“Nothing with garlic, please.” She requests, playing coy. Faking an embarrassed chuckle, “I’m actually allergic.”

Bidding an each other a final goodnight, Rio watches you disappear inside your home. Hearing the click of the lock Rio checks her surroundings, before dipping around the back of your house. The lights in your bedroom already on by the time she crouches in your bushes. Peering through the sheer curtains of your bedroom window Rio watches you undress, noting every curve, dip, and mark on your body. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of mapping your body, it’s her favorite thing since developing this routine over the last month. She knows it’s morally wrong, but when she sees your angelic body she doesn’t dare stop herself from indulging in fantasies.

As you step into the shower Rio’s mind wanders to the thought of her hands roaming your warm body. Images of you shaking in bliss underneath her, arousal clear in your blood as she tastes you dance in her mind. Rio grunts lowly when you emerge from the bathroom instantly turning everything off and crawling into bed, upset she isn’t able to gaze at you a little longer. Rio makes her way home after listening to your breathing slow, confirming you fell asleep.

—

Buzzing with excitement when Thursday finally rolls around, you don’t hesitate to log off of work the second the clock hits four. After queuing up the movies for tonight you dash into the kitchen to get started on dinner and desert.

Rio stands in your walkway, staring at the fake cobwebs hanging from the porch banisters. After knocking she counts the fake spiders in your door wreath as she waits for you to answer the door.

“Hey!” You open the door with a cheerful smile on your face, “come in, come in.”

“All deck out for Halloween I see.” She closes the door behind her taking in all the decorations around your house. Little skeleton animals, pumpkin, and witch decor littered every inch of your living space, “My god, it’s like Halloween threw up in here.”

“I made bloody brownie bites for dessert!” Rio rounded the corner into the kitchen with her eyebrow turned up. Setting the brownies on the rack you turned to her, “Brownies with a little cherry filling. I also found a lasagna recipe that doesn’t have garlic in it.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Rio walked closer to you, the rich smell of tomato sauce and cheese filling the kitchen.

“No. You’re my guest, just sit and relax.” Pulling a chair at the table gesturing her to sit. Setting two glasses of water on the table.

"Are you really wearing plastic fangs right now? They look so realistic!” Taking in her dark makeup noticing the sharp canine teeth poking out.

She took in a sharp breath, holding a hand to her chest in offense. "These are my real teeth! This is just the one time a year nobody freaks out about them!”

You laugh, “Sure, sure.” Fixing two plates you place one in front of her, sitting down. A few minutes of silence passed before you spoke up again, “So do you sleep in a coffin or?”

“No. Ugh, those stupid movies never get vampires right!” She breathed out exasperated. She takes a sip of her water, “Call me crazy but I actually live above the library. There were a few rooms on the third floor, so I decided to renovate them as a living space.”

Cackling you held your stomach as it starts to cramp, “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you living at the library. Your commitment to the vampire character is convincing.” Taking a deep breath you wiped a tear from your eye.

“Dinner was delicious.” Rio complemented, handing you her plate, “How about we skip the movies for right now.”

“What did you want to do instead?” You placed the dishes in the soapy water, grabbing a towel to dry your hands.

“Let’s go for a walk. We can come back and finish the night with the movies.” Rio suggested, pushing her chair back in the table. Agreeing, you grabbed a light jacket before heading out.

—

The streets were alive with costumed children and their parents darting from house to house, colorful outfits glowing in the moonlight. The air was filled with the laughter and excited chatter of eager trick or treaters, blending with the rustle of leaves under their feet. The street lights were off letting the glow of Jack-o'-lanterns illuminating the street, casting eerie shadows on the houses and adding a touch of mystery to the atmosphere. The feeling of anticipation hung in the air.

“I’m sure the werewolves are having fun.” Rio stated, gawking at the large full moon.

“What?” You casted a pointed look at her, “There’s no such thing.”

“You really don’t believe in them? Just werewolves or all monsters?” Her face contorts with confusion. She’s not sure why she’s displeased. The fact that you don’t believe in the supernatural despite all your love for Halloween, and folklore upsets her.

“Like ghosts, spirits, stuff like that yeah, but vampires, werewolves, that’s where it gets tough.” you notice the streets getting quieter the longer you two walked. Rio perked up once you neared the graveyard. Running ahead she pushed open the grand metal gate, creaking as it gave way.

“Why in the world would we go in there?” You freeze on the sidewalk, goosebumps breaking out all over.

“Because it’s spooky,” she teased, bringing her hands up making them into claws. Cackling she turned, already walking onto the grounds. Huffing you followed after her eyes downcast, making sure not to trip over any tree roots protruding from the ground. A knot of dread slowly twisting in your stomach as you traversed the rows of tombstones. Rio gasps turning back towards you, “I hope no zombies wake up while we’re here.”

“That’s not funny.” you admonished, pressing a hand to your chest, attempting to soothe your racing heart. Glancing around, wide eyes darting all over, you hear Rio behind you, “Let’s play hide and seek.”

“What! no.” Turning to find yourself all alone, Rio nowhere in sight. How did she even disappear so quickly and quietly? It suddenly dawned on you how much silence there was, save for the crickets and occasional owl hoots. Shouting her name you searched around for her, quietly apologizing to each headstone you passed. Each passing second fear and anxiety welled up in your chest.

Frantically combing every inch of the graveyard, tears welled in your eyes. Coming to halt you let the tears fall, gathering your scattered thoughts. Fear turning to anger when you heard Rio’s laughter. Glancing up you spot her hanging upside down from a tree branch, your fists balling realizing that she just watched you run around the graveyard like a crazy person. Jaw clenching, you yelled at her, “Get down here, Rio! Stop kidding around!”

Rio stopped laughing, her face deadpanned. Dropping to the ground Rio stared you down, not uttering word as she advanced. Your blood froze when Rio’s eyes turned red, lips curling into a sinister smile, baring sharp fangs. Frozen in place, captivated by her hypnotic gaze. Time seems to slow as Rio leans in, breath brushing against your earlobe, “Your turn to hide.”

Immediately turning tail, you bolted out of the graveyard, your blood-curdling screams filling the air. Your breaths heave, heart pounding against your ribcage as adrenaline courses through your veins. Feet hitting the ground as fast as your body could take you, not caring how people looked at you as you ran past them, you just needed to get home.

Rio watched you run away, laughing to herself as she started the long way to your home. Now that you’ve invited her in your home she can come and go as she pleases. By the time she reached your backyard she was surprised you hadn’t made it home yet. Shimmying a library card under your window, she slides it open. Climbing into your bedroom, she heard the lock of your doors clicking. Cautiously closing your window she slipped behind your door, lying in wait.

Checking to be sure all the windows and doors were locked, drawing all curtains you made your way to your bedroom. Turning your on the bedroom light, you felt the cold steel of a blade on your neck. Rio grabbed you tighter, pressed the blade closer to your throat, her singsong voice floating through your ear, ”I found you.”

The blade of her dagger dangerously glinting in the light, swiftly slashing through your shirt. Peeling off your bra, Rio held you down on the bed. Hand on the middle of your back, wrestling off your pants. Hastily ridding herself of her own clothes Rio was thankful she’d forwent undergarments tonight. Every swing of her strap causing the end inside of her to press against her walls, sending a delicious shiver up her spine.

Flipping you on your back Rio caught both your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. Trailing the knife down your neck and across your collarbones, she stops the knife nicking the skin above your breast. Rio made a series of rushed, small cuts down your torso, the sweet sting of each one increasing the wetness between your thighs.

Rio fixated on blood bubbling up to the surface of your skin. Moaning each time she dipped down, warm tongue lapping at the fresh wounds. Rio’s eyes lit up with enamor as she licked your blood from her lips.

She dragged your panties up pinching your clit, jerking your hips towards her. The pulse in your clit growing stronger as she presses the blunt side of her blade on your bundle of nerves.

“Look at this mess. It’d be too easy to just-” voice trailed off as she gathers your slick on the hilt of her dagger. Head falling back as Rio lines the handle to your entrance. A pleased hum passes your lips as the icy steel stretches you out.

You shiver under Rio’s predatory gaze, her hand moving to cover your neck, lightly squeezing the sides. Head feeling light and fuzzy as she thrusts the hilt inside you, the curve of the handle passing over that soft, spongy spot perfectly. She can feel your pulse fluctuating under her fingertips as she tests the pressure around your throat.

Yelping at the sudden emptiness in your core, you squeaked watching her bury her dagger into your headboard. “Absolutely soaked,” she husked out spreading your juices on her shaft. Holding your panties to the side she inched into you, both of you moaning in unison. Sharply inhaling when Rio sped up, deft fingers squeezing your neck again.

It’s such a power trip she thinks, gazing down on you. Your life is in her hands, but your face shows pure blissed-out pleasure. Releasing her hold on you she uses her thumb to push your head aside. Teeth scraping against your earlobe, “Depraved slut.”

Her hips thrusted at a near inhuman speed, nails digging into her wrists as her gripped tightened. Pussy clenching around Rio’s cock, eyes rolling to the back of your skull at the thought of bruises forming on your throat. She swallows your moans, sneaking her other hand between your bodies, thumbing your clit. Each hard thrust sending electrifying, shockwaves through you, heels digging into her back. The squelching sound of her cock pounding you fills the room, mixing with the filthy moans you’re both emitting.

White spots blotted the edges of your vision, warmth rolling over you in waves. Shrieking, a sharp pain radiating as her teeth pierce your skin. Hearing her sucking on your neck realization hits you like a ton of bricks that Rio wasn’t masquerading as a supernatural creature for the night. Dragging your nails across her back leaving red trails in their wake, a loud moan escaping her. Rio latched on tighter, tasting your delicious blood as you convulse in her arms.

She doesn’t want to let go, wanting to stay in this moment for the rest of her eternity getting drunk off your taste. You weakly try to push her off as she licks at the hot liquid trickling down your neck.

Sucking in a deep breath when she relaxed the hand on your neck, her face remaining buried in your neck. Rio stilled inside you, collapsing on you. Shifting around to get comfortable, feeling the sheets soaked through beneath you. Rio found the way your heartbeat gradually slowed to normal rhythm calming, reveling in the way it grounded her. She felt your chest rise before you spoke up, “I know we talked about the- the sex and everything, but you’re actually a-”

“I tried telling you before.” Rio interjects, voice unusually small.

“I thought you were kidding! I thought you were alluding to your Halloween costume and was just super committed! You’re an actual-,” facepalming yourself, “Oh my god. Am I going to become a vampire?”

“No.” Rio rolled off you as you shot up, eyes bulging as you look at her. She figured you’d be screaming more, freaking out. You opened your mouth to ask another question but she beat you to it, “No, I’m not going to kill you.”

Clamping your mouth shut, you looked away from her, fingers reaching up to feel the puncture wounds she left. Watching you flinch, she propped herself on her elbows, “…Are you alright?” Rio felt more vulnerable with each passing second of thick silence, mentally trying shove herself in a grave. Boring holes in the back of your head, awaiting any form of reaction from you.

Thoughts running a mile a minute, too quick for you to grasp and focus on one. Despite Rio being a vampire she still felt like a haven. It shouldn’t be like this, but it is. Exhilaration, that a creature that’s portrayed as this evil being can deliver you such a cathartic experience. Fear, shame, embarrassment, feelings of the like surrounding the erotic fantasies you have, gone with Rio around. The ache in your neck and core solidified one thing: you wanted this again. The thrill of the chase as you ran home, arousal already forming knowing what awaited you the second you locked your doors. Eventually you straightened up, turning back towards her, an excited grin on your face, “Let’s fuck in the library next year!”

Rio’s eyes darkened, a smirk on her face, “Why wait?”

[specialgradefckr]

tw: explicit content, incest, satoru/reader, satoru/suguru, shoko/reader, codependency, very twisted relationship dynamics, implied abusive/neglectful childhood

suguru had never known what to make of the two of you.

satoru the six eyes and his twin sister. satoru who was his best friend, and you, the girl who looks just like him.

satoru who let suguru bend him over and fuck him until he cried, only to roll off the bed, pulling out his phone.

god. he knew satoru was a dick, but this?

it hurts more than it should. they'd never talked about it, never even called each other friends. he should have figured this wasn't anything special.

but what the fuck is satoru doing on his phone?

"satoru?" he says, trying to sound casual.

everything has to be casual with satoru. low-key. being with him feels like he's coaxing a wild animal. get too close, and he might just bolt.

bolt, only to hit him out of the blue days later with a picture of a candy and a smarmy comment about suguru's taste in food. or his hair. or his power as a sorcerer, or whatever was going through that malfunctioning brain of his.

god, why the fuck does he even like him again?

satoru turns back so suguru can see his smirking face.

god. that was why. the face of a fucking angel, a smile that made his heart skip. why did it have to be on this asshole?

"what, suguru? you feelin' lonely?" satoru drawls.

it's a question he knows the answer to. keep it chill. don't show your hand. don't get too close or he'll get scared.

it aches. "shut up," he says, "i'm just curious who you're texting right after i pulled my dick out of you."

he smirks back when satoru pauses, hesitates.

"who's this person you're thinking about right after you cum?" suguru drawls. he's proud of how distant he manages to sound.

satoru's eyes dart towards him, all ice blue and piercing.

"nobody," he says, setting his phone face down while he pulls on his pants.

he blinks. "what are you..."

satoru ignores his question, strolling out towards the door while waving goodbye. "later, su-gu-ru~"

"but this is -"

before his eyes can furrow, satoru closes the door behind him.

"...your room."

he'd thought that it meant something different this time. satoru always left right after they fucked, he never stayed.

but this is satoru's room. so he'd either kick suguru out, or let him stay.

he hadn't been prepared for him to just... leave. his own room.

what's wrong with him? seriously.

suguru glances at the downturned phone. flips it over.

nee-chan~ (2)

his sister? it beeps.

nee-chan~ (3)

no, don't. i'll ask shoko

you'll ask shoko to do what? satoru has a lock, so he can't see.

seriously, i mean it

after a moment, there's another message.

are you ignoring me, or just busy with him?

don't come over. slut

...what?

the message notification disappears along with the message.

suguru gets a strange feeling.

he looks around satoru's room. he finds some girl's clothes.

does satoru even like girls? they could be yours. he's seen you in his room before.

the strange feeling starts to get. stranger.

there's condoms in here, too, which is weird because satoru has never asked him to use them. or used them himself. he whined when suguru suggested it, actually. asked if he was scared of getting knocked up.

ugh. stupid, insufferable, endearing little shit. he wants to have him in his arms right now.

but it doesn't mater what suguru wants. satoru just left. like he always does, sooner or later.

picking up the phone, he makes his way out. down the hall, towards the girls' dorm.

shoko is already there when he gets there. holding out an arm to stop him.

he raises a brow.

"she's sleeping."

"how do you know i'm here for her?"

shoko shrugs. "why else would you be? saw gojo go in there. anyways, they're asleep now."

"can't be. i was with him just a few minutes ago."

the look she gives him is... strange. everything about this situation feels... off.

he pushes past her, and she sighs.

there's no noise inside, at least. he looses a curse to twist the lock on the door, turn it form the inside.

and it's surprising because - god, what was he expecting?

you're there, curled up beneath the blanket with satoru laying behind you, arms wrapped around you and holding you close.

it's romantic, sure. intimate.

but nothing weird. well, nothing too weird. satoru's always been weird, and you're just like him, so of course you're both weird together. you've always been close. you're his twin sister. what is he thinking?

with a toss, he lets satoru's phone fall onto the floor.

he avoids shoko's gaze as he closes the door and stalks off.

(he doesn't see her anxious glance at the door.)

"he's gone," satoru whispers to you, brushing his thumb over your nipple as you bite your lip.

"shut up," you hiss, putting a hand over his. "i can't believe you did that. why did he follow you? what did you say to him?"

his other hand, threaded beneath your panties, wriggles playfully.

"whaaat? you said you wanted to go to bed. i didn't want to make you wait." he sighs dramatically, "i'm the strongest sorcerer, you know. i need my rest~"

and without you, there is no rest.

as soon as your body is against his, it's like all the tension leaves him. you're there, with him, and everything is all right.

all his worries fade away when he can wrap his arms around you and feel you embrace him in return. mind blank at the soothing sound of your voice. never mind the words you're saying.

"yeah, but do you need to do... this." you say fruitlessly. "you could have come later."

"didn't wanna come later," he kisses your shoulder, "wanted to see you now."

you wriggle in his arms, too wide and too strong to escape, even if you wanted to.

it's enraging. it's gratifying. you don't know what it is, and never have.

he must have been fucking suguru. and after he got his, he came to you.

should you laugh, or cry?

"i could have asked shoko." you mumble almost miserably.

but a sigh escapes you as he fondles your breast. satoru always knows how to make you feel good.

maybe not as good as shoko does, but you're still nice enough not to say that to his face.

"what? to sleep with you?" satoru scoffs, "you can't sleep without me, either."

neither of you have ever slept alone, not a single night in your life.

not even when you were deathly ill and the clan begged the precious six eyes to stay away and not catch your sickness.

satoru had stayed by your side the entire while. held your hand while your head pounded and your body ached. wiped your tears when you cried.

because you were very young, and very sick, in more pain than you'd ever felt before. you had honestly thought you were going to die.

there had been no servants, no mother or father or caretaker. only satoru holding you close, lifting you to drink some water and medicine. telling you that you couldn't die. he wouldn't allow it.

and to your child's mind, that had been reassuring. your brother never left you. your fever broke and you were okay, just like he said you would be.

now, you know better. now you know satoru would lay in bed with people who weren't you, even if he always came back (for now).

now you knew what it was like to have someone else by your side.

(but was it enough? could it ever be enough? could it ever be what you have with him?)

"i'll never know until i try." you turn in his arms to face him, and he allows it.

blue eyes. beautiful, beautiful blue. a pretty face. almost as pretty as shoko's.

you've been learning, lately. you used to think of the mole on her cheek as an imperfection, the cigarette smoke a bad habit.

now? you still think it's a bad habit, but the mole is charming. and you don't hate the smell as much because shoko took you out shopping for perfume.

she asked you which one you liked the most, and bought it for herself. she wears it every friday when you have your girls night out with utahime.

where you get drunk enough to make out with her until she brings you back to the dorm, kissing and fondling and touching.

she asks you if it's okay. asks you how you like it best. asks you to touch her this way, that way.

it's not like how it is with satoru. but she makes you feel good, makes you happy. she wants you to feel good. when you cry she kisses your tears away, like she knows better than to ask but wants to comfort you anyways.

when was the last time satoru tried to comfort you?

"hey," satoru breathes into your ear, pulling your panties down, "c'mon."

when you think of her, your heart flutters. when you think of satoru, your stomach flips, and your whole body aches.

you don't know what love is. you don't think satoru does, either.

otherwise, why would he ever leave geto's arms? when he's so obviously head over heels for him?

you clasp one arm against his chest as you reach down, stroking his cock to hardness. geto must have made him cum (satoru has never made you cum). must have fucked him.

satoru rolls you so you're on top of him.

his shirt is off, baring his lean, muscled chest. your brother, your strong, handsome, beautiful brother, looking up at you with wandering eyes and greedy hands.

your hands are equally greedy. running over his chest, ghosting over his nipples until he shivers. oversensitive. he always is after he's been with geto.

satoru's got a condom out already. he slips it on, leaning forward and pinning you down beneath him.

he doesn't have to use condoms with geto. he doesn't have to be the one on top all the time, either. geto can fuck him. he must like that.

geto's a special grade sorcerer. geto's a man. he's not his sister.

his cock is sliding up and down against your entrance, wetting the condom as he nips at your breast.

he always leaves marks like this, but never where anyone can see.

does he leave marks on geto?

"do you like him more?" you mumble, anxiety swirling in your gut. your lower half is a hot swirling pool of need, leaking for him.

and he inches in, making you whine, making you claw marks into his shoulder. you hope geto sees them.

satoru groans, low and throaty. it always feels like coming home when he's inside you. a perfectly matched lock and key.

his hand threads through your hair. you're so beautiful, so fucking beautiful. he'll admit he's a vain bitch, but who wouldn't be? looking like the two of you do.

maybe one day he should get you to dress up like him. wear a strap and fuck him, that'd be fun.

for now, you're warm and soft and perfect for him. so comfortable. and you're rambling about stuff that isn't important.

"what," he murmurs, breathy from the warmth of you around him, "who?"

if the frustration shows on your face, he can just fuck it away.

"geto." the name is swallowed by a swift thrust, hands planted on your hips.

you wish he'd touch your clit more (you never ask). you wish he'd answer your question (you're afraid to push). but your brother just doesn't think about other people.

"c'mon," he whines, "don't talk about some other dude. you're with me."

"you were with him."

"so?" he thrusts in harder, stealing your breath, like that'll win him the argument, "you're fucking shoko."

satoru fucks you breathless, then. pumping in and out so quickly that the friction has you shuddering, shivering, close enough that you finally start to squeeze around him.

it's always like this with him. you feel like you're drowning, helpless. all you can do is cling to him.

"satoru," you hate how pitiful your voice sounds, "satoruuuu...."

he's hitting you, so deep and so hard it hurts, pierces through the breathless haze and leaves you clenching around him.

"please," your breath escapes you with his next thrust.

please don't leave me. don't abandon me for him. don't discard me now that you have someone better. don't leave me all by myself...

tears dot at your eyes, squeezing around him. satoru's own eyes are wide and wild, his hips shoving into you staggeringly fast.

"i got you," he says, close, so close, "i've got you."

another deep thrust, painful as it is pleasurable, bruising and fast like his fingertips on your hips. he swallows your moans with a kiss.

he thinks he can eat up all your complaints, all your anxiety. hide away from his own by nestling himself in your body.

you don't want anyone but him, right? he's the only one who touches you like this.

the way you squeeze around him, the way your body feels against his, no one else gets that from you. shoko couldn't do this for you. no one could.

you say his name again and he's ready to burst. you love him always. you're so good for him. you make him feel good just by being there.

a part of his life. a missing limb. his precious sister, his beating heart, right there against his chest.

"there," satoru pants, "fuck, there, cum for me, baby..."

it's tears you blink away when he gasps and cums, burying himself inside you with a wounded sort of whimper.

you never do, when it's him. to be fair, you've never done it to yourself, either.

you only ever came when shoko fucked you. but fucked is such an ugly word for how gently she touched you, how soft she smiled.

"satoru," you whine again, "do you like him more than me? i like you more than shoko..."

satoru doesn't answer you. his hands move from your bruised hips to wrap around you, pull you close, plant kisses on your head.

"you know," he mumbles out your name. "you know."

there's a flash of rage. irrational.

he won't say it. he won't even say it. satoru will fuck you, his own sister. cling to you like he needs you to survive, sleep with you every night of his life.

but he won't say he loves you more than geto. he won't even say he likes you.

and you know - because you know him like the back of your hand, you were born with him, you spent every waking moment of your life with him until you came to the school - you know satoru loves you.

but he loves you like he loves air. it's always there. always accessible. it's not like the air will suddenly leave.

you curl into satoru's muscled chest, let him embrace you closer, sink into the silence that's only comfortable for him.

maybe there's something you can do about this.