#it’s like caught between a rock and a hard place

[tbaluver]

caught wet handed!- The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: xavier x fem! reader, zayne x fem! reader, rafayel x fem! reader, sylus x fem! reader, caleb x fem! reader summary: they caught you touching yourself requested by: @xylanhio, @batatahahaha, + 3 others anons ( mssged them priv ! ) tags: will be listed below each name special thank you to my beta readers mwah mwah: @ilovemitsuya, @justwinginglife ₊˚⊹ ᰔ a/n: hihi my luvs! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i apologize that this took so long to write i hope you all enjoy reading and i added an extra bonus at the end for each one hehe! thank you for your patience and lmk what you think mwah! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

tags: female masturbation ( humping his pillow ), mentions of p in v, fem! reader getting eaten out

You had a rough day, frustration was just an understatement. Your teammates were uncooperative, your boss insufferable, the food at home was the last thing you wanted, and to top it all off, Xavier wouldn’t be home until later.

Dragging yourself to your shared bedroom, you slip into more comfortable clothes before collapsing into bed with a huff. You roll over to look at the empty spot beside you where he usually sleeps, pulling his pillow closer and hugging it for comfort. You breathe in the scent of your lover, the familiar smell instantly comforting you. You nuzzle your head deeper into his pillow, wishing it were him instead. 

Checking your phone for any updates on when he’ll be back home and if he could grab food on the way. You lower the pillow slightly to have a better view of your phone, pressing the pillow between your thighs and mindlessly rocking your hips. The more you rock your hips, the more it feels good and the more heat travels down to your core.

Your cunt throbs desperately for more friction as you rub yourself against the plush of his pillow, slipping your fingers down to your heat to tease yourself. The arousal pooling in your panties remind you of the night you both went round after round, minutes turning to hours of getting stuffed with his hot, creamy cum. That night leaving you both sticky and wet. You moan breathlessly riding his pillow to match the pace from your memory making the bed shake from how hard you rub against it.

It was no doubt his pillow was nowhere near what he’s given you. He would be so deep inside you, your wetness perfectly coating his entire thick base of his cock. 

You ran your fingers across your hardened nipples as you imagine Xavier sucking and placing sloppy wet kisses against the back of your neck, huffing out shallow breaths that send chills down your spine. He was so greedy that night for finding deeper angles in you, his cock exploring every part of your pussy with ease. His hands grip tightly on your hips as he thrusts in and out of you relentlessly, chasing his orgasm with you again.

Your hips glide effortlessly against his pillow, fast and faster until you feel the grip on his pillow slip away from your grasp. A soft whine escapes your lips, frustrated from the emptiness in between your legs. You flutter your eyes open to find Xavier standing beside you, staring down at his pillow, specifically the wet patch from your arousal. “Don’t you think this is unfair?” 

Immediately heat floods your cheeks as you quickly avert your gaze and scoot back to your side of the bed. Before you can explain, he climbs up in front of you, his hands grasping your legs, drawing you closer. “You should use me instead.” His eyes burn with hunger as he glares into you.

Bonus For Xavier:

The moment he walked into your shared bedroom, it took him a second to realize what was happening in front of him. Your eyes close shut while he listens to the pretty sounds that slip past your lips, your hips moving effortlessly against the pillow- his pillow. He loves to hear you and see you come undone but not to his pillow. With quick strides, he rips the pillow out of your arms, thinking of burning all of his pillows or maybe just keeping this pillow with the wet patch of your arousal on it.

Xavier is always greedy and selfish when it comes to you. He wants you all to himself and he only wants to give you pleasure, nothing else. The moment he tugs your panties down and sees the mess between your legs, he immediately burries his head in, making sure no more drops are wasted. He loves to be between your legs, kneading your thighs while his warm tongue eases all your tension away. His pretty blue eyes looking up at you occasionally to take note of your reaction, his long eyelashes fluttering as he sucked on your clit.

You don’t remember how many rounds he’s gone for but your body felt mushy and boneless, completely forgetting about your worries and frustrations that happened today. He made such lewd noises as he sucked and slurped your cum again and again into his mouth as if it were water, his tongue devoted to every single drop you’ve given him. The noises you made only spurred him on, his arms wrapping around your thighs as he held you down.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your hands digging into the sheets of the bed while your back arched. He groans into your cunt, the sound sending vibrations deep inside your weeping cunt as you cream all over his face again. He holds your trembling body tightly, making sure to not waste all the juices gush out of you. “One more time?” 

Zayne:

tags: female masturbation ( fingering ), fem! reader receiving fingering

Recently Zayne’s schedule has become unpredictable lately. His pager would buzz at the most inconvenient times, during your meals or when he was just about to settle in next to you for bed. You could see the apologetic look on his face when the call came in and you knew without a doubt that he had to leave. 

As the chief surgeon, his role at the hospital was always crucial and you understood the weight of his responsibility. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead before trailing down to meet your lips. His arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close for a brief moment before he pulls away, heading back to the hospital again.

No matter how busy his days would be, he always found a moment to reach out to you. Whether it was a quick message before his surgery or a brief text after his meetings. He doesn’t let you feel completely alone.

☃︎:‘Make sure you’re taking breaks.’

☃︎:‘Eat well and drink plenty of water’

☃︎:‘Don’t stay up too late waiting for me again. It’s important to get rest.’

☃︎:‘Have a goodnight. Sleep well.’

You could hear his voice reach out to you across your screen but it wasn’t the same. No amount of text or calls could replace the warmth of his presence. You missed him deeply and it was hard to ignore the empty space beside you at night. Life has felt frustrating lately, with work and everything else outside of it added more pressure while his absence lingers in the air. You craved some kind of relief.

You roll over to his side of his bed, his scent still lingering on his pillows. You can imagine him there, half-lidded eyes watching your head fly back as you bounce on his cock. Your hands rest on his defined abs to keep you steady while his large hands rest on your hips, occasionally slipping down to squeeze the plush of your ass.  

Heat travels down between your legs the more you think of him. His lips on your clit, sucking so harshly that it makes filthy noises echo in the room. Zayne hasn’t messaged you yet, so you assumed he was busy in another meeting and you couldn’t ignore the heat building up between your legs, so you decided to take care of yourself for now.

You laid back against his pillows with your legs spread wide, slowly sliding your finger up your folds before sliding it in while the other pinches your hardened nipples, something Zayne would do. Adding another finger in, you feel the slow stretch and start a steady pace.

Your fingers were much smaller compared to what Zayne offers you. He’s reached places that you didn’t even know were possible and only he can reach. Two of your fingers were nowhere near to what you want but you’ll manage to make it work for the night

You thrust your fingers in and out of you, sliding them as deep as you could. Soft noises escape you as your fingers rocked in and out of your weeping cunt, sending lustful waves throughout your whole body.

You were so consumed by your own euphoria, the relief after days of frustration, that you didn’t even notice Zayne opening the door to your shared bedroom. He was at a loss of words with what he saw play out right in front of him. Your eyes were clenched shut as you focused on trying to reach your high that you didn’t even notice his presence. His eyes were so fixated on your body that he couldn’t look away, the heat traveling down to his cock. He watches the way your fingers pick up the pace, the sound of your fingers dipping in and out of you while you softly moan his name against his pillow. He can feel his erection straining against his trousers.

You whimper out his name, your back arching, meaning you were close. He watches you pull out, your warm slick arousal drip down your fingers while your eyes flutter open, finally realizing he was there the entire time.

You yelp, your face flushing with embarrassment as you scramble to pull the blankets around yourself. “Z-Zayne?!” Your eyes trail down to see the visible erection that begged to be free.

He shakes his head slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips as he steps closer and closer while loosening his tie. “You don’t need to cover yourself. I’ve seen you countless times.” He hovers over you, his voice low. “It seems you’re taking longer finishing by yourself. Have you been having issues while I was away?" He lowers himself to meet your height, his breath fanning against your lips before he captures them with his own. "I can help fix that for you if you'd like.”

Seems like you’re not the only one who’s been missing some company.  

Bonus For Zayne:

His large hand cradles your cheek as he kisses you hungrily, wanting more of your soft lips on his while his fingers work wonders on your other lips. “I’ve missed you,” He whispers breathlessly, quickly chasing your lips again as if he lets you go for a second, you might disappear completely from his grasp. 

You pull away gasping, his fingers sliding across your folds, stroking them at a painfully slow pace to get you even more wet. You wanted to reply, tell him that you’ve missed him too but he was quick to close the gap between both your mouths. He wants to take his time with you, knowing that currently it’s rare for both of you to have that but he doesn’t want to keep both in agony any longer.

His fingertips drag over the opening of your cunt, arousal seeping out of you like honey. Every movement he makes is methodical, taking note of every reaction you make. "You're so wet.." He groans, coating his fingers with your arousal. The glide of his fingertips over your clit before slipping inside feeds the pleasure you craved in your gut. His other fingers wrap around your nipples, adding more pleasure straight to your core. The way your lips parted, whines turning into whimpers lets him know you feel good.

It didn’t take long for you to melt against him as he murmured sweet praises of you’re doing so well for him. His fingers thrust in and out of you, slipping a second one in when you’re ready and you already feel so full. Your fingers that tried to match his girth and length weren’t able to touch spots he can. His eyes averting occasionally to watch the way your face contorts from the pleasure before trailing down to watch your breasts slightly jiggle from the movement.

His digits are knuckle deep inside of you, prodding at the sweet spot within you as they thrust in and out of your velvety walls. Obscene squelches of your soaking cunt as he angles his wrist and curls his fingers. It’s not long until your walls are clamping down on his fingers, pleasure flowing through your body and veins. Your hands that rest on his chest run up to his shoulders, holding onto him tightly, trembling from the sensitivity.

You ride out your high, his fingers slowing down as his free hand caresses and knead your hips.

He presses soft, lingering kisses to the top of your head, the silence in the room only broken by your shared breaths. Neither of you need to say a word to feel the weight of how much you’ve missed each other.

Rafayel:

tags: female masturbation ( fingering ), mentions of p in v, fem! reader getting eaten out with a mix of fingering

You were exhausted. After a long day, you finally got to come home late as your boss had let you leave early once your mission was complete, letting the rest of the team pack it up. Rafayel wasn’t home, he was off at some art event Thomas had dragged him too. All day long, he had been glued to his phone, sending you messages about how boring the event was without you and how he wished you were there so you two could run away together. He would sneak off by himself but running away alone just wasn’t the same. As you stared at your phone, your eyelids grew heavier. You barely had a chance to let him know you were home early before you drifted off into deep sleep.

Meanwhile

He felt so hot, his head spinning. He had to excuse himself from the guest, ignoring what Thomas had to say as he entered the bathroom. The burning heat surged through his body and traveled through his lower half. It was getting unbearable. His head was throbbing, he needed to get away and go home. He needed- no, wanted you. His mind and body called out for you.

-

You shifted slightly in your shared bed, your eyebrows furrowing as your dreams started to unfold, unaware that arousal seeps through your panties. The familiar bedroom around you felt hazy but Rafayel on top of you was clear as ever. You could feel spit drip down your chin as you both pull away from the messy and sloppy kiss, the tip of his cock sliding against your throbbing clit made you gasp. 

Soft whimpers escape his lips as he listens to all the sweet delicious sounds you make for him, his large hands grip your thighs as he presses his cock into your cunt, watching how you swallow him up so easily.

He lowers himself, littering kisses to your chest as you wrap your legs around him. His balls smack against the curve of your ass with every powerful thrust, sending shockwaves of pleasure to your core. Just as you were about to meet your high, you woke up abruptly, feeling the wet patch in between your legs.

You sigh, trailing your fingers down, making small circles around your clit before slowly inserting them in easily from how wet you are. Your fingers slid in and out of you, your mind wandering between how the dream would finish or the times Rafayel has touched you.

You’d imagine how he’d insert himself deeper and deeper into you, pulling out just a little, then dipping further back in while rubbing circles around your clit. How his hair tickles your skin while his tongue works circles around your perky buds before swirling his tongue around the base of mounds of flesh.

You ran your fingers across your perky nipples while your other hand slid in and out of your wet walls. Soft noises and moans of his name escape your lips, the relief you anticipated for picking up.

Until the door abruptly opening startles you from reaching that, your fingers slipping out of your wet hole, making you close your legs shut.

“You...” Rafayel pants, his eyes looking at you hungrily. It was as if he was starving and you were his only prey. “Dirty girl..” He mutters under his breath, inching closer and closer towards you with some sway in his walk as if your body was luring him in. He crawls onto the bed you, the bed shifting it's weight as his body pins you beneath him. "Wouldn't it be much..." He groans, spreading your legs to look at the mess between your thighs. "better if it were me instead?"

Bonus For Rafayel:

He wonders if you could feel the way his heart pounded when he saw you in front of him, legs spread open as you played with your wet cunt. You were calling out to him and he wonders if you did it on purpose or did it to tease him. He can’t seem to think straight, his entire body felt hot with need and he needed you badly.

Rafayel is face deep into your pussy, lapping up the juices while his thumb lightly brushes your clit. His other hand settles around your thigh, kneading the flesh deeply as if he were trying to feel more of you all at once. You were too lost in the pleasure, not noticing the way he ruts against the mattress. He wants more of you but he can’t seem to leave between your legs, lapping up all the drops that you give him as if your arousal was the water he needed to breathe.

“yeah? like that?” he groans softly against your cunt when your hands grab a fistful of his hair, the familiar heat in the pit of your stomach building up. He hums, the sound adding more stimulation to your core. He knows you like that. The way he glanced up at you, studying the way your breasts rose and fell, your lips parted let him know you were absolutely enjoying it.

He continues adding his fingers into the mix, switching between his tongue. You rock your hips back and forth against his mouth, panting his name again and again, breathy moans until your orgasm washes over you.  You grind your high out, bruises slowly forming on your thighs from his tight grip. Your juices and spit coat his lips and drip down to his chin. However he was not finished with you yet, his eyes still clouded with hunger and need. 

Sylus:

tags: female masturbation ( fingering ), mentions of p in v, fem! reader getting eaten out

You laid on your shared bed, legs spread with your fingers curling inside of your tight cunt, your thighs rubbing desperately. After a long time apart due to both of your busy schedules, you finally had the chance to be together but just as you were about to make up for lost time, an emergency on his end pulled him away the next morning. Rushed wet kisses and lingering touches on your soft bare skin as if he was leaving for a long time. He held you for a brief moment, taking one last good look and stealing one last kiss before he had to leave.

You kept his shirt from the night before on, afraid his scent might disappear from you completely. The sleeves of his shirt occasionally slipping down your shoulders as you move your fingers rhythmically in and out of your slick folds.

You thought about what happened last night, soft breathing fanning against each other's lips while his large hands held onto your hips tightly as he thrusts into you at a slow pace, making sure you feel every inch and vein of his cock.  Your name leaves his lips once, twice, again and again while constantly hitting your sweet spot. Your breasts bounced as his thrusts started to hit harder, shaking the entire bed. Just as you were about to recall how you met with pure ecstasy, a call interrupted your thoughts. Your eyes fluttered open, revealing none other than Sylus’s name on your screen.

‘Sweetie I hope I didn’t wake you. I know you must be tired from last night's events.’ You can hear his smile through the phone, your movements slowing. ‘I bought Mephisto a new hat on my way back- I think you would find it cute.’

You hum in response, your voice hoarse. ‘Hurry home Sy..”

He chuckles on the other end, ‘I’m almost there. I can’t wait to finally spend some time with you.’ But your mind was so dazed, your core aching for more after hearing him, his words barely registered as you set the phone aside.

You sigh, starting over the pace you set again, completely unaware that neither you or Sylus had ended the call. Two fingers rub circles on your clit while the other hand pinches your exposed nipple that was peeking out from his button up. Soft moans of his name fall from your lips as your fingers deliciously rub against your clit.

Shamelessly, he doesn’t end the call. Instead, he rushes back home, muting his side to avoid disturbing your relief, even though you probably couldn’t hear him from your series of lewd noises on your end.

You match the pace of your imagination of what Sylus would do, his name desperately spilling from your lips.

His pace would build up faster and faster, you imagined, feeling yourself inch closer to your peak- until you suddenly hear his actual voice, clearing his throat. Your eyes snap open, locking with his crimson gaze. “Enjoying yourself?” He leaned against the doorframe, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips as he scans your entire body. His eyes trail lower, amused at the mess between your legs, nothing on but his shirt.

“S-Sylus?” He can’t get enough of you hearing you say his name, how he craves to hear it over and over again.

He nods, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt but..” He stalks towards you, crawling onto the bed, his body hovering over in between yours. “won’t you let me have a taste?”

Bonus For Sylus:

Your arousal settles in quick the moment he enters you with his tongue, earning a gasp from you. “Like this princess?” He hums into you, the vibrations sending pleasure down to your core. He holds you close to his face, buried face deep inside you, encouraging you to make a mess on him- maybe even suffocate him if you want. Your back arches with every drag of his tongue along your wet folds as he loudly slurps up your slick. 

The pink wet muscle tip laps up your wetness eagerly, filling you up while stroking the sensitive bud delicately with his thumb. It didn’t take long for his chin to be dripping quickly. He groans softly into your heat when he dives in, feeling your walls twitch against his fat tongue. 

His tongue explores every centimeter of your gummy walls before speeding up. His dark heavy gaze filled with lust flicker up at you, watching you in awe. Your stomach clenched, your legs trembling under him.  Your legs are trembling as his tongue works against you mercilessly. Your thighs shake as your juices coat his face. 

He licks his lips, making sure no remains of your sweet substance goes to waste before diving right back between your legs to lick off the juices off your skin and entrance, earning a yelp from you. He places gentle kisses over the marks he left on your thighs from his tight grip, while his other hand traces soothing circles on the other.

Caleb:

tags: female masturbation ( fingering ), mentions of p in v, fem! reader recieving fingering from his metal arm

Your eyes flutter open slowly, Caleb’s scent wrapping around you, yet he is nowhere near you. The shirt he wore last night oversized on you while the lingering comforting scent surrounds you as you roll to his side of the bed. It was too early- it was the afternoon, to be up right now. You were still exhausted from last night, your mind dazed to worry where Caleb disappeared too.

You close your eyes, your mind drifting back to the night before, your fingers lightly tracing the marks he left on you.

How did it go again? Your fingers trace the marks he left on you, attempting to copy the movements he made last night.

Ragged breaths fan over each other's lips after a heated kiss, his erection pressing between your thighs. Caleb whimpers, running his tongue down to the side of your neck, leaving a wet trail down to your breasts. The top of his tongue circles around your hard nipples, letting one go with a wet pop! before moving to the other one. His cool, metallic hand traces delicate patterns along your inner thigh, sending chills up to your core as he pushes your legs further apart. He continues to tease you by slowly sliding his hand up higher and higher, tugging the hem of your waistband.

“Caleb please..” You whine, feeling his smirk against your skin. Without any remarks this time, he dips his fingers in slowly, coating them with your arousal. Slowly he slips a finger in with ease, feeling the way your walls clench before adding another one. He picks up the pace, savouring the sounds of your moans for him. You were already getting off just by his fingers alone, he can’t imagine how much of a mess you’ll be on his cock.

“Caleb..” Soft moans of his name slip past your lips as you curl your fingers inside of your tight cunt, your thighs rubbing together desperately to match up the friction from last night. Your fingers were no match compared to his cock and hands. They were much smaller and less girthier than what he has given you.

The way you were absolutely drooling on his pillows, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull whenever you tried to fill yourself up from his cock. You couldn’t see it, but he was enjoying it. Your eyes were completely shut, missing out on the way he was completely enjoying your disheveled state. The way you held onto him so tightly so you two wouldn't disconnect. He starts with a few slow strokes, the bulge in your belly could've made him finish in you immediately but not yet. He needs more of you, he needs to hear more of how good he makes you feel.

You clenched your eyes shut, concentrating on the pleasure from last night, making sure the rhythm matches the pace in your head. Your moans and whimpers grow louder after each few trusts as Caleb listens quietly by the doorframe. You clench and spasm around your fingers buried inside of you, pleasure washing over you.

Pulling your fingers out, the warmth of your slick clings to your fingers. As you flutter your eyes open, you’re met with Caleb standing in front of you, his chiseled chest and his grey sweatpants that hung dangerously loose on his waist. His gaze locking onto the mess you made between your thighs, his erection is clearly visible from the thin material.

He approaches you slowly, the mischievous smile still playing on his lips as he sets the plate of brunch he prepared for you earlier on the nightstand. He climbs onto the bed, pinning you beneath him. “Now that I’m here..I don’t think you need these anymore.” With his free hand he grabs the your hand coated with your arousal, inspecting it for a moment before licking it clean himself.

Bonus For Caleb:

Every day Caleb is grateful that the world advanced to the point where they finally built in the sensation of touch in his robotic arm, allowing him to finally remember how it feels to hold you and know what it’s like to feel you clench down on his metallic fingers.

“I can feel you..You’re so wet down here..” His eyes are half lidded, both of you panting breathily, his stiff cock twitches in his confinements of his sweatpants as he watches your mouth part as the cool metal fingers pump in and out of you. He imagines how it would feel so much better to have you clenching around on his cock instead but he is a patient man. His cock was aching to be coated with your weakness but he’s waited much longer.

You whimper, moaning out his name breathlessly while rolling your hips against his hand. Caleb watches your trembling form as he finds that sweet spot only he can reach inside you. Each thrust of his cold fingers pushes you further into a state of pure ecstasy. He sped up the pace, targeting your sweet spot over and over again until your body washes over with absolute pleasure. He helps you ride out your orgasm before withdrawing his fingers from your throbbing cunt. He raises his metal arm, his fingers still warm from your core, licking it out of satisfaction.

if you haven't already read it, here's the other version where you caught them! caught white handed!

my other works: masterlist pg. 1 , p.2

[hwalovs]

Absolution, My Fine Friend (M)

Pairing; Priest! Jayce x Fem!Reader Word Count; 4.9k Warnings; Porn Without Plot (kind of), mutual masturbation, finger sucking, drooling (Jayce), he gets talked through it, misuse of the confessional, trying not to get caught, paper eating, misuse of a bible, blasphemy, religious kink, corruption kink.

Summary; Father Jayce has done his best to forget the sin that permeates his office, taking refuge in the confessional. Maybe, by listening to other ask to be forgiven, Father Jayce himself can earn his absolution.

First Sin; Temptation Second Sin; Absolution (currently here)

A/N; this can be read on its own, i think, but part one was a hit in my books and i couldn't stop thinking about Father Jayce and reader. Theres also a little someone on ao3 who sent the most amazing comment and I got a fire ignited under my ass so now we're here. Again, this is dedicated to my babies on discord, all of them. This wouldn't be here without them. Anywho, enjoy!

THIS IS NOT EDITED!

DO NOT COPY, REPOST ON OTHER SITES, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK WITHOUT PERMISSION!

Absolution; Formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment. 

It’s customary for the Priest to wait in the confessional, sitting in the small box for the small door on the other side to open, a person to come sit down, and confess to him their sins. From there, he would listen, give advice, and pray with them before sending them on their way. It was something he had done multiple times before, finding comfort in the enclosed space. His own body heat would keep him warm, heating the small space rather quickly. Taking off his rosary, he could drag the small chain through his fingers, playing with the beads. He would think of prayers, roll a bead between the pads of his fingers, grip the small cross and lightly kiss it. He would do this for hours, sometimes someone would arrive, sometimes there would be no one. 

The sun was shining brightly through the small lattice on the door in front of him, directly in his eyesight, blinding him. Gold light filtered through stained glass, casting an array of colorful rays across the pews and patrons. Eyes clenched shut, he sits taller while leaning his head back against the wood, sighing. There was an imaginary clock in his mind, constantly ticking away, bringing a faux comfort. He could hear the slight commotion of people still in the church, talking to loved ones and neighbors who were all smiles and high off of the worship he held. He needed something more to keep him distracted, the LED clock in the confessional was silent, unlike the clock in his bedroom. Its ticking filled his mind now, his foot tapping the ground along with it. 

Arms moving, he moves the slowly sliding bible back into its place on his lap, the book small enough to sit idly on his thigh. It rocks back and forth in time with the bouncing of his foot, the movement bringing yet another distraction.

He wished to go back to his room, sit at his desk in his office- no, the desk in his bedroom. He hadn’t sat at the desk in his office for eight days, two hours- his eyes crack open to peek at the small LED clock in the corner of the confessional- and forty-five minutes. He prayed for the strength to sit at the mahogany desk, to write correspondence to other churches, and send letters to the people who gracefully sent donations. 

Yet, perhaps he didn’t pray hard enough, didn’t kneel at the side of his bed long enough. Didn’t sit in this small box long enough. Perhaps, God has turned his nose up at him, forsaken him from the greatness of being forgiven. Even now, your ghost had its claws wrapped around his heart like a vice, whispering obscenities into his ear while he was alone. You were the one who led him down this path, and now he searched for the bright light of God with his eyes closed. 

Guilt eats away at the fibers of his soul, rips him apart late at night when the image of you appears in his mind, a giggling smile on your lips as they skim across his throat. Your hands were so warm, though, dragging across his body without condescendence. He would wake up and find himself sweating profusely in his cold room the next morning, breathing heavily as his hands grip the blanket. With shaking legs, he would sit up and rip the drawer of his night stand open, glare at the blue rosary that was tied tightly around a small bible, and grab his new one. 

He would drop to his knees, heart racing, and pray until the sweat on his back dried. 

Even now, he thinks he can sense you in this enclosed space with him. Your scent lingering in the air around him, permeating his clothes no matter how many times he changes or washes them. 

Hands gripping his rosary, he hopes the metal cross cuts into his skin. Maybe then, if he sacrificed his blood, God would see he was punished long enough. Maybe then, he could be forgiven. Your face appears in his mind, and his teeth clench. How could you do this to him? Reduce him to nothing but the filth that lines the pristine floors?

Jayce startles when the door on the other side opens, his breath quick as he shifts in place. Clearing his throat, he waits for the person on the other side to get comfortable, their throat clearing. It's silent then, both Jayce and the newcomer getting comfortable with each other. Jayce’s eyes clenched shut, your scent washing over him with newfound strength, the hair on the back of his neck stands and as if he was struck with lightning-

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”

Your voice. 

His heart shakes, muscles tight and his breath short. Immediately, he thinks he can zone in on your breathing, so calm and quiet. Eyes cracking open, his head tilts to the lattice, and he can see your lips curved into a smirk. It's sickening, how the sight of you can make him feel so electric. You ignite something deep within him, akin to a lighter held under a sparkler. His stomach clenches, and his leg stalls its bounce. Fingers gripping his rosary, the sudden weight of the bible in his lap taunts him. 

“I’ve never confessed before, could you guide me?”

“I-” his voice squeaked out, and he snapped his jaw shut. Swallowing, Jayce looks back to his lap, gazing at the rosary. Was it just him, or did it suddenly look like the blue one he cast aside? Was the small figure of Jesus gazing with accusatory eyes? Did he know what was reeling in his mind at the sight of you?

“Father?”

His eyes shut tight, head falling towards his chest, shoulders hunched, robes tight over his shoulders, “I listen to your confession.”

It took a lot of strength to force his voice into a steady cadence. The small box seemed to be a little too small, he seemed too big to be in here. What once was comfort, was now torment. Your voice filled his side, bouncing off the wood and surrounding him.

“I give you advice, and you’ll- um,” he shifts in his spot, refusing to meet your gaze through the lattice, “You’ll be on your way.”

“Are you alright, Father?” You’re smiling, he just knows it. He can see your face behind his eyelids, how bright your gaze is, how your pupils are dilating at the sight of him so unkept. 

Nodding his head, he takes one more deep breath. He couldn’t let you see him like this, he was supposed to push what happened between you to the back of his mind. Forget it, even. He was praying to God for forgiveness, and by letting you entrap his senses, he would be pushed back to step one. 

“What was that?” Taunting, you hum, “I didn’t quite hear you.”

Shivering, he lifts his head and finally gazes through the lattice, meeting your sharp eyes. They’re encapsulating, looking at him with knowing. You can see him for what he truly is, a man of sin. 

Yet, it was your fault he was like this, why he swallows a whine and lets his mouth open to answer. If he were to put on a strong front, you would understand why he couldn’t progress in this sinful back and forth. Couldn’t let you torment him with your pretty words, or your addicting touch. 

“I’m here to listen to your confession, please just-” voice trailing off, his hands grip the rosary for comfort, but all he finds is the sharp edges of the cross. 

You chuckle, head leaning against the wood, raising your hand to tap your forehead, chest, and each shoulder. 

“In the name of the Father, Son, and The Holy Spirit. My confession, Father, is that I cannot stop thinking about you.”

Jayce smiles, gaze locked onto his rosary, “That’s normal- I’m your Priest-”

“No, Father,” voice quiet. serious, you shift closer to the lattice, “I think of you when my fingers are inside me, I wish they were yours-”

Muscles tight, Jayce says the first thing that comes to mind, “that was a mistake-”

“Was it? You seemed to enjoy yourself a lot, Father.”

“Temptation is a powerful thing, but you must find it in yourself to resist.”

There’s silence on the other side, your gaze assessing him. Humming, you let your head swing to the side, your own fingers rubbing across the tops of your thighs absentmindedly. 

“How can I resist, Father?”

Finally, his lungs allow air in. He breathes deeply, ignoring his shaking hands. He ignores the fire in his gut, how his thighs clench together, and recites words from the book still resting in his lap, “Asks for guidance out of temptation, and for the strength to use the Word of God as a weapon.”

“Ah,” you sigh, “the Word of God as a weapon? Do you really think that’ll save me?”

There's a teasing tilt to your tone, and Jayce ignores it. Voice closer, you whisper through the lattice, “have you been saved, father?”

“I ask for forgiveness, just as you are now,” he whispers in return. Hands shaking, he lets his fingers return to fidgeting with the rosary beads. His mouth waters, wanting you to drop it into his mouth-

No, he cannot think of that. He was a holy man. Faithful to his God.

“So, you’ve confessed?”

Nodding, he bites his cheek, his skin burning, “I- I have.”

“Liar.”

White hot fear runs through his veins, and his hands unknowingly release the rosary. It clatters to the ground between his feet, and his eyes meet yours. They narrowed, disappointingly pointed his way; All of a sudden, he felt the roles reversed. 

“No-”

“How often do you think of me, Jayce?”

Heart racing, his hands grip the tops of his thighs, feel the muscles beneath tighten. 

His chest heaves, and his legs clench together. Pushing back that licking flame that ignited between his legs, all because of your voice. It's sticky-sweet like honey, drowning him in molasses that clogs his senses. He can feel his cock twitch, wanting your touch instead of his. 

Head leaning back against the wood, he can feel a droplet of sweat run down the back of his neck, soaking into the roman collar. His shaking hands move to grip his bible, fingers sliding between the pages to seek any form of strength. He can hear it rip under the pressure of his grip, yet how else would he ground himself? His mind races, feeling your eyes staring at him through the lattice

“Does your God know you think of me as much as you do him?”

Jayces’ shuddering breath is loud, eyebrows furrowed as he wills his racing heart to calm. He must not give in. This must be another test for him, he thinks. This was God's way of seeing if he was worthy of forgiveness. 

Yet, you seemed so genuine, even if you sounded teasing. 

“What do you tell yourself at night? Maybe I could speak the same, so I can forget about you.”

A whine, and Jayce thinks he doesn't want you to forget him. He couldn’t forget you, no matter what he did, what he said, or tried. Stomach turning, he can see your waiting eyes, how you won’t change the subject until he gives in. 

“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us of our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.”

“Ah,” you nod your head once, “Do you want to be forgiven, though?”

He’s silent, clenching his teeth, “Of course.”

You sigh, and with a low voice you talk with a harsh tone, “then why are you still speaking to me?”

“I-” voice stuck in his throat, Jayce knows he’s had the opportunity to steer the conversation back, to not engage you in such sinful conversation. Yet, he craved it. To be told what to do, to be on his knees between your knees instead of the altar. 

“Oh,” you say, Jayce freezing. Had you read him so easily?

“Oh, you’re liking this, aren’t you?”

Whining, his thighs clench. You laugh, and it makes his chest seize. Cock jumping in his robes, Jayce refuses to touch himself. There were people outside, they would hear-

“I’m liking this too,” you whisper, and he can hear the first button pop from your pants. Shoulders tense, his breathing turns rapid. 

“You’ve plagued my mind everyday, Jayce, its tormenting-”

A zipper, and Jayce can feel his thighs shake. His fingers curl against the pages, and he clenches his eyes shut. You were taunting him, you wouldn’t touch yourself now, in the confessional of all places. 

“You-” he whines, “you’ve been tormenting me-”

“Good,” a sigh, and he wishes to be in the small space with you, to tear down this wall to see your form in all its glory, “should we pray together, Father? Beg together for forgiveness?”

Shivering, he pushes his head further against the wood, swallowing with a dry throat. 

“Lord God, in your goodness have mercy on me: do not look on my sins, but take away all my guilt. Create in me a clean heart and renew within me an upright spirit-”

Your voice starts immediately after his, repeating his words, breathy and soft. The fire, slowly swelling in his stomach, licks and burns at his chest at the sound of your sweet voice wrapping around each syllable of the prayer. He sets the bible in the small space beside him, sliding his free hands across his torso. 

He moves, fingers undoing the buttons of his robes. With a shaking grip, he slowly pushes it to the side, the air wrapping around his thighs. Cock jumping, Jayce whines softly. His hands rest on the inside of his thighs, his cock radiating heat under his boxers. Chest shuddering, his back slouches, legs spreading. 

“forgive all my sins, renew your love in my heart, help me to live in perfect unity with my fellow Christians that I may proclaim your saving power to all the world.”

Tone shaking, he barely opens his eyes to find you already looking at him. Your own eyes were half lidded, chest heaving as your mouth opened to copy him once more. He can barely see you, but he can make out how your shirt was pulled up on your tummy, your pants undone, your hand hidden under the fabric. Your back was arching, neck exposed to the light that seeps in. 

He can’t help himself, his hands grip his cock over his boxers, hips jumping into the contact. Jayce growls, rough and gravely as he grips the base of his clothed cock.

“Jayce,” you whimper, and he moans. You sounded so heavenly, his mind reeling at the cadence. 

“Do you think we’ll be forgiven?” You ask, smirking. He shakes his head, and watches as your gaze shifts to the ceiling. Eyes closing, your eyebrows furrow as you lose yourself in your own pleasure. Jayce whimpers, wanting to be the one giving you that pleasure, he wants you to be above him, using him, punishing him for being so sinful. 

“Keep talking, Jayce, be a good boy.”

“Hnng- I-” he chokes, snapping his gaze to his lap. There was a rapidly growing wet patch at the tip of his cock, he grips the top of his boxers, pulling the elastic away to push it down his thighs. The fabric is tight against his skin, straining. With his cock finally free, he softly trails the tips of his shaking fingers along the shaft. Twitching, he presses his finger into the beads of pre that seeps from the tip. 

“Tell me another prayer, Father,” it's harsh now, how your eyes glare at him. He bites his cheek, sparing a glance to the bible next to him, searching his mind for anything to say. All he could think of, though, was you. 

“Therefore, confess your sins to- to one another and pray for one another-” he sighs, tears gathering on his waterline as he finally grips his cock tightly. His thumb swipes across the tip, and he moves his wrist once, slowly pumping his cock from top to base, and back up again, its uncoordinated, sloppy, “that you may be healed. The p- hnn- prayer of a righteous person has great power as it- it is working.”

“I want to taste you, Jayce,” you whisper. He hips jerk, and his eyes snap to the lattice separating you both. You’re so much closer, and when he leans close to look closer, he can see your pants pushed down your thighs. The soft skin of your thighs looked so inviting, spread as far as the restricting clothing will allow, your fingers circling your pulsing clit as your other hand grips onto the edge of the seat. 

“You can’t,” he whimpers, much louder than he intended. He wanted nothing more than for your mouth to taste him, replace his shaking hand and bring him to euphoria once more. 

“I can,” you reply with a hiss, “the gap is wide enough, let me taste you.”

Jayce furrows his eyebrows, his focus turning to how big the gap actually was, it was small enough that at a glance you wouldn't be able to decipher what was on the other side. Yet, if you looked close enough, you’d be able to tell what was what. His hand leaves his cock, gathering his sticky pre onto the pad of his middle finger, and slowly raises it to the gap in the lattice. His chest shudders as he watches you move, meeting your lips on the other side. 

His moan is loud, reverberating in the space as your wet tongue wraps around his finger. You're sucking hard, teeth grazing his skin, the breath escaping your nose warm on his already scorching skin. 

Your mouth is gone just as quickly as it wrapped around his digit, your tongue swiping across your bottom lip as your hand drips deeper on your cunt, no doubt pushing them inside. 

“You’re an angel,” you whisper, and Jayce’s back arches slightly. His hand retracts from the lattice, immediately running the spit coated skin across his lower lip before sucking his own finger. He could taste you, the candy you ate, the coffee you drank, and he could taste himself. A tangy saltiness that lingers in the back of his throat. 

He almost sobs, drool dripping down to coat his palm. When he pulls his finger away, his hands are replaced onto his cock, now glistening with the collection of his and your spit. He doesn’t realize that he’s gasping for air, his legs shaking, the choked sound of a whimper pushing from his throat. 

“Be quiet, Jayce.”

Licking his lips, he clenches his thighs shut, pushing his head back against the wood. His cock was throbbing in his grip, and when he slowly rubbed his thumb across the tip, he moaned. 

“I-” he swallows, throat suddenly too dry, “I can’t, I’m sorry-”

You sigh, and he can feel his stomach clench, “grab your Bible, show it to me.”

“What?-”

“Show me your Bible, now,” you hiss, and his hand leaves his cock to grab the leather-bound book. Raising it, he refuses to look at the gold writing across the front. 

“Good boy, open it up for me, any page will do.”

Dropping it from your gaze, he lets the binding fall to any page, heaving as his eyes blearily look over the page. The text was so small, mixing together in a conglomeration of sentences and prayer he could no longer read. All he could think of was you you you you-

“Rip out a page, and put it in your mouth.”

Freezing, Jayce finds it hard to breathe. Rip out a page? That’s blasphemous.

“Since you love to recite God's words so much, why don't you eat them so no one can hear what's rightfully mine?”

Jayce can’t, he simply can’t. By doing this, he would never be forgiven- 

Yet, would you forgive him if he refused?

You can sense his racing mind, your voice a calm beacon in the rough waves of a storm, “Tell me another prayer, Father- One more, just for me.”

Jayce breathes deeply, calming himself, “You are my refuge and strength; no matter what happens, I trust You and will not be afraid.”

“Good boy,” you coo, “do as you're told, Jayce.”

Mind over matter, Jayce forces his unwilling hands to rip a page, bringing it slowly to his lips. The pages were thin, and when he pushed it against his tongue, his spit immediately soaked through it. The ink was slowly seeping from the paper, bitter against his tongue. He looks at you, teeth chewing down onto the paper to keep it in place. 

Smirking, you tilt your head, “another.”

He rips multiple pages at once, pushing them between his teeth to meet the other. 

You scoff, “such a good boy, doing what you’re told. Yet, you can’t follow your own God’s teachings.”

He can do nothing but whimper around the pages, his hand dropping the bible to the ground to grab back onto his cock, jerking his wrist to the sound of your voice. 

“You would do anything I ask, wouldn’t you?” You taunt, your own hand picking up its pace. Sweat shines on your forehead, lips glistening with spit as you shift in your spot, your other hand joining the one on your cunt. Whimpering, you push your own fingers inside, the other still circling your swollen and throbbing clit. 

“How far would you go for me, I wonder?” A sigh, and your eyes close. Smiling at the thoughts that race through your mind, “would you leave the priesthood for me?”

His head nods before he even realizes it, your head snapping to watch him, smile widening. 

With the small semblance of clarity in his mind remaining, Jayce thinks of the forgiveness he’s been begging to receive for weeks. 

It’s always been you, he realizes. You’re the one he seeks forgiveness from, you’re the one who he prays to each night. Not the God whose teachings he no longer follows. Not the God who judges him for feeling emotions only you can bring him. You would forgive him, you wouldn’t judge him for his actions. He would do anything for you, he thinks. If you asked him, he would be yours- he was yours from the moment you sat on his desk.

His pleasure washes over him in waves, no longer held back by guilt. He allows his hand to squeeze, feels the bite of pleasure in his thighs. 

Your whine makes his hand jerk faster, that sweet noise the only thing that he seeks out in the night. Breathing heavily, he bites down on the pages still lodged in his mouth. Some were becoming too soggy, the ink transferring onto his tongue. 

“I’m so wet, Father-” you sigh, and he can hear your fingers run through your sloppy folds. It’s pathetic, how his hips rise off the seat to chase after it. He wanted to see, wanted to taste you-

“Do you want a taste? I bet you do.” He whines, tongue pressing against paper and you laugh. It's quiet, airy as you release a breathy moan. His eyes strain to watch your mouth drop open, your fingers pressing against your tongue. Eyes watering, he clenches them shut and leans his head forwards against the lattice, the wood cool against his scorching skin. 

Your fingers trail down your chin, chest heaving, and you push your hand back through your folds. Your soft skin glows in the light, blue’s and pink’s coloring you Holy as your glistening fingers come back into view. Instead of raising to your lips, they slowly close in on the small openings of the lattice. Your other fingers were still inside you, he realizes, you were halting your own pleasure just to tease him. 

“Why don’t you taste what I give? Rather than your God,” you taunt, glint in your eyes. Without hesitation he lets the soggy paper drop from his mouth, drool pouring from behind. Down his chin, soaking his beard. Bits of paper remain on his lips, the bitter taste of ink left behind. He can faintly hear the paper hit the floor, a wet smack, and he runs his tongue across his lip. He didn’t want anything to dilute your taste, not even his own spit. 

The tips of your fingers appear on his side, and he surges forwards to meet them. His tongue touches soft skin, lips pressed against wood. You push further into his mouth, your slick coating his taste buds. It washes away the taste of paper and ink, his body shivering as his hand grips tight onto his cock. It pulses, begging for your touch instead of his.

“I wonder what God would think, you forsaking his word for such sin.”

He whines, tongue parting your middle and ring finger to taste the slick between, feeling you press down onto his tongue, sliding as far as the lattice will allow. You almost hit the back of his throat, and he pushes harder against the wood, wanting you as deep as possible. 

“Fucking-” you hiss, retracting your finger and quickly licking across the tips before pushing them back between your folds. The sloppy-slick sounds louder than before, his hand trying to catch up to your rapid pace. 

There's a fire growing inside him, quick and unrelenting as his hand sloppily jerks his cock. His thighs twitch, toes curling in his shoes as his lungs beg for more air. Although he was gasping, he felt like he wasn’t getting enough air. 

“Don’t you fucking cum yet,” your voice growls, and he sobs. Pressure behind his eyes, scalding tears on his cheeks, his tongue searching for your taste that lingers. 

“Jayce-”

“Please- I-” he whispers, hearing the horrifying sound of heels against the floor outside of the confessional. Could they hear what was happening inside? Hear how their priest was touching himself, committing a sin he was no longer guilty about? 

His hand falters, cold humiliation creeping over his shoulders. 

“Ignore them, puppy-” your voice borders a whisper, “keep going- tell me another prayer.”

He looks to you, sniffling lightly as his hand resumes its previous pace. Nodding your own head, you encourage him. There was a gathering heat in his gut, embers collection to prepare a large bonfire. Your gaze threw wood onto it, flames catching quickly. His thighs felt gooey, his mind blank, but he wills himself to think of any prayer, just for you. 

“To all those- those that repent of in this wise- Oh, hnn- and look to J-Jesus- Christ for their salvation. F-fuck- I declare- that the absolution of sins is effected- please, oh fuck- In the name of the F-father- and of the son, oh- hnng ‘m gonna- Wait-”

“You can finish father, come on-”

“Mm- and- i can’t- h-hold-” he begs, your voice pushing him impossibly closer. 

“And of the Holy Spirit, Amen-”

Fire under his skin, and he feels his release begin. A raging fire in his gut, spreading to his thighs and chest. It tingles so intensely, and his hand clamps over his mouth, biting onto his palm to muffle his strained moan. Blinding white explodes behind his eyes, and he can faintly hear your cooing voice talking him through it. He wanted to hold your hand through this intensity, wanted your calming embrace rather than the prayer that was seared into his mind. God could no longer provide comfort, for you had burned him away to make space for your own presence.

He can hear your own whines, choked moans as you, no doubt, go through your own orgasm. You bite down on your cheek to keep yourself silent, hips canting into your hands to chase that pleasure. Jayce tries to watch, but his hands feel his thighs, and can't think of anything else but the euphoria he was feeling. 

Heavy breathing is what he hears when he comes back, his hands and skin covered in his own sticky release, cock still throbbing and red, yet too sensitive to continue. His abs hurt, his arm was slowly relaxing from the cramping that occurred. Licking his lips, he brings his hand closer to his mouth, tempted to taste the opaque liquid that coats him. 

Feeling your eyes on him, he looks over, you’re waiting on the other side of the lattice. With shaking hands, he raises his tired arm, slides his finger through the lattice, and feels your tongue wrap around the digit slowly. Heart in his ears, he makes circles on your tongue, feeling the muscle move and chase after the cum, a smile slowly stretching across his face. 

Your hand appears, your own shining fingers pushing through the gaps in the lattice, and Jayce wills his lethargic body to move to wrap his own lips around your fingers. His cock twitches at the taste of your own cum, his tongue licking away the sweet-tart taste. Your face was so close, he could feel the breath from your nose against his cheek, your body heat seeping through in the slightest. When he pulls away for air, he opens his mouth to speak. 

A voice beats him to it, though, older and questioning.

“Father?” 

Ice cold fear, and he tilts his head to stare at the door ahead.

[cyberrmusee]

got a request for loser!choso by an anon :3 hope you like it anon!! :D

loser!choso who always watched you from afar, admiring your popularity as you hung with a large crowd of friends, smiling and giggling, jealousy bubbling in his blood.

loser!choso who always secretly left you flowers and notes on the windshield of you car, too scared to face you himself and talk to you, with your large crow of friends surrounding you constantly.

loser!choso who finally gained a modicum of confidence and started complimenting you on your cute & preppy outfits and the way your hair always looked so pretty, a blushing stuttering mess every time he spoke to you—avoiding eye contact.

loser!choso who became obsessed with you and kinda started stalking you on campus, sort of on accident definitely not, he knew your favorite food spots, watched you at every party you attended and even memorized your coffee order at the nearby cafe after watching you order it every straight for a week.

loser!choso who was a complete perv and snapped pictures of you when you weren’t looking, they wouldn’t even be provocative, just pictures of you mid conversation with someone or standing alone, he’d be pumping his pathetic cock in his hand at night while swiping through his camera roll, whimpering your name as he came on his own hand, wishing it was your tight cunt instead.

loser!choso who got caught by you, snapping the pervy pictures of you in your cute little skirt, you scolding him while dragging him by his ear telling him how he’d make this up to you by doing your homework assignments for a month.

loser!choso who finally got to feel your pussy grip him during your ovulation week while you were over at his place letting him do your homework—

his hips clapping against your ass relentlessly as he chased his and yours nth orgasm, while he practically cried into your pussy, profusely apologizing and begging for god knows what, but his hips never faltering.

“m’sorry—ngh—m’sorrrryyyy.. so so s-sorry.. please.. please… pleaseeeee”

you were ruined, you stopped counting how many times you’d came long ago, a mess between your legs as he held your head down into the pillow with one hand while the other held your hip in place. watching his cock slide in and out of you, obscenely loud sloshing and squelching noises bouncing off the wall right along with his whimpers as he reached another climax, abdomen tightening as he staggered his hips and came, painting your insides white with his hot seed for what had to be the millionth time.

you slumped forward, legs and body trembling from the way his cock worked your cunt out, only for him to flip you over into missionary, and get in between your legs, no fucking way, he was still hard.

“no more cho… can’t take it” you breathed out. he whined and leaned closer placing himself at your entrance “m’sorry, just one more.. please.. please.. need it.. need you.. pleaseeeee”

you rolled your eyes “fine one more.. then we’re done, you’ve got homework to finish” you huffed tiredly.

he stopped listening after he heard you say ‘fine’ and sunk right into to you, already crying and whimpering while he rocked his hips forward.

you were sort of amazed at how he could just keep going, how hard he stayed for you, it was kind of an ego boost and you smirked tiredly thinking to yourself ….

fucking loser.

[im-fine-polities]

What I find really interesting about the Thunder Saga is like…Odysseus wasn’t wrong? I can’t say he made, like, great decisions. But who could have? He’s the captain. He’s the one who has to make the hard choices.

If you don’t sacrifice six men to Scylla, she’ll sink your ship. The heads will take bites out of the masts and hull and anything else they can get their teeth on. Odysseus HAD to sacrifice six men to get the rest of them home. There was no correct choice to make. But someone had to make it. So Odysseus did, so no one else would have to. So he would be the only one with that guilt.

Isn’t that why it’s a tragedy?

[feroluce]

Belobog was my fave main quest but a lot of it is so. Contradictory. It's like they had multiple groups doing different shit and none of them checked in with each other for consistency. And you see this so much in Gepard's profile.

So in the main quest, they made him unfailingly, unquestionably loyal to Cocolia. Gepard's character arc is him learning to question authority etc etc. And this isn't even a bad thing; that's a story worth telling! It makes good conflict between him and Serval! And I love that we got Gepard as a boss battle and I get to see him all the time in SU!

But then you look at his character stories and it's like. The complete opposite.

According to his profile, Gepard has already HAD this awakening, long before the Astral Express, and he'd already decided Cocolia sucks. Even outside of his stories, there's a pretty damning readable between him and Pela.

He even disobeyed direct orders right in front of her- he has been disobeying orders for a while now!

So I've decided I'm marrying the two different sides of this into a 1.5k fic-ish thingy, because I think there's some fun potential there with Gepard not trusting Cocolia, but still having to pretend to be a good obedient little soldier.

Anyway. I love to think of it as like. Gepard knows Cocolia has sunk into her apathy. He can see it in her eyes every time he looks at her. She doesn't care. Not about him, not about Pela, not about all his soldiers on the frontlines giving their lives to protect the citizens. And that's... It makes him bristle a bit, but ok. Gepard can deal with this. Even if Cocolia no longer cares, as long as she does her job then it's fine. Having compassion behind an action doesn't matter as much as the action itself. If Cocolia's heart is no longer swayed, then he'll just have to care twice as hard to pick up the slack. He considers it part of his duty as a captain of the guard anyway. It's fine. Gepard can deal with it.

And then, Cocolia starts coming down to the restricted zone. Issuing direct orders.

And Gepard realizes he is in way over his head.

Because Cocolia orders him to stay back and issue commands from the ramparts, away from all his comrades, away from where he can protect them.

Gepard had thought nothing could be as bad as watching a fellow guard die right next to him. But the first time he watches someone struck by a killing blow, so far away, it hurts. Every defensive scar across his arms itches, his fingers curl in want of a weapon, the cold cannot numb his hands enough as they desperately ache for his shield. It hurts.

Gepard tries to find any reason to stay. Because surely... He knows Cocolia has lost her love for her people, but surely... She wouldn't...

One day, Cocolia orders for their gunners to advance 20 yards. There are no survivors. She almost looks like she smiles.

Gepard doesn't sleep that night.

Pela brings him the report at the end of the first month; and then the month after that, and the month after that. A significant uptick in losses, and all of it started on that first day Cocolia started overriding his authority and issuing her own orders. The ends of Gepard's pens have all been nearly chewed off. Pela outright calls Cocolia an idiot, and Gepard corrects her. Cocolia isn't an idiot. Gepard had known her through Serval, knew her through all her college years and then some, and he knows how intelligent she is. It's not that she's stupid, and it's not that she's inexperienced, it's nothing of the sort.

Cocolia knows exactly what she's doing.

She must, there's no way she could make such a horrible mess of things so badly by accident. And Pela, quick as a whip, sharp as a tack, always too smart for her own good, catches onto the meaning behind Gepard's correction without any further prompting. The tent goes deathly quiet, nothing but the wind howling outside.

"...She's trying to kill us," Pela whispers, her voice swiftly suffocated by the silence.

Gepard swallows. He can't bring himself to correct her this time. There is nothing he could say that he would actually mean.

His gaze drops, back down to his desk and the reports on it. The names aren't listed, just the numbers, but Gepard knows them, knew them, and there must be something wrong, something he's missing, because why, why would she-? What could this possibly accomplish-?

“Gepard! Focus!” Something snaps right under his nose, and Gepard startles, eyes instantly honing in on Pela's irritated face as she leans over his desk. She holds his gaze for a moment before she huffs and begins to pace, wedges a knuckle between her teeth and bites like Gepard hasn't seen her do since cadet school.

Pela angrily strides from one end of his tent to the other, words hissed between her grit teeth. “What are we going to do?” In the dim lighting, Gepard can just barely see the damp spot of blood weeping under her gloves. “We need a plan.”

“A plan?”

“Wh- Yes, a plan! Unless you want more people to die!” Pela rounds on him then, all the wrath of a blizzard, winds roaring and snow sharp enough to cut.

“We don't even know-”

“What does it matter?! She killed-!!” Pela cuts off with a garbled noise when Gepard leaps up from his desk, hastily shoves his hand over her mouth. The prosthetic, not the flesh one, because he knows better than to assume Pela won't seize the opportunity to leave teeth marks in his skin.

“You're right. I'm sorry, I'm sorry; you're right. But you need to keep quiet.” Pela quirks an eyebrow at him and Gepard can read the question in her face. “Because we both saw what she did to Serval,” he hisses.

It's amazing the snow plains haven't thawed out yet, the amount of heat Pela can put behind a glare. The mere mention of Serval, and the smoking ruins Cocolia had made of her life and career, have her bristling up like a riled cat. The sudden hot breath she takes fans fog across his metal skin, and Gepard wisely keeps it in place until Pela finally sighs and reaches up, taps her fingertips against the back of his hand.

The second she's free, Pela bats him away and then her knuckle is right back between her teeth again, Gepard leaning back against his desk with his arms crossed to watch her resume her pacing. “If we spread the word, she'll have us discharged and make sure we can't even touch the frontlines,” Pela's voice seethes like an open sore. Gepard nods but keeps his silence. He knows better than to get in her way.

“And if you and I are both out of the picture, Belobog is fucked.” A little harsher than how he would have put it, but there's no denying that they're both important to the city's survival. Pela has the restricted zone running as efficiently as ever, and Gepard had become the youngest captain on record for a reason. “We need to keep this tight under wraps, at least for now… It can't leak to anyone higher up the chain.” Another nod. “Serval might know other discontents…” Another n-

Gepard's head snaps up. “No.”

“No what?”

“No. We're not involving Serval in this.”

Somehow, even the same tone that leaves entire squadrons shaking in their boots has never worked on her. “You're not deciding that for her, Gepard.”

Pela hadn't seen the worst of it, though, back when his sister had just been banned from the Architects. Serval's pride hadn't allowed it. Pela wasn't the one to find her passed out bottle still in hand, hadn't been the one to wash the sick out of her hair or carry her to bed. 

Serval still has trouble thinking clearly when it comes to Cocolia, still can't quite bring herself to be objective. And Gepard maybe doesn't want her to be purely objective- but he would worry a lot less if she thought twice before she acted more often.

“At least let me be the one to bring it up to her.”

“Whatever, fine,” Pela gestures affirmatively at him as she paces past, and Gepard sighs. Good, at least that's one thing he can help.

From there, it's a lot of hemming and hawing and frustration. Cocolia has them under her boot, and Gepard and Pela both know it. Even with the way she's been cracking down on freedoms lately, Cocolia is still, overall, liked by the people. It's unlikely anyone would believe them. They don't even have solid proof, because most people don't know Cocolia as well as they do and won't see the clues in the same light. 

The Fragmentum has been ramping up in recent years, too. Everyone is struggling just to survive as is, they can't afford a fight on two fronts. Gepard is a damn good captain, one of the best for that matter. But they're at a massive disadvantage, his experience is narrowed to fighting a defensive battle against monsters, that's all he's ever done. That's all anyone there has ever done. He has no way of finding first-hand knowledge for taking the offensive against a human opponent, and if he goes at this blind, there's no way he'll get everyone out unscathed. He's going to lose people. He's going to lose a lot of people.

He'd never thought before that Cocolia would have it in her to have someone killed. And with this new knowledge, he has no guarantee she won't go after Serval or Lynx if she decides to retaliate.

Gepard has to remind himself to breathe when he realizes this.

Pela writes down every name the two of them can come up with. Lists and lists of names and groups and anyone they can think of who might be an ally in all of this. They memorize every bit of it, make their plans of who to talk to and when. Gepard watches the sparks reflect off Pela's glasses as they burn the evidence together.

Pela finally leaves, far too late to make it home, but says she wants to stay in the restricted zone anyway to investigate. Gepard watches her make her way in the direction of Dunn's tent, watches her back until she's out of his sight and squashes down the urge to follow and keep an eye on her. His tent feels empty.

In the morning, Gepard is up before the wake up bells. He drags himself out of bed, leads his soldiers through their morning training. The same people gravitate to each other everyday. Friend groups and training partners. There's an ongoing rivalry between a few squadrons that everyone bets on. Some of them have lockets around their necks, keepsakes, mementos. Some of them wear wedding rings.

Gepard is suddenly, painfully aware of something acidic clawing at the inside of his throat, of a heavy weight low in his chest that blooms, takes up room until it threatens to spread his ribs. His mouth tastes of bile and blood.

He rearranges the schedules. Puts himself down for every open patrol into the Fragmentum, makes sure he'll be on the frontlines every single time Cocolia visits.

He only hopes that it's enough.

[practically-an-x-man]

I'm gonna be fr

Not enjoying the fact that tomorrow I take Loki to the exotic vet and then have to work in the afternoon/evening.

If all goes well, it'll be fine. They'll pull the tooth, and then either I'll go pick him up or my dad will pick him up for me (depending on how long it takes, though I figure it shouldn't take real long). I won't have a great time at work with that on my mind, but it should be fine.

But he's an old man and pulling the tooth means anesthesia, and if something ends up going wrong... I mean, the dystopian hell of losing a pet and then still having to go put on my uniform and cheerily sell people makeup has been rattling around in my brain all day.

[meezer]

we are so back. for a second I thought she might drop my ass in the GARBAGEEEEEE. but we called and she helped me find a solution and she's not mad at me at all 😭😭😭

[cesium-sheep]

actually it does kinda bother me that I'm not being asked because he wants support or because he genuinely thinks it's fun, I'm just being recruited to placate a shitty parent that isn't even mine. but, yknow, I messed it up last year, I can bite my tongue this year. and if it sucks as much as I think it will that's more grounds for arguing against it next year. who cares if it ruins my favorite day of the year, right?

[the-rogue-mockingjay]

I crave stretches to ease my chronic pain (which is likely, but not confirmed to be, fibromyalgia) but I can't even describe how much I utterly loathe and despise yoga

I also long for swimming but the public pool here is ass and the building really should just be demolished and a new one built, and it is too cold for 90% of the year to go swimming in the lake :( the beach was also covered in swarms of dead damselflies last time I was there....

[doumadono]

Warnings: smut w/o plot, first time, creampie, unprotected p in v

A/N: during his first time with you, Bakugo is caught off guard by the expression you make

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

Katsuki Bakugo wasn’t used to feeling uncertain, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. In fact, he hated it. Confidence was a part of him, woven into every fiber of his being, but tonight, as he hovered over you, his cock buried within the warmth and slickness of your tight pussy, his heart racing in tandem with yours, doubt had snuck in like an unwelcome visitor. Fearless and brimming with confidence, the young pro hero who could take on nearly any opponent without breaking a sweat now found himself in uncharted territory. 

Bakugo had never been this close to someone before. Sure, he'd been in countless fights, bodies colliding in the heat of battle, his skin pressed against opponents in the chaos of combat. But this? This was different  - this was intimacy on a level he'd never known. It was raw, vulnerable, and new. His heart pounded, not from adrenaline, but from the weight of the moment. It was his first time, and thankfully, it was with the person he cared for the most, the one he loved with every fiber of his being - Y/N.

You were warm and soft beneath him, your skin flushed and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat as he moved against you with a mix of urgency and care. His breath was ragged, heavy, and every touch of his fingers against your skin seemed to ignite a trail of fire that left you gasping for more. His hands roamed your body, firm but gentle, as if memorizing every curve, every inch of you. 

His lips brushed your neck, tracing the delicate skin there as you arched into him, your body responding instinctively to every subtle shift in his thrusts. His name escaped your lips, breathless and soft, and the sound of it seemed to fuel him further.

Wet, sloshing sounds filled the room. You were hot down there, your pussy now a frothy heaven for Bakugo’s cock. His dick bumped and rubbed against your insides, reaching places that made you whimper and your lips tremble. 

Katsuki picked up the pace, and you grabbed his ass and hooked your heels over the back of his massive thighs. His hands, usually rough and calloused, were tentative now, roaming across your hips and thighs with an almost unfamiliar gentleness. "Is this good?" he asked, his usual gruff tone softened by a vulnerability he wasn't used to.

You could only nod, a soft moan escaping your lips as his lips found your neck, teeth grazing your skin in a way that made your entire body shiver. You were already lost in the sensation, but Bakugo was hyper-aware of everything - of how your body moved beneath him, of the rise and fall of your chest, and especially the way your face started to change as the pleasure built between you. His cock was thick, and you moaned whenever your pussy stretched further, trying desperately to accommodate him fully. 

Bakugo was cautious, almost too much so, taking his time with every touch, every caress. The weight of his inexperience pressed heavily on his shoulders. He sped up as the warm lick of your sweet pussy wet his crown, and your spongy walls hugged his reddened glans in a velvet blanket of softness. Bakugo moved faster, a little harder with every thrust.

You smiled up at him, your breath hitching slightly as his rough fingers slid over your skin. “Just like that, Katsuki, fuck me harder,” you begged, rolling head backwards, resting it on his pillow.

His sharp, crimson eyes studied you, searching for any sign of discomfort. He was fiercely protective, always wanting to do things perfectly, even if it was something as foreign to him as this. He moved with a cautious eagerness, his normally confident demeanor tempered by the weight of wanting to make sure he wasn’t hurting you while his rock-hard cock was penetrating your slick vagina.

But then it happened. As he pressed forward, his hips meeting yours in a slow, deliberate rhythm, he noticed something - your face. 

It started to shift, contorting into something unfamiliar. Your lips parted, eyes fluttering closed as a moan escaped you, but it wasn’t the sound that made him freeze.

“Wait - wait, what’s wrong?” Katsuki suddenly stopped, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled back just slightly, the tip of his cock still in your sweet pussy, his heart thudding in his chest.

You opened your eyes, half-lidded and dazed, looking up at him with a dreamy, confused expression. “What?” you breathed, your voice thick with desire. “Why did you stop, Katsy?”

He blinked, completely thrown off by your reaction. “Your face…” His brows furrowed deeply, voice dropping lower in hesitation. “You looked like you were in pain.”

You stared at him for a moment, processing what he said. Then, much to his bewilderment, a soft chuckle escaped your lips, your head tipping back onto the pillow. “Katsuki… I wasn’t in pain,” you assured him, still smiling up at him. “I was- " You hesitated, eyes sparkling with amusement. " -just really close.”

He blinked, clearly confused. “Close to what?”

You bit your lip, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Close to cumming.”

Bakugo's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. His grip on your hips loosened, and for a moment, the cocky hero was at a loss for words. “Tch!”

You laughed softly, leaning up to kiss him gently, your lips brushing against his in a way that made his heart race. “You’re doing great, Katsuki. You’re not hurting me. You’re making me feel really, really good.”

Bakugo’s face flushed a deep crimson, his mind racing as he stared at you. “I think I found your sweet spot.”

“Yeah,” you interrupted with a grin, reaching up to brush a strand of his blond hair from his forehead. “I was about to come, and you apparently hit my gspot.”

His eyes widened, mortification flickering across his face. “Shit…” he muttered, running a hand through his damp hair in frustration. “I thought I hurt you or something.”

You shook your head, your hand finding his again, giving it a gentle squeeze. “No, Katsuki. You were perfect.” You couldn't help but smile softly, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “It’s my o-face.”

His brows knitted together in confusion. “What the hell is an o-face?”

You laughed softly, your fingers trailing down his arm as you explained. “It’s the face people make when they’re close to orgasm. It’s completely normal, trust me.”

Bakugo stared at you for a long moment, the tension in his shoulders slowly easing as your words sunk in. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” you reassured him with a gentle kiss on his lips. “You didn’t hurt me. You’re just making me feel so good. Like I would be on cloud nine.”

His face flushed again, but this time with a mixture of pride and embarrassment. “Tch! Should’ve fucking known,” he muttered, trying to play it off, but you could see the relief in his eyes.

He had never been more unsure of himself. Not in training, not in battle, and certainly not here, in this moment, with you.

That look on your face - the way your eyes had rolled back, the way your mouth hung open, the way your tongue slid out of your mouth and lolled like a slug - it stuck with him. He couldn't shake it. 

He watched it carefully this time, his sharp gaze never leaving your face as his rock-hard dick moved inside you, adapting your plush walls to his shape. The way your breath hitched, the way your body arched beneath his touch - it was the same, but something felt off. Your eyes were wider, almost unnaturally so, and your mouth hung open in a way that unnerved him. It wasn’t the same as the night before, and it sent a cold shiver down his spine.

His hands roamed across your body, fingers digging into your flesh just enough to leave a mark. He pressed his hips harder against yours, eliciting a gasp from you as his cock hit just the right spot. He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through your chest as he dipped his head down to bite gently at your neck when your pussy started convulsing all around his dick. “You’re gonna make that face again, ain’t ya?” he muttered against your skin, his voice husky with need.

You nodded, barely able to form coherent words. “Katsuki, please… don’t stop this time…”

That was all the encouragement he needed. His pace quickened, each thrust sending you closer to the edge, and this time, when your face began to contort again - your eyes rolling back, mouth falling open - he didn’t stop. He relished it. He knew now that he was the one driving you to that peak, and the thought of making you feel that good sent a surge of pride and arousal through him. “Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, watching you fall apart beneath him. “You look so hot like that, babe.”

This time, when your face contorted with pleasure, Bakugo didn’t freeze. He kept going, fueled by the knowledge that he wasn’t hurting you, but instead giving you exactly what you needed.

“Katsuki-” you gasped, your hands clutching at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as your climax ripped through you. Your body convulsed beneath him, and this time, he didn’t freeze. He kept going, riding out your orgasm as you moaned his name, your voice ragged and breathless.

How own orgasm trembled within him. The pleasure started in his thighs, buzzing up to his tight balls and into his core, then through his shaft. His knob tingled, and his cock swelled, still buried within your dripping pussy. He gasped and fucked you faster, gliding in and out of your soaking wet valley as his body began to shake. Colors and lights soared behind his clenched eyelids. 

You bucked your pussy against Bakugo, rolling your hips in a sensuous circle as you flooded your crotches with your wet, sticky cum, moaning his name on and on.

The torrent that streamed through his shaft erupted from his reddened tip in one continuous river, filling your vagina as he trembled above your sweated body, lost in the ecstasy of the moment. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m cumming…”

When you both finally came down from the high, your body trembling with aftershocks, Bakugo slowed his movements, his breathing heavy and labored. He looked down at you, his chest heaving as he smirked, clearly satisfied with the result. “Fuck. I fucking love the face you make when you’re getting off,” he growled, rubbing his nose against yours as he pulled his flaccid cock out of you, satisfied in more ways than one while watching your mixed releases, a pearly, thick liquid, spilling out of your pussy and dripping down on his sheets.

Bakugo grinned, his cocky demeanor returning in full force. “Damn, that’s so fucking hot,” he muttered before rolling to the side, pulling you into his arms. “Next time, just warn me if you’re about to make that face again. I don’t wanna freak out like an idiot.”

You smiled, snuggling closer to him. “I’ll try.

[tonycries]

Brooklyn Baby - G.S.

Synopsis. Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. Said Suguru doesn’t want to fuck anyone else but you. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.

Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rock star! AU, fwb-to-lovers, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), fingering (female receiving), Suguru is sinfully sexy and in l*ve with you, Satoru is a menace, pet names (darling, my girl), Suguru has tattoos and piercings, swearing.

Word count. 3.2k (DAMN I got carried away)

A/N. Happy Valentine’s day! *throws somewhat-fluffy smut at you and leaves* 

Art by @_3aem on X.

Also, wild west! AU longfic with someone dropping on Sunday night (EST), keep your eyes peeled yeehaw.

Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades.

You did. Your fans did. Hell, you’ve even caught your overworked band manager sneaking a few too many glances. 

And, you conclude, the groupies currently batting their lashes at him definitely did. 

You watch as they swarm to him during open rehearsal, giggling at his pretty smiles. 

Whatever, part of the job anyway.

It’s not like you two were dating. Yeah, a few fucks here and there throughout the years - but what’s one to do when on the road and in such close proximity with a guy that’s practically walking sex? 

Trying not to scowl, you turn away from the commotion, continuing to tune the strings of your trusty Fender. You’ve had your fair share of die-hard fans, so lately why did it bother you so much when Suguru entertained their thinly-veiled advances? 

“Ohoho~ Quite a look on your face there, why don’t you go and caress his biceps too?~” you hear idiot brigade member #1, Gojo Satoru, cackle from beside you. 

If looks could kill, Satoru would’ve been 6 feet under and rotting already. “I thought you stopped writing band fanfiction, Satoru.” you raise a brow. 

“THAT WAS ONE TIME.” he whines dramatically, clinging onto you and shaking you back and forth as if to knock the memory of his Wattpad tendencies out of you. “WHY ATTACK ME JUST CUZ YOU’RE JEALOUS? C’MOOON ADMIT IT.”

You were not jealous. 

Suguru knew you were jealous.

Sneaking a glance, he had to fight the urge to coo at the adorable little furrow of your brows. How unprofessional would it be if he walked off mid-conversation to kiss that pout off your lips?

He knows it’s just sex for you. But - foolishly - every time he held you he could only hope that he ran through your mind as often as you did through his. It elated Suguru to know you were getting that worked up over him. 

That is until, out of the corner of his eye, he spots Satoru draping himself all over you, whispering god-knows-what into your ears. 

The rational part of Suguru knows Satoru is a very touchy person, but why was he so…close? And why weren’t you pushing him off?

Smile tightening into something a little more artificial, he turns to the girls fawning over him. “Well, ladies, I’m sorry to say I’ve gotta go practice before Shoko yells at me again. I’ll see you all in the front row, yeah?” he lies smoothly, disappointed whines following him as he makes a beeline for your figure.

“Well! What have we here, Satoru, are you done tuning?” Suguru pops a head between yours and Satoru’s overly close ones, interrupting whatever conversation you were heatedly whispering. What was so important that you two needed to be that close to talk anyway?

He narrows his eyes at Satoru’s surprised ones, an invisible conversation taking place between them before Satoru cracks a smug grin. “Alright alright. I’ll go tune my guitar.” he rolls his eyes, heading for his electric blue Gibson. 

Your confused gaze meets the twinkling eyes now boring down at you. “Done with the meet-n-greet already?” you question, eyes darting to the group now watching you two like hawks.

The smile on Suguru’s face grows, “Yeah, remembered I didn’t do my pre-concert rituals right.”

“Oh?”

“Wanna help me with it?”

He doesn’t give you time to answer. Quickly setting down your guitar, he drags you out into the corridor - hand tightly in yours and pointedly ignoring Satoru’s wolf-whistles. 

Hallway sex is overrated, Suguru believes - which is why he heads for the dressing room. 

“Pre-concert rituals” his ass, Suguru just thinks he might pass away if he doesn’t get his hands on you right now. Make you feel like his.

It’s not long before the door is locked and he has you bent over the vanity, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. 

“S-Sugu! Why now? The concert- Hah-” You gasp in pleasure as two long fingers probe inside of you, ruthlessly searching for the spot that Suguru knows would have your toes curling and eyes watering deliciously. 

“Fuck the concert, darling. Barely even started and already so wet f’me.” he drawls out over your whimpers. “Wanted you to come over y’know? And save me from those groupies trying to get in my pants.” 

In your lust-hazed mind, you find the words to respond to him, “You s-seemed to - hah - be enjoying that.”

“Of course not.” he leaves a trail of kisses down your back, “Wasn’t my favorite girl.” he whispers into your heated skin.

He’s being rougher than usual, he knows. In the back of his mind he wonders what it was that he was so pissed at. But all thoughts of that are thrown out the window once he presses into that plushy spot inside your wet core, drawing a sinful whine from your mouth. There.

Pulling back to tease your folds with your own slick, he plunges into your swollen pussy once more, easily hitting that spot over and over. 

“Hngh- Suguru, more!” you grind your hips to meet his merciless rhythm, clenching around his fingers. 

You feel as if you’re losing your sanity when he adds in another finger, walls burning as your cunt stretches around his thick rings. 

Suguru was definitely losing his sanity. 

Anyone could walk by. The concert was about to start any second now. But he couldn’t give less of a fuck, too focused on how his fingers were being sucked back in every time he pulls out, your pretty pussy dripping all over his numerous bracelets.

He has to hold back a moan at the way your ass jiggled every time your hips buck to meet his fingers. 

Leaning down over you, he hums lowly into your ear “So desperate for me, hm?”. Pressing the erection straining against his trousers against you, he huffs out “I’m the same, darling. You drive me absolutely mad.”

He feels the way you squirm in impatience at the large outline of his dick, raising your ass in an attempt to get more friction. Eyes crinkling in satisfaction, he pushes down on his girl’s slutty hips, cold rings digging into the small of your waist. 

“Now now…not yet.” he tuts mockingly. 

“Please, Suguru. Please let me cum.”

Increasing his pace, abusing your g-spot relentlessly, Suguru knew by your breathy moans of his name that you were getting close. 

His hand moves from your waist, leaving behind purple marks to remember him by. They wander the expanse of your body - groping your curves, and pinching your nipples through your thin top - delighting in your mewls.

God, you were perfect. He really needed to take his time with you later.

Suguru’s hands, nail polish chipped and fingers calloused from years of playing, finally rest on your face. He pushes your cheeks together, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth and forcing you to look at him through the vanity mirror in front of you. Your dazed eyes meet his darkened ones. 

Suguru was so feral. The man that was usually the personification of grace and poise was falling apart at the seams. His eyes wild and grin spread devilishly as his fingers abuse your cunt never-endingly.

“Look at me when you cum.” he murmurs raspily into your neck, teeth ghosting over your rapid pulse.

You don’t know what it is that sends you over the edge - maybe it was his lustful words, or the way his fingers quirked just right inside of you. All you know is you’re cumming all over Suguru’s fingers, hands clutching the vanity table and eyes locked with Suguru’s in the mirror, mouth dropping into a gasp.

“Fuck! Suguru- Suguru!” you whimper.

Suguru watches in wonder as you ride out your orgasm, using him. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.

Let them see how beautifully you fall apart because of him.

Finally pulling out, Suguru inspects his fingers. “Now now. That won’t do.” he purrs. 

His tongue erotically licks up your juices covering his rings, still holding eye contact with you through the mirror. He catches the way your thighs press together at his lewd act. ‘Oh? Want some?“ he teases. 

Before you can retort, he’s bullying his fingers into your mouth, making you taste yourself. 

The way you moan around him sends blood rushing straight to his cock. Fuck, he has to steel himself from cumming in his pants right then and there - that wouldn’t be very “sex icon” of him. 

You have no idea what you do to him.

Not willing to wait any longer, he leisurely takes a seat on the spacious vanity sofa. You whine at the loss of contact before catching the predatory look in his eyes. Suguru was going to eat you alive. 

“Come on, darling. Show me how badly you want me.” he grins, legs spreading and prominent bulge on display. 

You take a second to admire the view. Tousled black hair falling enticingly along Suguru’s muscled shoulders, tattooed dragon peeking through where his shirt was messed up. His eyes lustful, and locked on you. 

He was devastatingly handsome. Your mouth waters at the chance to get what so many people would kill for.

Suguru chuckles as you struggle to unbuckle his belt - did rock stars have to always wear such complicated trousers? 

Finally, you pull them down along with his boxers to expose his creamy thighs. Suguru’s throbbing erection lays on his abs, flushed a delicate pale pink.

Your pussy quivers with excitement as you press wet kisses to Suguru’s leaking head, precum dripping down his length to where you’d gently grasped him. A strangled hiss leaves his mouth as you swirl your tongue around the slit. You find yourself lost in his heady taste - he tastes so good.

“Having fun, darling? C’mon now, use me the way you want.” he murmurs, need laced into his voice.

You’ve never gotten used to how big Suguru is. Soft groans leave his mouth as you flatten your tongue and take him in inch by inch, eyes locked with his blown-out ones.

Suguru’s back arches as the heat of your mouth envelops him, hands bunching your hair into a messy ponytail. His pornographic groans echo across the dressing room as you suck on his cock, tongue swirling in just the way you knew he liked.

He can’t even catch his breath with the way you bob your head so heavenly, sucking the soul out of him. It drives him wild to think about how he’s got his lead guitarist on her knees, choking on his cock as your fans wait outside. 

Suguru’s eyes roll to the back of his head as you pop off his cock to take his heavy balls into your mouth, moaning around them as you suck on both erotically.

Shit, he was really feeling it today. 

Through the bangs now sticking to his forehead, he makes out the way your thighs grind against each other for relief. 

You were, too.

If this keeps up he really will lose his sanity.

“As much as I’d love to paint your pretty face with my cum, I think we both prefer it inside, no?” he grits out, cock twitching at the strings of spit and precum connecting you to him as he pulls you off. 

“Need you inside me so badly.” you nod, brain foggy and filled with only Suguru.

He’s quick to lift you into his lap, resting your ass against his pulsing cock, sly grin spreading at the way you’re already so fucked out. 

Suguru feels like he could cum just from the sensation of your juices smearing all over his length, pussy dripping and aching for his throbbing cock. 

“Oh yeah? How bad?” he purrs, eyes half-lidded and already knowing the answer.

“Please. I want you to fuck me so badly, Suguru.” 

“Badly enough that you’d fuck me out there - where everyone is? Show ‘em who I belong to?”

“Yes.” 

At your whimper, Suguru thrusts fully inside you, a moan of relief leaving you both as you finally get what you’ve been craving for. 

“Shit, so tight. Always so good for me, darling.”

Once you start, it’s hard to stop, Suguru finds. 

It happened when he first fucked you in high school - in his car after your first show, running on adrenaline and teenage hormones. And, years later, it’s happening now as he sheathes himself in your wet cunt. 

He just can’t get enough.

He fucks you animalistically, cock ramming in and out of your hole in a way that makes it feel like you’re missing something without him. Nothing in the world other than your two connected bodies. He feels you clamping down on him deliciously, ego growing at you struggling to accommodate his size. 

“F-fuck, darling. Hah- It’s s’tight. Take it like my good girl.”

“Hngh- Suguru, faster!” you groan, fingers delicately playing with the nipple piercings peeking out of his barely-buttoned shirt, euphoric at his drawn-out moans. 

Unlike Satoru - who takes off his shirt every chance he gets onstage - Suguru was one to shy away from showing skin, slutty piercings and tattoos hidden to the world. It just makes it all the more satisfying as you lick a long stripe along the dragon on his shoulder. 

Feels like your little secret. You wanted to be the only one to see this ethereal sight.

“Ah- So good, darling.” Suguru leans back, allowing you more room to play with him as you please. Cock twitching - so close - as you bore into his eyes, sucking his flashy piercings. 

He ramps up his pace, bouncing you on his cock in a way that was carnal. It was so feral, the way his balls sting as they smack your ass, a ring of spit and precum forming around his base. 

His cock aches for release, but he wants to see you cum first. His pretty girl, cumming all over his throbbing cock.

You pull yourself off his swollen nipples and attach your mouth with his, tongues swirling sensually as he kisses you like he needed you to breathe. 

He’s almost as unforgiving with his mouth as he is with his cock. Almost.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“YOOO I don’t know if ‘pre-concert rituals’ was a code-word for something else but we’re on in twenty minutes.” the unmistakable voice of Suguru’s best friend - and occasional bane-of-his-existence - made you two jump apart. 

“The ultimate cockblock.” Suguru sighs out - his pace, however, does not slow down. Each harsh thrust makes it difficult to muffle your yelps of pleasure from Satoru, who was still calling for you two from outside.

Noticing your predicament, Suguru grins dangerously. “Oh? My poor girl finds it hard to stop her moans? Aww, better try harder unless you want dear Satoru finding out.” he mocks in your ear. 

Both humiliated and turned on by his words, your dripping pussy clenches around his cock. He lets out a choked-up groan, biting hard into the crook of your neck to stop it.

A satisfied smile spreads across your face, “Who should try harder now, Suguru?”

Ah, perfect. You were perfect, perfect for him.

As Satoru’s yells about “cutting a chunk out of Suguru’s pay” disappear across the hallway, both of you let out exhales of relief.

“Dangerous game you played there, mister.” you raise a brow, teasingly.

He chuckles out, before pulling you to him closer by the waist. Lips ghosting over your own, he whispers “Only with you, my darling.” 

Slightly more clear-headed but still dripping with lust, you meet the bounce of Suguru’s hips with your own. Eyes still locked with yours, he stuffs you with every inch - tip kissing your cervix so painfully good. 

The steady slapping of skin and synchronized moans fill the room, blocking out the cheering of the audience awaiting your band. 

Yet, the air crackled with something different this time. For the first time, it didn’t just feel like just mindless fucking.

Bite mark on your neck stinging, you could feel Sugurus heartbeat thundering under your touch - synchronized with your own.

In this moment it felt like just you two in this world. 

You wanted to be the only one in his world. Not his fangirls, not some manager, not anyone else. 

Maybe that was the reason for your courage, feeling like everything has finally come to a boiling point. 

“S-Suguru.” you breathe out as you feel yourself getting closer. 

“Mhm?” brows furrowed, he looks up at you with a tenderness in his eyes that does not translate to the merciless cadence of his hips. 

“Be mine.”

And that’s all Suguru ever wanted. 

With a final hard thrust of his cock, he pulls you into a searing kiss that sends you both over the edge. He cums in hot spurts, thick ropes of seed filling your quivering cunt. It was feral - and it made you feel like his. 

Suguru’s seed drips down the side of his length, forming a white ring at his base as he fucks it deeper into you, letting you ride out your highs together.

As your climaxes bate, he buries his face in your neck, kissing softly over the mark from before. “To be yours is everything I could ever want, darling.” he breathes out, hugging you closer as if to hide this vulnerable moment. But you feel the heat of his cheeks on your skin.

Embracing him, you gather his beautiful black locks in your hand, fingers deftly taking the hair tie around your wrist to tie his long hair into a messy ponytail. 

Pulling back, you admire Suguru’s angelic features. Face flushed, lips swollen, and dark eyes half-lidded as he stares up at you in surprise.

“Wanted to see your pretty face.” you huff out a low laugh.

The expression on Suguru’s face is indescribable, such pure adoration in his eyes. 

Voice low, he murmurs words meant only for you, “I…I’m in lov-” 

“HEYYY I’m serious, stop doing the devil’s tango and GET THE FUCK OUT.” Satoru’s voice bellows once again through the door, shattering the little bubble you and Suguru had found refuge in.

“Ah- um-”

“You-”

Both of you stammer out at once, chuckling at how shy you were acting with one another even after all that had transpired in this room.

“We should probably go, before Satoru and Shoko pop a blood vessel.” Suguru jokes. You laugh out in agreement as he carries you tenderly to the washroom, his interrupted words weighing heavily on both your minds. It’s okay, you have time. 

Rapidly cleaned up and dressed, Suguru stops, a hand on the dressing room doorknob. “”Hey..” he starts almost-hesitantly, “After the concert, would you maybe want to-”

“Yes.” you interrupt, excitement lacing your voice. 

Chuckling in pure euphoria as you both exit, your smiles turn more sheepish as you’re faced with a bored-looking Shoko and an impatient Satoru tapping his foot. “You horny lil’ fuckers almost missed the show, think of my poor fans~” he exclaims, though the glee in his eyes at your intertwined hands was very evident.

“Hope the sex was good at least.” Shoko drones out, eyes flitting over your guilty flushed faces. 

‘Oh yeah, and Suguru - next time you dump your fangirls on me, I chop your balls off.“ she chirps out, pointing her drumsticks threateningly at his neck as you all head back.

Blinding lights. 

Deafening screams.

Hair pulled into a messy ponytail, he was fatally beautiful onstage.

Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. 

But he only wanted to fuck you.

A/N. MMMMM long-haired men.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[shaisuki]

❝ I CAUGHT MY ROOMMATE MASTURBATING, I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT! ❞

cw. voyeurism + masturbation (f & m) + dubious consent + dry humping + blowjobs + fingering.

roommate! geto who one time catching his fellow roommate humping one of their owned plushie like a bitch in heat. door ajar, enough to take a peek of what you're currently doing. the plushie in between their legs, trapped and squeezed while you grind your pussy like your life depended on it.

roommate! geto listening to your sweet moans, blissfully low as you watched one of those stupid porno, the wire of your earphones tangled. your body trembling at the small sparks of pleasure coursing through your plush body.

roommate! geto who should be respectful as one should be to someone's privacy but he can't tear his eyes off from the way your body moves. covered in a thin sheen of sweat while soft whines leaves your mouth. trying to keep the moans at bay.

roommate! geto who watch his sweet, chubby roommate with eagle eyes. anticipating your every move and watch as your hips roll to meet the poor plushie who is being squeezed by your creamy thighs. your hand forming into a fist as you grip your sheets.

roommate! geto is rock hard from watching you pleasure yourself. never did he thought that you can be this alluring. his cock straining his pants uncomfortably. palming to relieve the pressure from how good you are grinding that plushie.

roommate! geto who wishes that his face is in the place of your plushie while he eats you outs. lick your folds and suck that cute, little clit of your. be suffocated by your creamy thighs around his head while you call his name.

roommate! geto grunting as he tugs on his pants, boxers following to jerk his cock to the rhythm of your grinding. beads of pre-cum leaking through his tip. eyes closing in bliss to the sound of your moans. he's not even scared that your gentleman of a roomie is jerking at your door.

roommate! geto who cums hard from the sound of your whining as you came. panting and huffing slightly as you rode out your orgasm. hugging your pillow tighter from the sparks of pleasure coursing through your core.

roommate! geto is quick to clean himself up and made a beeline to his room. it's like he didn't hear his roomie masturbating to some porno. he can't get out of his brain to the memory of you. your soft, plush body in all glory and the soft rolls of your back and the sound of your voice burned in his memory.

roommate! geto acts like nothing happened. acts like he didn't watch you pleasure yourself while you walked to your shared kitchen. fetching yourself a pitcher of water from the fridge and he never leave his sight on you. raking the expanse of your body. the plumpness of your stomach, the thickness of your thighs, the swell in your chest and lastly, that cute round face of yours that can get away with a crime. oh, how adorable you are and he wonder if you'll make the same when he's the one whose making you cum. again and again.

roommate! geto hears you talk through the phone with your friend. it's not like he's eavesdropping. it's an accident of course. the thin walls are to be blamed. you sound so worried about going to a date and learning you are not experienced and afraid that you might be able to please your date if you two can get down to business.

roommate! geto casually talking to you until cornering you to open up about the upcoming date. sharing a few tips to keep the guy interested in you, he says but in honesty he don't want you going on a date with a stranger.

roommate! geto listening to you who naively gives him details about your date and how worried you are since you have no idea what is about to go on and him casually suggesting he can teach you.

roommate! geto convincing you to do it and he got you now seated warmly in his lap.

roommate! geto who whispers you sweet nothings. telling you that you should not be nervous while his large hands are in your round stomach. groping and squeezing the malleable flesh like he can't believe how soft and squishy it was.

roommate! geto telling you to relax. it won't be good if you're moving that much and how would he be able to teach properly if you keep squirming and so he began to kiss your round shoulder to your neck and then to your cheeks. praising you how a good girl you are when he felt you relax and your back is comfortably pressed against his chest. totally leaning on him and suguru welcomes your added weight. he just can't wait to eat you.

roommate! geto is playing the hem of your panties before pulling it down. spreading your thick legs for his hand to cup your heat. he tells you that for to please someone you need to know what you want first. caressing the inside of your soft thighs before his fingers slowly rubs your folds like he was testing the waters and it earns him you. your breath hitching and your voice turning into soft mewls.

roommate! geto parting your folds with his fingers before dipping it to caress the squishy flesh of your labia. the pads of his fingers rubbing your clit which earned a gasp from you and he knows it's going to be good from the way you act. “does it feel good?” he murmurs. his lips muffled in the skin of your neck. his index finger poking your hole. “want me to stretch this tight hole of yours?” he hears you say yes. nodding in desperation and fuck did it feel so tight. his thick finger is only in and your hole doesn't feel like accepting it so he added another finger that got you squirming uncontrollably around him.

roommate! geto shuts your mewling with a kiss. shoving his tongue insider your mouth and began swirling the wet muscle while he added a third of his fingers to your pussy that is already weeping with slick. his fingers simultaneously pumping your insides while he kisses his cute roommate. drool seeping in the corners of your mouth. “you like my fingers inside you? much better than your cute plushies, is it?”

roommate! geto who never leaves his sight when you came undone to his fingers. coated with your delicious slick and he needs to eat that pussy of yours. he licks his fingers clean while you watch and you're so damn adorable. your flustered expression like you're one innocent roommate of his.

roommate! geto whose hard on is pressed against your ass. desperate in need of attention and he knows he's leaking and need to feel that soft cunt around his hard cock but he must let you feel the outline of his cock when you're humping him. your plushies won't be no good after this. he needs you to rely your pleasures to him.

roommate! geto turns your around to face him. your legs are besides his own. completely straddling him and your fat pussy is above his clothed erection. soaking his boxers with your slick. you feel him underneath you. throbbing and pulsing and you can feel the veins wrapped around his cock and the feeling of it shoots sparks of pleasure deep inside you.

roommate! geto looking so beautiful below you. his long jet black hair cascading down his lower back and his bangs is framing his sculpted face. a thin sheen of sweat in his forehead and the stray hairs of sticks to his forehead but he looks beautiful nonetheless but it was nothing compared to his roomie who is straddling him. staring at him with those cute doe eye of yours and effortlessly not-so-looking fucked but he knows he's getting nearer. his hold on your back firm and he can't help but to mesmerized at your fat cunt pressed in his clothed cock.

roommate! geto who guides you to move your hips as your grind on his cock. his large hands are in your plush waist while he builds the rhythm that is both good for you and him. he watches you through lidded eyes from how your mouth is slightly patter. slow moans escaping from them as your soaked folds are in his cock. your clit is rubbing to the outline of his cock and it makes you squeal when he forces you to grind harder.

roommate! geto who's in full force to take advantage of this. it's not even teaching you anymore. it can wait for a another day or the later night. is just it feels too good to have you above him. your puffy folds are weeping in his cock and it just makes his cock throb more from the delicious friction of your cunt. he can't also help that your skin is exposed and begging to be marked by him and so he did. he's putting hickeys while you cry. your fingers are threading his hair as you grab them. unconsciously pulling them as you grins on his cock.

roommate! geto cums hard and he's sure his boxers are stained with his cum. groaning from his release and pulls you to kiss him in which he does with passion. fervently kissing you like there's no tomorrow.

roommate! geto who helps you clean up after that. he can teach you about it later and telling you to rest after that. makes sure you're properly resting after that exhausting and it was worth every single second of it. he can just wait to fuck you and forget that stupid date but it was thanks to that he got you.

roommate! geto is now teaching you how to properly blow someone. that's why you're in between his muscled legs. kneeling between them as you stroke his cock like he instructed you two and now you're licking the tip of his cock. his hands holding both of your round cheeks. “breath through your nose, baby.” his voice gentle as he teaches you. you're taking his cock now and it makes your eyes prick with tears as the tip of his cock is now hitting the back of your throat.

roommate! getowhose moans are sexier and is music to your ears. that's why you're slowly bobbing your head to get more of his length. it doesn't help that he's thick that's why you have to take him in your mouth while your eyes burn with tears. you take of what's left of his length to your hands. squeezing it occasionally and feel it throb to your hands. you also fondle his balls that gets him riled up. it doesn't take long that he's shooting off his load deep in your throat. almost making you gag but you take it. swallowing his warm cum down your throat and opening your mouth that you swallow all of his load.

roommate! geto who says that you're ready and it's now up to you and he's sure that you'll be able to please your date. although he's jealous deep inside that it's not him and he's a little happy that you're pleased with your work.

roommate! geto anticipated the time were you're prepared for the date. he makes sure he's cleared of any errands that he needed to do. he can't have someone taking you that is not him. so he waited for you to get dolled up and the breath is knocked out of his lungs when he sees you all dressed up. looking so adorable and divine. the dress you picked up is highlighting all of your curves. it doesn't help that you asked him how you look and he loses control.

roommate! geto who easily picks you up despite your weight. ignoring your protests as he hoists you up in both of your shared kitchen marbled top. you're asking him what gotten into him and he's hungrily claiming you. his apologies late as he tears the dress off you. “forgive me, tell your date that you're not meeting him tonight. i just can't let him have you.”

roommate! geto who takes you that night. making you forget that you have the date as he got his head between your legs. slurping that delight that your pussy releases. his head being crushed by your thick thighs almost suffocating him but he doesn't care. he got you screaming that night as he squeezes and licks every stretch mark he can find. making you're worshipped and fucked by his cock.

roommate! geto takes you to his room and never letting you leave him until you're stuffed full of his cum and leaking in his bed in which he finds satisfying. no one can have you now that is not him.

roommate! geto pulls you closer to him as he cuddled into you. both of you are naked covered in his sheets while he kisses the top of your head. his hands are warmed by your love handles and just relishes on the softness of your body against his hard ones.

roommate! geto who stares at you while sleep peacefully. so beautiful and adorable in his eyes. his roommate. he knows now that he's fully smitten to you now and he hopes you feel the same or else he's just going to fuck you until you say you love him.

roommate! geto is contented. it's not always an accident when he catches you pleasuring yourself and is not a one time. he got you under him all the time and now, he won't never let his eyes take off on you.

[girlrotterr]

✩ ⁺ ∿ oh baby, can you hear me moan? ◦　 ♩

roommate!ellie x reader Summary: You come home earlier than usual to find your roommates door slightly ajar. You can’t help but peek inside.

You’re home earlier than usual, and the place is eerily quiet—no random guitar strumming or the faint hum of a video game in the background. Ellie’s always got something going on, whether it’s tinkering with her beat-up acoustic guitar or completely failing at some cooking experiment that leaves the kitchen smelling like burned regret. 

You shrug off your jacket, the familiar scent of scorched food hits you—a sure sign Ellie’s been at it again. 

You can almost picture the disaster waiting in the kitchen. 

Maybe she attempted a stir-fry or tried to get fancy with eggs, which, for some reason, she consistently messes up. You remember the last time: the pan had been abandoned in the sink, its bottom crusted with what could only be described as scrambled cement, and Ellie had offered you an apologetic grin as she flicked at her guitar strings, mumbling something like, my bad…

Still smirking at the thought, you head toward the kitchen, but surprisingly, the mess isn’t as bad as you expected. A single burnt toast sits abandoned on a plate, and beside it, a bottle of peanut butter left open, its lid placed on the edge of the counter. You grab a spoon to clean up, noticing that Ellie’s nowhere in sight. Usually, she’s hovering near her messes, trying to fix it or making self-deprecating jokes to play off the mess.

Curious, you wander down the narrow hallway toward her room, your steps thudding along  the old wood floor. You pass by her door, which is slightly ajar, and immediately slow your pace. 

It’s not like Ellie to leave her door cracked. 

Your hand pauses on the doorframe, a soft click as your knuckles accidentally tap against it. 

You hesitate, thinking maybe you should leave her be, but then—before you can make the decision—a faint noise escapes from inside, followed by a sharp, quick breath. 

Your brow furrows as you inch closer, pushing the door open a little more.

Ellie was sprawled across her bed, her head thrown back against the pillows, messy hair fanning out in every direction. Her breath came in uneven gasps, wet, squelching sounds filling the room. 

Fuck, she was too desperate to even bother taking off her clothes. 

Her brown jacket hung loosely off her shoulders, the fabric wrinkled and tugged from her movements. Her half-unbuttoned flannel exposed her perky nipples, her jeans were pushed down just past her thighs, the belt hanging loosely, the metal buckle clinking against her skin as her hips rocked. 

Your breath hitches, catching in your throat as you take in the sight of her hand pumping beneath her boxers, her movements quick, almost frantic. Heat floods your body, cheeks burning as your eyes lock onto her. 

"Oh fuck, yes," she breathes, her voice low and rough. 

You can’t tear your eyes away. 

Ellie spread her legs wider, her right thigh twitching slightly as her fingers pump deeper inside.  Your cunt began to ache as your eyes caught on what she was holding. It was your panties—your favorite pair—clutched tightly in her fist, the soft lace crumpled and wrinkled between her fingers. You swallowed hard, eyes tracing the wet patch staining the fabric, the glistening spot a clear sign that she had been grinding against them. 

“Just a little more…” she breathes, eyes fluttering shut as she loses herself in the moment, her lips parting slightly. “God, I needed this…” 

“Come on, don’t stop,” she murmurs, biting her lip, her brow furrowing in concentration. “Just a bit more… just like that.” There’s desperation in her voice, a plea.

“Fuck, why is this so good?” she gasps, her voice whining with need, eyes still closed, lost in the sensations of her aching cunt“Why does it feel so much better when I think of you?” 

“Ellie…” you breathe, barely a whisper, but she doesn’t hear you.

She’s too lost in her own fantasy. 

"God, I love this," she moaned softly, her voice husky, as her hand moved frantically between her legs. Her fingers pumped faster and faster, her perky tits bouncing with each thrust, the bed beneath her squeaking. "Can’t get fucking enough."

You knew you should turn away, that you’d crossed a line simply by staying. 

Your breath hitched, the air suddenly too hot, as your hand slipped beneath your waistband, trembling fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your panties. You shifted them to the side, biting your lip as your fingers found your aching clit, tracing small circles. 

You tried to keep your breathing shallow, hoping she wouldn’t hear you over her own sounds. Your soft moans mingled with the wet, squelching sounds filling the room. The heat between your legs became unbearable, a pulse that only grew stronger with each passing second. 

“Need you to fucking take it," Ellie breathed, her voice low and ragged. Her hips bucking harder, the pace of her fingers desperate. 

"Oh fuck," you whimpered, your voice shaky as the ache in your hole pulasated. The need was overwhelming, your hole throbbing with a desperate hunger you couldn’t ignore, your fingers moving faster to keep up with ellie’s pace. 

Ellie’s eyes narrowed, her brows furrowing together as her movements slowed. You watched, breathless, as she pulled her fingers out of her drenched hole, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Without hesitation, she pressed your panties against her soaked pussy, the lace clothing her cunt as her slickness coated the fabric.

With a low groan, she began to grind against it, her hips bucking, pressing harder and faster into the softness of the fabric. Her lips parted, a ragged breath escaping as her eyes fluttered shut, her head falling back against the pillows. The wet lace clung to her, the friction of it only making her grind harder.

"Love this... fuck, your panties... can’t get enough..." Her head fell back again, and she let out a deep groan, her fingers pressing the lace even harder against her aching clit.

A moan escapes your lips, quiet at first, but growing louder as the pleasure builds inside you. 

But in your desperation, you leaned a little too close to the door, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. 

You and Ellie freeze, eyes locking in a moment of shock. 

Ellie’s eyes widen, her mouth agape.Her gaze drops slowly, lingering on your body, taking in the sight of your drenched pussy, your panties pushed to the side, the fabric clinging to your trembling thighs. 

You can hardly breathe. 

Oh fuuck.

You try to speak, to form a coherent thought, but all that escapes your lips is a breathless, “I…” 

Heat floods your cheeks, mingling with the aching throb of your pussy, pulsing with an urgent need. God— the way she’s staring at you, with that raw hunger in her eyes.

“Come here,” Ellie whispered, her chest heaving, struggling to catch her breath. 

You couldn’t resist it.

Ellie shuddered as you slid your hand between her trembling thighs. Shuddering as your fingertip circled her dripping entrance, her soft folds parting easily under your touch. With a needy moan, she guided your finger deeper, gasping as you penetrated her hole. The slick walls of her cunt clenched greedily around your fingers as Ellie bucked her hips, fucking herself on your hand with desperation.

"Fuuuck.." *she groaned, her eyes rolling back in ecstasy. Her cunt was absolutely drenched, leaking down her thighs as she rutted against you shamelessly. Ellie's needy whimpers filled the room, growing louder and more frenzied by the second.

"Fuck, just like that!" Ellie gasped, her hips bucking wildly. She gripped your shoulders tightly, her nails digging into your skin as she rode your fingers. Her juices flowed freely, coating your fingers and dripping down your wrist.

“Ohh fuckk mee…” She groaned as your fingers slipped out of her dripping hole. 

Without wasting a second, she quickly positioned herself above you, her slick folds hovering mere inches from your own. With a swift movement, Ellie slammed her cunt down onto yours, your aching clits rubbing together as your slick juices mixed. 

“ellie! please please please!" you moaned, tightening your grip onto her wrinkled bedsheets. 

"That's it, baby," she groaned, grinding her hips in tight circles.

She gripped your hips tightly, pulling you closer. The sounds of wet skin slapping against wet skin echoed, mingling with your moans and cries of pleasure. Ellie's perky breats bounced with each thrust, her hardened nipples grazing against yours. She gripped your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat, which she attacked with biting kisses and sensual licks.

"Atta girl," Ellie whsipered, "Take what I give you."

[classyrbf]

requesting smth for nanami, choso, or toji….. i’ve been obsessed with the idea of grinding on someone’s thigh while getting my tits sucked on🤤 i feel like this could work as like a teasing thing or a reward thing or a punishment thing…yeah

SHE LIKE IT NASTY! — CHOSO KAMO

SYNOPSIS...what’s better than sitting on your boyfriend’s lap while he sucks on your tits? Nothing, absolutely nothing

INFO...choso x fem!reader, thigh grinding, nipple sucking, praise, cumming in panties, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

thank you for the request, and I hope you enjoy!

Choso knew you had been waiting so patiently for him while he played videos games with his friends. The entire time he could see you squirming on the bed, staring at him until he was done playing. He knew his girl deserved a reward. No matter how needy you got, you stayed in your place, keeping your hands to yourself, and keeping quiet no matter how hard it was.

“Can you pay attention to me now, Cho?” Your sweet voice called out to him. The bed shifted under your weight as you got up, feet pattering against the carpeted floor. “Please?”

He turned off his PC, removing his headphones before staring up at you. “What is it that my girl needs so badly?” His hands rested on the back of your thighs, gently rubbing your smooth skin. He pulled you closer so that his leg was in between yours. “Feeling needy? Don’t be shy about it,” he said with a soft chuckle, pulling you down so you were sitting on his thigh. “Gimme a kiss.” He gently grabbed your chin, placing his lips on yours.

You kissed him back almost immediately, your arms finding solace around his neck while your lips moved in sync, swiping your tongue across his bottom him. You could feel yourself growing wetter by the second, so hot and turned on, ignoring your needs all day. You didn’t even realize you were rocking your hips against his leg, your body trying to find release on its own. It wasn’t until Choso pulled away with a smile, looking down at what you were doing. “You grinding against my thigh, baby? Go ahead, I don’t mind.”

You almost felt embarrassed, looking away from your boyfriend because no matter how much of a bitch in heat you looked, you couldn’t stop even if you tried. It felt to good, feeling the fabric of his jeans and the fabric of your panties press up against your needy clit, rubbing against it. Breathy whimpers escaped your throat, his hands comfortably on your waist as he guided your hips back and forth even faster.

You lifted your head to look at him, biting down on your lower lip as you took in the pleasure coursing through your body, feeling your nipples harden under your shirt and your heart beating against your ribcage. “Keep that pace, just like that. Good girl.” His cold hands slipped under your shirt as he leaned into your neck, placing wet kisses along your warm skin, swiping his tongue over collarbone. Your eyes fluttered shut, finding yourself in pure bliss.

Choso sneakily moved his hands up your waist, finally finding the mounds of your tits, feeling how hard your nipples were and just how turned on you were. “Someone’s gotta take care of these pretty tits, baby. They’re not getting any attention at all,” he cooed, lifting your shirt over your head and tossing it to the floor. He cupped your tits in his large hands, massaging the mounds of flesh in his palms while toying with your sensitive nipples. That’s when he leaned in, taking your nipple in his mouth, his tongue hot and wet swiping moving around in circles.

“Cho,” you moaned, gasping lightly at the feeling. Your hand entangled in his hair, rocking your hips even faster, humping his thigh. “That feels so good—ah!” You were caught off guard by the feeling of him gently nibbling on your nipple but soon the small amount of pain dissolved into pleasure.

He made sure to give equal amount of attention to each of your tits, squeezing the other in his hand while tweaking your perky nipples between his pointer finger and thumb, switching sides when needed. “These pretty tits are all mine,” he mumbled, kissing down your sternum, making sure to leave his mark. You gripped his hair tighter, still moving your hips back and forth along his thigh, that familiar feeling beginning to build up. Your pussy was soaked, rubbing into your own mess, feeling it through your panties. You were sure you left a wet spot right on his jeans too. But you didn’t care.

“Cho…I-I’m close. Please, please, don’t stop,” you said with such keen. You were so desperate to cum, having been waiting all day for this. And with the feeling of his tongue on your nipples and your clit rubbing against him, you were bound to cum any second. “Nnngh! Yes, yes, yes!” Choso flicked his tongue over your raw nipples, sucking and biting on them as he waited for the moment you came right in your panties. He loved watching the way you were enjoying yourself, being so horny and desperate that you were gonna cum from humping his thigh.

He released your nipple with a pop, softly kissing each of them. “Be a good girl and cum right on my thigh. Make me proud, baby.” He laid his tongue flat against your skin, lazily circling the hardened bud.

“Fuckkk, I’m cumming!” You cried, shaking above, your entire body twitching as your orgasm took over. You held onto him tightly, sweetly moaning like music to his ears. He gripped your hips, moving them back and forth to make sure you dragged every last bit of your orgasm out of you no matter what.

After a few more seconds, you were finally done, mind completely spent. Choso wrapped his arms around you tightly, staring up at your hazy gaze. “For what you wanted, pretty girl?” He asked, a smile on his face. You simply nodded at him, trying to catch your breath. “You deserve it. Come here.” He pulled you down by your neck, slowly kissing you, swallowing your little whimpers. Safe to say this might be one of the best rewards you’ve had in while for being such a patient girlfriend.

[itneverendshere]

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - FIVE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mention of pregnancy; abortion; lack of self-care

You’ve had to make a lot of unfortunate decisions in your life.

Choosing a place for your entire family to rest for eternity, picking the caskets, the headstones—it felt like deciding which curtains to buy for the house, except you were burying your entire close family.

After the crash, your parents were gone instantly, just like that—no goodbyes, no warning, just there one moment and gone the next.

But your sister survived. Three days. You thought maybe that was a sign, she’d live despite everything, and you wouldn’t be left alone.

Two weeks later, the doctors told you it was time, but you couldn’t accept it. You held her hand, begging her to stay, telling her every promise you could think of if she opened her eyes.

When the monitors finally went flat, you couldn’t feel anything but desperation. Rafe had to pull you out of there, his arms locked around you while you kicked and screamed, sobbing and begging your sister not to go, not to leave you here.

You fought him with everything you had left, clawing, crying, pleading for just one more second. You were screaming so loud you didn’t even recognize your voice. Everything good had been ripped away from your hands, there was nothing left of the world you’d known.

After that, you remember sitting in some stuffy funeral home office, skimming through catalogs and hardly seeing the pages through your tears. The caskets all looked the same, the types of wood made no difference to you, fabric linings, all of it felt so wrong. 

None of it was a choice you should have to make. 

It was unthinkable to be contemplating about gravestones. How could you sum up your family in limited words or dates, let alone choose a font for it?

You just picked something neutral and blank, something that didn’t require thought or emotion because, by then, you had nothing left to give. 

Now you were trapped again, caught between a rock and a hard place.

Your first thought had been telling Topper, your only real family left, but he was as much Rafe’s as he was yours, and when it came down to it, he was still his best friend. Loyal to him since they were five, and jesus knows how he’d react if he found out about this. He’d most likely freak the fuck out and tell Rafe everything, thinking he was doing the right thing, or worse, letting it slip to Ruthie.

Ruthie—no chance you’d involve her. She’d just see this as another fucked up piece of gossip she could hold over your head, another way to judge or control you. She was “friend” only in the loosest sense of the word.

Kelce was the last person you’d consider turning to for something this serious. He has always been there, but you never got close. He was too much of an instigator, always pushing Rafe to do reckless things he’d regret later, peer pressuring him in ways that made you wonder if he even knew what loyalty meant. He had this weird loyalty to Ruthie, defending her comments as if she was some misunderstood angel when really, she was just… mean.

So that left Sarah. 

It felt weird, thinking of her as the person you’d call on for something so serious, she was the only one who felt… safe. She wouldn’t judge, wouldn’t pry, she’d seen what the worst kind of family conflict could do, and she’d keep this private, just for you.

It’s then you recognized how small your world was. How few people were truly yours.

You were pretty sure no one in this town would fully understand, they’d just offer their "advice," as if they knew you, seen what you’d been through. 

The truth was, they didn’t know shit. They hadn't seen you holding your sister’s hand, begging her to stay alive. They didn’t know what it was like to bury everything that made you feel like a person, like you belonged somewhere, and have to get up the next day like nothing happened.

Nine days, you would be halfway across the country, and you needed someone. You pictured saying it out loud: “I’m pregnant", just those two words, to someone’s face, you had no idea what to say next.

Maybe you’d tell them that it wasn’t about wanting it gone out of spite or shame, but because you couldn’t bring a child into a world where you felt this alone.

Earlier that morning, you’d stared down at your phone, thumb itching to click on Sarah’s name, like just pressing "call" could fix everything. You despised how needy it made you feel—reaching out, when you’d prided yourself on surviving alone. 

You didn’t have much time to ponder about it, because you were stuck at the beach cleanup.

Just like every other summer, another "social responsibility" event that your late father’s foundation insisted you smile through. Even back then, when they were alive, your summers were a carousel of charity galas, fundraisers, endless hours of small talk, and impeccably arranged seating charts.

The board members of the foundation probably thought it would “ground” you—remind you of your privilege, of your “responsibility” to give back. As if a couple of hours and a few bags of garbage would somehow balance the scales. They never seemed to understand how much of it was all for show, this shallow idea that if you looked the part, no one would care to learn more.

But, still, you’d show up. You always did. Smile, make just enough small talk to appease the right people. 

Today, it was just you, a few kids and teens dotted along the beach with oversized trash bags. It wasn’t even noon, but the sun felt like it was scorching you alive. It was laughable, really, standing under this blistering sun with a cheap trash bag and an endless stretch of sand to clean. 

Kie, who was so genuinely invested in this whole “save the planet” thing it was almost enviable was there too with JJ, who was running around her as usual, wearing his ‘I’m just here for the ride’ expression but enjoying himself. The love between them made you miss having someone who cared in ways that weren’t just calculated moves.

She waved at you from the shoreline, her eyes moving to the trash bag you were barely half-filling.

You weren’t friends, but if Sarah liked her, you did too.

You offered a faint smile back, tired, because between all the shit you’d been thinking about, you'd forgotten to eat, to drink anything, and every time you leaned down to grab another crumpled plastic bottle or a bit of seaweed-laden garbage, you felt like your legs were about to give out on you. 

Every now and then, she would throw a quick, appraising glance your way, like she was expecting you to miraculously become invested in the beach’s ecosystem.

You didn’t have it in you to pretend this was enjoyable today. The “effortless” philanthropy your family loved was a lifestyle you’d never bought into. It didn’t matter how many smiling photos of you had ended up on some charity’s social media—you knew you’d rather be anywhere else.

You had to take a break every few minutes, leaning against a pier post, trying to get yourself together as a few of the younger kids gave you wary glances. You could have left—probably should have.

You managed a tight-lipped smile, giving a thumbs-up that said, Just doing great over here, guys!

You were in a long t-shirt, which hung over your bikini and shorts, the fabric slightly oversized, to help hide what was still a small change in your body. Paranoia was your new best friend, always worrying that someone would notice something different, even if you didn’t have a noticeable bump yet.

Bending down to grab another plastic bottle, you felt a stab of nausea hit you hard, rolling up from your stomach, thick and sour, but you ignored it. Not here. Not now.

You straightened up too fast, and your vision blurred slightly, that familiar sense of vertigo hitting you. You took a shallow breath, ignoring the burn at the back of your throat, your hands shaking slightly as you adjusted the bag slung over your shoulder.

One girl looked up at you with these wide eyes kids like to pull, “Are you okay?” 

You smiled, brushing it off as if you weren’t about two seconds away from collapsing. “Of course. Just... need a second.” 

The kids were watching you again, with that look of curiosity. You couldn’t look them in the eye. It wasn’t their fault. They just didn’t understand that sometimes the grown-ups didn’t know what they were doing either. 

Just a few more bags of trash and you’d be able to get back to your car, maybe grab some water from the cooler in the trunk, sit down, and think about it.

This used to be easy, you got a weird kind of enjoyment from these cleanups, running around with your sister, making it a competition to see who could pick up the most trash, laughing until your stomachs hurt over stupid jokes about jellyfish and sunscreen. Back then, this was just one of a thousand little family traditions, one of those things that felt effortless.

Now, sweat dripped down the back of your neck, making your skin prickle uncomfortably.

You’d long given up wiping it away, knowing that it would only come back thicker and hotter the next second. Every instinct told you to run off to the parking lot, and sit in the car with the AC blasting until your body remembered it didn’t hate you.

Leaning down for one last bottle wedged in the sand, your legs wobbled and gave way beneath you. Just like that, your vision was spotty, as if someone had turned down the brightness on the entire beach, and you pitched forward.

Just as you felt yourself going down, a hand caught your arm, pulling you back up.

"Whoa, whoa, you okay?" A teenage boy, maybe sixteen, gripped your arm firmly, keeping you upright.

How much longer could they realistically expect you to go on, plastering on that sweet, dutiful smile? How much “grounding” could one person take?

You blinked, trying to clear the haze in your eyes, "I’m fine. Just a little lightheaded, really, it’s fine,” you insisted, but then a shadow loomed beside you. 

Your vision was so foggy that it took seconds for you to register it.

You looked up slowly, feeling a familiar drop in your stomach as you realized who it was.

The last time you’d been this close to him, the two of you had been screaming insults across the room, Lily having to physically step in. She’d forced him to leave before you two killed each other. It was a miracle you hadn’t punched him then and there.

 “You should sit down.”

It felt like a sidekick to your chest.

The sound of his voice was grinding on your nerves, and just like that you were stuck back in your dream, a real memory, leaning against him, his hand playing with a strand of your hair as he laughed at something you’d said, the two of you carefree under a golden sunset. 

Except this was real.

Rafe was shirtless, with his board tucked under one arm, surf wax staining his fingers, and the sun glinting off his damp skin, like he was God’s gift to the Outer Banks. His buzzed hair was dark and wet, droplets trailing down his temples and catching along his jawline. His cheeks were flushed, a little red from the heat.

You looked away, somewhere over his shoulder, anywhere but at him, refusing to let him see you in this fragile state.

“Go away. I’m fine.”

But he didn’t move.

He’d been summoned from your absolute worst memories, catching you at your lowest when you least wanted his help. Typical. 

“No,” he refused firmly, with that stupid, stubborn look that made you want to throw something at his head. “I’ve seen you almost fall three times now.”

“Maybe if you stopped looking at me like a creep, you wouldn’t have to see me ‘almost fall.”

“I wasn’t—"

You grounded your teeth, “Just go back to surfing.”

Rafe let out a dry laugh, shaking his head as if you were the one acting crazy. “Yeah, 'cause you look perfectly stable right now.”

He'd always been a master of the passive-aggressive half-sneer, the art of making you feel like everyone else was imposing on his day, no matter the situation.

“Don’t act like you care.” you snapped, voice carrying over the sand, earning a few glances from nearby kids.

He ran a hand over his face, looking around as if he didn’t want to be there any more than you did, mouth pressed into a tight line. You wanted to scream that this was his fault too, that every choice he’d made led to you standing here alone, exhausted, and terrified.

“Water would help, y’know”, his tone just shy of patronizing “You can’t go around dehydrating yourself just to make a point.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Your fingers twitched with the urge to send him stumbling to the other side of the beach, you knew that any sudden movement would make you light-headed again, and the last thing you wanted was to give him more proof of your weakness.

The kid—still standing there, eyes wide and darting between you both—looked like he was watching a reality TV show when Kiara appeared at your side.

“Let’s not do this here,” she begged under her breath, handing you a bottle of water she’d brought over, a kindness you didn’t want but couldn’t reject. “Just sit down for a second, please?”

JJ followed, always with that air of easygoing nonchalance, but his eyes were serious as he glanced from you to Rafe.

“She’s right. Just take a second, yeah?” He looked over at Rafe, “Maybe you should leave,” he said pointedly.

“Maybe you should mind your fuckin’ business Maybank.”

“Look, uh,” the kid stammered, knowing he could get caught in the crossfire. “I’ll… I’ll go see if anyone needs help further down the beach…”

You waved him off, your focus still locked on Rafe as the kid all but bolted away, you didn’t want anyone to think they had to “rescue” you.

You tried to take a step back, but the little strength you had in you disappeared as you felt your knees wobble.

"Jesus," you heard him groan, and then his hands were on your arms, board on the sand, holding you as you stumbled. "I told you to sit down."

You shook his hands off, "Don’t tell me what to do.”

It was hard to believe the two of you had once burned hotter than any bonfire, two people who got under each other’s skin, in love, and in hate.

He let out an exasperated sigh while you took a sip from the water Kiara handed you, ignoring how your hands were still shaking around the bottle. 

She spoke again, trying to be the voice of reason, "We’re here to help the community, remember?"

JJ smirked, "Yeah, think the sea turtles are rooting for y’all to work out your issues somewhere else.”

You ignored his joke, keeping your eyes on Rafe, your pride and stubbornness refusing to let him win, “I’m fine.”

“Yeah?”

He looked you over, his gaze fixed to your warm cheeks and the dewy sheen across your temple, “You look real fine, don’t you?” He didn’t even try to cloak his sarcasm.

God, he could be so exasperating.

He couldn’t understand. How could he even think he could look at you now and know anything about who you were? Standing there, with that stupid board and that look, like he couldn’t imagine anything bothering him as much as this seemed to be bothering you.

As if he hadn’t already ruined you in so many ways that felt impossible to get over. 

“Don’t you have something better to do?” 

“Oh, believe me, I do,” he drawled, his eyes trailing from the waves back to you. 

You were tired of this game, of fighting him every time he showed up only to leave you feeling even emptier than before.

Your fists clenched, and you opened your mouth to hurl something back, but the dizziness hit you again. Before you could compose yourself, Rafe’s arm wrapped around your waist, strong and frustratingly secure, holding you upright with an ease that made your skin crawl.

He had seen you at your weakest, had been there at the hospital after the accident, keeping you together when you were certain you’d break. 

Yet, here you were, in a sick way, back in his arms, all broken apart.

“That’s it. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“I hate to say it, but he’s right,” JJ chimed in, hand shielding his eyes from the sun.

The world alone had all kinds of alarms going off in your brain. You fought back instinctively, your hands pushing at his chest, freeing your arm. 

“I told you, I’m fine.”

He let go, but he didn’t back away.

Instead, he narrowed his eyes, “You think I don’t know what fine looks like? I was there.”

He was there. And you didn’t want to be reminded of it, not in front of other people. 

He meant the exhaustion and hunger pains you’d welcomed after your family was gone, embraced even, because it meant you wouldn’t have to feel anything else.

You’d wanted to disappear, and he’d been there—dragging you back, forcing you to drink water and swallow bites of food, even when you pushed him away. He’d seen you at your absolute lowest, where you didn’t care if you made it through the day. 

The thought of the hospital, tests, questions, you fought it, but your vision was already blurring.

You couldn’t let him find out about the baby. 

Your breathing felt tighter, each shallow breath only making the spinning worse, you could sense your body giving in to the exhaustion

“Shit,” you heard him curse, sounding distant now like he was farther away. 

You felt yourself sway as if the ground was opening beneath you, there was a ringing in your ears that made his voice sound muffled but you still felt his arms catching you again, holding you upright before you fell.

Waking up in a moving vehicle was like emerging from a nightmare, except somehow, this was worse, because you were no longer at the beach. 

You blinked hard, desperate to wipe the fogginess in your eyes and when it did go away, you realized who was behind the wheel. 

Rafe. 

Your heart pounded—your desperation to keep the baby a secret, how you almost passed out at the beach, and the fact that now he was most likely driving you to the hospital.

“What the hell are you doing?” you practically screamed, your voice hoarse from the lack of water.

He didn’t spare you a glance, “You passed out, genius. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

Your whole body went rigid. “Are you insane?”

“Me?” He scoffed, as he kept his focus on the road. “You practically ate sand back there. You’re not fine.”

“Turn the car around. I’ll call my driver and be fine.” You huffed like he was too dumb to understand. “I don’t need your help.”

He let out a dry laugh, still not looking at you. 

“Yeah. You’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting you out of this car right now.”

“Rafe, I’m not kidding,” you warned, louder this time. “Stop. The. Car.”

He gave you a sideways glance, his grip on the wheel tightening.

“Not happening.”

Your heart hammered as you realized he wasn’t going to back down, you were driven by sheer desperation.

“Fine, then I’ll do it myself." you muttered, reaching for the door handle. 

Anything to get out of this suffocating car before he dragged you all the way to the ER and they found out you were pregnant—with his baby, no less.

His eyes widened, finally snapping from the road to your hand on the handle.

“Are you crazy? Get your hand off that, I’m fuckin' serious.”

You yanked at it anyway, twisting the handle and pulling with spiteful defiance, and Rafe’s expression went from annoyed to full-on rage. He swerved the car to the side of the road, tires skidding as he slammed the brakes and practically threw the car into park.

Before he could even stop fully, you flung the door open and stumbled out, sandals sinking into the gravel as you stalked away.

You didn’t get more than a few feet, he was already bolting after you.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, digging your nails into your palms. 

How the hell had it come to this? You were stuck here, pregnant with his child, and he played the reluctant hero like you needed him swooping in to save you.

Rafe reached you in two strides, his fingers were digging into his forehead, pointing at it with exasperation imprinted into every corner of his face. 

“Are you out of your fuckin' mind?” He sounded like he was talking to some unruly child.

And the worst part? You could see that frustration in his eyes, the same look he used to give you when he’d reached his limit with you.

You wondered if he ever got to that point with Sofia.

What would he do if she was the one almost fainting? Would he still look like she was some colossal burden, or would he soften, maybe even smile as he fussed over her, acting like he wanted to help?

You hated yourself for caring at all.

Sofia—the one who looked like she'd been ripped off from some perfect postcard, all wide-eyed sweetness and gentle smiles. She probably never challenged him, snapped back, or made him want to pull his hair out.

There was no way he’d look at her like she was a mess, someone he just had to “deal with.” He likely saw her as easy, perfect, all soft and sweet words, everything you weren’t.

This wasn’t who you wanted to be, and yet here you were, stumbling around half-dead and pregnant with his child.

“I’m sorry, am I bothering you?” You spat the words, watching his jaw clench tighter. 

He exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes. 

“Unbelievable. Only you could take me trying to help and turn it into this.”

You were done. You were done with the memories, with the torment of seeing him be something better for someone else. 

“Help?” You laughed bitterly, the anger engulfing you so hard it felt as if it choking you. “You think this is help? That I need you, of all people?”

He took a step back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I'm trying to help."

You hated how calm he was, how rational he sounded.

It was maddening when all you wanted was for him to get angry, to let that icy surface crack, to give you even a glimpse of something real, something that wasn’t just irritation or sarcasm.

You wanted proof that he still was affected by you, that this was the same guy who used to be everything, who’d promised you everything.

But you swallowed it down, straightening up, because there was no way in hell, you’d let him see even a hint of weakness.

“Trust me,” you shot back, “I’ll be just fine without you.”

He raised an eyebrow, a bitter smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “Get in the car.”

“No,” you said, firm and unyielding, every inch of you screaming that you wouldn’t let him decide anything for you ever again.

“Fine. Have it your way.”

In one swift move, he reached out, his hands gripping your arms with enough pressure to pull you forward, lifting you clean off your feet. Your breath caught in a furious gasp as he practically dragged you back to the car, his fingers warm against your skin, like you were just a mild convenience. 

“Put me down!” 

You struggled against his hold, jabbing at his chest with what little strength you could muster, but he didn’t even flinch, didn’t so much as hesitate. 

“Rafe, I swear—”

He opened the passenger door with one hand, keeping a firm grip on you with the other, before finally setting you down—not gently—onto the seat. Without meaning to, tears began falling as you struggled against his hands. You could feel them wetting your cheeks, your voice was breaking, jumping to distress as you tried to twist out of his hold, feeling so small under his unrelenting strength.

He almost knelt in front of you, reaching for the seat belt with one hand, while his other remained firmly on your shoulder, holding you still. You felt trapped, impresioned as you tried to turn in every direction, hands weakly pushing him back, but he caught them effortlessly.

“Stop!” you meekly choked out, failing to shove him, the words coming out shameful.

You could feel your heart breaking all over again.

You hated that he was seeing you like this, how he dared to act like you needed him—it made your skin crawl. You hated that he could do this, like he had any right like you’d ever wanted him involved in this part of your life, let alone now.

This was a version of you only Rafe could bring out.

You glared up at him, practically shaking with rage as Rafe ignored your protests like you were nothing more than a child throwing a fit. 

“Get your hands off me.”

His jaw tightened, ignoring the flailing punches and slaps grazing him, and you couldn’t stop the sob that escaped, loud and ugly.

“I’m not letting you kill yourself out of spite.”

Your chest hurt like you’d been run over a hundred times—it felt suffocating. “I hate you.”

For the first time, you thought he might actually leave you here. 

His fingers stopped as if your words had made an impact, his lips pressed into a thin line. Your vision blurred as he leaned in, his touch hovering as if to wipe away the tear running down your cheek, but he didn’t, instead, he closed his hand into a fist and drew back, his face just inches from yours. 

A faint, humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he clicked the seatbelt into place. He made a low humming noise, that thing he did when he was getting ready to make someone feel two inches tall. 

 "Yeah? Get in line."

Without another word, he pulled back, slamming the door shut, and walking around to the driver’s side.

You wiped at your cheeks, furious that he’d seen you like this, that he had the power to break you down. It was humiliating, sitting here in his car, every part of your body screaming to escape. 

He got in, started the engine, neither of you spoke.

Rafe drove fast, every rev of the engine matching the churning in your stomach perfectly. You sat there, trembling, the dread building with every mile that passed. You gripped the seatbelt so hard it felt like your entire body might go numb, and stared straight ahead, breathing shallow, trying to ignore the sting in your eyes.

You bit back another wave of nausea. Weakness.

You’d already shown him too much. 

You didn’t need a lecture from some doctor on how you “should’ve taken better care of yourself", let alone with Rafe there, watching, scrutinizing, acting like this was his business when he’d made it clear long ago that it wasn’t. He was in your space in the worst way, reopening all the wounds.

You were seething. He had no right to do this.

The thought made you want to drop dead—doctor would walk in, casually drop the news about the baby, and you'd be left watching his reaction in real time.

You looked at the entrance to the ER. The vision of anyone running tests, of some well-meaning nurse, coming in and spilling everything about the baby in front of him—no way. You wouldn’t let that happen.

He wasted no time getting out, moving around to your side, while you sat rigidly, staring straight ahead. His hand was already on the door, yanking it open, looking down at you like he was ready to drag you inside if he had to.

You weren’t moving. You knew the second you stepped inside, it would be over. 

“C’mon,” Rafe pressed, his hand outstretched, hovering there like he thought he could compel you to listen. “Stop being so stubborn.”

You crossed your arms over your stomach, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I’m not going in.”

Rafe let out a sigh, nearing his limit, and knelt down to your level.

“Look, you passed out. I’m not leaving until you get checked out.”

“You’re gonna be here for a while then.”

“Would you stop?” His voice softened for the first time, as if he was trying to reach some part of you that he thought still cared. “You look like you haven’t slept in days, like you haven’t eaten anything that wasn’t out of a vending machine. I know you don’t want my help, but can you just stop for a second and—”

“And what?” you interrupted.

“And think! If you don’t get in there, I’ll drag you in myself.”

Your heart raced, “You wouldn’t dare.”

Rafe stepped closer; his jaw set in determination. “Try me.”

“You’re not coming in."

He blinked like the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “What?”

Maybe he was seeing the protection you’d built up around yourself since he left, how there was no longer any crack left open for him to slip through.

“I don’t need you. I don’t want you in there.”

“Fine.” His tone was clipped, restrained. “But I’ll be right here.”

You slammed the door shut behind you, not letting him your legs still shaking. You’d rather collapse face-first into the concrete than give him the satisfaction of listening to him. 

“Yeah, you do that,” you replied, turning and walking toward the entrance, refusing to look back.

Stepping inside, you felt a slight tremor run through you—part relief, part panic. The lights were too bright, almost white. Your heart wobbled, replaying how he’d been such a fucking asshole to you.

You’d forgotten how mean he could be, how easily he could go from angry to something so frigid it made you want to cry yourself to sleep.

“Hi there,” The receptionist greeted, her eyes moving over you with a professional once-over, “What brings you in today?”

You forced a small smile, knowing she wouldn’t buy it.

“Just…got a little dehydrated, that’s all.”

“Okay…let’s just get some basic information.” She clicked into her computer, her fingers poised over the keyboard. “Name?”

You cleared your throat, rattling off your full name, she nodded, typing it in.

“Have you experienced any other symptoms besides dizziness?”

“Nothing serious,” you replied, dismissively. “It’s just the heat, like I said. I just need some water and I’ll be good as new.”

This had to be a fucking nightmare you got sucked in, you could sense your blood pressure spike.

She tapped her screen and glanced back at you.

“Alright, Miss Thornton, it looks like we’ll just need a few quick details here to get you all checked in. Can I start with your insurance provider?”

A chuckle almost slipped out of you. Insurance���God, you were fine with insurance. What you weren’t okay with was everything else. You answered, “Blue Cross.”

She asked for your birthdate, which you gave on autopilot, hoping she’d skip any weird or invasive questions. “Any allergies?”

You shook your head. Please, just let this be over. 

“It’s really not a big deal,” You blurted out, giving her a thin smile and forcing calm into your voice. “I just need the IV. You know, standard stuff.”

“Of course, dear. We’ll get things started, it will include routine tests, like bloodwork, just to be safe.”

Bloodwork. Perfect. You were doing everything you could to keep from falling into that spiraling panic mode. 

Please, just get me in, get me out, and don’t find anything.

“Just head down to Room 12.”

All you could think was that you wanted this to be over—before the whole town, or worse, he, found out. It made you want to scream. He was the last person who should be outside.

This was his fault. You’d never be here if he hadn’t shown up.

The next hour passed in seconds—questions, forms, an IV drip.

They’d done blood work, too, but you’d sighed in relief when they’d told you the results wouldn’t be ready immediately. As far as they knew, you’d just overdone it, and now, as you lay on a cot in a room that reeked of sick people, all they’d prescribed was rest, hydration, and food.

When the nurse asked if anyone could pick you up, the thought of calling someone, asking them to see you like this, made you delirious. You didn’t need anyone; you were perfectly fine on your own.

But you also didn’t want Rafe and his delusional ass to barge through the doors.

The nurse moved around you awkwardly, eyes still expectant, as if you were just a button away from a reliable “someone” to come running.

You looked at her, controlling the compulsion to yell. Little people ever bothered to check on you, to show up for more than just the drama or gossip.

Out of them, only one face bounced around in your head.

“Yeah, I got someone.”

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616

@yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

[ariestrxsh]

chris puts a baby in you because he doesn’t wanna lose you (is this baby trapping? maybe? kinda? a tiny) just can’t stop thinking about it dgkkgf

I hope you like what I came up with. 💖

Chris puts a baby in you to make you all his...

Chris had you stretched around his cock, his length buried deep inside of your slick cunt, as he steadily rocked his hips back and forth, hitting the perfect spot every time. "Come on, baby. Let me cum inside," Chris pouted at you.

Your boyfriend had been begging you for months to let him get you pregnant. He wanted you all for himself, to claim you, to fill you up. He couldn't stand the thought of ever losing you. He wanted to forever mark you as his.

"Chris.." you huffed, getting ready to protest his wishes, but he cut you off with a kiss. His lips crashed into yours, and he purred into your mouth, the vibration tickling your lip as he fucked you. You couldn't deny the way it turned you on to have Chris beg you to pump you full of his cum, and you secretly loved the idea of being pregnant with his baby.

He cradled your face, gazing into your eyes while he mounted you, thrusting into you harder and deeper. "Please, baby. Let me fill up your pretty pussy," he softly whimpered, a warm feeling buzzing in his core as he neared his climax.

You were starting to really like the idea, and it was hard for you to say no to Chris when he looked at you so sweetly like that with his puppy dog eyes and his lip caught between his teeth in desperation. You nodded at his request, unable to hide the effect his word choice had on you.

"I'm gonna put a baby in you right here," Chris smirked down at you as he pressed down on the bulge he made in your tummy. A stream of moans passed through your lips as you tightened your grip on the sheets beneath you. Your arched your back off the bed as you started throbbing around his length.

He continued to pound into you, overwhelmed by the sensation of you finishing onto him. "Good girl," he whispered before his orgasm got the better of him. He held your hips in place, bucking his hips forward until his cock was as deep as it could go into your drooling cunt.

He threw his head back, releasing a guttural moan as he pumped his pretty, pearly white cum into your pussy. He held himself there for a moment until he was completely drained, emptying every lost drop into you as he shuddered from the earth-shattering pleasure.

A smile spread across his pink lips and his eyes twinkled as he slowly pulled his length out of your hole and spread you open to get a better look at the way it filled you. It was like he was claiming his territory every time he finished inside you, and the added risk of getting you pregnant made it that much hotter to him.

"Wow. Look at that," he whispered, gawking at the scene that played out before him, the way it slowly dribbled out as your cunt continued to pulse. "Your sweet little pussy is all mine."