#it's a dress shirt with no stretch so I can't just MAKE it fit I have to know it's going to fucking fit

[cahootings]

I should be neither surprised nor upset that my workplace does not stock plus size dress uniform pieces on site nor do they seem to understand that a womens xl does not actually really qualify as a plus size.

[ill0usainte]

Pussy can be so facetious.

pairings: colonel!caleb x nurse!reader

cw: unprotected sex, rough sex, stomach bulge, cosplay kink, dom!caleb, sub!reader, overstimulation, cockdrunk!reader, crying, power imbalance

"ngh- hah-- t-too much--!" You cried out, hands gripping on the colonel's wrist that is holding your thighs tightly while slamming his gritty cock inside your plush tight pussy.

Oh, how foolish you were, knocking out a nurse just so you could take her uniform and pretend to be a nurse on the fleet to escape from Caleb.

He's been pounding deep inside of you relentlessly for an hour or so. The way your pussy sucks his hardened cock so good inside makes Caleb be in full bliss.

You'd be begging and pleading for him to take a break but your pussy says otherwise:((

The colonel is disappointed of knowing that you tried to escape again but at the same time he can't help but chuckle in amusement seeing you fail again and again.

He's determined to keep you forever by his side.

"hah- it's sad...to know you're planning to escape me again...." He coos, brushing the strands of your hair away from your face as he caress your cheek, you can only moan and whimper in return as he continues drilling his aching cock inside your throbbing pussy.

"but... you.. ngh... just k-kept on, putting fuel to the fire, sweetie... "

Adoring the sight of you being dicked down by the colonel-- seeing you like that aroused Caleb-- you look so vulnerable and submissive towards him. He can't help but abuse the power he has against you, dominating you everytime he gets the chance because he knows you'll always submit your self to him:(

He always uses the "pull it out whole and.... slam!" method-- which makes your eyes roll to the back-- legs trembling as you stick out your tongue. Feeling a euphoric climax rising to your aching pussy.

This man is fucking you like a dog in heat-- acting like he haven't been balls deep fucking you countless times in every place of the fleet headquarters.

And what aroused him the most, is how you look so hot with that nurse's uniform. How the buttons that were once in place were now all gone because he was too impatient he ripped the shirt open with his hands-- leaving you just with your bare chest, filled with his saliva in display. The way the pencil skirt fits you perfectly-- riding up to your plush thighs. He can't help but want to bite and leave marks on the flesh:((

Caleb will always be a thighs man.

"-shit- I s-should dress..you-- hah-- up in... different uniforms n-next time..." He pants heavily, pressing his thumb against your stomach as he can feel his cock forming a bulge against your stomach while pounding inside of your tight entrance.

His angry red tip kissing and greeting your womb as he pumps it in and out-- stretching you out so good. With how big his cock is, it never leaves any space inside your warm tight pussy. You're always full of his gritty cock.

"heh- m-might need another hah--.. pussy appointment soon, Nurse.."

No worries, he's just a man who's into women in uniform.

Fics of Caleb:

Play your gun right!

Mark your territory.

Fuck me like you mad at me, baby!

Got your head in a headlock!

Lasting Mark.

(Wo)men in uniform.

Pink, Pink, Pink!

[gurugirl]

DILF | older!harry

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Y/n meets an older man at a bar and she's not taking no for an answer. Harry likes her persistence.

A/N: This was requested + this! Also, please think before you judge Y/n. She is very bold and confident in this. Maybe even a little pushy but Harry likes it (even if at first he doesn't give that impression). Also he's single so this isn't cheatrry!

Word Count: 6,580

Warning: age gap, smut, alcohol consumption (light)

. .

"That one. Total dilf. He looks grumpy. Bet you can't crack him."

Y/n laughed at her friend and looked down at her red-painted nails before narrowing her gaze on the attractive older man who was seated at the corner of the bar alone. He was nursing a whisky and he did look rather sullen. Unapproachable even.

"Why him?"

"Because he's hot. And I'm curious to see if you can get him to smile at least," Warren raised her brows, "I dare you."

Y/n tilted her head and assessed him. He was nice and big, taking up a decent amount of space at the bar, broad shoulders and back hunched as he leaned his muscular forearms on the wood of the bar top. Meaty hands placed on either side of his lowball glass. Thick brown waves on top of his head with a bit of silver coming in at the temples. But the handsome features on his face really set him apart. His granite jawline gave way to stubble that stretched over his skin and shaded in the spaces around his pink lips.

If she could "crack" him she wasn't sure she'd want just a smile. He looked yummy enough to eat.

Drinking down the last of her martini she pointed at Warren and then Tara, "Fine. Give me twenty minutes and I'll have him eating from the palm of my hand."

Tara laughed, "If you say so…"

She placed her heeled feet down on the floor and brushed her hands over her dress, "Oh, I do say so. Just watch and learn, ladies."

Y/n wasn't quite that confident, but she wasn't about to say no to dare. And she could hold her own when it came to flirting. She liked getting a little attention and if she could garner this one's interest it might be fun.

She sauntered up to the bar behind the man and noticed the way his t-shirt stretched over his lats and tapered loosely down at his waist. The guy was fit. And lucky her, there was an open stool next to him.

Sliding onto the seat she waved at the bartender to order another drink. She'd need all the courage she could get, in whatever form she could get it.

Tapping her long nails on the lacquered wood she felt nerves thrumming through veins before turning toward the man finally. He hadn't seemed to take note of her yet, which honestly was unusual in most cases. Maybe she thought too highly of herself but men tended to notice her right away. She appreciated the challenge, though.

Reaching her hand into his space to greet him, she pushed down her nerves to sound steady as she spoke, "I'm Y/n."

She watched his brow furrow as he turned to look at her hand and then up at her eyes, his expression, which she expected would soften once he looked at her, was unamused. A single light overhead lit the tops of their heads as a shadow cast over the side of his face and he didn't make a move to shake her hand, "And I'm old enough to be your dad."

A surprised scoff fell from her lips as she moved her hand away from him. She wiggled in her seat and crossed her leg over her thigh toward him, gulping down the initial rejection with as much grace as she could muster, "I think you're jumping to conclusions about my intentions. But so what if you're older than me? I don't mind. We're both adults, right?"

An unimpressed grunt rumbled from his throat before he took another sip of his whisky and he looked away from her toward the TV that hung not far away from where they sat.

The bartender placed her olive martini down on the bar in front of her, "It'll be on Y/n Y/l/n. I already have an open tab."

A sip of the salty drink felt warm down her throat. So he was going to be a bit tough to crack. She turned to look at her friends who were grinning in her direction.

Straightening her back to feel more confident she tried again, "So you're not gonna tell me your name even?"

Without looking at her, he licked his lips and ticked his jaw, "Y/n, I think it's past your bedtime."

She smiled at that. He'd said her name, which meant he'd been listening, "My bedtime is whenever I say it is, not when some grouchy stranger says."

He puffed out an amused laugh through his nose, "I am a stranger. Which means you should be cautious, little girl. Your dad didn't teach you about things like that?" He turned to look down at her again, and that time she saw the soft green color of his eyes as the light hit his face just right.

But now she was really determined. She smiled brightly at him and let her eyes coast over his tattooed arm and then back up to his face, "Are you telling me you're dangerous?"

He still didn't smile as he shook his head like he was surprised by her gall, "Do your parents know what you're up to tonight?"

"I'm 24. Graduated from college, live on my own, pay my bills, have a full-time job. You seem to be awfully worried about my parents. I can take care of myself just fine."

Just then another person sat down next to the man Y/n was trying to whittle away at. He poked his elbow at him, "Who's this?"

"Don't know. Someone who's about to go back to her table with her little girlfriends."

Biting her lip she traced the rim of her martini glass with her fingertip, keeping her eyes set on the handsome tattooed one, "Not even a smile. Just one? Please?"

"Like I already said, I'm way too old for you."

The other man leaned over and reached to tap Y/n's shoulder, "Hey. Forget about Harry, here. You can bring me home with you if you're looking for a daddy tonight."

She frowned and looked him up and down to asses. He was late 40s perhaps, wearing a local band t-shirt, ripped jeans, and a backward cap to make himself appear a little more youthful. "No thanks. You'd know if I was interested in you."

Harry bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling at her retort. She was definitely too young but he liked her spunk.

"Now, Harry…" she said his name slowly as she leaned a little closer, "I've got your name thanks to your friend. Can I have a smile?"

"Why?" He stared down at her, the caress of his gaze felt infinite and she found her skin convecting in its wake. He might be hard to crack but this one would be worth it, she determined.

She sighed and slid her finger dangerously close to his wrist as he looked down at her nail and watched her trail it near his arm, "I just hoped to see you smile is all. Too handsome to have such a sour scowl on your face."

"And you're hardly old enough to be so confident to walk up to a strange man at a bar."

She laughed and tilted her head, "You planning on doing something bad to me, Harry?"

And that. That pulled a reaction out of him that spread over his features slowly as he shook his head in disbelief, "Darlin', you wouldn't be able to handle me."

Her eyes widened slightly. Now she was definitely not giving up. Y/n wasn't one to fail and Harry might be making her work hard for it but she couldn't imagine it wouldn't be worth it in the end.

"Is that a challenge or something?" She softly scraped her nail over his tattooed wrist and Harry watched her red nail work over his skin.

His resolve was fading fast. She could tell he wasn't going to keep denying her. And why should he? If he was single, which he appeared to be, what was the harm in having a little fun with someone younger? Y/n didn't mind. And he certainly shouldn't either.

"If it were a challenge you'd know it. Lots of other guys here, Y/n. Go enjoy your night with someone closer to your own age."

She sighed in annoyance. But he hadn't moved his arm away from her and she was going to take that as a sign.

Dragging the toe of her shoe into his shin she grinned, "I don't want to enjoy my night with someone my own age. Not tonight anyway. I think you've convinced me that I need to test out this theory of yours. That you think I can't handle you. Cause I bet I can."

With his eyes piercing into hers, he took another sip of his drink. She thought she might have just convinced him to give her a smile at the very least because it looked like he was weighing his options. And if she could get him to smile she might have luck with the rest.

He tilted his chin upward for a moment, eyes aimed at the ceiling like he was calling on a higher power for strength, "Go back to your friends, Y/n. Any other man here would love to have your company."

"But you wouldn't love to have my company?"

"I mean… I'm still here," the other man raised his hand and leaned into Harry, "Honey we could have so much fun. Any man who'd turn you down is either battin' for the other team or more likely," he chuckled and pushed his shoulder into Harry's teasingly, "He can't get it up anymore."

Y/n's mouth dropped open at that and Harry turned to look at the man. She wished she could see the look on his face, "Sit the fuck back down, John. She already told you she's not interested in you."

"Yeah, and you're not interested in her so what's it matter to you? Look at her, Harry. Practically begging you. Young and bubbly… Tight—"

Harry's hand covered John's throat as he pushed him away, nearly making his stool topple over, "Get the fuck outta here. You had too much whisky tonight."

"Aww… come on Harry… I was just jokin'!"

She watched as he stood from his stool and looked down at John, "And you thought that was funny? You like making jokes about women like that?"

The man put his hands up in surrender, "I'm out. Here…" he threw a wad of cash on the bar top before he moved past Harry and then looked at Y/n, "My apologies if I offended you."

They watched as John left the bar quickly and then Harry sat back down before he waved at the bartender and signaled for the check, "Just the one whisky neat."

"You're leaving already? Night's still young, Harry."

He sucked at his teeth as he scraped his gaze over her face and down to her cleavage. She smiled when she watched the path his eyes had taken.

The bartender handed him the bill and Harry leaned over to pull his wallet from his back pocket.

She scooted closer to him, "You headed home?"

He nodded, but not necessarily in answer to her question, it was more of an appraisal kind of nod. He was still silent as he pulled cash out of his wallet.

"Thanks for that, by the way. I'm sure John's a nice guy and all but he's not really my type. And I'm sure he was wrong about you."

That got his attention. Harry flicked his gaze back to hers, "Wrong about me?"

She smiled, "The part where he said you couldn't get it up. You're not that old. I'm sure you still can. Right?"

He clenched his jaw and breathed out of his nostrils like he couldn't believe she'd asked him such a thing. He handed the bartender his cash with a nod before he stood up from his stool.

"Huh. Since you're so quiet about it maybe he was right," she goaded, pressing her lips together to flatten her smile as she looked up at him through her lashes.

Harry placed a palm down on the bar top next to her hand and leaned over her, "You're out of your depth here, Y/n."

"Now, you don't really know that do you? Just because I'm younger than you doesn't mean I don't know what I'm doing."

"You're awfully pushy. Not used to hearing no, are you?"

Y/n watched as the edge of his mouth lifted in amusement and she widened her eyes and pointed, "You're almost smiling."

He shook his head and looked around the bar before pinning his gaze back to hers, "I hope you enjoy the rest of your night. But your luck has run out with me, princess."

Harry stood to his full height and Y/n decided to try one last time, "So it's true then. What he said."

He stopped and turned to look back at her, a slow burning heat behind his gaze, "Couldn't be further from the truth."

She smiled and slid off her stool to stand in front of him. His height was impressive, "Prove it."

The line of his jaw hardened, turning his cheekbones into slashes of tension. His eyes simmered as he weighed his options. Finally, a hint of a smile stretched over his mouth. A small one, but still.

"I don't need to prove anything to silly little girls."

"Good thing I'm not a silly little girl. I'm a grown woman, Harry."

Y/n knew she was pushing it. She'd never needed to throw herself at any man before. But because of that, she wasn't used to rejection either. Maybe it was a good lesson for her ego. She knew her big fault was how entitled she could act sometimes. But that was partly thanks to how she was raised. It's better to act like a man to get what you want in life, her dad told her. And so far, that had been true. Some women balked at her confidence and her bold attitude. She wasn't demure or sweet enough. And men would often refer to her as a bitch or say that she was trying too hard.

She'd work on her ego another time. But right now? She was focused on winning this battle.

"What do you want with someone like me anyway? Hm? I'm old, Y/n. What's in it for you?"

Blinking her eyes she shook her head, "You're not old, first of all. Secondly, you're really attractive. It doesn't need to go much deeper than that, does it? I just think you're handsome. And I do kind of like a challenge."

"I can see that you like a challenge. It's the only reason I haven't walked out that door yet. Kind of relentless."

She smiled, "So it's working?"

Another half-smile worked its way up his mouth as he laughed in disbelief, "Are you surprised that it is?"

His pupils coasted over her figure and then back up to her face. The warmth of his gaze singed her skin like an open flame.

"I guess I just didn't know how difficult it'd be with you."

He licked his lips, "Difficult. You have no idea. But looks like you're about to find out. Go tell your friends what's going on. Meet me out front."

Y/n watched him turn and walk away. She was shocked. For a minute she thought he wasn't going to go for it at all.

Shaking off the sudden surprise of having gotten to him she settled up with the bartender and then stopped at the table with her friends. They were just about to give her condolences for having oversold her ability but she interrupted. "He's waiting for me outside. Location is on. Don't wait up!"

Harry was leaning against a black car in the parking lot when she stepped out of the doors. The moment he saw her he pushed himself off the car and opened the passenger door for her.

It was going to be tricky to maintain the kind of confidence she'd been feigning with him up until then but there was no part of her that didn't want to find out what he could show her.

She watched as Harry sat down in the driver's seat and started up his car. He took up too much space in the seat. His big hand wrapped around the leather steering wheel while his other encased the shift stick. Even the way he drove was turning her on.

She was pleased that she'd wormed her way under his skin and that he'd given in. She'd try her best to make it worth his while. Reaching across the console she put her hand on his thigh and he glanced down quickly before setting his gaze back on the road.

Now, Harry had slept with younger women a couple of times. He generally preferred someone closer to his age because he liked the confidence and experience that came with age. Women in their 20s were often in a different stage of life and that was fine –normal even, but it just usually wasn't a match for him. Not sexually and not mentally.

But Y/n was unusually confident for being so young. Persistent. He liked it, he couldn't lie. Whether or not she really had much else going for her beyond confidence, he guessed he'd find out. Well, she was very cute too. She did have that in her favor.

And Y/n at least seemed like she knew what she wanted. It was flattering as well. Being approached by such a pretty young thing. He figured the moment he told her to go back to her friends she'd give up but she was just fiery enough that she wasn't deterred.

When she ran her nail over his wrist he knew he was screwed. She was just close enough that he could smell her perfume and then she nudged her shoe into his shin and all he could think about was that she really wanted to be shown a good time and if anyone could it was him.

Harry knew his way around a woman's body. They were all different and he liked finding all the buttons and things that made them purr. In his experience, though, the younger the woman, the less she knew her own body. He didn't know if Y/n was just talking a big game but he was about to find out.

He stayed quiet as she ran her hand down his thigh and he shifted as the car accelerated past the green light. He'd see if she'd do anything with her hand but maybe she'd just pet at him like a novelty toy. He didn't expect—

"This is okay?" She asked him, her tone sultry as she palmed at his crotch.

He licked his lips, "Have at it."

His cock fattened up nicely with not much effort on her part. Proof that he definitely could get it up. Plucking at his button she looked from his face to her fingers as she leaned further over the console to reach her hand into his open pants to help him with the awkward angle of his dick. He seemed to appreciate that as he shifted under her palm.

Rubbing over his heather grey briefs she peeled down the elastic band the slightest to get a peek. The dark shade of pink on his tip matched the muted raspberry of his lips. She slid the pad of her middle finger over the slit and he softly inhaled through his teeth.

She wouldn't be able to give him roadhead like she wanted. It was impossible with the stick shift in the way. But she could wrap her fingers around his shaft and feel him under her palm until they got wherever they were going.

"Mmm… It's so big, Harry. Knew you would be. Might be the biggest I've seen in person. Can't tell yet, though. Have to wait to see when we've got these off."

Harry pushed a laughed breath through his nose. She was a bold thing. Her assertiveness was a turn-on. He didn't like meek and shy. Not when it came to sex.

When she spit into her palm and smeared it down his length, the best she could, he parted his lips and stepped on the gas. She was already exceeding any expectations he had for her. Maybe she'd prove him wrong.

Her nail scraped the underside of him and she moaned, "Really want it in my mouth."

He gulped harshly and ticked his jaw, "Just be patient. I'll let you put it in your mouth soon enough."

"And where are we going? Your place?"

He nodded, "Just a few minutes away."

She squeezed around him and pulled upward slowly. She knew already, he was well above average and she was going to have to work to give him a proper blowy.

His house was a one story, the driveway at the front with a garage attached. He lifted his hand and pushed on a device that was clinging to his sun visor and the garage door began to open. There was a covered motorcycle along the back wall and then the garage door closed after he shut off the engine.

She moved her hand away and unbuckled herself as he got out. When she reached down to pick up her little purse she realized her panties were already wet. She grinned as she stepped out, adjusting her dress before closing the door, and then followed behind him as he led her into a dark hallway.

When he turned on the lights she took it all in. Hardwood floors led into a dining area and then a kitchen. Hung on the walls were photos of himself with two children and then more framed photos with just the kids.

"Do you have kids?"

"I do. Boy and a girl. 7 and 10."

"You're not married are you?"

He laughed, "If I were you'd have known. Wouldn't have been out in the first place if I had a wife waiting for me at home."

She nodded as he turned on the kitchen light and pulled out two glasses before filling them with water.

"Divorced?"

Handing her a glass he squinted, "Yes."

She took a sip. He was a man of few words she'd gathered. She looked around the kitchen. Wood cabinets, an outdated laminate countertop, stainless steel appliances. The space could use some updating but it was large and he had a big pantry.

Sitting the glass down on the counter she watched him closely. His pants were still unbuttoned. She eyed the space at his crotch as he placed his own glass down next to hers.

"It's not gonna suck itself."

She laughed and looked up at him. He had a genuine smile on his face that time. The first real smile she'd seen from him all night. A healthy row of clean teeth, a dimple…

"Hmm… I think you're right. Let's see what we've got…"

She moved in front of him and placed her hands on his pants to push them away but before she could inch them down he wrapped his meaty hand around the back of her neck and drew her into his chest. His mouth was warm and soft. His tongue tasted like the whisky he'd been drinking.

Letting go of his pants she held onto his biceps as he used his free hand to push her hips against his. Still nice and hard. He ran his tongue over her lips and she moaned into his mouth. He worked his warm lips down to her jaw and then he licked upward on her neck, the wet patch was cool on her skin from the air in the kitchen. He did it again and her knees almost gave out. She hadn't been licked like that before.

He kissed over her clavicle and then drew his tongue over her flesh. Her heart was thrumming quickly and she squeezed his strong arms when he rutted against her.

"You good at sucking cock, Y/n?" He pushed his nose against her jawline and the hot breath from his words scattered over the skin on her neck.

"I want to be," she spoke breathlessly, eyes fluttering closed as he mawed at her throat.

He parted from her neck and looked down at her, half-lidded gaze and spit-slicked lips, "Go on."

Instantly she dropped to her knees as her fingers worked deftly at pulling his pants down and then his underwear. She'd sucked a handful of dicks so she knew a couple of moves.

Getting her hand around his thick shaft proved to be a small challenge. To say he was thick… understatement. Long too. His tip was smooth, mushroomed with ridges along the length that she hoped she'd get to feel later on. His was the kind of cock that women dreamed of.

Looking up at him she licked her palm and used her spit to pump him slowly. Another glob over his tip for good measure. Then she pressed a kiss to the base of him, just over his sac, and screwed her eyes upward to watch his expression as she licked his balls, one side at a time. She wound her tongue all around to wet him before sucking at one side, pulling it into her mouth and he let out a ragged breath, his dark pupils spreading inky until the soft green had almost vanished.

He liked it.

She worked around the other side, sucking him in again and swirling her tongue softly underneath the tender bits. He gripped the counter behind himself.

Pulling off she straightened her back and licked upward, feeling every delicious thick ridge along his shaft until her tongue met his smooth crown. Laving every crevice of his tip, she dipped her tongue into his slit and then ran it under the frenulum before she wetted every inch of his glans.

Her mouth was watering when she parted her lips around him and flitted her gaze upward. He was watching her with a slack jaw as she took him a little deeper. He cradled the back of her head and moaned.

"Just suck the tip…."

She blinked up at him and pulled her lips just over the lip, swirling and suckling around him like he wanted.

"Fuck. Just like that." His hand at the back of her head was easy. He didn't push or pull. It was more like a pleased gesture as his fingertips flexed around her skull gently.

Y/n would have liked to have gone deeper. Wanted to show him her best work. But he seemed rather happy with what she was doing.

She bobbed a couple of times, only to slide her lips back to his tip. Her pace was slow when she began to stroke his length with a little twisting motion.

He was big. She knew she could take more but in a way, she was grateful that that was all he was asking for.

A groan fell from his chest and he bucked forward, his cock slipping down her tongue and she sucked, drawing more of him in as she moved her hands away.

"Goddamnit, you're good."

She took that as permission to go deeper. Relaxing her jaw she closed her eyes and held her breath, pushing down to her limit. She filled her throat with his cock the best she could and gurgled around his tip.

He coughed out a moan and then thumbed at her cheek, "Alright, that's good."

She pulled off of him. His heavy cock aimed right at her face when she sat back on her knees and looked up at him, "I can do better than that."

He laughed and put his hand out for her to take, helping her stand up, "I bet you can. Come on."

Harry kept her hand in his as he led her to his bedroom. It was just past the dark living space and he turned on a floor lamp on the opposite side of the room from the bed. When he turned back toward her he cupped her face and kissed her again.

She pressed her hand into his warm, hard chest and he reached around the back of her dress to pull the zipper downward, his fingers dragging down her skin as he went. His touch sent a tremor down her spine as continued kissing her wetly.

He stepped back, helping her out of her dress until it fell to the floor. His eyes raked over her body and he smoothed his hands over her hips and up to her bra-covered breasts. He stepped in closer, walking her backward toward his bed. He put his hands back on her hips and nudged her to sit before he reached down to lift her leg up by her calf, removing her heels, one at a time.

Y/n's thong was drenched. She stared at him while he placed her shoes side by side at the foot of the bed and then he placed his big palms on her thighs, pushing her legs open, "Lie back."

She let her back hit the mattress as Harry got to his knees on the floor. An arm reached under her thigh as he spread her apart and then she felt her panties being pulled at until her her wet pusslips were right in his face. He groaned and felt a hand slide up the inside of her thigh. He pressed his mouth over her mons and looked up at her before he opened his mouth wide and drew his tongue through her crease making her gasp.

"Get your bra off."

She pushed herself up slightly and worked at the clasp of her bra between moans as Harry continued licking at her pussy. When she pulled her arm through the flimsy material he lifted his head and reached around her back, pulling her closer to the edge of the bed and he sucked a nipple into his mouth.

"Oh, fuck!"

Y/n's finger and her long nails pushed into Harry's hair and scraped at his scalp as he licked and pulled at each nipple. He buried his face between her tits and let out a low sound, like he was murmuring something to her but only her breasts were allowed to hear it.

When he sunk back down he pushed at her so she'd lie back and he started in on her clit, one hand holding her panties to the side as he devoured her glistening cunt.

She kept feeling like she was going to slide off the edge of the bed but Harry's grip on her kept her still. His tongue and his lips were magic as he drew her to her end. She yanked at his hair and babbled his name on repeat as her spine bowed off the bed when she came.

Her chest was still rising and falling heavy when she felt her body being pushed upward. She popped her eyes open and watched him roll a condom over his shaft before he kneed back up onto the bed next to her. He was stark naked. His body was insane. Thick muscle and masculine everything. Tattoos scatter over his arms and chest.

Fuck, she muttered under her breath.

"Flip over, for me," his deep voice was husky as he motioned toward her to move.

She rolled to her stomach and she felt his fingers slide between the band of her panties and her hips as he pulled them down her legs.

"Ass up a little. I want to see all of you, Y/n."

She grinned and turned to look at him over her shoulder as she lifted her hips and spread her thighs. His lips were parted as he grabbed her ass and squeezed, making her cheeks spread apart. He inhaled sharply through his teeth and then dipped in, kissing her pussy from behind before licking upward over her ass.

She squealed quietly and bit her lip, still watching him behind her as he lifted, a lopsided grin on his face. He gazed at her as he fisted the base of his cock and slid the head up and down her soaked folds before he tipped his hips to push in just the tip.

"Gorgeous. Gonna look even better wrapped around cock. You like anal?"

"Never tried it."

He licked his lips and pressed his lips together as he looked at the spot where his dick was pressed against her cunt, "Figured. S'alright. Pussy's my favorite anyway."

"We could try… if you want."

He looked back into her eyes, a cocky smile on his face, "Your little hole would need to be trained. And that takes time. So, there will be no anal tonight. Not gonna try and hurt you. But that's a cute thought."

He canted his hips inward, eyes on hers and her mouth dropped open when she felt her entrance splitting open for him. She was tight, but so slick, it only took a few slow thrusts until he was buried in with a low grunt. He pulled back and then pushed his entire length into the hilt.

"Fuck—fuck!" She cried and stuffed her face into the blankets.

"Too much?"

"No! It's so good. You're just so big…" She began to send her hips back against him and Harry slowly fucked in to match her pace. His eyes were everywhere. On her puss getting split open on his cock, the curve of her lower back, the swell of her ass.

He just knew she'd look so sweet with her ass stuffed too, but good things like that couldn't be rushed which was a shame.

Every thrust was gushy wet. Y/n bubbled out small moans every time his dick brushed deep into her guts. It was better than she imagined. The way he filled her to the brim was going to turn into an addiction. She'd never slept with any man that had her wanting seconds before they'd even finished.

"Oh my god…" she mewled into the comforter.

"Fuck, I know, baby…"

She fit him like a glove, it was perfect. He went in a little faster, balls thudding against her skin rhythmically making her bounce forward as she spread around his girth. When he ground in she arched her back deeply and let out a soft groan, her hands fisted at the blanket and Harry reached around and smeared his fingertips over her clit.

It had her panting and pushing into him feverishly. She'd needed the friction on her throbbing button and he'd found it easily, thick, rough fingerprints slicking back and forth as he rutted in and in. It sent electrical sparks over her limbs.

"Like that? Needs her clit touched? Shit baby, act like you've never been touched by a man right here before…" he plucked at her like he was playing the guitar and she began to fade, her moans getting caught in her chest.

He could feel her walls tightening around him as he drove in deep.

"Fuck, Harry— fuck!"

He grinned as he watched her shudder, "Give it up, Y/n. There you go…"

She began to pulse around him, a constant stream of nonsense falling from her lips as he stroked against her channel and pushed deep into her tummy, his fingers still working her clit with ease.

Just as her body had tipped and oxygen returned to her lungs he pulled out and she felt him taking her hips and turning her around to her back. Harry grabbed her ankles and lifted until each was settled over his shoulders and pushed back inside of her, cock drilling down to her core making her teeth chatter at the way he split her down the middle.

Harry leaned over her, cock buried deep as she watched her pretty face twist up with pleasure. Plapping into her, her tits wobbled as his balls tightened against his body. The harder he plunged in, the more her legs shook. Soon, her ankles had slipped down and her feet hit the mattress as he continued drilling into her. His face was flushed hot, lips parted, muscles tensed.

Reaching up to his neck she smoothed her fingers over his warm skin and he lowered his chest down to hers and kissed her. That filthy tongue ran over her lips and he sloppily sipped at her between sucking at her lips. Her brain had turned to jelly.

She felt his hand on her outer thigh squeezing and brushing as he fucked down into her. "Mmm… fuck, Y/n, m'gonna come…"

He trembled over her, thick thighs pressed down and flexed as he rutted in and in and in, and then… he stilled. A deep, guttural moan vibrated through his chest down into hers.

She sighed when she felt him throbbing, pumping into his condom. Her fingers caressed the muscles over his back and she gasped when he bucked in harshly, once more as he emptied the last of his come into the rubber wrapped around his cock.

He slowed his kisses until they were lazy little pecks and then he looked down at her, his chest heaving. She was already grinning up at him.

"What?"

She blinked her eyes, "That was fun."

He puffed out a breath, "I guess that's a good way to describe it."

Harry was a gentleman as he pulled out slowly and helped her off the bed and led her to his bathroom. He helped her clean up and listened to her tell him about her job —just reminding him that she was an adult after he commented on her being so young again.

When she picked her dress up off the floor and started to step into it, Harry frowned, "What are you doing?"

She stopped and raised her brows. "Getting dressed. Was gonna call an Uber. I'm sure you don't want a stranger in your house all night," she laughed.

Harry pulled at her hand, making her drop her dress, "What kind of men have you been hanging out with that let you leave in an Uber at 2 am? You'll stay here."

She opened her mouth and then closed it in surprise before tilting her head in confusion, "Really? I just assumed—"

"You'll stay the night here. There's no way in hell you're getting an Uber at this time of night. It's dangerous."

She grinned and shrugged, "Well then… can I have a shirt or something to sleep in?"

He placed his warm hands on her hips, "You can have a t-shirt if you like. I prefer to sleep naked myself."

"Oh yeah? I usually do too as a matter of fact."

He held her out in his arms and eyed her naked frame, "Looks like we're both good to go then. We'll get you sorted in the morning. I'll give you a ride home then."

"I think you just want to keep me here with you," she chuckled.

Harry shook his head and released her hips before he popped her on the bottom with his palm. She bleated out a laugh.

"Get your ass in bed before I change my mind."

"Yes, sir."

. .

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[siriuslylantsov]

save a horse

pairing: joel miller x reader

description: joel puts on his old cowboy getup and it gives you an idea.

tags: MDNI! smut, porn w/o plot, no outbreak au, established relationship, age gap, fem!reader, unprotected piv, riding, thigh riding, dirty talk (kinda?), nipple stuff (bcs i think joel miller is a boob man), praise kink kinda, little domestic.

a/n: my first joel miller smut! because i've been reading an ungodly amount, i can't stop thinking about him...

wc: 2.2k

“oh my god,” your voice comes out stunned as you walk in, kicking the door shut behind you.

a cowboy. sitting on your couch. well, joel dressed as a cowboy on your couch. 

he stands up with a grin, a little shy. “found this in my storage. from some years ago, can't believe it still fits me.”

flannel and jeans, old and a little faded–the jeans fit more snuggly against his thighs compared to his normal ones that you can't help but gawk. he's dressed the same way as always but this time there's a hat on his head and a belt around his hips adorned with a flashy buckle. his boots click lightly on the floor as he makes his way over to you, your eyes dart down to them.

“woulda wore the chaps too but that felt like overkill,” he says, dropping his hands to your waist. “d’ya like it?”

do you like it? you stare up at him a bit incredulous, at a loss for words as you check him out slowly. when you meet his gaze again, the shadow of his hat darkens the top of his face, yet you can still see the way his eyes glisten hopefully.

“yeah baby,” you whisper, leaning up to kiss his jaw, his beard scratching your lips slightly.

his grin widens and he pulls you closer, “good.”

“you did this for me?” 

“well, yeah. thought it’d be fun.”

“fun how?” you tease, slipping your fingers into his belt loops and tugging them.

“hate it when you work blue,” he grumbles, his small smirk telling you otherwise.

“no you don't,” you counter with a knowing smile. your lips part as if you're going to say something but they quickly shut.

joel eyes you curiously, eyebrows furrowed trying to figure you out, “spill.”

you hesitate for a moment, chewing the inside of your cheek before speaking.

“i've always wanted to ride a cowboy.”

his head cocks to the side, eyebrows raised, amused. “oh yeah?”

“yeah,” you breathe, nodding before jutting your head toward the couch. “sit please.”

you stand between his spread legs as he sits. leaning back, he lazily lifts a hand to unbutton your jeans, popping it off with ease as if he's done it a hundred times before–he has. when he pulls them down, you take your shirt off, leaving you in your underwear. 

“what's that thing people say? save a horse, ride a cowboy?” you ask and joel stares at you shamelessly, eyes dragging down and back up, utterly enticed.

“‘s a song by um- big ‘n rich,” he murmurs distractedly as he hones in on the little bow on your bra, right in the middle. you pinch the tip of his hat and lift it off his head, placing it on top of yours instead. fingers snake itself through his soft hair and guide his head back so he can look at you.

“hi,” your voice comes out quiet, coy. you smile down sweetly at him and you find him mirroring it. “hi darlin’.”

your gaze trails down his body again, stopping at his thighs. it's obscene how good they look in his old jeans, he's obviously filled into them well. the fabric stretches tight over his limbs, hugging them perfectly. what if you just-

with a finger in the waistband of your panties you pull them down in one swift motion, moving your body to hover over his right thigh, now in between your legs.

he groans something pained when he realises what you're about to do, hands flying back up to your waist to urge you down and body scooting forward so it's easier. you gasp when you lower yourself, legs parted just right that your clit brushes against the fabric of his jeans upon contact. 

fuck.

the patch of wet on the denim comes as a surprise when you draw your hips back, you didn't realise you were that wet. you rock your hips again, experimentally, and the friction is debilitating. you’d fall over if joel's hands weren’t keeping you steady.

speaking of them, he begins to guide you back and forth, and your eyes snap back to him in alarm. he gives you an encouraging nod, keep going. you have to hear it from him and he knows that. 

“cmon, baby. want you to feel good,” he spurs while nodding again, pushing down to apply more pressure, your mouth falls open in a gasp. but you take his words in tow and keep going. 

maybe it's a little pathetic how you rut against his leg, little whines escaping your parted lips, but he doesn't seem to mind. he's more than okay watching you like this as he rubs circles into your hip bone. 

“joel, i can't-” you sob, legs beginning to ache from the way you were perched. it feels so good but you’re quickly regretting how you chose to go about this, half sat and calves straining from the weight. you pout, lips trembling, and he looks absolutely wrecked by this.

what you hadn't realised was that every so often your knee pushed into his crotch, he was being stimulated as much as you. the hard-on he's sporting pushes against the confines of his jeans, he’d gladly come untouched if he didn’t want to be inside you as badly as he did. 

“yeah, you can, baby,” he grits through his teeth, “gimme this one, want you t’come first.”

his fingers start tweaking your nipple under your bra, and god, he starts flexing his thigh. he hopes the added incentive will help push you over the edge. to his delight, the oh so familiar feeling starts to build embarrassingly fast in the pit of your stomach. 

your head falls back in a high, baring your neck to him. this in turn causes the hat to slowly slip off your head, he smiles and tucks it back on, repeating the motion of his thigh, bouncing ever so slightly.

“oh fuck. fuck. fuck-” you finish with a whine, body collasping into itself. joel reaches out to hold you to him as your hips stutter. his head dips to your neck, kissing the skin softly as you come down. 

“there ya go. did so good for me, angel,” he speaks into your skin.

you get off his thigh and slump onto the couch with a groan, ignoring the startlingly dark patch you leave on his jeans. you're catching your breath when you nudge him playfully with your elbow, he's equally leaned back, head tipped to the side, looking at you with awe in his eyes.

“i think your bad joints are contagious, old man.”

this makes him scoff. you take the hat off, placing it on his lap before bringing both knees to your chest and squeezing to relieve some of the tension, they really did ache. to this, he laughs and drops his head to your shoulder.

“what? i'm serious, they hurt,” you defend, albeit a little petulantly.

“but you came?”

“yes,” you respond, dragging the word out in exaggeration.

“and ya felt good?”

“yes, miller,” you grumble, nosing the hair of his that tickled your face.

“i don't see any problem in a little hurt, s’what i go through every time,” he mutters quietly.

“every time, huh?”

you feel him nod dutifully and you chuckle. his age usually made itself known after sex–either by complaining about his hips or his knees cracking after a taxing session of eating you out, not that he minded.

he lifts his head and shifts, leaning in. “so when ya gonna ride this cowboy?”

impatient, but he had been waiting.

you look down to his crotch, still painfully hard, and the corners of your mouth pull down in faux sympathy.

“poor baby,” you coo, taunting although he knows you’re teasing. “want me to fuck you?”

his eyes meet yours in searing eye contact, deadpan, but the way his eyes crinkle at the corners betray him, he’s trying not to smile. with a curt dip of his chin, he nods, yes. 

and who are you to deny him?

you nudge him to lean back again and put the damn hat back on his head. god, he looks sexy. 

you settle on taking his pants off, leaving them and the belt pooled around his feet. and when you unbutton his shirt, you stop him from taking it off completely–liking how his skin peeked down the middle. you settle on his lap, legs bracketing his thighs. you kiss him, sweet and gentle, head tilted more than usual because of the hat. his hands drift up your back to the clasp of your bra, quickly unfastening it and letting it fall. you slip your hand under his boxers and palm him, you like the weight of him your hands.

“baby-” he drawls. “please.”

“i know, i know.”

you pull him out of his boxers and rise to your knees, positioning yourself accordingly. you swipe the tip through your folds a few times, relishing in the groan it earns you before pushing in, tantalisingly slow. 

you brace yourself on his shoulders, it's always a stretch with joel. when he's bottomed out, you let out a deep long winded sigh. you stay like that for a moment, eyes closed. the angle is maddening and the way your weight settles on top of him drives him crazy.

you tentatively rise and sink back down slowly. fuck. you do it again and again. joel shoots you a proud grin, his hands back at your waist to help you. a breathy moan escapes you when the tip of him drags against your g-spot on the ascent .

“attagirl. there she is," joel mumbles, always keen on your sounds. “feels good, huh?”

“mhm, feels- so good, joel,” you sigh, rocking back and forth now.

“i bet,” he responds with a grunt, “can feel you squeezin’ around me.”

you whimper at that, back arching and effectively pushing your tits closer to his face. he tries to lean closer but the hat stops him, hitting your sternum.

“stupid fuckin’ hat,” he grumbles, tossing it away. it flies somewhere beside the coffee table and you laugh, ducking down to kiss him as he continues making incoherent annoyed noises. a hat is not going to deny him what he wants.

he hums low against your lips, trailing his kisses down to your neck. he nips at your skin, placing a peck to your collarbone before reaching his destination. his lips close around your nipple, hand securing itself between your shoulders to hold you firm against his mouth. 

“oh fuck,” you breathe. you look down to find him already looking back up at you and the sight is depraved, downright filthy. 

you card a hand through his greying hair and tighten, speeding up the motion of your hips. his free hand tweaks the neglected nipple and he is everywhere. you can’t handle it. a weak grunt sounds from you and he knows.

“joel please-” you cut yourself off with a broken moan as he begins to suck, pinching the sensitive bud between his teeth. he switches over to the other one and repeats, leaving you a whining mess in his lap.

“s'okay, baby. i got you,” he coos, lifting his head up to kiss you again. he pulls your body closer, holding you to his chest, bracing you. because before you know it his hips jump to meet yours, fucking up into you. 

he swallows every lewd sound you make, responding with a quick snap of his hips. “always take me so well, pretty girl. like you're made for this cock, huh?”

“mhm, i love it,” you slur.

he grins, breath growing heavier as his peak nears. he recognises the expression on your face instantly, eyebrows pinched together and eyes fighting to be closed, he knows you're in the same boat and he’ll be damned if he doesn't get you to cum first.

“you close, angel?” he whispers, forehead pressed to yours. when you nod, he hums sympathetically, fucking you harder. his hips slap against yours incessantly and you let out a muffled cry, holding onto him for dear life. 

“that’s it, take it,” he encourages as he feels your walls clamp down. “cum for me, baby.”

your nails leave crescent shaped imprints on his shoulder, back, anywhere you can hold onto as you tip over the edge, keening loudly, it borders on a scream. 

his orgasm quickly follows as his hips stutter, spilling into you with a shudder and a groan. he lazily fucks into you a few more times, riding out the aftershocks before stilling.

the two of you sit there, breathless, skin sticking to each other . his head dips and falls onto your chest as he hugs you to his body. his breath comes out in soft puffs against your skin, warm. 

“that was...,” you mumble, heart finally slowing down.

he chuckles, dry and low that it makes you shiver. “yeah.”

“joel?”

he lifts his head up, eyes soft and admiring when he looks at you. he hums in acknowledgment.

“wear the chaps next time.”

he laughs again, something heartier as he takes in your face, deadly serious. he kisses your chin, “yes ma’am.”

reblogs and replies are appreciated :) | m.list

interested in more joel, read this!

[silverskyeline]

'joyride' 18+

✭ logan promptober day 1 - motorbike oneshot - logan fucks you on his (scotts) motorbike in the middle of the forest because you can't keep it down inside the mansion. (1.7k words) pairing - logan howlett (x-men timeline) + afab!reader tags - established relationship, reader lives at the x-mansion, pet names + praising (princess, doll, good girl etc), he fucks you on scotts bike, lots of dirty talk, dom!logan and sub!reader, wet mentions, creampie, overstimulation, reader orgasms twice, he covers your mouth to keep you quiet, outdoor sex, a little rough, reader wears a skirt.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

it's dark, the trees and forest surrounding the road only serving to cloak the ground below even further. you can make out his silhouette above you, lit only by the moon high in the sky. he's big, broad, towering over you as his frame moves with each thrust, casting a shadow down upon your body.

he's got you laying on your back on his bike parked at the side of the road. well, scott's bike. logan would clean it before he returned it, or maybe he wouldn't. scott was well acquainted with cleaning up messes.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

you fit perfectly against the seat, your back supported against the fuel tank with your legs draped over either side of him on his thighs. his rough hands had hiked your shirt up over your chest, revealing your breasts that he'd littered with kisses just moments before plunging deep inside of you.

"wore a skirt cus' you knew i was gonna fuck you, huh?" he grins, you can just about make out a flash of white from his teeth in the darkness. you don't want to say yes, too embarrassed to, but he knows that's exactly why you dressed the way you did. "givin' me easy access? how kind of you, doll."

soft little moans are slipping from your lips from the way his cock eases past your panties he's pushed to the side and glides inside of you with little resistance. he fills you so perfectly, your walls have become accustomed to his thick length and crave the way it stretches you out just right.

he's holding you in place, gripping your waist as he picks up the pace. the bike creaks a little with the movement, protesting under the rigorous thrusting. "good girl. . ." he coos with a low grumble, "tell me how it feels, tell me how i'm makin' you feel."

"feels so good," you whimper, it's all you can manage, letting your head fall back against the metal of the handlebars, one hand gripping the side of the bike and the other gripping the front of logan's white tank to keep yourself steady.

he could listen to you all day, he's drowning in the noises you make, his heightened hearing serving him well - the quiet mewls, the wet sounds from your dripping pussy, the way your breath hitches in your throat. logan drinks it all up, his mouth watering, he can't get enough.

"bet you were gettin' wet the whole way here," he grumbles through each thrust, "bet you left a real pretty wet patch on the seat, didn't ya?" there's a clear smirk in his voice as he continues, "mmh, n' now you're takin' my cock like you were made for it. takin' it so fuckin' well, look at that. . ."

his eyes drift downwards to watch the way his length disappears inside your pretty pink pussy, he exhales shakily at the sight of you sucking him in. he pulls out, almost all the way but not quite, seeing how your slick glistens on his dick in the moonlight. his eyes flutter shut as he slams back in, biting his lip as you instinctively clench around him at the harsh movement.

you cry out and it echoes into the forest, thighs tensing as his dick curves inside of you, threatening to hit that spot that makes you go fucking crazy. the sound you make spurs him on, encourages him, a low rumbling laugh escaping him as he fucks into you with renewed vigour.

"takin' it like a good girl," he praises you, rubbing his thumbs across the exposed skin on your waist as he watches your chest bounce with every slam of his cock, "but you gotta be quiet, yeah? they'll be able to hear you back at the mansion with those moans, am i makin' you feel that good?"

you can't help but nod, whimpering softly in an effort to suppress the noises he's pulling from you. logan always knew exactly how to fuck you, how to make you sing out, how to find that perfect angle as he pounds you relentlessly.

he hadn't even needed to knock on your door to invite you out that night, you were already watching him wistfully from your bedroom window as he approached the bike. logan caught your eye and smirked as he jerked his head, signalling for you to come with. and come you did.

"fuck, i'm gonna cum!" you frantically scream, gasping suddenly as you feel the pleasure coil in your gut. it's coming in slow-rising waves, each brush of his cock against your sensitive, spongy g-spot threatening to tip you over the edge.

his hand is over your mouth, muffling your moans as he picks up the pace, his other arm wraps around your thigh, helping his angle and allowing him to push deeper. the bike is really rocking now. brows twitching, he knows he's close too. he often can't help but cum from all the beautiful sounds you make when you're close, and it doesn't help - the way your pussy so desperately clenches around him. you're practically begging him to cum deep inside of you.

"shhhh," he shakes his head, grinning down at you, "that's it. . . that's it, cum for me pretty girl. cum for me nice and quiet, right here, right now, on this bike. cum for me cus' i'm askin' you to, tellin' you to."

his words do nothing to calm the rising tide within you, they spur your orgasm on further. between his filthy, dirty laced demands and his cock plunging deep into your aching walls, you feel yourself coming apart at the seams.

you're screaming beneath his palm as you feel the edge near, and before you know it you're tumbling over it with a loud moan, eyes rolling back. "fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck me - fuck me logan!" is what he'd hear if he moved his hand from your mouth, but his calloused hand stays roughly planted over your lips as you cum. loud. hard.

"oh fuck, shit-" he curses under his breath, feeling your walls flutter around him as you arch your back off the fuel tank, "cum around my cock, that's it, atta' girl."

it's almost too much, the praise, the dirty talk, the way he's making light work of you with his throbbing length. he makes you see stars every time, your eyes rolling back to see the actual stars above you both, the woods filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin as he shows no signs of slowing down.

you're struggling to keep your eyes open, feeling the orgasm wash over your whole body, a warmth spreading from your groin. it feels so good, and he can tell. he can see it in your eyes as he watches them flutter.

"you're gonna make me cum," logan pants softly into the cool night air, "gonna cum inside that pussy, you want that? hm? want me to fuckin' paint your walls with my cum? gonna be spillin' out the whole ride home."

holy fuck his words. you feel a second orgasm approaching, chasing the end of the first.

he's moaning, grunting as he pumps into you. his thick veins throb against your walls as he feels himself cum, white hot ropes spilling into your begging cunt. his mouth falls open, gasping as your pussy drinks it all up through your second orgasm, taking every last drop just like he knew you would, just as you do every time he takes you out here to fuck you.

logan catches his breath, hunched over you as he sits up, moving a hand to your waist to keep you steady as his other hand runs through his hair. hand slipping from your mouth, he lets it trail down your chest, along your tummy, to rest over your mound. his thumb spreads apart your wet folds before diving in to find your clit.

you gasp, clearly overstimulated from both orgasms. your legs twitch, your whole body shaking slightly as he plays with you. he can't help but smirk at the reaction he can illicit from you just from a few little strokes.

"sensitive," he mutters, thumb dancing across your sensitive bud, "you were such a good girl for me, i gotta train you to be quieter though." logan tilts his head, watching as you squirm beneath him, "can't keep taking you out here just to fuck you, you gotta learn to behave n' keep it down so i can fuck you at the mansion too."

whining, your hand snakes down to join his over your clit, urging him to go slower, and he does.

"though," his smirk widens, "you do look too good like this, spread out for me on this bike, messy and drippin' with my cum." eyes trailing down your body, he admires each and every inch of you. "think i'll keep fuckin' you on it even after you learn to be quiet, i'd have you anywhere. . ."

he leans down, kissing along the valley of your chest, "in my bed. . ." he continues, kissing down along your tummy, "in your bed," he sits up, "in the garden. . ." his thumb on your clit speeds up, causing you to gasp, "anywhere i can have you. i will."

you whimper and he hushes you, "you like the sound of that, princess?" logan nods, "want me to take care of you everywhere? fuck you so hard in that bed of yours where you sit and think about me?"

your cheeks flush a deep red, squirming on the cool metal of the bike. the night air nips at your heated skin.

"thought so," he grins and pulls his hand away from your clit which earns a pathetic whine from you, bringing his thumb to his mouth to lick your sweet, sticky wetness from it.

you watch him with an almost hypnotised look through hooded lids. but he grins, this wasn't over. he wasn't done with you yet.

"let's go home and test just how quiet you can be, hm?"

[syoddeye]

cygnet, plucked | price x reader | part one part one cw: clothes stealing, forced transformation, coercion, familial abandonment, non-consensual touching/manhandling, restraints, masturbation mention, forced marriage forthcoming cw: dubcon, forced marriage, blood, mild injury a/n: reader is a swan shapeshifter. she retains some feathers as a human. based off this request, obvs influenced by swan-maidens, swan lake.

The first time he touches you, it's your wrist. A firm grip, just below the joint. Testing. Feeling the few feathers that sprout there, thumbing over the delicate, individual rachis.

You don't move. Don't speak. Torn between the instinct to flee and the paralyzing fear that you cannot. You watch his face. The thick brows, the kempt beard. The wrinkles that pull at his forehead when he frowns.

He is older than you—older than you look, at least. His arms are burly, heavy with muscle and hair, his shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows like he means to get his hands dirty at any moment. Willing to. Blue eyes, your favorite color until this second, framed by crow's feet and speak to experience.

He looks at you with expectations you wish you didn't understand.

"Can't leave without this, can you?"

Your dress, spun from feathers and thread, drapes over his shoulder like a pelt. As if it were a thing he hunted, caught, claimed—that he did not simply steal it from the lakeshore when you were distracted. It doesn't belong there. It doesn't belong anywhere but on you.

"Come along. Don't make this harder than it needs to be."

Your sisters are gone. Fled, shrieking into the oncoming sunrise. You do not blame them. But it hurts. 

The lake is still. Empty.

He lets the silence stretch, patient. He has all the time in the world. You don't.

You've watched human men before, from a safe distance, tucked among the reeds with your sisters. You've seen what they do when they think no one is watching. The way their faces shift at the sight of a woman. The way their hands reach, take, ruin.

You are a flightless bird, exposed. Not much of a swan. A sitting duck.

What choice do you have?

You follow.

You learn his name is John. That he has lived in this cabin for almost a year. That he built it himself. That he traps and skins, chops wood, salts fish, keeps a gun out of reach, hidden like your dress.

He tells you these things in pieces, the same way he feeds you. A bowl of soup set down in front of you with no ceremony. A tin cup of well water. A torn hunk of bread.

He talks a little, asks a little.

"Never seen anything like you," he says on the second night while you cower behind his chair by the fire. Where you slept after tearing out of his arms and screaming yourself hoarse. "Wish you'd talk to me. Awfully shy, aren't you?"

It galls you. Shy. As if he is not keeping you here, naked. Vulnerable. You ache for your wings. The sky.

You say nothing.

He exhales through his nose, it sounds like a laugh. "I suppose it's not an easy thing, coming from a life like yours."

You want to ask him what he thinks your life was. But you don't want to know what he would say.

He keeps the dress in a chest under his bed.

You desperately search and find it while he is outside splitting wood. The latch is loose. Stupidly unlocked. You lift the lid and your breath catches. There it is. Your feathers, your escape, the lifeline that made you you.

Your fingers graze the fabric. It should be soft, but it feels wrong, foreign and unfamiliar under your hands. You wonder if it is altered. If it will still fit. If it's too late, tainted by his handling.

"Looking for something?"

You slam the lid shut.

John stands in the doorway, hands on his hips. Forehead slick with sweat. The axe is outside, leaning against the chopping block, but his knife is at his belt.

He'd hurt you if you tried to run, maybe kill you. You are not so sure you want to die.

You don't answer.

He crosses the room. He doesn't look angry. He looks—wry. Pleased. Like he had been waiting for this.

He kneels beside you, one arm resting on his knee, and tilts his head. Reeking of pine and tobacco smoke. "That's not for you anymore, darling."

You swallow. This is the closest you've been since he entrapped you. "It is mine."

He nods, as if conceding the point. "And what would you do with it?" he asks. "Go back? To what?"

He reaches out, wiping away a single, hot tear. The fireplace pops, and you feel the warmth of his skin before you feel the roughness of his fingers. You hate it.

"The lake is still empty. They've not come back."

You think of your sisters. You think of the wind under your wings and streaming over your back, the open sky. You think of the sound of John reviving the hearth in the morning, how he dropped a blanket over you the first night, and said, You'll freeze like that.

Of course, he thinks nothing of the fact that he's the reason why you're naked. Blind to it or willfully ignorant.

"It's just you and me now. I'll take care of you, Shy."

Shy. That isn't your name. But you'll be dead before you give your real one to him. At least something will remain yours.

You look at him. He is a big man. Broad shoulders and palms. Thick, hairy arms and a barrel chest. You've seen the thing between his legs—he's made no efforts to hide himself or alter his routine with you hiding in the corner. He touches himself in the dark when he thinks you're sleeping.

He could break you easily. But he hasn't.

Not yet.

He brushes his knuckles over your cheek.

"Can't believe I found you," he says. "A pretty wife, fished from the lake. Or the sky, I suppose." He smiles, chuckling as if you're both in on the joke. "Mm. Wife." He presses his thumb to your bottom lip. "Yeah, like the sound of that. I'll make you a proper wife."

The way he says it is careful. Thoughtful. It is a promise, or a threat. You cannot tell which. 

You look at the chest.

You look at John.

And you do not answer.

John returns at dusk, the door creaking wide to let in the last slant of daylight, and finds you trussed up where he left you. Your wrists are raw, delicate skin rubbed angry beneath the ropes that tightened with your struggling. 

His shadow spills over you, and a sigh slips from him, edged with disappointment. He crouches. Fingers press into your skin, prodding where the rope bit deepest.

"Damn near hurt yourself, honey," he scolds, massaging the worst of the raw spots. He touches you in the way you've seen him care for his axe. Slow, reverent, making sure nothing is too damaged. Unusable. 

A hand settles over the soft, feathery patch above your rump, fingers carding through it appreciatively, lingering before he unravels the last knot. He ignores your hissing.

The moment you're free, you scramble away, body aching. You tuck yourself behind his chair, peeking out with sharp, distrustful eyes. He lets you go, lets you think you've won some small mercy. 

Then he turns his back, shaking out his coat, unpacking the sack he carried in, setting out each item on the table. Dull, practical offerings—salt, flour, needles, twine. Things for a life you don't want. Things for a home you will never call yours. And last, draped over his forearm, a dress. Mundane. Plain, homespun, the color of stone.

But you are distracted. Staring at the chest.

He only addresses your fixation when he's finished, and hauls it out from under the bed. 

"Take a look."

You do. You don't want to, but you do. Your gaze flicks to him first, wary, waiting for the trap. You open it, and your stomach drops.

Your head snaps up, stuttering, eyes glossing over with hot, helpless rage. 

His smile stretches, knowing. Then, he produces the last item from his trip and draws a bundle from the sack.

He explains it's the reason why he's later than expected. A special order that took hours and a bit of coin, but was well worth it. The seamstress did fine work.

Isn't it pretty?

See the little wing pattern she stitched in?

They're the only wings you'll have now.

He holds it out, delicate feathers and lace draping over his hand, the ruined remnants of your freedom reshaped into something grotesque. A wedding veil.

"Try it on for me, darling," he murmurs, offering it with one hand and adjusting himself with the other. "Let me see my bride."

[jk97]

Unprofessional Attraction | ONE

♡ pairing - yunho x afab!reader ♡ word count - 13K ♡ series synopsis - There's no such thing as a coincidence, right? CollegeSenior!Reader (22) and linguistics teacher Yunho Jeong (27) indulge in an entanglement of inappropriate gravitation. It's risky and it's wrong, but listening to one's better judgment never leads to anything as intoxicating. When someone threatens this secret relationship with blackmail to expose the truth, things take a turn for the worse. Graduation can't seem to come fast enough. ♡ warnings for this chapter - fluff and explicit content (mdni), slight age gap, teacher/student relationship, other members are featured, pining, some obsessive behavior and manipulation (mainly from reader), drinking alcohol, inebriated driving (big no no frens!) perverted!yunho, bigdick!yunho, sprinkles of praise, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex (mention of bc pill tho), porn with plot  ♡ A/N - part one is kinda tame, the next two parts will have more explicit scenes. I hope you enjoy, and please look forward to the rest! I haven't posted a fic on tumblr in many years so pls be kind ♡

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Yeosang is too attentive, especially when it comes to his best friend.

That’s why he knows you well enough to call you out when he whispers, “You’re staring again.”

“I’m staring at the whiteboard, pretty sure that’s what you’re supposed to do in class,” you argue, not bothering to even glance at him. It’s quite obvious that your eyes are too busy soaking in things that don’t have to do with phonology.

Your linguistics teacher, Yunho Jeong, is dressed particularly charmingly today. Something about the tight-fitting white polo shirt and chocolate brown slacks he has on this class is too distracting. It doesn’t help that his hair is a little more messy than usual, you wonder if he was running late this morning. Linguistics has nothing to do with your major, however, for your final semester in college, you simply needed a filler class for your last few credits. Yeosang suggested joining him in this class so you could both support each other, but he never factored in the fact that you’d be too distracted by the teacher to do anything of use for him. There weren’t many younger teachers such as Yunho at your university; in fact, you were pretty sure this was only his second semester teaching in general. He was generally a mild-mannered and easygoing teacher, but he was also able to command a room when necessary.

A minute later, Yunho offers everyone a 10-minute break since the last section of his lecture lasted a little longer than he anticipated, and the class immediately breaks out into chatter.

“He’s single, you know,” Yeosang turns towards you and props up his head on his palm, “Or so I’ve heard.”

“Don’t tell me things like that, you’ll make me delusional.”

He doesn’t miss the goofy smile tugging at your lips as you stretch your tired limbs from too much sitting. The lectures for this class were two hours long, but they were only twice a week on Wednesdays and Fridays, so you couldn’t complain too much.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“That I might have a chance with him,” you nudge him playfully.

“I’m not sure he’d want to date someone barely passing his own class,” Yeosang quips quickly, subsequently squeezing his eyes shut when you flick his forehead in response.

“Watch your mouth, I am not ‘barely passing’!” You return your eyes to the subject of your conversation, slowly taking in his form, “For the record, I could definitely pull him if I tried to. You think he likes younger women?”

“That is a terrible idea,” your best friend immediately shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Surely I would be guaranteed to pass then though, no?” you offer instead, half-joking.

“You haven’t gotten laid in the last month and this is the first person that comes to your mind to fix that?” Yeosang scoffs incredulously.

“I wouldn’t just be in it for the sex,” you clarify. Your keen eyes watch his every move, from the way that his large hands flex as he thumbs at his phone to the way he purses his lips in curiosity at whatever he’s looking up. Like a lion stalking a gazelle before pouncing. “He’s quite literally perfect. Tall, smart, handsome, financially stable… the whole package. I deserve a man like that, right Yeo?”

You meet Yeosang’s eyes curiously, and he reminds you, “I think you’re forgetting he’s our teacher .”

“We graduate soon,” you whine, “Act now, worry later. I could graduate with a boyfriend already lined up the minute I get handed my degree.”

“You’re playing with fire, ____,” he holds his hands up in surrender. As your best friend, he knows you’re not joking, despite how much you might play it off later. He knows that once you set your mind on something, you generally don’t stop until it’s achieved, “Let’s see you try, though. It’ll be entertaining.”

When class resumes, you listen to the rest of his lecture with renewed cravings and an unusually optimistic disposition Yeosang has never seen you hold for this subject.

From that moment forward, every instance you “stumbled” across your teacher was planned. You figured out which parking lot he parked his car on during the day and bought a proper parking pass for that lot, now alternating between taking the shuttle and your car to the university. Your schedules crossed occasionally on your driving days, and you’d simply offer warm greetings or cheerful send-offs depending on the time of day. Yunho was a man of habit who visited the same campus restaurant nearly every day he worked during lunchtime in between his midday classes. It didn’t take much energy to stop by a couple of days a week and run into Yunho, giving you the ability to strike up a conversation or two when asking for recommendations on what you should order. These instances were simply to put you more on his radar, instead of just being a face in the sea of students in his class.

He seems to be good friends with two other teachers who are also around his age, teachers Seonghwa Park and San Choi. You wonder if getting in their good graces would somehow transfer to your teacher, by word of mouth. Luckily, you have a friend who has Mr. Park for a history seminar. On a Sunday night, you shoot a text to set the stage.

  [Y/N: Jongho!!!! It’s been so long since we’ve hung out :(( Can I swing by your class tomorrow and pick you up? Let’s get lunch!]

When 2 PM rolls around on Monday, you make the mistake of trusting the shuttle to come on time. It’s nearly 3 PM when you get to the necessary building, and you’re sure Jongho’s class ended close to half an hour ago. The plan to run across Mr. Park is thrown completely out of the window, you are only worried about Jongho being upset with you. You know he’d never, but still. Being late to something planned ahead of time always upsets you to no end. You curse at yourself over and over every stride down the hall, and it’s good that the hallways are virtually empty or else you’d probably look crazy. Eventually, you make it to your destination.

You’re just about to blindly call out an apology to Jongho but end up stopping dead in your tracks as soon as you enter the door; not only is Mr. Park in the room seated at his desk, but he’s also accompanied by Mr. Choi and Mr. Jeong. They’re huddled together, Yunho leaning against the whiteboard leisurely with a cup of coffee in his hand while intently listening to Seonghwa complain about the registrar’s office fucking up another one of his student’s enrollment for his class.

“There she is,” Jongho sighs this aloud as if his prayers have been answered.

He didn’t know if you were going to still make it and he’s dying of hunger from skipping breakfast. Immediately, all three men’s eyes turn towards the entrance. You pray to God that your face isn’t flushed with how hot you feel being the fixation of so many eyes. Or maybe it’s more so how handsome the men are that those eyes are coming from. This surely isn’t the time to have such a weakness for a strapping man in a button-up and crisp slacks.

“Hello, ____,” Yunho is the first of the three to speak. Subsequently, San amiably nods toward you in acknowledgment.

“Good afternoon all,” you greet everyone, bashfully adding, “I’m so sorry for interrupting.”

“Not interrupting at all,” Seonghwa waves his hands, dispelling those fears, “We were curious why Jongho was sticking back so late. He assured us a friend was coming to get him and we just chose not to leave him.”

Well, this is embarrassing. You nod hastily and glance toward Jongho, who is practically skipping down the lecture hall’s steps. Yunho wants to crack a joke about seeing you everywhere, about how you both must be magnets or something else silly, but he decides to keep that to himself. He doesn’t want it to seem like he’s keeping track of course, even if he is.

Instead, he affirms to the other men, “This is a student of mine.”

Admittedly, your ears had tuned every other word out except “mine”, and you nodded a little too enthusiastically. You haven’t been this discomposed in a long time, too bashful to look any of them in the eyes, and you pray it’s not showing too much elsewhere. Jongho’s friendly hand landing on your shoulder grounds you.

“You ready?”

“Absolutely,” you puff out.

“Don’t cause too much trouble for her, Jongho,” Seonghwa pokes a bit of fun at one of his top students, who replies by waving him away and scoffing. They seem to be relaxed with each other— this is something you desire to achieve with Yunho soon. You snatch up your friend’s hand and finally move to leave for lunch, if it could even be considered that now with how late it is.

“See you Wednesday, Mr. Jeong,” you look back and shoot him a wave, accompanied by a charming smile. He nods back, offering you his own as well.

Unbeknownst to you, San’s eyes follow you out the door with Jongho, especially surveying the plush of your thighs rubbing together as you walk. Such as yourself, skirts are surely a weakness of his.

“She’s a senior, right?” he murmurs, half-jokingly.

“Stop it,” Yunho promptly elbows San in the arm, earning a stifled laugh from Seonghwa.

Yunho has heard stories about San’s slight affinity with the pretty college women when he goes out to bars on the weekends. Nobody from his own classes, of course. Needless to say, Yunho would not let him even think about you that way. No way in hell.

“I was just asking, Jesus.”

Seonghwa stretches his limbs from his chair, “It’s never ‘just asking’ with you.”

“You buy a table of women drinks one time and your friends never let you hear the end of it,” he groans with a roll of his eyes, “God you guys are the worst.”

“Yeah, sure, that’s what it is,” Seonghwa concedes sarcastically.

“Just don’t make any unannounced visits to my classroom anytime soon, you buffoon,” Yunho chastises him while pressing his cup to his lips, “And I’m serious.”

“You got that,” San yields, “Wouldn’t wanna be a cock-block.”

Yunho nearly spits his coffee, “I beg your pardon?”

San nearly doubles over in laughter and, to Yunho’s surprise, Seonghwa has joined in. He doesn’t particularly enjoy the look they’re sharing and it makes the back of his neck burn with heat. Yunho doesn’t know why he’s so embarrassed but he steers the conversation away from discussing you any further. He ignores the feeling of indignation and possessiveness pooling in the pit of his stomach.

It doesn’t take long for you to decide you’ve done what needed to be done outside of the classroom; the cherry on top now was simply to get him alone more privately.

You didn’t have to try very hard for this to happen; your work on your paper outline was already sub-par at best. You did fairly well on the quizzes and packets he passed out once a week, but that final paper preparation was surely going to be a challenge. When you find enough courage in yourself to email him about seeing him during his office hours for extra academic help on formatting your paper and choosing a more concise topic, he replies quickly and enthusiastically. According to your syllabus, the topic should relate to what you’re studying for your degree, but the real meat and potatoes of the paper should incorporate an aspect of linguistics in relation to your career path. Yunho understands how something like this can be difficult to tackle, so he assures you not to worry and that you both will work on perfecting it in no time.

“Mr. Jeong, do you mind if I text you instead? It’s more convenient for me than to email,” you end up asking him at the end of class on a Friday.

Yunho doesn’t mind this and he says so; he's put his phone number on the syllabus for situations like this. Moreover, he doesn’t think anything of it when he receives a text from you the morning of your first session telling him good morning and saying that you’re excited to finally get some guidance. You follow up by asking how he likes his coffee, and if he prefers muffins or donuts. Even after this indicator, he’s still surprised that you show up at his office right on time at 10 AM on Monday with two fresh cups of coffee and a couple of things from the campus bakery.

His office is fairly small, but not enough to feel uncomfortable. He’s decorated it to his liking though to make it feel a little more homely on the days he has to stay late for one reason or another. He watches you marvel at his space before you set down everything in your hands and relieve yourself of your backpack.

“Good morning!”

“Good morning ____, welcome in,” Yunho smiles. “You’re very punctual.”

“Of course, I meant what I said about being excited,” you tell him honestly, settling into the seat in front of his desk, “The right one is yours, by the way.”

Yunho timidly thanks you before sliding it closer to himself. He’s never had a student do something for him like this, then again he hasn’t been teaching that long to begin with. Regardless, he appreciates it and the gesture goes straight to his heart. He takes a sip to emphasize this.

“I’m all ready when you are,” you proclaim, clasping your hands together.

With that, he begins to look through his folders for your class number and finds the topic idea and outlines you’ve submitted previously. He doesn’t even have to look for your name specifically, you always tend to write his name and your class section in a particular way on the top of your work that is very appealing and oddly unique.

“You have really pretty handwriting,” Yunho murmurs out absentmindedly when he finds it. When he lifts his head to see your intrigued eyes gazing back at him, he clears his throat and adds, “Mine looks like chicken scratch so I’m always fascinated by others.”

“As long as it’s legible, that’s all that matters,” you hum with a smile, “And I can read yours just fine, so you’re fine.”

Yunho’s not sure why that mild compliment, something that should probably be insignificant, steals his words from him for a moment. Instead, he offers a hum in place of thanks while quickly taking another sip of his coffee. He glances at his notes before speaking again.

“Okay, so when I reviewed your work, it seems like you generally have a solid topic,” he begins, “It’s definitely something that can be a bit more concise, but it’s fine. The problem is that you’re trying to incorporate too much into the paper as a whole.”

You nod in understanding, so he takes a sip of coffee and continues.

“That’s good and bad, for a couple of reasons. It’s good that you’re being ambitious and trying to give lots of information. This shows me that you’re planning on doing a lot of research and you’re going to be very knowledgeable about your topic,” Yunho cocks his head, “If you set yourself up like this, though, your paper will end up being over twenty pages easily. And we both don’t want that, right?”

He gives you a knowing look, and you can’t help the candid snort you let out at his frankness, “Definitely not, oh God. I’m so sorry.”

“Precisely. So, let’s work on cutting some of these sections out and conjoining some of these bullet points in others. Sound good?” He holds out his hand with a grin as if to make it a deal, and you grant him a firm shake.

After a considerable amount of time figuring out which parts of your paper to chop without losing the vision, Yunho feels his limbs tighten from sitting too long. He’s been in this chair since 9 AM, so he asks, “Can we take a quick break? I need to stretch a bit.”

“Of course!”

When he stands to full height and stretches his arms, your eyes inconspicuously survey the way the edge of the desk lines up right with his pelvis. Perfect height for extracurricular activities… You wonder if he’s the type of guy to be open to something like that, fucking his lover in his office. Surely this thing is sturdy enough to withstand it, you muse. The thought of him bending you over the desk just to prove how sturdy it is makes you rub your thighs together. You decide to chug the rest of your now-cold coffee to get your brain back on track. Yunho collapses back into his office chair gently and lets you know he’s ready to resume. The rest of the time is spent setting up a list of some things you could tweak when you go home on your own and prepare for him to view in a couple of days.

On Wednesday, for your second meeting, you both convene at his office directly after your class with him in the afternoon. You smell especially good today, a mix of jasmine, vanilla, and something else he can’t put his tongue on… but it’s got Yunho’s head a bit foggy. Still, the meeting is engaging and brimming with useful help just as the last. Leaning back in his chair, he takes a brief moment to review a printout of what you’ve implemented into your outline from your last meeting discussions. It’s definitely already an improvement, but there are still a few things that could be tweaked in terms of sectioning. He grabs his favorite pen and lays your papers out in front of you, leaning forward to mark things you should be mindful of. A circle here, a quick jotted note there—his soothing voice explains each eagerly, and you can tell just how much he loves this subject by his enthusiasm. You reply to all of his criticism and suggestions with just as much enthusiasm. Yunho finds himself leaning in a little closer than might be suitable for the circumstances, but his brain is still ensnared by your perfume. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing, truthfully, but it doesn’t bother you a bit. In fact, you’re a little too enamored with watching his large hands grip his pen and flex while writing to notice he’s calling your name.

“____?” he calls for a second time, to which you finally meet his gaze while blinking bashfully. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry, I think I spaced out for a second,” you answer honestly. He is absolutely too close to you right now and the way you can see the details in his eyes is making your brain short-circuit. He finally sits back in his chair and chuckles warmly.

“We have been working for quite a while today, I’m sure it’s a lot of information. Maybe we should wrap up for the day and meet again next week? I’m a bit tied up on Friday,” he ponders. You can’t help the hint of disappointment that makes its way onto your face, and he notices. There’s this unusual feeling in his chest right now; why does he feel regret for his stupid schedule? He leans forward on his elbows and cocks his head, “You’re doing very well, you know that? We’ve made a lot of progress after only a couple of meetings. I’m very excited to see how this comes together at the end of the semester.”

“I’m very self-conscious about my writing, so I appreciate that, Mr. Jeong,” you confess with a sheepish smile.

“You have nothing to be stressed about, I love what I’ve seen so far,” he continues his praise, “And I’m very happy you’re in my class, ____.”

The smile he gives you after such a statement manifests dozens of butterflies in your stomach, and you can’t help but match it. These one-on-one sessions go on 2-3 days a week for about two more weeks, loosening him up to you. He successfully becomes much more casual and unfiltered in your presence before you decide to up the ante. The following Tuesday of the next week, you remain on campus fairly late after classes end for the day, seated on a bench near the parking lot you both share. It’s warm outside even with the sun gradually setting, and you spend the time mentally rehearsing exactly what you planned on saying when he arrives to leave for home. He should be here any minute now–

“_____?”

You spin around at the familiar voice calling out your name. It’s him, of course, coming from the staff meeting you found out was being held this evening. Finally , you think. He stops just short of where you’re perched on the bench.

“Oh, hello Mr. Jeong.”

“What are you doing out here so late?” He inquires quickly, and there’s a tinge of concern laced in his voice. However, he realizes that asking this might be out of the realm of things he should know, you’re a grown woman after all. So, he follows up with an excuse, “It’s getting pretty dark out.”

“It’s a bit embarrassing,” you mutter, glancing away from his gaze.

Yunho can’t deny, he’s a bit mesmerized by the way you look tonight. He’s never seen you with your make-up done up like this, or your hair styled so charmingly. When you glance back at him again with those long, fluttering lashes of yours, he feels the back of his neck turn hot.

“You can tell me anything, you already know,” he reminds you, “I won’t judge and I’m always available to listen.”

“Well… I have a reservation for dinner with someone at six… but it seems they stood me up,” you reveal while mindlessly fiddling with a frayed string on the skirt of your dress. Yunho glances down at his watch: it’s 5:48 PM. “They were supposed to pick me up a while ago. I was trying to hold out some hope, but… I’m just being stupid.”

Yunho furrows his brows; why would someone stand a girl like you up? You’re beautiful and exceptionally smart (despite any kind of trouble you may have had with your paper). You’re also one of the sweetest people he’s ever crossed paths with in life. Many of those paths having been crossed within the last month, of course. Still, he can’t fathom it.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, ____,” he tells you truthfully. Then, he thinks about how your car isn’t here, and how the shuttle won’t be around until 6:30 PM. He’s slightly apprehensive before offering, “Do you want a ride home?”

You give him a winsome smile that pierces into his heart with an invisible arrow, “You don’t have to do that. I appreciate the offer though.”

“No, really, I don’t mind at all,” he says with more confidence. The idea of him being your knight in shining armor, buried deep in the back of his head, is shouting at him. That’s when you decide it’s time to take your shot, for better or worse.

“Well, in that case, would you like to accompany me to the restaurant instead?” you inquire, glancing up at him curiously. “I already paid for the spot, so I wouldn’t want the reservation to go to waste.”

Normally, you’d follow up a statement like that with a: “But it’s okay if not.”  

Not tonight.

You didn’t want to give him an out to this proposal willingly. You can see the mild indecisiveness in his face anyway, all the way down to how Yunho’s hand tightens around the handle of his briefcase. You did get all dolled up for whoever you were supposed to be spending the evening with, and he’ll feel awfully bad letting you go back home to take it all off for no reason. It’s just a dinner, he tells himself.

“Sure,” Yunho finally says in an exhale, “Let me pull around my car.”

While he walks off into the parking lot towards his car, you bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop the dishonest smile that’s threatening to spread across your face. Was it all a bald-faced lie? Of course it was! But, sometimes it takes some white lies to get to what you want, and what you wanted was no longer that far out of reach if tonight was anything to go by.

When he finally pulls around to pick you up, you allow yourself to slip into the mode you usually go to on dates. It doesn’t hurt to pretend tonight, it’s like manifesting your reality. You thrum your fingers against your bare thighs, to no particular beat, while staring out of the car window at other passing cars during your brief trip on the highway.

“Is this a restaurant you’ve been to before? It looked really nice online,” Yunho eventually says into the silence, trying to make small talk. He had briefly skimmed the reviews while plugging the address in on his phone.

“I haven’t, actually,” you divulge, going further, “I’m a bit of a foodie, you know? I like to try new places occasionally.”

That conversation flows smoothly for the rest of the drive, and even smoother when you both are seated and eating dinner in a booth towards the back of the restaurant. It’s nice to see him in a more relaxed setting.

“Thank you for joining me tonight, Mr. Jeong.” You offer him some well-deserved gratitude as you wipe your mouth, signaling the end of your eating. “Makes things a lot less embarrassing tonight for sure.”

“No need to thank me, I enjoyed your company,” he smiles. He doesn’t even hesitate this time before adding, “That bastard doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

The bubbly laugh and adorable smile you grant him the experience of witnessing enraptures him, the tips of his ears burning at the thought of how he wants to be able to produce that from you again and again. Yunho hasn’t been on a date in a while, so he’s sure this feeling is just because he’s attention-deprived. Still, it’s something he notes mentally. And, even though some might consider it inappropriate, you and your teacher both began having dinner occasionally, just like that. Platonically, of course.

  “We can go over my questions for my paper topic here rather than in that cramped office of yours, you know?”  

Surprisingly when you proposed this, he showed little resistance to the idea. Yunho enjoyed getting out of the house for the evenings he usually spent alone with a few beers and a Netflix series. He enjoyed having a pretty girl keep him company even more. He reminds himself every time he picks you up, though, that this is simply work and nothing more. Just some overtime—helping a student who enjoyed his class get better at the material. It’s not meant to be enjoyable.

But after the first few times of these “informational paper related” meetings, conversations involving anything to do with linguistics slowly molded into Yunho placing a nimble finger to his lips to say a silent shhh, followed by, “Let’s not talk about schoolwork tonight, okay?”

That moment, when you noticed that slight shift in Yunho’s energy, the atmosphere from there turned more informal. You become more conscious of those important invisible lines between student and teacher— or even more teacher and friend— that have begun to blur significantly. “Good evening Mr. Jeong,” became, “Le’me taste your food, Yunho?”

To which he never declines, naturally.

Tonight, on the 5th dinner, the climate between you both plows further into the downward spiral of informality, warm and fairly flirtatious. At least, that’s what you surmise by the way he keeps openly teasing you this evening. It’s all innocuous banter, but that doesn’t quell the adoration you hold for him in the pit of your stomach. It’s enough to make your thighs clench together underneath the table. You finally decide to shamelessly reciprocate, teasing him about the way his hair is going every which way tonight. You emphasize how the style is still very handsome despite him looking like he’s been through hell and back.

“I was having a pretty bad day today until I remembered where I was going tonight actually,” Yunho divulges, pushing the wrinkly sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. He truly has been through hell and back today, between snooty older teachers and idiot freshmen both treating him like he’s a student just because of his age, “These kinds of nights with you always make my day, so it’s been saved.”

A playful smile tugs at your lips as you cock your head, “Is it the food or is it the company?”

He leans forward on his forearms with a prepossessing smile, one that makes your heart thump loudly in your ears.

“Both, of course,” he teases again, “I suppose the food is just a bonus, though.”

He takes notice of the way your cheeks are dusted in crimson as you shyly avert your eyes and locks that innocent image into a deep chamber of his mind along with all the others. He practically has a photo album saved mentally. It’s not too long until the food comes, and things become all about eating. A fair amount of time into your dinner, you decide to add a new element to your dynamic.

“Do you mind if I drink a little tonight?” you inquire quietly while your eyes skim the wine menu briefly. Not like you were going to care about his answer, but it was simply fun to ask. He chuckles.

“You’re an adult,” he points out instead. You smile to yourself before meeting his eyes from behind the menu. There’s something especially curious tonight behind those dark irises of his. The unfamiliar stare he gives you from behind his bangs is accompanied by a subtle smirk that makes your stomach tie into tight knots.

You turn away your eyes until you’re able to catch the attention of your waiter once more. In the process of requesting a glass of some Cabernet Sauvignon, you hesitate before saying the name of which brand because of the price tag for one glass, but most risks are pricey and tonight you felt like splurging for the reward in return: releasing your inhibitions. The waiter turns towards Yunho to confirm if he’d like to add anything before he leaves.

“Bring a bottle of that instead, please. We’ll share,” he requests alternatively. It takes all of your strength not to look at him like he’s crazy as the waiter nods and heads off to fetch it.

“It’s on me tonight,” Yunho beats you to the punch on declaring anything about his decisions.

“You don’t even know the price of it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he quips back with a chuckle, “Are you suggesting I can’t afford it?”

“Yunho…”

“Don’t even give me that, ____.”

The way he blithely says your first name with a different warmth now always causes your heart to swell in your chest. All formality is truly gone between you two. You both share matching smiles in place of any further words about the matter.

When the waiter returns briefly with a freshly opened bottle of wine and two glasses, you both offer him words of gratitude before he slips away once more. Yunho wastes no time pouring you both a proper amount, sighing contently when finished. You lift your glass towards him and grin once more, “Cheers?”

“Cheers.”

Yunho surely got his money’s worth, because the bottle is gone between you both quickly, signaling the end of your dinner as well. You don’t feel the few glasses fully set in until Yunho is helping you out of the booth, your legs feeling akin to a newborn baby deer as you bashfully stumble into his arms. You suppose your food wasn’t as carb-heavy as usual tonight. You’re not drunk, but surely you’re not sober either. He doesn’t mind holding you steady on the way out of the restaurant, a guiding hand timidly pressed to the small of your back.

As much as you despise the thought of driving under the influence, it’s pouring an insane amount of rain upon exit of the restaurant and Yunho insists he’s fine enough to drive. The dilemma that arises is how your place is further than he has confidence in making it to in this storm while inebriated. You know just as well as he does that there’s no way he’s driving you home tonight.

“I have a spare bedroom,” he begins, and glances over at you, hoping you understand what he means because he’s not sober enough to come up with the words to ask you otherwise. The pouring water is making it hard for him to keep his eyes open but he doesn’t miss the feigning look of indecision in your eyes. He tries to ignore the way the rain has soaked through your dress enough to make it plaster your body. It accentuates every contour of your figure, from the rounds of your breasts down to your supple thighs. When the boom of thunder somewhere far off fills the silence after his proposal faster than you do, he panics slightly.

“I can get you an Uber if—”

“You already paid for an expensive bottle tonight, don’t waste more money on an Uber,” you grasp onto his arm fondly, sopping breasts squished into his bicep. Your lips curl into a soft smile at his attempt at chivalry though, “I’ll be fine. Let’s hurry though, okay? I’m cold.”

That statement is followed by a sharp shiver running down your back, and that’s enough for him to drag you along with him to his car with quick, but careful, steps.

Surprisingly, Yunho lives in a townhouse. You’re very thankful not to have to walk up the stairs of a condo. He thanks God there’s an empty parking space in front of his house, he hates when the tiny lot fills up before he gets home. You both prepare yourselves before rushing out of the car and to his front door.

Your hazy eyes train themselves on his pretty, slender fingers fiddling with the doorknob before he finally gets it open. Those same fingers grab your hand and pull you through his front door with him mindlessly. Another chill immediately runs down your spine at the cool AC blasting through his home, which he immediately runs off to turn down.

“Both bedrooms have bathrooms with showers,” Yunho sputters while quickly heading off to find you a towel and some spare clothes for which you could sleep in.

While you’re still peeling your drenched shoes and socks off, he settles on a fresh t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants since it’s still a bit chilly in the house. You try not to track too much water through his home while you journey through his living room and meet him halfway.

“I’ll shower in the guest room,” you tell him, taking the items.

He runs an anxious hand through the wet hair sticking to his forehead, “I can also dry your clothes if you leave them on the bed.”

“Fuck, that’s great,” you sigh with a smile, stepping past him but cocking your head back to add, “Wait about five minutes before you come grab them, I should be in the shower by then.”

Just as you requested, Yunho comes into the room a little over five minutes later when he hears the shower running. His eyes confirm that the bathroom door is closed for your privacy before grabbing your wet clothes and retreating to his laundry room down the hall. He chucks them all in his dryer and runs it on medium heat and maximum dryness. While that’s running, he busies himself with running to his bedroom and speedrunning his shower to ensure he’s out before you. He’s a man on a mission, pulling on clothes and towel-drying his hair before rushing to the laundry room to get your clothes.

Yunho pulls your garments from the dryer one by one, making sure there’s nothing left wet. He stops when he pulls something out that catches his eyes. Your underwear. He’s quite enticed by them, even if they were pastel pink with turtles... Hot, he thinks sarcastically. Yunho eyes the crotch curiously and remembers that technically he didn’t wash your clothes at all. It’s been a while since he’s had a girl over his home and that, on top of the thought of even holding your underwear, is taking a small toll on him. He gives in and puts them to his nose, breathing in deeply.

Oh God … Even after they've been soaked in rain, your scent is still heavy on the fabric. He groans, why did you have to smell so fucking good? He remembers that you are quite literally right down the hall while he's here sniffing your underwear like a pervert. It’s your fault, right? Yeah, it’s your fault for trusting him with such a sensitive piece of clothing by himself. It’s your fault for smelling so good and looking so pretty and—

He gives up on rationalizing it and presses the clothing fully onto his face again, inhaling heavily and feeling himself grow harder and harder by the second. His arousal grows worse and worse, precum dampening his underwear with every deep inhale and fluttering thought of what you probably taste like… He finds his hand mindlessly palming himself, and luckily his groans are muffled by the underwear bunched up in his face. That’s when he hears the water shut off.

Yunho whispers a handful of obscenities as he hurries to the room to place your dried clothes on the bed while you’re still in the bathroom, closing the door behind him softly. He’s long gone by the time you step out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

Normally, you’d stay in the shower until your fingertips are pruney, but you suppose being a good guest includes not using up all of his hot water. There were more pressing things to attend to anyway, like the tall attractive man patiently awaiting your presence outside of this room. So, when you tug on your now dry panties and his previously provided clothing, you quickly make your way out of the room and to the living room. You’re not exactly sure what you expected upon seeing him, but he’s indeed still exceptionally handsome freshly out of the shower. Those same curious eyes gaze at you behind his shaggy bangs, still in the process of drying. Clad in a simple white t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts, his biceps and strong thighs are fully on display as he lounges on the couch. The way his long legs are man-spread now that he’s comfortable in his own abode makes you swallow a little harder than usual. Still, you meander over and sit on the other side of the couch, not too far away.

“Your place is very nice,” you state absentmindedly, glancing around at the walls of his home. “Very fit for a bachelor.”

Without you noticing, Yunho’s eyes skillfully study the way you’re so casually in his clothing. You’re too busy glancing around at unnecessary things anyway; he wonders if you’re rambling about his decor because you’re nervous. He’s nervous too, but not for the right reasons. Regardless, seeing you in his clothing is taking an additional toll on his mental health. How did you both end up in this situation together… This is wrong, he thinks. He shakes his head to try and clear those corrupted thoughts from his mind. It isn’t until you realize he hasn’t replied to anything in a couple of minutes of you jabbering that you finally peer over at him. His eyes are trained on the short distance between the both of you, mindlessly chewing on the nail of his thumb.

“You okay?” you ask, finally catching his attention.

He nods hastily, “Definitely. Sorry, it’s been a long day. Mind is on empty.”

“You’re fine, no worries.”

It’s uncomfortably quiet for a moment as you both exchange stares. You’re seconds away from breaking the silence before Yunho steals the chance.

“I’m sure you’re tired, so we can head to bed,” he suddenly exhales, hands clasping his thighs, “The guest room is all yours for as long as you need it.”

You take the chance and lean forward toward him on your palms at this statement, slightly sinking into the couch while you gaze at him, “Is that what you really want, Yunho?”

There’s now an even longer moment of silence where you both stare each other in the eyes again and the room is unbearably quiet. Yunho finally breaks it after his Adam’s apple bobs uneasily.

“Of course,” he awkwardly chuckles with furrowed brows, “What do you mean, ____?”

Your heart deflates. For a second, you wonder if maybe you’ve been reading his body language incorrectly the entire night. There’s a flare of embarrassment that ignites on your cheeks as you immediately retract yourself.

“I suck at making jokes,” you match his chuckle nervously, “Don’t mind me.” He cocks his head at you curiously and you stand to your feet before he can catch the way your face is lighting on fire with every passing second. You avoid looking at him as you begin striding back to the guest room, “Goodnight Yunho, see you in the morning!”

Yunho is left alone to his own devices once he hears the sound of the door to the guest room closing down the hall. Sitting alone on a large bed in your teacher’s home feels surreal, and all too disappointing the same. You press your palms to your eyes to try and settle the embarrassment that keeps washing over you every time you think back to your impromptu attempt at making an advance toward him. God this fucking sucks…

After a few minutes of setting up some alarms on your phone for the next morning, you decide you need to go get some water and wash away tonight from your mind forever. Yunho Jeong doesn’t like you more than a friend, it’s time to accept your fate and that you failed at attracting him. To be fair, it all was a shot in the dark to begin with. You try not to be too hard on yourself and hope that he’s already in his room by now.

But, if that’s all truly the case, then why is Yunho standing in front of the guest room door when you open it? His arm is positioned as if he was about to knock. Yunho had been standing there for quite some minutes, debating his next actions in his head, overthinking as usual. Though, could it be considered overthinking if the consequences of his actions could lead to delinquency? Had you not opened the door to go get water, albeit unknowingly, he probably would’ve psyched himself out.

“Oh– Did you need something?” you mumble and look up inquisitively at him. His mouth lingers open for a few seconds before he learns how to speak again.

“Can we talk?”

“Of course.” You can’t help the hint of confusion gracing your face as you step aside and allow him inside the room, “Is everything okay?”

When you close the door and face him, he looks distraught. Everything was indeed not okay.

“Are you still drunk?” He asks first.

“I don’t really think I was ever drunk,” you tell him, “But no.”

“Neither am I.”

At first, it doesn’t click about why he’s confirming this. You also don’t notice the way he gradually takes tentative steps forward—or the way you’re equally taking steps back—until your back hits the bedroom door. He’s so close that you can smell the minty mouthwash still fresh on his breath unfurling over your face. Still, he looks hesitant about his actions.

“I’m sorry, I was just… nervous before,” he swallows. He watches your face shift from confusion to realization; he’s referring to his response when you shot your shot. You relax against the door.

“About?” Is all you can ask in a soft voice, left hand daringly reaching up and cupping his cheek.

“About drunken words,” he continues, his voice just above a whisper. You can see the stutter of his heart against his chest. “And my feelings.”

Your thumb brushes his bottom lip, “What are you feeling, Yunho?”

In a moment of fleeting courage, he gently grabs your right hand and leads it to settle below his groin, pressing it against him a bit for good measure.

“What does it feel like I’m feeling to you?”

Your cheeks heat up at the feeling of him in your palm; you didn’t expect him to be so forward about it out of nowhere. The overall anticipation of the situation is killing you, even though everything feels like it’s moving too slowly and too fast all at the same time. All of your effort was leading to this point and yet, somehow, you still don’t feel nearly as prepared as you thought you were to finally fuck him, to finally fuck your teacher. That doesn’t stop your cunt from clenching around nothing at all at his words alone, because this is definitely what you’ve wanted so badly for weeks.

You try to swallow even though your throat feels parched, mindlessly whispering, “Oh my God…”

Then, you give him an experimental squeeze which has his eyelids fluttering closed, and a deep grunt leaving his flared nostrils.

“Fuck …” he groans. It’s too natural, the way you subconsciously run your hand up and down the bulge, feeling it harden even further. Yunho is at his wit's end. “I need you to tell me exactly what you want ____,” he reminds you.

You get it, he’s covering his bases because of his relation to you outside of this bedroom. Consent is sexy regardless, so you grant that to him.

“I really, really want you to fuck me Yunho,” you purr as your hands creep up his chest until you can wrap your arms around his neck, “And I think you want the same, right?”

Yunho’s hands sneak under the t-shirt on you and he massages the flesh of your sides, fingertips ghosting up your skin until they reach your breasts. His thumbs brushing against your hard nipples involuntarily make you whimper his name, and this is all Yunho needs to hear to proceed without such caution. The moment he leans down and smashes his lips to yours, time stops.

It’s nasty, the way your tongues are dragging against each other, spreading trails of saliva everywhere.

It’s nasty, the way he can’t help but drag that same tongue down your neck, sullying your freshly washed skin with spit.

It’s even nastier, the way he moans out your name, shamelessly grinding his clothed boner into your crotch, searching for friction because he’s touch-starved.

“A-Ah—wait! Bed, please,” you let out a broken moan at the way he sucks and bites on your neck. Yunho grunts in agreement, spinning you around and forcefully guiding you back until you both reach the bed. You can’t help but giggle when you fall back on the mattress— he’s so hungry for it, for you. And you’re more than ready to give it to him.

“Can I take them off?” He still asks like a gentleman, though his fingers are impatiently already tugging at the bottom of your sweatpants. You nod with fervor.

The moment he tosses them away, the situation begins to feel a bit more real to you both. Maybe it’s because you’re sopping wet and semi-exposed, and he’s not, so you become bashful and self-conscious.

“Take yours off too?”

Yunho doesn’t hesitate to oblige you. He peels off his shirt and shoves his shorts away easily. There’s a brief second where he hesitates before also pulling his boxer briefs down and finally fully exposing himself to you in all his nude glory. Yunho hasn’t slept with a woman in a while, but he’s never had complaints about anything, and especially not his size. He can tell by how your eyes are drinking him in, that you won’t have any either.

“You’re so handsome, you know that?” you murmur, eyes hazy as they rake over him from his broad chest to his defined abs, then his defined hips to his heavy cock. There’s a cute hue of pink dusting his cheeks at the compliment.

Yunho doesn’t give you a chance to stare at him very much longer before he’s finally ridding you of your shirt, lips meeting yours again the moment it’s tossed. It’s not long before that naughty mouth of his indulges in your breasts, licking and sucking on your hardened nipples like they’re the only thing that will keep him grounded to earth. You’re a moaning mess underneath of him, hands carding through his tresses and lips struggling with telling him how much you love his mouth. He could suck on your beautiful breasts all day but there are more pressing matters at this time.

His eyes never leave yours as he kisses all the way down the expanse of your stomach to the waistband of your panties. Only then does he close his eyes to bury his face in your clothed cunt and take a deep breath, filling his lungs until they feel like they're about to burst. He’s so content that now he can do it knowing the real thing is right underneath. It gets him hard all the same as the laundry room. You watch him grind himself into the mattress for some relief just at the smell of you.

“I’ve never done something like this before,” he divulges, pressing heated kisses into the skin of your sensitive thighs.

“What, eating pussy?” you tease to ease his nerves. He stares pointedly at you from behind your mound.

“You know what I mean.”

Your hand reaches down to find a comforting purchase in his hair, “Neither have I, Yu.”

Yunho can feel himself falling apart faster and faster, and the nickname is not helping him keep it together at all. He hooks his fingers in your panties and gently tugs them down your legs, joining the rest of the discarded clothing on the floor. Your cheeks tingle with heat when his hands spread your legs wider, eyes seemingly mesmerized.

“Such a pretty pussy…” he whispers, marveling at the way your sticky lips tremble when you clench around nothing.

He solves that by pushing in two of those pretty fingers of his, all the way down to the last knuckles. The desperate moan that flies from your lips sends him into a depraved headspace. He immediately latches his mouth onto your throbbing clit and sets to work, thrusting into your squelching squeezing heat and sucking to his heart’s content. Yunho loves eating pussy, truly. There’s something truly cathartic to him about holding a woman’s legs down while she twitches and grinds against his face as he’s slurping up every bit of essence that seeps from her greedy hole. He even removes his fingers and opts for lapping at your heat like a starved man instead. Up and down, left and right… His tongue leaves no inch of your heat untouched. He loves the feeling of your slick coating his face when he pushes his tongue as deep as he can into your hole. He feels your hands yank him by his hair before he can even get to the fun part. He gazes up at you in confusion, mouth messy and eyes indubitably pussy-drunk.

“Please,” you beg, chest heaving, “I want you inside.”

Yunho licks his lips clean before crawling back up your body to fulfill your request. You’re right honestly, there’s only so much grinding he can do into the mattress to ease the ache of his hard cock. He leans over to grab a condom from the nightstand but you pull him back over, mumbling about how you’re on the pill and that it’s fine.

He’s so big, the way he’s engulfing your whole body with you caged between his arms like this. Gazing into your eyes, he drags the blunt tip of his cock back and forth through your dripping folds, occasionally pressing it hard against that clit that he’s taken such a liking to sucking on.

“Hey,” you mumble against his lips, catching the full attention of his blown-out irises. “I can tell you’re nervous. Just relax and lose control, for me. Okay?”

Yunho’s last rope of restraint snaps.

The moment you feel his tip finally breach your entrance, you squeeze your eyes shut and mewl at the feeling of his thick cock sliding into its rightful place. Yes, obviously he’s meant just for your cunt, because you fit like a glove when you're swallowing him in so badly the deeper he pushes. He doesn’t stop until he’s buried to the hilt, despite your squirming and twitching underneath him at the feeling of being so full.  

“I’m about to move,” he pants, adjusting to the feeling of your warm walls squeezing his cock, “Holy fuck.”

When you nod, he finally lets go of his inhibitions. He begins to roll his hips at a nice steady pace, large hands clasped to the backs of your thighs as he pushes them towards your torso. His mouth hangs open in ecstasy and his eyelids lower lazily at the way your walls suck in his cock so tightly and squeeze it like they’re begging to be filled to the brim. You reach up and latch onto his arms to ground yourself, head dizzy and overwhelmed at the feeling of him starting to snap his hips just a little faster now that you’re stretched out a bit more to accommodate him.

“Yunho, fuck, you’re so big,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. Yunho grinds his pelvis into you at this remark, rubbing against your clit with his happy trail.

“And you’re taking me so well,” Yunho praises with a lopsided grin, “Feels good?”

“So fucking good.”

Yunho pushes your legs back even further as he leans in to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss. You’re so pretty with those glassy eyes and those flushed cheeks of yours, but there’s something about that that quivering bottom lip that makes him want to suck every sound from you himself. He finds himself bucking faster and faster, unable to maintain any kind of self-control.

He breaks away to catch his breath, eyes lazy as he groans, “Let me hear you. This is what you wanted, yeah?”

“Mhm, yes, yes,” you whine desperately, “I wanted it so bad. Wanted you so bad.”

You grant him a flurry of shameless bitten-off moans, egging him on further and further. Yunho buries his face into the crook of your neck, making your skin damp between his own warm gasps and grunting obscenities. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this aroused before; yes, he’s so painfully hard at the fleeting thoughts of how inappropriate everything is. He’s your linguistics teacher—he’s not supposed to be teaching your cunt how to mold to the shape of his cock. He’s not supposed to be massaging your clit and babbling nonsense about how he’s going to lick your pussy clean when you cum. How can he say that to a student? However, his eyes roll back at that thought.

“I’m going crazy,” he groans into your skin, mindlessly speaking his thoughts aloud. “I’m so close.”

You’d say the same if you could, but your mouth can’t form proper words with the way his long fingers are rubbing quick messy circles around your clit. Instead, you put your mouth on the shell of his ear and say his name in a filthy mewl. Your legs tense up and your toes curl; Yunho can feel you cum around his cock a beat later, encouraging your convulsing and whimpering. He can only manage to give you a few more rough thrusts before he pulls himself out and allows himself to empty his balls in quick spurts all over your torso, a mix of “fuck” and “____” leaking from his mouth at how filthy the action is, dirtying you like this. He’s a man of his word though, quickly hefting himself back down to your sopping cunt and diving face first to taste everything he missed tasting earlier. The groan of pure bliss he lets out into your sensitive cunt has you squirming away, much to his dismay. But he finds himself chuckling anyway—he got to taste your cum and, even if it was for only a few seconds, he’s satisfied.

Cleaning up and cuddling after is far from awkward, Yunho feels comfortable with his arms wrapped around you and head on your chest. You find yourself mindlessly scratching his scalp and playing with his messy hair, while his large hands massage the muscles of your thighs. It’s immensely intimate, and this scares Yunho deep inside. Unbeknownst to his stress, you’re settling into a mental state of bliss; you can’t wait to see where this night leads you after, even if it might be a little awkward back in the classroom at first. He tries not to dwell on such thoughts for too long, eventually falling asleep under your touch.

Yunho wakes up to a cold, empty bed. Glancing over at the clock on his nightstand, he catches some time he can’t be bothered with reading fully, nine-something-in-the-morning. He groans internally at the bittersweet arrival of the morning. After a few seconds of just lying there, bleary eyes staring at anything and everything, he remembers that he’s not supposed to be alone right now. The grimace that crosses his face is heavy.

He lugs himself up and out of bed to find his phone, which he’s left God knows where. After a bit of searching, he’s even more upset to see a lack of text from you about leaving. Leaving with no word after sex… Yunho has been in this position before and it makes him feel like shit. It feels even worse considering that this is not just some random woman, you are his student. He’s a chronic overthinker, he knows he is. Yet, he can’t stop his mind from filling with a plethora of miserable thoughts about what this could mean.

Did you simply want to fuck him and nothing more?

Did you regret sleeping with him and want to leave without confrontation?

Did you sleep with him to then leave and tell someone, maybe to humiliate him?

All of these thoughts scream at Yunho until he finds himself clenching his jaw, and tears are pricking at his eyes. He hates this feeling every time it happens; it makes him feel like he’s not good enough. In a moment of brief irrationality, Yunho debates if he should outright block you.

He’s impulsive like that when he’s worked up. However, after a few minutes of begging himself to calm down, he tossed his phone away and went on to make a cup of tea to ease his agitation. He knew this was a mistake from the start and he still did it.

He doesn’t get a text from you until after 11 AM.

  [Y/N: sorry for leaving without saying anything!! I forgot I had prior commitments this morning, didn’t wanna text you until I was sure you’d be up. hope you slept well :)]

Yunho doesn’t know what to think. Prior commitments? Surely this would’ve been something you would’ve mentioned before he drove you to his home last night. It is Saturday though, so it’s plausible. He opens the message and leaves you on read instead.

Earlier this morning, you were certain Yunho must have completely tired himself out after sleeping with you because he failed to wake up when your alarms went off. You make a mental note that it only takes him cumming once to make him go comatose (and maybe a little wine to boot). You had left his place with no ill intentions, and your message was truthful. So, when you get left on read by him, it ignites a small flame of insecurity in you. You’re never one to double-text a man, but considering this is something you put a great amount of effort into getting to happen, you put your pride aside when you don't get a reply by the next day.

  [Y/N: Wondering if you want to try a new restaurant after work tomorrow… Let me know if you’re interested!]

To your surprise, Yunho replies that he’s too busy. He doesn’t offer to reschedule for a better day, which isn’t like him. Instead of taking it too seriously and replying something disheartened, you let him know that you understand and to let you know if anything changes. He opens this message and doesn’t reply. You try again on Tuesday. This time, your inquiry is more succinct, no fluff.

  [Y/N: Are you free Wednesday?]

He answers this similarly to the last attempt, maintaining that he’s too busy to see you that day as well. However, this text is more curt than the last. When you cave in and ask him which days he’s not busy, he leaves you on read, again.

  [Y/N: Do you have a free moment to talk then?]

Yunho doesn’t open this text altogether, and the disgruntlement this stirs within you lingers in your system all day, even when you decide to go out with your friends to clear your mind.

Throughout his class with you the following day, you endure Yunho’s eyes practically boring into you at various points in time. It’s like an itch that can’t be scratched, nagging at your scalp while you keep your head downcast towards your laptop. Thoroughly, as distractions do, it keeps you on edge and unfocused throughout the whole lecture. It doesn’t help that Yeosang is out today, so you feel alone even surrounded by so many people.

At some point, during a quiet moment of everyone completing an individual assignment he had handed out, you glance up over the screen of your laptop and catch his attentive eyes gazing back. He gnaws on the nail of this thumb as he usually does when his brain is on overdrive, his eyes calmly lingering on the fixation of all his thoughts. Eventually, he turns them away and decides to focus on something else irrelevant involving his phone. Anything to take you off of his mind.

You quietly snicker to yourself and roll your eyes. So, he can play on his phone just fine during class but can’t find the time to text you and talk? Men will be men… If he just wanted to sleep with you and leave at that, he could at least tell you, you brood. You try not to let it get to you, but it’s hard to focus on anything for the last half hour of class. You don’t bother sticking around after and instead, preoccupy yourself by striking up a conversation with another acquaintance on the way out of the doors. Yunho notices the way you act like he doesn’t exist while leaving and it makes him a bit bitter. He knows it’s irrational, but you’ve really done a number on him, so he can’t help it.

On Thursday, you’re sick of the games altogether. Being the super sleuth you were at the beginning of this mess, you knew when Yunho typically went to his office in between classes to get grading done that he couldn’t do throughout the day. So, when you finish your mathematics class, you pack up your things quickly, knowing he should be roaming this same hall in very little time. There’s one thing–or person, you suppose–that you didn’t account for in this plan.

“You’re terrible at covering hickeys, you know,” Hongjoong chides, eyeing your messy job at applying makeup to your neck.

To be fair to yourself, you hadn’t realized Yunho had sucked one onto your skin the night you both slept together, and the dark blotch was too annoying to deal with every single day. You bruise too easily and they don’t go away fast enough. Admittedly, you had slacked off on the cover-up today. You chalk it up to secretly being in Fight Club, which you remind him, the number rule is to never talk about Fight Club! That, of course, was not a good enough reason for Hongjoong, and you regret that you didn’t acknowledge beforehand he would surely grill you endlessly about your recreational pastimes.

“Okay seriously, I just wore my choker too tight yesterday and it pinched my neck, that's all,” you explain as he quickly follows you out of the classroom. He squints at you with skeptical eyes, as if he is not believing any of the piping hot shit you’re serving him on a platter. Phase two was to gaze at him with winsome eyes, ones he was definitely familiar with. They always worked on Yeosang, but Hongjoong was harder to subdue.

“Don’t.”

“Joong, I’m telling you, there’s nothing more for me to answer here.”

You employ a small pout to boot.

“And you think I believe that?”

“I think you should believe it.”

He rolls his eyes in annoyance. Meanwhile, your eyes inconspicuously search for Yunho in the sea of classmates flooding the hallway; there was a very important conversation you had hyped yourself up to finally have with him. One that surely would not be done if it didn’t get done today, at this very moment. That would obviously fail to happen if Hongjoong kept pestering you with his concerns. Suddenly, your eyes spot the tail end of Yunho’s styled hair turning the corner and leaving the hallway. Goddammit!

“Joong, I really gotta go,” you say frantically and secure your backpack onto your back. His lips open slightly in puzzlement, but there’s nothing he can say before you’re already shoving people out of the way to make it through the hallway to follow him to his office.

You take the stairs while he takes the elevator to waste some time; hopefully, he'll be set up and comfortable by the time you get to his floor. When you make it to his office, he’s indeed already seated and filtering through sheets of work from students during the last class. You don’t bother knocking before entering; he hadn’t afforded you the comfort of manners lately, so neither would you.

Honestly, had anyone else burst into his office so unannounced like this, he might've cussed them out by accident. But before he can get any words out, you can see the physical shift from annoyance to puzzlement wash over his face as he realizes it’s you, then, genuine dread graces his face before downcasting his gaze.

“I need to talk to you,” you insist, “Now.”

He’s having a hard time even meeting your eyes when you’re speaking and it’s pissing you off tremendously.

“I’m a bit busy right now,” he sighs, now in the process of looking through his desk for a pen that works. “It’ll have to wait for another time.”

You ignore him entirely, “Why are you avoiding me, Yunho?”

“I’m not avoiding you,” Yunho quickly objects. “I’m just–”

“You’ve blown me off twice this week already,” you counter. “Now I can’t even come see you at your office?”

Yunho puts his head in his hands and tries to collect his thoughts. He’s too sensitive to handle this conversation with no preparation beforehand. Then again, the longer he keeps isolating, the longer he’s going to keep feeling like shit. He can hear the undertone of hurt in your words, but he’s only doing what’s best for you, right?

“The least you could do is give me a real reason,” you continue. He finally lifts his head and meets your frustrated eyes. “Just give me a real reason to and I’ll fuck-off all you want.”

“____, that night was a mistake,” he tells you simply. The look in his eyes says otherwise. You know he’s lying but it still feels like a punch in the gut.

“A mistake?”

“It’s something that shouldn’t have happened, and it was inappropriate of me to do that with you. Let’s just forget about it and move on, please.”

You furrow your brows in agitation, “You really feel that way?”

“I do,” he murmurs, eyes falling back to the papers in front of him. He visibly hesitates for the briefest moment before picking up his pen and resuming his grading. This feeling of rejection hurts a little more than usual. Why do you feel like a failure? Why do you feel like a fuck-up? Maybe it’s because of the effort you put into this man, unlike many others. You stand there in his doorway uncomfortably silent until you find it in yourself to offer some final words.

“We’re both adults, Yunho,” you remind him in a voice that airs on the more serious side of yourself. He’s never heard you sound such a way with him. “No one has to know what two grown adults do in their free time. And you don’t owe anyone any explanations.”

When he doesn’t look up from his paperwork anymore, you finally leave and gently close the door behind you.

Nearly a week after that day, your phone begins to ring while you’re out at a bar with friends. Yeosang’s nosy eyes catch the name on the screen and he gives you an incredulous look. His name still has a heart beside it and you haven’t updated him on anything regarding Yunho since telling him that you both were texting each other outside of class.

“What is he doing calling you at 9 PM, miss?” he teases as you move your phone to your lap, “Booty call?”

“Would you like to ask him yourself?” you snort.

“Boo, why can I never know anything–”

“Oh but when I mention the obvious hickey, I’m imagining things, huh?” Hongjoong interjects with narrowed eyes when he overhears you both bickering. “Who’s the mystery man?”

“It’s nobody,” both you and Yeosang say in unison.

Hongjoong quirks a brow at how you both are gazing at him with matching smiles, suspiciously. He lets it go quickly and instead butts into Mingi and his girlfriend’s conversation. By the time you glance at your phone, Yunho’s call has already gone fully unanswered. Subsequently, you chose not to return the call later when you’re done and home. You didn’t necessarily want to talk to someone who called such an intimate moment with you a mistake. And especially not intoxicated. If he wants to talk to me that bad, he’d just send whatever he needs to say in a text, you tell yourself. But, of course, those texts don’t come. Yunho doesn’t know how to express himself like that over message. However, after getting wasted, it takes everything within you not to text him first in a fit of overwhelming horniness. What’s the worst that could come from letting him know that you’re craving the feeling of that thick cock of his splitting you open, or how maybe this time you should test out your gag reflex? Yeosang knows you well enough to take your phone from you after a certain amount of shots, so you don’t get that opportunity anyway. God bless your best friend.

A couple of days later, you still find yourself unable to let things go. How can you when Yeosang brings it up any time you speak alone? For someone so sure you were making a huge mistake, he sure is desperate for the tea. It’s like he’s your frontline cheerleader (which he usually is anyway). If he found out you both fucked, surely he’d lose his mind.

“You can’t keep me in the dark, I’m still dying to know how much progress you’re making with Mr. Jeong after seeing him call you that night,” Yeosang pleads, “Have you both met up in private off of campus yet?”

“That’s classified info,” you state and try to stifle your subsequent laughter when you hear him grumble. You still hadn’t found it within yourself yet to tell him that your plan had failed. “You’ll know by if I pass this class or not.”

“Just a little hint, please? I’m on my knees.”

“Progress is being made, Yeo,” you disclose in a sing-song voice. Surely a little white lie wouldn’t hurt in the meantime, “He’s a very good conversationalist, you know. With that deep voice of his, and especially late at night.”

Yeosang groans in annoyance, “You’re killing me ____, I’m too curious! You didn’t entertain a single man at the bar, something juicy has to be happening.”

You debate on at least telling him about the extra study sessions you and Yunho had been having before things were soiled, the innocent stuff that he could gush and tease you over. But, just as you’re about to say something, he cuts you off unknowingly.

“Shit, Mingi’s calling. Le’me call you back,” Yeosang groans, and you offer a hum of affirmation before the line clicks. Maybe it’s for the best that you had been interrupted before you put your foot in your mouth.

You quickly fill the silence by shuffling one of your ‘Doing Chores’ playlists and focusing your mind on cooking the remainder of your dinner. A couple of minutes later, the chime of your phone interrupts your music. You continue to focus on stirring while your other hand carelessly presses the answer option.

“That was quick,” you giggle.

“Felt like forever to me,” a familiar, deep voice replies. You freeze and glance over to see Yunho’s name on the screen of your phone in place of your best friend’s.

  Fuck.

“Good evening, Mr. Jeong,” you reply instead. “I thought you were someone else, my apologies.”

“Have we really already reverted back to the formalities?” he sighs and his voice already sounds a bit defeated.

You roll your eyes, “I’m a bit preoccupied right now. So unless you’d like to discuss my class work, I don’t have time to entertain this.”

“Just give me five minutes, please.”

You turn off the stove and snatch up your phone before ambling to your bedroom.

“Spit it out already, Yunho.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you ____,” he admits.

Hearing you say his first name makes him feel a smidge better, even if it’s in irritation. He wonders if you can feel his heart pounding through the speaker or the way it makes his fingers tremble while holding the phone. “I was just scared, you have to understand that at least. I told you I’ve never done that kind of thing before, ever.”

“Thought it was a mistake–”

“I only said that because you left without saying anything. I thought you regretted it!”

“I literally told you why I did that, you decided to not believe me apparently,” you counter, voice laced with the slightest bit of frustration as you sit on your bed. Then you add in a mutter, “Instead of talking with me like an adult.”

There’s a long moment of silence. He doesn’t hang up though, so neither do you. You stare at the timer under his name, continuing to count up seconds full of emptiness.

“I’m really sorry,” Yunho finally sighs. “I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. I was just scared.” You remain silent and it eats at his confidence slowly. He’s desperate and doesn’t really care if it shows at this point, so he goes on to fill the silence again, “You were right, we’re adults. It’s not anybody else’s business what happens outside of campus. That’s why I’m trying to fix things now. Please.”

You sigh heavily while stroking your temples. This conversation is not something you had prepared yourself for, but the desperation in his voice is hitting you right in the gut. You know he’s being sincere, but it’s just hard to make yourself that vulnerable as well. You both know the truth is that it’s not okay, none of this is. It’s all extremely inappropriate. What you are doing with each other could ruin both of your lives if found out before you graduate. It’s risky; and yet, you still find yourself saying a sentence you definitely shouldn’t be saying:

“Listen, I genuinely like you Yunho.”

“And I genuinely like you too, ____. So let me take you on a proper date,” he says a little too hastily, but he can’t stop himself from the excitement that bubbles inside of him, stemming solely from you even reciprocating his feelings, “And not just a dinner like usual, I mean something thoughtful.”

“Something thoughtful…” you repeat after him, accidentally punctuating it with a giggle at how foolish the whole situation seems. “Are you serious about that?”

“Absolutely,” he assures you, “Only if you want to, of course.”

You sigh and smile to yourself at how heartfelt he sounds. Sure, there are millions of ways this could go extremely wrong, but you decide to ignore those thoughts and take him up on his offer. If you were one to listen to the better part of your judgment, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself into this situation in the first place. It would be a shame to let that work you put in go to waste just because of a little hiccup in the road. Besides, Yunho was surely the best fuck you had received in quite some time. There was plenty of time through the rest of the semester to explore that side of him again as well. The conversation ends with you both agreeing to meet with each other in a few days, Yunho promising to make it enjoyable even though it’ll be discrete.

♡ taglist for those who replied to my interest post: @yeos-bunny @sharksandminhos @sannieluvrr

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

Orc!Nanami x Human!reader

Tall fem reader btw. Smut. Tall girls deserve to be size kinked too. Pssspssspsss come get yalls juice.

Orc!Nanami who works as a liaison between the humans and orcs and therefore is sat in an office most days in a sharp specifically tailored three piece suit that hugs his body in all the right places.

Orc!Nanami who is so large his pants are tight around his thighs, stretching over his ass in the perfect spheres.

Orc!Nanami who can't help but notice the way you keep eyeing him in his tight shirts. Buttons struggling to hold it together for the sake of his dignity

Orc!Nanami who also can't help but notice how tall you are, and how unlike the humans around you, you fill up your skirts and dresses, never wear heels, wear loose fitting blouses that quietly hide your voluptuousness.

Orc!Nanami who thinks you smell exquisite! Like something sweet and spicy and he just really wants to taste...

Orc!Nanami who polishes his tusks every morning hoping that the shiny enamel would attract you like it did so many orc ladies.

Orc!Nanami who licks his lips every time you bend over and he catches a glimpse of the soft breasts swaying in the little v of your neckline. Your scent pervading his senses again.

Orc!Nanami who has to excuse himself from the meeting to rush to the men's room so his already tight pants don't burst.

Orc!Nanami who finds you stranded at the office one night after having worked late and offers to take you home as any good and respectable orc does.

Orc!Nanami who really doesn't expect you to pull him inside your flat telling him, "The forecast said it would rain. I insist you spend the night Nanami-san!"

Orc!Nanami who doesn't know you've seen him staring at you and would purposely do things to try and entice him but have him be the perfect gentleman in return to end up forcing your hand like this.

Orc!Nanami who helps you cook despite your protests. "It's fine you're my guest you don't have to—" "I would not bear the dishonour of making a lady I like, suddenly look after an unplanned guest."

Orc!Nanami who blushes, realising what he said when you turn and ask him coyly, "Wait, you like me?"

Orc!Nanami whose hips you pull towards your own and gently grind, making his brain short circuit, "That's lucky, 'cause I like you."

Orc!Nanami who can't believe his luck as he lifts you onto the kitchen countertop, begs you between kisses to be yours and yours only.

Orc!Nanami who is ecstatic when you nod and let's out a sharp hiss when your knee brushes his crotch.

Orc!Nanami who scrambles to remove your clothes. Your blouse, off your skirt, pulled down. Food lying forgotten as he buries his face into the crook of your neck when you tell him you want him to fuck you so good you forget how to walk.

Who lifts you into a princess carry, to your surprise, (makes sure the burners are off) and takes you to the bedroom praying to every god he can think of that you have lube.

Who can't wait himself and lays you down, squirting the pink lube bottle contents over your cunt and preps you for a minute with his thick fingers.

Who groans in arousal hearing the lewd, wet squelching sounds your tight pussy made as it swallowed his fingers.

Who askes you if this was okay for the nth time because, "I'm not built like a human and you're literally tiny."

Whose eyes widen when you push him onto the bed and get on top saying, "I'm going to ride you now and I want you to split me open like a pirate finding a treasure chest, so don't stop me.

Who let's you ride him till you get tired and can't then growls and thrust up into you holding you like a little doll, just made for his pleasure.

Who fucks you so good in every position you can manage till you've cum more times than you can count and all that you can think of is his cock.

Till you babble an incoherent string of I love yous, increasing in pitch as he pounds into you from behind, over and over, cumming in you with a filthy growl.

Who pulls you up against his chest, and despite being a tall woman among humans you feel tiny with him.

Who kisses you with as much tenderness as he can, telling you how good that was. How sweet you were for him. How pretty you are. How much he wants you to be his.

Orc!Nanami who orders food as you silently nap on his broad chest till it arrives.

Orc!Nanami who, holding you in his arms, looks out at the rain pattering on the window and feels at home.

@rodeorun 🫣🫣👀👀👀

TALL GIRLS PLS STEP ON ME

More tall!reader x Nanami

[realdramalove69]

Imagine being pregnant back to back to back to back….

Anna sighed heavily, each footstep painful as she made her way down the stairs. Her back ached, her baby filled belly constantly moving and weighing her down. Her large maternity dress barely covered her belly, the bottom of it only inches off the ground. At only twenty three years old she was already on her fifth pregnancy and this litter was her biggest yet.

She walked into the kitchen and began the task of preparing breakfast for her many children and her husband. She herself was starving, but she ate last. Her family took priority. Bacon, eggs, toast, pancakes, and bottles of milk for her many smaller babies.

As the sound of sizzling bacon wafted through the house her older children began to stir, making their way into the kitchen. Her oldest, a set of quints, helped get the younger children in their seats, setting the table for their gravid mother.

Anna looked at her children, not quite believing she already had so many. When she was eighteen her and her boyfriend, Dave, had sex for the first time, resulting in the quints. They were shocked to find out they were having so many but the doctor couldn’t explain it. Anna was just very fertile. Ever since then Dave kept her pregnant, not wanting her womb to be empty for even a second. Another set of quints and octuplets shortly followed and her last litter, a set of ten, was still sleeping soundly upstairs in their cribs.

Anna rubbed her belly. She was nearing her due date with the baker’s dozen now residing inside of her and she was eager to finally get them out. Anna was tired of having babies. She didn’t want to be pregnant anymore. Instead she wanted to spend time with the many children she already had; another part of her also wanted to just be a kid herself, enjoying the perks of being nearly twenty one.

“Morning,” Anna’s husband, Dave, said as he entered the kitchen. He lovingly stroked her belly, feeling the large babies beneath the skin. “How are my babies doing today?”

“They’re restless, that's for sure,” Anna replied.

“Well they only have a few more weeks in there.” Dave kissed her belly button, making her moan lowly as he rubbed her sensitive skin, pushing up her large maternity shirt to show off her gravid curves.

Anna tried to push him away but her belly was too big. She couldn’t reach him past her stretched womb. She instead handed Dave a plate and watched him sit down. She served the rest of her children before making herself a large plate, her cravings always getting the best of her.

Dave quickly ate. “I’ve got to get to the office. But you all be good for mommy today!” He kissed the heads of his children and left, leaving Anna to get the kids ready for the day all by herself.

It was a tough task taking care of her twenty eight children all by herself. Dave believed in traditional husband and wife roles: he would work and get to come home and relax while she took care of the house. All while giving him even more babies. She got the two sets of quints dressed for pre-school and loaded them into the large minivan, her mom stopping by to help drive them to school. Anna had lost the ability to drive months ago when her belly wouldn’t fit behind the wheel anymore.

“Good morning,” Anna’s mom, Crystal, said. “How are my grandbabies today?”

“Good!” the kids shouted.

Crystal patted her daughter’s belly and smiled. “How blessed your family is. So many babies and more to come.”

Anna forced a smile. “Yeah, I can't quite believe it sometimes. Can you pick them up at around 3 for me?”

“Of course! Anything for you. And I’ll be by after I drop them off to help with the little little ones.”

Crystal drove off with the ten kids leaving Anna alone to take care of the other 18. She grunted as she walked back up the stairs, needing to feed the babies. She had to go up the stairs sideways, her stomach squished between her and the railing. She sat heavily in the rocking chair and heaved her large breasts out of her shirt before beginning the long task of feeding ten fat and hungry babies.

Anna couldn’t help but resent her husband's lack of help. She was tired all the time, especially with thirteen more babies on the way. And she wanted a break from all of it. She knew getting pregnant again would only make her bigger and she dreaded the fact that one of these pregnancies would make her immobile. She rubbed her belly as the babies finished eating, concerned about how to even broach this topic with her baby crazy husband.

The end of the day finally came, her children were in bed, and Anna was able to take her gravid body to her own bedroom where she laid down heavily, the frame creaking under her weight. Dave rubbed her near full term belly. He couldn’t get enough of her pregnant form, demanding sex almost nightly. Anna would oblige, letting her husband pound away at her while she laid there, wondering how she could convince him to stop having babies.

After Dave busted in her he laid back next to her, panting heavily.

“How much longer until I can put another batch in you,” he said.

“I wanted to talk about that, actually,” Anna said. She pushed herself into a seated position, rubbing her belly to calm her babies. “I don’t want to get pregnant again.”

Dave frowned. “At all?”

Anna nodded. “I’m tired all the time. There's so many babies to take care of already and it's hard to do with this sticking out of me. I need a break.”

“You’re my wife. You’re supposed to give me a family.”

“I have given you a family. I’m telling you now, I’m starting birth control the minute these babies are born. Or you're getting a vasectomy. Got it?”

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this?”

“Because, Dave, this isn’t exactly what I thought my life would be.”

Dave nodded. “Alright. If it’s what you want. I will respect it.”

“Thank you. Goodnight.”

Anna turned on her side to try and get some sleep, surprised at how well that conversation went.

Dave, however, was not about to let his wife be without child. He laid awake, coming up with ways to convince Anna to get pregnant again. He even googled fertility drugs, wondering if there was a way he could replace the birth control with them instead.

The next morning Dave hopped out of bed and left the house quickly, leaving Anna alone with the sleeping children. He needed a plan. He went to his place of work, a science lab dedicated to advancing humans faster than ever before. While Dave may have been young, he was incredibly smart and worked through the ranks quickly, learning all that he could.

Dave went to his lab and looked around. He was the first one there, just as he hoped. He opened his locked drawer and pulled out a notebook labeled “Fertility”. He had been studying his wife’s extreme fertility for awhile now, all in secret. He had wanted to create a way for even the most barren of women to be able to conceive but now he wanted something that would make even those who hated kids want to do nothing but breed. He studied his previous concoctions and set to work creating a small bottle of what looked like perfume.

“This better work,” he muttered to himself. He grabbed the small bottle and pocketed it before locking away his secrets once again.

-------

A month later and Anna found her stomach flat once again as the 13 new babies laid crying around her. She had given birth on time, per usual, and all her babies were large and healthy. Dave smiled as he picked up the two week old babies, looking at his wife who seemed less than eager about the task ahead of her.

“How many miracles we have made,” Dave said.

“I know. But I’m not sure how I will be able to take care of them all myself.”

“You’re a wonderful mother. You will find a way.”

Dave kissed her but he could sense Anna’s resentment. He set the babies down and decided this was the right time.

“I have a gift for you,” Dave said. “Come with me.”

Anna followed her husband to their bedroom. A gift from him was rare and Anna was confused as to what the occasion was.

“Did I forget an anniversary?” Anna asked.

“No! I just wanted to show my wife how much I appreciate her.”

Dave handed her a neatly wrapped box. Anna took it and unwrapped it, revealing the small glass bottle.

“It’s perfume,” Dave said. “The lady said it smelled like lemons and honey which I know is your favorite.”

Anna smiled. “Thank you! This is actually very thoughtful.”

“Why don’t you try it out?”

Anna obliged, taking the perfume and spritzing it on her wrists and neck. It smelled amazing, making her close her eyes and breathe it in deeply.

“Wow,” Anna whispered. “That’s amazing.”

When she opened her eyes she looked her husband up and down and licked her lips. She was suddenly feeling very...horny. Anna rubbed her flat stomach, feeling how empty it was and how full she needed it to be.

What is wrong with me? She thought to herself. Get a hold of yourself!

But the drug was more powerful than Anna’s own mind. Dave walked closer to her, pressing her body against his as he grabbed her plump rear, making her squeak.

“You want more babies?” Dave asked. “I know how empty you must feel.”

"No," Anna whimpered. "We said...no more..." But she felt her thighs rubbing together and her pussy growing wet at the thought of growing even bigger.

Dave grabbed her and picked her up, taking her to the bed and laying her on her back. She moaned in protest, but she couldn't fight the intense hormones now raging through her.

Dave wasted no time ripping off her yoga pants and thrusting himself into her, his cock filling her tight pussy. He gripped her leaking breasts and pumped faster, eager to fill her before the perfume wore off.

Anna couldn't help but moan and groan as he hit all her sensitive areas. She could hear the voice of reason in the back of her mind screaming at her to stop, knowing she would only get more pregnant, but she laid helpless on the bed, cumming over and over as Dave gripped her thighs.

"I'm gonna fill you until you burst!" Dave groaned as he felt his cock growing hotter.

Before Anna could get him out of her, he shot ropes of hot cum into her waiting vagina. He held himself against her, not wanting any of the precious seed to leak out.

Anna came again, rubbing her flat stomach, her senses returning to her as Dave leaned on top of her, sucking on her ripe tits.

"What did you do?!" Anna screamed.

"Gave you what you wanted," Dave replied. He pulled out of her and left her laying on the bed, cum still leaking from her.

Anna rubbed her stomach and started to cry, knowing what the next ten months would bring.

-------

Four months in and Anna was already huge. She rubbed her quintuplet sized belly, groaning as she tried to heave herself out of bed to tend to her crying newborns. Dave slept soundly beside her, not even attempting to help care for his kids.

Anna finally got herself standing, her hands pushing into her lower back. She waddled heavily to the nursery, her tits already leaking through her maternity nightgown.

"Shh shh," she cooed as she began to nurse the 13 new babies. Her previous ten began to stir as well, wanting their mother’s precious milk.

"Oh, there's too many," Anna said as she tried to soothe the babies she couldn't feed right away.

It took hours but finally all the babies were fed and asleep and Anna could take her tired body back to bed. She laid back down on her side, her belly hanging off the side of the mattress. Dave rolled over and rubbed her tummy, feeling the stretched skin. He kissed her neck, making her groan.

"You're so big already," he moaned. "I want you bigger."

“I can't get bigger. I'll burst!"

"You'll grow beautifully my gravid wife."

Dave pulled down her underwear and pushed his aching member into her pussy. She groaned as he pumped in and out of her, making the bed creak under her gravid weight. He grabbed the bottle of perfume and spritzed it on her neck, seeing her eyelids close gently as the extra hormones took over her.

Anna wanted to protest but she couldn't help but moan lustfully as Dave hit all her sensitive spots. This pregnancy was already so heavy and it made her hornier than ever before. She could feel all the weight of her tummy pushing on her hips and vagina as Dave rolled her onto her back, pressing his muscular torso against the underside of her belly. He gripped the sides of her belly as he thrust in and out of her, making her cry out.

“Oooohhh,” Anna moaned. “Oh fill me up! I’m already so full but I need more!”

“And I’ll give you more!” Dave grunted. He sucked on her belly button, his tongue pressing the flat flesh back into her stretched skin.

“Dave! I’m gonna cum!” Anna shrieked.

“Get ready for my babies!”

Dave thrust once more before busting inside of her. Anna groaned as she felt her own orgasm go through her, making her legs go limp. He pressed against her, shoving his cum into her, urging her to grow bigger and bigger.

“Oh,” Anna groaned as Dave pulled out of her and got her back on her side. “Oh it’s so big already.”

“Just how I like it,” Dave moaned. He rubbed her belly as she struggled to get comfortable, eager to know just how pregnant he had gotten her this time.

[peachhcs]

I feel like Will could be a little shit sometimes, like we know he’s down badddd for Samy but I feel like sometimes when they haven’t seen each other for a while he’s determined to keep her close.

She’s trying to get up for the day? Lays his entire body on top of her, she’s trying to get dressed? Her clothes keep going missing, like he’s taking a sock and making her feel crazy because she knows she JUST sat them down.

He’s doing Anything he can to keep her at his side.

will is definitely doing everything he can to keep samy from leaving his side. he follows her around like a puppy honestly. samy likes to say he has separation anxiety sometimes

au masterlist

it was already 11 when samy finally woke up. she hadn't slept in that much in forever. she stretched out, but she didn't move that far because a strong pair of arm were wrapped securely around her torso. beside her was will still fast asleep, his face basically hidden in the crook of her neck. the girl smiled, reaching her hand up to tease some of his curls in her fingers.

she loved when he was always so close after not seeing one another in awhile. if he could, will would spend every second of the day by her side.

samy laid there for a few minutes just admiring her boyfriend's soft, sleepy features and playing with his hair. he didn't sleep with a shirt on last night, so she also got to admire his muscles peaking out of the covers. he was always fit, but his time with the sharks the last few months really worked in his favor. samy loved it.

she loved how he looked no matter what, but she really loved seeing his muscular arms in his t-shirts and built quads through his pants. it was literally every girl's dream.

after another few minutes, samy really needed to pee. she always had to when she woke up, but will's hold on her was pretty strong. she tried detaching his arms from her without waking him up. the blonde stirred and only pulled her closer to his body despite not waking up.

samy huffed. she poked will's cheek, "will, i really gotta pee."

he mumbled something incoherent.

"please, i have to pee so badly," the girl tried again and finally, will loosened his grip. samy took that as her chance and literally jumped out of bed to run to the bathroom.

when she came out will was still sprawled across the bed. the girl grinned and crawled back over to him where he finally poked his eye open.

"you left me," he grumbled.

"i had to pee. i'm sorry," samy laughed at his pout. he reached his arms out and made grabby hands as an indication that he wanted samy back in the bed. she got herself back in and will was quick to wrap his arms around her like before.

"did you sleep well?" the blonde wondered.

"i did. did you?" samy played with his curls again.

"i always sleep well with you," he hummed making her blush.

"what do you wanna do today?" the soccer player wondered and laughed when all will did was snuggle in closer.

"lay here with you all day."

"i wouldn't complain, but i feel like we should do something. it is like 11:15," samy said.

"so?" will didn't see what the problem was. he didn't have hockey for two days, so that meant he could use one of the days to do absolutely nothing. it was even better because samy was in town.

"we should at least eat something. i'm kind of hungry," just as the youngest hughes said that, her stomach rumbled.

"i know what you can eat," the hockey player earned a smack on the head for that comment.

"will."

"i'm kidding. i'm kidding," he lifted his head back up so samy could see the smirk on his lips.

"you're so immature," she rolled her eyes.

the brunette began pushing herself back up because she seriouly needed to eat something, but when she made a move to get up, will threw his entire body across her leaving her unable to get up or even move.

samy let out an oof, "hey!"

"you can't leave," will determined.

"i'm not leaving you this time. you can come with me to get food," the girl laughed.

“i don’t wanna leave the bed,” the hockey player mumbled. his weight was a bit crushing, but samy was used to it after being crushed and tackled by her older brothers growing up. she curled her arms around his back where she began drawing her fingers up and down his spine.

“you don’t wanna eat something?” the girl wondered and she was surprised to hear that will wasn’t already up looking for food.

“i’d rather lay in bed with you all day then go downstairs,” will said and samy couldn’t help but laugh. he was so adorable.

“okay, five more minutes but after that we need to eat something because i’m starving,” she compromised.

they laid there together with will’s crushing weight and he marveled in being so close to her. his favorite part of spending time with his girlfriend was being able to be so close to her and wake up to her at his side.

the five minutes passed way too quickly. the blonde reluctantly rolled off of samy so she could finally get up. he huffed and pushed himself off the bed as the girl found an actual shirt and pajama pants to put on. will threw on a random shirt on the floor and then snatched one of samy’s socks on the ground before she could find it. he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pressing little kisses to the side of her head.

“i wonder sometimes how you survive without me,” the brunette mumbled seeing the state of will’s very messy room.

“i don’t,” he said.

“remind me that we’re cleaning your room before i leave again,” the girl giggled and became confused when she couldn’t find her other sock she swore she threw onto the ground by the bed last night.

will watched in amusement knowing he had the sock. “where’s my sock?”

“what do you mean?” he played dumb.

“i swear i had both socks by the bed,” she bent down to check under the bed where she unfortunately found more miscellaneous things underneath.

“maybe they got mixed in with something?” the blonde hummed. samy stood back up and eyed her boyfriend. he had a really bad poker face when it came to her so she always saw right through him.

“will, did you take my other sock?”

“no.”

they stared at each other for a second before the youngest hughes lunged for his pockets. will yelped when she stuffed her hands in both front pockets and successfully found her missing sock. will pouted.

“that wasn’t fair,” he argued.

“you’re so weird. come on,” she tugged his hand and they started down the steps to the kitchen.

[maxknightley]

Which Touhou Girls Can You Plausibly Read As Butch? A Comprehensive Overview

Earlier on Tumblr I saw a post complaining that someone called Hecatia Lapislazuli from Touhou Project butch. This is Hecatia Lapislazuli:

Obviously, like most Touhou characters, she is in fact quite feminine - she just shops at Hell Hot Topic. But it got me thinking: In a series like Touhou, with a cast overwhelmingly defined by feminine (if rowdy) ladies, how many characters could you say are 'butch' without sounding like a complete doofus or significantly redesigning them to fit your headcanon?

CRITERIA

I'll be using four main criteria to judge characters' butchness. In real life, of course, butchness is a multivalent and extremely personal thing, but I'm talking about funny cartoon women from a video game here, so I'm willing to be a little reductive.

These criteria, in order of descending importance, are:

FASHION. In a series where goddamn near everyone is in either a dress or a skirt, the mere act of Wearing A Dress Shirt can be enough to make a powerful statement. Hats may also play a role here, given how many Touhou characters have gay little hats.

HAIRSTYLE. Short hair is not the be-all and end-all of butchness. I, myself, am Decidedly Butch even though I've been growing out my hair since college. But the length and styling of the hair are still a valuable indicator of how someone thinks of themself and wants to be seen.

'TUDE. Could this character be accurately described as "kind of a frat boy?" How do they speak to others? Do they just kind of seem like a character who ought to be butch, regardless of their looks? Do they even lift?

COMEDY FACTOR. Self-explanatory. This will probably only come into play if I run into a weird edge case.

I'll also emphasize that we're grading on a curve here - butchness is being assessed relative to the characters who do not appear on this list. Nobody in this series has a buzzcut, you know what I mean?

THE TIER LIST

AS CLOSE TO CANON AS WE'LL GET

Fujiwara no Mokou. The girl wears a dress shirt, fucking suspenders, and trousers. Not shorts, actual full-length pants. She's also in a perpetual love-hate mutual-murder situationship with Princess Kaguya, who is femme as all fuck. Obviously you don't have to be butch to date a femme - I'm just saying it feels Fitting given their whole deal.

Yuugi Hoshiguma. Most of the time, her fashion sense is actually quite feminine - but her look in the most recent chapter of Cheating Detective Satori, with the one exposed shoulder and the sarashi and all that, significantly alters the balance. Her hair actually reads as more masc to me when she keeps it long and unruly - when she puts it up in a ponytail, she ends up looking very kempt, even elegant. The deciding factor here is 'Tude: Her sheer levels of butch swag are off the fucking charts. (Still, I wouldn't blame someone for arguing she should be knocked down a tier - especially since I'd argue the Comedy Factor works in reverse here. She's way funnier if she doesn't think of herself as butch in the slightest.)

Minamitsu Murasa. In his original appearance I'd argue that Murasa is in "Reasonable" tier - maybe even as low as "Kind of a Stretch." But her big gay Jotaro jacket in Sunken Fossil World, combined with the emphasis on the weightiness and solidity of his trademark anchor, put her over the top. One of the only Touhou girls I consider worthy of being He/Himmed.

Shinmyoumaru Sukuna. The other He/Him-worthy Touhou girl. Very short, slightly messy hair; wears a kimono, not a dress; inheritor of Issun-Boshi's legacy; wears fucking dinnerware as a hat. Why do you want to be Big so badly, huh? So you can pick up women more easily? So you can carry your awful wife through the upside-down threshold of your upside-down bedroom?

Raiko Horikawa. For the longest time I thought her skirt was a pair of shorts because I straight up could not parse it as anything else. Even now I'm like "that can't possibly be a skirt, ZUN just drew it weird. She has to be wearing a full two-piece suit." Skirt aside, her jacket/dress shirt/necktie are still undeniable, as is her short hair. Also, she is a taiko drum given life, and I feel like taiko and timpanis are naturally butch. Maybe if she was a tambourine or a set of bongos I'd rank her lower?

Momoyo Himemushi. Rough-talking miner. Wears a dress shirt, leaves the top button(?) undone. Tromps around a big weird cave with no shoes or socks on. Wears bows and bangles basically everywhere but in her messy, tangled hair. Also, maybe I'm stereotyping here, but I just can't picture a centipede as being femme.

REASONABLE

Wriggle Nightbug. The dress shirt, cape, and puffy shorts all paint a vivid picture, but I just feel like I don't have a strong enough opinion on Wriggle as a character to put her in the top tier. In other words, she's got plenty of points for Fashion and quite a few for Hairstyle, but I just don't think the 'Tude is sufficient for me.

Reisen Udongein Inaba. The skirts are a strike against her, but her whole "dress shirt + necktie + sometimes suit jacket" thing makes a big difference, especially given that we're grading on a curve. Her rumpled ears and (particularly in Inaba of the Moon, Inaba of the Earth) pathetic demeanor go a long way towards giving her a vibe somewhere between "overworked salaryman" and "Detective Columbo."

Aya Shameimaru. All you need to know about Aya is that her "human reporter" disguise looks like This:

Mononobe no Futo. Butch, but in a really weird, circuitous way, imo. Like. She's sort of wearing a dress, but it's sort of a robe - the contrast of the hemline with her big flowy sleeves makes it hard to pin down - and her outfit quite notably has tassels rather than any kind of frills. I don't know what the hell is up with her hat but it's definitely not femme by any stretch of the imagination. Then thou hast the wayes in which she speaketh all "faux-olde-timey," even though nobody else in the setting does that... she transferred her soul into a plate, but she also throws plates around as weapons... It's like she's constantly putting on a performance that only she truly understands. It's like she reverse-engineered "masculine womanhood" by hanging out with a bunch of queens and doing kind of the same thing but kind of the inverse. The more I think about Futo the more I think she's entirely on her own wavelength, but I think "Reasonable" tier is a... uh, reasonable... approximation for the sake of this post.

Sagume Kishin. She dresses like if Bill Nye were a woman, and I think that cuts to the heart of it - she reminds me of a professor who you're not ever sure is gay, but you kind of pick up on a vibe, and near the end of the semester she offhandedly refers to "her partner" and you're like HOLY SHIT I KNEW IT. I went back and forth between putting her in "Reasonable" and "Kind of a Stretch"; ultimately, the Comedy Factor decided it because I couldn't stop thinking about a scenario where she says she's a woman, accidentally upends her whole understanding of gender in the process, and ends up taking testosterone while still ID'ing as a lesbian. I don't actually know if her powers would work that way and I don't care.

KIND OF A STRETCH

Eiki Shiki. I don't have a lot to go on, here, because she hasn't had many official appearances and seems to spend most of her time lecturing people or tormenting sinners. Her uniform(?)/apothecary outfit(??) is pretty snazzy; combined with the hat, it gives her a vaguely "military officer" look to me. We'll call her "butch pending further investigation," which I think she would agree is the correct course of action.

Sekibanki. She's here partially because of the cape, and partially because being sandwiched between Wakasagihime and Kagerou makes her look way more masc by contrast. I know what I said.

Ringo. It's pretty much just the hat and the pants, though - as a butch woman who Loves Eating - I am also inclined to project my own experiences onto her.

Aunn Komano. She reads as more "tomboyish" than outright "butch" to me, what with her whole puppy-dog vibe, but at the same time... she's very much wearing shorts and the kind of goofy-looking button-up shirt that is central to my own wardrobe and the wardrobe of other butches in my life. I'm willing to count her.

Takane Yamashiro. A living testament to the power of small character design choices. I would never in a million years call Nitori butch, even with her gay little hat and all the pouches on her outfit - she just looks like a girl scout. Takane, though? Takane, with her little hair swoopy, and the fucking suitcase slung over her back, and her camo-print dress? I mean - ultimately it is still a dress, which is why I can't justify scoring her higher, but she's definitely chewing tobacco and riding around on an ATV on weekends.

Chiyari Tenkaijin. If she's butch, it's not really because she's trying to be butch, it's just because being femme seems too expensive and time-consuming. She's got better things to do (drink blood all day). Still, I think an argument could be made.

DEFINITELY A STRETCH, BUT I RESPECT IT

Renko Usami. ZUN is kind of inconsistent with how he draws her hat - sometimes it's more of a porkpie/fedora type thing, other times it's round-topped and looks a bit like Koishi's hat. To me, this is a crucial distinction. In a more general sense, I feel like Renko's outfit gets a little less plausibly-masc with each passing album, which says a lot about our society. Or her society, anyway, since she lives in the future. Still, the capelets and bowties...

Rinnosuke Morichika. I think it would be really funny if the only significant male character in Touhou wasn't actually even a dude. I'm not aware of any real textual support for this interpretation, though.

Shou Toramaru. Pretty much only on here because of the hair and because I think there's a certain je ne sais quoi to her whole deal of "she's not a real tiger, she's the idea of a tiger that pre-Meiji Japanese people came up with from secondhand accounts."

Seija Kijin. Not even remotely butch by any stretch of the imagination... But if she did consider herself butch, isn't that exactly what she'd want you to think?

POTENTIALLY NOTEWORTHY EXCLUSIONS

Cirno. "Tomboyish" is not the same thing as "butch," to me, especially if you exclusively wear dresses. Also, I'm not sure Cirno even knows what a lesbian is.

Saki Kurokoma. Not actually butch, just a horse girl. (And a horsegirl.)

Mike Goutokuji. Can't tell if she's wearing a skirt or shorts. She's got short hair, sure, but the whole "matching bell collar and wristbands that also have bells attached" thing makes her look more like a Very Online Trans Woman who just figured herself out and hasn't started hormones or bought any new clothes yet.

[rosenclaws]

ok, first of, congratulations on so many followers!! your works are truly amazing and well written!! secondly, what about “we’re really going to fuck here? what if someone sees us?” with switch!leopold? maybe fucking him on the balcony or smth like that

warnings: NSFW, MINORS DNI, exhibitionism, riding, calling leo a good boy once

600 follower drabble masterlist!

a/n: More Leo love!! I miss writing for this man I really need to get more fics out for him. Also I changed the line slightly because I don't think our boy would say fuck just yet.

You loved nothing more than watching the stars from your balcony. It was peaceful, a way to relax after facing the wolves in your job. Just you and a cup of tea and recently Leopold. You had a nice warm couch on your balcony.

It could really only fit you and him and even then you had to cuddle up. Not that you minded of course. Big fluffy blankets too. Leopold loved watching the stars too. It was his time alone with you where you can destress and just enjoy each others company.

It reminded him of his childhood. When he was a child and couldn't sleep he would stare out the window and count the stars. Eventually it would lull him to sleep. Now he can't see them very well anymore but he still loves them.

Tonight though felt different. You had a date with Leopold and while you were already dating the tension was undeniable. His feather light touches, your low cut dress, shared whispers. You were both a little on edge going into your night time routine. Your hands mindlessly found their way under his shirt as you looked out at the city. You could feel his heartbeat quicken under your touch. The stars were the last thing on his mind as certain thoughts popped into his head. Thoughts that made his head dizzy.

Slowly the two of you forgot about the stars and focused on each other. You were on his lap kissing passionately. His hands were roaming your body and yours were tugging at his hair.

"My love, we should move." He can feel himself getting hard and the need to be inside you was growing. To his shock you shake your head.

"No." Your hands leave his hair and snake down to his pants.

His eyes widen as you unbutton his pants and pull them down to his knees. The fluffy blankets hid enough but if anyone were to see you there would be no mistaking what you were doing.

You pull his cock out of his underwear and stroke him firmly. He tilts his head back as his cock grows hard in your hands. You were growing needier by the second. He's just so pretty, so hot. You need him inside of you and you have all night.

“We’re really going to...here? what if someone sees us?” Leopold says with a blush. A slight whimper leaving his lips as you sink yourself onto him. Your panties are pushed to the side, too desperate to take them off.

"Let them watch." You purr as you start to bounce on his lap.

His hands are gripping your hips tightly. Keeping you steady as you fuck yourself harder. You bury your face into his neck. Holding onto him for dear life as he stretches you so sweetly. For such a shy man he's got a big cock. Leopold is holding you tightly. Protecting any intimate part of you from possible watchful eyes. He can't deny that the very idea of someone watching your sinful display makes his cock twitch. His face grows warm at the possibility of someone seeing just how well the two of you fit together. How easily you fall apart.

"Such a good boy Leo." You groan quietly into his ear as you start to pick up the pace.

You're slamming your hips down onto him, going as deep as you can. Your nails digging into his shoulders as your resolve starts to break. Leopold purrs at the praise. He loves being your good boy and part of that is bringing you over the edge.

"I got you my love. I got you." He wraps his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your temple as he starts to take control.

Thrusts his hips up at a slow but devastating pace. He grunts in your ear with every move, ramming his cock into you. Fuck it feels so good. You whine as you clench hard around him, pleasure rushing over you as you start to melt into his arms. Leopold muffles his moans by pressing his face into your neck. His thrusts becoming sloppy as he chases his release.

"Leo...need you please." Your pretty fucked out voice sends him over the edge.

His eyes rolling to the back of his head as he comes inside of you. His face contorts in pleasure as he stills his hips and keeps you locked down.

A cool breeze blows by and you both sigh at the feeling. Your bodies are hot and sweaty and there's a sense of excitement for what you had just done. Never in a million years would Leo have imagined doing something as daring as this yet he craves more. Clearly you enjoyed the idea of being caught and so did he.

"You are amazing." He says in awe as you slip off his lap.

He pulls your panties back to their normal place, blushing slightly at the sight of his cum dripping out of you. You find it cute. Still so shy despite being balls deep just a moment ago.

"Shall we move inside my love?" There's a desperation to his plea, his eyes shining with desire. You start to unbutton his shirt, revealing his perfect chest to you.

"How about we move this to the bedroom, we have some pretty big windows in there." You whisper, nipping at his ear. You wrap the blanket around yourself and get up, winking as you disappear into the window.

It doesn't take long for Leopold to follow, mind already buzzing with ideas.

[tojislibrvry]

★ ︵ @ fem!toji / reader , sexuāl fantasies , cūnnilingus , strāpping , fingēring , perv toji , genderbent au , roommate au

it is almost 2 am when you hear someone ring the bell. it was a warm night, you had shed layers of clothes opting to wear a tank top and shorts. the air was thick with humidity, a layer of sweat making your body glow under the dim lights of your apartment. you get up from your comfortable position on bed — legs curled and on your side scrolling on your phone. stretching your sore arms you walk to your front door.

you look through the peephole and see none other than your new roommate toji. you both met for the first time in a cafe after she answered to your post looking for a roommate to split rent. she was truly a sight to behold. decked in comfortable looking clothes, a pair of baggy jeans and a form fitting t-shirt that fit her large frame perfectly, a hint of her calvin klein boxers peeking through. she was charming, and nonchalant and you decided at that moment that you would not mind sharing an apartment with her.

you open the door and you are met with the sight of a very drunk toji.

"... i think i'm going to throw up."

girl.

toji's eyes burn as she throws up into the toilet bowl, stomach churning with nausea already. she can feel the beer make it's way back up to her mouth and she swears that she'll never drink again.

she feels your soft hand on her back as you coo at her plight. you draw soothing circles on her skin as she heaves again.

"s'okay toji, it's almost over." you say as she pukes her gut out for the final time and collapses on the bathroom floor.

you help her up and get her to brush her teeth. up and down, side to side. the foamy sounds growing louder as you move the toothbrush. she's taller than you, by a lot of inches than you can count so to reach up to her is a struggle, arms cramping up with the effort.

she's still very drunk, bubbles of her intoxication bursting around her.

you bring her to her room when you notice her outfit. she's wearing a black tank top, a little too tight on her skin paired with leather pants that seem a little too warm for the weather.

she seems to realise that too because the next thing you know she's tugging off her pants, sliding it off her long legs.

you quickly turn your back to her, fingers pressed against your wandering eyes.

"toji! y-you can't just do that!!" you whisper-yell, hoping she would stop nearly stripping in front of you.

"was too hot, fuck—" she mumbles, "—m never fucking wearing leather again."

"are you dressed ?" you sigh in defeat, back still turned.

".... yeah, look at me baby."

toji was a flirty, sleazy and oh so mean drunk.

you turn to see her only wearing her thong and a graphic tee that is conveniently pulled over the curvature of her ass.

she looks at you face flushed and still manages to sneak in a wink.

".... i'm leaving."

she gets up and grabs you before you can leave pulling you into the bed with her. she holds you close as your face is pressed impossibly close to her chest, close enough to hear her beating heart.

"nooooo ... stay with me, please."

the next morning toji wakes up with the kind of headache that makes her want to hit her head against the wall. she groans as she gets up, back all kinds of fucked up. she rubs her eyes, sitting cross legged on the bed. once her vision clears, she notices something on her bedside table.

' your head probably hurts a lot rn >:( , so here's a painkiller and some water. take it after you eat the soup i've made. it's in the fridge ( heat it up for 30 seconds ) ! take care ~ ♡ p.s - your phone should be at 100% now , it's charging in the living room '

oh

she heats the soup and it tastes just right, making her feel a lot better. her phone is not dead and fully charged, her room definitely cleaned up and she realises even her makeup from the night before was removed. she takes the painkiller and heads to the couch where she pulls her phone out to text shiu.

t. fushiguro : i need to fuck my roommate shiu 🐾 : girl, that's gay t. fushiguro : ...

it becomes unbearable for toji to be around you. her once 'super nice!' roommate becomes the star of every single one of her wet dreams. it doesn't even take a lot from you for toji to bite her fist in frustration.

you wearing a checked apron ? wet. you kissing her cheek goodbye ? horny. you passed out on the couch snoring ? she wants to eat you.

you were just so fucking cute.

she also starts wishing that you stopped becoming comfortable around her. just the other day, she was grabbing a quick bite from the kitchen when she's met with the sight of you wrapped in a fluffy turkey towel coming out of your shared bathroom.

"t-toji!" you yelp in surprise with her sudden presence. her heart beats so hard, as you come closer. your hair dripping wet, bare faced and a soft smile painted on your lips. the towel doesnt do much. its wrapped tightly around your breasts and she can see the soft peaks of your nipples. the towel was also way too short to cover your glistening thighs. fuck.

she thinks about the way you looked that one time as her fingers push deeper into her cunt. she tries not to think of you like that. you were too sweet to be the main character of her perverted fantasies. she imagines your eyes screwed tightly as she fucks deeper into you with her strap. she imagines every single one of her wildest fantasies.

would you bite ? would you scratch ? she thinks how delicious the drag of your manicured nails against her back would feel ? would you cry ? sob as she plays with your pretty clit ? she wants you under her already.

all of her fantasies manifests into existence on a normal saturday. she comes home to you seated in the dining table, with your lips pursed. you barely notice that toji's back home, mind clearly distressed.

"everything alright roomie ?" she asks, startling you. your eyes widen animatedly and you gasp.

"toji!" you take a deep breath in, "we need to talk."

fuck, toji thinks to herself. you probably found evidence of her debauchery somehow and wanted her to leave.

she clambers over to you and takes a seat, palms clammy. "y'er scaring me, doll."

you shake your head, anguished. "toj' we can't be roommates anymore..." you drop your head down, like a kicked puppy.

"oh."

"is it because you found my stash of your stolen pant—" "i am attracted to you toj—"

HUH

your mouth hangs, jaw dropped. toji is quick to turn red. she curses her stupid mouth. why didn't she wait till you talked ?

"you STOLE my panties ?"

"you are attracted to ME ?"

both of you fall silent. situation way out of both your hands.

"we should fuck now, obviously."

"you can't just say that !!"

toji had imagined you in 38 positions, 53 different outfits and 120 separate plot lines all involving you with your eyes rolled up your head with pleasure.

none of those fantasies even came close to the feeling of you sat on her lap, rubbing yourself against her thighs, your mewls don't go unnoticed as she bites your nipples, soft cries echoing through the room.

your nails raked against her naked back, eyes crossed in the simple pleasure of her thigh getting you off. she could feel you throbbing through the thin layer of frilly pink panties that you still had on.

you stop and look at toji, she almost worries that you don't want to continue this little game.

"toooji," you sound drunk, eyes lidded, "please let me taste you."

toji has you on your knees, carpet rubbing against your soft skin. her legs are sprawled out to the sides of your head, you vision looking straight at her pussy. she looks at you, elbows supporting her just so she can watch you try to give her head.

you start off slow, kissing her sensitive inner thighs. you take your time to press your lips softly against body, moist with arousal and sweat from the sweltering heat.

with precision, you lick a strong stripe along her slit. this action is enough to pull the softest sounding gasp from toji. you pull back, strands of her arousal attached to your lips. you calm your beating heart and try to ignore the way toji looks at you.

"go on, you were begging for this." she mocks you. you slowly use your fingers to spread her lips apart, a resounding squelch bounces off the walls.

"you are so wet toji....," you sigh dreamily as you press your lips to her clit. toji's hands make way to your head and pulls your hair, making you moan into her skin.

"y'er so nasty, so dirty for me, only me right baby ?" you nod and begin to make out with her cunt. you begin to drool as you taste her, the tanginess of her juices igniting your brain on fire.

you cry out together with her when you push your tongue into her pulsing hole, fluttering around the wet muscle that invades. she groans, pushing your head impossibly closer to her cunt.

you continue to eat her out, till her thighs begin to shake from exhaustion. you suddenly stop, looking up at toji with the widest doe eyes she's ever seen.

"please use me toji, wanna make you feel good."

that's all she needs to hear before she drags you back to her cunt, this time her hips grinding against your face. your nose bumps into her clit and she reels you in deeper.

"fuck, doll," she whispers, "i'm so fucking close." you hold on to her thighs as she fucks your mouth. your tongue is strained from the attention you give her, the wetness of her arousal like music to your ears. she does not pull you off when she squirts, painting your face with her juices.

your pants create clouds of heat against her skin, face flushed and content. suddenly you are flipped, eye to eye with toji caging you beneath her. her tits, enormous as they are, all for you to take in with your eyes hangs above you. there's a glint in her gaze that tells you that she's going to devour you.

"now, my turn."

toji has you in a mean mating press, as she fingers you. she grabs you and holds you close with a single hand on your waist. you know very well tomorrow you would wake up with the bruises of her rough padded fingers blooming on your skin. your legs ache from their bent position on her muscled shoulders.

"toooooji," you whine as you feel her spit on your cunt, "m' sensitive." you tremble with over sensitivity. your teeth clatters as she brings you closer to another orgasm, thumb working quickly against your sticky clit. she grins victoriously at your ruined state, makeup running down in streams as you look at her with stars in your eyes.

"fuck! don't look at me like that." she grunts as she shoves her thick fingers deeper into your aching cunt. she looks at the base of her knuckles, rings of your creamy release making her grow wetter with the anticipation of your release.

"baby, please, let me use my strap on you." she nearly begs, voice scratchy with need. you whine with embarrassment, eyes prickling with tears of humiliation as you nod.

"use your words," she taps your sloppy pussy. "tell me what exactly you want."

"stop teasing me..." you mewl, "please fuck me with your strap toji." you say with our fingers covering your eyes, streaming in vision of toji's satisfied face.

toji has you arched, ass rippling as she fucks into you with her emerald green strap. she grinds her hips against you. she bends over, hands massaging your tits and the way you would whimper whenever she rubbed your nipples between your fingers fell on deaf ears.

"atta girl, move against me just like that," she grouses as you throw slow circles against the strap. you feel her reach all the way up to your gut, the stretch nearly splitting you into half.

"hah! ngh—," you moan as you feel her bully her strap against your g-spot, nestled all the way in you, "—s'too much toj!" you try to say as you run from her strap. her pelvis bruises your ass with the force of her unforgiving thrusts. she cackles at your plight, suddenly flipping you to your side so she can fuck deeper.

the angle she has you in makes you feel like youve ascended heaven, the mean grind against your poor cunt as she slams her strap in a way that no one could withstand. all hours of her working out in the gym were paying off as she sees you sob, praying for release.

the plap-plap in the room doesn't stop until you squirt all over her strap, making a mess of your pink sheets.

"fuck! baby, that was amazing," she whispers at the wetness dripping off her body, she didnt know you could squirt. you crawl away from her before she grabs your ankle and pulls you back against her body again, "— awww baby, you didn't think that was all, right ?" she fills you up until you can't breathe, the wind knocked out of your lungs.

"once more, you can do it—" you can almost feel her throb, "fuck, you look so pretty." this time she brings her nimble fingers to work on your pretty clit, sticky and gooey as she rubs circles on it.

"i'm so close !—" you cry out, her fast fingers making you taste your release. you cry out, eyes closed tightly from the pleasure of orgasming for the fifth time that night. she whistles as you squirt again, body giving up from the buzzing between your legs. your lashes flutter ready for a quick nap.

"i love ya' toji." you mumble out as you fall asleep, feeling toji pull out. her cleaning you up is all a fuzz, wet cloth wiping away all the fluids using your body as a canvas. you swear on life that at some point, she whispers a 'i love you too baby.' but you chalk it up wishful thinking.

when you wake up from your nap, you see toji on the bed next to you opening up a package. she looks happy, small smile on her scarred lip. she's still half naked, wearing a green satin robe left untied. she looks beautiful as the moonlight hits her.

"oh, you up? " she says as she holds the scissors in her mouth to use her hands to rip off the tape.

"what do you have there ?" she doesn't reply until she brings out the product.

its curved, pink and looks like a double ended dildo with ridges on them.

"pink is your favourite colour right ?"

[sluttysnowangel666]

The Song of Blackwoods & Brackens Chapters 13 & 14

This story is written BY ME and I do not consent or give permission to it being posted or translated anywhere else. thank you for supporting your writers <3

find the other chapters/masterlist here

cw: smut af, loss of virginity, very gentle praising sweet benji :3

Chapter 13: The Night Before

15 hours before the battle of the burning mill

𐂃 𐂃 𐂃 𐂃

In the blink of an eye, my clothes are off and on the floor. His hands slowly caress my body, feeling every inch so he can memorize all of me.

"Do I please you, my lord?" I ask him, my voice thick with sultry.

"Fuck," He whispers, "You don't know how badly I've wanted to know what was underneath your fucking brother's clothes."

"Speaking of clothes..." I place my fingers on his chest before slowly moving them down to the string on his breeches. "You're far too dressed, my lord."

He pulls his shirt off with haste, moving to quickly undo the strings of his bottoms. I nearly die at the sight before me. I trace my fingers down his toned torso, admiring each and every scar. His stomach is muscular and fit. Gods, the man he was.

"You're such a beauty." He whispers, cupping my face in his hands before leaning forward to give me a most tender and deep kiss on my lips. I rest my hands on his bare chest.

"Touch me." I whisper to him, between kisses. But he doesn't make the motion to do it. Instead he keeps one hand on my cheek, the other balancing himself on the table. "Do I frighten you?" I ask.

"I'm afraid the moment I touch you, you'll vanish." He pauses, his voice just above a whisper. "If this is a dream, I'll kill the man who wakes me."

"I'm real, Benji." I cup his cheeks in my hands, pressing my forehead and nose to his. "I'm here, and I want you more than anything."

My words soothe him, and he finally puts his hands on my breasts, all without breaking our kiss. I moan into his lips. I feel his hardness between my legs, pressing into my thigh. I dare not look.

"You're proper gentle with me." I whisper into his lips, "Where did that man from these past few weeks go? The one who knocks me on the ground, the one who-"

He flips me onto my stomach, my cheek is pressed into the table and my breathing quickens at his roughness. He leans over me, his chest onto my back and his length pressing into my backside. He takes a handful of my hair and lightly pulls my head back to whisper into my ear, "Be careful what you wish for, my dear little Bracken."

I can't help but smile. This was all becoming so real. I finally had him where I wanted him (on top of me) and I never wanted him to leave. I wanted to savor this moment, to stay in it forever.

"I wish for you." I whisper. He plants little kisses on my cheek. He runs his fingers along my arms, before stopping at my hands to intertwine his fingers with mine.

He moves his hand back to my waist and gently pulls me up. He turns me around and kisses me again. His fingers come back to my breasts, gently rubbing them. He kisses my neck, whispering sweet little nothings as he gently rubs me.

"My girl. My Bracken. My sweet. My love." He whispers in my neck. My, my, my. All his.

He moves his fingers down my nape, slowly, painstakingly making their way down to my wetness. A gasp hitches in my throat, and my arms wrap around his neck for support. He continues to kiss my neck.

He softly begins to swirl his fingers around me, finding the little sweet spot in my folds. The feeling is so foreign and intense. My breaths are quick and shallow. I remember learning of this feeling, these sort of events from the maester, but Gods the books didn't do the feeling justice. They didn't do him justice.

"Benji." I moan his name, and he whimpers, quickening his pace on my nub, wanting to see my release. He softly and subtly pushes a finger in me, and then another, stretching me to fit the rest of him later. His thrusts start slow and gentle, then eventually increasing in pace at his desperate want to feel me release on his fingers.

I rest my head in the crook of his neck, my moans growing louder with each swirl and thrust of his fingers. His name leaves my lips like a prayer. I'm a mess beneath him, my body bending to his will. His length is so hard against my thighs. I desperately want him inside me.

He might not be showing it, but he's a wreck himself. My moans are sending him into a frenzy, my lips on his neck, his name on my lips nearly making him melt.

I grasp his hair with one hand, the other digging my nails into his back. He moans at the sweet pain, wanting to be any sort of grounding I need.

"I've got you, little Bracken." He whispers, urging my release.

That fucking pet name. The shameful things it does to me.

The foreign feeling in my stomach is at an all time high. The only way I can describe it is like lightening. It peaks, and my vision blurs. I nearly scream in shock and pleasure at the feeling, trying to quiet myself in his neck.

"Gods! Gods, Gods, Gods, fuck!" I moan.

"It's just me here. A Blackwood heir giving a Bracken Lady the sweetest feeling she'll find. What will people say about that? Will the Gods laugh at that irony?" He whispers, rubbing me through my high.

He felt like a different man. I felt like a different woman. Just weeks ago he bullied and fought me, treated me like the man I pretended to be. Now he touches me with such sweet love, such gentleness, holding me through the most intense feeling I'd ever felt.

He pulled his fingers from me, wet and sticky with my release. I was soaked; the table and my thighs were covered with me. He placed gentle kisses on my forehead, planting his hands back on my waist.

He pulls me from the table, walking backwards with a smirk on his face. He turns and gently pushes me on the cot before crawling over me.

His hips are between my legs, with one hand beside my head to hold himself up. The other hand gently rubs my thigh, slowly spreading my legs apart. His hands snake their way to my breast again, rubbing it softly before coming back to my waist.

My chest rises and falls quickly, a gentle fear washing over me. He notices. "Are you nervous?"

I nod. "Don't be. You're in control. I'll only do what my lady commands of me."

I nod again, slowly reaching my hand down to grasp his length. I grow more nervous at the size in my hand. He was going to ruin me.

I guide it to my slick, gently rubbing it against my folds. He gasps at the feeling, trying to maintain his composure and not slam himself into me.

My breaths are shallow and quick. The maesters didn't prepare you for the anxiety before the event.

"Sh. I've got you." He whispers, kissing my cheek. I rest my hand on the back of his head, my hand shaking as I play with his curls nervously. He places the tip inside my entrance, then brings his hand back to intertwine with my other free hand.

I'm gasping, barely able to catch my breath. "Focus." He rests his forehead on mine, both of us closing our eyes. "Breathe in, breathe out. Just like with the bow. We're one, an extension of each other."

"Are you a poet? You have a way with words I've never heard from you before." I laugh nervously, and he smiles softly.

His eyes await my approval, before I finally nod. I place my hand on his lower back, ready to guide his pace.

He enters me, and I gasp. My breaths go from quick and shallow, to none at all momentarily. He pauses, waiting to continue. I nod, he continues and I take a deep breath in as he goes the rest of the way.

I breathe out a small sob when he's all the way in. "I've got you, I've got you." He says, his hand resting on my cheek as his finger softly swipes the single tear that fell from my eye.

"I'm sorry." I whisper.

"Don't be sorry. You're mine. I'm yours."

His words soothe me, and my hands rest on his waist, gently starting to push him in and out.

The pain dulls, slowly becoming sweet and pleasurable. I pull him close to me, his chest touching mine, my arms wrapped around his neck. I moan in his neck, whining his name at the sweet feeling.

He moans my name back, whispering gentle words of encouragement. "My girl. You're taking me so good. You feel so sweet, so tight. I can't contain myself around you."

I press my forehead to his, both of us gasping and moaning as we look into each other's eyes, sharing an intense kiss occasionally.

"Gods, you treat me so well." I moan.

"My lady." He whines. Sweat drips down our bodies, the heat and humidity doesn't help but it's impossible to notice. All I can focus on is him.

"My lord. I'm close." I moan.

"Yes, yes, my lady." He urges me, moving his finger back down to my sweet spot. I moan at the intense feeling. His strong thrusts mixed with his rough fingers on my spot is too much to handle.

My words jumble together, a mix of his name along with pleading. He brings me to my peak, which was stronger than the last one. I cry out his name, tears stinging my eyes at the intense pleasure. My nails scratch his back until I draw blood.

He doesn't care about the pain, and keeps going until he knows he's milked the most pleasure out of me possible.

He reaches his climax shortly after, and lets out a sob. A sob, from his own peak being so strong. He holds me tightly, bringing me in for one last strong kiss before letting me go.

We don't move for a second, both of our chests heaving up and down, both of us staring at each other.

He says nothing, but moves off to lay beside me. It's quiet for a moment, as we both catch our breath. There's tension in the air though. He wants to say something.

I wasn't expecting his next words though.

"Don't marry the Lannister."

I immediately sit up and turn to look at him, searching his face for any signs of humor. All I see is a serious look on his face, and his body glistening with a thin sheen of sweat.

"Is this a jest?" I ask, annoyed.

He sits up beside me, taking my hand in his.

"Let me take you as my wife, Lady Bracken."

"Benji-"

"You begged me. Do you remember that night?" He asks. I nod. "I won't let anyone ever hurt you. I won't let them sell you off when you're finally useful. I won't force you to take my bed and give me heirs. You'll be your own person. You'll be a Blackwood."

"It would start a war. A war between our own kin. Brackens, Blackwoods, Lannisters, Hightowers... We wouldn't even survive."

He grabs my face, forcing me to look at him. I gasp at his touch.

"I will kill every person in the Riverlands, the Vale, Winterfell, King's Landing, Essos, Bravos, you name it... I'll kill everyone in this bloody world until it is just us left, if that's what it takes."

I caress his face, "Bloody Ben." I whisper.

He smiles softly, closing his eyes as he leans into my hand, pressing his lips to my palm. "I'll be your wife... On one condition."

"Say it and it is done."

I kiss him, pulling away to whisper, "Make me yours again."

He pushes me against the wall, wrapping his hand around my throat with a deep tender kiss.

"My Lady... I was expecting a challenge."

—————

Chapter 14: Back Where We Began

cw: more smut (it's rough) soft benji can't come to the phone rn he's dead

4 hours before the battle of the burning mill

𐂃 𐂃 𐂃 𐂃

"My love."

I open my eyes to see Benji looking at me, a soft smile on his face. His fingers twirl in my hair.

"Has the sun risen?" I ask, wiping the sleep from my eyes.

"Not yet. Soon, surely."

"Have you slept, my sweet?" I ask him.

"I'm afraid to."

"You, afraid? Why?"

"I'm afraid if I sleep, I'll wake and you're no longer there." He says. I smile and kiss his nose.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm gonna stay right here and cause all kinds of trouble." I whisper.

"Can you dress? I want to go somewhere." He asks. I nod and we get up, putting back on our clothes.

He sneaks behind me, pressing his chest to my back and gently holding my waist, resting his nose in my neck to inhale the scent of my skin. "The war crimes I would commit to see you in a dress are unspeakable."

"Just wait, my sweet. Soon enough you'll be able to rip a white one off me." I say. He bites my neck, eliciting a moan from me.

He pats my bottom, giving me a soft push out the tent door. I feel his eyes lingering as I walk out.

The man had known who I was the whole time, knew what parts were beneath my brother's clothing, yet said nothing the whole time. He was a man starved. Now that the truth was out, he wanted nothing more than to feast for hours on end.

We left the tent and walked. A familiar walk, to a familiar spot.

"Why are we here?" I asked, recognizing the familiar rotted weirwood.

"I wanted to see it one last time." He said, "After today, we won't have to hide here."

I turn and smile at him. "Do you remember when we fought?"

He smiled back, "I remember the bloody strength it took not to pin you down and take you right on the ground for your sharp little tongue."

"It's not too late." I smirk at him.

"It is. You're my lady. I'll respect you like one now."

"Truly?" I ask, wondering if I could elicit a reaction from him.

"Tread carefully, my Lady." He smirks.

"But, what if I don't want to?" I ask, getting on my hands and knees, slowly crawling towards him seductively. I stop at his feet, looking up at him through my lashes. I kiss his muddy boots softly, slowly kissing my way up as I use his thighs for balance. I stop at his crotch.

"Did our last engagement not tire you?"

"No... Is my betrothed just another Blackwood cunt?" I tease. His smile fades.

"My dear little Bracken... Do not let your lust cloud your sense." He warns.

I rise to my feet. "Is that a threat, Benjicot?" I ask, placing my hand on his breeches, feeling his hardening length.

"A promise." He groans a bit, but keeps his voice steady.

"You won't hurt me." I say.

"No, I won't. I'll do something worse."

"Let's find out." I take a step back, removing my clothes until I'm naked in front of him.

He stands his ground, hands folded behind his back.

"I know a rather good ballad. Do you wish to hear it?"

"Y/N... Don't you dare." He says, his voice seething with anger as he knows what I will say.

I dared anyway. A poem, written by my brother as children was known to piss off any Blackwood beyond reason. It was crude, offensive, and untrue, but just what I needed to get Bloody Ben to come out and play.

"Blackwood cunt, the heir born a runt, his mother a whore, his father a bore. Riverrun assize, Aeron Bracken brought tears to his eyes-" He marched forward, grasping my neck and cutting off my beautiful song, shoving me against the weirwood.

My back scraped the hard bark, and I gasped at the pain but continued anyway. "Bloody Ben, Bloody Ben, Bloody Ben-" I antagonized him more.

He wrapped his hand over my mouth, "Close your fucking whore mouth, now. You're making this worse for yourself."

I gasped in his hand at his harshness.

"My dear, dear love... you have pushed my limits beyond words. You truly don't know when to quit." He says, his words thick with anger. "I think I've got a solution for that sharp tongue of yours."

"As for this wet little cunt," He says, reaching down to run a finger between my slick folds. "I'm not quite sure yet."

"Please," I beg, quietly.

"Hm? Please what, darling?" He whispers.

"I'm sorry-"

"Fuck your empty apology. You erred, little Bracken, and now you're earning the consequences." He says, "You truly want me to break you in rough? Even more than earlier?"

I nod. He contemplates it, not wanting to disrespect a Lady, but not wanting to deny her wishes either.

"Get on your knees." He pushes me down, grabbing a fistful of my hair in his fingers. "Undo me."

I quickly untie his breeches, releasing his length again for the third time in just hours.

With no warning, he shoves his length into my mouth. I whine, slobbering on his length. "Don't whine now, little Bracken. Your foul mouth was not that of a high born lady, so now I'll use it like a low born girl's."

He thrusts into my mouth, pushing me back and forth with his fist in my hair. Tears pour from my eyes as I gag on him, hardly even able to breathe. But, what can I say? He knew just how I wanted it. I didn't want Benjicot Blackwood, I wanted Bloody Ben.

"Perhaps I should fill this dirty mouth of yours with my seed. Will that quiet your sharp fucking tongue?" I whine on his length, moaning incomprehensible pleads of No. "No? I'd reckon you'd still run your fucking mouth anyway."

He pulls out, and I fall on my hands, gasping and choking for air as slobber spills from my mouth. He kneels and tilts my chin up to look at him, my eyes wet and soaked with tears.

"Now who's got the tears in their eyes?" He says, pushing my face back down and standing up. He removes the rest of his clothes, giving me the chance to catch my breath.

He pushes me flat on the ground with his hand, then presses his knee on my back, taking a fistful of my hair again. I gasp at the pain of his weight, and his knee touching the raw cuts from the tree.

"Ben, fuck!" I moan, as he uses his free hand to stick two fingers inside me. I slam my fist into the ground, moaning in sheer ecstasy. "Fuck, I can't..."

"You can, and will." He says, continuing to thrust his fingers in me.

"I'm close, I'm... so..." I trail off again, and he quickens his pace, all the while keeping his weight on me with his knee, preventing me from wiggling beneath his touch.

"Cum on my fingers again, Bracken whore." He commands, and I scream into the forest ground, releasing onto his fingers again. The Gods were definitely ashamed of us right now, doing this beneath a weirwood tree. This poor weirwood had suffered enough, now Benjicot was fucking me beneath it. 

He doesn't stop, continuing to abuse my poor cunt, the once pleasure now stinging with a much stronger feeling. "Oh, please, B-Ben..."

"Feeling a bit too much now, Bracken?" He teases. I nod into the ground, whimpering in pain and pleasure. "Perhaps I don't know when to quit either."

My head is swirling with so many feelings. My next peak is already building up, and he knows. He removes his knee and climbs over me, removing his hand only to quickly reach it under my stomach to rub me at a different angle so he may tickle my sweet spot. My moans and pleas only urge him on, and before I know it I'm falling apart all over his fingers again. A wracking sob leaves my chest, and he finally gives my o poor cunt a break.

He smears my mess across my cheeks, then presses his chest close to my back so he can reach over to lick it off my face. "Is your little cunny finished?" He asks, kissing my cheeks once he's done licking them.

"Never." I barely whisper, my voice hoarse from screaming and moaning in ecstasy. He laughs, positioning his length at my cunt.

"Ready?" He asks. I push my hips back, forcing my self into his length. He gasps, a whine leaving his lips.

"Apparently, you weren't." I smirk. He growls, taking a fistful of my hair and pushing my face into the ground.

"You're such a dirty little whore." I moan at his crude words, matching the rhythm of his thrusts with my hips. He slams into me, over and over, and I reach my hand back to soften his thrusts, but he takes my wrist and pins it against my back.

"Don't touch me." He moans. His hands grip my wrist and waist so tightly I know I'll be bruised by sunrise. He pushes me down so my chest is on the floor, he lets go of my wrist and his hand reaches up and intertwines with my fingers, holding me through my last climax.

"I'm gonna fill you up with so many fucking Blackwood babes."

"Fucking do it then." I urge before he releases himself inside me, thrusting into my cunt with such urgency.

He rolls beside me, but I don't move from being face down on the forrest floor.

He notices, and immediately places a hand on my back, "My Bracken, are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

"No, my lord." I laugh, softly. "But, you've truly tired me this time."

"Let us wash in the rivers and return home."

"Home?" I ask.

"Yes, my love. Let's go home." He kisses my forehead. "Let me take you home."

I stand and we walk and jump into the flowing stream. We laugh as we wash ourselves and play fight, enjoying the most serene moment. The sun rises and the birds sing us their songs.

We didn't know it yet. Perhaps if we had, we would have savored the moment just a bit more. Perhaps, we would never have even returned back to our lands. We should've stayed there forever, in the flowing stream, holding each other, smiling, laughing. We knew peace.

In just a few hours, we would never know it again.

[nrdmssgs]

Oh don't think you should worry about not using perfect German. Fanfics are for fun, seeing German in it is more like a bonus so i think it's fine as long as we can enjoy them! But thanks for the disclaimer :) i am so ready for that drabble btw 🔥 also as i promised a few days ago... May i make a fluff request? Insecure f chubby reader with your version of König. The kinda awkward, sweet, timid guy trying to comfort her. Add your own twist, i trust you with this! Pls ignore if this isn't ok. Thanks :D

Masterlist Comforting series: Soap comforting reader Price comforting reader

Hurt/comfort, fluff

Pairing: König x reader

Summary: Your old friend is happy to spend a free day with you. But one little memory haunts you.

TW: Mentions of bullying, mentions of rejection of ones body image.

The short trill of a smartphone is muffled by your jeans and t-shirt lying on top of it. You keep staring at your reflection in a fitting room mirror. Distant voices, shop ambient music, echoes of steps - you don't hear anything, but your rushing pulse. 

Because right now you are a teenager again. It's first day of school, and you are happy, for the first time genuinely happy to be back. You've grown so much taller this summer, you've got a bit of a suntan and all those incredible new clothes! You just can't wait to meet your classmates as this new beautiful girl, they have never met before! You find familiar faces in the crowd in front of the school, make your way to them and loudly (unusually loudly, but this is the new you, who will never be shy again) say hello. First gaze falls on you, then a second, a third... and then they all turn in your direction. Something inside you shudders and shrinks into a helpless, desperate lump. They all grew up too and overtook you again. You look like a funny chubby baby again compared to them... What about their outfits? You thought you'd only wear something like that at the end of college.

"Wow, look who is adulting here, is that an above knee skirt on you?" You don't like the fake affectionate tone your classmate uses to address you. “But your mother didn’t tell you that you need to grow up, not grow wide for such clothes, sweetheart?”

How many years ago it was? Ten or fifteen already? And it still hurts. You look at your puffy thighs. “Shapeless!” - screams an angry voice in your head. Your gaze lifts to the curves of your belly and waist. “Vulgar! Too much!”. You raise your arms and look at the shoulder muscles stretching limply down. The dress you are trying on right now in a fitting room is so pretty, you are ashamed, you discredit it with your body. It is made not for you, you should have known better than trying on something so beautiful, light and airy. This fabric should flow easily over the body, and not wrap around every fold. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by the plaintive squeak of your smartphone. You take it out from under your clothes and open a chat. “Are you ok? Do you need anything? I can bring you water or some other clothes in the fitting room.” (received 15 minutes ago) “Ah, sorry, it sounded like I'm pressing you. Take your time! Just please let me know, you are ok out there. I'm worrying.” (received 1 minute ago)

You frantically type in an answer, change back into your clothes and rush out of the fitting room. König stands before a pile of dark t-shirts and lazily picks them up one by one. “Oh no, you are not buying one of those here! I could get you a dozen on amazon for a price of one here!” You put on a jolly mask approaching him. “But those are fun! They have little cat footprints on the sides, look!” You start pulling him away from Ts, and he adds with a small smile, “I can always turn it inside out and no one but me will know..."

It's only when you two exit the shop, he understands it. “Wait, and what about that dress?” 

“What's about it?” you take your jacket from his hands and despite hot weather take it on.

“You've wanted it so much, you've been waiting for the day, you could finally get it. Why didn't you buy it?” He desperately tries to catch your hand, to make you go a bit slower and finally face him.

“Na-a-ah, it turned out not that great, so I changed my mind. Forget it, it's no big deal.” You play it cool, because you don't want to let him down. He is in the military, he goes through hell on every deployment, so not letting your insignificant problems affect his mood is the least you could do. 

“But, but you… you…” 

You don't let König go on with his thought and change the subject. For the rest part of the day the two of you wander through the quiet, sleepy from the summer heat streets. Walking in a buttoned jacket in the scorching sun is not easy, but you stubbornly pull him on and on whenever he offers to take it from you. In the evening, you find yourself in the park. He somehow manages to get you on the bench.

"Can I ask you something? Are you feeling well?" His gaze is full of anxiety and concern.

"Of course! I had a great day with a friend, we went out, we had a great time! And I saved him a lot of money by not letting him buy those T-shirts!" You chuckle, but then you see his eyes. "Why are you asking? Is something wrong?" “Well, yes… I'm worried about you. Something happened in that shop, and it eats me from the inside. You barely stopped today to breathe and rest, you refused to have lunch, you torture yourself with this jacket all day, although I can see how hard it is for you. Even now, you're sitting on the very edge of the bench, like there's not enough room for the two of us. You were so happy in the morning, but then... as if someone put out the joyful light inside you. And if it really happened there, in the store - I would like to know what happened. Whoever it was - whatever nonsense they've told you - I want to fix this. Because I hate seeing you silently suffer like that.” As he speaks, blush appears on his face. It's clear, he overthinks again, if his thoughts sound acceptable, being spoken out loud. König is always like that: a kind soul too worried to sound weird. If only he knew, how much comfort he brought you.

“I'm sorry, I'll be ok soon. Promise. It happens sometimes. I know, it's high time I learn to accept myself, it's just… I sometimes understand, how much work lays ahead to be able to finally… love all this.” You lightly squeeze your sides and smile bitterly.

“You mean, nobody said or done anything in the shop? It all happened inside?” His worrying gaze meet yours. And when you nod and apologize for your behavior, he calls you by your name and takes your hand. “Please don't beat up yourself for not feeling well about yourself. I want to show you something, may I? But you'll need to sit on the bench properly. It won't work otherwise.”

You nod and slowly lean back, till you sit fully on the bench. “I know, how it feels, when a small thought ruins everything. One moment you think, how some guy told many years ago, you'll never be a sniper and the next few days you show your worst results on firing range. Or you accidentally drop a mug, it falls and breaks. And all night after that, your parents chastising you for being so clumsy in an endless nightmare. But I have learned a trick, that helps.” 

Without letting go of your hand, he clamps in the fingers of the other hand a crimson bead of the bracelet wrapped around his wrist. “I name every bead and try to remember the names, when I feel down. This one for example is called ‘other people's opinions do not determine how well I shoot’. And this is ‘it was just a mug or plate or a vase, I can always buy a better one’.” 

You listen to him and smile. A trail of warm words, positive affirmations, he always carries with him: that's really wholesome. He lifts your hand and pulls the bracelet from his wrist to yours. "I want you to try. Give one of them a name."

You are thinking. Something that could calm you now... But what could be? König patiently waits, and you feel uneasy from the long pause.

"Let's try together, okay?" He touches one bead, and you feel the warmth of his fingers at your very wrist. "I'd call this 'I'm Enough. I don't have to look different to be loved’. Sounds good?” You look down on the bead, on sunshine playing on its smooth surface, and a smile blooms on your face. König notices that and grins widely. “Ok, now it's your turn!”

You take a next bead, look at it. There is a little scratch on it, which reminds if something, that left a little scratch on your soul a while ago. “This one will be ‘It's ok, it doesn't look on me exactly like on a model from advertising. I am still beautiful just as her’.” “You are more beautiful,” adds König in a soft voice. Then he makes you name another one, then another and another. Some of them are funny, others are deeply personal, there are some reassuring, but still sad. In an hour you reach the last one - big bead on the knot of bracelet. It has many scratches, so first you ask him, what was his name for it. “I'll tell you one day. Just… not now, ok?” He looks down for a moment, but then the smile returns to his face and König adds, “How about we go have dinner? I was too shy to admit it, but i'm starving.”

You feel that hate and fear let go of your mind. And with that comes hunger. “Me too,” you smile, looking at the bracelet on your wrist.

***

A few months later from that day, König is almost finally done with the last step of a big mission, he was deployed for. It was early morning, he and his squadmates headed on the last operation. König leaned back in his seat, looking somewhere up. His fingers involuntarily clutched at the center bead of the bracelet: the same as his old one, but a little darker. You gave him this one. König tried very hard to take good care of your gift, but now his tactical gloves scratched a large bead. His lips, hidden behind a veil, silently repeated the same phrase.

“Ich werde unversehrt zu ihr zurückkehren und den Mut aufbringen, sie um ein Date zu fragen.”

“Ich werde unversehrt zu ihr zurückkehren und den Mut aufbringen, sie um ein Date zu fragen.”

“Ich werde unversehrt zu ihr zurückkehren und den Mut aufbringen, sie um ein Date zu fragen.”*

*Ich werde unversehrt zu ihr zurückkehren und den Mut aufbringen, sie um ein Date zu fragen. - I will return to her unharmed and have the courage to ask her out.

[bentnotbroken1fanfiction]

Sneak peak of the Kidnapped Style fic I'm writing for @kaleidoskuls

Style wakes up slowly, which is probably a good thing, because it gives him time to adjust to the pain his body is in. 

He tries to stretch, to shake out his tingly limbs, but startles when he realizes that he can't. 

His eyes snap open, and he looks around in complete confusion. 

He's shirtless and tied to a chair in a cold, dark, cellar-like room. 

Where the fuck is he? 

And how did he get here? 

The last thing he remembers is leaving Kant at the pool…he was heading straight to the Diner but…obviously he never made it there. 

At first, he thinks that maybe this is just an amped up version of a role play. He and Fadel were kind of working their way through some fun scenes, but there's a few things about this situation that indicate that this is not a part of one of Fadel's kinky plans. 

One being the lack of a heads up, and two being that they'd agreed that drugs were off the table. And by the way his head feels like he'd downed a fifth of his Dad's special tequila and his mouth feels like it's been stuffed with cotton, he's pretty sure he's coming down from being drugged. 

But who the hell could have-

Do you think the police are just going to let them go if we find their boss? Stop trying to think your way out of this, Style. Even if we find out who they work for, this only ends in two ways. 

Kant's voice echoes in his head, and he realizes just who it is that has him. 

It's his boyfriend's boss. The one that hands out the hits.

He doesn't have much time to worry about that though, because as soon as he starts moving and making noise the door opens and a man with glasses and a smartly dressed middle aged woman come into the room. 

“Ah, is our guest finally awake?” The woman says, voice dripping fake sweetness as she approaches him.

Style shifts the best he can in order to gather enough confidence to reply, “Oh? Is this a hotel? If so, I'm definitely giving it 1 star. Your hospitality really needs work, and the accommodations are crap.” 

When the woman smiles, it's sharp. Lethal. It makes Style's skin crawl. 

She looks over at the man. “It looks like we have a funny one on our hands. I didn't think my son was into comedic acts.” 

He can't hold back his reaction. “You're Fadel's mom?”

That doesn't make sense because Fadel said his parents were murdered, and the look in his eyes when he said it….he wasn't lying. 

She doesn't respond, only rakes her eyes over him before glaring and turning away, walking back towards the door. 

“If you make him talk, I'll let you out on the field next time.” She says to the man, who just gives a deep wai and a muttered, Yes, Khun Mae, and then she's gone. 

That was definitely the boss. A boss that refers to her hitman as her fucking sons. 

Now he's alone in the room with the man who looks at him like he's dog shit oj the bottom of his shoe. When he strides closer, Style realizes that he recognizes him. 

“You came to the diner.” He says, “To see Fadel. Who the hell are you people?” 

The other man just frowns and takes off his glasses, tucking them away in his shirt pocket before rolling up the sleeves of his nice dress shirt. 

“I’m the one that asks the questions here." He says before grabbing a handful of Style’s hair. It hurts, but he's had worse. Fadel has pulled it harder. 

“Then ask your questions and get this over with.” He hisses. He knows he probably sounds like a spy. He probably sounds like a cocky asshole fitting the role they believe him to be in. 

But the truth is…he's absolutely terrified. 

He can handle some pain…but torture? He can't handle that. He'll do his best, but he knows himself. He will eventually fold if they hurt him enough. 

He just hopes Fadel goes looking for him before he rats out his best friend and lands him in a seat right next to him. 

“What are your plans with Fadel?” The man asks, digging his fingers into his jaw. 

If it had been Fadel doing it, he would be getting turned on, but since it isn't, Style is only irritated and a little afraid. “To love and cherish him.” He says, partially to be a smart ass, but also because it's the truth. 

But apparently, the man doesn't agree. He lets go, only to viciously backhand him across the face. 

“Why are you spying on him?” 

“I’m not.” He insists, “I like him. Why are you doing this? Are you his family or something?" 

He ignores his question and hits him again. “Who sent you?” 

His lip splits. He can taste the blood on his tongue. “No one. Why would anyone send me to spy on my boyfriend?” 

That's apparently not the right thing to say. 

He brings back his fist and lands a solid punch to his abdomen. Style immediately groans with the force and pain of it. He feels like he's going to vomit. 

“Who sent you to spy on him?” He asks again. 

“Nobody!" He repeats, trying and failing to prepare for the next hit to his stomach. 

“Who are you working for?!” 

“My Dad!! I’m a fucking mechanic!” 

It goes on and on. Style answering the questions with half truths. He keeps Kants name out of his mouth and tries to get this guy to understand that he loves Fadel. He's not whatever or whoever they think he is. 

But no matter what he says or doesn't say, the violence continues, until his right eye swells shut and blood drips down his chin from his nose and shredded lip. He's in so much pain he can hardly stay present. He wants to just float away in his head. 

But then the man puts his hands around his throat and everything comes back online. He is choking him hard, putting in the effort to bring him to unconsciousness, but before he can slip awwy, his body does something stupid. A moan slips out. 

And well, he's starving, tired, and only fucking human. 

The man looks shocked as he releases his hold on him, but then he grins.“Oh? Maybe you have been telling the truth. Maybe you are just Fadel's little slut-”

He spits blood on the man's face. “Fuck you. Only Fadel can call me that.” 

He only gets to see a glimpse of the fury on the guys face before he's hit so hard the chair falls backwards…

And he slips into blissful unconsciousness.