#it's just an extra syllable. and for what

[fordford]

been seeing a lot of greenhorns in the tag asking why it's called fiddauthor and not fordford, so here's the answer: it's because people have been shipping them since before we knew the author's name. pretty much as soon as it was revealed that fiddleford worked with the author people were asking "in a gay way?". most of the content back then was highly speculative, too - ford's existence had not been confirmed yet and a lot of people thought his name was stanley because the whole nameswap thing hadn't been explained yet either. due to the confusion about the character's identity and name, people at the time decided it would be easier to just call it "fiddauthor" and so that's the ship name now. other names are used but that's The Main One

[anomalymon]

I was looking it up because we were curious about if there's a word for it that has more common use and. How has the endogenic community coined thousands of terms but they don't have a word for "another world experienced by a system such as through walk-ins, gateways, or headmate past lives"

Feel fee to toss me something if I'm wrong because there is no way we are the only system in this community to just string together something like "exoworld"

[dragonomatopoeia]

re: the last post i am constantly battling my inner demons because while I Know language changes all the time and we should be conscious of how it's actually used rather than hanging onto prescriptivist ideals, whenever i hear someone say comfortability instead of comfort i have to close my eyes for a second

[mbat]

i wish i could write songs specifically so i could parody hey west covina but about cass tbh

[screampied]

PUFF, PUFF, ASS! s. ryōmen

ৎ୭ sum. puff puff pass, girl — not puff puff ass! you wanted to smoke one last sesh before winter break but sukuna smokes something far sweeter instead - you.

wc. 8.4k

warnings. fem! reader, plug! roommate sukuna, college au, both are in early 20s, unprotected, substance consumption, slooowish burn, virgin! sukuna, switch reader, quickies, pining, sukuna’s a loser fratboy with no game, p whipped sukuna, creampīes, edging, cowgirl, big dick kuna, he lasts 0.5 secs, blōwjobs, dry humping, shotgunning, spīt, dirty talk (he tried), use of "good boy", praise.

“the usual, ‘kuna.”

ah, those three pretty words.

your roommate and all-time favorite plug, sukuna never got tired of hearing it. of course though, not in a million years would he admit the fact—let alone admit that you juuust might be his favorite clientele.

sukuna was the plug.

most of the other students on campus, including you would always buy from him. he was known for selling the best of the fuckin’ best.

despite you having the luxury of sharing a whole dorm with him, he never gave out free handouts, no half off deals, nothing. “what do you mean you won’t be here until january?”

oh shit.

he didn’t like how clingy he sounded.

not one bit.

sukuna mentally grumbles, burying his hands in the pockets of his gray sweats before you respond. “oh, yeah. for break, i’m going on a skiing trip,” and as you’re rambling, his eyes avert toward your lips.

glossed - they brightly shimmered in the flickering dorm room light, and he struggled to focus on what you were even saying.

you spoke every word so sweetly. sukuna even studied the corners of your lips and they’d cutely crease within each syllable—with your brows slightly furrowing at every passing second. “uh- are you even listening, sukuna?”

“yeaah yeah. stupid skiing trip, nice.” he shrugs, feeling a weird feeling bubble up inside him.

with you being gone for two weeks - he’d have no one to annoy, no one to get high with, no one to-

“don’t be a baby. i’m not leaving until in like-” you pause, pulling up your wrist and squinting at your wristwatch. “two hours. in the meantime, we can just have one last sesh together if you want.”

yes, yes, yes!

“fine, whatever.”

it was just an ordinary sunday.

usually, sukuna would be out at some frat party. every year during the winter, there’s this annual gathering before the break where all the years are invited.

you went once during your sophomore year in college with a few friends, and to be honest - it was pretty shitty.

loud crappy music, stale refreshments, the whole college experience shebang.

you stopped attending a while ago, and you probably didn’t really miss much though.

besides if anything—you’d much rather prefer getting high than going to some overrated end-of-the-year party.

“mmh- thanks,” you sigh, desperately needing something to take the edge off.

with finals finally being over, getting blitzed was just what you needed. the two of you sat on the lower spacey bunk bed, and your eyes stared at sukuna’s fingers. he was so focused, claret pupils entirely fixated at the pre-rolled blunt in his hand.

with a near pout, you shrug your shoulders before finishing your sentence, “—and by the way ‘kuna, i can roll one y’know.”

“yeah riiight. last one you rolled was like a kazoo,” he gruffs, snatching a fresh hollowed blunt wrap from his pocket.

from your recent purchases, sukuna always knew your favorite flavor . . cherry rush.

he snickered at the cute ‘lil frown that would soon stretch across your lips, but you knew that was true. sukuna placed the pre-rolled blunt back in his pocket before turning back toward you.

you struggled a bit at the rolling part, but in your mind - you were a pro at taking hits.

“i’ll teach you one day how to master the art of rolling like me. it’ll cost ya extra though, roomie.” sukuna continues, making sure the materials perfectly stuffed inside. he already did the basics.

preparing the flower, chopping down the bud, breaking everything down, and a bunch of other steps. .

it was only a few minutes, but it felt like hours..

sukuna had to mash up the substance a bit, churning it with a tiny metal tool before then using the grinder to flatten everything up inside the wrap.

making sure it’s not too bulky, he then starts sprinkling a bit of the green substance inside the center and all around the other parts of the blunt evenly.

he’s neat and precise, making sure it’s enough for two instead of the usual one.

and finally, sukuna’s rolling it..

“watch me,” he hoarsely instructs, and your hands are placed in your lap. his fingers slither toward one end, carefully tucking a piece of the wrap around the substance. stubby thumbs of his that were melting with a bit of stickiness rolled around the sides. he’s shaping it, molding it into its right size so it’s nice and even. “the shapin’ is always important,” and you could already feel yourself starting to get bored.

just shut up and roll it.

is what your intrusive thoughts were trying to get you to blurt out, but you stayed quiet. as you’re still observing, sukuna slightly sticks out his tongue and starts to lick near the dry cracks.

oh.

you couldn’t lie—whenever you saw sukuna licking at certain parts of blunts whenever you two smoked together, it did something to you.

always, dirty thoughts would plague at the very front of your mind, wondering what else he could do with his tongue.

speaking of, sukuna’s tongue’s super duper long too. you could feel your breath hitching the more you watched, silently admiring how his lashes briefly closed each time he blinked.

you wondered if he could lick-

“ahem.” sukuna rolls his eyes, and he wasn’t even licking it anymore. he’s been stopped.

and now, he’s openly staring dead at you, a pink slit brow raised to further express his annoyance.

“sorry, what?” you reply, feeling a hot wave of embarrassment shiver down your entire spine.

oh girl, you’re so fucked.

he definitely saw you staring.

with a disappointed sigh, sukuna gives the chubby rolled blunt a soft pierce with two of his thumbs. “i said, why do you think i’m licking the blunt? tell me why that step of rolling is important.”

“um-” you pause, your mind not at all thinking about the smoke sesh anymore.

all you were thinking about sukuna’s long pink tongue.

you were squeezing your thighs shut the entire time. your knees were folded, digging into the squishy bed frame before you tried to gather up a good answer.

“you lick the sides to…uh-” you stammer, mind blacking out straight away. “…to get a quick taste before it burns?”

“tch. sometimes i wonder why i even get high with you,” sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose. as he spoke in that same, husky tone—you could hear a bit of laughter trying to suppress from the back of his throat. “no, girl. i’m licking along the dry areas to help moisten it.”

“oh..” you blink, your mind all in the gutter.

the blunt’s earthy scent starts to fill up the dorm within no time.

it’s that same, strong cherry smell that’s always been your favorite. it’s wholly sweet, and the aroma was just so candied in the air that you could almost taste the tartness already on your tongue.

its smell was quite loud - hence why it was always your preferred choice out of his other flavors.

the scent was sweet but the taste was far sweeter, and the wrap never failed to leave you unsatisfied.

“oh,” sukuna mocks your single response, crimson eyes subtly flickering back into a roll once more. for a moment, you could feel sukuna’s gaze shortly taking in your appearance.

like usual, you wore some nameless brand university t-shirt with shorts on.

maybe you’re batshit crazy, horny- hell, maybe even both, but you could’ve sworn sukuna was gawking at your thighs.

your legs—they were neatly folded back as you sat on your knees. a bit of skin poking from your shorts had slight rips in them and he noticed it straight away.

the cute squish of your thighs coming together every few times you sat upright - so so pretty..

“anyways,” he clears his scratchy, itched throat, burying the image of your thighs away in the back of his mind. you were so close to him that he could practically smell the scent of your shampoo. “ah- you remember how to light, right?”

“mhm.” you gave him a nod, leaning in closer.

the fat blunt remained glued against his fingertips that pressed deeply into the sides. you reached near your nightstand to pull out a lighter, bringing it toward his lips.

sukuna’s viewing you closely, and you felt your weak pulse starting to quicken within seconds.

even though it’s just a small, tiny gesture, sukuna tilts his head down further toward you to reach your level.

sexily, you’re met with his red, darkened stare. pink, overlong bangs were already starting to run down his brows, nearly occluding his vision of you before he swipes his hair away from his face with a hand.

with a clicking, ‘flick!’ the flame brightly ignites, and you start to carefully glide the lighter back ‘n forth under the seam.

then, you start to go around the rest of the blunt, making sure all the parts get lit. sukuna watches as you bring the flame toward the very end of the stick. the smell’s getting even stronger, and sukuna’s stare at your decent lightning work gets him intrigued.

there was a sharp silence, and the only things that could have been heard were outside the dormitory. continuous chatter of other roommates and some pop songs playing in the ambience.

once you two start to actually smoke — you’re both taking turns, sat next to each other and allowing the euphoric high to slowly take over.

puff, puff, pass..

it was simple.

the two of you each got two tokes. since sukuna rolled, it was etiquette that he took the first few hits - then you.

“ugh,” you land on your back against the springy bed, drawing in a sharp breath. your lungs were heavy, and your chest slumped once you started to absorb the lemony puffs of air.

each sucked breath was deep, and every few seconds, you allowed yourself to recuperate from the strong hits.

“been a while,” sukuna speaks again, his voice dripping with a rasp. his throat - it sounds almost grating.

he lies his head back against the bed with you too, slightly craning his head to face you. “gettin’ high with you, i mean.”

passing the blunt back to him, you sleazily grin. “don’t tell me you’re gonna miss me.”

“tch. don’t be stupid, never said that,” he instantly replies, feeling his cheeks heat up a bit.

you talked so sly, and he noticed how your eyes were starting to droop already. sukuna’s jagged breathing hitched once your head softly thumped against his shoulder.

damn.

“it’s just annoying,” he continues, taking a second to inhale through his nose. a cloud of smoke exits through his nostrils and it’s always satisfying to witness.

your head rubs against the fleece of his sweatshirt before he lets out another dull inhale. once that short milisecond of tunnel vision occurs in his sight, sukuna exhales again—his shoulders slackening.

“ ‘m not gonna have anyone to smoke with for two weeks. and yeah, i could get high by myself but it’s… better with you.”

oh?

you glance up at sukuna’s whose eyes are glued to you. there were faint, noticeable bags underneath his eyes as his eyelids started to become heavy.

his entire face — it’s turning flustered once he realized what the actual fuck he just said.

shit. shit. shit.

“oh… my god,” you cheekily grin, grabbing the burning blunt from him. inhaling for two seconds, you place it between the arc of your fingers. “ ‘kuna, you could’ve just said so. well, if that was the case, i could’ve just canceled my flight and booked for tomorrow morning.”

“really?”

“uh- no, i was joking. do you know how much plane tickets cost? in this economy? please.”

sukuna rolls his eyes at your sass before grumbling. “whatever,” and he’s watching your hits turn into more than just two.

he raises a brow, staring at your pursed lips that were twitching every second as you blew out excess smoke. “oi- stop hoggin’ it. you always do this shit.”

“make me-”

he scoffs, narrowing puffy eyes at you before reaching over.

sukuna’s beefy arm extends to grab the blunt but coincidentally enough - he ends up falling flat on your chest.

you look down at him and there’s a loooong, eerie silence.

nothing was exchanged except intimate, prolonged glances and a subtle loud silence. sukuna gawked at you with fiery pupils occasionally flickering toward the rolled stick that was tightly gripped against your fingers.

he then looks at your lips… so shiny, you rubbed them against each other once you noticed his gaze before taking one more hit.

he stays quiet, watching you inhale before exhaling. “i didn’t know the blunt was on my ches-”

“shut up,” sukuna carps, cutting you off with a sharp tone. he leans in closer—and at that, you start to feel the speed of your heartbeat accelerate. sukuna brings a dry thumb toward your chin, gingerly smearing a circle around your skin before huskily murmuring. “fuck- can i . .”

“do it,” you breathlessly reply, already knowing what he was trying to say. the intense high was swarming you both mildly, and your senses were heightening from each elated breath being drawn.

you didn’t have to tell him twice.

instantly, sukuna’s lips crash firmly against yours.

it’s so quick - you barely have time to react, moaning once his tongue dips inside of your mouth. swiftly, sukuna snatches the blunt away from your hand, making his way on top of you.

your arms wrapped around his torso—pulling him closer as you both shared rushed, airy breaths. the cherry flavor lingers in both mouths, tangling with glutinous, sappy saliva and all. “mmgh-” you start to recline back, your left leg slinking around his slim torso.

a throaty groan scratches out of sukuna’s tongue as you hear the occasional ‘claps’ of both lips smacking into each other. every few seconds, it’d pitch louder and louder, and sukuna just couldn’t help himself.

just from his hungry lips, you could tell he’s been wanting to do this for the longest.

he just didn’t want to admit it.

“god-” he grunts against your lips, the tip of his nose softly rubbing against your skin.

yet again, foreheads were stacked right on top of each other, and he felt remains of smoke waft back into his mouth. you tasted so sweet, sweeter than anything he’s ever smoked by a long shot.

“mmh- sukuna,” you moaned, feeling his body in between your wrapped legs starting to grind into you.

it’s slow - his sweats were so soft, nearly tickling against your thighs before it then rubs against something very hard.

that ‘something’ was prodding through his grey pants and he prowls lowly into your neck, sucking against your freely exposed skin. “if.. you wanted to hump me all this time, should’ve just said so.”

“ugh-” he glares, the pink shade gradually painting over his vexed expression clearly betraying his annoyance.

sukuna was a big guy, and the size difference was very much apparent.

his body..

it towers over you, even with you being nearly smushed underneath him. his hips pathetically rolled into you steadily, and he grunts again but this time it’s huskier..

as your legs continued to cage him in with its secure grasp, you feel him stop. “fuck!” his head falls into your chest, and you could see a pout shortly tugging against his lips.

your brows twist into a furrow as you feel his body still itself. sukuna’s hardened bulge still rests between the front of shorts — but it’s . . wet.

heavy, deep pants could be heard from him and then that’s when you started to feel a damp splotch soak near the center of his sweatpants. as you’re still trying to catch your breath, you let off a sheepish, “heh.. ‘kuna.. did you just-”

“yeah, i fuckin’… came,” sukuna grumbles, slit brows contorting as he spoke with such distaste.

his pointed chin rests between the soft valley of your chest before he pinches his forehead. “look- i’m a virgin. i’ve never-”

with a soft-hazed expression, you pat his head. “it’s okay. it happens dummy. don’t uh- feel bad about that,” and his embarrassment leisurely subsides.

you obviously weren’t expecting him to say that.

you figured otherwise.

on campus, sukuna’s highly well-known and very popular. he’s usually seen around frat clubs and parties but wasn’t much social now that you thought about it.

he kept his circle small, and with you being his roommate he grew to get sort of used to your presence whenever the two of you smoked together . . sort of.

“just.. let me,” you quietly reply, shifting your body before getting on top of him. sukuna huffs faintly, placing the blunt near the nearby nightstand before staring at you.

now, you’re straddling him with your perked ass sitting directly above his abrupt cum stain that bled through his sweats. “is this okay? if you don’t feel comfortable we can just finish our sesh.”

“it’s fine,” sukuna swallows, admiring your body before him. even the shorts you wore were such a tease, maybe an ever bigger tease than you.

his eyes ran across the fabric, watching as it perfectly exposed just a nice amount of your ass.

he’s still so hard, and you sitting right on it was only making him ten times more needy. “i want- i want you, screw the damn blunt.”

“okay,” you coo out - your voice sounding like mere heaven.

as sukuna takes a gulp, the roused tent in his sweats pokes out further the more you shimmy your hips around him. closing the distance between you both—you place a wet kiss down the slope of his neck.

he shivers at your touch with one hand trying to reach toward your swaying waist. with a soft ‘whack!’ he scoffs, feeling you swat his hand away. “ah, no touchin’ ‘kuna. you want me to do all the work, remember?”

through gritted teeth, he snarls out a stubborn, “finee,” and he’s already feeling himself starting to melt through his sweats.

you being on top of him - straddling him, it made sukuna sweat bullets. “just- hurry up. ‘m so fuckin’ hard..”

“yeah, i can feel it,” you hush, fishing a hand near his sweatpants.

with a single hand, you yank on the knotted white tie and it quickly becomes loose.

sukuna’s whole physique…

you got a glimpse of his boxers that peeked above his waistline and fuck..

he was ripped, jacked in every way. the ideal fratboy.

the sharpened line of his pelvis looked like it could prick the tip of your finger. “mmh,” you hold in a breath, swerving your hips against his bulged crotch. “are you always this hard whenever we smoke together?”

“haaah? don’t be . . ridiculous,” he pauses, his head tilting back. “fuck- yeah, like thaaat,” sukuna’s voice slows down, and it pitches so low that his mere voice made you throb.

the strip of his boxers was a darkened shade of red, complimenting his maroon eyes. “god- you’re bein’ a tease. just fuck me already, girl.”

as your hand reaches near his boxers, you feel his body shake - erupting violently like an active volcano.

it’s a cruel shudder, with multiple shivers running down his slouched spine as you continue to move on him. your hand was delaying the damn inevitable, taking its time before finally slipping inside his ruined boxers.

“let me touch you- c���mooon,” sukuna continued to speak, his gruff whiny babbles falling on deaf ears. you raise your chin, gifting the bottom of his chin with another kiss. silent ‘mwah’ after ‘mwah’ and it only makes him more frustrated.

as your dominant hand starts to get a good feeling—you wrap your palm around his now pulled-out shaft and he groans.

sukuna’s throat bobs instantly, and you could feel an excited vein prod down a side of his thick cock. “f.. fuck, keep touchin’ it. touch me.”

“you still wanna touch me?” you murmur hotly, his high, drooping eyes filled with cloudy mist returning your glance.

he’s so eager too.

sukuna responds with a nod, coral brows raising in anticipation. “mhm, fine. go ahead.”

with a rough hitch of his breath, sukuna’s callused textured palms finally attach their way toward your hips.

he’s gentle yet firm, rocking you back into place before he moans at the tepid skin-to-skin contact.

you look down at his exposed cock and it’s just so pretty..

sukuna’s shaft was covered with veins - veins, veins galore. your thumb plays with a bit of foreskin, watching it peel back to expose the head and he shuddered from your touch once more.

“mmh..” he sighs deeply, your tender touch nearly hypnotizing him. the top part of his cock’s glans bruised with brightened shades of pink and rosy, hot red.

sukuna’s ridge was tapered too, and you felt yourself sporadically throb once between your open thighs as your curious thumb glided over the long hooking curve.

to top it all off, it’s got a lean to it too.

sukuna’s dick was so big that it could barely hold itself up. you watched as it sort of drooped over.

a tiny, attractive detail that made you release an elated sigh. as sukuna still feels your hand tending to his shaft, he lets out a low grunt. “don’t . . hah- know why we never did this before.”

“because you’re a chicken.”

“tch. girl fuck you.”

“no, fuck you. and i’m going to, relax pretty boy.”

♡ ♡ ♡

you were definitely somethin’ to be reckoned with.

sloppy, chaste kisses created a vertical path down his bare chest. sukuna held up his sweatshirt with one hand as your lips glued against his rock-hard abs that were all on display. you kissed down, down, down..

his abs were just perfectly sculptured - akin to a greek god with how they were just so naturally carved into chiseled, muscular pecs.

the cool air continued to set against his skin as he kept his sweatshirt raised. as your bridge of kisses resumed—sukuna groaned, preparing to sigh once your lips trailed and trailed . . until they eventually stopped at his dick.

it stood tall - slightly tilting forward with how heavy was. squinting a bit, you stared at the tiny hairs of pink that scattered around his stuffed base.

“is this alright?” you mumble through glittery glossed lips, your words so soft it sound like a raspy whisper. his tip was still covered with wetted drips of pre, tearing away at the sides with various white globs.

“ffuuuck- yeah, just do whatever. use your mouth, whatever you’re supposed to do,” sukuna grunts, feeling his core stomach tightening.

the two of you were sitting on the bed with him lying fully down. sukuna’s pants were pulled off now and he’s feeling his dick twitch every time your warm breath fans against his tip.

“mhm, okay,” you reply, rolling out your dripping, wet tongue. sukuna’s eyes immediately lock against you, peering as your tongue hungrily swirls its way around his pulsating crown.

slurrrp after slurrrp, you’re licking up the runny droplets of pre that were racing down all sides.

sukuna shivers, mumbling out a faint ‘ohhh shit’ before drawing in a long breath. each time he did, it felt like his lungs were being pinched from the inside.

you took his breath away,

figuratively and literally.

after all the times he’s smoked, nothing could ever compare to the way your tongue made him feel.

“s.. shit,” sukuna groans. your hand’s wrapped around his dick, and it was a bit limp. it only took you a few seconds (which felt like hours) to lap up his pre-cum before sliding your salivating tongue toward his mushroomy tip.

it’s so colorful - flushed with a burning, bright pink near the very capped head.

you even give it a little kiss, moaning once translucent strands of his pre creates a sloppy concoction with your saliva.

so filthy..

the two words that ran through his mind as he watched your plump-shaped lips.

as you continued, sukuna’s hand found its way toward the top of your head, ogling as you then puckered your lips.

slowly, he stares as your mouth opens up a bit to where it’s agape. you make your way down with his tip brushing past the parched roof of your mouth. he gutturally moans, feeling the scaly-like texture greeting his cock before nodding.

“mmh- your throooat . . feels so fuckin’ good,” he tilts his head back, adam’s apple still bobbing through the center of his larynx.

with sukuna being so big, you couldn’t exactly fit all of it inside.

with your hand still gripped around his hefty-made shaft, your scrunched wet lips gradually made their way to where your fingers rested.

your head’s starting to bob bob bob, and sukuna’s grunting his head off. the slippery, risqué noises were just downright wet - you’re gripping his cock before he feels you angle it further down your throat for a better stretch.

“mmph-” you let off a muffled whine, making sure to wet around his entire cock.

sukuna’s thighs already felt so heavy - they glued down to the bed as your head went up and down, and he just couldn’t look away from you.

the two of you were always smoking together when you both could’ve been doing this instead?

that same question — it kept running through sukuna’s head like a loop.

your mouth.. it kept sukuna’s dick so warm, so wet..

it was just something about the way your head bobbed with those pretty lashes of yours sticking to your eyelids. even your lids were starting to sag, preparing to snap shut at any moment.

your raving rhythm had him getting dizzy within seconds, and sukuna gave your hair a light tug.

“ngh-” you grump, your head pulling forward and it’s almost cute.

sukuna pauses, sheepishly scratching his head. “shit, sorry.. was i-”

“harder, dummy,” you interrupt his apology, saliva dribbling down the center of your chin as your lips briefly departed from his sheen-covered cock. sukuna moans at the lewd sight of you and how you were slobbering all over his cock.

this was the type of image he’d probably fantasize about whenever you weren’t in the dorm and he was by himself. “yank it.”

“eh. f.. fuckin’ kinky girl- fine,” and sukuna manages to grab a good amount of your hair. giving it a nice solid yank like you wanted, your head jerks forward. “mmng-” his nostrils flare for the second time.

sukuna grunts, hearing the wet little ‘ptou’ sounds of you spitting on his tip and lapping it right up.

you’re sucking him off — making him bite his lip, and he starts fucking back against your face until there’s even more glossy drool pouring down your chin.

much to your surprise, sukuna starts to raise his hips into your mouth, hearing strangled moans leave from your throat time and time again. after a few sloppy thrusts of his rolling hips, you took a second to start kissing around his dick again.

torrid, wet kisses ghosted all around his dick and sukuna could already feel his body starting to levitate from your wet lips.

your head - it’s similar to a bobblehead with the way it goes up ‘n down, movements entirely unpredictable.

you use your hand to slovenly twist around his shaft as you suck harder, moaning hoarsely once his bruised tip slams its way against the back of your throat.

it greets your fleshly uvula, and you let off a sweet gargled sound that makes sukuna’s dick twitch.

the single vein that runs down his cock dances against your tongue and you hum, batting your lashes.

he could never deny at all at how pretty you looked.

your cheeks were all puffed - stuffed all because of his dick that’s plugging in and out of your mouth.

sukuna lets off husky grunt after grunt at the back of your tongue skimming over his dick’s top. you’re getting his entire dick wet, not caring at all at how rivulets of your spilling saliva streamed down your chin. not just your chin, but near the cracks of your mouth.

your lips were perfect - they were stretched all out, shaped into a wide circular ‘o’ as you continued to take him down your tight throat.

“hng-” you’d moan, snaking a hand between your legs. sukuna gasped, eyeing you closely as you brought a few fingers of your own toward your puffed, neglected cunt.

you’re soaked, all through your panties too. you reached inside of your shorts, past your underwear before giving your pussy a loving squeeze.

as your mouth’s still occupied, you swiped a thumb over your pulsating clit that’s sobbing for attention.

“f.. fuck, didn’t know you were this nasty, roomie,” sukuna mutters, almost in awe at how you were just playing with yourself while he’s inches deep down your throat.

the downright dirty, racy noises echoed through the thin, dry walls of the dorm — and you prayed no one would hear.

to be specific, you prayed no one would hear sukuna because he was just groaning his lungs out as if he was belting an F5 high note. his voice indeed sounded rough, but every now ‘n then you heard a few cute cracks from your tongue work.

your head still bounces up and down, etching the tip of your tongue down a lightning-shaped vein.

sukuna’s stretchy girth damn near pried your mouth open even more on its own. you’re making sure not to use teeth, moaning at the feeling of your own fingers maneuvering circles against your clit. “ugh- good girl.. good- fffuck,” sukuna praises, feeling his tip stimulate way back toward your uvula for probably the umpteenth time.

he’s in alllll the way, watching as you breathe through your nose. “hah- throat’s just.. perfect for me. thaaaat’s … it, suck it, roomie. suck my.. p- penis.”

oh.. he can always work on dirty talk later.

sukuna’s cock was still sensitive - so much so that he doesn’t even realize that his orgasm’s approaching yet again. it’s a toe-curling feeling that threatens his ego, and a whine slips out.

you’re just so unapologetically sloppy - making out with his tip, slurping up the sides that rained with glittery beads of your spit.

“ahh,” you pop out his dick from your mouth, running your tongue around his tender frenulum.

right there, that moment right there was all it took for sukuna to cum and you knew it too.

“f- fuck, oh fuuuck, ‘m fuckin’ cummin’,” sukuna bites down on his jaw, fingers still dug into your scalp. your head sinks back down as his plump head pounds into your throat before you remove your fingers from the inside of your shorts.

first the tight shortness of breath comes — then, comes the actual release.

sukuna’s shooting down your throat, sprinkling creamy drops of cum on your flatly laid tongue as you look at him with those pretty, fogged eyes.

he already took the initiative to pull his leaking shaft out of your mouth, softly starting to then spank his tip against your greedy tongue.

“mmh-” you hummed again, a purr caught in your throat. it’s raw - and voice sounded a bit raspy, which had of course aroused him even more. this was unlike anything he’d ever experienced, and as your tongue lays flat — you nod your head. “good, keep hittin’ your tip against my tongue, mhm.”

“tch..” sukuna kisses his teeth, complying with your sinful request.

your lashes prettily fluttered as he’s still spurting out milky strips onto your tongue. the taste was bittersweet, and judging by the pout on your lips once he removed his cock away from the flatness of your tongue, you only wanted more.

panting heavily, sukuna’s abs clench through his fraternity-made sweats. “what?”

“c’mere,” you breathe, every breath you take becoming more strained as air tries to fill into your lungs. sukuna leans his head down to where you were, and his eyes immediately land on the remnants of cum that dribble a bit near the corner of your lip. “lick it off me.”

“hah- you’re a . . nasty little roommate.” sukuna snickered, a hand gently wrapping around the back of your neck. he pulls you in, pressing his lips into yours at full speed.

both lips were like speeding cars — they rammed into each other, the turbo being both lips quickly slamming against ajar, opened mouths.

sukuna grunts, vehemently running his tongue around the side of your mouth that’s covered with a few pearly tears of his cum. the sourly sweet taste again, makes him moan in your mouth, feeling your teeth playfully nip near his bottom lip.

as foreheads forevermore pressed against each other, sukuna drags his tongue near your chin which is also covered with sleek wet slicks.

as sukuna blindly guides his lips back towards your mouth, the open-mouthed kiss lasts for a while, to say the least. he even started sucking on your tongue, savoring the treacly cherry poppin’ taste that scattered all over your tastebuds.

you were a new high sukuna didn’t mind smoking.

♡ ♡ ♡

sukuna was still struggling to breathe - every breath felt more and more raspy with each singular puff.

pink, puffed lips of his were all swollen from your filthy make-out sesh. also though, his dick - his tip specifically, felt like it was on fire.. and the veiny sides were already starting to dry up with pasty splotches of cum.

you had to admit, sukuna looked kinda cute like this..

submissively underneath you with a pout, dripped in sweat everywhere on his body, sinewy muscles tensing with his cock just aching for more..

sukuna’s pink hair was unkempt and ruffled, messed up, and a tiny bit matted.

his once cocky and arrogant ego thrown was straight out the window all because of your throat and the way your raucous hips made him cum through his sweatpants.

sukuna knows you, and he knew you’d never let him live that down for as long as you two were roommates.

“your hoodie,” you bring a thumb above your vaguely dripping chin, smearing it around your sheeny lips. sukuna’s still laid back, and you’re now hovering over his sensitive cream-covered tip. “can i wear it while i ride you?”

“pft. no, it’s a frat-”

“kuna.”

“ughh- fine. better not ruin it,” he grumbles with a glowering scowl, raising his arms.

you help him take off the piece of clothing before putting it over your head, pulling down your t-shit from underneath.

as you do so, sukuna watches intently, feeling yet another vein prod against the right side of his dick. it was just something about seeing you in his clothing, straddling him too.

you’re wearing his fleecy-made frat hoodie as if it was your own and fuck did you look good in it.

sukuna’s breath nearly choked him as he openly stared at you, noticing how it was a bit oversized and practically covered over a nice portion of your thighs. “lie back more.” you utter, a hand grabbing the shared blunt that still rested idly on the nightstand. you’d almost forgotten about it.

right away, sukuna leaned himself back against the lopsided cushioned pillows that squished behind him.

there was just enough room to where your head didn’t hit the bottom of the top bed stacked above.

your hand grabs his hefty curved cock, aligning it against your sopping entrance before pausing. “tell me if it’s too much,” you mumble, bringing the stout blunt toward your lips.

sukuna’s completely shirtless now - and it suddenly gets so quiet that you hear him gulp in anticipation.

“j- just fuck me already,” he prowls rashly, his words turning into an impatient hiss once his beefy arms wrap around your torso.

with an ‘oof,’ you end up landing flat into his chest.

sukuna’s poor creamy tip was crying - it was starting to sob from the very reddened tip with rivulets of precum.

the wait was antagonizing - you were antagonizing.

he just wanted to be inside you, to feel what it’s really, really like.

sukuna fantasized about this exact scenario in more ways than he could count. he was far too stubborn to ever admit that he was too shy to actually be intimate with someone.

but with you, it only felt right.

“let me take another hit first-” you giggle, seeing the glare forming on his face. “geez, okay, okay.”

sukuna kept his eyes on you as you placed the cherry-flavored blunt in between your teeth.

it’s still securely rolled and fat - and you felt one of his hands creeping toward your ass within no time.

you steal another bit anyway,

and with a single addicting puff, a gust of wind whirls its way into your lungs and down your passageway. “f- fuckk..” you sigh, one hand positioning his teary tip against your drooling, drooling slot.

a cloud of smoke emits from your mouth once you breathe out, and sukuna sucks in a raspy drag. “mmg- hurry the fuck up,” he clenched down on his jaw tightly, bottom lip thoughtlessly quivering.

he’s so sensitive—with endorphins crashing through his veins, they sent rocketing shockwaves all down his spine. your cunt was just dangerously slick, and he knew you were teasing just by the way you rubbed your pussy back ‘n forth against his poor cum-dripping cockhead.

“hah- fuckin’ . . put it in- ngh-”

“ask nicely.” you whisper, wrapping a hand around his thick throat.

oh.

sukuna would’ve probably been lying if he said that didn’t turn him on.

your wet cunt was gradually sliding itself against his cock that rested against his tummy.

a big hand then grips onto your bare right ass cheek before he growls under his breath.

“fuck me, or else.”

“no.”

“fuck me, or else…please.”

“still no. also, speak up.”

sukuna glares at your audacity, seeing a small simper preparing to crease against your lips before he sighs in defeat. you were probably even more stubborn than him..

his shoulders slump before he clicks his tongue, clearing his throat. “okaay, roomie. you win- fuck. please, ride me. i- i need it,” and for a moment there, its a bit of vulnerability in sukuna’s tone.

his baritone-pitched voice, it cracks and you could see his left eye twitching.

you’re killing his pride.

but part of that made him more aroused.

“i need . . you.” he concludes, shaky labored breaths leaving from his lips. sukuna groans, feeling you slide a hand down his hardened chest.

the tips of your padded fingers circle his pecs, outlining each vein that decorated his sculpted body.

sukuna was like a candle melting from just your blazing touch. his body was the wax and your fingertips were the flame. his hoodie that you wore only made the entire scene sexier too.

he allowed his crimson gaze to follow toward your chest. the three-letter logo of the fraternity he was in finely stitched against the fabric. it hugged your body flawlessly, and his eyes never left your frame, not even for a minute.

“good boy,” you hum, hearing him nearly choke at your praise.

good boy.

sukuna’s ears perked before he groans, hearing the long-awaited squelch of your pussy ‘slap’ down on him.

your warmth from the inside surprises him, and he whiiiiines out a sweet, elongated mewl of your name. “ugh- fuck,” sukuna hisses, feeling you sink yourself down.

it’s a tight fit at first with an even bigger stretch!

sukuna’s rounded tip alone could barely lodge its way inside, and you had to use both hands just to guide it in the right direction. with the blunt still buried underneath your teeth, you blow smoke in his face. “mmph- open your mouth,” you airily mumble.

taking in the sugary scent—sukuna moans, bringing his lips apart.

once you’re starting to move, it’s over -

with your head going closer toward his face, you take the rolled stick from your lips to blow more smoke… this time, into his mouth.

your hips started to wind up, and he was already bottomed out inside. “taste it,” you whisper, feeling sukuna’s questing tongue already trying to swash around the inside of your cheek.

smoke pours into the right sukuna’s mouth, traveling within both pairs of full lungs before he kisses you deeply.

you’re each sharing smoke between twisted tongues and it’s so filthy..

your warm breath continues to slide against his sukuna’s—feeling his tongue eagerly dip its way inside your mouth.

the sweetened taste of cherry lingers against your buds and his, and between sloppy kisses, you moan. “mhh- there we go, good. just hold my hips again.”

“f.. fuck,” sukuna clicks his tongue, drowsy eyes already rolling back in such immense pleasure.

your pussy had such power - power that even he couldn’t handle because he felt like the entire bed was about to snap into two.

your hips had sukuna hysterical, and he starts fanning himself too. “p- phew, shiiit..” he groans, pink brows curving into a desirous furrow.

you’re swerving, tightly gripping back against his cock like velcro as you started to cling onto the bed’s railing for better leverage. “damn- goddamn, fuuuck me then.”

the high surrounds you both and it’s just pure bliss..

it was like a trip you didn’t want to end, and sukuna felt like he was floating every time your ass wetly slammed back down onto his lap. you’re making his head spin in the best way possible, dozens of gears turning in his empty brain.

“haah- ‘kuna,” you’d moan, hot breath landing against his chin and tickling the tiny hairs that stick against his skin. you’re clenching down on him from the inside, hearing every sticky plap! of skin clash amongst each other.

sukuna was a bit awkward with his hands - they didn’t know where to go.

one moment, they’re glued to your hips and the next, they’re traveling down your thighs. his favorite part though, was your ass.

as you continued to move, sukuna couldn’t help but thumb a few clammy fingers toward the sides of your jouncing rear.

harshly - he gives it a needy squeeze before spanking it, hearing the cute gasping whines drag from your throat.

he’s getting the hang of it.

“c- careful,” you wheeze, watching as he’s taking a puff now. sukuna’s nude chest was already starting to gloss gloss gloss with gallons of sweat. sure—you’ve seen him at the gym but never this sweaty.

with your arms tossing over his tensed shoulders, your weeping cunt flops right against his cock with a few sloppy single thrusts, earning a loud grunt from him. “now ‘m really startin’ to think you’re in love with m-”

“just…shut up.” sukuna grumbles, silencing you with another deep kiss. it’s rough - and out of the many, many kisses you shared with him tonight, this felt more . . different.

sweet, pathetic whimpers elicited from you as your ass repeatedly whacked against his pelvis. sukuna’s lean cock sloppily digs its way through your cunt and you squealed at each vigorous curve.

riiiight thereeee-

he’s found the spot and he didn’t even know it.

your cute little shriek was all that told him though, because as his teeth were sharply striking against yours—he hit that same beloved g-spot again, and again, and again..

“o-ooh!” your back prettily arches like a cat, tangled colorless strands of saliva reluctantly pulling away from each pair of lips.

sukuna’s tip was vast and huge, it easily ran through the taut barrier of your entrance and you drool every time he kisses near your clit.

it’s just so tender..

your pupils were starting to enlarge with your eyes crossing. sukuna’s got the same eyes too from the overwhelming high… but his eyes were a bit bloodshot.

your hips were just so nasty, and he’s grunting every time your sopping pussy sucks him in before spitting him right back out, then in, then out again — a repeated loop of pure fuckin’ filth.

“mmn- ‘m gonna cum,” you whined, gasping once sukuna’s hands grabbed your waist. you both exchanged a look of utter blitzed lust, and sukuna darkly exhaled. your hips buckled in and out, in and out until your hips were just stuttering over him. “k- keep hittin’ me there, baby~ fuuck-”

baby.

sukuna felt his cheeks heat up - the small pet name making him wonder if the two of you were really more than just smoke buddies, more than just roommates..

“hng- me too,” sukuna rasps, feeling the sultry head of his cock burning up to such a smoldering degree.

he’s not just hot there—but all damn over.

you’re maintaining your rapid pace, moaning at the nerves pulsing through your body that steadily got provoked by sukuna’s deep, pivotal thrusts. “god- so fuckin’ perfect. ride me.. hah- ride it like you own it then, ugh-”

your continuous bouncing on sukuna’s lap even has his eyes rolling back too. it’s undeniably sexy, and you felt the sticky grip of his thumbs starting to lessen its hold against your rocky waist.

sukuna’s cock was starting to stiffen within seconds and your cunt was just so swollen, dribbling from every weeping orifice with syrupy amounts of juices.

it’s an all-around mess, and not before long, the smell of your own arousal mixes in with the feeling of your highly anticipated fervor..

the entire dorm was clouded - fogged, bathed in a mix of all scents. scents of pleasure, of cherry, and lots ‘n lots of sweat.

it was hard to see anything except for the two of you and the windows were just covered with steam.

your thighs practically glued to sukuna’s, and as his dick’s still pumping in and out of you, you let off a clamoring squall.

right then - that’s when it happens.

you cling onto him steadfastly, sensuously bucking your animalistic hips into him weakly as your body starts to slow. everything happens in almost slow motion - and if it was one thing for sure, your pussy had sukuna hypnotized.

sukuna’s angered cockhead swabs its way around your beloved g-spot about three more times before he groans too.

much louder than you, and he suppressed his nose (or at least tried to) by delicately biting into your shoulder. your skin’s softness had his tongue hungry, and he was lapping at your skin until it was turning wet all because of him..

the blunt ended up falling out of his mouth, landing on the wooden floor with a faint ‘thump!’

but sukuna could care less though-

he had far more important things to care about,

like how he was shooting literal blanks inside of you, painting your pretty clamping walls with his ivory-white color that hugged him oh-so tight.

sukuna’s gutturally groaning in your ear, moving his mouth away from your shoulder while leaning against your cheek.

you both came at the same time and it almost didn’t even feel real.

your teeth shatter as your hips finally stop moving, and sukuna falls back against the bed.

you’re whimpering loudly, creaming all down his cock as your body’s met with abrupt currents of rippling waves.

instead though—the only wave was your orgasm, crashing down down down..

“ugh-” he moans, lips quivering once more once he feels such wads spitting out of his tip.

it comes out so slowly, thin ropes of cum that leisurely bubble into pearly ribbons of stripes.

sukuna’s heart’s beating out of his chest - pound after pound so loud that he hears the melody through his ears like speakers.

as he’s still trying to get over his most recent finish—his first instinct was to wrap a burly arm around you.

you’re caught off guard by the sudden gesture, but you don’t complain.

he’s still snugly inside so deep, flooding your pussy with a feverishly hot batch of cum that even starts to ooze down between your legs.

you’re both breathing stiffly, sharing labored delayed pants before sukuna cups your chin. “what... are. we.”

“what?” you blink.

sukuna deadpans, a chastened pout compressing his lips before he brings a sloppy two-second kiss to your mouth.

you return it, quietly moaning at the stickiness currently slimed between your cracked-open thighs.

“i don’t.. know,” sukuna pants, bringing a palm near his forehead to wipe a sheet of perspiring sweat away. “this.. us- whatever.. this is,” he waves a hand around to exaggerate. “friends- er- smoke friends don’t just… casually cum in each other.”

“yeah, that’s true,” you jeer, leaning in while sukuna’s still buried swollen balls deep. inching close, you kiss his neck before sweetly whispering. “maybe we’re more then just friends and maybe you’re more than just my plug.”

sukuna scoffs. “hmph. well- you’re still payin’ by the way.”

with an eye roll, you reach near your burgundy-colored nightstand. with a loud ‘whiiir’ it opens, and you pull out a twenty dollar bill of what was the usual price of your purchases.

a bit overpriced but again, you didn’t have the energy to complain.

not when you were so stuffed - leaking with sukuna’s cum drizzling out of your cunt.

“here.” you hand him the crumpled-up dollar bill. sukuna takes it, and his entire face is just flushed.

for once — you see actual color in his usually stoic, emotionless face. who knew it was all because of you and your hips.

sukuna grunts something under his breath, watching as you slide your panties and shorts back on. scarlet eyes did a slow pan from up to down at your body, glancing at his hoodie that you still had on before you grabbed your suitcase underneath your desk.

“wha- you’re leaving?”

“yeah, i’m gonna miss my flight.” you reply, watching sukuna’s lips form into the nth pout of the night. two hours went by so quick, he forgot all about your dumb trip.

not to be dramatic (except sukuna probably was being dramatic) but two weeks without you felt like an eternity.

especially with how good you just made him feel, the replay of the entire scene that just occurred had his mouth shamelessly watering.

going toward the side of the bed where sukuna lay, you press one final wet kiss against his lips.

he grunts, leaning into your tender touch, gasping once your free hand gives his twitching cock a few ‘goodbye’ pumping strokes.

“mmg- don’t go.” you heard him grumble between your lips.

with a soft wet ‘smack’ — both lips hesitantly depart, and you whisper against his ear before leaving. “i’m keeping the hoodie by the way.”

[dravidious]

You're very very very neato

Finally started watching Dragon Pilot today and it's okay so far I guess, but the dubbing choices made me SO MAD! In both versions the dragons are called "Organic Transformed Fliers", or OTF for short. But apparently the dubbing team doesn't know what an acronym is because they always have the characters say the entire phrase "Organic Transformed Flier(s)" every time. Also in both versions, the titular pilots of the dragons are called "D-Pi" which I'm sure sounds perfectly fine in Japanese, but why the fuck would you shorten pilot to pi in English? Not even DP, D-Pi! That sounds awful! The subtitles on the Japanese version even lengthen it to D-Pilot because that sounds way better in English! And then there's the fact that some of the lines are just. Different. For no apparent reason. Not majorly so, it's nowhere near 4-Kids levels, but like. Why would you make the characters say different things?? Overall I have no faith in the dubbing team so I'm watching the subtitled version.

[supersumc]

Just about everyone: FUCK

I, an intellectual: FECUNDATE

[cherry-hulu]

— Ride It Like A Rodeo

Synopsis: Save a horse, ride a cowboy.

Warnings: cowboy sheriff!kmg x diner worker!fem reader, cowgirl position, raw sex, boot riding, oral (m and f recieving), mg is kinda mean here, very horny, lots of petnamds

The blazing sun wasn't to be mistaken. It was here and you could feel it, but no amount of heat can dry up the wet feeling between your thighs.

There was something about watching Mingyu ride a horse, wearing a full cowboy attire topped with his favorite cattleman hat, under the firing heat with sweat dripping down his forehead, forearms flexed as he takes control of his horse. A sheriff badge sitting nicely on his left upper chest pinned nicely to his cowboy vest.

Imagine how hot it would look like having his forearms would look like on your waist guiding you to grind on him. Biceps flexing as he picks you up. His whole body oiled up in sweat.

Luckily for you, you don't have to hold it in imagination for too long.

Mingyu wasn't a stranger to your diner. He often visits the place to eat his favourite meal, and also to have a taste of your special milkshake. It was a nice break from doing rounds around town.

Walking in the place, the swinging doors emit a sound letting you know of his arrival. Only you, because there was no one else at the place right now. "Afternoon sugar, weathers been extra hot lately huh?" He winks, sitting down at the bar stool, conveniently located right in front of where you rest over at the counter.

It takes a while for you to answer, taking in his beauty. His tan skin glowing with sweat, sharp features, beautiful nose, his lips, and canine smile. How could you not admire him really?

"No need to tell me, your sweat speaks for itself. Want your usual?" You ask, trying your best to maintain eye contact so as not to wander anywhere else, especially the wet patch on his long sleeve botton up slightly clinging to his abs. Not to mention his rolled up sleeves and bulging biceps.

"Been starin' at me have 'ya? I think I'll take my special."

"Coming right up!" You smile, attempting a genuine one but your eyes says otherwise. You turn around to enter the kitchen and make his milkshake, one you only make for him courtesy of the amount of times he requested for adjustments in the flavouring to fit his taste.

It takes a while before you finally get to finish it off with whipped and a cherry on top. Serving it to him with an ever so sweet smile as if it isn't taking every will of your power to not just jump at him.

"Thanks sweetheart." He winks. He was no longer wearing his hat, cowboy vest off his chest, slightly dry now due to waiting but still glistening nonetheless. "So.. got any stories to tell? Any bandits been causing trouble lately? Something I should be on the look out for?" You try to initiate a conversation, Mingyu was a nice company, all hots aside.

"As of late? Nah, towns under control. Didn't saw anything while on the road, just a few bunch of squirrels and tumbleweeds if that's what you're interested in."

"Boring.." You rest your cheek on the palm of your hands, elbows rested atop the counter as you drag out the last syllable. He chuckles at you, locking eye contact as he grabs the cherry, dangling it on his open mouth, barely touching his lips before he takes it one bite with his teeth, jaws flexing while he chews on the fruit.

A smirk etches it's way on his face when he sees you gulp, eyes looking to the left away from him. "Boring huh? Wanna ride on me then?" He asks.

"What?" You turn to him, eyes wide open only to see him take the stem of the small fruit, before taking out and showing a small knot.

"You wanna ride with me then?" He raises his brow, tossing the knot to the side, tilting his head to the right as his smile turns upward as well. "Um..." You position both your hands to lay flat on the counter but as you do, you knock the cup of milkshake causing it to spill all over him. "Shit, I'm sorry, I-"

"Nah, it's fine, needed a change anyway, got any extra shirt for me sweetie?" He cuts you off, standing up lazily as if he wasn't just spoiled by his drink. "I think we do- yes, let me just clean the mess- hold on." You were panicking, you didn't knew what to do first. Torn between him or the spilt liquid all over the counter.

Luckily for him he knew exactly what he wanted to do.

· · ·

"This is all we got, it's for the male employees, shirts go 'till xl so... yeah."

Kim Mingyu, the mist respectable sheriff of your town, the embodiment of a wet dream, your not so secret crush, is stripping his upper clothing off right in front of you. Showing off his pecs and giving you a full view of his hard earned muscles. "Yeah?" He smirks at your flustered look. "Got any problem sugar?" He says, walking towards you.

The space you two were in was cramped, a mere utility room of just cleaning supplies and spare clothes for the employees. The door was closed, you don't remember it being that way when you entered, nor do you remember telling him to close it.

You indeed do have a problem. Your panties was damp, unfortunately for you, unlike a shirt, it can't be replaced so easily unles syou fix the source of the problem. Nonetheless, you shake your head 'no', eyes staring intensely right at him.

"Really? So if I touch your cunt you won't be just as wet as my chest?" He asks.

"How..."

"Skirts not long enough to hide your panties when you bent down to grab that shirt. Think it's only rightful that I help a needy citizen of mine ey?"

"You ask too many questions."

"You've answered few. Last question baby, yes or no?"

You let a few beats pass before eventually, "Yes."

His hands find your thighs immediately, lifting you to sit on the small shelf to which barely holds your butt, however it was no problem because Mingyu was groping it in an instant.

The tall man captivates you in a kiss while his hands spread your cheeks apart, sliding underneath your skirt to fully remove your panties before spreading your cunt making you feel the air.

"Fuck, you're so wet." Mingyu slides a finger in, curling it up, his mouth never leaving your mouth as he swallows your kiss, his tongue slides with your as you share your salivas. He was just as good as you'd imagine.

Another finger goes in, then another, and another, before he finally gets on his knees and fully eating out your pussy. He was acting like a starved mad man, and he was.

"Don't know how long I've waited for this. To have you like this, fuck you're just as good you're milkshake." Mingyu moans. The sheriff was finger fucking you with four fingers going in and out, curling up as it does. His mouth was sucking and licking all over, one of his thumbs play with your clit as be basically pins you to the wall of the shelf with your thighs.

You looked like a mess, probably sounded like one too, eyes crossef and mouth open letting out pathetic and barely tangible sounds.

"'M c- close! Fuck!" Your first full words after giving consent.

A pulls everything out and away before slapping your cunt once with his heavy hand making your tremble as you cum. "You weren't supposed to cum and you know that, but you're a slut, you don't know how to do anything but cum on me." He gives another slap this time to your boobs, tugging the top of your dress down until your tits is all in it's glory.

Mingyu stands on his two feet, unbuckling his pants to free his dick. Standing tall and hard with precum leaking off the tip. All for you to lick. You slide lff the shelf to your knees, eyes faded when you gran his dick to lick and slobber all over.

"Fucking whore, don't even need to tell you to do shit. Doing it on your own already huh?" He chuckles, grabbing a handful of your hair before shoving his full dick in. He steps his boots forward, "Grind on it bitch."

You moan, grinding your wet cunt on his cowboy boots as you move your head on his cock. "Yeah, serve me like the good toy that you are." He smiles, rubbing your cheek as you start to cry when he holds your head in place when he fucks your mouth at his own pace.

Your hands find it's way around his thighs as you grind, practically clinging on him as he fucks you harder. His hands grab onto your neck, choking you full on, threatening to cut your air supply double time with his fingers and his dick. His boots tapping on the floor to further stimulate your cunt.

He can feel the leather getting soaked up by your juice as if he's stepping in a puddle of rain. "Love your milkshake but I bet you'll love mine better." He pulls his hands around your throat away and places it ontop of your head, practically patting you as he cums inside your mouth forcing you to take him all.

You don't know how much you've cummed on his boots but you're sure it's more than one. Mingyu lifts you up from the floor as he lays his ass flat on it, upper body leaning back on the door before guiding you back down.

"C'mon cowgirl, haven't cummed in you yet. Can't give up on me that easily." He teases, rubbing your cunt as he lowers you onto him. "M.. mercy, please." You plead, holding on the muscles of his biceps. You were barely there to be honest. But Mingyu knows you can take it, this wasn't your first rodeo with him after all.

"Shhh.. none of that now. 'Know you can take it." He wipes your tears away, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, contrary to his move that follows as he grabs your hips steadily and thrusts his own u, burying his dick inside of you in one go.

Thankfully the diner was usually empty at this hour.

He plants you ontop of him, letting your head fall on the crook of his neck for as long as you let him rock your hips back and forth. "Baby, it's either you fuck yourself on me at your pace or I go at you 'till I'm satisfied." He whispers in your ear making you whimper and look at him with glassy eyes, a cute pout on your lips.

You pull away from his neck. If there was one thing about Mingyu, it's that he stays true to his claims. His pounding would be too much too soon.

You slowly move up and down on him, clenching on him as you let out a mix of whimpers and moans making him groan and hold tightly onto your waist. It was taking everything in him not to flip you over right now and hard fuck you 'till you pass out.

"Fuck yeah baby, just like that." He whispers, pulling you into a kiss to hopefully keep him under control. You slowly regain your energy as you move faster, moving your ass up and down as you lean on him, holding onto his chest.

He uses his hands to spread your ass open and close repeatedly, sneaking slaps in between.

It was getting louder and louder in the small room, your sounds a mix of slaps, squelch, moans, whines, and gasps. As if it was a set on a porno.

"Yeah, good girl, riding me so good. You like that huh? Like riding your favorite cowboy, acting like a slutty cowgirl."

Your thighs begin to burm when you whimper to him a sweet "Gyu.. please.." A plea and permission at the same time.

"Got it princess." He gives your ass a slap before taking control and lifting his hips to fuck you straight. Mingyu will forever be a cowgirl defender, the view of seeing his cock dive in and out of you repeatedly is like no other, his dick coming out wetter and creamier each time.

You plant your hands on his chest keeping yourself steady as he fucks you out of your mind. His hands around your waist, forearms flexing as you locks you in your position.

You were reduced to nothing but a hole for him to fuck and indulge in. Mingyu was practically being hypnotized by your tits as they jiggle up and down, he puts one in his mouth sucking it like his life depends on it.

"Fuck, 'M cumming." You mewl on him

Mingyu pulls away and keeps your hole plugged by his dick, his thrusts become sloppy and inconsistent as he nears his climax. "Yeah, me too, c'mon baby milk my cock, take it all sweetheart. Fuck!"

You collapse on top of him and he catches you, securing you to him as wrapping his arms around your sweaty body.

"Now we're both sweaty."

[urmum-lovesme]

Bunny (P4)

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.

a/n: I'm not gonna lie I've never been on a golf course so this might be really inaccurate. however #justiceformygirly/n

warnings: mentions of drinking, rude comments, aggressive behaviour, black mailing.

(P1) (P2) (P3) (P4) (P5) (P6) (P7) (P8) (P9) (P10) (P11) (P12) (P13) (P14)

The sun was beating down on the manicured greens of Figure Eight’s most exclusive country club as Y/N crouched by her cart, restocking the mini freezer with ice. The scent of freshly cut grass lingered in the air, mixing with the distant sound of polite laughter and the occasional crack of a golf club hitting a ball. She exhaled sharply, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead as she shoved a bottle into place. Working the beverage cart wasn’t the worst job in the world- decent tips, the occasional rich old man slipping her an extra twenty just to call him sir, and best of all, no uniform beyond the white polo and tennis skirt. But the heat, the mind-numbing small talk, the entitled customers was already testing her patience.

With a huff, she straightened and glanced out over the course. A group of men stood a little ways off near the ninth hole, laughing too loudly. She didn’t even need to get closer to know who was there- she could feel him before she even saw him.

Rafe fucking Cameron.

She rolled her eyes and turned back to the cart, shoving a few more bottles onto the shelves with unnecessary force. Of course he was here. He was always here, like a shadow dressed in designer. And judging by the obnoxious laughter echoing across the course, he wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon. Y/N had spent the past week trying to avoid him, especially after what happened at the club- but clearly, the universe had other plans. And sure enough, as she climbed onto the cart, ready to make her rounds, a sharp whistle cut through the air, snapping her attention toward the very last person she wanted to talk to. Rafe stood a few feet away, golf club resting against his shoulder, that same smug grin tugging at his lips. His eyes flickered over her, slow and deliberate, before he tipped his head toward the cart.

"You gonna do your job, or just sit there like a stuck up bitch?"

Her grip tightened around the steering wheel, teeth grinding together. A few of the other guys chuckled, amused at her expense, and she forced a slow exhale before putting on her best fake smile.

"What can I get you, gentlemen?"

She asked sweetly, voice laced with poison. Rafe exchanged a look with Topper who was already stepping closer, resting his forearm on the top of the cart like he belonged there. "Let’s see…" He dragged the words out, acting as if he were actually thinking about it.

"How about a Johnnie Walker Blue? Neat."

Y/N fought the urge to scoff. Of course he’d order the most expensive whiskey they had. "Sure thing," she chirped, already scheming.

"And for the rest of you?"

The other guys rattled off their orders—beers, vodka sodas, a gin and tonic. She nodded along, pretending to be the perfect accommodating employee, but Y/N barely spared Rafe a glance before turning to the rest of them.

"And you?"

She asks, voice clipped as she looked towards the brunette. Rafe glances down at the selection of bottles lined up on her cart, dragging out the moment. "Hmmm." Her fingers tighten around the bottle as she makes one of the other guys drinks. "Sure, go ahead. Take your time," she says flatly, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. A slow grin spreads across his face at her impatience.

"I’ll have a Bloody Mary."

"A Bloody Mary?"

She scoffs before she can stop herself, staring at him. He speaks, tone nonchalant, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"Yeah"

She exhales through her nose, shaking her head, "You don’t even drink shit like that-"

"-Is there a problem?"

Her jaw clenches. Of course, this is exactly why he ordered it- because its the most complicated drink on the menu to make. He knows she’s going to put in the effort for a drink he won’t even finish. He’s just doing it to get under her skin. And the worst part?

It’s working.

Y/N turned away from him, yanking a cup off the shelf with more force than necessary. The ice clattered loudly as she scooped it in, the sound grating against her nerves as she reached for the vodka. The other drinks were easy- simple pours, barely requiring her attention- but this dumbass Bloody Mary… She grabbed the tomato juice with a scowl, biting back the urge to roll her eyes. The thick liquid sloshed into the glass, the deep red already annoying her before she even had to reach for the Worcestershire sauce. A few dashes, a heavy pour of vodka again, a squeeze of lemon she nearly crushed in her frustration at the never ending ingredients.  Behind her, she could feel Rafe’s eyes burning into her back, could practically hear the smirk in his voice when he said,

“You’re taking your time Maybank.”

Her grip on the drink tightened, and she soon found a slow smirk creeping onto her lips as her fingers curled around the Tabasco.

One, two, three, four, five, six—

She lost count of the number of shakes she gave it, but the deep red liquid swirled ominously in the glass, promising nothing but regret. A quick stir, a squeeze of lemon once more, and she shoved the celery stalk inside, pushing it down so hard that the juice nearly sloshed over the rim. Turning back, she plastered on her sweetest smile and placed the drink down in front of him with a little too much enthusiasm.

“Your drink”

She said brightly, tilting her head as she batted her lashes at him. Rafe eyed her, then the Bloody Mary, before lifting it lazily to his lips. He took a long, slow sip; the burn of all that extra Tabasco, the overwhelming taste of tomato and spice hitting his tongue like a slap, but there’s no way in hell he’d give her the satisfaction of a reaction- instead letting the awful taste settle, all while maintaining eye contact with her. His jaw flexed slightly, the faintest twitch of his lip as he smacked his lips, 

“Mmm- Perfect.”

She’s fuming. She knows it tastes like absolute shit, knows it should have him coughing or gagging, but instead, he’s sitting there acting like he just ordered the best damn drink of his life. He lifts the glass toward her, a smug glint in his eyes as he adds, 

“You should try it”

She glares up at him, fingers tight around the cold cup as he presses it into her hand. He’s close- too close- his broad frame looming over her, one hand braced against the top of the cart as he watches her with that insufferable smirk. He murmurs, voice low and taunting.

“Drink it”

Y/N hesitates for half a second, but she refuses to let him win. So, she lifts the glass to her lips and takes a sip- too big of a sip. The spice immediately scorches her tongue, searing all the way down her throat. She barely suppresses a cough, blinking rapidly as her eyes well up, the heat hitting her like a slap. Rafe tilts his head, watching every flicker of discomfort with smug amusement.

“Aww—what?” His voice is mocking, dripping with fake sympathy as he leans in just a little more.

“You don’t like it?”

She swallows thickly, willing herself not to react as she forces the glass back into his chest, her jaw clenched so tight it aches,

“Go fuck yourself Cameron.”

And now he’s looking down at her, eyes flickering over her face, dark with something unreadable as his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“Such a naughty mouth Y/N.”

She doesn't to look away, refuses to give him the satisfaction of seeing her falter. Her jaw tightens, other hand curling into fists at her sides, but she holds his gaze, a silent challenge burning between them. Then he moves, reaching for the cup, fingers brushing against hers as he takes it back—too fast, too careless- and the red liquid sloshes over the rim, splattering against her white polo and tennis skirt.

She sucks in a sharp breath, eyes snapping downward as the cold, sticky drink seeps into the fabric, staining it instantly. A drop lands on his own polo, but he doesn’t seem to care- doesn’t even glance at it. Her gaze flicks back up, burning with rage, but he’s already watching her, already grinning, amused by the whole thing. His voice is anything but apologetic.

“Oops.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake—”

She mutters, stepping back instinctively, eyes darting down to the spreading stain. Rafe, meanwhile, just watches her, amusement flickering in his gaze as he sets the now almost-empty cup back on the cart. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip, slow and deliberate, before he tuts. “Look at that,” he muses, eyes dragging over her ruined uniform.

“Messy, messy.”

“You’re such a dick.”

She clenches her jaw, nostrils flaring as she glares up at him. Rafe just smirks at her stubbornness, gaze flickering between her eyes before dropping, taking his time to lazily drink in the sight of her, now disheveled and stained because of him. Then, he exhales sharply, like he’s made some kind of decision. “Well,” he drawls,

“you should probably go clean that up- wouldn’t want to look unprofessional.”

God, he was insufferable.

Y/N's eyes narrow as she dabs at the stain on her polo with a tissue, but it’s no use. The red liquid has already seeped deep into the fabric, leaving a glaring mark. She sighs in frustration, bending over to wipe the mess off her shoes, her white skirt riding up her thighs. She can feel a set of eyes on her, Topper and Kelce standing a few feet away, their gazes lingering and she rolls her eyes, already irritated. But the way they’re elbowing each other and snickering only makes her more uncomfortable.

Before she can fully straighten up, she feels a sudden, sharp slap against her ass. Y/N jumps, her body stiffening as a rush of heat floods her face. Her head whips around, her eyes flashing with fury.

"What's wrong with you?!" 

She snaps, her voice sharp as she scoffs, brushing it off as best she can, but her face is red with embarrassment and fury. Rafe's staring at Kelce now, his gaze practically burning through him. Kelce’s smugness falters for a second, the cocky grin fading slightly as he tries to meet Rafe’s eyes, but he can feel the threat hanging in the air. Without a word, Y/N steps over to the cart, her fingers already reaching for the wheel. Yet as she goes to grab it, she hears Rafe’s voice, low and commanding.

"Hey—hey!"

He grabs the wheel himself, his grip tight and unforgiving. Y/N looks up at him, confused and a little frustrated. He demands, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Where are you going?"

"Really? I'm covered in tomato juice, Rafe," she snaps, voice dripping with sarcasm. "What do you think I’m doing? Going back to get changed."

Rafe narrows his eyes, still looking at her with that dead, intense glare, and it’s almost like he’s seeing right through her. "Well, you got your shitty drink on me," he says, his voice dripping with irritation.

"Excuse me, I did that?"

Y/N blinks, incredulous. Her eyes flicker down to the tiny splodge of red on his polo, her expression shifting into an exaggerated roll of her eyes as she looks back up at him. Rafe’s jaw tightens, but his gaze doesn’t falter as he stands there, silently assessing her, his posture rigid with tension.

"Yeah, well," he mutters, clearly not done with the situation, "drive me back. I need to change."

Y/N glares at him, shaking her head. "What? No."

She can't even protest any further as Rafe steps around her, sliding into the cart, and sitting down beside her with that infuriatingly casual air, like he’s the one in control. His leg bumps hers as he settles, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as if the whole thing is just a game. Y/N glares at him as he casually sits down beside her in the cart, crossing his arms and leaning back like he’s completely at ease.

"Uh- get out?"

She says, her voice sharp with frustration. Rafe doesn’t even flinch, just looks over at her with a lazy smirk.

"Get out"

"I hope that’s not how you talk to all your customers, Maybank."

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

Y/N’s eyes widen in disbelief, she’s seething, the smell of the tomato juice stain on her uniform only adding to the frustration. Her hand clenches around the wheel as she tries to keep her composure, but it’s hard when Rafe is sitting there, acting like he owns the place.

"Better get going, or that stain will stick”

He adds casually, the smirk still tugging at the corner of his mouth. Y/N’s jaw clenches, and she takes a deep breath, trying to suppress the urge to snap back at him. But with the tension thick in the air, there’s no ignoring him. She huffs, gripping the wheel even tighter. “Fine,” she mutters under her breath, eyes flicking to him before she starts the cart and drives off, the sound of the engine almost masking the anger simmering between them.

Rafe leans back, perfectly comfortable in his spot, not a care in the world, while Y/N fights the urge to punch him in his stupid fucking face. Her eyes stay on the road, trying to ignore the irritating presence next to her, but she knows this is far from over. The cart bumps along the grass of the golf course, the soft hum of the engine doing nothing to ease the tightness in the air. Y/N’s hands are tight around the wheel, her grip rigid as she focuses on driving, trying to ignore the heat from Rafe’s presence beside her. Her body’s tense, her muscles stiff under the weight of his gaze.

Rafe, on the other hand, seems perfectly relaxed, like he’s completely comfortable with the silence stretching between them. But he’s not looking at the horizon or the passing course; no, his eyes are on her. Slowly, they drift over her face, studying her every feature with an intensity that makes her skin crawl. Then, his gaze lowers, tracing down her body with lazy attention, stopping at her thighs—bare beneath the drink-stained skirt. Y/N’s pulse picks up, and she doesn't even process it, but she feels Rafe’s hand is on her thigh, resting just above her knee.

The touch is so casual, but it makes her freeze. Her body stiffens in shock, and her eyes snap to his, wide and full of surprise.

"Rafe—"

"Shhh, relax"

He murmurs, his voice low and slow, the words cutting through the tension like a hot knife. His fingers rub gently up and down her thigh, almost as though a sweet gesture, but the touch feels possessive, like he’s marking her without saying it aloud.

"What- What the fuck are you doing?"

She asks, her voice betraying a hint of uncertainty, and every part of her wants to pull away. He squeezes her thigh lightly, almost teasingly, and his gaze doesn’t leave her as he speaks.

“Well I pay for your services, don’t I?”

His words are heavy with meaning, his tone casual, but there’s an edge to it that makes her stomach flip. Y/N scoffs, a mix of disbelief and anger rising inside her.

“Yeah, wrong club”

She bites back, trying to push him off, but the way his hand stays there, the way his fingers grip her just a little too firmly, a little too high, keeping her in place.

Her heart races, the air around them charged, and it’s clear that neither of them is backing down. Y/N’s pulse thunders in her ears, and her breath catches in her throat. Rafe’s hand is still on her thigh, just a little too far up, the warmth of his fingers on her bare thigh making her feel exposed. She grips the wheel tighter, her knuckles going white, the engine’s soft hum doing nothing to drown out the sound of her rapid heartbeat. The cart lurches over a bump, and it snaps her attention back to the road, but Rafe’s hand doesn’t move—his fingers squeezing once more. She feels a rush of heat, but the anger bubbles just as fast, rising in her chest.

"Get your hand off me"

She says through gritted teeth, her voice more forceful this time. She forces her gaze ahead, trying not to look at him, trying not to react to how his hand is still there, how it’s still so present. But Rafe just smirks, leaning in closer, his breath ghosting over her ear as he whispers,

“Make me.”

His voice is laced with a challenge, with something dark that makes her skin prickle, makes her feel like she’s walking a dangerous line between hatred and something else. Something she’s not ready to confront.

Her jaw clenches, and for a split second, she contemplates slapping his hand away. But then she feels it—the sudden weight of his gaze as it shifts to her lips, lingering for a heartbeat too long. The chemistry between them, that dangerous spark, shifts just a little. She knows he’s pushing her, testing her limits. But there's also this magnetism pulling her toward him, something about the way he’s looking at her drives her crazy.

"Cut it out Cameron"

She warns, voice barely above a whisper, but it’s a warning that means nothing when Rafe just chuckles and moves his hand upward almost hitting the edge of her panties.

Then, without warning, she jerks the wheel to the side, sending the cart veering slightly off course toward the edge of the course.

It’s a quick move, almost out of desperation, as if she’s trying to shake off the way he’s affecting her. The cart jerks again, and Rafe has to steady himself hand letting go of her thigh to hold onto the dashboard.

"You really want to play that game, huh?"

He muttered, eyes narrowed. Y/N doesn’t know what she’s doing, but all she can think of is how badly she wants him out of her space, out of her head. She doesn’t care about the stain on her skirt anymore; she’s thinking about the best way to get a thousand miles away from him.

The cart bumps back onto the paved path leading to the club, and she slows it as they approach the building, her fingers twitching on the wheel, still burning from the heat of the moment. Rafe leans back against the seat, but there’s still that smug look in his eyes, that feeling of control he loves so much. He glances at her, as she gets out the cart, he slips out after her taking in her expression, the way she refuses to meet his gaze, and then says,

“I need a change of shirt.”

“Okay”

She replies flatly, her tone as cold as she can make it. Y/N doesn’t even flinch, still focused on the path ahead. Rafe steps closer, closing the space between them with slow, deliberate movements, he leans down slightly, his voice low and insistent.

“So... get me a shirt.”

“I don’t see how you're my problem”

She shoots back, her voice dripping with sarcasm, finally looking up at him, her arms crossing over her chest. Rafe doesn’t step back, doesn’t even give her a second to breathe before he takes another step forward, crowding her space.

“Well, I am, so fucking find me a change of top”

He demands, his tone sharp, full of that same cocky authority. Y/N’s lips curl into a sarcastic smile even though she’s seething inside. She rolls her eyes, turning her head away just enough to make it clear how little she cares.

“Sure Mr. Cameron, let me get that for you”

She mocks, voice dripping with fake sweetness. He can't even say anything else because she turns on her heel and strides toward the club, walking away with that same attitude as she leaves him standing there with his challenge unanswered.

Yet as she's walking away, she feels the sharp tug on her arm, her body jerking back as Rafe’s fingers wrap around her bicep, pulling her toward him. She turns, ready to snap at him again, but before she can open her mouth he scolds,

“Don’t walk away from me.”

His voice is low, almost a growl, and there’s something dark and angry simmering under the words. Y/N’s eyes flash, but she stands her ground, lifting her chin as she spits back, her annoyance clear.

“Or what?”

Rafe’s jaw tightens, a vein at his temple throbbing with the effort to keep his temper in check. He doesn’t want to be this pissed off, but the way she’s treating him- like she doesn’t give a shit about him- it drives him mad. It’s like a challenge, and he’s not backing down from it, even though he knows he’s been just as bad. His voice comes out seething,

“Or I’ll complain to your manager.”

At that, something shifts in Y/N’s expression- her eyes narrow, defiance flickering for just a second. She can’t afford to lose her job, not like this.

Not over him.

She snatches her arm back, her frustration visible, and for a brief second, the fight in her dies down. She exhales, the anger draining from her posture as she steps back, eyes flicking toward the staff quarters.

“C’mon”

She mutters under her breath, quieter now, and there's a weariness in her voice that wasn’t there before. She’s not giving him the satisfaction of being totally submissive, but her tone has changed—it's more resigned than anything.

Rafe watches her for a beat, still standing a little too close, but this time, he doesn’t say anything. His eyes follow her as she walks through the club, her movements brisk as she heads toward the staff quarters. There’s a flicker of surprise in his chest, and for a moment, he considers backing off, letting her go, but something about how she’s reacting entices him So, he follows her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N walks briskly through the club, the sound of her shoes clicking against the polished floors echoing in the quiet hall. Rafe follows closely behind, his presence heavy in the air as they make their way toward the staff quarters. She doesn't glance back at him, but she can feel the heat of his gaze boring into her.

They pass a few of the staff lockers, the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights above the only sound as they walk down the narrow aisle of the staff area. Y/N moves with purpose, each step holding no sign of the unease she’s feeling on the inside. She turns the corner at the end of the hall, and they reach the large lost and found. It’s a mess- shirts, jackets, random pieces of clothing, and forgotten items strewn across the bins, piles of things that have clearly been left behind by members and staff who aren’t quite as neat as they should be. There’s no order, no system, just a jumble of lost things waiting to be reclaimed. She gestures to it, voice laced with that same sarcasm she’s always got, but with an edge of frustration creeping in.

“There.”

She motions to a polo shirt thrown over a pile of forgotten jackets. Rafe takes a step forward, his eyes scanning the pile. He doesn’t miss a beat, his gaze flicking back to her for a moment, sizing her up. There’s something about the way she’s handling this, the way she’s pretending to be completely unaffected, that gets under his skin. He doesn’t like it- not because she’s hiding something, but because it’s like she’s challenging him to break her composure. He grabs the shirt off the top of the pile, holding it out in front of him like he’s completely entitled to it. The material is rough, not the kind of quality he’s used to, and he sneers at it for a moment.

“This is what you got for me?” he mutters, voice dripping with mock disbelief, “I didn’t realise I was getting leftovers.”

“Not my fault you spilled tomato juice on yourself.”

Y/N crosses her arms, her body language unreadable as she leans against the nearby counter. She rolls her eyes, eyes flicking over his shoulder for a moment, clearly unimpressed by his dramatics. He doesn’t say anything at first, just watches her with that cold smirk, but then his hand reaches out, his fingers brushing against the fabric of the shirt with exaggerated slowness.

“I thought you were supposed to take care of me- Y/N”

He says, voice low and purposeful, the undercurrent of something more in his tone now. Y/N shoots him a quick look, her eyes narrowed, frustration simmering. She stands up straighter, ready to walk off, but she’s not backing down.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I am serious.”

He steps closer, his face unreadable, but there's something about his presence, the way he stands there so close, that makes her freeze for just a moment. Rafe's gaze unwavering as he watches her, looking for any crack in her cool exterior. Y/N’s pulse quickens, but she’s not going to let him see that. She stands her ground, even though every instinct is telling her to get away from him. He tilts his head slightly, his voice low and deliberate.

“You really don’t care, do you?”

“About what, exactly?”

Y/N arches an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sarcastic smile. Rafe takes a slow step forward, the proximity between them shrinking. He’s invading her space, pushing against her comfort zone, but she’s still not backing down, she won't appear weak- she's not weak.

“About making sure I’m... taken care of”

He says, his words hanging heavy in the air. She exhales sharply, rolling her eyes again and shes surprise they've not fallen out of their sockets yet.

“I’m not your fucking personal assistant, Rafe.”

“-but you sure as hell act like it”

There's a flicker of amusement in his eyes, like he enjoys seeing her fight back, his hand's still gripping the shirt, his fingers brushing against her arm lightly as if testing her reaction. Y/N’s breath catches, but she doesn’t flinch. Instead, she meets his eyes, the defiance still strong in her stance. She leans in just a fraction,

“And what? You think that means you can boss me around?”

Without warning, Rafe moves, stepping into her space so suddenly that she has no choice but to press her back against the lockers, the cold metal digging into her skin. His large frame looms over her, his hand bracing against the locker next to her head. He’s so close, she can feel his breath against her cheek. For a second, she freezes, eyes wide as she realises just how trapped she is- physically and mentally. She looks up at him and his eyes are already fixed on her, his expression unreadable, almost cold.

“Maybe I do”

He says, his voice now barely a whisper, but it feels like it’s cutting straight through her. There’s something in his eyes- something dark, predatory, like he’s daring her to make a move. Her chest tightens. She hates that this proximity makes her heart race, but she refuses to let him know that. She’s not going to let him see that he’s rattling her.

“And if I don’t want to be bossed around?”

She challenges, her voice shaky, but she’s still holding her ground. Rafe’s gaze flickers for a moment, then he moves even closer, his knee brushing lightly against her thigh as he adjusts his position. Her breath catches again, her body tensing instinctively, but he’s not done yet. His voice drops even lower as he leans in, his words like a private threat just for her.

“You’ll learn to deal with it, Maybank.”

She almost flinches at how intimate it sounds- like there’s more than just the words hanging between them. It makes her nauseous- she’s so close to him now, she can’t tell where he ends and she begins.

Then, suddenly, her phone buzzes in her pocket, breaking the tension like a gunshot.

She takes the opportunity to glance down, breaking eye contact with him just for a moment. It’s a message from her manager. She sighs, her shoulders sagging as the reality of her situation starts to settle back in. This isn’t a game. She can’t afford to get caught up in whatever power struggle Rafe’s trying to pull. Without looking back at him, she pushes her self away from the lockers speaking out sharply.

“You’ve got your shirt. Now get out.”

Rafe doesn’t move right away. He stands there, staring at her, his expression unreadable. For a moment, Y/N thinks she’s won their little silent quarrel, but something about the way he looks at her- dark, calculating- tells her she hasn’t. Finally, he steps back, his gaze lingering on her like he’s trying to figure her out. His voice, when it comes, is dripping with something both mocking and serious.

“You might want to work on your customer service skills, Maybank.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N steps out of the club, exhaustion settling into her bones after a grueling double shift. The cool night air hits her like a breath of fresh air, and she sighs, stretching her arms overhead. She’s almost to the parking lot when she hears a familiar voice calling her name.

"Hey, Y/N!"

Sofia's voice is warm, and Y/N turns to see her friend walking towards her with a bright smile. They meet halfway, and she smiles, grateful for the distraction. Sofia pulls her into a hug, the kind of hug that only close friends give.

"Hey, Sof," Y/N says, her voice a little tired but genuine, "how’ve you been?"

"Good, just the usual stuff but you look like you could use a nap," Sofia jokes, pulling back to get a better look at Y/N, her eyes narrowing playfully.

"Double shift today?"

"Yeah, you know, Can’t resist the overtime."

Y/N chuckles lightly, shrugging. Sofia grins but then her expression softens.

"I saw you with Rafe earlier…"

"Oh, uh, yeah. He's just being a bitch as usual..."

Y/N's heart skips a beat, and she immediately tries to brush it off, her gaze flicking away. She trails off, not wanting to get into it. It’s not like she owes Sofia an explanation, but it feels weird to talk about Rafe. She adds quickly, forcing a smile.

"It’s nothing"

"You sure?’"

Sofia tilts her head with a small smile but she can sense the shift in Y/N’s mood. Y/N exhales sharply, trying to hide the heat creeping up her neck. "It’s really not a big deal," she says, voice a little too sharp.

"Just a… a thing. Nothing worth getting into."

Sofia watches her for a moment, her eyes searching Y/N's face. "Alright," she says, though the tone in her voice suggests she’s not entirely convinced, "But just so you know, people talk. I’m not saying you need to explain yourself, but one of the girls said you went to the locker rooms and I know that doesn't mean—"

Y/N cuts her off with a soft but firm laugh. "Sof, it’s really nothing. He’s Rafe Cameron, I don't want anything to do with him, relax. Anyways- I’m not going to waste my time worrying about whatever it is other people gossip about."

Sofia doesn't push further, but her concern lingers in her eyes. "Okay, okay," she relents, nodding.

"You're not mad right?"

"What!? No- of course I'm not. Don’t worry."

Y/N gives her a half-smile, trying to look confident. The two share a brief, comfortable silence before Sofia raises an eyebrow.

"You heading home now? Need a ride?"

Y/N shakes her head, glancing back at the club, "No I'm good I drove- besides I know when I get back I’m crashing tonight for sure, so I doubt I could keep up any good convos right now."

Sofia smiles knowingly, "Alright, well, if you need anything, you know where to find me."

“I know- I love you get home safe.”

“I love you too! Text me when you're back”

Y/N waves at the girl, and the two of them part ways, Sofia heading off into the night while Y/N walks toward her car, a heavy feeling settling in her chest. Her mind drifts back to the Chinese leftovers sitting in the fridge at home, wondering if JJ got to them before she had a chance. As she gets closer to her car, her pace slows, and she sees a figure leaning against it.

Her heart skips a beat, and instinctively, she hesitates.

It’s late.

She’s alone.

She knows better than to approach someone like that without caution. She stays still for a moment, the feeling of being vulnerable creeping over her, before she takes a few steps forward, straining her eyes to make out the person.

Then she sees it’s him.

Her stomach drops, and she mutters under her breath, "What the-?" She’s always been a decent person, always tried to do the right thing. But then there’s Rafe- always showing up at the most inconvenient times. "Seriously?" she says, her voice low, laced with frustration as she walks around to the opposite side of the car.

"What do you want?"

She shoves her bag in the backseat, the motion sharp, as her thoughts race. She can feel his presence by the driver's side, looming, as if he’s waiting for something. He’s standing there, leaning casually, but she can tell he’s not entirely sober- his eyes are blown, his posture sloppy, like he's a little drunk and definitely high. She rounds the back of the car and stops just short of him, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. Rafe doesn’t move, his eyes locked on her with that same unreadable expression.

"Why the hell are you here?"

She mutters, now visibly annoyed, but not completely surprised. Was his tormenting the morning not enough for him? Of course, he’d show up when she’s least expecting it, and definitely when she least wants him around. Rafe steps closer, his presence overpowering the air between them. His eyes are half-lidded, and his stance is far too relaxed for the late hour and the situation they’re in. He tilts his head as he studies her, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "So," he starts, voice low and a little too smooth for Y/N's liking,

"You headed to the club tonight? Gonna work that shift of yours... ?"

His words are dripping with something- teasing, playful, but also a little too sharp, like he knows exactly how to push her buttons. She steps back instinctively, glaring at him, but he doesn’t give her any space. He steps forward again, this time almost closing the gap completely. She pushes his chest, trying to push him away.

"Get your fucking act together, Rafe. I don’t have time for this shit."

Her voice is tight, forced out through gritted teeth. But he’s not having it. Instead, he steps in even closer, his hand brushing her arm, an unspoken challenge in his touch. The air between them is thick with tension, and she can feel it creeping under her skin. He’s toying with her. Again. “Come on, Y/N,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand reaches up to rest lightly on her waist, and he gives her a slight, mocking smile.

“Don’t make things complicated”

“Get off me, Rafe”

She snaps, shoving his hand away harder, but he’s not backing off. Before she can react, he steps around her, his movement quick and decisive. With one smooth motion, he flips them around, so now she’s trapped- her back against the cold metal of her car, his body closing the space between them. Her breath hitches at the sudden shift, and she looks up at him, eyes wide with a mix of anger and disbelief.

“Where r'you going?”

He mumbles, his voice low and threatening, but there’s something in it that sounds almost possessive, like he’s done playing games. Y/N’s heart is racing, but she doesn’t show it. She tries to push him off again, her hands firmly against his chest, but his body is solid, unmoving. She glares up at him, her chest heaving with each breath, but he’s not giving her an inch.

“You’re fucking insane”

She spits, her voice barely audible, but laced with venom. Rafe’s hand slides down to her waist, his grip firm but possessive, as he leans in closer, closing the distance between them. The proximity is overwhelming, his body heat radiating off him. His other hand rests casually on his hip, his gaze dark as he looks down at her, an almost predatory gleam in his eyes.

“Come on, Y/N,” he murmurs, voice thick with an almost smug satisfaction. “Come home with me- be my little dancer." His words are dripping with insinuation, the suggestion hanging heavy in the air, thick with promise and something darker beneath the surface.

“I’ll pay you well... you won’t regret it.”

Y/N freezes for a moment, shock and outrage flickering across her face. Her hands which were instinctively pressing against his chest, trying to keep some distance between them, faltered slightly. Is that really what he thought of her? The audacity of what he just said is enough to make her blood boil, the anger rising up in her chest like fire.

Her hand swings up and cracks across his cheek.

The sound of the slap echoes in the night air, sharp and satisfying. Rafe stumbles back in surprise, his eyes widening in disbelief, his drunken haze momentarily shaken. Y/N, her breath coming in short, angry gasps, doesn’t give him a chance to react. She yanks open the car door, the movement quick and jerky as she turns on her heel to face him one last time.

“I’m not a fucking prostitute”

She spits out, her voice low and venomous, the words sharp as daggers. She slams the door behind her with a force that makes the whole car shudder, her heart racing in her chest, the adrenaline coursing through her. The silence that follows is deafening, and all she can hear is the ringing in her ears.

Rafe stands there for a moment, he’s drunk, but even through the haze of alcohol, something in his chest tightens as he watches as she drives off, the sting of her slap still lingering on his skin.

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[tobeholyistobeempty]

the wreckage of ruination. | simon ghost riley

the one where simon comes home from deployment.

“Does this,” he sucks at your throat again, all teeth and tongue and it’s violent just like every breath he manages. “Feel gentle to you, love?”

WARNINGS - 18+ smut mdni. reader afab. simon essentially finding therapy in your pussy. heavy topics. rough sex. size kink. denied orgasm. a whole lot of simon riley psychoanalysis. a few sleep token references. a ton of religious undertones. piv. fingering. im gonna be honest chat idk if im horny or sobbing after this one.

It’s quarter past one when the front door swings open, and you pause with a dish towel in hand — listening as it slams closed again with enough force you half expected to hear the sound of shattered glass following it. Next comes the footsteps, though you already felt those, the dull thud of boots dragging across carpeted floorboards with the type of heavy set gait you could detect with your eyes closed. And then, there’s the rustling —the faint sound of a belt buckle unfastening.

Fuck.

It’s all you can think as he rounds the corner with a slow exhale, standing there in all the shadows of the early morning hour. Your eyes meet, and you see it there in all of its familiarity — the hunger.

It’s a languid look that he gives you, but one you know all too well. The kind that burns with intention backing it. The kind that turns the usual brown of his irises to something molten. A bonfire raging amidst the ashes. Inspiring the familiar sensation low in your gut that spreads through your nervous system like an infection. Sickly. You’d think it was a perfect description — because the next symptom is a tightness in your chest, one that comes robbing your lungs as you rake your eyes over him.

And it’s his hands, of all things, that really get you. The raw, crimson knuckles. Split from months of use. Battered by the wreckage of ruination — remnants of violence still fresh on his skin.

You wonder, stupidly, if he even notices the way you stare. Soaking in the lean lines of his torso. Studying the way his muscles shift beneath his skin with each inhale and ex. The way his dog tags sit against the hollow of his collarbones. The way his shirt sleeves are taut around the sinew bulging against his biceps. You wonder if he knows you can see the aftermath of the past few months in his eyes, the adrenaline still thrumming through him so violently it makes your bones ache.

When he steps forward, you know you have your answer.

“Nightgown.” His voice is a rasp. Gaze busy pinning silk to your skin. “Y’making this easier n’ easier f’me.”

You swallow the shock factor and smile while digesting it. He’s in front of you now. Close enough to feel the heat of him.

“Missing the chase, Si?” A tilt of your head, a tease in your tone. “I could run if you’d like.”

“Y’wouldn’t dare.” He all but hisses — two massive paws grasping your hips to tug you into him. There’s a breath as his mouth finds your hair, and then he inhales. “Much prefer y’right here. Like this.”

And it’s that simple admission, the one tucked behind the few extra syllables and whispered into the strands of your hair that has you leaping for a breath all over again. That has you forcing your sight to meet his with something a little too close to hope blinking in your chest.

“You feeling gentle?” You ask, and immediately wish you hadn’t.

Because his reaction is immediate. An answer in itself. And you’re not sure if it was the question on its own or the way you sounded asking it — but he’s catching your jaw in a grip just shy of bruising, forcing your eyes to hold the darkness in his. Then, he’s leaning in, breath brushing against your cheek, jaw, throat — growing back his sharpest teeth as he nips, tongue lavving out to soothe the sting in what you know is his crafted offering of mercy in a moment where he’s unable to provide much else.

“Does this,” he sucks at your throat again, all teeth and tongue and it’s violent just like every breath he manages. “Feel gentle to you, love?”

It doesn’t. It never has been on the nights he returns and you know this. So you take it for the warning sign it is and inhale the adrenaline permeating the air around you — offering him the closest thing to an answer you know he’ll ever need. Within seconds he’s crashing his mouth to yours with force nothing shy of feral. Wild and demanding, unhinged in the way you know he needs right now because this is how it goes on the night of his return. The beginning of his resurgence — ascension from the depths of the hollow he’d carved himself to be.

After all the war and destruction and damage he inflicts, you are his redoing. So you let him take, in whatever form he needs to, as he swallows everything you give and uses it to feel whole again.

You’re crushed against the counter next, and then he’s lifting you onto it — thick fingers fumbling for the edge of your nightgown as he presses between your thighs, kissing you hard all the while. You can all but taste the desperation on his tongue, the kind fuelled by lust and violence and everything else he needs to draw on just to find himself buried inside you in some capacity. It doesn’t matter to you much which way he chooses. You’ll take it all the same. And that, to him, means the world. The kind of catharsis he can’t get anywhere else.

He fists your hair, jerking your neck back as another hand trails up the heat of your thigh. You squirm and he bites your bottom lip for it, enough to make you squeak. You wonder then, as he drags his tongue along the hurt, how it can be as brutal and rough as it is while still feeling like something you can’t quite name. Something that makes you burn with the very same need.

When he kisses you, it’s like he’s trying to break you. When you kiss him back, it’s like you’re trying to mend him.

He pulls back then, just long enough to shrug out of his shirt — the muscles of his tatted chest gleaming under the low light of the overheads. He’s scarred. Bruised. A little bloodied. But he’s a beautiful mess. One you can’t force yourself to look away from because it’s here that he’s his most vulnerable — it’s here that he’s as beautiful and as dangerous as he will ever allow you to see.

The only time you catch glimpses of the ghosts etched into his irises.

“Never gets easier.” He mutters, both hands smoothing up your thighs now. “Gets harder each time.”

You know he’s talking about this. The way he comes home with the weight of the world on his shoulders, the bloodshed and horrors of what he’s seen still too fresh to call memories. You know. But still—

“Harder how, baby.” You breathe against his lips as he tugs your nightgown up around your waist.

It takes him a moment to speak, and you allow him all of it. In your time together, you’ve come to realize Simon Riley isn’t a man of many words. But when he does speak, you memorize every breath and syllable.

“Harder t’leave.” He admits, and you shiver at the words — or maybe at the fact his fingers are reaching up your thighs now, in search of the heat between them. “Harder t’come home. Harder t’be gentle like y’deserve.”

You close your eyes at that, wrapping your arms around his neck as those same thick fingers find your slit, and soak in the slick there. You let out a whimper, and he brings his lips to your temple, all while you turn those words over in your mind in search of their frontfaced meaning.

To anyone else, that might sound conflicting. But you’re not anyone else. You knew Simon before you knew Ghost — though in learning about him, many unanswered things made sense. You knew that there was always something stuck in the back of Simon’s throat that he could never quite swallow. Something thick. Something unmoving like grief. And you think, rather aimlessly through the pleasure he starts pouring into you, that after all the days and weeks and months he spends going through hell — for him, coming home has always been the harder part.

And there’s something poetic about that, beneath it all. The fact that even after all of it, he can still find it in himself to give you the remnants — the fractured remains of himself that are still in their infancy.

That he can be honest with you, in this way of his making. Letting you into the space beneath his mask.

So you moan. A sound of reward as he teases your clit. “S’good, Si.”

“No,” he whispers, swirling in easy strokes. “M’not good, love. Never have been.”

And that, you know he believes.

He’s a man made by violence. A weapon forged by war, by destruction, by the world that tried to break him just to turn him into the thing it fears most. To them, he’s destruction made flesh. But to you, he’s your salvation made in ink. And despite his best efforts, despite what he’ll always think, your Simon is so much more than he thinks he is. So much more than he’s ever been given credit for.

And you’ll tell him that. Over and over and over again if he wants you to.

“You are so good, Si.” You whinge, hips jerking to his touch. “You are so fucking good.”

There’s a moment, until there’s a hum. “Just as well. It’s not the good in men that keeps em’ aimin’ straight.”

He murmurs, almost to himself, and you know he’s not looking for a response. He’s unloading. Because it’s his truth. And everyone has a truth of their own. You try not to let him see how much his hurts you — the way he thinks his worth is based solely on the man he is behind the mask.

“It’s the men who try,” you mutter against his lips. “And despite your best efforts, sweetheart, you try so damn hard.”

His finger slips inside of you, slow. Like he’s making a point to prove you right. Like he’s showing you he can be good and gentle and patient. All the things he thinks you need him to be.

When you hiss at the stretch, his lips twitch and he pushes in another. “F-fuck, Si.”

You clench around him, and he exhales. “S’fucken’ tight f’me.”

You nod against his forehead, with barely a lung of breath.

“I missed this, you know. This feeling.” You roll your hips against his hand, taking his digits deeper, revelling in the way his cock throbs against your stomach. “This feeling I get when you come home with that wild look in your eyes. Like you’re too dangerous to be around if you’re not inside me.”

He nods, lips twitching again as he pulls back slightly to watch you. Watch his hand work you open with a crease in his brow — with a clench in his jaw that only intensifies as his other hand grips your hair too tight to be soft. You know he thinks you need this — the preamble. You know it’s taking every fucking bloody shred of his sanity to give it. But you don’t want him to be thinking about you right now.

This night, above all else, is about him.

“You’re breaking.” You choke with a smile — just to needle him — and that’s all it takes for his patience to crack.

Your nails drag against his shoulders when he pulls you off the counter — arms winding around his neck as he maneuvers you through the darkness of your living room. And it’s then that you realize you forgot just how strong he is. How the walk from the kitchen to the sofa only seems to take a few steps because he’s carrying you over his shoulder like you weigh less than the bag he left at the door.

He tosses you down onto the couch with a force that knocks the air from your lungs — not giving you a chance to gasp for a replacement before he’s rucking your nightgown up and spreading your legs wide as he settles between them. You watch as he works at his zipper, tugging down his pants just enough to free himself — cock all twitching and glistening with the same need that’s blaring through the rest of him. He strokes it a few times, watching you watch him — watching your hunger meet his in the middle.

“M’breaking, sweet’eart.” He’s growling, that’s the only way to describe it. Deep inflection rolling over you like rain. “But so are you.”

And then, he’s pushing in — burying himself inside the struggling wet walls of your cunt with a force that makes you cry out, back arching toward his chest as he leans over you — caging you under him with two strong forearms on either side of your head. The feeling is rendering. Euphoric in its agony. Thick head working you back open after months of thinking your own small fingers sufficed. But nothing compares to this. Each time a little like the first time — the only difference is back then he let you adjust, gave you all the time in the world to whine and cry about it.

You know that’s not the case now.

He’s selfish, like this. A thing of beauty. This man made from the earth you’ve claimed. A brutal kind of beautiful that most admire from a distance. Wolfish. Best to be kept at arms length — so rough and rabid he could eat you whole if he let himself. But instead, all he wants is this.

“Fuck.” He grunts into your hair as he bottoms out, snug against your cervix. “Gets tighter every fucken’ time.”

It’s a compliment, unspoken in the way he threads his fingers through your strands — because it’s the only way he knows how to handle everything he is. Because violence is second nature when being kind is so hard to come by. Because he’s learned that the only way he can exist is in the middle ground of it.

And fuck, if you don’t love him for it. The trying.

“N’you—ah—g-get bigger—“ you mumble, all exasperation and lust.

“Y’like that, yeah, pretty girl?” His voice is a deep rasp in your ear, a hint of the beast in his tone as he grinds deep. “Like how it feels when I fill you, s’fuckin deep.”

He bites down on your throat when you try to answer him and whatever you were going to say becomes a moan instead. Breathing. It’s all you can focus on as he draws out and then slides home — stretching you to an almost painful point as he pulls his hips back to do it again, his grip tight enough that it makes you wonder if his fingertips will bruise your skin the same way they do everything else he touches.

“Mmmfuck, Si—“ you hiss as he sets a desperate pace, each devastating thrust making you see all the stars in the heavens and then some. “G-god—“

He nods, even though mumbling the name of god right now is ironic at best. There’s no god for men like Simon. Something he’s long come to terms with and knows he no longer needs because you — you are his salvation. His safe haven. And you’ll help him rebuild himself, placing each of those broken pieces back together with all the benevolence of the most graceful god — even if it burns your hands to cinder in the process.

It’s an addiction — your addiction, his addiction, a feverish kind of thing made of violence and love in the same breath. Something that somedays you know you’d die for. You’d die for the fire he brings to life inside your soul. And you can tell by the way he holds you that he knows it, too. Your name a broken incantation on his lips like you’re a prayer. Like you’re his deity — the only one who ever made him believe in something greater than himself.

“Fucken’ missed you.” He buries his face in your hair as he says it, pace slowing, two digits searching for the mess between your legs and swirling. “Oh yeah. Missed y’so fucken’ much.”

It almost hurts, how your breath stutters in your chest — how you hips jerk up to meet where his fingers bully your clit.

“I—fuck. I missed you too.” You wail, climax dragged to the edge of your consciousness as he thrusts in slow and deep. “Ohfuck. Si m’gonna—c-cum—“

He grunts in your ear, the way he only does when he’s trying to regain control — and you know without words that he isn’t going to give you what you need just yet.

Instead, he pulls back — his tip just barely nudging at your entrance a moment before he’s tugging your knees to your chest and slamming back into you deeper than you’d thought possible. It’s so much, and it’s almost too much when he stills. You cling to him, whimpering like he’s stolen a limb with how he takes a second to just wait before he leans back over you — forcing himself that much deeper, lips going to the tip of your ear where the shell meets the edge of the cartilage.

“Not yet.” He mutters. “You’ll end me.”

It’s all a haze then, your consciousness a fragmented thing as he uses you to rebuild. As he uses you to heal the invisible wounds that war has left on his body and on his soul. Every thrust of his hips is an effort to force out the rage and replace it with something that can be good. That can hold you with open palms rather than crush you with clenched fists.

And you know, for all that he is — it’s a miracle then, to love him so freely.

“S-simon—“ you’re babbling, shins tucked to your chin as he ruts deep into you. Every thrust shoving you that much closer. “C-can’t—n-need to—“

“Go on then,” he grunts, reaching up to grasp your hair again. “Y’can—“

And he’s leaning closer still, until there’s not a single inch between you and your lips are brushing — frenzied breaths mingling hot in your mouth.

“But m’gonna right after you.” He punctuates it with a devastating punch to your cervix. “Got months t’give you, sweet’eart.”

You almost scream then, the sound echoing in the dark of the room and it seems to ignite something in him. A match to a kindling. His hand tightening in your hair as he thrusts in hard to the hilt over and over and over again. You’ve never seen him shake this hard. Never seen the way his eyes search yours like he’s memorizing everything you could mean. The way they hold you in yours, making you feel seen in ways you’ve never fathomed. And you think, then, even while the pace at which he drives into you is frenzied, vicious — not even giving you time to draw a breath before he’s slamming back inside — you’ve never been so fucking inlove with the entirety of him. All his broken and all his beautiful. His raw and his vulnerable. His spoken and his unspoken.

And it’s with that thought, that your orgasm bludgeons you across the chest — and you’re clenching and cumming around him, coming face to face with the stars you know he’d dragged down for you.

“S-si! Ohfuck—ohyes—“

He groans. “Mm. That’s it. S’good. S’fucken’ good f’me.”

And when he follows you down to the depths of them, it’s your name that he breathes — a ragged thing that sounds so sweet coming off his tongue you’d think it was sugar — spilling the months of pent up need deep into your bullied cunt, teeth barring against the edge of his lip as it’s ripped from him by the sheer force of yours.

And then, it’s quiet again. Nothing but your heavy breaths to mark the stillness. Your eyes find his in the low light — and you know then, that the storm has passed. He shifts so your legs can wrap around his waist before he cages you under him again — forearms under your neck as he holds you there, softening inside you.

“Fuck.” The exhale. The emergence.

“Welcome home.” You whisper it, and it holds every word you could ever manage.

It’s a while before he speaks. And when he does, it’s rough. The word he gives you is simple, but it means everything — the weight of his soul beneath it like an ancient thing.

“Home.”

[jinusajas]

06/05/25; 07:22pm

{ drabbles / headcanons }

[ how you help them when they are feeling stressed ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

you could feel the way sylus tenses up in response to your mere presence upon entering his office. his hands were outstretched, fingertips barely grazing the surface of the record player. the syllables that make up his name become locked within the confines of your throat. yet his posture was just too taut-

seemingly ready to spring into action at the slightest movement. you knew that if you couldn’t decipher his body language, then it was sure to end badly for you.

instead of confronting him (asking meaningless questions like what was wrong and how can i help) you give him the space he needed to calm down and work through any demons that he has.

even as you shut the door, you could see the way his shoulders visibly relaxes, knowing you made the right choice as the door became a physical barrier between you and him. you left him alone for several hours while in the company of mephisto, with you doing some chores around the base while making a simple meal for dinner.

with the mechanical crow’s eyes on you, you carry sylus’s portion toward his office, giving the door gentle taps before leaving the tray on the marble floors. despite how empty you felt without speaking to sylus, you knew it was best to give him all the space he needed.

opting to stay in one of the many guest rooms, you take your nightly shower and dress in one of your favorite robes, turning yourself in for the night.

the sheets felt too cold against your bare legs, almost foreign as the place was void of the lingering scent of his cologne. fighting back tears, you fluffed up your pillow and fell against it with an audible huff, clenching your eyes shut as you prayed that sleep would take you.

the moment you woke up, you were dimly aware of how the time read 3:43am and the sensation of powerful arms wrapped around your waist. the subtle sweetness of his cologne makes you visibly relax, your eyelids growing heavier as you felt the way sylus’s hands were intertwined with yours.

the sounds of his gentle snores was more than enough proof that sylus had gotten over whatever had upset him earlier, with him following you to the spare bedroom as he held you tightly within his embrace.

and there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

the clock was ready to strike at midnight when the sounds of the door unlocking makes your ears perk up. ready to greet zayne, you stand off to the side, only to be met with the disheveled version of your lover.

his ebony locks appeared to he a mess of tangles, as if he had spent the entire day running his hands through them. zayne barely looks at you, choosing instead to slam the door shut before disappearing into your shared bedroom.

zayne’s lack of acknowledgment admittedly left a bitter taste in your mouth, and you felt your heart breaking in response. never before had he given you the cold shoulder-

as if looking at you was the main source of his misery.

your throat clenches up in response, with you silently reheating his dinner that you had made for him hours ago. while you worked on warming up his food, you heard the sounds of the shower running as you visibly relaxed in response.

once his dinner was neatly placed on the table, you grab some extra sheets and blankets from the closet, quietly making your way to the guest bedroom. the room felt colder than usual, becoming all too evident as to how it was rarely used as you spread the comforter and sheets across the queen sized mattress. climbing onto the stiff mattress, you swallow back your tears and prayed that sleep would find you.

minutes seemed to morph into hours as you continue to lay stiffly on your side, unable to find the comfort of sleep without zayne holding you so gently against his chest. as you were close to wallowing in your misery, you stiffen at the sound of the door opening.

your name tinged with guilt falls from zayne’s lips as he shuts the door behind him. his every footstep was heard echoing throughout the room before you felt his added weight against the bed. you don’t resist him when he pulls you into his embrace, placing a kiss against your hair while muttering soft apologies to you.

soon, you began to feel drowsy, feeling his warmth seep into your bones as you cling to him as your sole source of comfort.

tensions were high within yours and xavier’s apartment, and you weren’t sure how to respond as you could feel the heat of his fury wafting off of him in waves.

you desperately wanted to do something-

to do anything to help with soothing his anger.

yet when you reached out to him, all you got was a slap against your hand in response. darkness was seen within his gaze, hiding the once true blue quality of his eyes as you took a step back in response.

he mutters something beneath his breath before leaving you alone within the apartment. as you were left alone, you felt your heart reeling from the aftermath of his expression-

like you were someone he despised.

the memory of his burning gaze kept replaying within your mind, yet deep down, you knew that something must have happened at the hunter’s association that made him lash out at you.

sensing that you needed to give him some space, you chose to get a spare blanket from the closet, making the couch your bed for the night until xavier worked through his anger. tears ran down your cheek, dampening your skin until you fell into a restless slumber.

you were uncertain how much time had passed, becoming roused from your sleep when you felt a warm hand gently framing at your face. “hey, scoot over. if you’re sleeping here, then i am, too.”

blearily opening your eyes, you saw xavier’s guilt ridden face in front of you. he rests his head against yours, making you swallow thickly before telling him, “you take the bed, i’ll stay out here until you feel better.”

“i already feel better, and i was stupid for taking it out on you.” not even giving you a chance to protest, xavier manages to pick up your form before settling himself on the couch. he places you directly above him, hands traveling down your sides while drawing comforting circles on your back.

hushed apologies were whispered throughout the night along with some shared kisses and promises to never let anyone’s emotions get the best of them.

rafayel seldom gets stressed-

but when he does, the young lemurian can and will do everything in his power to keep you within his embrace. he’ll turn up his charm and whine and beg at you to stay-

never once letting you out of his sights as he keeps you with your limbs locked together in an embrace. it was during these rare moments that rafayel will allow you to be the big spoon. he’ll bask in your warmth and the lingering scent of your shampoo, using your chest as a pillow as he vented to you about his day.

seeing his pouty expression while giving his full lips a plethora of kisses was the highlight of your day (and when he wasn’t busy being your second shadow) you would try to make him his favorite meals.

even during moments where you would attempt to give him his space, he would simply track you down and tackle you into giving him cuddles for the whole day.

and tonight was no different.

rafayel had spent several days finishing up an art piece, which in turn got in the way of his sleep schedule. he was put in a bad mood when a pounding migraine began to hit in response to the days spent without sleep. with all of the lights shut off, rafayel clings to you, hiding his face within your chest while softly whining about how painful everything felt.

yet you remain by his side all the same, kissing away his whimpers while threading your fingers through his hair, lulling him to sleep while allowing the migraine to melt away into the land of dreams.

much like rafayel, when caleb was ever stressed, instead of pushing you away-

caleb would try to keep you by his side for as long as possible. to him, you were the sole source of sunlight within his monochrome life-

what tied him to this world instead of gravity itself.

so during such trying times, it was difficult for the colonel not to find solace within your embrace.

just seeing your gentle smile and basking in the way you said his name was enough to make all the trials and tribulations of his day disappear into thin air.

there were times where caleb wanted nothing more than to keep you tied to him, wishing on numerous occasions to manifest the red string of fate itself to intertwine between both of your fingertips-

forever tying you to him.

during moments where he’s unable to voice his words aloud, he’ll simply crawl into your embrace. the rough tinge of yearning in his voice as he calls out your name would be your cue to delve your fingers into his hair, massaging his scalp while pulling him closer to your chest.

with his head turned, he’ll listen to the steady sounds of your beating heart, finding peace that you existed in the same world-

in the same timeline as him.

end notes: not my best work, but i wanted to write some more fluff and comfort and take a break from all the nsfw stuff for now ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡ currently unedited bc im too lazy hhhhhhhhh i’ll make any necessary changes later

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[kekewrites]

tw. mention of creampie, size kink, wholesome(?), reader is unable to speak human language + limited vocabulary, mention of abuse, abandonment issues

Imagine being a puppy!hybrid who's been saved by your current owner months ago. He found you wandering the streets alone, cold and starving.

It was pouring hard and the wind was extra harsh that day. Oh, how pitiful it is to see a hungry little pup girl rummage through the dirty trash bins, hoping to see scraps and edible food. That sight of you tugged on his tender heart, unable to walk away from such scene, he approached with quiet footsteps, not wanting to scare your cautious figure.

Your sharp senses have been dulled by fatigue and hunger as you didn't even notice his presence behind. Normally, you would've bolted away, afraid of how humans have treated you, but the way his voice sounded to your alert furry ears made your guard down. It was different from the people who abused and abandoned you. So gentle, the way his voice sounded like a lullaby.

That was the last thing you remembered after your first meeting.

***

You really are the best pet or companion he could ever ask for. Such a baby to take care of truly. He found out how you were unable to speak human language, often babbling and butchering words if you do try to talk. You do understand simple phrases and tones, which made it easier to communicate with you. He's not that knowledgeable about hybrids but he do know how to take care of a regular dog. It's hard to compare you to a dog or a human, you're neither closer to the other.

He severely underestimate how much of an attachment you formed with him.

It's not a bad thing.

But it certainly becomes harder for him to leave you for work.

"Come on... Don't look at me like that."

He really didn't want to leave you alone. Truly, he wants to be with you 24/7 but he needs to work, or else he won't be able to spoil you.

Your small pout and cute begging eyes, along with your droopy ears nearly made him stay. Nearly.

"Baby... I need to go. Don’t make that face," he murmurs, his voice soft as he takes in your pouted lips and droopy ears, tugging at his heartstrings. He gently pulls you up, pressing a kiss to your cheek, trailing to your lips, and peppering your face with soft kisses.

Don’t worry, he always thinks of you while he’s typing away at his lonely desk, his mind wandering to what you’re doing without him by your side. Were you playing just fine? Eating the meals he prepped for you? Being a good girl for him? His heart aches at the thought of you waiting by the door, staring at it just as he left it.

He never anticipated how slow time would crawl as he counted the minutes to the end of his shift, refusing to let a single minute become overtime. The moment he could, he raced through the garage and drove home.

"I’m back!" he calls, dropping his case of files and loosening his tie.

Thump, thump, thump.

Oh, how he loved the sound of your footsteps racing across the floor to reach him. It was the kind of sound that melted away the stress of the day, the kind of sound that reminded him why he hurried home in the first place. But this time, he wasn’t prepared for the way you threw yourself at him, arms flung wide as you collided with his chest.

He stumbled slightly, caught off guard, but quickly steadied himself, wrapping his arms around you instinctively. Your warmth, the way you buried your face in his suit—it all made his heart swell.

"Whoa there!" he said, chuckling softly as he ruffled your hair. "I missed you too, baby."

You looked up at him, your eyes bright with joy, and his exhaustion melted away completely. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, holding you close as if he’d never let go. Moments like this made everything worth it, every long hour and every sleepless night. You were his home, his safe haven, and the best part of his day.

"W-Wel... um," you stammer, your cheeks flushing slightly as your little fangs peek out with each syllable. "Wellum... b-back!"

He freezes for a moment, blinking as he stares at you, his head tilting slightly in confusion. Then, it hits him like a soft breeze, the realization dawning across his face.

Were you trying to say welcome back?

His heart squeezes as the thought sinks in, and a wide grin tugs at his lips. Aren’t you just the cutest? He crouches down to your level, his hands gently resting on your shoulders.

"Wellum back, huh?" he teases softly, his voice warm and playful. "Thank you, sweetheart. I feel very welcome now."

You shift nervously, glancing away with a little huff, but your lips twitch as if you’re trying not to smile. He chuckles and taps the tip of your nose affectionately, unable to resist how endearing you look.

"Do you know how much I missed you?" he says, his tone dropping into something softer, almost a whisper, as he pulls you into a hug. "Hearing that from you just made my day, you know that?"

Coming home was the best part of his day, he might quit his work and become a full-time freelancer if it meant spending more time with you.

Then one day came something with you. Your behavior became odd, strange even...

It didn't take too long for him to realize that you were approaching your heat. He read about it while researching about hybrids, the heat suppressants pills already stock in his drawers. The only problem was how uncooperative you were, spitting out the pills, running away when it was time for bathing, and being skittish whenever he was out. You were still his sweet girl, but you'd get moody and have an outburst.

"Come on, it's not that bad... Come here, baby." His voice is soft, coaxing.

Bath time was his least favorite thing to do. Not because he didn’t enjoy the idea of it—cleanliness was important—but because it always turned into a battle of wills. He never liked having to wrestle with you, and yet here you were, backed into the corner of the room like a wary kitten—wait, like a dog your arms wrapped protectively around yourself.

His gaze softens as he takes in your cowering, guarded figure. The way you look at him, a mix of defiance and uncertainty, makes his resolve waver. But the small trail of dirt smeared across your cheek and the strands of hair sticking to your face remind him there's no way around this.

"Baby, you can't stay like that forever," he says, tilting his head with an amused grin. He takes a cautious step forward, his movements slow, deliberate. "I'll make it quick, I promise. No bubbles this time, okay?"

You narrow your eyes suspiciously, not buying into his negotiations just yet. Inching further into the corner.

He sighs dramatically, running a hand through his hair. "This time, no tricks, just a nice, warm soak. You'll feel so much better."

When you don't budge, his grin turns sly. "But if you're going to make me chase you…" He starts rolling up his sleeves, his voice dropping to a mock-serious tone. "Then don't blame me if I catch you."

Your eyes widen slightly, and he sees the tiniest twitch of a smile forming on your lips, your tail wagging despite your best efforts to hide it. In that split second, he lunges forward, scooping you up effortlessly despite your squeals of protest. "Gotcha!" he declares triumphantly, carrying you toward the tub, half-heartedly squirming in his arms.

His smile softening as he presses a quick kiss to your forehead. "Now, let's get you cleaned up, stubborn little thing."

It was a nice warm bath, you placed on his lap as his arms wrapped around your waist for preventing your escape.

"See? Not that bad, hm?" He murmurs, almost groaning at how blissful he's feeling. The warm and comfortable water around him plus your nice, soft and plush figure on his lap made it ten times better than usual.

You were oddly quiet, your ears flopping. Your temperature higher than normal, he can see how you were breathing heavily.

Oh.

It's starting again hm?

Well, he's here to help... just not with the pill.

***

The scent of your arousal filled the air, sweet and intoxicating, making his own body react in kind. His cock twitched, already starting to harden.

"Hey, baby, you okay?" He asked softly, his voice rough with concern and desire. He tightened his arms around your waist, holding you close as you shifted restlessly on his lap. "You're burning up. Do you need me to cool you down?"

Your tail thumped against the side of the bathtub, betraying your excitement. His hands slid up your sides, tracing the curves of your body through the water. He leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"I can help you feel better. I know just what you need," He murmured, his voice low and seductive. His hands continued their exploration, cupping your breasts through the water. They were swollen and sensitive, the nipples hardening under his touch. His cock was fully hard now. Pressing his hips up against your ass, letting you feel his cock throb with need. He reaches down, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles. Your breath hitches, a soft whimper escaping your lips as he works you, bringing you closer to the edge.

"That's it, let me hear you," he rasps.

His tongue laves over your pulse point, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Marking you, claiming you. His fingers never stop their relentless assault on your clit, pushing you higher and higher until you're trembling on the brink, teetering on the edge of release.

"Come for me," he demands.

And you do, your back arching, a scream tearing from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you. He holds you through it, his fingers still working your clit, drawing out your pleasure until you're boneless and spent in his arms.

But he's not done with you yet. Not by a long shot.

He read that hybrid's heat last long for a few weeks, worst case scenario, for months. It could affect your well-being so he won't take any chances for that to happen.

"Hold on tight, baby," He murmured against your lips, his voice husky with desire. With a smooth motion, he stood up in the bathtub, water sloshing around them as he carried you in his arms. Stepping out of the bathtub, water cascading down his muscular body as he made his way to the bedroom.

He'll do anything for his girl.

Anything.

[konigslittleliebling]

i NEED to see könig get jealous when call-girl!reader gets occupied with another client~ i just discovered your blog and it’s absolutely delectable

- bear 🐻🩷

YOU LIKED THAT?? thank you sfm, it kinda flopped :( ok, ok client!könig jealous of other clients !! also, hi bear :33

mdni. creepy yandere, stalker!könig, privacy invasion, unrequited feelings, possessive sex.

“you come to my house smelling like other men.” he grunts, punctuating each word with an aggressive thrust of his hips. “you use my bathroom mirror to reapply your smudged lipstick.” he snarls, timing his snapping movements in tandem with every syllable. “you’re not even wearing my favourite shade.” he tells you, lifting a hand to wipe your lips clean of the nude paint. “i prefer the red one. you know how nice it looks smeared all over my cock.”

you’re a whimpering, blubbering ball of sweaty limbs — one leg hooked around his hammering hips whilst the other has been uncomfortably pressed against your chest and bent over his shoulder. “you come here with sweat on your skin and torn panties. you shouldn’t be wearing any panties at all when you come here, mouse.” you whine, mouth gaping as moans and ‘i’m sorry’s’ pour from it. you’re apologetic and rightly so, fingers scratching at any part of him you can reach, little claw marks stretching down his chest, arms and back.

“you come here with messy hair, make up all ruined.” he carries on, fucking his cock against your cervix. “do those other men fuck you like this, haser? nein? tell me.” you choke on a strangled moan, clusters of hair sticking to your waxy cheeks and dampening the pillow. “no! no one ever fucks me like you do, könig!” his rhythm increases at your confession, hitting into you deeper. “how do they fuck you, then?”

you wiggle beneath him but his grip on you strengthens and he lifts your hips, fingers biting into them as he settles on his knees, your legs dangling limply on either side of him. “n-umf! not like this!” you cry out, hands scrunching at the bed sheets. his movement stills and he starts sliding your cunt up and down his erect cock instead, thumbs pushing onto your lower belly. “do you think about me when you’re with them, hasilein?” he doesn’t care if you’re just telling him what he wants to hear; he just wants to hear your pretty voice say it.

“y— yes! fuck! yes, yes, yes!” you move your hands to fondle your breasts but he pinches your sides, silently telling you to let go of them so he can watch them lurch when he fucks you onto his stiff length. “i watch you with them, liebe.” he admits to you, so casually. your eyes widen, hiccups and gargles still tumbling from your open mouth. “what- ah! what d’you mean?”

“i installed a mic in your house, little mouse.” he explains, still spearing you on his girth whilst he tells you the horrifying extent of his obsession. “i take note of your clients’ addresses and then…” he starts rocking into you again, meeting your hips halfway so he can puncture your tight pussy needily. “i watch them fuck you.” he humps into you particularly roughly this time, face snarling. “they do not know what they are doing. they move rapidly and inconsistently. they do not prepare you or kiss your lips.” he keeps listing the wrongdoings and mishaps of your other clients, pointedly moving in and out of you with expert precision and skill. “you should charge them extra just for being so inadequate. they are like babies, useless.”

you groan, your chord tightening as he fucks some sense into you, or fucks you senseless. “good idea.” you manage through an exhausted smile. “i might up my prices.” könig settles your lower half back onto the bed, crawling forward so you’re chest-to-chest without pulling out. “cannot put a price on you, liebe.” he rolls into you with deliberate accuracy, knowing exactly how you like it and how to hit your perfect spot. “i am sick of those arschlochs occupying so much of your time.” he speaks against your temple, kissing it between words. “you will not see them anymore, will you?”

you frown, forehead crinkling with a combination of your approaching climax and confusion. “what—” a large hand sits atop your throat, not wrapping around, just resting over the soft slope of it. “you will stop seeing them now, won’t you?” könig reiterates, fucking his dick into your cunt’s velvety roof without an inch of him pulling back — hips sandwiched against yours. you blink up at him, your arse rocking into the mattress with his deep angle of his tempo. “könig..?”

“you do not fuck anyone else, schatz. not anymore.”

[suguann]

✎. simon will do this, if it makes johnny feel better.

tags. fem!reader, established relationship (simon/reader), threesome, double penetration in one hole, slight size kink, dirty talk [18+ only]

featuring. simon, soap

masterlist

Simon doesn’t share, but he makes an exception this time after his best friend’s date is a no-show, and he isn’t heartless enough to let Johnny hang out at the pub alone. Anybody will tell you: he can be a real nice guy when he wants to be.

And you don’t mind the extra company or another mouth to feed, that the flowers in the vase you put on the counter were meant for someone else, how Johnny gets flirty after his fourth beer, or— 

“Fuck, love,” Simon grunts into your shoulder when he finally eases his cock into you beside Johnny’s. “I guess you can take it like a champ, after all.”

But you hardly hear him over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears and the creaky mattress below your knees.

Johnny thumbs away your tears while you tremble above him, cupping your face to pull you into a kiss so you have something to focus on other than the feeling of being split down the middle—it takes an extra amount of effort not to clench down when you already feel like you’re about to break in two.

“Look at you,” Johnny mumbles against your lips. “Never thought you’d really let me do this.”

Then he pulls out, slick heat gripping him the whole way, and pushes deeper inside, punching a shaky breath out of you. 

He and Simon are in perfect sync, keeping you full while the other drags his cock out, only to fill you up again. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you are—at how much you like it—a hazy cloud settling over you as they use you for their pleasure.

Because Johnny’s sad, and you have a thing for making people happy.

Simon sucks little possessive marks into your shoulder and across your spine, murmuring filthy praise against your skin that consists of “sweetest and tightest pussy, my perfect little fucktoy” and “so fucking pretty.”

“That’s it.” Johnny’s voice is low and strained, barely heard above the loud squelching between your legs, but he sighs it into your mouth as he slowly comes apart. “Fuck—ah—you feel so good.”

A hand dips between you to press against your belly, where you can feel them, hot and heavy against your walls, making you squeal as a little ball of warmth travels down to your toes and all the way to the tips of your fingers. Simon fists your hair, tugging you away from Johnny so you’re looking up at him upside down. 

“So greedy that you needed two cocks to fill this soft little cunt, huh?”

You whine, unable to form an actual response outside of a few jumbled syllables, but a slap against your ass makes you whisper a shuddered yes.

He tells you to open your mouth before he spits onto your awaiting tongue, some of it hitting your cheek. When you swallow obediently, he smears what doesn’t make it across your lips with the thick pad of his thumb. 

“Don’t forget who you belong to,” he sneers, at odds with the soft way he kisses your cheek and reverently chokes on your name. Neither of you hear Johnny groaning under you as you clench down hard at the possessiveness in his voice—because at the feel of his wedding band pressing against your throat like a brand, how can you forget?

Simon doesn’t share, but this, he’ll do. Just this once because you’re already his, and he wants Johnny to know what it’s like to have a woman like you.

[141wh0re]

Just Imagine

gif by @bastardcompany

So, you're the new recruit for 141, the only girl, right. Right.

The guys all give you shit for your size in comparison to them, have a little laugh if you struggle through some training but ultimately will always help you with extra practice, and they always give you good natured teasing with sexist jokes. It never bothers you, you know they respect you and they find you to be a valuable asset to the team, and they trust in your skills.

But if a cocksure little fuckhead thinks they can spout off the same jokes at you, and any of the 141 guys hear about it? Oh, all bets off. They're stringin the bastard halfway up the flagpole, Ghost glaring daggers into them, making damn sure he knows he fucked up. Price is immediately filing the paperwork in preparation for what will, ultimately, end with the bastard being buried 6ft deep - after Ghost makes him dig his own grave - or, he's pissed himself from the promise of his undoing from the stares your brothers in arms give him.

"Get back in the kitchen. You don't belong in the army, slag." the bastard sneers at you as you're coming out of the weaponry.

You don't even have a chance to fire back at him and stand your ground, because here comes Ghost, shovel in hand, promise of death glimmering in his eyes with Soap and Gaz in tow.

The men crowd behind you, Ghost looming at your back, burning holes into the bastard's face, Gaz and Soap flanking either side of you.

"You wanna run that by us again, mate?" Gaz challenges.

It's as if the bastard suddenly has the fear of God instilled in him as his eyes widen, his mouth fumbling over incoherent syllables, and his hands raise in a placating manner.

"Go on. Ye had the balls tae say it tae 'er. Say it tae us." Soap chimes in, taking a menacing step towards the poor bastard trembling in his boots.

Poor bastard turns into a blubbering mess, desperately trying to backtrack over his previous statement.

You stand there with a smug smirk plastered on your lips, arms crossed over the front of your tac vest.

As soon as the guys send him on his merry way, Ghost turns to you, skull mask obstructing everything but those beautiful brown eyes.

"No one gets to bully you, unless it's us." He says sternly.

[urprettylildoe]

Warning: yandere behaviour, nsfw but not that much.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

yandere pilot who's so smitten with you <3

Red skirt, tight button up and a gorgeous smile with a matching red lip.

You looked absolutely sinful. And who could blame him, the jet-lagged pilot who needed to unwind. Once he laid his eyes on you, a particularly cute air hostess, he just couldn't look away.

"Such a sweet, sweet thing." His thumb and forefinger held your chin up, leaving no room for you to look away. He had managed to corner you after the flight, when the plane was all empty. "Always taking good care of us, hm?"

Shooting him a nervous smile, your eyes darted around the empty aisle. Even if someone was there, you're pretty sure they'd turn a blind eye to a mind like him.

You weren't blind to the way he looked at you in the cockpit — and he was a sight for sore eyes himself, with his mature yet handsome face and aura.

He continued speaking, talking about how you were "always so caring and kind" and what not. Even if you had met your fair share of flirtarious passengers, you still felt heat in your cheeks and your loins.

"Thank you, sir, but I-"

"What's the rush, honey?" The pilow drawled out the syllables of his sentences, pressing you up against a seat, toned forearm against the overhead bin.

The thought of someone walking in on you wasn't exactly pleasant. You could get fired and he would be practically untouchable. Oh, but how he wanted it happen so no more men could leer at you anymore in those tight uniforms.

Before you could even utter another word, he leaned in further, tone dropping an octave. "Tell me —" there was a veneer of friendliness about the way he spoke now. "— you got a thing for Ron?"

Oh.

You cringed internally. Your job as an air hostess meant that you had to flash a grin and tolerate the passengers no matter how tired you were, including the pilots. And it just so happened that you were caught smiling extra hard at the co-pilot.

This is bad.

Shaking your head frantically: "n-no, sir" with the look in his eyes and the absence of anyone on board, you doubted he'd let you off the hook. You needed to try, however.

"You sure? Cause I could've sworn that you were all over him back there"

"Yeah," your reply was meek; desperate for him to believe you, like waiting for a verdict with each ticking second.

Then, his lips quirked up in a haunting smile, "then it won't hurt if I get a taste of ya as well then."

Wrong answer.

You certainly learned that and the importance of thinking before speaking when he had you pressed up against a seat, head up your skirt and your thigh over his shoulder.

"Ohhh, m'gorgeous girl" he rasped, the words garbled like a boy speaking with his mouth too full. "So hot and bothered, all for me, not for Ron, not for any of those men-" his tongue swirled against your skin, igniting pleasure throughout your body.

Head thrown back and stars swimming in your vision, you could only pray that you'd even get out of the lion's den alive.

And right when he was done with a hand wiping at his mouth, you realised from the glint of his eye that he wasn't full just yet.

"Let's take this to the hotel, hm?"