#like i might sound a bit desperate but please send me asks they are so fun

[damfangirl08]

Im still working on the little legend and Mask fic (still undecided on the name of little legend put Wind wants to call him pinky) (Pinky does not like being called Pinky) but there is a lot of school things going on both for me and my beta reader so it will take some time but I appriciate any asks about it if anyone has any suggestions or questions!

[minnies-puppydoll]

OT8 SKZ Headcannons:

.• {how they orgasm}•.

OT8 x reader HCS..smutty, kinda fluffy

Warnings: degredation, breeding, mentions of choking/slapping, reader is called a bitch, lots of cum obviously, if i missed any lmk!

first post!! lmk how u feel abt it and send me asks!! :3 enjoy~*

smut below the cut….

Christopher Bahng:

• straight to his core. loud, strangled noises spill from his mouth as he ruts into you like a desperate dog.

• grips onto whatever he can grab on you. especially when his orgasm takes him by suprise, hes gasping and frantically finding your wrist to hold so he can ride it out.

• during, he’ll lean down and send a growlish-moan to your ear, in a “you did this to me.” way😵‍💫

• his cock definetly throbs, if he pulls out, all you can see is it bobbing up and down and shooting out hot cum.

• he’s dazed afterwards, looking at his mess with half-lidded eyes as he smears it with his thumb.

• hits him more forcefully than sensually, like a pent up release. and trust, if you choke or slap him while he’s cumming then he’ll roll his eyes back and cum 10x harder.

• same for if he’s cumming from your strap, then its all broken whines and drooly pillows from there.

• im a firm believer of breeding kink chan. he’ll press down on your tummy so you can’t miss the feeling of his warm cum swelling you up.

“ahn- fucking..feel that? good whores get bred out, right? thats fucking right..made me cum, sweet girl..”

Lee Minho:

• sooooooo long.

• his dancer core makes his orgasms last forever.

• you’ll be done touching him, and a minute later his cock is still throbbing and squirting out little droplets of cum.

• usually has deeper, longer moans throughout. but when it first hits, he lets out a loud, pornographic noise akin to a yell.

•his head lowers and his face is pained and focused. hands trembling slightly at how hard it hits him.

• makes the prettiest faces during it. all pleasure dazed, like hes in a trance, or like he can’t believe how intense his orgasm is.

• def an eye roller. his orgasms hit hard, not in a shaking way, but he’ll throw his head back and grip onto you, so he can hold you still while he works through his orgasm.

•when his eyes arent rolled to the back of his head, they are either closed or heavy lidded and unfocused.

• coming back to this, he prefers holding you still while he cums. hes way too sensitive for any extra motion. if you try to move on top of him, he’ll firmly cling onto your shoulders to keep you still.

• always a bit exsausted afterwards, but still laughs in disbelief at how long it really is.

“ah!…stay still. stay fucking still, please. just let me cum…mmfh- fuck..feels so good.”

Seo Changbin:

• goes quiet when he’s about to cum. like its the only thing he can think about.

• 1/3 of moanracha. one of the only ones that moan (but turns kinda growl-ish at the end🤭)

• he knows his strength, so when he cums he tries to either get off of you or relax his body as much as he can. (thats why he prefers you on top)

• sounds in pain but he’s definetly not. he forgets how good you make him feel sometimes.

• a lip-biter, its how he calms himself down, also a throbber!! his hips never stutter though, he’s very good.

• a slut for his neck being touched, bite or kiss on his neck and he’ll cum so good for you.

• like i said earlier, he wants to hold you close so bad! but, he’s nervous he might crush you. so he trains himself for you, softly fucking into you and holding his trembling body back from just holding you down and pounding you.

• soft binnie boy in his dirty talk, his strength doesn’t match his words as he softens his body and starts to cum inside you.

“soft- soft..g’nna fuck you softly, yeah? sweet girl..making me cum..so good to me.”

Hwang Hyunjin:

• 2/3 of moanracha. he moans unashamed, long, sensual noises that have you dripping.

• treats an orgasm like a piece of art, making sure to cum right on your pretty pussy and admire.

• his thighs tremble and his mouth hangs open, pleasure spreading along his body and glowing in his sides, eventually spilling all out onto you, his stunning muse.

• when he’s fucking you, there is nothing in the world that could break his concentration. its like you both have built this sweet atmosphere in the air, heated colors flash in your mind, trapping you with him.

• and when he cums, that atmosphere shatters into a million pieces, like nothing else in the entire world matters besides you and the intense pleasure you’re making him feel.

• he likes when you cum before him, so he can watch your every reaction to his hard work.

• but he likes it even better when you cum with him, he likes sharing the moment with you, so he might even make you hold it.🤭

“…fuck- hold it. i’m almost there, don’t fucking cum yet..fuck! i love you! i love you..so much.”

Han Jisung:

• 3/3 of moanracha. his moans are loud and uncontrollable.

• BIGGEST EYE ROLLER. ive seen him do that shit too many times in videos, im so serious he does that when he cums.

• he also cannot control that tongue of his, shits always out of his mouth while drool drips from his bottom lip.

• he just loves feeling good!! he’ll take anything you give him as long as he gets to cum.

• his poor little cock gets so red. drips a massive amount of precum just to squirt out such a pathetic little load.

• loves teasing his cock after he cums. he’ll rub himself on whatever he can, twitching at the little sparks of harsh pleasure that it grants him.

• says “fuck me” even if he’s topping, such a freaky ass bitch😭

• and if you’re pegging or fingering him, you’ll be suprised at how slutty that little mouth of his is, drooling and babbling out such meaningless little praises and begs.

• grips your wrist and thrusts frantically into you with loud, pathetic whines. his eyes are a bit teary when he places his hand on your tummy, begging you to cum because of how overstimulated he’s getting.

“ah..fuck- fuck me, fuck me harder..shit. ah, please cum- ah..soon. please? s’too much.. i know, im pathetic..m’sorry.”

Lee Felix:

• so sensual. like his orgasm is fire, burning his body so slowly.

• his hips may be frantic, but his voice is shuddery as he whispers pretty words and praises into your ears.

• his face heats up so much its unreal. he cant help but blush at how good you make him feel!!

• that deep voice in your ear😵‍💫 makes u wanna be silent so you can hear him better.

• small load, nothing too much, but it tastes so sweet. you beg him to cum on your face or in your mouth, he feels a little bad but he can’t hold it when he sees you stick your tongue out while he jerks his cock off.

• likes recieving pain when he cums, like scratching his thighs or biting down on his shoulders. it embarrasses him but also makes him drool🫶🏽

• okay fr guys..i think felix can squirt. HEAR ME OUT.

• rub the palm of your hand over his tip rapidly, or agressively rub his slit and he’s writhing and arching under you. gripping your wrist and begging you to slow down before he hides his face and squirts all over his tummy.

• he’s such a pleaser, that he’s unable to focus soley on his pleasure. so if he accidentally cums before you, he’ll pull out and mutter little apologies as he rubs your clit, ruining his own orgasm while shoving his face in your neck.

“..ah! fuck! sorry…m’sorry..hah- so sorry, angel..please cum- please cum too?”

Kim Seungmin:

• when he's subbing, he's a desperate humper. wether its your shoe, or your hand, or even your belongings hes frantically fucking into it, trying to cum hard.

• but the way he cums is still the same, no matter what role he's playing.

• it looks earth shattering. he twitches and shakes, and his eyes are tightly shut (when they arent rolled back to his brain)

• he tries to have you lock eyes with him when he cums, but it always ends up with him breaking it almost immediately.

• prefers to cum on your lower back or tummy, but he's a bit of a clean freak so this preference doesn't help him at all😭

• very dazed and tender after. he'll look at you with loving eyes and caress your cheek, kinda like the sweet version of chan's "you did this to me" attitude.

• he used to be very shy about the way he acted when he came, so he would hold it in, but once you tried to forced one out of him anyway. poor boy was begging you to "wait" and "stop," but his body betrayed him and twitched into your hand.

"mm'ah! wait! stopstop' please- ill cum! please."

(or..dom ver bc im a slut 😈)

"oh? fine..make me cum then, bitch..c'mon- oh fuck..that's a good girl. only thing you're good for, right slut?”

Yang Jeongin:

• doesn’t hit him quite as hard as the others, now that doesn’t mean its not enjoyable for him.

• it just means that his buildup is stronger than his orgasm, it comes in blissful waves rather than the others.

• when it hits, his jaw drops and his eyes close, but soon after 4 seconds of that, hes giggling about it and using it to give you more pleasure.

• big ass load. he cums so much its not funny. he likes cumming in you too, so good luck with that!

• whispers long, teasing groans in your ear to feel you squeeze around him.

•he enjoys fucking more than the actual climax, so he’ll usually hold his orgasm off until you’re begging him to cum.

• then, he’ll tilt his head and glide his cock along your clit with the same pace, like he never stopped fucking you. laughing at your cries and pleads.

“hm..aw, poor baby..want my cum? need my cum inside you? hm..ill think about it.”

[swytdoll]

emoloser!choso, who nearly breaks down when you hint at removing the condom for the very first time. “are you for real...?” he gasps, his eyes fluttering, toes tensing up at the mere thought. a gentle smile creeps onto your face as you nod. “i’m for real real.” you hum, savoring the way he trembles. his breath catches with each caress of your hands across his bare chest. "ugnh, i...i’m not sure if i’ll be able to—hold on!" his voice cracks as your hand clasps his shaft, pad of your thumb teasingly circling the sticky slit.

choso's hips twitch uncontrollably, the warmth emanating from him palpable. he mutters that he might faint as you tighten your grip, his whole body quaking. and in that moment, he thinks to himself, this is how i could go. my pretty girl playing with my cock, really, what more could a guy ask for?

you choose to show compassion to the unfortunate loser as you float above him. he truly is a gracious victor, and honestly, you enjoy being the one in charge. watching him writhe underneath you. slowly you take the condom that dangles loosely from the rubber ring and slide it back over his arousal, playfully building up the tension. “ah! don’t i’ll cum—“ choso shudders, hands sinking into your thighs.

a slight shift is all it takes to position the tip just right. then you lower yourself onto his fat size, observing the way his eyes flutter shut, his jaw slackens, and his eyebrows arch in surprise. the sounds he emits are captivating; he starts with a whimper that evolves into a deep moan. his body tightening, muscles taut with the overwhelming sensation of your walls inviting him.

it sends chills down your spine, knowing you can turn emoloser!choso into a quivering mess with just your cunt. you revel in the sensation of his hands gripping you tight, fingers pressing into your skin as you rock back and forth, savoring every bit of his length as he splits you. he wants to tell you how good it feels, how good you’re doing, but the words come out as mangled sobs.

delicately you grasp his hands, guiding them to your chest. his thumbs caress your stiff nipples with a natural ease. a soft moan escaping your lips as you tilt your head, lost in the moment. you’re so fucking pretty, eyebrows scrunched over flickering eyelashes, waves of hair splashing down your back as you ride his taut cock. he see’s the way your plump lips quiver each time he bottoms out inside you, you’re enjoying this just as much as he is. if not more. "oh my god, oh my god—can’t take it anymore! m’sorry!” he stammers and with a sudden shift, he turns you onto your back, parting your thighs before diving back into your warm pussy, his mouth forming a perfect 'o' in bliss.

your fingers tangle in the sheets as he drives into you with increasing intensity, each thrust more urgent than the last. your heels press into his backside, drawing him nearer, compelling him to push harder. a deep groan escapes him, resonating through his body. "cho!" you gasp, the pleasure overwhelming. his fat dick throbs and swells, his eyes squeezed shut, while his hands clutch your waist with a possessive grip.

he doesn't mean to be so rough with you, but god, does it feel good. "feels so— fuck, fuck, fuck," he's crying out, leaning down to press the sloppiest kiss against your lips, his black hair falling into his eyes. his purple-tipped fingers hold your cheeks and pull them apart, the dark eyeliner on his nose smudged while his heated skin glimmers in a light sheen of sweat.

he pushes into you deep, the tip of his cock bumping your cervix. any other time he'd be embarrassed to be acting like this... so pathetic for your pussy, but he can hardly help it. you're so damn warm, sucking his length in, letting him ruin you. he’s tugging his lip ring between his teeth as he fucks you ditzy, hands intertwining with yours as he fucks you into the comforter. “look at me... please?” his voice is desperate; he wants to fill you up. he swears he’s gonna come when you flutter open those pretty little eyes and lock them with his. “oh my—shitttt. can’t b-believe you’re m-my girlfriend—m’so lucky. hah!” his breath is hot against your skin, and you can feel the tension building in every thrust.

choso imagines this is what heaven feels like, he swears he can feel every ridge of your cunt.

emoloser!choso who forces his tongue down your throat as he shoots his load across your cunt. he’s mortified. he’s come before you. “fuck fuck, i-i’m sorry!” he’s whimpering, remaining spurts of cum emptying from his sore balls. you giggle, running your hands over his lips then his eyebrow piercing, then burying them in his sticky wolf cut. “it’s okay baby boy. . .” your hand guides him down, and he immediately catches on. “let me take care of her, yeah?” and before you know it he’s spreading your thighs apart, eating you like a starved man.

[y3sterdaysproblem]

greedy - m.s + c.s

summary: two is always better than one

warnings: filth.

wc: 8k

inspired by these two asks

dividers by @issysh3ll

This was your absolute favorite place to be.

Eyes closed, cheek pressed into the pillow that your arms were wrapped around, slender fingers gently holding your waist in place as your boyfriend languidly thrust into you from behind, the sound of both of your moans filling his room.

You loved sex with your boyfriend. It was always satisfying and you always ended up happy, feeling loved and overall satiated.

But there was a small part of you, maybe bigger than you’d care to admit, that wished sometimes he would just get a little bit rougher with you. It was always gentle and tender sex, and you loved it, but sometimes you just needed to be manhandled a little bit. That part of you buried deep inside was slowly crawling towards the surface, begging to be satisfied some time soon or you might freak out.

“Faster,” you groan out, hands gripping your pillow roughly as the slow thrusts inside you felt like a teasing drag, the foreplay before getting your brains fucked out. Though it wasn’t foreplay, it was the main event, and today you needed more.

Your boyfriend obliged, picking up his pace slightly, hands gripping your hips harsher to keep up with his thrusts, pulling you back into him as the sound of your bodies slapping together increased.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Fuck,” you mumble, pulling your hips forward so his dick slips out of you, quickly turning around to face him. “Sit.” You demand, grabbing his shoulder and shoving him towards the headboard. He agreed, like the good boy he is, sitting against the headboard and staring up at you with wide, confused eyes.

“Are you okay?” He asked you sweetly, reaching out for your body as you moved to straddle him, knees on either side of him now.

You grabbed his dick and lined it up with your entrance, dropping down until he filled you up again, the change in angle making you moan out breathily. “Yes, I’m okay. Just need more,” you tell him, placing your hands on his shoulders as you start to bounce yourself on his cock, whining softly at the feeling of him inside of you finally pleasing you in the way you desperately needed, setting the faster pace you desired so badly.

You throw your head back as you moaned loudly, feelings his hands just rubbing over your thighs, your hips, your waist, not even getting close to your tits. It’s not like that specifically helped you get off, but he was so nervous to push your boundaries that he just kept his hands in his so called safe zones, helping you bounce on top of him.

You were so close, and the sounds coming out of your mouth indicated that, but it wasn’t enough. Your boyfriend buried deep inside of you pressing up everywhere you needed him was not going to send you over the edge. You needed more.

You pull your eyes back to his blue ones staring back at you, glazed over in ecstasy, reaching down to grab one of his hands. “Choke me,” you tell him, pulling his hand up to your throat.

“What?” He chokes out, eyes widening at your words. “Choke you? I can’t-,”

“Please,” you beg him, using your own hand to wrap his fingers around your neck, encouraging him to squeeze. “I need it.”

He tentatively started squeezing his fingers together, the lack of oxygen sending you over the edge, hips getting sloppy as your orgasm washed over you, your hands resting on his shoulders as you came, loud moans leaving your lips.

“Fuck, Chris,” you choke out, gasping when the hand falls off of your throat, ripping your eyes open to stare at your boyfriend in shock, jaw dropped.

Shit.

“What did you just say?” Matt questions, grabbing your hips to throw you off of him, shocked expression clear on his face. “Chris?!”

You stared at him, heart racing, not knowing how on earth you’d get yourself out of this one. “I… um…” you break eye contact, looking around the room at anything but your boyfriend.

“Did you just cum to the thought of my fucking brother?!” Matt screeches, standing up off the bed to collect his clothes.

“I meant to say Matt!” You defend yourself, crawling off the bed after him. “Come on, I mix up your names all the time, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Matt scoffs, pulling his boxers on quickly. “Never in bed, though. God, I can’t fucking believe you, you’re sick in the head.”

You grab a shirt off of the floor and throw it on, grateful it comes down to mid thigh. “Matt, I didn’t fucking mean anything by it,” you tell him, grabbing his bicep, but you don’t even sound convincing to your own ears, let alone his.

“Yeah, right. You didn’t mean anything by saying my brother’s name while you’re literally on my dick.” Matt turned to glare at you, eyes filled with an expression you’ve never seen before. You hated yourself for finding it so sexy.

“Matt,” you whine, both of you facing each other now. “I didn’t mean it, you’re looking way too deep into this.”

Matt huffs, pulling his shirt over his head more aggressively than normal. “Whatever. Go fuck Chris about it.”

You couldn’t help it. You really couldn’t help it. Your expression lit up for a very split second, excitement clear in your face, before you wiped it away as quickly as it appeared. Matt noticed, though. He noticed everything.

“Oh my fucking god, you actually want to fuck Chris!” He accused loudly, looking at you in disgust. “I can’t fucking believe you, am I seriously not enough?”

You groan, throwing your head back in frustration before pulling it back up, staring at your boyfriend who glared back at you, his cheeks turning red from yelling. “Can you blame me?!” You screech, hands splayed out in front of you dramatically. “You’re hot, he’s hot, but he’s just… he’s got that oomph that I need in bed. It’s purely sexual, Matt. I’ve heard about how he is in bed and I can’t help but think about him fucking the daylights out of me and I’m sorry but it’s just a fantasy! I’d never cheat on you with your own brother, you have to know that.”

Matt rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, mumbling obscenities under his breath. “You’re fucking ridiculous, I can’t even process this. I’m going out.” He tells you, turning to leave his bedroom and eventually the house, leaving you standing there in shock.

After a few moments you grab your underwear off the floor and slide them on before leaving his bedroom and going to the kitchen to grab yourself a drink, swearing to yourself when you see Chris leaning against the counter, smirking when his eyes meet yours.

“What’re you guys yelling about in there?” He asks smugly, taking a sip out of the can in his hand.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you reply sassily, ripping the fridge door open. You grab your own drink and crack it open, turning your body to face the boy whose eyes never left your figure, trailing over your bare legs and the swell of your ass underneath the t-shirt.

Chris hums to himself, setting his can down on the counter before resting both of his hands on the cold marble on either side of him. “I think I have an idea. Luckily for me you’re really loud when you’re flustered so I didn’t even have to eavesdrop that hard.”

Your cheeks flush, knowing now that he more than likely heard everything you said and knew the subject of yours and Matt’s argument and the reason he stormed off. It didn’t scare you, though. If anything it made you feel a small rush of excitement at the thought of Chris knowing that you wanted him.

“Kinda fucked up, don’t you think?” Chris asks, pushing himself away from the counter and towards you. “Saying someone else’s name in bed? Your boyfriend’s brother? That’s sick.” He’s right in front of you now and you’re glued to the ground, eyes locked on his as he got closer and closer.

“I didn’t mean it,” you tell him quietly, knowing he wouldn’t believe you.

Chris laughs, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his gaze intimidating enough to make your heart speed up, not knowing what to expect out of him. “Sure you didn’t. I heard you. You fantasize about me. You think about what it would be like if it was me fucking you instead of Matt.” His hand slides down to the side of your neck, holding it there before he moves it to the front, fingers ghosting over your throat, making your breath catch. “I bet you’d let me take you right here in the kitchen, wouldn’t you? Like the little slut you are.” He emphasized his words with a squeeze and you whined.

“No,” you tell him, eyes boring up into his. “I wouldn’t. Not without Matt’s approval.”

It was true. As bad as you wanted Chris, needed him, you would never do it without your boyfriend’s consent, which you understood was a huge stretch and probably would never happen, and now Chris was just making this extra hard on you to push past.

Chris smiled down at you, his free hand reaching down and under the hem of your shirt, fingertips trailing on the band of your underwear. “What if I told you he already gave me permission?”

You swallow, which proved a little difficult considering the hand around your throat, wide, excited eyes peering up at Chris, meeting his sadistic gaze as he held you close, the heat from his body so near sending tingles down your spine. “I wouldn’t believe you. I-I’d wait for him to tell me.”

Chris smirks and drops his hand from your neck, sliding it down over your chest, fingers ghosting over your hardened nipple under the shirt you wore. “A loyal little slut,” he hums, taking a step away from you.

You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding, relaxing your shoulders as distance was created. “‘M not a slut just because I like rough sex.” You tell him in a slightly pouty voice, crossing your arms over your chest.

Chris laughs loudly, pushing himself to sit on top of the counter. “No, you’re a slut because you want to fuck your boyfriend’s identical brother. I bet you’d try to fuck Nick, too if he wasn’t gay.”

Your jaw drops, clearly offended. “I would not!” You squeak in denial. “I don’t even really want to fuck you, I just… I just want to be fucked in a way that satisfies the dirty, dirty parts of me I hide far away in the back of mind.”

Chris smiles, spreading his legs slightly. You can’t help your gaze dropping to the clear bulge in his grey sweatpants, begging for your touch. “Yeah, and you know exactly who can satisfy that part of you.”

You sigh, turning your body away from him and moving towards the table, sitting down in the chair and staring off into their living room, mind racing. It was true, you knew Chris would be able to satisfy you in a way you’ve never had before. You’ve heard him talk about his sex life and it was exactly what you needed, what you craved. The only obstacle was your boyfriend, his brother. There was no way he would let you sleep with Chris. Not only was he possessive but he was so sweet, so tender. He was always so afraid of hurting you in bed or being too rough that he just kept it to what he knew, which was slow, love making intimacy. You loved it, too, but once in a while you just needed to be railed until you cried.

You were startled out of your thoughts by a pair of hands landing on your shoulders, thumbs digging in to try and relieve some obvious tension. “You’re not going to be able to resist me forever,” Chris tells you lowly, leaning down so his lips are next to your ear. You gasp, staying completely still as his hands trail down over your collarbones until they’re resting on each one of your breasts, massaging lightly. “I can’t resist you either. I’ve wanted you for so long, gotten off to the thought of you so many times. Thought about how good you’d be at taking my dick. I bet you’d take it like a fucking champ, wouldn’t you?” His right hand continues moving down until it’s right above your barely covered core and you knew it was terrible, really you did, but you couldn’t help your legs spreading open on the chair, allowing for his fingers to dip further. He wasted no time in slipping them into your panties, a whine leaving your lips as they slid through your still wet folds. He places his lips on your neck, moaning quietly at how wet you were, having to hold himself back from throwing you on the table and fucking you for anyone to see. “You’d be so good for me, hm? Bet you’d let me do anything I wanted until all you can say is my name.”

Your hand shoots up to grab his wrist in front of you when you feel his two middle fingers dip inside of you, a whiny moan leaving your lips as your head fell back against the chair, eyes fluttering shut. “Chris,” you whimper breathily, back arching into his fingers.

“This doesn’t look like waiting for permission to me,” Chris remarks smugly, and all you can do is breathe out another moan as his fingers curl inside you, knowing exactly how to touch you and where you need him.

The moment is ripped apart by the sound of the front door opening. Your head shoots up quickly and Chris pulls his hand from your underwear in no hurry, moving to stand next to you now. Your eyes look up at him worriedly, but he only smirks down at you and slips his fingers past his lips, groaning as he sucks your arousal off of them, getting his first taste of you, knowing he would need more.

He drops his hand from his mouth and wipes his saliva off on his pants when Matt comes into view, gaze landing on the two of you existing far too close for his comfort now that he knows what he knows.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, clearly annoyed. “You want to fuck her, too, don’t you?”

Chris shrugs at his brother, lips curling up slowly. “Wouldn’t be mad about it.”

-

Matt was quiet for days, even when you’d come over he barely spoke to you, only grumbling replies to you as you rambled on about whatever nonsense flooded your brain that day. He couldn’t stop thinking about your slip up and how he walked in on you and his brother in the kitchen, tension so palpable he could almost taste it. Every time he ran into Chris in his own house his heart would race, unable to stop himself from thinking about what he now knew. You wanted to fuck Chris, and Chris wanted to fuck you. Chris didn’t hide it anymore either. Whenever you came over he would let his gaze wander, no matter what you wore. Jeans, sweatpants, leggings, he always soaked in your appearance before meeting your eyes and sending a smirk your way, letting you know he was still thinking about you.

It was so filthy and wrong and you loved it, even if you told yourself you didn’t.

You and Matt hadn’t had sex since that day, and you didn’t blame him. You’re sure it would take a while for him to get over it, but you were starting to get antsy. You loved sex and you loved having a boyfriend that you could have sex with whenever you want, so now that he was withholding from you despite you laying in his bed cuddled up and watching movies, it only made your desire grow stronger.

“Matt,” you speak quietly, turning your head from where it rested on his shoulder to look up at his face.

“Hm?” Is all he replies, keeping his eyes trained on the television in front of you both.

You slide your hand over his stomach and down to the waistband of his jeans, dipping lower to palm him through the fabric. “I’m horny,” you whine.

Matt grabs your hand and brings it back up to his stomach, resting it there. “I’m not.” He responds bluntly, still not looking your way.

You huff. “Are you going to punish me forever? It was an accident, Matt, I love having sex with you, I need it.”

Matt finally turns his head to face you, eyes locking on yours. “It may have been an accident but you meant it. Forgive me for not liking the fact that you moaned somebody else’s name in bed.”

You groan and roll onto your back, crossing your arms in a more childlike way than you’d care to admit. Then, you got an idea.

“Fine, you don’t want to fuck me? I’ll do it myself.” You lift your hips and push your sweatpants down to your feet until you’re able to kick them all the way off, lower half left just in a small thong.

“What are you doing?” Matt asks nervously, staring down at your half naked body.

“Getting myself off since you won’t do it,” you tell him obviously, using your fingers to pull your panties to the side, fingers dipping near your entrance to gather the wetness that’s already formed from how horny you were, dragging it up to your clit and starting to form circles on it, eyes fluttering shut and a small breath slipping out of your mouth.

“Stop,” Matt protests, but does nothing to stop you, only keeps his gaze locked on where your fingers massage your core.

“Fuck, Matt,” you whine, hips grinding slowly on your own hand. You slid your hand down and slipped your fingers inside yourself, letting out a higher-pitched moan. “Need you so bad, please.”

Matt watches you with wide eyes, unable to look away from you as you pleasure yourself, his pants no doubt getting tighter. He’s never seen you like this, touching yourself and moaning his name while he sits back and watches, too stubborn for his own good.

This went on for a few minutes until you were trembling, pleas falling from your lips as you begged Matt to touch you, now mostly just as a way to tease him since you were nearing your climax even without him, but you wanted him to know that it was him you needed, not anybody else.

“Please, can’t do it without you, need you,” you cry, turning your head to meet Matt’s eyes that stared back at you lustfully, about to give up and touch you, fuck you, whatever you wanted.

Until the door swung open.

Your eyes shot to the open doorway, landing on Chris who had his mouth open about to speak when he saw you sprawled out on the bed touching yourself, his breath catching in his throat. His attention was drawn to your fingers working on your clit, then his gaze trailed up your body until he met yours, your eyebrows furrowing before you shut your eyes and threw your head back, thighs closing around your hand as you came hard, body shaking through it harshly, loud moans leaving your lips.

Shit. Again.

Matt yells out, ripping you out of your high. “Did you just cum to my brother again?!” He stands up from the bed, eyes shooting between the two of you quickly. “God, just fuck each other and get it over with already.”

Chris turns to his brother and smiles, tilting his head excitedly. “Really?”

Matt looks at him in shock, wanting to literally pull his hair out at how dumb Chris was. “No!”

-

You hadn’t heard from Matt for a solid twenty four hours after the last incident, and you really couldn’t blame him. It was bad enough the first time when the thought of Chris had pushed you over the edge, but watching it happen in real time, seeing how you fell apart at the sight of Chris watching you, it was understandable that he needed his distance. You wouldn’t even be surprised if he broke up with you after that.

Surprisingly, your phone rang out through your bedroom with a text notification from your boyfriend, though all it read was an ominous ‘come over’. You didn’t have to be told twice, though, and you put on some acceptable clothing instead of your pajamas before leaving your house, heading for the triplets’ place.

It didn’t take you long to arrive as you weren’t very far, but for some reason you had a nervous, yet excited, feeling creeping up inside of you. Was Matt finally going to have sex with you? Would he be rougher than he normally was? Or were you thinking about this all wrong and he was actually about to break up with you and break your heart.

Whatever it was, you were about to find out as you were already letting yourself into their house, calling out loudly to let Matt know you had arrived, but you were met with complete silence.

“Hello?” You called again, trudging up the stairs to their living room but finding it empty. “The fuck?”

The lights were dim in the house and you didn’t see anyone immediately like you typically did. “Matt?” You call out, setting your purse down on the couch. “Chris? Nick?” Still nothing.

You sigh, annoyed at the lack of response, before you walk over to Matt’s room and push the door open, seeing him sitting at the edge of his bed nervously. Your eyes stay on him for a few seconds before you shift your gaze to the more dominant, confident energy in the room. Chris is sat in Matt’s gaming chair with his hands resting in his lap, legs spread slightly, staring at you hungrily as you slowly stepped in the room “Hi..” you mumble, looking back and forth between both of them. “What’s going on in here?”

Matt looks up at his brother, prompting him to speak, but Chris smirks, nodding his head towards you. “You tell her, that’s your girl.”

Matt rolls his eyes, annoyed at his choice of words. Sure, you were his girl now, but not for long. He looks back at you, looking like a dog with his tail between his legs. “I want you to have sex with Chris,” he says in a monotone voice.

Your eyes widen in surprise, feeling like you must’ve heard him incorrectly. “You what?” You ask sharply.

“Don’t make me say it again,” Matt grumbles, eyes dropping back to his lap.

“Matt, baby, I don’t need to fuck Chris,” you tell him, walking over to sit next to him on the bed, resting your hand on his thigh. “You’re more than enough for me.” Lie. You needed more.

Matt scoffs, turning to meet your eyes. “You want to fuck Chris and you’re never going to not want to so I might as well just let you do it instead of find out you guys are sneaking around.”

Chris stands up from the chair at that moment, stalking towards you slowly. “Tell her the full truth, Matt.” He says lowly, sitting himself behind you, sandwiching you between both of them. His hands come up to rest on your leg, much higher than you expected, making you jump. “Tell her how you want us to take her at the same time.”

You whip your head around to look at Chris in shock, then turn back to your boyfriend. “Both? A-at the same time?”

“If you can take it,” Chris taunts, slipping his hand underneath the shorts you wore. “Think you can handle it, princess? Both of us?”

“Yes,” you immediately answer, feeling your skin start to heat up at Chris’s touch, though your eyes remained on Matt’s, seeing them darken at the way you reacted, knowing he was about to see a completely different side of you.

“We’ll be gentle, I promise,” Matt smiles at you, and you couldn’t help the look of disappointment that flashed over your face, turning your head to Chris to see if that statement was true. When you met Chris’s eyes, he smiled sinisterly at you, shaking his head slightly.

“Maybe you’ll be gentle,” he says directed towards Matt, keeping his gaze down on you. Your lips curled up into the beginnings of an excited smile, eyes lighting up. “But I don’t think she wants me to be gentle, do you, princess?”

You quickly shake your head, letting him know you want him to be anything but. Chris hums, pulling his hand away from you completely. “Thought so.” He stands up and walks towards his phone that was on Matt’s gaming desk, fingers dancing over it for a moment before low, sensual music filled the room, his phone connected to speakers that Matt had set up a few months ago. You weren’t complaining, if anything you loved having a background of music to your sexual endeavors, finding that it amps up the excitement of everything.

Matt moves to stand up to rid himself from his clothes, leaving him in just his underwear, and once he’s done he crawls back up the bed to lean against the headboard, eyes locked on you the whole time. Your heart is pounding when you turn to see Chris throwing his shirt on the ground, sweatpants slung low on his hips as he walks back towards you, sitting on the bed next to you and leaning back on his hands. “Come here,” he demands and you oblige, quickly moving to swing a leg over his lap, making yourself comfortable on top of his thighs. “Take your shirt off.” Chris nods his head at you in a cocky manner, feeling his dick twitch in his pants at the tension, feeling just how nervous you were in front of him.

You peek behind him at Matt who watched you climb onto his brother, trying to push his obvious jealousy down for the time being to make sure you got everything you wanted out of this experience as he didn’t know if he’d be able to suffer through watching you be so obedient while perched on someone else’s lap ever again. Matt just nods at you, letting you know it’s okay before you look back at Chris who’s patiently waiting for you to strip for him, gaze never leaving your face even when you broke eye contact.

You reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it up slowly, teasingly, revealing the dark blue, lacy bra underneath, tits resting perfectly inside it, bouncing when you threw your shirt across the room. Chris stares for a moment, feeling his breath catch in his throat at the sight of you in front of him, on top of him. He’s thought about this for so long, fantasized about getting you exactly how he wants you. “Stand up,” he demands and you immediately slide off of his lap, standing in front of him. His eyes trail down to your lower half and you understand what he means, thumbs looping in the waistband of your shorts. But you don’t pull them down yet, not before turning around to face away from Chris, leaning over as you slide your shorts down your legs as slowly as you can, your matching blue lace panties on display for Matt and Chris to see. You knew you weren’t in control whatsoever, but you wanted to tease Chris as much as you could. You’ve wanted him for longer than you cared to admit, always stealing glances and listening extra close when he raved to his brothers about this girl he’s been seeing, desperate to feel his touch on you the same way you’ve imagined for the past few months. Chris breaks you from your thoughts after you kick your shorts away, grabbing your hips to pull you back onto his lap, your back resting against his chest now.

“God, you really are a fucking slut, aren’t you? You wore a matching set in the hopes you’d finally get your fucking wish. Tell me I’m wrong.” Chris uses both of his hands on your inner thighs to spread your legs roughly, eliciting a small whine from you.

“I didn’t,” you reply weakly, head falling back on Chris’s shoulder as his fingers trail closer and closer to your core. “I wore it hoping my boyfriend would finally fuck me.”

Chris hums in your ear, rubbing his fingertips over your clit on top of your panties, letting out a small breath as his eyes fluttered shut. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you like this. How bad I’ve wanted to see you fall apart for me.”

“Chris,” Matt warns from behind you, tone laced with jealousy.

“Sorry,” Chris laughs. “I can’t help it, your girlfriend’s irresistible. I just want to fuck her ‘til she’s crying.”

“Crying?” Matt questions, starting to get nervous.

Chris huffs and spins his head around, glaring at his brother. “Yes, Matt, until she’s fucking crying, because she’s a dirty little slut that wants that, isn’t that right, angel? Tell your precious, innocent little boyfriend that you want me to fuck you so hard you can’t even think about anything but my cock.”

You can’t bring yourself to turn and face Matt with Chris’s hands all over you, your skin heating up as his hands roam over you, breathing slow but heavy. It feels heavenly and filthy all at the same time, the way hands created in the same womb could feel so dirty compared to the ones that felt so soft and gentle against you. The way he gripped your thighs, your waist, your hips.

Chris stilled his hand atop your underwear and slid his hands over your thighs before he dropped them to the bed. “Get up,” he demands. You’re quick to obey, standing up and turning back to face him, cheeks already flushed from how worked up you were getting. He smiled at the sight, standing to his feet in front of you, staring down at your face. “You’re so pretty like this,” he whispers, hand coming up to grab your cheek. “Can’t wait to ruin you.”

He seals is sentiment with a kiss, pulling you closer until your lips press together. It was slow, sensual, deep and the feeling of him holding you in place while his lips moved with yours set you alight. His kiss was more controlling than Matt’s, the way his fingers gripped at your jaw and tilted your head up, whereas Matt’s touch was always delicate and loving. It doesn’t last long, though, him pulling away and stepping aside, hand sliding to the back of your neck to push you onto the bed where you fall onto your hands roughly, hair falling in your face, staring straight up at Matt who waited so patiently for you at the headboard. He stared down at you with a mixture of desire and resentment, the emotions giving his face a darker intensity than you’re used to.

You couldn’t help but crawl up the bed towards Matt slowly, keeping eye contact until you were on your hands and knees between his legs, his gaze never leaving you. You gently pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, smiling at your boyfriend. “You’re so good to me, you know that?” You start, voice low. “Can I show you just how much I appreciate you?”

You see Matt’s adam’s apple bob as he swallows, nodding slowly at your words, nervous to speak in fear of his voice betraying him. You smile wider and sit back on your knees, hands reaching forward into grab the waistband of Matt’s underwear, pulling them down just enough to let his dick spring out, a happy noise leaving your throat. “I missed you,” you whisper, eyes locked on his dick. Matt just chuckles and rolls his eyes.

“Prove it,” he tells you and your eyes widen, moving back up to meet his again. While his words weren’t necessarily dirty, the undertone was, and it was enough to send an excited shiver down your spine.

“Yes, sir,” you agree, leaning back over to take the head of his dick into your mouth, tongue swirling enthusiastically, eliciting a small groan from Matt’s mouth, his head falling back against the headboard. You had definitely missed sex with Matt, and as much as he tried to pretend he didn’t want it, he missed it just as much if not more.

You feel the bed dip from behind you and a pair of hands are running over your back seconds later, his fingers coming down and catching in the waistband of your panties, wasting no time to pull them down your legs. You lift one knee at a time to assist with taking them off, leaving your lower half naked as he pulls them over your ankles. Chris sits behind you and admires the sight for a few moments before he moves to lay on his back, legs hanging off the bed, his face directly under your pussy.

You feel your heart rate picking up at the feeling of his hands wrapping around your thighs from underneath you paired with the feeling of Matt’s hand tangled in your hair, tentatively pushing you lower on his cock which you happily accepted into your mouth.

“Come here,” Chris says, voice deeper than usual. His hands gripped your thighs from where he lay underneath you, pulling your hips lower until his lips reached your already soaked folds, a muffled whine bubbling through your nose at the feeling.

His hands held you down firmly, leaving no room between you and his mouth, your thighs spread wide on either side of his head. Chris let out a moan as his tongue came out to flatten against your entrance, dragging up towards your clit until he wraps his lips around the sensitive nub, sucking it into his mouth roughly.

Between the feeling of Matt’s cock buried in your throat and Chris’s mouth lapping up your soaked pussy, you could feel your mind already starting to spin. You’d imagined this more times than you could count, but the reality of it was so much better than anything your imagination could’ve mustered up.

You’re moaning around Matt, nose touching his stomach every time you slide your lips down, taking as much of him as you could in each stroke, feeling his chest heaving above you as he tugged on the hair he’d pulled into a ponytail, holding your hair to the side so he could see your face as you went down on him. “Feels so good, baby,” he moaned softly.

Chris moans in the agreement from his home underneath you, fingertips gripping harshly in your fleshy thighs, sure to leave small bruises with each touch. You didn’t mind; rather you were excited for the reminder of what will probably go down as your favorite sexual experience in history.

Your hips slowly grind into Chris’s face which he happily allows, your movement spreading a mixture of your arousal and his saliva from his nose to his chin, a bead of liquid even dripping from his chin down his throat. He suddenly moves his right hand from your thigh and pulls it between them to meet his mouth, sliding his fingers through your slit to get them wet before he slips two inside you, digging his pointer and pinky fingers into the bottoms of your ass cheeks from how harshly he’s curling them inside of you. You let out a loud, high-pitched moan at the feeling, your jaw falling open and your eyes falling shut, hands digging into the sheets on either side of Matt’s hips.

Matt’s cock slips from your mouth as your head falls onto his hip, thighs trembling as Chris’s fingers work in tandem with his tongue, a stark difference from the way Matt’s hand that was laced in your hair was stroking your cheek, keeping you grounded. Despite the last week, he was still the safest person to you, the only person that could bring you down to earth when you got too flustered and that didn’t change in this situation, his soft touch reminding you he was there giving you that extra push to relax into the moment, let your mind focus on the pleasure coursing through you.

“Chris,” you groan, eyebrows twisting up as his long fingers pull out and replace his lips on your clit, a small chuckle leaving his lips.

“Yeah, princess?” He replies.

You whimper at the name, his low tone catching you off guard. “Feels so good,” you tell him.

He’s quiet for a moment, smirking widely, before he slips his fingers back into you. “I know,” he replies, lips meeting your clit again.

“Fucking asshole,” Matt mutters, making you choke out a small laugh, hand coming up to stroke Matt again.

“He’s so cocky,” you mumble, eyes peeling open to look up at Matt, his own eyes meeting yours with a lazy smile.

Matt nods a couple times, trailing his gaze over your face, examining your fucked out expression. “You’re so pretty like this,” he tells you.

His words send another rush through you and you drop your head back to his hip as you stroke him lazily, hips starting to stutter from the way Chris was eating you out.

“Chris,” you moan again in warning. “I’m so fucking close, please don’t stop.”

Chris hums in response, keeping his same pace with his fingers and tongue, feeling you start to clench around him, knowing he was about to bring you to your first orgasm.

It didn’t take long after that for it to crash over you, thighs shaking as you moaned into Matt’s skin, his nails scratching over your scalp tenderly while Chris’s free hand gripped your thigh so hard you were sure to have fingerprints for days.

“Fuck!” You cry out, trying to pull your hips away when Chris doesn’t stop, taking no breaks after the shocks of your orgasm subside, overstimulating you more than you’d ever experienced, your hearing starting to get fuzzy as you felt another orgasm coiling inside of you.

Your jaw was slack, eyes clenched shut as you continued to shake above Chris, unable to make any sound as he coaxed another orgasm out of you back to back, a loud gasp leaving your lips when you came harder than you did the first time.

Chris finally pulls his mouth away from you, leaving a small kiss on your clit before he pulls his fingers out and swipes them on the back of your thighs, smearing your release on your skin before he sits up and turns to look at your limp body resting on Matt, smug expression on his face as he watches you try to catch your breath. He drags his eyes up and meets his brother’s, raising an eyebrow at him quickly before he comes up behind you and runs his hands over your hips.

“You’re not done, are you?” He snarks, swiping his thumbs over your skin.

You’re still motionless apart from the heaving in your chest, the English language slipping your mind completely. Chris just laughs, pushing his sweatpants and underwear past his hips, finally releasing his aching cock after all this time, wrapping a hand around it to relieve some pressure, a small groan leaving his lips.

“Can’t even speak, huh?” He taunts.

Matt glares up at him. “Give her a fucking minute,” he snaps and Chris stares down at him, eyes dark.

“She’s fine,” he retorts. “Aren’t you, baby? You want more?”

You’re still wordless as you nod your head, eyes finally opening to turn and look at Chris positioned behind you.

He smiles down at you, resting his cock between your ass cheeks, sliding it between them a few times before he looks up at his brother again.

“She on birth control?” He asks nonchalantly.

“What?” Matt spits in disbelief.

“You fucking heard me,” Chris spats back.

Matt raises his eyebrows at his younger brother. “Yeah, but don’t even think about-“

Chris has his answer, and he’s satisfied with it. “Perfect,” he interrupts Matt and pushes himself inside of you, a loud gasp slipping your lips as he bottoms out, his own head falling back on his shoulders as he moans.

“Holy fuck,” he groans, fingers digging into your hips as he tries to control himself from going too hard too fast on you.

“Oh my god,” you finally moan out, voice raspy.

“There’s my good girl,” Chris moans out, pulling his hand back to land a harsh slap to your ass, a red handprint immediately forming.

You push yourself back up onto your hands looking up at Matt who stared down at you worriedly, shooting him a lazy smile. “On your knees?” You ask sweetly and he obliges, getting on his knees in front of you.

You place your mouth back over Matt, fully getting fucked from both ends now and you felt satisfaction creeping up in all the dark parts of your mind as they took over all of your senses. Taste, touch, smell, hearing, vision all completely dominated by the two men inside you.

You’re moaning around Matt’s dick as Chris sets a rough pace, his thrusts sending your body forward and causing you to gag around Matt, tears filling your eyes as drool slipped from your lips uncontrollably, the sight causing Matt’s stomach to tense. He was enjoying more than he cared to admit, the way your body was forced onto him awakening a part of him he never knew was there. His hand gripped a bit harder in your hair, the action making him nervous at first before he heard you moaning loudly, sending vibrations through his skin.

Chris was relentless, slamming into you while muttering about how good you felt, pace never slowing. You’re barely able to hold yourself up on your hands as he’s pounding into you, the sound of your bodies colliding overpowering the music filling the room. He’s anything but gentle with you and Matt’s grip is getting tighter, both of them no doubt nearing their climax as they use your body for their own pleasure. Matt’s thrusting his hips in time with Chris’s now, both of them bottoming out inside you at the same time now, your body feeling like it’s being torn in two.

Chris lands another slap on your reddened skin, this one harsher than the last, following it up with his fingers digging into the skin he smacked, nails digging in roughly. Matt notices this and reaches out to smack his hand away. “Chill out,” he demands.

Chris glares up at his brother, expression darkening as they lock eyes above you. “She’s fucking fine,” he growls out.

“You’re too rough,” Matt retorts, hand running over your back as he glares back at his brother.

Chris has had enough of Matt’s policing, wondering why he’d even agree to this if he was just going to worry the whole time. He reaches down and wraps a hand around your throat from behind, pulling you off of Matt’s dick and onto your knees in front of him, still buried deep inside you. He’s got you both facing a surprised Matt, hand tightening around your neck. “Tell him you’re fine,” he demands, voice growling in your ear. “Tell him you love getting fucked like the greedy little slut you are. That you liked being used as a fucking cocksleeve and getting fucked dumb.”

You’re staring straight into Matt’s eyes, face contorted as you try to catch your breath, though your efforts prove useless, knowing he’s waiting for your answer, wanting to see if you really were as filthy as Chris made you seem.

Chris was still buried inside of you from behind, his hips stilled as he cradled you against his chest, his free hand inching down to rub over your clit slowly, making your eyes flutter shut.

“Look at him,” Chris orders, shaking you with the grip around your throat. “Tell him.”

You let out a low groan when Chris slowly pulls out and pushes back into you, the pairing of both hands on your body having you teetering on the edge like a rollercoaster about to take its first drop; teasing and taunting, but the second it tips over you’re struggling to catch your breath, completely at the mercy of the ride until it’s over, suspended in the weightlessness.

When you rip your eyes back open and focus them on Matt’s blue ones staring back at you, the coaster tips and you’re shaking again, letting out choked moans and cries, black tear tracks running down your flushed face. Chris fucks you through it eagerly, whispering soft praises in your ear until you’re coming down, grip loosening on your throat until he slides it down your chest. “God, you are something else,” he tells you, shoving your shoulders forward until you land on your hands again. “You’re useless if you’re not getting me off, though.”

He picks up his pace once more and you let out a small whimper at the oversensitivity, feeling Matt’s hand come up to rest on your jaw, thumb brushing over your bottom lip gently. It’s then that you remember you have to get him off, too, so you take him back into your mouth as far as you can, hearing him groan above you as he starts to gently thrust into your mouth again, his pace vastly different from his brothers who was fucking into you so roughly it made the headboard slam into the wall. You didn’t even know Matt’s bed moved that much.

You can hear Matt’s moans turning to whines as he fucks your mouth, encouraging you to pull out all the stops and bring him to his orgasm, tongue circling around his tip every time he pulled almost all the way out. It doesn’t take long for his hips to start to stutter, his hand pulling your hair harder as he shoots warm ropes of cum onto your tongue, letting out small, whimpered breaths as he watches you take everything he gives you. You swallow around him and pull off with a small pop, turning your eyes up to him and smiling meekly, an expression he returned, hand loosening in your hair.

Chris behind you, though, got louder as he got closer, mumbling profanities under his breath as he used you for his own release, hands sliding up to pull you back into him by your waist, his touch feeling nothing short of addicting.

“Fuck, princess, you’re so wet for me, gonna cum,” he grunts out and you have an idea, a last hoorah for the night.

You pull your hips away from him, to which he strongly protests, scurrying off the bed and onto the floor on your knees. He quickly understands what you’re implying and climbs off after you, standing above you with a smirk on his face. “You’re fucking filthy, you know that?” He reaches out with one hand to grip your jaw roughly, holding your face still as you open your mouth and stick your tongue out as far as it can go. His other hand quickly pumps his cock, stomach tensing as he finally cums, releasing all over your tongue and face, letting out a low moan at the sight of himself painting your pretty features that he couldn’t help but be obsessed with. He’d never be able to get this sight out of his head, locking it away in a deep part of his brain for safe keeping. He spurts out his last bits of cum, wiping the tip of his dick on your tongue before he sits back on the edge of the bed, letting out a loud breath.

Both boys stare down at you on your knees from where they’re perched on the bed, their gazes making you smile shyly. “What?” You ask quietly. “Do I have something on my face?”

Their jaws slung open and eyes hooded as they catch their breath, watching you take your thumb and swipe through some of Chris’s release on your cheek, smiling as you press your thumb into your mouth and suck it clean.

Chris tears his eyes away and turns to his brother behind him. “I’m definitely fucking your bitch again.”

Matt scowls at him. “No the fuck you’re not.”

Chris turns back to you, a smiling, fucked out mess on the floor, your eyes locking as he smirked back at you.

“Watch me.”

a/n: part two where he gets her alone? 👀

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbrat @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @chrisslollipop @mattsside @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @pvssychicken @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @afilmbykay @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @r0s3luvr @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @sturnburbs @aria003 @poppingmypussy4chris @victoryouactuallydidthis @seluky10 @annsx03 @ouchywow @pasteldreams

[syluriar]

please...help me - sylus x mc!reader. part 1

sypnosis: you call sylus to escape caleb.

a/n: i know i'm not the only one who thought this, a lot of us sylus girlies wanted to call out man and get him our of sjyhaven ASAP. so i wrote this little fic for that, and as you can tell by the title this is just part 1. ofc that means there'll be a part 2, maybe a part 3??? let's wait and see :)

warning: caleb being possessive (yandere??). mc (you) feeling uncomfortable and scared of caleb. hurt and some comfort by sylus (i luv you<3 ). this is rushed and like all my fics, have no grammer check.

word count: 990

RING RING

The vibration of the phone rang loudly through the bathroom, the one place Caleb grants you privacy. More than one you were thankful that he wasn’t here, his duty calling him out to do some work, work that you don’t question anymore, exactly how he likes it.

“I’ll be back soon, Pip-squeak,” He said with a tone meaning for warmth, but you feel the opposite, especially when he looks at you with a smile, the one you remember from your childhood, but it’s not the same anymore. 

“Don’t cause any ruckus, ok? We don’t need a repeat of last time.” 

You shudder at the memory, the way his hand had gripped your wrist and dragged you to your bedroom and placed you not so gently on your bed, scolding you not following his orders and locked you in. He would only allow you to come out for food and he would watch you the whole time you ate, sending shivers of fear down your spine the more it went on. It lasted for two weeks, after that you had a bit more freedom, but every night he would announce it was time for you to sleep and lock you in the bedroom, the next would be the same.

And you hated it. You hated how different he was, how much he had changed since you last saw him. Where was the Caleb that joked around with you? The one that always picked you up when you were feeling down? The one that would wipe away your tears and hold you close? 

Where’s one where you felt safe with? 

Gone. He was all gone, and he scared you. You couldn’t stay here any longer, to try and get the old Caleb back. You had enough of being ordered around and being scared. 

RING RING

Despite Caleb’s watchful eye you managed to snag a new phone as he confiscated yours, checking though all your data to make sure you couldn’t leave, Luckily you thought he would do that and got rid of anything that would get you into trouble; contacts, messages and pictures in your camera roll. So far he hasn’t commented on anything which you pat yourself on the back for.

Another thing your proud of is remembering a phone number, just one that you know would get you out of here.

RING RING

“Please pick up…” You whispered desperately. You have called the number twice now, and you hope people are right when people say third time's the charm, because you needed as much luck as possible right now.

RING RING - 

“I must say your persistence to get hold of me is both annoying and -”

“Sylus!” You couldn’t hold back the happiness as you heard his voice, it had been so long since you last heard it.

“...Is that you, sweetie?”

“It is.” You answer, the endearing name making you blush instantly. 

“Who’s phone are you calling on? Did you get a new phone and not tell me?”

“I’ll tell you that later but I need you to listen to me.” Time was of the essence, and you didn’t want to waste any of it. “I need you to track this phone and come help me.”

“Help you?” His tone held confusion. “What trouble have you gotten into now?”

“Don’t ask. I just need you to come to Skyhaven and get me out of here, fast.” You spoke hastily, you might have sounded desperate, but right now you don’t care. 

“You sound weird, kitten. Are you alright?”

Trust him to take notice. “Please, Sylus. I can’t get out of here and I’m….” You take a deep breath, tears threatening to spill. “I’m scared.”

His answer was instant. “I’m coming, sweetie. Don’t worry, I’ll get you out in no time.”

It’s like a weight is lifted off your shoulders, your heart is lighter and a smile graces your lips. “Thank you. Please hurry Sylus, I don’t like it here.”

“I can tell, sweetie. I’ll destroy everything if it means getting you out.”

“Maybe don’t go that far, there are innocent people here.”

“The ones that hold you against your will are nowhere near innocent.”

You grimace as you think about Caleb, a small piece of you feeling guilty for this, but you needed to get out of here, and if that meant hurting Caleb to escape…then so be it.

Looking at the time, you realise you’ve been left on your own for a while, and Calen would be due back soon. The last thing you wanted was for him to find you like this. “I have to go now, but I’ll see you later?”

“As soon as possible, sweetie. I’ve been making arrangements since you first said you needed my help.”

You end the call quickly and stash within your period products, you knew that Caleb never came in your bathroom, but just in case he changed his mind, at least you knew he wouldn’t search through them.

But now your body is full of nerves, you can’t believe you managed to get through to Sylus, even more so that he’s coming to get you. You just have to wait and keep playing Caleb’s game till he comes, which he assured you will be as soon as possible. In Sylus’ language, that could be within a few minutes to an hour. You hope it’s the first option, but you were determined to wait if that’s what it took.

Before leaving the bathroom you remind yourself to go back to your usual personality that Caleb likes, if he see’s any of your happiness he’ll question it, and you don’t know how long you can lie and fake it for. 

So you lower your excitement, lose your smile and take a few deep breaths to calm your beating heart. Once your assured that you’ve gone back to the obedience look, you open the bathroom door - 

“Have a nice phone call, Pip-squeak?”

[bookyeom]

whatever you say, baby - chs

pairing: vernon x reader word count: 1.1k warnings: none? the slightest bit suggestive at the end but like... it's nothing author's note: part two to this fic! i would recommend reading both for it to make sense :)

You haven’t seen Vernon in four days.

You haven’t seen him since he kissed you — and he’d kissed you a lot.

You’d barely managed to finish the movie without making out on his couch like teenagers. And when it was over, he hadn’t asked you to stay — but he’d kissed you again by his front door. 

You’d texted when you’d gotten home safe, as he’d requested. Then you’d woken up the next day to a ‘good morning :)’ text, which was swiftly followed by ‘today is so busy I might die’. And then the two of you had just… moved on. 

He sends a Shrek meme and then disappears for hours; you laugh react or send a meme in return. He sends you a picture of a “gnarly” squirrel he sees on campus; you send him a picture of a shitty doodle you drew during one of your lectures. Neither of you brings up what happened. You know he’s got a project due at the end of the week, so you don’t push when his texts are few and far between. Even though you so desperately want to. 

Is he thinking about it as much as you are? You can’t get the feeling of his lips out of your mind, and it’s driving you crazy. You want to kiss him again, want to run your fingers through his hair again, want to feel his hands on your waist again.

But you remain in limbo. You don’t ask for an explanation — he doesn’t offer one. And you don’t know how much longer you can ignore it. 

Vernonie [8:34pm]: INCOMING VIDEOCALL

Your eyes widen when your screen lights up. You quickly straighten from where you’d been lounging on your couch, tucking your hair behind your ears and hoping for the best. He knows what you look like, you remind yourself, but that doesn’t help the nerves when you finally accept the call. 

“Hey, stranger.”

He looks cute, and it makes you sick. 

“Hey,” you reply, and you can feel your cheeks heat up for no apparent reason. All he’s done is say hello, but you haven’t seen his face in four days, and the last time you saw him you were —

“What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you say, and then you can’t help but blurt out, “You’ve been busy.” It comes out accusatory, and you regret it immediately. 

Vernon looks surprised, and you watch as his eyebrows raise. “Yeah, I had that big project to finish, remember?” 

You nod, avoiding eye contact through the screen. “Right.”

He’s quiet again before he says teasingly, “If you missed me you can just say so.” 

You know it’s an attempt to lighten the mood, but it hits so deep all of a sudden that you think you might cry. Did he not miss you, too? 

You know it’s a cheap move, but you absolutely cannot look at him when he tells you that the kissing had meant nothing, that it was all a mistake. That you’re better off as friends. 

“Hey,” he says when you shift your phone so that your face is just out of sight. You can practically hear his pout. “Come back.”

“I’m just gonna go,” you say weakly, and you can see in your peripheral vision the way Vernon sits up straight. 

“Hey, no. Wait. Please come back? Let me say something.”

You bite your lip as the tears well up. It takes you a minute, but you manage to take a breath and set your phone back upright to look at him. 

“Y/N,” he says gently, and you can see his soft smile through the screen. “Bro.”

You can’t help but smile a bit at that, and he takes that as a sign to continue. 

“Did you think I was avoiding you?”

You shrug. 

“You think I kissed you and then avoided you on purpose?”

Your heart stutters over itself a bit as he says the words out loud. When he puts it like that, you suppose it sounds a bit silly. Because it’s Vernon, and he would never be so cruel. You shrug again, but you still can’t find it in you to speak. 

“Kissing you is probably all I've thought about for the better part of the last few months,” he continues, and your eyes widen. “I wasn't deliberately avoiding you, I just... I was busy, that part’s true, but it seemed like a good time to give you some space anyway because I know you get into your head sometimes, so I thought that would give you some time to process…” He trails off, a hand running through his hair before he adds, quieter, “You know. In case you…” 

“In case I what?” It’s the first time you’ve spoken in a few minutes, and you can practically see the way Vernon’s shoulders relax at the sound of your voice again. 

He pauses, and then he says softly, “In case you regret it.”

Your eyes widen. “You think I regret it?”

“Do you?”

You shake your head, a bit dizzy as you return, “Do you?”

Vernon’s lip curls up at the side. “No, Y/N. I don’t.”

You’re processing, and he’s quiet as he lets you. He doesn’t regret it. He wanted to kiss you. He… 

It’s silent for another moment and then you say, voice small, “But you didn’t ask me to stay.” 

“Baby,” he says, and your eyes widen. “That’s definitely not because I didn’t want you to. Like I said, I was giving you space.”

“Baby?”

Vernon freezes. “Shit, sorry. Fuck—“

“It’s okay,” you interrupt, and he relaxes a little. 

“Yeah?” He breathes, and you nod. A smile spreads across your lips, warmth spreading through you as it really, truly dawns on you — Vernon likes you back. 

“Yeah,” you affirm. “I think I much prefer that to bro.”

“Yeah?” He says again, and you smile. You’re just realizing now that he seems nervous too, and it makes you feel all sorts of warm and fuzzy inside.

“Mhm.”

You stare at one another through the screen. Vernon’s grin spreads the longer you do, and even though you know your cheeks are flushed, you don’t stop the staring contest. He narrows his eyes, and you let out a giggle. 

“So…”

“So,” he repeats, and you watch as he adjusts to lie down on his couch. “I finished my project.”

That was not where you thought this conversation was headed. “Oh yeah? Good job, bro.” 

Vernon raises his eyebrows at the name, and you flush again. 

“It’s habit,” you whine, and he puts on an exaggerated frown. 

“That’s fine,” he sighs dramatically, “I was going to say that I can hang out with you now that my project is done, but I can see I’m the only romantic one here, bro.”

You gasp. “I can be romantic!”

Vernon grins, and you immediately know you’ve taken his bait as he teases, “Really?”

“I can!” You insist, and he just smiles even wider. 

“Want me to come over so you can show me just how romantic you can be, baby?”

Read part three here!

TAGLIST: @tae-bebe @wheeboo @waldau @iluvseokmin @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @seohomrwolf @pan-de-seungcheol @minisugakoobies @wqnwoos @gyuminusone @christinewithluv @darkypooo @lvlystars @bewoyewo

[luveline]

i'm missing coworker!james so much... is he doing okay?

James is poorly :( fem

James is a cruel kind of ill. Desperate to escape the dreaded ‘man flu’, he tries hard to portray the common cold. Doesn’t whine, groan or moan, simply suffers the near constant sneezing and his twinging neck without comment. 

Luckily, he has two —two! because you like him enough to be concerned! barely!— nice deskmates who ply him with tea and worry alike. 

“Did you take that antihistamine?” Remus asks. 

“I did, yeah. You watched me take it an hour ago and try as I might, I haven’t regurgitated it yet.” 

“Don’t be disgusting, he’s just worried,” you say. 

A month ago, you might’ve said it with deep, genuine ire. James annoys you and his choice of imagery is hardly workplace appropriate, but for some reason you’re good to him lately. You’re softening, and why shouldn’t you be? James is a boy worth softening for. 

He sneezes hard into a tissue in his palm and knocks the desk, sending his small crowd of figurines skittering, their light green bodies scuffed with scratches. They fall over each day. You like rearranging them. 

You also like feeding James biscuits, and pretending you don’t like him. Or maybe pretending you do. It’s hard to tell what’s real. 

“Jesus,” he says, forgetting to be demure as he drops his forehead against his closed fist. “I can’t take it much longer.” 

“You need to calm down, is all. Every time you sneeze you trigger the inflammation in your nose, which makes you more likely to sneeze again,” Remus says. He doesn’t sound particularly pitying, but he does then stand to grab James’ mug as he heads to the kitchen. 

In an office made up of mostly Brits, it’s extremely common for everyone to make one another a tea or coffee when they get one for themselves, but it’s a sweet gesture for Remus to keep James topped up nonetheless. It also provides for moments like this: you and him alone. Not awkward anymore. 

“Do you have painkillers?” he asks.

You open the drawer of your desk and offer him your pouch. “Here.” 

Inside are many things. A box of lil-lets, plasters in sterile wrappings, throat soothers, ibuprofen, a treasure trove of cures for little ailments. 

“Just, help yourself to anything you want.” 

“You’re an angel.” James unveils a shiny purple chocolate bar. “I can have Freddie?”

“Freddo,” you correct. “Come on, James, it’s on the packet.” 

He doesn’t truly want it. He doubts he could taste it, and he drops it back in. 

“Oh, no, you can have it!” you say, softer. “I’m just being pedantic.” 

“Thanks, but I don’t think I can do chocolate right now.” 

“Right, um… well, I have a sandwich?” 

“What kind of sandwich?” he asks. 

“One of those impossible BLT’s. But I can get you a proper sandwich, James. They have those sesame seed rolls in the vending machine.” 

James doesn’t understand why you’re being so nice to him. “I must look awful,” he murmurs, letting his aching, pulsing head drop onto the desk. He sniffs uselessly. Fuck, he hates work. Why can’t he go home?

“You never look awful,” you say. 

James turns his face to see you’ve lowered your own, resting your cheek in your hand, your knuckles grazing the table. 

“You’re being too nice to me. I’m dying.” 

“You’re the one who’s mean to me, James. I’m your unwilling victim.”

“As opposed to being my willing victim.” James hates being ill, his lips are dry and his throat feels sharp and he’s changed his mind, he does want the Freddo. “Please be nice to me again.” 

“You know what’s good for this? Nasal spray. That’ll fix you.” 

“You could fix me,” James says. You don’t answer. He presses his nose to the table. “My days are always good ones when you can't be bothered to pretend you don’t like me.” 

“Who says I’m pretending?” 

James whines. “That’s worse.” 

You tease a bit of his hair behind his ear. James is content to let you, content to never move again, balmed by the softness of your touch as you draw along the outline of his ear to his jaw. “Don’t press your glasses into your nose, you’ll start sneezing again,” you whisper. 

James refuses to move. “Stroke my hair,” he demands.

“No way.”

“You’re no fun.”

“But I’m having a much better day than you are.” 

He sulks. This is exactly why James hides your stuff and leaves you off of email chains you should probably be in. You’re horrible, awful, evil, with no sympathy for him and no friendliness, either. James was far better off when he was solely annoyed at you, and not whatever useless state of being this is where his mood depends on your willingness to make friends. If James could, he would—

“Are you okay?” you say, your voice as soft as your fingertip where it traces slowly through his curly hair. “Maybe you should go home and rest. I’m worried about you…” 

James might fall in love with you if you keep whispering sweet stuff like that. You hesitate at the nape of his neck before dragging your hand up through a tuft of curls. 

“If you don’t get better soon, your voice will go and I’ll have to talk to Lang and Co. on the phone again. You know I hate their finance team leader,” you finish. 

You sound so pretty that James almost misses your slight. Then decides he’ll allow it as long as you keep stroking his hair.  —

coworker james au

[skywalkerslvt]

Need a desperate sub Leon in public setting🙏🏻But please dont make us mean,I cant be mean to my baby but "No baby we're in public!"

a/n: tysm for the request! here's a very short fic i've been working on (it's a little bit rushed and not proofread so i might fix it up later). hope u like it!! <3

CW: 18+ smut, sub leon, teasing, semi public sex, pet names (reader calls leon baby and good boy), handjobs, 1.1k words

Leon Kennedy was always composed, always in control. At least, that's what everyone thought. But right now, at one of his coworker's dinner parties, he was anything but.

The evening had started off normally enough. You and Leon had arrived at the elegant townhouse, greeting his colleagues and their partners with polite smiles. The house was buzzing with conversation and laughter, the sound of clinking glasses and soft music creating a lively atmosphere.

You were both seated at a long dining table, surrounded by the chatter of his coworkers. But beneath the table, hidden from everyone else, your hand was slowly driving Leon to the brink of madness.

It had begun with a casual touch on his knee, a simple gesture that wouldn't raise any suspicion. But then your hand began to wander, tracing patterns on his thigh, inching closer and closer to the bulge straining against his slacks.

Leon tried to focus on the conversation, tried to keep his responses coherent, but it was getting harder with every passing second. He shifted in his seat, his breathing becoming shallow as he felt your fingers brush against him.

"Are you okay, Leon?" you asked innocently, your eyes twinkling with mischief as you pretended to be concerned.

He swallowed hard, nodding. "J-just a little distracted."

You bit back a smile, knowing full well what you were doing to him. Your fingers pressed a bit harder, rubbing him through the fabric, and Leon had to bite his lip to keep from making any noise.

"Are you sure?" you asked, leaning forward slightly, giving him a perfect view of your cleavage. "You seem really tense."

Leon managed a weak smile. "Y-yeah, just... trying to keep it together."

You chuckled softly, your fingers giving him a teasing squeeze before leaving his aching cock, returning to tracing teasing circles up and down his thigh.

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to compose himself, but it was no use.

He was too far gone, too desperate for your touch. His hand reached under the table, gripping your wrist in a silent plea for mercy. His hand guided yours up higher, where his cock was straining painfully against his pants. “Please,” he whined quietly, “I need it.”

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered back, "No, baby, we're in public. You can be a good boy and wait for me, can't you?"

Leon shuddered, his grip tightening. "I don't know if I can."

"You will" you said confidently, giving him one last squeeze before finally pulling your hand away. "Because you know I'll make it worth your while."

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The promise of relief, of finally being able to let go, gave him the strength to endure the rest of the meal.

But it wasn't easy. Every look, every casual touch, was a reminder of what was waiting for him, just out of reach.

By the time the dinner was over and you made your way to a quiet corner of the house, Leon was practically trembling with need. He followed you silently, his mind focused on only one thing: getting to a place where he could finally let go, where he could give in to the overwhelming desire that had been building up inside him.

As soon as you were alone, his restraint crumbled. He pulled you close, his lips crashing against yours in a desperate kiss, his hands roaming your body with a hunger that had been held back for far too long.

You smiled against his lips, knowing that you had him exactly where you wanted him. "Good boy," you whispered, your words sending a shiver down his spine, and Leon's eyes darkened with desire, his breath hitching as he prepared to show you just how much he needed you.

His eyes met yours, filled with a desperate need that made your heart race.

"Please," he whispered, his voice shaky. "Please, I need you."

You leaned into his neck, biting and sucking marks at his pulse point as your hand slid down his stomach, teasingly close to where he ached the most. You could feel his heart pounding, his breath quickening in anticipation as he let out a soft whimper.

You pressed a desperate kiss against his mouth before reminding him to keep quiet.

Leon whimpered, but he nodded again, his body trembling with the effort to remain still. You rewarded him with a soft kiss, your lips barely brushing his as your hand finally reached the waistband of his pants.

Your hand slipped inside his pants to wrap around his throbbing cock. His eyes rolled back in his head as he bit down on his lip to keep from crying out. "Just focus on me, Leon. I'll take care of you."

You stroked him slowly, your thumb brushing over the head of his cock, smearing the pre-cum that had gathered there. Leon's hips bucked involuntarily, a strangled moan escaping his lips before he could stop it. You tightened your grip slightly, reminding him to stay quiet.

"Shh," you soothed, kissing him deeply to muffle any further sounds. He kissed you back with a desperation that only fueled your desire, his hands gripping your hips as if to ground himself.

Your pace quickened, your hand moving faster over his length as his breathing became more erratic. You could feel him getting close, his body tensing as he struggled to hold back.

"That's it," you whispered against his lips. "Let go for me, Leon. Be a good boy and cum."

With a muffled cry, Leon obeyed, his body shaking as he came hard into your hand. You continued to stroke him through his orgasm, your other hand gently caressing his face as tears of relief and pleasure spilled from his eyes.

"Good boy," you murmured, kissing away his tears. "You did so well."

Leon slumped against you, his breathing slowly returning to normal as he basked in the afterglow. You held him close, your heart swelling with affection for the man in your arms.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice hoarse but filled with gratitude. "I love you."

"I love you too, Leon," you replied, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

"Now, let's get back to the party before anyone notices we're gone."

He nodded, reluctantly pulling away to adjust his clothes. You did the same, both of you sharing a secret smile as you stepped out of the closet, ready to face Leon's coworkers once more.

[inlovewithl3vi]

Could you write MC with a daddy kink ? With lucifer (and diavolo If you feel like it but separated)

Love you

Ngl to you I got so excited about this when I saw it I shut down and forgot to write.

I tried something a little different with the formatting this time, not sure if I like it though. I’m also not too happy with how Lucifer’s turned out but I honestly don’t write about him often, I hope you still like it tho 😭 honestly this whole little fix kinda sucks… I still hope you like it (though I might write this prompt again in the future)

I’m also not the best at writing NSFW. It’s probably because I’m an autistic virgin, but eh whatever. I also cut if off kinda at that part since I’m writing for a gender neutral Mc, and when writing NSFW I find it easier when you know what genitals both people have (idk if that’s just a me thing… I fear it might be)

P.s I did not proofread this, I’m sorry in advance

(Bonus Note: I also love you!) (is that weird? Idk I love people who send asks)

-Lucifer-

✧ With him you never really brought it up before.

✧ I mean you’ve thought about it and the fact that you wanted to call him daddy, but you just didn’t have the time. And whenever you did have time it wasn’t the right moment.

✧ Until your spread out on his bed with him over you keeping you in place. He had been teasing you for what felt like hours. you can feel tears welling in your eyes, your body feels like it’s on fire, your whining and helplessly trying to move beneath him, and yet he still won’t touch where you want him to.

“Beg” he has a smug look on his face as he stares down at you. “Please…” it’s almost hard to speak, your body desperate for any sort of simulation. “You can do better than that” he moves his hand and places it on your cheek, gently caressing your face. “Please please please! I need it Lucifer-“your cut off by your own sob. He slowly starts to move, but you want- no, you need more. “Please- daddy I need more. I’ll be good for you daddy I swear!” He pauses for a brief second. He’s never had anyone call him that. But he immediately knows he likes hearing the way you sound when calling out to him in such a way. His lips attach to your neck, leaving dark bruises that your sure others will see tomorrow. His hands are roaming around your body before he reaches down and grabs his cock, pumping it a few times before finally sliding inside of you, making you loudly moan out from pleasure.

✧ The next morning he teases you slightly about the name.

✧ Though he isn’t fooling you, he loves every minute of it.

✧ Since then, whenever you two are being any kind of intimate he wants you to call him daddy.

Bonus: if you come up behind him while he’s working in his office and wrap your arms around him before whispering “daddy” in his ear he will immediately abandon his work for you.

-Diavolo-

✧ You actually ended up taking about it with him earlier in the relationship. Probably after you’ve had sex together for the first two or three times.

✧ Mostly because he asked first.

“Oh MC, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Since our relationship has gotten more serious, do you have any preferences for when we sleep together?”

✧ He’s always been a little blunt when asking about things, but that caught you off guard.

“Uhm… no nothing that I can think of right now”

✧ He could totally see right through you, I mean he literally has powers to see if you’re lying.

“That’s a lie, you can tell me anything you know.”

✧ He grew a little more concerned when you lied. He wanted you to know that he really does love you, and that you could tell him whatever it is.

✧ After a slight bit of convincing (he just made a sad face and you gave in) you end up telling him.

“Uhm… I kinda wanna call you daddy” your face immediately flushed after admitting it as you turned away from him. He chuckled slightly and placed his hand on your cheek to make you look at him. “That’s it huh” his normal warm smile overtook his features as he looked down at your flushed face. “You just wanted daddy to take care of you”

He ended up picking you up and carrying you to his room before sitting on his bed and placing you in his lap. He started undressing you, eventually getting everything off leaving you naked in his lap. “Daddy please” you mumbled as you started to grind against his thigh. “Hmm? Do you want daddy to take care of you?” You nodded yes as you felt his large hands wrap around your hips. “Then just relax and be good for me ok?”

✧ From that point of it was more of a normal thing for you to call him daddy in bed.

✧ He quite enjoys it too. He loves to show just how much he loves you and loves to take care of you, and the name just makes him feel good.

✧(Bonus: on rare occasions he’ll use it to rile you up while at a party or even whenever he knows you can’t immediately go with him. He’ll go up to you and whisper how your “being so good for daddy”

[valentine-cafe]

˖⁺. ﹙ antihero mercenary bf x top male reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . i can't- f-fuck- please! !! 🍒 :  antihero ˖ mercenary ˖ enigma character character﹙ verse 781 alessio. ﹚

a continuation ( and a redemption of the first one ) of the cockwarming ask by heart anon cw: cockwarming, brat taming, riding ( reader penetrating alessio )

ps: oh heart anon, I hope you can forgive me for messing up the last one and enjoys this one even more :,)) - Howl

“Sit still. Alessio.”

A whine follows the command. Your boyfriend’s head falls back onto your shoulder, and breathes in deep before letting a groan rumble out of his throat. One you can only roll your eyes at, while you keep reading.

And hour.

Punished to sit on your cock for an hour, not allowed to do anything but keep it warm and snug inside of his pretty little ass.

You’ve joked enough about how his ass feels as though it hasn’t taken you more than a few days in a row now. He’s clenching away at you like he’s depending on it

“Did you see what I wrote last week? On biological warfare and how it affects. . .” Oh and you ramble on as he zones out. The slight pulse and twitch of your cock sends him into dizzy episodes that feel like electricity sparking down his spine and up.

Breath so heavy he sounds like a dog panting slowly. You assume drool is trickling down his chin without him even knowing by now. You feel the squeeze of his tight ass around you. It is tempting. You could reach down to his cock and begin pumping away, perhaps? Oh but it would ruin the fun.

Is it really so painful? To sit still while you do your little rambles and research for him? He agreed to sit here with you, so why is he not enjoying it some more? Having you inside of him should be enough to make him sit and spill a bit.

Oh, but you might as well give the poor man on top of you a little grind. For good measures, no?

So you do, hips grinding upwards, your balls smacking against his skin after an experimental thrust. It felt too good not to. . . Damn this man and his tight ass. You have to wait with spreading him across the desk until later.

Patience is virtue and the key to torture him a little longer after being a brat since yesterday. Teasing you about your newest project.

He wants to tease? Then let him have some of it back.

His hips move downwards immediately to meet the grind. Before they buck desperately to see if you will chase after him and pull a few more whines from him.

Large, olive skinned hands clench around the seat of the chair. A groan escaping his lips when you do indeed follow. But grab onto his hips to smack him back down on you and keep him still.

“Fuck,” the hiss is music to your ears. Your eyes so full of lust that you do not display to him. However you are sure he can hear it just clear in the husky chuckle that manages past your lips.

“I told you to listen to me when I spoke. Now. Sit still.”

He lets out a cry of dismay, it is so unfair. You’re fucking with the man who’s libido rages on like a wildfire and you tell him to sit still and do nothing. This sort of punishment, it is too hard on him. Oh woes and tragedy!

“If you want it, stop crying, and beg.” What malicious words to tell him. But what else does he do, other than comply.

“Please, Please I beg of you to just start fucking me. I can’t takethisanymore— a-anhgh cariñooooooo!” His eyes roll back at the moment bliss hits him. You fuck up into him, hitting all of the spots that he has been spilling tears and drool for you to pound.

You, on the other hand, get to put your little work frustrations out of him. He minds not, as long as he gets to feel the hard and fast pace of your cock moving up against his gummy walls he is happy. And in turn he squeezes the life out of you.

“Ffffffffuuuuuuckkk. such a tight ass, that’s it. c’mon Arias. Take it.”

The pace itself sends you into a delirious state. Having felt his warmth around you so long made you realise just how good it feels to be moving around once more. Your hand gripping onto his hips to move him forwards to the desk. Leaving him bent over to take it all. Cock dripping with cum that soon spurts it instead as your hand comes to aid it’s weeping tip.

[pekoehoneyncream]

Ghoaptober # 3

Prompt: Hurt

Words: 5100~

TW: Distressing/Negative Sexual Experiences, Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Restraints, Intersex Omegas (NOT sfw)

This version of Ghoaptober was created by @spadesandshovels

Please note that all the Distressing/Negative Sexual Experiences are not between Ghost and Soap. I think this one is right on the line for dub-con, so proceed with caution if that's something that might trigger you. If this is missing any trigger warning please do let me know!

I've always had an itch to subvert the 'omega desperately needs to get fucked during their heat' trope, so I honestly shouldn't be so surprised that this one got away from me like it did.

Enjoy!

As an omega, Soap had started preparing for his heat a good month in advance, he’d gathered up his favourite nesting blankets and made sure they were freshly laundered, he’d scouted a good Heat-Hotel that was nearby and booked a room, he’d even secured a partner. Some of the other omegas on base had been touting this new matcher app, that they’d reportedly had massive success with, so Soap had decided to give it a whirl and signed up. What’s the worst that could happen, he was no doubt better trained than any of the civvies he’d be meeting up with. 

He’d been talking to an alpha named Dominic Wilckes and when the subject of his heat had come up, Dominic had asked if Soap was looking for a partner. With no reason to say no, Soap had said yes. He’s spent heats with and without partners before, and found accompanied heats to be much more manageable. 

Soap was in his room at the Heat-Hotel now, securing a layer of waterproof Heat-Sheets over his carefully arranged nest. When his heat was spiking he didn’t care, but when he was in a lull or was coming down, he hated having his nest being a messy, sticky, uncomfortable, ruined heap of blankets. So he’d learned how to weave a sturdy nest and had invested in specialty sheets that would keep it clean. 

His phone buzzed rapidly on the table, it was Dominic.

“here”

“safe n sOund solotions?”

“in the lobby”

“whr r u”

Dominic was a nice guy, but Soap could admit that the way he texted was a bit annoying. Having his messages open to send Dominic the room number reminded him that he hadn’t texted Ghost yet. He pulled up his location and sent it to his Lieutenant along with a quick text,

“At Safe & Sound Solutions, Room 348, Booked for three days, Should be back Tuesday.”

His message showed as being read within the minute and while he was waiting to see if Ghost would reply another message came in from Dominic,

“come down”

Soap reread the message, why would he need to go down to the lobby? Maybe there was an issue Dominic needed help with? Confused, but willing to help, Soap texted back a quick ‘On my way.’ and headed out, his riled instincts insisting he double and triple check that he’d locked the door to his room. That he made sure his nest was safe from intruders.

In the lobby, Soap found Dominic leaning up against the wall next to the lifts with a bag at his feet. Walking over, he tried to spot where the problem was. 

“Dominic? Whit’s wrong?” Soap questioned,

“Hey, John. Some of the people were giving me weird looks. I needed you to come to show them I’m not some creep hanging around for nothing.” Dominic stood from his lean and stepped into Soap’s space, bringing his arm up to rub a wrist over Soap’s nape. Scenting him. Soap let him, tilting his shoulders so the other man wouldn’t accidentally brush his mating glands, they got heinously sensitive when he was heating.  

“Oh, alrigh’,” Soap privately thought that Dominic was overthinking it, if anyone was looking at him weird it was for loitering around in the lobby, but not actually sitting in any of the many chairs scattered throughout. The lobby of every Heat-Hotel that Soap had ever visited always looked like Moses had called a plague of plush chintzy furniture down upon them. 

Soap led Dominic back into the lift, pressing the button for his floor. A chime from his phone brought his attention to the fact that Ghost had replied, he’d reacted to Soap’s message with a thumbs up and had sent back,

“Rog.” 

Ghost had a habit of reading his notifications as soon as he could, but often didn’t have the time to actually reply until later. 

“Who’s that?” Dominic asked, peeking over Soap’s arm to get a look at the screen. 

Soap locked his phone, the smile that had pulled up the corners of his mouth falling away. 

“Mah L.T. He likes tae know every’hings guid.” Soap replies, watching the numbers of the lift ding over to his floor and stepping out as the doors parted.

“Your L.T? What’s that?” Dominic crowded up against his back as he tried to finagle the keycard into scanning properly and unlocking the door. 

“Mah Lieutenant.” Soap pulls the door flush closed, grips the handle to make sure it’s sitting straight, then tries sliding the keycard through at a snail's pace. The light flashes green and he whips the door open before it can change its mind, sending a silent thanks out to Price for teaching him how to sweet-talk card readers. 

“Oh yeah. You're in some kinda military army thing right?” Dominic’s realization carried a strange tone of praise. 

“Yeah, U.K.S.F,” Soap clocks Dominics blank gaze and spells it out for him before he can ask, “United Kingdom Special Forces,”

A light comes on behind Dominic’s eyes, but a skeptical look crinkles his nose. “But can’t only U.K citizens join?” 

It's Soap’s turn to stare blankly, “Aye?” the answer carries a subtext of ‘you dumbass’ that Soap couldn’t have stopped if there were hostages at stake.

Soap watches Dominic’s confused look intensify. Good, they could be confused together.

“But aren’t you Irish?” 

“Nae!” Soap refutes, that idea in need of immediate culling, “Ah’m no' Irish. Ah’m a fuckin’ Scot!”

“Oh, I didn’t know Scottish people could join the British army?” 

Soap searches Dominic's face for any sign that he’s joking, Dominic looks earnestly back at him. 

Jesus Christ.

He’s not joking. 

“Scotland’s a par’ ae the U.K,” Soap says hesitantly, leadingly, begging Dominic to spend one brain cell on remembering his First Year geography lessons.

“Oh, Alright.” Dominic shrugs in a ‘whatever you say’ manner, that makes Soap think he’s doing it more to drop the conversation than he actually believes what he’s been told, “Are you already set up? When does your heat kick in?”

Dominic glances around the room, looking over Soap’s preparations, dropping his bag off his shoulder onto the desk pressed against the wall. Why a Heat-Hotel thought its room's occupants might need a desk, was the true mystery of the night. 

Soap shakes himself free of the disbelief clogging his brain, and checked his watch, “Wi’hin the ‘our, mebbe twen’y minutes?” 

Dominic shoots him an odd look again, clearly thinking something over.

“Whit? Whit’s wrong?” Soap glances around himself, but nothing looks wrong to him.

“Your accent’s cute, John, but it’s a bit hard to understand you. You know?” Dominic's tone is assured, almost complimentary, “It’s gonna be hard to know what you want if I can’t understand you.” He coaxes, like a parent reasoning with their toddler to not bite electrical cables. Like it’s what was best for everyone.

Baffled, Soap stares at him. He’s never gotten flak about his accent from his previous partners, everyone else had seemed to enjoy it. At least, Soap had thought they’d enjoyed it. 

“Aye,” Soap swallows hard, his stomach roiling “Eh- Uh- Yes. I can- Um- I’ll try tae- to speak,” Flustered, Soap stutters through his answer as he tries to flatten his accent, “I’ll try to speak more clearly.”

“That’s all I’m asking.” Dominic nods at him, “Now,” he slaps at his own thighs, “Where are we setting up? On the bed?” He walks over to the bed, toting his bag, and starts rummaging through the nightstands, “They don’t have anything here, it's a good thing I brought my own stuff.” 

Soap eyes him as he approaches the nest, wincing as his tossed bag knocks free a carefully stacked pillow. Dominic clatters around a bit more, checking the minifridge and all the drawers in the desk. 

“Where’s your stuff?” He turns back to Soap.

Soap points wordlessly at the gutted dufflebag he’d carried his blankets over in. 

“Oh, you don’t use toys? A good omega? Like whining on your fingers instead?” Dominic’s voice dripped with sudden lascivious intent, he dropped his head to eye Soap through his lashes, licking his lips and petting his hands over his bag, “That’s okay, baby. Alpha will take care of you. I’ll give you everything you need.”

Soap inhaled shakily. He must not laugh. If he laughed he’d be out of a heat partner and his instincts would insist on him moving the nest. If he moved rooms he’d have to update Ghost. Ghost would worry about why he moved rooms and insist on checking on him. If his L.T came within one city block of him when he was on his heat Soap was dragging that alpha into his nest and not letting him leave. Soap did not want his L.T to write him up for fraternization. 

He must not laugh. 

“Oh yeah?” Soap eked out. Dominic must take the breathiness of his voice to be anticipation as his look only grew more seductive. 

“Yeah, baby. Come get comfy in your nest and Alpha will show you the presents he brought.” Dominic pats a hand on the nest, then gives it a surprised glance, “These are the blankets you want? They’re not very soft.”

Soap explains about how he doesn’t like his nest getting dirty as he crawls up onto the bed, petting a proprietary hand over his nest. It’s not like the blankets were scratchy terrycloth or anything, they were Heat-Sheets, they were made specifically for heats, they wouldn’t sell if they weren’t comfortable. 

“Here,” Dominic reached forward and Soap frantically knocks the hand away before it could tear into his nest. The judging look that Dominic shot him was completely uncalled for. What kind of psycho fucks with an omega’s nest. 

“What?” Dominic furrows his eyebrows at the omega, “I was just gonna show you a better way to do it. You could put a soft sheet on top, so you’re not laying on something so rough. I know omegas are super sensitive about that kinda stuff.”

“Nae- No. No, it’s fine like this. Thank you, Dominic.” Soap assures, sliding over to sit on the bed directly in front of Dominic, firmly between his nest and the alpha. 

After eyeing him for a moment longer, Dominic shugs and turns back to his bag, muttering something about omegas being so picky under his breath. 

“I got you that water you like,” he says, pulling three one-litre bottles of Volvic mineral water out of his bag and setting them on the nightstand. Soap felt warmed and a touch shocked, he’d only mentioned that he likes Volvic best in passing. The warm feeling vanished when the next item Dominic pulled from his bag of tricks was a tall omegaen guard-collar.

“I know it’s usually that alphas wear muzzles for heats and omegas wear collars for ruts, but the skin on my face is super sensitive and I’ll get a rash if I wear a muzzle,” Dominic explained, handing over the collar when Soap hesitantly reached for it. 

It was made of good thick leather, fastening with two buckles in the back instead of a cheap zipper. The things that were throwing Soap off were that it was much taller than the typical guard-collar, how it flared out at the bottom to cover over his trapeziuses, and the four D-rings spaced around its middle. It honestly looked more like a posture-collar. 

“I was looking into the failure rate of guard-collars and this one has amazing reviews and no accidental bites,” Dominic supplies, tapping at the collar in Soap's hands, “Do you need help putting it on?”

Soap absently nods, not really processing what’s being said to him, and finds the contraption out of his hands and strapped around his neck within two heartbeats. Hands coming up to scrabble at the new pressure squishing his mating glands Soap gives a startled yelp and Dominic quickly grabs his hands. Shushing and cooing at him, giving his hands a firm squeeze when he tries to pull away. 

“It’s alright, omega. You’re doing so well.” Tuning out Dominic's crooning, Soap focused on calming his breathing.

In for four, hold for four, out for four. In for four, hold for four, out for four.

With his breath under control, Soap can admit that the collar isn’t as restrictive as he’d feared, he can breathe fine, and turn his head. Looking down or up presses a bit, but it’s not terrible.

Focusing on himself for a moment also revealed to Soap that he’d been so busy judging Dominic that he’d completely missed his body cresting through pre-heat. Taking another deep breath Soap warns the alpha that he’ll be going into full heat in a minute or two and watches the shocked look take over Dominic's face. It’s not surprising to Soap that Dominic hadn’t noticed, Soap’s scent has never been particularly loud and he’s not throwing himself at the alpha like the needy heat-drunk omegas do in films. 

The next few minutes are admittedly blurry to Soap as his body plunges into full heat, when he comes back to himself he’s face down with his ass up in the air and Dominic is playing between his thighs. By the wetness dripping down his legs Soap guesses that he’s already cum once, that or Dominic drools more than Eas A’  Chual Aluinn. 

Giving a pitching whine, Soap tries to get up onto his elbows and finds that the guard-collar wasn't Dominic’s only gift for him. There are soft leather cuffs secured around his wrists, latched closed with simple carabiners and attached to one of the D-rings of his collar with a short chain. Stopping him from lifting his head more than about twenty centimetres away from his hands and, consequently, the bed. 

“Do- Dominic?” He pants through his confusion and feels the man pull his tongue and what felt like three fingers out of his hole. 

“Back with me, omega? You’re doing so well. Getting so wet for me. Cumming so pretty.” Dominic rumbles, reverent fingers coming back to pet over Soap’s twitching hole. 

Soap pushes back into the touch, feeling achingly empty, his lower belly cramping with the need to be filled. 

“Alpha, please,” he whines “Need your knot, please, please, knot me, ple-”

“Hush.” Dominic commands and the omega’s jaw snaps shut, “I’m not done with you yet, omega. Be quiet and settle down. Take what alpha gives you.” 

Tears prickled behind Soap’s eyes. He got his elbows under himself and lifted his head up off of the nest as far as he could, breathing easier without the blankets in his face. He yelps when hot suction suddenly seals around his cocklet with three fingers plunging back into his hole to bully his sweet spot. Thighs shaking, Soap is pushed into another orgasm, face falling back into the sheets, muffling his squeals when Dominic doesn’t let up. Hard sucks and forceful strokes propelling him through one orgasm and directly into the next. 

His honest yelping coaxes Dominic off his cocklet, “Poor omega,” The alpha croons, petting over his thighs and grabbing at his ass, “So needy. It’s okay, alpha’s here. Alpha will give you what you need.” 

“Knot- Knot me. Alpha, please. Need it.” Soap begs shamelessly, the heat roaring through him stoked by his untied orgasms, his body painfully demanding for him to be knotted and filled.

“I don’t know,” comes Dominic’s teasing reply, leaking more false sympathy than Soap’s hole was leaking slick, “Have you been a good omega? Do you deserve my knot?” 

“Yes, Yes.” Soap nods as much as the collar allows, still careful to smother his accent, “Please, need it.”

“Okay, omega. Alpha will help you.” Dominic’s fingers pull out of him and an actual sob escapes Soap when instead of a cock, he feels a tongue push into his hole. He purposely turns into the sheets to muffle his cries, his instincts rioting and his climbing temperature making him feel sick.

A brief unwelcome stroke over his asshole yanks him from his spiral. His head snaps up, eyes wide and stinging with unshed tears. Did he imagine it? His chest heaves and he freezes perfectly still, staring blankly down at the tangle his nest has become. 

A finger, wet with what he can only assume is his own slick, prods past his rim up to the second knuckle and Soap gives a startled yowl, “Nae! Nae! Donnae do tha!”

“No?” Comes Dominic’s skeptical tease, his free hand squeezing goadingly at Soap’s hip, “My poor Omega doesn't want all his heated holes nice and full?”

Soap frantically shakes his head, lacking words, but filled with denial. Tears knocked loose and coursing unseen down his cheeks.

“Alright,” Dominic agreed, no less skeptical, but slowly withdrawing his finger regardless.

When Soap felt that same finger slide down to line up with his hole’s entrance the omega is willing to admit that he may have come a little unglued.

He snarled, wriggling and kicking back at the alpha, yanking bruises into his wrists in the shape of the cuffs that bound them. Soap managed to thrash his way upright and huddled up against the headboard. Hissing at the flabbergasted alpha knelt at the foot of the bed, giving another throat tearing snarl when Dominic tried to reach for him. His instincts in full control and having decidedly assessed the alpha to be a bad heat partner. 

Keeping his full attention on the man, Soap brought his wrists up and bit open the carabiners, untethering the cuffs from the collar then unfastening the cuffs to slide them off altogether. His freed hands immediately moving behind his neck to unbuckle the collar, fumbling blindly and growling with bared teeth when the alpha made a move towards him. Managing to finagle the first buckle loose, he unhooked the second with much more finesse. Tossing the collar aside, Soap heaved a breath of relief, hands coming up to rub at his sore mating glands, the glands feeling nearly bruised from the constant pressing of the collar. 

“John, Calm down,” Dominic spoke up, voice slow and hesitant, “Everything’s fine, stop freaking out,”

Soap would have liked to close his eyes and regroup, but really didn't like the idea of leaving Dominic unsupervised. Instead he started up his breathing exercises again while keeping the alpha firmly within his sights.

In for four, hold for four, out for four.

“That’s good. Just calm down,” Dominic praised, stretching forward to reach for Soap’s drawn up knees. 

Soap tossed the idea of regulating his breath out the window and drew himself up, “Dominic,” He ground out of a throat that only wanted to produce growls, “Do. Not. Touch. Me.” 

Dominic sat back on the bed, stymied, thoroughly confused, and a little offended. 

Soap’s temperature was spiking, though the want to be knotted and filled had completely vanished. Falling forward onto his hands, Soap panted for air, sweat pouring down his skin. His vision was fading, the sound of Dominic saying something coming through muffled, like his ears were stuffed with cotton. Chills and prickles raced up his spine to dance over his scalp. His throat felt like it was shrinking to the size of a straw. 

Something wet touched his bottom lip and he was automatically gulping down the water before he consciously made the decision to drink. The ringing faded from his ears just enough for him to hear Dominic.

“-hn, I called the emergency line. There’s a nurse comi-”

Soap’s vision blacked out.

When he blinked back to himself he was flat on his back with something cold pressing against the nape of his neck and his legs being held aloft by a beta woman that was standing beside the bed. Struggling to get his eyes to properly focus, he grunted his confusion.

“Hello, Mr Mactavish. I’m Kelly. How are you feeling?” The beta, Kelly, spoke with a voice that was friendly, but not perky. More of a matter-of-fact warmth. 

“Pre’y shite,” He groaned out, letting his eyes fall closed again as he rubbed at his face. Dimly registering that a thin blanket had been draped over his hips to cover his unmentionables.

“Yeah, I’d guess so,” Kelly commiserates, gently lowering his legs back onto the bed, “Could you keep your knees up for me? Just like that. Perfect. So, Mr Mactavish, you’ve just had a rather bad bout of Heat Rejection,” Kelly informs him, while keeping a grounding hand on his obediently raised knees, “It’s completely natural and not at all life threatening, the symptoms should level out within the next twenty-four hours. You’re welcome to ride it out in the medical suite here with us, or if you have someone that you can call that can sit with you for that time you’re free to leave.”

Soap slowly thinks this over, cracking open an eye and blearily noticed that the room is empty of anyone but Kelly and himself. “Dominic,” He grunts, not quite managing to make it pitch up into a question.

“I asked Mr Wilckes to wait in the hall, as I wasn’t sure if his presence would make you uncomfortable.” Kelly is a consummate professional, but Soap thinks he can detect hints of scorn flitting about the corners of her eyes, “I can call him back in if that’s what you want.”

“Nae.” Soap denies, “Nae, I dun wan’ ‘im ‘ere. If ye coul' pass me mah phone I’ve someone tha’ can take me outta y’ur hair,”

Kelly kindly fetches his phone, though she doesn’t let him sit up to make the call. Eyeing Simon’s contact, he mentally apologizes to everyone on the base for the chaos he’s about to unleash, then hits dial.

He’s barely had the time to move the phone to his ear when the call is picked up.

“Johnny?” Ghost’s harried voice barks down the line, “What’s wrong?”

“Why’s some’hing gotta be wrong fer me tae call ye, L.T,” Soap bitches, trying to calm Ghost down from the lather he’s no doubt already worked himself into, “Gonnae gi’ a man a complex,”

“What’s wrong, Johnny” The voice that rumbles from the phone is pure domineering alpha and it kicks a reflexive placating whine from Soap’s chest. 

“Si, ah need ye tae come ge’ me,” Soap mumbles down the line, his bravado drowned by the sudden twisting need he has for Ghost to be here with him. 

“I’m coming, Johnny.” Is the immediate reply, and by the rustles coming from Ghost’s side of the call, Soap knows he’s hauling ass, “Can you stay on the line? Are you hurt?” 

“Ah’m fine, Si. Ah’m no' hurt,” Soap lets his eyes fall closed again, ignoring the judgmental look Kelly shoots him for his little fib. In his own defense, he’s not physically hurt. From what he knows of Heat Rejection, his body is just gonna be all kinds of outta wack while his hormones try to rapidly bring him back down to baseline. For now, he’s content to listen to the sounds of Simon snapping at any unfortunate soul that dared get in his way. Soap only realises that he’s begun purring when a quiet answering purr comes from Simon. 

The slam of the room door opening jolts Soap out of the calm daze he’d fallen into and he reflexively punts the most pertinent object at the intruder. Unfortunately, that object happened to be the phone he’d been holding, even more unfortunately, the intruder was Ghost. 

Ghost easily ducks the unconventional projectile and covers the distance to the bed so fast, Soap could have sworn he teleported. From Kelly’s jump she also wasn’t expecting a man of Ghost’s size to move with that speed. 

Spooky bastard, his L.T.

“Ghost!” he cheers and is climbing up the alpha to nuzzle into his neck before he can rein in his rampant instincts. 

Omega and alpha freeze, Soap midnuzzle and Ghost with his hands reflexively clamped around his Sergeant’s bare thighs. 

Kelly, the blessed angel she is, gently clears her throat. Effectively snapping the awkward tension.

“Mr MacTavish is experiencing Heat Rejection and needs someone that is able to stay with him for the next twenty-four hours, or until his symptoms abate.” She looks up at Ghost, clad in his full skull-plated balaclava and half his field kit, without fear. Soap must have called while he was busy terrifying the rooks, “Can you do that?”

Ghost gives her a solemn nod, “Yes.” 

“Perfect,” Kelly starts listing symptoms, proper care practices, and things to watch out for when dealing with Heat Rejection and Soap is man enough to admit that he didn’t listen to a lick of it.

He was busy oscillating wildly between bone shaking horror that he was clinging to his Lieutenant while bare as a newborn, a deep seated greedy pleasure that Simon had come for him without question, and the brainless need to purr and rub against this perfect alpha until the rejected alpha’s scent was gone from his skin.  

Ghost’s hands gently squeezed his thighs, then loosened as he leaned forward a bit to encourage Johnny to stand on his own. Soap gave a petulant whine, but a reassuring purr and a gentle pat to his thighs had him reluctantly hopping down. Before his instincts could coax his better sense into indulging in a full blown pout for having to give up his prize, he was distracted by the sight of Ghost knelt at his feet holding out a pair of trackies for him to step into. 

If the mere thought of any kind of sexual touch didn’t currently make Soap want to run all the way back to Alba, Ghost on his knees for him would be a very enticing image, he couldn’t guarantee that it wouldn’t be the only thing on his mind the next time the need to let off steam hit either. For now, however, Soap was tired to his core and was pitifully grateful for the help as he stepped into the trousers, letting Ghost draw them up over his hips. 

Feeling like naught more than a bairn, Soap threw his arms up at Ghost’s gesture and let the man pull a shirt over his head. The impression was not helped by Ghost then immediately picking him up and perching him on his hip. The man was only eleven centimetres taller than him, where did he get off manhandling him like he was some kind of waif. Soap grumbled to himself, but was disinclined to actually demand he be allowed to walk on his own. Content to wrap all his limbs around Simon, like a particularly lonely limpet, and purr like a motorbike while rubbing their jaws together. 

There was a bit of a scuffle when Ghost had to convince him to let go and get in the car, but by the time the car was parked again Soap was barely conscious. He dully registered Simon picking him up out of his seat, the tension falling out of his muscles when he recognized the smells of their base. He thought he heard Prize and Gaz, but their voices were far away and the rumble of Simon’s chest was nice against his. 

Johnny cracked open an eye when he was plopped onto a bed, content to drowsily track Simon as the alpha threw his duffle, once again stuffed to bursting with blankets, next to the laundry bin. Simon heading for the door sent an unpleasant jolt through him and he whined forlornly, desperate to keep his alpha here with him.

“I’m going for drinks and food, Johnny,” Simon assured him, coming back to pet a hand over his warhawk, “I’ll be right back, I promise,”

Johnny whined again, but did nothing more to stop Simon from leaving. He could also do nothing to stop his instincts from insisting that he had disappointed his alpha and the man was never coming back. Trying to appease the gordian knot his logic and instincts were tying themselves into, Johnny started rumpling around in the bed he’d been deposited onto to make up a new nest. A deep rolling purr bursting from him when he realized it was Simon’s bed. No doubt the alpha’s instincts were also going haywire, demanding he protect the omega.

No better place than the heart of his own territory for that, Johnny supposed. 

The door opened and Johnny’s reflexive hiss broke into another purr, the mere sight of Simon cutting through his anxieties. He actually barked a few ecstatic chirps when the alpha dropped lovely soft clean scentless blankets onto the bed. Johnny hadn’t chirped since his age was in the single digits, but Simon bringing him blankets -his alpha contributing to their nest-, was really doing it for him. 

Johnny lost himself in weaving the perfect nest, as he always does, and once he deemed it faultless he looked for his alpha. 

Simon was standing, backed against the wall on the other side of the room, with his hands palms out and his chin tipped up to expose his throat. His bare uncovered balaclavaless throat, to match his bare uncovered balaclavaless face. 

Oh, Johnny's alpha was perfect.

The omega might have gotten a bit overwhelmed by the sheer excellence of his alpha as he immediately went limp to flop and roll in his nest. Catching a glimpse of Simon flinching forward at his abrupt fall before realising what Johnny was doing and assuming his non-aggressive stance again, with a perfect peachy pink blush creeping up his throat to bloom over his cheeks. 

“Alpha,” Johnny called him over, patting invitingly at the nest.

Simon took a hesitant step forward and was pulled the rest of the distance to the bed by Johnny’s delighted chirps. The omega was still flopped, but curled around just enough to snag the loose fabric of Simon’s pants, retracting his hand and shaking it out with an unhappy whine when the fabric’s rough texture offended him. In the next second Simon stood before him in only his knickers. Johnny doesn’t think he’s ever seen Simon strip that fast, including that time when Simon's clothes had actually caught fire. 

Johnny gives a surprised meep, gazing wide eyed at the alpha stood vibrating before him, waiting for permission to enter his own bed. Then gets over it and hauls the man down into the nest. Pushing him around until he was in the perfect position for cuddles. Johnny purred, burying his face into the warm nook between Simon’s arm and his side, whining inconsolably when the alpha lifted his arm to give him more room, only purring again when he put it back where it was.

A hand comes up to hesitantly pet over his back, creeping upward to scratch across his nape and dig into the base of his warhawk. Johnny feels his purr drop down his throat to resonate in his chest. Announcing for all who cared to listen that Johnny considered himself to be perfectly safe, cared for, and comfortable. An answering purr kicked on in Simon’s chest and Johnny let himself drift off. 

Knowing Simon wouldn’t hurt him.

Thank You For Reading!

Let's all pray that Dominic wasn't still in the hall by the time Ghost got there, or pray for the opposite, depending on how much you hate Dominic.

So, did y'all know that Tumblr has a "4096-text-characters-per-block limit." ? Cause that was a fun discovery to have while I was trying to put this post together.

I'll admit that this one got minimal editing, if you spot something wrong lemme know!

PekoeHoneynCream's Masterlist

[moonstruckme]

hi :3

everytime i send you a request my personality’s different HAHA

okay, sooo, i was thinking (rare occasion) about your casual dominance story (LOVE btw)

so, how about that EXCEPT reader is the casually dominant one >:)

feel free to ignore this, ik this isnt like what u normally do

love ya MWA

Okay so I swear I tried to do dominant reader but it just turned into this, idk how it happened. She’s not super dominant but she’s not submissive and she definitely gets her way, so I hope you like it <3

cw: alcohol, suggestive content + a bit of light degradation, mdni please

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 601 words

You find the marauders in the living room. At the center of the party, as usual. 

“Hey, gorgeous.” Sirius’ eyes find you instantly. He grins. Remus follows his gaze, and immediately starts talking to James about something else. “I was just thinking about you.” 

“You’re always thinking about me,” you say, bypassing the space he makes for you on the couch to sit in his lap. 

He scoffs, settling his hand on your thigh. You know he can smell your conditioner. You hope he dreams about it. “Sweetheart,” he replies, breath warm on the shell of your ear, “you’re projecting.” 

You let your head fall back on his shoulder, batting your eyelashes up on him. “That’s a five dollar word there, baby. You taking lessons from Remus?” 

Sirius makes a sound like he’s choked on a laugh. He covers it up by taking a sip of his drink. His cropped shirt lifts when he raises his cup, and you swiftly turn around on his lap, covering the slice of abdomen from view. 

He raises an eyebrow at you. He knows what you’re doing, but he hardly minds. You’re conveniently placed to feel something stiff and familiar poking at your heat through his pants. 

You grin and shift a little, delighting when his cheeks pinken. 

Black fingernails dig into your thigh in an attempt to still you. 

“Doll,” Sirius says warningly. 

You ignore him, plucking the cup from his hand and swirling it, sniffing at the liquid inside. Sirius holds your stare as you take a sip. 

“How many of these have you had?” you ask. 

“That there’s my second.” 

You hum, taking another sip. Strong, but not bad. 

“I’m gonna finish this one off,” you tell him. “I think you’re good for tonight.” 

He raises an eyebrow at you. “And why’s that?” 

You lean in close, wrapping one hand around the side of his neck and murmuring against the shell of his ear, “Because it’s no fun fucking you if you’re already stupid when we start.” You back up an inch, looking into eyes now eclipsed by pupil. “Okay, honey?” 

Sirius swallows. You feel the movement of his throat under your hand and stroke the side of his jaw with your thumb. Roll your hips again, just because you can. 

He takes in a sharp breath, hands clamping down on your hips to try and keep you in place. 

“Sirius, mate,” James says from the other side of the couch, “are you alright?” His brow is creased in concern, but you can see the tensed muscles around his mouth from the effort it takes to keep from smiling. Beside him, Remus is doing a much better job at exercising his poker face. “You look like your drink’s gone down the wrong pipe or something.” 

Sirius might normally see the knowing in his friend’s look, too, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. “I’m fine,” he says, voice impressively blase for someone who seems like he could cum in his pants with a couple of strategic movements on your part. “Just thinking it’s time me and my bird get out of here.” 

“What?” You make a show of leaning away from him, and the shift in your weight has Sirius gripping desperately at your hips. “Babe, it’s so early. We’ve only just got here. Let’s give it an hour at least, yeah?” 

“Really?” Sirius asks quietly, urgently. 

You take a slow sip of his drink, letting him see the way your throat bobs when you swallow. 

“Yeah,” you exhale as you finish. “Why, are you in some kind of hurry?”

[evie-sturns]

ᴇxᴀᴍ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ

summary: you're mind is clouded with stress due to the fact your final highschool exams are next week. matt comes over to help you with studying, and also to take your mind off everything.

contains: smut, fluff, small age gap?, swearing, crying.

—--------------------≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫-----------------——

matt and i have known each other since he was 13 and i was 11, our families have been super close for around 7 years. a year ago Matt confessed to me, I felt the exact same.

"oh my fucking god." i groan, throwing my head into my hands as i feel a burning sensation at the back of my throat.

its my final exam week starting tomorrow, and i'm attempting to catch up on last minute homework beforehand. matt graduated 2 years ago, he was top of his class, i pick up my phone and dial his number.

i need desperate help.

"hey!" matt says into the phone, a smile clear by his voice.

i sniffle quickly before starting "please come over nothing is making sense." my voice wobbles as i clutch the phone in my hand.

"oh fuck-.. no yeah ill be round in 5 minutes okay?" he says gently into the phone.

i nod like he can see me, then hang up.

-

i hear my bedroom door opening, my head snaps up to look at him from my bed. hes got worry painted across his face as i see his eyes dart over my matress, which has several books on it. "you okay?" he asks, walking over to my bed and sitting down on it opposite me.

i shake my head "i can't do this shit" i groan, matt nods understandably before grabbing my hands and pulling them away from my face.

"look at me" he says in a serious tone, i tilt my head up and lock eyes with him. "i'm gonna help you okay?"

"thank you," i say as my voice breaks.

he sits up and walks over by my side before plopping down on the bed next to me, he grabs the textbook which has around 15 questions left on it. "not even ai understands it, i tried." i sigh earning a laugh from matt, i lean my head on his shoulder.

"basic algebra, you know this, i know you do sweetheart."

i shake my head "my brains so fucking foggy i bet you i couldnt do a 6th grade multiplication table right now."

"foggy like how" he questions, tilting his head.

"just everything i have so much on my mind." i reply lifting my head off his shoulder and staring at the questions.

"you're okay, look- 'factorising an algebraic equation means writing the expression as product of factors, which are simpler algebraic expressions, this is done..." the rest of what matt says doesnt get through to me, i cant physically wrap my mind around it right now.

i feel my eyes start to water before several tears start to flow down my cheeks, "got it?" matt asks, keeping his eyes fixated on the page resting on the sheets. i stay silent "hello?" he says again, this time looking over at me.

"oh god- no no don't cry" matt panics, grabbing my cheeks and giving me a gentle kiss.

"i can't think." i squeeze out, matt wraps around me. "this might not sound like good timing but, i can.. help you?" he says nervously, grimacing slightly.

i hand him the pencil, his words not passing through. "no no, like i can take your mind off of the work for a little bit" he repeats.

realisation hits me and my eyebrows raise, my head snapping round to look at matt who has an innocent expression plastered on his face. i nod, and without another word my shirt is halfway across the room.

he laughs quietly, his shirt meeting mine in the corner of the room. his chain lays loose on his bare chest. he stands up off the bed, i lie back. "i want you to just be a... - like a uh" my eyebrows scrunch "a what?"

"i hate the word but its the best way i can describe it." matt chuckles, "say it!" i smile

"pillow princess..?" he says quietly, icking himself out.

"okay" i shake my head with a wide grin before.

matts long cold fingers reach out to grab the waistband of my sweatpants, sending goosebumps down my body. he tugs at it gently, letting it slide down my legs.

"you okay?" he asks while unclasping his belt "i think?" i reply stupidly.

he nods, his tongue sticking out to wet his now dry lips. his baggy jeans pool at his ankles, leaving him in his boxers.

"ready?"

i nod, "yep-..yeah"

he stands between my legs before hovering over me, colliding our lips together aggressively.

it never fails to shock me how he can switch from so innocent to so.. different.

i moan lightly into the kiss as i feel his clothed bulge against my inner thigh. he abrubtly pulls away from the kiss pecking kisses down my neck, to my chest, to my stomach.

i squirm desperately on the bed as he pauses just above my clit.

"more." i whine, matt shakes his head, lifting his head up and grabbing my thighs he spreads them further apart.

i throw my head back "fuck." i breathe, before i can breath again matts tip presses against my clit. i instantly look up, questioning how hes just undressed the rest of the way in under a second.

he runs his soft tip through my folds, he presses only an inch or 2 inside of me before he pulls out, continuing to tease me.

"matt i need you." i groan, my back arching off the bed.

"can you get on fours for me sweetheart?" he asks softly, i nod, instantly flipping over and arching my back.

"good girl." he coos, lining himself up with me. "gonna keep being whiny?" he asks, i shake my head no. "thats right." he says.

"this is whats gonna happen okay? you aren't gonna start asking me to slow down because i think we both know how needy you were just acting."

fuck.

i dont think a single sentence has ever turned me on more.

i nod frantically, matt presses down on my back, arching my back more.

i feel him slide halfway inside of me slowly before slamming the rest of his length into me, earning a squeal from me.

before i can even process my thoughts hes slamming full force into me, deeper and deeper each time. my moans cloud the room along with heavy breaths coming from matt.

his tip continues to bruise my cervix, i clench around him each time it does.

"fuck-.." i hear matt whimper lowly from behind me.

he reaches a hand round under me and presses on my lower stomach.

hes never done that before, but holy fuck am i glad he did.

i instantly release over matts cock, clenching harshly around him with a scream.

matt pulls out, releasing over my back.

"you-you okay?" he stammers breathlessly, flopping down beside me.

i nod, my mind fully blank.

i guess him 'helping clear my head' worked.

-

matt finishes redressing me before sitting back down next to me, the air around us is hot and thick, but matts still determened to get this homework done.

"okay- so as i was saying factorising an algebraic equation means writing the expression as product of factors...

-

matt and i have been working through the textbook for about 20 minutes, everything makes sense and now i can't understand what i wasnt understanding earlier.

"you try this one okay?" matt hands me the pencil and i start to scribble down the awnsers. "you got it!" he smiles proudly, kissing my cheek.

i yawn, tired out from.. everything.

"you tired?" he asks, wrapping him arms around me and flopping down on the mattress. "very." i reply, my voice croaky.

"you wanna sleep, we can finish this tomorrow morning okay? and ill just drop you off at school or whatever." he asks, without another word im fast asleep on his chest.

1:24am

i wake up to the sound of pencil scribbling on paper, confused i sit up. matts sitting criss cross on the bed, leaning down over my textbook and filling in all the awnsers.

"matt?" i groan, rubbing my eyes.

"go back to sleep gorgeous," he replys, looking back at me

"what are you doing.." i ask, my eyes adjusting to the light.

"im doing this for you, you already know how to do it, i saw you. you're gonna be too tired to do this in the morning." he says.

i crawl over to matt and smother him in kisses "maattt, thats adorable."

"shush, this is a one time thing." he replys, shaking his head with a smirk.

--------------------

[imaginespazzi]

Part 3: Miss Me, Miss Me Not

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14

And it hits me when the lights go on (shit, maybe I miss you)

(In which a lazy writer somehow still manages to make her deadlines, much to her own shock)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining and a teensy bit of Fluff

Words: 5.8K

TW: Swearing (once again I think that's it?)

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I'm not gonna lie til about an hour ago, I very much did not think I was gonna give y'all a Monday update but here we are! A couple of housekeeping things, I went back and added months to the years so hopefully that's more helpful. I lowkey dislike this part but I felt like the fic needed it and I'm excited to write the next part. Ngl, the editing on this is pretty nonexistent because trying to read this back lowkey killed me so please feel free to point out mistakes so I can fix them. As always, let me know what you liked, and disliked and anything you wanna see going forward. I really appreciate all of y'alls feedback and the long reviews make my day! Have a good rest of your week lovies <3

September 2017

Azzi: just got home :) 

It’s a simple text and it should be easy for Paige to conjure up an equally simple reply. Instead she finds herself typing and deleting, over and over, because nothing sounds quite right. There’s this hollow feeling thrumming in her chest, that has only gotten stronger every passing minute since she’d said goodbye to Azzi at the airport. If she tries hard enough, she can still feel the remnants of their last hug lingering against every inch of her skin. She wants to memorize that feeling and create a blanket out of its threads to numb the ice cold shiver that’s been repeatedly running through her veins from the second Azzi had gotten on that plane. But even that might not be enough. Not when she’s learnt just how warm Azzi’s presence can be and how everything else pales in comparison. 

Paige lies to herself that it’s an accidental slip of her fingers, that she’d meant to press send not call, that she had every intention of hanging up the facetime on the first ring itself. 

But then Azzi picks up on the second one.

And really it would be rude to hang up. 

“Hey what’s up?” Azzi’s face fills the screen, tired eyes staring intently at Paige through the screen. 

“Oh um-” Paige fumbles for words, awkwardly shuffling her feet that are dangling off the side of her bed, “I just wanted to ask how your flight was?”

Azzi raises an eyebrow, “you couldn’t have texted me that?”

“Too tired to text,” Paige lies and the words i just wanted to hear your voice stay stuck, burning hot, in her throat, “gotta save these money-making fingers for more important things.”

“Yeah I’m hanging up-”

“NO-” it comes out far more forceful than it should and if possible, Azzi’s eyebrow shoots up even farther, as Paige clears her throat, “I mean- uh- you didn’t tell me how your flight was.”

Paige is too busy cringing at herself to notice the light blush that tinges Azzi’s cheeks. She’s too busy wondering why this girl brings out this nervous bumbling side of hers to notice the fond smile that almost cracks through Azzi’s lips. 

“The flight was okay. I actually got to sleep this time,” Azzi says pointedly and Paige laughs. 

“So what you’re saying is it was boring as hell.”

“I’m saying it was really peaceful not having someone yapping in my ear while I was trying to sleep.”

“So you didn’t miss me?” Paige presses, trying to keep her voice teasing despite how desperately she wants the admission. 

Azzi hesitates, as if she’s debating with herself, before, “I didn’t say that.”

It’s a little ridiculous how large Paige’s grin is but it’s okay, because Azzi’s smiling back, soft and shy. They’d look foolish to anyone else, the way they’re so intently gazing at each other through a screen as if there’s no barrier between them at all. 

“It’s gonna be weird going to the gym without you tomorrow morning,” Paige confesses after a second, moving to lay down on her stomach. 

“I bet. You’re gonna get absolutely nothing done without me,” Azzi teases dramatically before her eyes soften, “it’s weird that I’m not gonna see you at all tomorrow.”

There’s something gut-wrenching about that admission and yet, there’s something in it that heals a part of Paige’s heart that she hadn’t even known needed to be fixed. It means something to her that Azzi must feel it too. Because if she’s honest with herself, Paige had been just a little afraid that maybe the connection was just in her head, that maybe Azzi was simply tolerating her presence out of kindness. 

“You should just move to Minnesota,” Paige replies finally, “much nicer than Virgina or whatever.”

“Have you ever even been to Virginia?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised as she flips herself to lie on her back, holding her phone above her in a way that lets Paige see entirely too much and yet not nearly enough. 

“No but it sounds boring as fuck.”

“Not with me,” Azzi says, biting her bottom lip sheepishly as soon as the words are out. 

Paige smirks, suddenly filled with a brand new confidence, “yeah? You’d make Virgina interesting for me Fudd? What would we do?”

Azzi licks her lips and Paige feels her mouth go dry. 

“We’d be together,” the younger girl says finally, averting her gaze as the depth of her words begin to make Paige feel like she’s being flooded by an ocean of emotions she’s not quite ready to feel yet, “anything can be interesting if we’re together.”

It would be so easy to come up with a sarcastic quip or tease Azzi for being a sap and yet there’s a certain sincerity in this moment that feels too fragile for Paige to feign nonchalance. 

“Is Virginia nice in the winter?” she asks finally, hands fidgeting with the hair ties secured around her wrist, “Minny’s a little too cold sometimes.”

Azzi’s eyes shine and Paige wants to try and read them, find the little clues hidden in her irises and solve the mystery lingering behind the crimson flush of her cheeks. But the truth is that Paige is a little scared of what she’d find, a little scared that discovering Azzi might mean discovering herself too. 

“You should come find out some time,” the brunette says, casual tone filled with intricacies of something far deeper. It’s the closest they’ve gotten to saying anything of actual substance and they tip-toe around saying what they both want, daring the other to ask first. 

“I dunno,” Paige says, determined to win the game, “I’m not in the habit of showing up to places without a proper invite.”

Azzi scoffs, “a proper invite? Are you expecting someone to send you a carrier pigeon with a gold letter addressed to her royal highness or something?”

“That would be nice,” Paige surmises and Azzi rolls her eyes.

“Does your back ever hurt from carrying that ego?”

“Only hurts from carrying my team.”

“Oh my god you’re so full of it.”

“Full of talent? Yessirrrr.”

Azzi huffs, “Paige.”

“Azzi,” Paige hums. 

“Do you wanna come visit me in Virginia during winter break?” Azzi says finally, a small smile playing on her lips like she’s okay with losing this game as long as it’s to Paige. 

“If I must,” Paige says dramatically, shrugging her shoulders and everything as Azzi lets out an offended squeak. But inside, her heart flutters at the offer, at the idea of seeing Azzi again, even if it feels like a lifetime away. Because as long as it’s Azzi on the other side, Paige and her impatient self can wait however long it takes. 

“Actually you know what nevermind, you don’t gotta come,” Azzi concedes bitterly,  scrunching her face (and Paige would never tell her this but she thinks Azzi looks just a little too cute when she’s mad and so maybe she riles her up on purpose)

“No takesies backsies Az,” Paige sing-songs before her lips uptick from a smirk into something more sincere, “hey Az,” she whispers, giggling to herself when Azzi pretends to ignore her, “I’d really like to come see you in Virginia during winter break.”

And as a brilliant grin dazzles across Azzi’s face, Paige realizes that her favorite thing about Azzi’s smile isn’t when her dimples show or when her eyes twinkle, it’s when it’s there because of Paige, when it’s there just for Paige. 

“Good,” Azzi whispers as they fall into a comfortable silence. 

There’s this serene sense of calm that laces itself around Paige’s nerves. Her normally fidgeting body is content to be perfectly still, an anomaly to her usual demeanor. The truth is that Paige isn’t the kind of person who’s okay with just existing; she likes to spend every second in motion, living out the high. There’s a part of her that’s scared of missing moments, scared that the people around her will leave her behind if she doesn’t chase them. But it’s different with Azzi. The younger girl makes Paige feel like it’s okay if she takes a moment to just breathe. Because Azzi will wait. Because Azzi won’t leave Paige behind. 

“Wait,” it’s a little while before Azzi pipes up, shaking Paige out of her thoughts, “what time is it?”

Paige’s eyes flicker to the time on her phone, confused by the line of questioning, “it’s almost 9 why?”

“Don’t you have a team party or something to go to tonight?” Azzi asks, face scrunching, “I swear you told me you had something tonight.”

“Oh-yeah- Amaya’s back to school thing,” Paige sheepishly scratches her neck, suddenly feeling itchy in her flannel shirt. She’d forgotten she was wearing that instead of her daily clothes. Hell, she’d forgotten she was supposed to be going somewhere in the first place, too occupied with other thoughts. 

“Bro get up,” Azzi orders, “you’re already late.”

“Nah it’s fine. I don’t think I’m gonna go,” Paige says and she thinks she should probably feel a little more guilty about it. 

“What do you mean you’re not gonna go?” Azzi asks in disbelief, “dude you’re the star of the team. You have to go.”

“Amaya will understand besides-” Paige drags in a deep breath, feeling vulnerable as the next words fall out in a quiet whisper, “I don’t wanna hang up yet.”

“Paige c’mon we can talk tomorrow,” Azzi tries to protest but it’s half-hearted at best.

“I wanna talk right now,” Paige argues, “you don’t wanna talk to me?”

For a second Paige thinks Azzi might just say no, might just chip away a little bit of heart with a well-intentioned rejection, but she doesn’t, “always wanna talk to you P.”

“Then don’t hang up. Talk to me.”

And Azzi does. All night. 

Two weeks laters there’s a letter, in an envelope with a picture of a carrier pigeon, that arrives in the Bueckers’ mail box. 

To her royal highness, 

Unfortunately I couldn’t find an actual carrier pigeon (I swear I tried) so this envelope and the mailman will have to do. 

~ You are formally invited this winter break to the Fudd family residence in Virginia. ~

(And you better show up Bueckers)

Yours, 

Azzi

February 2033

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” Ice whines petulantly as she makes herself comfortable on the couch across from where Paige is getting her makeup done, “this is parental neglect.”

Paige laughs, eyes closed, her makeup artist does her mascara, “you’ll survive.”

“You don’t know that” Ice argues, plucking a grape from the fruit basket before segueing into a rant about how boring Arlington, Texas is. 

Paige is grateful for the distraction her younger friend is providing. Her nerves had been on edge since the moment she’d woken up this morning, anxious to get the impending farewell press conference over with. She’d already started accepting that the Wings weren’t the right place for her but that feeling had only been heightened by her trip to the Valkyries. And ever since she’s come back, Paige feels a little bit like she’s sleepwalking through her final moments in Dallas. If she’s honest, she’s probably rushing things a little bit. There’s still plenty of time before she really has to move to Oakland but it had been her choice to move there as soon as possible. Paige had always been good at conjuring excuses and she had plenty as to why she needed to be in California so soon. But at the end of the day it isn’t about training or team bonding or any of the other hundred justifications she’s given anyone who’s asked. It’s about a little girl who’s eyes had been brimming with tears when saying goodbye, a little girl who had made Paige pinky swear that she’d be back as soon as possible. 

Really, Paige thinks she should be applauded for her restraint, because truth be told, the second Stephie’s lower lip had trembled, Paige had been prepared to ask Ice to just ship her stuff to Oakland so that she’d never have to let go of the little girl’s hand. 

And here’s the thing, Paige is willing to admit she wants to go back to the Bay Area for Stephie. It’s that pesky little part of her that’s desperate to go back for Stephie’s mother, to go back for one more hesitant yet lingering touch, that she won’t ever share with anyone else. 

“I never thought I’d live to see you and Azzi willingly playing together again,” Ice says as soon as Paige’s makeup artist leaves the room, “KK and I didn’t even try betting on it, we were that sure it wouldn’t happen. Shit I should have. I totally would have won.”

“Don’t y’all get tired of betting on my life?” Paige asks, rolling her eyes, trying to ignore the first part of what Ice said. 

“Betting on your life has made me hundreds of dollars bro,” Ice says, before a more earnest  look crosses her face, “but genuinely P, are you sure about this? There’s a lot of history there.”

Paige sighs, “it’s not about our history. It’s a basketball decision. And we’re both mature adults who know that. I’m just tryna win. Nothing else.”

“It’s never nothing when it comes to you two.”

“It is this time,” Paige argues adamantly and Ice raises her hands in surrender. 

“I just don’t want another set of teammates to have to deal with y’alls bullshit,” the younger girl teases, but it’s laced with a hint of seriousness that sends a flare of guilt shooting through Paige’s body. 

“Ice-” she begins.

But Ice is quick to change to a lighter subject, “can’t believe Jana’s the one that gets mom and dad back together. I always knew she was the favorite.”

“We didn’t have favorites,” Paige plays along, thankful for Ice and her ability to always keep the tension to a bare minimum. 

“Oh don’t lie. We all know you did,” Ice scoffs and then lets out a chuckle, “and now Azzi’s actually a mom. That’s kinda insane. And you met the kid right?”

“Yeah. Yeah I did,” Paige says and she can’t help the way her entire face breaks into a gleaming smile as her thoughts turn into memories of Stephie. She doesn’t even realize she’s gotten lost in a different world until Ice coughs, an amused grin playing on her lips. 

“You’re so royally fucked Paige,” Ice shakes her head, “the only person I’ve seen you smile that big for before is Azzi.”

“She’s a cute, smart, adorable kid, that’s why I’m smiling,” Paige tries to defend herself. 

“She’s Azzi’s cute, smart, adorable kid,” Ice counters. 

“That has nothing to do with it,” Paige protests again but it rings hollow to her own ears.

“Oh my god I needa call KK and get this bet started. It’s only a matter of time for real,” Ice says, more to herself than to Paige, as she whips out her phone, probably texting KK. 

“A matter of time till what?”

“You’ll find out Paigey,” Ice says gravely with a mocking smile, patting Paige’s head, “all in due time.”

***

The Dallas Wings media room is buzzing, reporters desperate to ask Paige questions and the blonde tries to maintain a smile despite the fact that her heart is lurching in her throat right now. Her opening speech had been short and sweet, parroting basically the same thing that had gone out on her social media the night before; she’d been desperate to just get it out. Generally, Paige is pretty good with the media, having been immersed in the spotlight since basically forever. The attention and how to maneuver it has always come naturally to her so she’s not sure why she feels so unnerved by it all today.  From the back of the media room, Ice sends her a thumbs up and a reassuring grin and Paige lets out a breath, glad to have at least that comforting presence with her. 

“Aidrian Ginsburger with Bleacher Report, Paige, you’ve obviously spent all of your career so far with the Wings, can you tell us a little bit about the impact this organization has had on you?”

Paige smiles at the question, letting her brain skim through pages and pages of fond memories she has of time spent with this team. It might be time to move on but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have plenty of cherished moments. 

“Yeah um- this place has really shaped who I am as a person. Since day one, the front office, obviously it’s a different one to the one I came in with, they did a lot to make sure that I was comfortable. My teammates through the years have been incredible and I wouldn’t be the player I am today without them. And of course the fans you know, they always showed out for the team, for me. Always supported me in anyways and I hope that I was able to give back the love to them that they always gave to me,” she says, suddenly nostalgic for the team that had started it all. 

The next questions are similar in nature and Paige’s answer varies only in words but not substance. She feels herself start to settle into it, now fielding the expected questions about the Wings and Valkyries with an air of confidence. There are a couple questions about Azzi that make her heart thump, but that was to be expected. It’s a pretty brilliant story in the making, two MVPs who used to play on the same college team coming together. Talia had warned Paige in advance that there was no avoiding it. But for the most part the questions have an easy answer about how Azzi’s a brilliant player and she’s excited to play with her old friend again. That is until a familiar hand shoots up and all the tension that had previously dissipated, comes roaring back with a vengeance. 

“Olivia Reynolds with the Dallas Morning News, Paige, as others have said today, you and Azzi Fudd played together at UConn and you were best friends.” Olivia’s eyes glint viciously, “I mean it’s pretty well documented how hard you tried to recruit her to UConn. But despite being best friends, the two of you have been never seen hanging out, outside of games and formal events, unlike your other teammates that is-”

“Is there a point to this?” Paige asks, hands fisting in her lap as she tries to keep herself calm. 

Olivia smiles, sugary sweet, “I was just wondering if maybe there was some tension and how that would affect your on-court chemistry at the Valkyries?”

“There’s no tension,” Paige lies through gritted teeth, “we didn’t hang out because we live far apart. There isn’t much else to it. And even if there was, Azzi and I are professionals. We wouldn’t let anything off the court affect our goal to win.”

“You lived far apart before UConn too, but that didn’t seem to stop you guys. What changed?” Olivia presses.

“Time did. Our lives did. There’s nothing sensational here. It’s just a case of two people drifting apart,” Paige says and the fabrication feels heavy on her tongue. If only it really had been that simple. 

“But clearly not that much,” Olivia says, and Paige glances at the moderator, desperate for an intervention, “there were plenty of fan pictures of the two of you out getting ice cream with Azzi’s daughter. It seems like you’re already fitting into that Bay Area life-”

“I’m not hearing a question at the end of your sentence,” Paige hisses and she can practically already hear the scolding she’s going to get from Talia once her agent gets wind of how this press conference had gone. The entire media cohort is watching the exchange with wide eyes, no doubt questioning whether they were embarrassed or impressed by their colleague. Ice is mouthing something to Paige, probably something along the lines of please keep your shit together, but Paige is steaming. Really, she should have expected this. 

“Well if you’d let me finish,” Olivia snarls, the façade of innocence dropping, “even if the two of you have drifted, as you put it, clearly there’s still a relationship there. How big of a role did Azzi Fudd play in your choice to move to the Valkyries?”

Paige sucks in a deep breath, nails digging into her palm at the question, “Azzi is the best shooting guard in the country. That was her role in my decision to move to the Valkyries. I don’t know what else you’re trying to imply, but I want to play with her because we play well together. That’s it,” she stands up and there’s pin drop silence, “thank you all for coming but we’re done with this press conference. 

***

Paige is seething as she exits the media room, Ice hot on her heels trying to calm her down. The sane part of her knows she should head back to the makeup room or even to her car, instead she finds her feet carrying her in the direction of where she knows Olivia Reynolds will be, reviewing her press conference notes by the coffee machine like she always is. 

“What the actual fuck was that?” Paige spits as she comes to a halt in front of the reporter. 

“I know you think playing basketball is the only job in the world Paige, but that was a reporter doing her job,” Olivia says, her calm and composed voice only furthering Paige’s irritation. 

“Bull-fucking-shit.” Paige sneers, “that wasn’t a reporter out there, that was my ex-wife grilling me like we were back in fucking divorce court.”

Olivia cocks her head, “oh so you do remember who I am to you then?”

“Oliv-”

“Because if you did remember, I’d like to think you’d have the courtesy to at least personally tell me that you were moving to your,” she drops her voice, “ex-girlfriend’s team instead of letting me find out with the rest of the world. You don’t think you owed me that?”

“That’s what this is about?” Paige sighs, “Olivia we’ve been divorced for almost three years now, I don’t owe you-”

“You didn’t owe Azzi anything either,” Olivia whisper-yells, the calm in her voice replaced by the same anger that had tainted the last year of their marriage, “but when we first started dating, you kept us a secret for months. You wouldn’t even tell your fucking teammates cause you were so scared she’d find out,” her eyes drift towards Ice who looks like she wishes she’d made a different decision rather than following Paige out here, “you said she deserved to hear it from you but apparently I don’t-’

“I didn’t mean it like that Olivia. Look, I meant what I said up there. There’s nothing between- ”

“Spare me,” Olivia says, as she stuffs her notepad into her bag, “you can lie to all those other reporters out there about how all of this is a basketball decision. You can even lie to yourself if you want. But you can’t lie to me, not when I spent four years fighting to keep our relationship from getting crushed under whatever it is that Azzi is to you.”

***

It doesn’t matter how far Paige burrows her head into her pillows, she can’t seem to stop herself from hearing Olivia’s words reverberating through her ears. The two of them had done well at co-existing in their social circles after the divorce had been finalized. While no one could quite call them friends, they’d done a good job at being friendly, being able to converse and share an occasional drink when in their combined friend group. And if Paige is honest, she knows she’s fucked up, knows she probably did owe Olivia a call. But calling Olivia would have meant calling someone who would inevitably make Paige face the truth, just like she had today. The truth that, even with the deal Talia had concocted with the Liberty hanging in the background like a dark presence, the move to the Valkyries was about a lot more than just basketball for Paige. 

She’s so entrenched in her thought that she doesn’t bother checking who it is when the facetime rings, irritation seeping into her voice as she answers it, face still buried in her pillows, “WHAT?”

“Miss Buecks?” a tiny voice comes through the phone and for a second, Paige thinks she must be dreaming, until she finally lifts her head to look at her phone, and Stephie’s small face lights up the whole screen. And it’s like she can feel little hands on her shoulders, slowly unknotting her tightened muscles. 

“Stephie,” she breathes out, a sudden sense of serene calm washing over her previously tense body. 

“Hi Miss Buecks,” Stephie says happily before she squints at the screen, “you sleep weird.”

Paige laughs, “and why’s that?”

“You’re not wearing pajamas and it’s only seven. ‘Dults don’t sleep at seven,” Stephie says matter-of-factly. 

“It’s actually nine here,” Paige says, a little surprised by the time; she hadn’t realized she'd been moping in her bed for that long. Ice had forced her to get lunch together, not wanting to leave Paige alone after the encounter with Olivia. Once she’d finally gotten back to her apartment, Paige had flopped on her bed, taking out her frustrations on her poor pillow. 

“That’s not poss-ble,” Stephie scrunches her face, “Mama’s phone says it’s seven.”

“It’s seven in California, it’s nine in Texas,” Paige tries to explain though by the way Stephie’s looking at her, she thinks she’s probably just confusing the girl more, “how’d you figure out how to call me babe?”

Stephie gives her an exasperated look, “Miss Buecks I’m five. I know how to use facetime.”

“And does your Mama know you're facetiming me?” Paige asks, eyebrows raised.

“She’s in the shower,” Stephie whispers, grinning sheepishly. 

As if on cue, Azzi appears on the corner of the screen and Paige feels her mouth run dry. The darker skinned woman is clad in a light pink fluffy bathrobe that ends right above her knees, giving Paige the perfect view of her long, toned legs that seem to shimmer despite the shitty quality of the facetime. Rivulets of water cling to her neck, delicately cascading down the valley of her breasts before disappearing from sight. And Paige must be dehydrated because never has she wanted to taste a drop of liquid more than she does right now. 

“Stephie,” Azzi groans, as she walks towards the phone and Paige gulps, heart beating faster with every step the other woman takes, everything about her becoming clearer and clearer, “what did I say about using my phone.”

“Only in em-a-gencies,” Stephie recites, “but Mama I had an em-a-gency.”

Azzi tilts her head, eyebrows raised as she gives her daughter a knowing look, “and what was your emergency?”

“I really, really, really, this much” Stephie stretches out her hands as far as they’ll go,  really, really, really, miss Miss Buecks.”

Paige feels her heart flutter. Stephie’s words feel like a hand carefully pulling her out from under the pile of stress she’d been buried under the whole day. It’s like the little girl is pushing away the rubble pressing against her lungs, turning the rocks into dust with a light touch and Paige feels like she can finally breathe. 

“Sounds like a pretty big emergency to me,” she says, relishing the way Stephie’s face lights up at the admission, “cause I really, really, really miss you too Steph.”

“See Mama,” Stephie says, placing the phone against a wall so can place her hands on her hips and look up at Azzi with a pleased smirk. 

Azzi rolls her eyes before glaring at Paige, “you’re a bad influence on her.”

“I’m the best influence on her,” Paige argues, sending Stephie a conspiratorial wink, “just you wait Az, I’mma teach her all the good things.”

Something unreadable flashes across Azzi’s face before she’s back to looking at Paige with an unimpressed arched eyebrow, “I am not letting you corrupt my daughter Paige Bueckers.”

“We’ll see,” Paige says slowly and Azzi shakes her head before turning to Stephie. 

“Alright Stephie bean time to go brush your teeth. It’s almost bedtime babes,” she says with a stern look 

“But Mama-”

“No arguing, you have school tomorrow missy,” Azzi reminds the little girl and Paige can’t help but marvel at the mother that Azzi’s become. And it makes her heart ache for the fantasies she’d dreamed of when she was in her early twenties. She’d always known Azzi would be a great mother; Paige had just naively thought she’d be there alongside her too. 

“Can Miss Buecks stay on the phone till I fall asleep?” Stephie asks, peering up at Azzi with big doe eyes, “please Mama pleeeease.”

“I’m sure Miss Buecks has other things-”

“I don’t,” Paige cuts in far too enthusiastically, clearing her throat to get back some semblance of restraint as both mother and daughter turn to look at each other, “I don’t have anything to do tonight so I can stay till you fall asleep Stephie.”

“YAYY,” Stephie cheers enthusiastically while Azzi studies her with a weary look, “I’m gonna go brush my teeth and then you can read me, my story Mama.”

With that, the little girl runs in the direction of what Paige can only assume is the bathroom, skipping with childlike joy as she sing-songs about something Paige can’t quite make out. 

“You know you don’t have to say yes to everything she asks right?” Azzi says slowly as she grabs her phone and sits on the couch. 

Paige shrugs, “I have time to stay.”

“Do you?” Azzi asks skeptically, “because from what I heard the Wings are having a little farewell party tonight, for you.”

Paige narrows her eyes, “and how exactly did you hear that?”

“I have connections.”

“You talked to Ice.”

“I talked to Ice,” Azzi concedes, “and I’m pretty sure you’re already an hour or so late for it.”

“Exactly. I’m already an hour late so why bother,” Paige says, sitting up so she can rest head against her headboard, “why were you talking to Ice?”

“I can’t talk to my friend?” Azzi asks slowly. 

“Of course you can but why specifically today?” Paige presses 

Azzi bites her lip, “I um- I watched your press conference today. You uh-” she averts her gaze, “you seemed really stressed at the end and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

A soft grin upturns Paige’s lips before she can stop it, “were you worried for me Fudd?”

“That’s not-” Azzi groans, “shut up.”

Paige smirks, “you were worried for me.”

“I was concerned for my future teammate," Azzi huffs, “besides,” her face hardens, “she was way out of line.”

Paige sighs at the implied mention of Olivia, “maybe but maybe I deserved it.”

“No you didn’t,” Azzi protests and that oh so familiar protective tone in her voice carves itself into every crevice of Paige’s heart, “no one deserves to be put on the spot like that. She was being unethical trying to dig into your personal life like that.”

“This is nice,” Paige says softly, unable to help herself. 

“What is?” 

“Seeing you get all defensive over me. It's nice to see you still care. I didn’t know if you still did.”

Azzi’s quiet for a second, gnawing at her bottom lip as she looks at Paige, “I’ve always cared Paige. And-” she hesitates as the tightrope beneath them wavers, “I’m always gonna care.”

There’s years worth of unsaid words lingering in the silence between them as they breach some unspoken rule they’d both inadvertently agreed to. And they both know that they shouldn’t be saying things like this to each other, that they’re teetering on the edge of falling into an abyss that has nothing but destruction at the bottom. But Azzi’s words feel like sunshine, like heat waves across her skin and Paige is so tired of feeling cold. 

Before either of them can say another word, Stephie comes back into the room, crawling into Azzi’s lap.

“I’m back,” she beams, completely unaware of the way the two adults are scrambling to act normal around her. 

“Here baby,” Azzi hands the phone to Stephie, “take Miss Buecks to your room. Mama’s gonna go change and then she’ll come read to you okay?”

“‘Kay Mama,” Stephie complies, pressing a soft kiss to Azzi’s cheek before running towards her room. For a second Paige’s screen is blurred in motion until Stephie fixes her again and Paige catches a glimpse of Stephie’s room, specifically the walls that are painted the perfect shade of Valkyrie purple. 

“I love your walls Stephie,” she compliments.

“They’re pu-ple,” Stephie exclaims, “that’s my favorite color.”

“First the ice-cream, now the color, you’re stealing all of my favorites kid,” Paige teases but she’s secretly pleased by this revelation. It’s dangerous how fast Stephie’s starting to whittle down Paige’s walls and build herself a permanent shelf in Paige’s cabinet of my people. 

“Can I tell you a secret Miss Buecks,” Stephie whispers, bringing her lips closer to the phone. 

Paige smiles, “of course you can.”

“I think Mama misses you too,” Stephie says softly and Paige feels her heart catch in her throat, “I heard her tell Nanna on the phone.”

“Can I tell you a secret Stephie?” Paige lowers her voice, leaning into her phone. 

“‘Course you can Miss Buecks.”

Paige swallows as the admission falls from her lips, “I really miss your Mama too.”

I miss her always and I think I’ll miss her forever. 

“What are you the two of you whispering about,” Azzi’s voice cuts in as she tucks herself next to Stephie, a children’s book in her hand. 

“Nothing Mama,” Stephie says immediately, winking at Paige through the phone. 

“Yeah,” Paige echoes, ignoring her erratic heartbeat, “nothing Azzi.”

Azzi looks between the both of them, clearly aware she’s being left out of something, but doesn’t push further. Instead she flips open the book, pulls Stephie closer into her arms and starts reading. If anyone were to ask Paige later, she wouldn’t have the faintest idea about a single word in that damn book. Because as Azzi’s soothing voice begins to lull Stephie to sleep, and the younger girl, despite her yawns, holds the phone up so the blonde can be included in every second of it, Paige feels herself being pulled into a dream she has no right to dream. She dreams of being in Stephie’s purple bedroom. She dreams of her and Azzi lying against Stephie’s lilac bedspread, their hands entwined in the middle over Stephie’s little body. She dreams of a forever that she’d long forsaken.

[gladiatorcunt]

Literally begging you to please write more Patrick Zweig x Reader fics 🥵🥵

cw: 18+ MDNI, afab reader, hints of patrick x art / patrick x reader x art, consensual and accidental somno, gross patrick, hint of breeding kink, college era ish, mention of ass play, unedited

Tired Loser Bf!Patrick who hikes one of your thighs over his, pressing up against you and sinking back into your already wet pussy. It’s so early in the morning, but sometimes he gets in a mood where he just needs to go lose himself in your cunt even if you’re not contributing. You hum and snuggle further into the silk pillowcase, relishing in the too tight grip of your plush love handles and the sloppy sounds his balls make against your ass. You hardly spend any time together due to his career rhat’s been on a bit of a decline, so you’re more than happy to be his toy if that’s what makes him feel like he’s worth anything. Like he can only find meaning in the warm walls of your pussy, and ass, on occasion.

It’s either this or quick fucks on the counter or kitchen table, both of you nearly clawing at each other in desperation to all but consume the other. Sometimes it’s softer, slow thrusts angled to perfectly hit the right spot every time as he trails open mouthed kisses along your collarbone. Patrick offers to take a shower after coming home sweaty and disgusting but you always say that you prefer him like that anyway. He whines pathetically for a kiss for you and for him from a best friend you’ve never met into your neck and pounds you harder. Your eyes flutter half open at the impact, the grunts behind you and the thick weight moving in and out of you being the only things you can comprehend.

“Glided right in, didn’t even have to finger you or anything.” He moans too loudly for sleepy sex at 5 in the monring. “Always so ready for me, just how i like you.”

“Uh! Uh huh-“

You sigh and nod into the pillow, lazily throwing your ass back on his cock as he fucks you. His pace is so fast that you’re worried he might throw his back out, it’s so frantic and desperate, like he’s trying to stab your guts and leave a permanent mark on you from the inside. You zone in on his heavy breathing, he grinds his length deeper inside and lifts one of your ass cheeks just to watch it fall and jiggle back into place. It’s almost like he’s on the court, eyes watching the ball like a hawk and giving you the most toe curling punched out sounds when he hits it. His precision and raw enthusiasm has you gasping.

The sun’s not far off from rising, so you give up on getting anymore meaningful rest and drown in the intense smell around you. Sweat, slick, old almost acidic cum from when he bred you in his sleep, take out containers from last night that haven’t been thrown away, sharp and piercing autumn air, Patrick’s horrific axe body spray, your much more pleasant cherry blossom body wash. His thrusts send you rocking up the bed, tits swaying back and forth in the mess of tangled thin sheets. Your still half concious but he fucks you like he’s been awake for hours, eyes wide and crazed and brow furrowed like he needs so much more of you than he thought. He moans two names after quick sucks to both of your nipples, one for each. Yours and that same best friend’s.

The red cap Patrick has stashed away in the nighstand collects dust like a skeleton in a closet. There are sessions where he won’t, or maybe can’t, cum unless you cry and whine for that best friend too. You don’t even know who you’re begging for another cock to steal your voice and ravage your throat, but you do it and take note of the euphoric shout that rattles all the way out of Patrick’s chest, the all too pleased sigh into the valley of your breasts. You don’t ask in the shower or in bed, the buried sadness he carries like a chain gives the impression that the abscence is not his choice. Might be a nice birthday present, a reunion.

You wake up more as he goes insane with his fucking, his arm restrains your thigh and pulls it up so high you can feel the muscle stretching. He doesn’t communicate beyond feral grunts and something primal between a growl and a whimper, making sure you can really feel his thick cock bullying your poor pussy beyond repair. You never mind, in fact some days it’s you who wakes Patrick up by bouncing on him like a cock starved slut. You like when you can’t forget what he’s done to you, when you can raise your head to admire the new necklace of bruises. It’s not like he’s never gentle with you, but you don’t feel ashamed for loving him how he is. The jagged edges and aching need to belong somewhere, to someone.

Sometimes all a relationship needs to work is for the people involved to be the same, deep down or surface level. You take whiffs of his pubes that are too deep to be normal apprection for your partner’s body and he eats his own tangy cum out of your puffy pussy like it’s God’s gift to humanity, spitting the left over jizz and additional saliva into your ass hole and slurping that up too. But in the here and now, he’s fucking you without a goal or an end in sight, heavy balls wetly kissing your lower body with no assurance of being emptied. It could be hours before Patrick lets either of you cum, like it’s one of his games that more closely resembles a heated battle to something that looks and acts like death. Evenly matched, no one being stronger than the other.

So you give him the point and drift off, messily tongue kissing him back and lulling yourself to the chaotic rhythm of his thrusts. Outside, it starts to softly rain, the ambience of the moment softening both of your hearts. You put effort in a real kiss, only for a second, whisper an ‘I love you’ and wait for a resounding ‘I love you too’ before shutting off your brain for the time being.

[tomsdolly]

our special place pt2 ♡ ₊˚⊹

Tom and you have been in love for a while, however, your parents don't accept your friendship with him, since your families were so different. He was raised in a free-spirited way. While you were raised in a totally rough environment with strict parents 𐙚 ˖ ࣪⊹

content/warnings: smut 18+, (p in v), slight teasing, unprotected sex.

"I think I should go..." you said, but Tom just grabbed you tighter and whispered a sweet "no."

"Tom, I need to go home, it's late and my mom might be worried." You said. You really didn't want him to let you go, you wanted to stay with him. "You can spend the night here, I think it would be really nice, please please" Tom pleaded.

You finally let him convince you. "Ahh, okay, I will tell my mom that I am staying with a friend." You took your phone and texted your mom, letting her know this.

You cuddled up with Tom and you two kept on kissing. You were smiling and feeling really special. He always made you feel special.

He leaned his head down and started planting kisses along your jawline, his lips trailing down your neck. He nipped at your skin, his teeth grazing over your pulse point. His hand moved up to your hair, grabbing a handful of it to start kissing you with intensity, making you gasp.

He let out a low gasp at your reaction, the sound sending a jolt through his lower abdomen. He then continued to kiss and nip at your neck, his tongue swiping over your skin.

His hands roamed over your body, touching every inch of you that he could reach. He was being much more needy than usual, his touch desperate.

"Do you have any idea how much you turn me on?"

He spoke, his voice low and gravelly. He moved his hips so that they were pressed against yours, and you could feel the growing bulge in his pants. You could feel your cheeks turning pink, but you knew he was serious.

he started to leave kisses all over your chest, kissing and squeezing your breasts in the process. "You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting this." He spoke breathlessly as his hands moved to your jeans, undoing the button and pulling down the zipper.

He slid your jeans down your legs, practically ripping them off of you. He stared down at you for a moment, taking in the sight of you in just your bra and panties.

He ran his hands over your body again, his touch slightly rougher than usual. His gaze was intense, as if he were trying to memorize every inch of you.

He moved his hands to your hips, moving you up so that you were further towards the center of the bed. He positioned himself between your legs, his weight pressing down on you. He leaned down and captured your lips in a hot, messy kiss. He nipped at your bottom lip, his tongue exploring your mouth as he removed your underwear.

"You want me, baby?"

He asked, his voice raspy. He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear you say it.

"y-yeah, i want you.."

At your words, he moved his body that was positioned between your legs, putting his own pants and boxers off, the head of his member pressing against your entrance. He slowly started to push himself inside of you, his breath coming out in short gasp.

First, he went slow, but then he picked up his pace slightly. His movements became a bit faster and rougher, making you moan and gasp

He groaned at your reaction, the sound sending a jolt through his lower body.

"Shit, you sound so goddamn good."

He panted against your neck, his body beginning to sweat as he pushed himself deeper inside of you. He could feel the heat of your bare skin against his, and it was driving him wild.

He could hardly stand the sight of you, your face and body lost in pleasure.

"You look so goddamn sexy like that."

He panted, his voice thick with want.He moved his mouth back down to your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin. He then started to move his hips faster, his movements becoming slightly more aggressive, making you scream. "S-so good! don't stop!"

"Yeah, I thought so."

He said, a cocky grin on his face.

"You like being at my mercy, being totally overpowered by me. Goddamn, I wish you knew how sexy that is. How goddamn hot you look like this."

His body slammed against yours, the force of his thrusts causing the bed to creak beneath you. "Oh god, yes." He said, groaning against your neck. He loved how your body felt around him, how you squeezed him so perfectly. "Fuck! Tom!" you moaned "I'm so close.."

He was close too. He could feel it in his stomach, building like a coil. He was almost ready to come, but he wanted to wait just a bit longer. He didn't want it to end yet, not when you were taking him so nicely.

"Fuck, you feel so good."

"T-tom, I'm gonna cum!"

His breath hitched when he felt you squeezing around him.

"Ah! oh god, yes!"

"Oh, fuck, you're making me-"

he gasped out, his words getting cut by a loud moan when he felt you cum at the same time as him.

He was breathing hard, and you as well, his chin resting on your chest as he tried to collect himself. "Jesus Christ, you're so perfect, you know that?"

He lifted his head so that he could look you in the eye. His eyes locked with yours, and a warm expression appeared on his face. "I love you, sweetheart. So damn much."

"I love you more.." you replied.

He smiled at your words, his heart swelling with love for you. "I'm the luckiest guy alive, knowing that a girl like you loves me back, you know that?" He leaned in and kissed you again, this time much more gentle and tender than before.

time skip

You both were now dressed. Tom took a shower with you, filled with kisses and care. You checked your phone and told your mom that you were going home now.

"Wanna go tomorrow to the park? we can take ice cream and stuff.." Tom said.

"I have to see"

"Just tell your daddy that you're going to a friend's house again. Maybe then we can come and fu-" You slapped his arm and he laughed slightly. "Tom, my parents are gonna call to my friends' parents if i go out again.." you said.

"I know, I know.. just tell me when you're fee and we can go somewhere" he said, giving you a tight hug and hiding his face in your neck. He loved your essence, he even bought the perfume that you use and he always puts it in his room whenever he misses you. "I'm gonna miss you.." he said as you hugged him too.

then he threw you on the bed and started kissing you again...

-> masterlist

FINISHED