#man is an insane protestant to his CORE

[aqours]

a hc i'll never let go of is that i think Belos would get REALLY fucking mad if you called him a catholic. like you have no idea. i think witches are like, probably the only thing he'd consider worse than a catholic

[missaengg]

A Lazy Sunday Morning

Pairing: Rafayel x f!reader Tags: mdni, mild smut, fluff and humor, p in v sex, sleepy sex, sleepy cuddles, sleepy kisses Word Count: 1365 It was a lovely quiet Sunday morning, the first Sunday you’d been off in weeks, god damn it, and all you wanted was to sleep in, wake up refreshed, and maybe grab a coffee with brunch, not be assaulted by your boyfriend’s half asleep libido! ao3 link here.

It was a lazy Sunday morning. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and Rafayel was pressing his morning wood against your butt from his position as big spoon. But it was no accidental position-related pressing. No, he was most definitely, not so subtly grinding it into your ass.

“Rafayel…” 

Your voice came out as a mewling whine. He had ridden you last night until two in the morning! You were still covered in the remnants of last night’s activities, still red from where he had marked you with his mouth, still raw from the multiple moments of bliss he had given you, and still sore from where he had driven into you many times… so many times. 

“Mornin’,” Rafayel’s sleepy voice mumbled into your hair.

You could tell from his heavy breathing, the way it whistled in your ear, the way his chest pushed against you slowly as he breathed in and out that he wasn’t fully awake. He pressed himself closer to you, one leg hooking over yours until they were tangled. All while he was still grinding his wood… into… your… ass.

You were exhausted and sore and sticky. Neither of you could muster the short trip to the bathroom to wash off after last night’s activities, instead falling asleep soon after in each other’s arms. It was a lovely quiet Sunday morning, the first Sunday you’d been off in weeks, god damn it, and all you wanted was to sleep in, wake up refreshed, and maybe grab a coffee with brunch, not be assaulted by your boyfriend’s half asleep libido — and my god did Rafayel have a little needy libido. The man was insatiable, trying to stick some part of him into you constantly. (Not that you’d ever admit that maybe you couldn’t get enough of him either, and that technically you did wake up refreshed just not in the way people would assume.)

And yet… you felt a pooling begin in your core, a familiar warm, wet arousal, a familiar swelling of your pussy, a familiar aching throb between your legs. You desired to enjoy your lazy Sunday morning with much needed sleep, especially after your — ahem — activities last night, but your body was betraying you, reacting to your boyfriend’s actions behind you.

He was burying his nose into your hair, deeply breathing in the smell of what was left of your shampoo. His hands were creeping up to fondle your chest, fingers lazily tugging at things he had explored thoroughly last night with his hot, pouty mouth. You wanted to protest for him to let you fucking sleep, but that was a lie— you were relishing his touch. He was driving you insane. His hot breath. His desperate hands. His firm body running along yours. His long length pressed against your ass cheek.

Rafayel stirred from behind you, little sleepy moans breaking the silence of the room, his little Rafayel growing even stiffer — was that even possible?!

“I wanna— I wanna feel you.”

The nuzzles in your hair were demanding. He moved his hips so that he was aligned with you from behind, a little sleepy hum of approval in his throat when his tip grazed along your sweet arousal. And then he slid in.

You softly gasped, a little sensual breathy, holy-ducking-shit-that-feels-so-ducking-good gasp. He slid in without much effort because you were so fucking wet, burying himself deep until he reached the hilt. Despite how many times he had been inside you the night before, he still left you feeling absolutely, deliciously stuffed. He wasn’t too big or too small, he was just right almost like his dick was made just for you. You reactively clenched around him, shivering from the anticipation of what he would do to you.

But then nothing. His normally greedy hands were still on your body. His normally desperate cock remained only buried. His labored breathing finally floated into your ears. You turned your head around to glance at him. 

“Raf?”

He didn’t respond. He had a peaceful expression on his face, an adorable little grin gracing his lips, strands of his soft purple hair falling into his closed eyes. You reached a free hand back to softly brush them out of his face.

“Are you… sleeping?”

A noncommittal grunt rumbled from within him. Your mouth dropped open. The man had fallen back asleep! You oscillated between feeling incensed at his sleepy, horny, greedy, insatiable self riling you up, rousing all the sleep that you needed away and between feeling giggly, blushy schoolgirl at how goddamn adorable he currently looked in his sleep… with his dick twitching inside you.

You pressed a chaste kiss to his eyelid. Adorable won. Adorable always won. You startled when his eyes fluttered open, gazing into you, still hazy from slumber.

“Mornin’.”

“You said that already.” You giggled at his disorientation. How was he still so cute after all this time?

“I did?”

You nodded. His lips quirked into a lazy smirk.

“You’re warm.”

“Am I?”

“…And wet.”

“…yes?” 

Your voice cracked as you blushed. There was no denying that you were very much turned on, but in your defense, there was a Rafayel inside of you and well, your boyfriend was attractive. Very… very… attractive…

“Again?”

His voice was still heavy from the lingering haze of sleep, but there was a naughty gleam in his eyes now, a wicked mischievous gleam, one that both delighted you and made you shiver.

You didn’t say anything, pouting at his teasing. God, he infuriated you, in both good and bad ways. You felt a hand trail its fingers down your side to your thigh where it lightly traced the letters of what felt to be its owner’s name, R-A-F-A-Y-E-L, so lightly you squirmed from his ticklish strokes.

“Do you want me to claim you again? Last night wasn’t enough?”

The amusement was evident in his tone. It only spurred on your excitement, but you weren’t about to let him win.

“Raf, it’s Sunday. I’m off. I want to sleep,” you whined, but your cunt decided that moment was the moment it would spasm around Rafayel’s cock betraying what you truly wanted. That little fucking mini you bitch.

Rafayel shook in laughter behind you, each laugh vibrating from his body to yours, his damn little mini Rafayel twitching inside eliciting a shiver – or two – from you. He entwined his fingers with yours, and slowly, he moved, but only just. He pulled out only about an inch or two before sliding in again.

“I’ll be gentle after last night’s… activities.” 

His whisper tickled your ear, goosebumps prickling on your skin. He gently pressed his lips along your nape, grazing his nose behind your ear. Last night he was feral, but this morning he was sweet. So deliciously sweet.

You closed your eyes feeling a quiet bliss, content at how his arms enveloped you, how warm his body felt against yours, and how full you felt — physically and emotionally. You reveled in the lazy thrusts of your partner.

Rafayel slowly pulled out, and you looked back confused as to why he stopped, but you soon understood when he carefully rolled you onto your back, positioning himself above you. He guided himself back in, sinking down until all of him was fully flush against you save for his upper chest and face.

“Wanted to see you.”

He rubbed his nose against yours, briefly resting his forehead on you before placing tender, fluttery kisses on your eyelids, your cheeks, the corners of your mouths, anywhere he fancied. He still moved inside of you, but today, it wasn’t so much about the movement, but rather the proximity. If yesterday’s ecstasy was a burning inferno, today’s was a cozy blanket.

You returned his kisses with one of your own, also tender and chaste. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck pulling him as close to you as physically possible without melting into one another.

“Is this lazy enough for you?”

You smiled, a lovely little agreeable smile. Your pussy clenched around him also in agreement, and the most delectable little groan spilled from his lips.

“Yes, I think it is.”

[starsofang]

Change of Heart

hitman!simon x f!reader / FINAL

previous part

tw: NSFW, MDNI, mentions of suicide, heavy angst, please be cautious as always! <3

When life has completely and utterly failed you, you hire a hitman to take you out, too afraid to do it yourself. Instead of killing you like you had planned, he strikes up a deal with you, and you're too stubborn to bail out.

The weight on your shoulders was heavy and exhausting. It caused your body and soul to ache with a crushing feeling of grief. Your conversation with Price played in your mind tenfold, repeating over and over until it drove you to the point of insanity. You feared if you stayed stuck in the loop for a moment longer, your brain might short circuit and you’d succumb to life’s torturous game.

How had things come to this?

Two weeks ago, you should’ve been dead. Two weeks ago, you should’ve denied Ghost’s abrupt deal, you should’ve told him the truth – that you had no intentions of living past that very Friday the two of you planned meticulously to end your life.

Two weeks ago, you should’ve never met Simon.

What was meant to be a task given to you with the purpose of self healing had erupted into an even scarier nightmare. Life would’ve never been so complicated had you denied Simon and stuck to your original plan on desired death. It would’ve never been so complicated had you just done it all yourself instead of pussying out and asking him to finish the job for you.

Now, all that remained was a heart beyond repair, fragments of its shattered pieces being taken away with Simon when he had left.

He had the entirety of your heart, and you didn’t think you’d ever get it back. You couldn’t take it back if you wanted to. It belonged to him, and your heart was loyal to its owner.

All that was left was the, what now? Price had made it clear he couldn’t promise anything. Hell, you wouldn’t blame him if he had just said that in a half-assed attempt of comfort. For all you knew, Simon hadn’t a clue what was going on in the first place, or perhaps he didn’t care. Living without closure of what could’ve been had left you scarred and untrusting, even of the very man you’d fallen in love with.

Love was what always got you into this mess, after all. You couldn’t love yourself, so God was executing punishment by making you unlovable to everyone else. If anything, you should be thanking him for steering you away from more heartache.

Maybe this was how it was meant to be. Simon giving you a taste of what life could be if you had just tried harder, before pulling the candy right out of your mouth before you could protest that you weren’t quite finished with it.

You didn’t reach out to Simon. Even though you were blocked from the moment the two of you had sex and he ran, you didn’t dare try and test out your theory to see if he had undone his action. You weren’t even sure you knew what you could say to him.

While it was clear Price played a dirty hand in creating the drift between the two of you, Simon still allowed himself to be a puppet on Price’s string. It boiled you to the core, filled you with resentful distaste that you couldn’t quite swallow.

It was hard to accept that you hated him almost as much as you loved him.

No matter how angry you were at the world for the hand it was dealing you, you still couldn’t bring yourself to leave it. Not on your own. Even through the hole of emptiness that rattled you to the bone, a spark of hope shone from deep within you, and that was what kept you going. It was the faintest of light, fighting to stay ablaze. No matter how puny and weak it was, it was still there, cheering you on in a gentle voice to keep going.

As much as you didn’t want to listen, you did.

Life’s a bitch and then you die. But maybe if you gave it one final chance at redemption, things may work out in your favor this time. And if they didn’t? The original plan was always in the cards.

Simon left Price in the dust the moment he uttered those words. Go and get your bird back, Simon.

He had never heard something so beautiful, so breathtaking. It was his call back home, and he’d be an absolute tool if he didn’t rush to return to its welcoming arms.

He didn’t care how ridiculous he looked running along the streets in the middle of the night. Hell, he didn’t even bother to put his mask on. Tonight, he was Simon, and he was wearing his identity with pride. Ghost was tucked away in the darkest depths of his mind, caged in and hidden. With you, he didn’t want to be Ghost. He didn’t want to be a man who thrived off of the stolen lives of the innocent in order to pay his bills. He didn’t want to be the broken version of himself that imprisoned his own vulnerability.

He wanted to be the man who could give you a colorful life filled with painted sunsets and warm rays. Only Simon could do that, and he’d throw Ghost away if that was what it took.

The closer Simon got to your apartment, the more the nerves wracked his body with a faint tremor. Would you even speak to him? Forgive him? He knew he didn’t deserve it. Hell, he deserved a cold fist to the jaw and a stab wound to the heart.

The least he could do was try.

He pondered if he should get you something. Flowers, maybe, but when it came down to it, flowers were a pathetic excuse for an apology. No, Simon wanted to do this right. He had spent his entire life partaking in wrongdoings. For once, just once, he wanted to be good.

The sight of your building nearly had him throwing up on the concrete beneath his boots. It turned his stomach in a sickeningly sweet way, coating his tongue with bitter cottonmouth. For the first time since he could remember, Simon was scared. Downright terrified.

While the feeling should be seen in a negative light, he saw it as the complete opposite. It meant he was alive. He was still human. He still harbored emotions that Ghost had so desperately tried to get rid of.

Even after everything, he was still Simon.

His feet grew heavier and heavier with every step he took into your building, up the raggedy stairs, and down the dim hall, just like the routine he had always fallen into when waiting for you to return from work. Things may be different now, and he may be venturing on the same path with a different ending this time, but that didn’t mean he was led astray. Different could mean better, and he could only pray to the very God putting him through hell that his outcome would be brighter than before.

Simon didn’t know how long he stood outside of your door. He willed himself to knock, but he was struggling internally. The truth was, he was scared to see you. Seeing you meant facing the result of his regretful actions, and he wasn’t sure he could handle recognizing you as broken because of him.

He dug this grave, he wallowed in it, and now it was time to crawl his way out and make things right.

His fist shook as he raised it to knock on the door. Knuckles collided with the old wood, echoing sharply in his ears. Anxiety crept into his bones, leaving him in an uncomfortable suffocation. He felt as if he wouldn’t be able to breathe until you were in front of him. The room felt small, it was closing in on him. He wondered if this was a bad idea. Maybe he should’ve just left you alone, maybe he should’ve kept you out of his mess–

“Simon?”

The air that was tightening in his lungs exhaled in a slow, trembling breath, shoulders going slack from their tightly wound stiffness. Your voice was his oxygen, and he could finally breathe again.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, and God, did it feel jubilating to say that name again.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, and the bitterness in your tone was clear. It sunk into him like a thousand knives, coursing him with relentless pain.

“I need to fix this,” he gasped out. “Please, sweetheart, let me fix this. I know I fucked up, alright? I fucked up bad.”

You stared at him in disdain, but Simon could see the glimmer of a burning ache in your eyes that matched his own. You missed him just as much as he missed you, but your hurt overruled everything else. He didn’t blame you one bit.

“You left me after you had sex with me, Simon,” you spat with dripping fire that scorched him with every word. “You left me after everything. You expect me to just let you come here and tell me you fucked up, as if I didn’t know that?”

Simon could feel his resolve slipping away. He wanted to panic, to spit out useless apologies until one of them worked and you caved, but that wasn’t how this was going to go. Simon would have to work for it, and he’d be damned if he let you slip away. He’d spend the rest of his life working for it if it meant having you in the end.

“Sweetheart–”

“Fucking– I’m not doing this in my doorway. Just… just come inside,” you sighed out, utterly defeated. You didn’t have to tell Simon twice. He stepped into your apartment cautiously, letting you know that you were in complete control. You were in charge, and Simon was here to take the beatdown, no matter how painful it may be.

Upon entering, your apartment was in havoc. It wasn’t dirty, it wasn’t disgusting or revolting, but it was clear you spent most of your days cooped up in your room. Simon felt guilt eat away at him from the mere sight alone.

“Tell me how I can fix this,” Simon pleaded. Everything about his body language was desperate, distressed. His hands spoke for him, moving animatedly, unable to control himself. He was begging. For the first time in his life, he was begging.

“I’m not telling you how to fix anything, Simon. You’re the one supposed to fix it on your own. I’m not going to do it for you,” you explained in eerie calmness, but it was unmistakingly exhaustion. He couldn’t imagine how much he had put you through.

He knew you were right. This was Simon’s responsibility, and begging you for the cure would be easy on him and harder for you. He couldn’t allow that to happen. You’d already been burdened enough.

Simon stared at you, eyes glossed over, eyebrows pulled together from his stir of emotions. The way you stared back was empty, and it broke his heart that he was the reason for the light going out so soon after gaining it back.

He contemplated what to do. There were many ways this could go sideways, and he couldn’t risk that. He had to pick what was right in his heart, even if it meant shoving away the pride he’d grown accustomed to over the years of being alone and hollow.

Simon slowly got down on his knees, hands clasped in his lap, and he gazed up at you in woe. He was baring himself to you completely, stripping himself of all defenses, and succumbing to vulnerability. Never had Simon gotten on his knees for another person. His ego was too large, and he refused to let himself express weakness.

For you, he’d hang himself dry.

“What are you–”

“Please, sweetheart,” he whispered, voice soft yet broken, brimming with anguish. “I hurt you, and I hate myself for it. Nothin’ I say will make it better. I can’t change it, no matter how much I wish I could. I fucked up, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness for leavin’ you the way I did, for hurtin’ you like everybody else has done. I gave you an empty promise, and even then, I broke it.”

You were speechless from where you stood, peering down at this burly man on his knees for you. Your eyes never strayed away from his, and you recognized the familiar spark of despair in them. They looked just like yours every time you looked in the reflection. He was a mirror of you, just as you were a mirror of him.

“I was scared of losin’ you because of my job. I didn’t think a sweet thing like you deserved to be involved with a man like me. I didn’t want you hurt,” he explained, and the faintest crack in his voice showed you just how hard this was for him as well. You weren’t the only one suffering the consequences.

“Yet you hurt me anyway,” you whispered brokenly, and Simon deflated.

“I know,” he breathed, shaking his head. “I know, sweetheart. I let my fear control me, and it caused me to make things worse. It wasn’t fair t’you. I fucked up, and I’m so sorry.”

Your own resolve was faltering. You wanted so badly to be angry, to kick him out and be done with him. Strip him from your life and return to your days of wallowing in loneliness and misery.

You couldn’t. Every word was like a small bandaid over a too-big wound, but it was an attempt. He was trying. Nobody had ever tried with you before.

“Y’know,” you began, voice as soft as a whisper. “One of your boys came by to see me. Price.”

Simon blinked, surprise morphing on to his face. He swallowed anxiously, fists squeezing in his lap before he forced them to relax.

“And?”

You stared at him for a moment, shifting through your words in your mind.

“He tried to get me to cut you off. Tell you that I was better off, that I didn’t want you around anymore. He thought it would be best,” you finished quietly, shifting your eyes away from him in a moment of guilt. You weren’t sure why you were feeling it, but you’d recognize that uncomfortable lump in your throat anywhere. “I told him no.”

Simon’s eyebrows raised, eyes darting over your face to read your expression. “You did?”

“Yeah,” you confessed, shifting uncomfortably. “Told him… told him you didn’t deserve that.”

His heart ached painfully in his chest. What a lovely woman you were, defending him even after he had wronged you. How stupid he was for letting his own past misfortunes creep into the present.

He should be mad at Price for invading in on his personal business, but if he didn’t, Simon might not be here right now, kneeling before you and pleading for forgiveness. Price gave him an in, he gave him a chance, even if he went behind his back to do so.

Go and get your bird back, Simon.

It made sense now. Simon nearly laughed in bitter humor.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he murmured gently, finally gaining your gaze back. Your eyes had softened from their hardened walls you built back up again, and he prayed he had a chance. “I know it’s not goin’ to fix anythin’. You’re still angry with me, and you have every right t’be. But if you still decide to throw me out, to never speak t’me again, then I want you t’know that I love you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, chest pulling tight. A mixture of pain and relief coursed through your veins, and you weren’t sure which emotion to listen to. You weren’t sure what was right, but there was one thing you were sure of, and it was that you loved him, too. Heartbreakingly so.

“You do?” you whispered in uncertainty.

Simon rose from his kneeled position, taking a cautious step towards you. When you didn’t back away, he seized the opportunity to cradle your hands in his, holding them to his heart. “I do,” he repeated softly. “I’m not good at this, sweetheart. I’ve done a lot of terrible things. I’ve hurt people, I’ve killed people, yet loving somebody has always been the hardest thing to do. With you, it feels easy.”

You stared up at him, searching for any signs of dishonesty. What stared back at you was pure truth, his eyes flooding with a new light that promised love and confidence.

Taking a deep breath and a leap of faith, you responded, “I love you, too. Even though I should hate you.”

For the first time since seeing him, Simon smiled. It was a boyish smile, one you’d never seen before, and it lit your entire world up. The sun was back out, the flowers were blooming, birds were chirping, and nature was at peace. It tugged on your heartstrings and pulled away all of the hurt that had resided inside.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked. It brought you back to the first time the two of you shared a kiss, and the memory was fond. Despite all of the troubles and heartache, Simon was true to his word. Even if the world had failed the two of you, now was the time to change life’s course and rewrite your own future.

“Yes,” you sighed breathlessly.

Simon’s kiss was as familiar as before, but this time, it felt much more intimate. It was burning passion simmered down to tenderness, his hands cradling your face with the utmost care, treating you like frail china. He didn’t push or prod and instead moved with you rather than take control, letting you handle the reins this time.

It was a slow dance rather than a waltz, steady and unceasing.

“We’ll figure this out together, yeah?” he breathed against your lips, and you could feel the curl of his smile. You opened your eyes to peer into his own, unable to contain your own smile.

His lips returned to yours, and you melted into him. All that weight had been lifted so easily. All the rage had dissipated into nothing, being replaced with a warm, glowing light that filled your chest and threatened to burst.

This was all you wanted – to be content. To be happy.

You didn’t want to spend your days, awaiting an early death that would never come, nor did you want to waste it being burdened by the past that haunted you like a demonic spirit. This felt right.

When more and more feeling poured into the kiss, it shifted into something more starved, like two lovers who’d been separated for years. While you were falling into it, Simon was reluctant. Pulling away from you, you had a brief moment of uncertainty before he spoke.

“I don’t want to rush you like I did last time,” he explained gently. “The last thing I want is for you t’feel pressured. I’m not here for only that. M’here to fix this.”

“Simon,” you murmured, a warm smile on your face. “I know you aren’t. I want to do it. Is that okay?”

Simon stared at you for a moment, weighing out his options. While having sex was part of the reason the two of you ended up in this mess, it was the part after that really played a role. This time, things would be different.

“‘Course that’s okay, sweetheart,” he assured, returning your smile.

He was careful in guiding you to your room. While anxiety weighed heavy on his mind in messing things up further, he was determined to ensure that wouldn’t happen. The power was in his hands, and he’d use all of it in order to make you feel the love you deserve to feel.

Peeling off your clothes was a slow task. He took his time, reveling in the warmth of your skin, guiding his hands across every inch of flesh. He was worshiping you, showering you in praise and care. Sweet and reverent.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured affectionately, lips pressing to your cheek, then jaw, then down your neck. You were laid out for him on the bed, looking like a goddess bathed in light. “Don’t know what I did t’deserve you.”

“Simon,” you whispered, feeling tears spring in your eyes. Noticing, he lifted himself up, brushing the pad of his thumb softly over your cheek, swiping away the stray tear. He smiled down at you, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

He didn’t leave you waiting, but he certainly didn’t rush either. He worked diligently in stretching you open on his fingers, curling into that familiar spot that had your breath catching and your back arching beautifully. Your moans were spoken sonnets that blessed his ears, and he wanted nothing more than to hear them for the rest of his life.

Simon didn’t stop his notions, working you open until you were a squirming, crying mess, kissing away your tears while drowning in bashfulness at the sight of your pleasure. You deserved to feel good, and he’d die making sure of it.

When he lined himself up with you and slowly pressed his cock inside until he was at the hilt, buried in your moist warmth, he let out a blissful sigh, knocking his forehead against yours. He didn’t tear his eyes off of you, watching every flicker of euphoria that flashed in your eyes when he moved his hips. Unlike last time, his pace was slow yet firm, allowing you to bask in the delicious feeling of his cock pressing against the gummy walls of your cervix with every thrust.

“I love you,” he breathed through a sigh, brushing away a strand of hair that stuck in a sweaty mess to your forehead. “Most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. M’so lucky.”

You whimpered as he showered you in praise, wiggling from under him. The pleasure mixed with brimming love had you close to orgasm, clenching around him in a vice. He panted with you, breath fanning your face, only getting cut off when he’d lean down to kiss you.

It was a wonderful display of intimacy. This wasn’t just sex. He wasn’t ruining you, he wasn’t leaving you broken. He was leaving you overflowing with promises that he had every intention of keeping.

Simon swallowed up your moans with lips pressed to yours, fucking you through your orgasm, whispering sweet encouragements. He filled you, sealing those promises, his spend mixing with yours and bringing the two of you together as one.

Breathless and spent, Simon tangled you in his arms and legs, holding you close to his chest so he could feel your warmth against him. It brought him comfort and security, like a blanket being lovingly placed over him and consuming him in a snug embrace.

It was silent for a long time after, but neither of you minded it. You relished in the feeling of one another, and words weren’t needed.

“You’re not going to leave after I fall asleep, are you?” you whispered, breaking the silence with a brief moment of weakness. Simon shifted his head to look down at you, lifting a hand to cradle your head and card his fingers in your hair.

“No, sweetheart. I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he assured, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head. You nodded against him, snuggling closer to him, cheek pressed against his chest.

“You weren’t here to see me make it to two weeks,” you said softly. Though the reminder hurt to hear, you held no resentment in your tone, which gave him a sense of relief.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he apologized with a frown. When you peeked your head up to look at him, his eyes softened. It was like looking at the most beautiful thing crafted on this planet, and he had the absolute honor of calling it his.

“Maybe we can have a do-over,” you suggested, smiling cheekily at him. It enticed a laugh on his end, rumbling from his chest.

“How about instead of puttin’ a deadline on it this time, we keep count of the days that you wake up and accomplish seeing all the tomorrows. Deal?”

Your smile widened, and you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “It’s a deal.”

IT'S OFFICIALLY OVER!!!! I am so sad because I had such an amazing time writing this fic and it will truly always be one of my favorites. so many of you enjoyed it and supported me through it, and I cannot thank you enough for all the love you've given me :,) I sincerely hope this ending is what everybody wanted and more. I love you all <3

[buckyalpine]

Impure

18+

This is so dark and fucked up and I should be doused in holy water because of this but imagine Step dad Bucky lusting after you and how fucking innocent you are. That pretty little silver ring on your finger is practically begging for him to ruin you. 

“You’re a good girl” He states, struggling to keep his voice neutral, the hint of a growl lingering in his tone as he takes your hand, nodding to the purity ring sitting on your finger. 

You nod, keeping your eyes away from his, trying to ignore the way your stomach churns, your body feeling warm feeling his rough calloused hand. Something about the way he looks at you makes you feel dizzy and weak in the knees, his steel blue eyes looking into your soul. 

****

You know its wrong but you can’t stop yourself, the throbbing between your legs aching. You’d always managed to ignore the feeling before but tonight you can’t. You sigh in relief letting your fingers rub the ache away, your body feeling hot at the new feelings tingling through your body, gasping when you brush over your clit. You speed up your ministrations, whimpering as you feel a deep pressure building in your core, shame and lust clouding your mind because you’re thinking about him. 

Little do you know you’re driving insane because he can hear every moan and whine dripping from your lips as he passes your door, his cock leaking at the thought of an innocent thing like you pleasing herself. He thinking about your pretty little hand, that damn ring on your finger, it taunts him. 

“What are you doing princess” Bucky cracked your door open, cocking an eyebrow, his eyes trailing to where your hands are in your panties, wetness dampening your sheets. You squeaked, pulling your dress down, trying to cover yourself, but its too late, he’s already locked the door, stalking over to your bed like a predator that's caught his prey. 

“I-

“Shh, let daddy take care of you princess” He whispered, sitting on the edge of your bed, moving his hand up to stroke the soft skin of your inner thigh. You whimpered, squeezing your thighs together, your eyes growing wide when he takes your soaked fingers, sucking your arousal off. He moaned, greedily lapping his tongue on your finger tips, holding your hand in place after he pulls away with a pop. “Let daddy help with that little achy feeling” 

You can’t even get words out, letting him spread your legs and pull your panties off, your tummy fluttering hearing him undo the zip of his jeans. He pulls them off enough to get his cock out, too deep in wanting to ruin your virgin cunt to care about preparing you. He rubs the tip of his cock on you, smirking at the way you moan, pleasured sighs slipping past your lips. 

“We-we can’t” You manage to stutter out, but your legs are still wrapped around him, your desperate pussy screaming. 

“It’ll be our little secret” He whispers, toying with the ring as he pushes his cock into you, groaning at the way you cry out, the stretch burning and pulsing. 

“Let me in baby, let daddy help you” He grunted, forcing his cock in all the way into you, thrusting immediately, getting off on the way you cling onto him, begging for him to slow down. 

“You can take it you little slut, you’re not a good girl” He taunts, leaking into you, smirking against your skin when you whine in protest.  

“Look at you, taking your step dads cock like a whore. Spreading your legs like a slut, craving cock, you’re dripping making a mess” He gripped onto your hand, growling at the way the silver ring glinted under your bedroom light, “Such a cute little virgin, have you thought about cock before princess? You ever thought about how it’d feel, having a man tear your pussy apart, letting him shove his dick into all your tight little holes?” 

“N-No!” You shook your head desperately, you’d always pushed those thoughts away, refusing to give into sin, saving yourself for the right man. 

“Then tell me baby, who were you thinking of when you were playing with your princess parts” His eyes bore into you, challenging you as he sped up, pounding you into the mattress. 

You whined, biting your lip, not wanting to say anything, trying to hide your face from him, how could you tell him you were thinking about-

“Thinking about your step dads cock huh, is this how you wanted me to take care of you baby? This is what you needed, your slutty little pussy needed her daddy to make her cum?” His hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing the sides, forcing you to look at him. 

“You’re running around with this pretty little ring around as if you don’t think about my dick inside you? As if you’re not wetting your bed, rubbing yourself, trying to make yourself feel good but you can’t. You need my cock baby, you’re just a filthy cockhungry whore”

“M’not a whore” you whimper, a soft little pout on your lips making Bucky even more feral than before. He bit your bottom lip, tugging in between his teeth as he continued to slam in you, groaning at the way your eyes rolled back. 

“Shhh, take it baby, my dirty little girl, not so innocent, are you?” 

“I am” you sob out, clenching around his cock, your juices squirting out of you as you climbed higher and higher. Bucky could feel his balls throb, ready to bust in you, his cock throbbing at the vice grip you had on his length. 

“C’mon baby, you know you want to, you know it’s wrong huh? You know it’s bad, good girls don’t to that, good girls don’t think dirty thoughts” He taunted you further, a wicked grin curling on his lips at the way you fluttered at his words. “Good girls don’t spread their legs like this or play with their little pearls, you know that right baby? Good girls wait till marriage, but not you huh princess?” 

Your moans grew louder, throwing your head back as you felt the pressure build again, pleasure and tightness making your cunt throb around his cock. You bit down onto his shoulder making Bucky growl in pleasure, unable to hold off any longer. He started to jack hammer into you, warmth crawling from the base of his cock to the tip of his cock. 

“Cum, cum all over your step dad’s cock, get my dick wet you slut, give me your sweet cream baby- FUCK” Bucky roared against your skin, flooding your cunt with his cum, fucking it back into your sore pussy. He hissed as he pulled out, tucking his cock back into his pants, trying to ignore the way he wanted to take you apart again immediately after. 

You panted, fiddling with the ring on your finger, gasping when he grabbed your hand before you tried to slip it off. He pushed it back down, kissing your hand before coming down to brush his lips by your ear. 

“It’s our little secret, remember?” 

[devilmademewriteit]

Joel Miller & Javier Peña Headcanons (Drabbles?) Part 3!

another smutty edition<3

warnings: rough sex/smut (fingering, oral [both receiving], fem penetration, masturbation) so 18+ only content; afab fem reader; mentions of hair pulling; bratty!reader; violence (slapping, choking, threats); mentions of pornography; description of a panic attack; step-cest; pet names (baby, angel, sweetheart, darlin, hermosa, cariño) dubcon/non-con (age gap, power dynamics, coercion, just a bunch o’ shady shit in general imsosorry)

No use of y/n.

Hello! In honour of 2K followers (woot woot!!!) here is yet another work of absolute FILTH. These just get more and more insane idk what to do w myself. Your requests r gonna send me straight to hell. Anyways, I love u all so much. Don’t forget to join the taglist, you can find the other drabbles on my masterlist, & part 3 of Salvatore coming soon!

-em<3

—

Javi loves when you take charge—God, it just makes him laugh. He watches you, faithful that you’re in control while you ride him, fingers coiling weakly around his neck. “Gonna come for me, Peña?” He lets your imagination run wild until he grows impatient, sitting up to crush you between his arms, fucking up into you at his signature brutal pace. “Where’s all that tough talk now, hermosa?” He sounds so soft, so gentle compared to the thrust of his hips—snapping to bruise against the supple skin of your thighs. You never know how he manages to last so long, only that by the time his hot seed is leaking down between your legs, you’re barely conscious, barely human, and squirming away from those fingers—that cock—stealing non-stop orgasms from your core. He’s only satisfied once you’re reduced to his personal little plaything.

“Where you goin’, baby? I’m not fuckin’ done with you.”

Stepdad!Joel catching you and your boyfriend messing around in your bedroom; “Get out,” he growls, holding the door open as the young man scurries out, averting Miller’s violent gaze with his own downcast, darting eyes, hurriedly tucking himself back into his pants. Shame spreads like the wings of a Monarch across your heating cheeks. “Joel—I—” but he’s already too close, shaking his head in disappointment as he unhooks the buckle of his belt. “Didn’ think you were like that, baby…” and he’s pinning your shoulders down, covering your mouth with his calloused hand, muffling your protests to keep your little lesson private. “Pay attention, angel. F’you’re gonna act like a slut, you’re gonna get used like one, too.” Joel is huge, he stretches you far, far wider than your boyfriend ever could. When he bottoms out between your tight, silken walls, you can’t help your cry of surprise, of pain—of reluctant ecstasy. “Sshh, baby—don’t scream, don’t scream.”

“M’doin’ you a favour, see? Think you don’t fuckin’ deserve this?”

It had been ages since you’d last seen him. He’d gotten himself disciplinary leave—some shady business with an anti-Escobar group of vigilantes. But he’s back now (as your boss, no less) and so is that stupid-old-crush. And God, does he ever look good, sulking around in those navy fitted suits. Your heart had lurched when he’d recognized you—“Nice seeing a familiar face around here, ‘specially a pretty one like yours”—but working late tonight, finally on your way out the door, he commands it to a full stop when a worn-down, stressed-out Javier Peña calls you back into his office. “I-I don’t have a ride home, sir—I can’t miss the last bus,” as he dips down to brush kisses to the side of your throat, as his hands caress the valley of your waist, as he lifts you onto his desk, carelessly scattering confidential affidavits, narco-profiles, ball-point pens. “Oh, but you won’t last long, cariño—I promise,” and you believe him, because his thumb on that delicate, throbbing bud already beckons, pulls, drags you towards oblivion. Sooner or later, he would’ve had you like this—spread open on lacquered oak; thighs trembling in the cradle of his grip; fingers, helpless, tugging at his collar as his own curl inside you. You’re learning a new language: Javier’s native tongue.

“Not gonna say ‘no’ to your boss, now, are you, sweetheart?”

Slapping brat-tamer!Joel across the face after he spends hours teasing your dripping cunt; feeling him ripple with lust-soaked aggression when he finally pulls his damp cock from its drag-and-circle strokes against your clit. “Joel—fuck me, already,” and he claps the back of his hand across your cheekbone, yanks you down the mattress, settles himself to tower, cock in hand, right above your face. He wrenches your lips apart, slaps his length against your awaiting tongue—“Watch your mouth”—eyes alight with caution, irritation, warning. So, you respond, “Fuck you.” A big ol’ fist yanks you up by your hair—you know you’re being punished when he stuffs your filthy mouth oh-so-full with his length. “Yeah, fuck you too.” Every pained choke, the pressure of your hands pushing against the merciless, quick snaps of his thighs—it’s Joel Miller’s favourite kind of apology. He’s nonchalant, deceptively casual when he says it: “Nah, you don’t needa breathe—”

“—You’re gonna stop bein’ such a brat, or you’re gonna gag on an old man’s cock ‘til it fuckin’ kills y’a… whichever comes first, angel.”

On those rare nights he found himself alone, Javi liked to jack off, a glass of whiskey in his free hand. Sometimes with porn, most often without. When he did use the tapes, however, his go-to featured a dark haired man brutally fucking a girl into the dented pillows of a worn-in couch—God, she looked just like you. The real ‘you’ that was tough, incorruptible, a bit high-strung, and completely self-denying becomes a needy, cock-drunk mess at 6:12. Split wide open, taking it so rough, she whines, “You’re g’na m-make me come all—all over your c-cock.” If Javi doesn’t finish right then, he always does around the eleven minute mark, when her cheeks puff up around his fat tip, glassy eyes coming alive with that familiar, feminine devotion to male pleasure. When a forceful hand drags her lips down a long length of cock, that’s when Javi doesn’t stand a chance; he hangs off her every muffled, desperate word (and Christ, does her voice ever sound like yours): “Use me—please—use me, use me, use me.” In his twisted, sex-addled mind, he’s answering you, warm spend dripping onto thick, coiled fingers:

“I want to—fuck, wanna use every square inch of you, baby.”

The Jackson commune required all adults to take shifts patrolling the community; you’d been paired up with a far older, far more experienced, and far more… volatile partner. He rarely made conversation, but he got on with your dad, so it seemed like a good pairing, one that might teach you a thing or two—a rational decision. It wasn’t. Very quickly, you’d noticed his near tangible stares of hunger, the way his fingers clenched into white-knuckle-fists every time the weather warmed and your clothing got shorter—tighter. Soon, you’d made up your mind: you needed Joel. “Stop fuckin’ teasin’” he’d growled under the blood-orange glow of the southern sunset, grasping your flattened palm and moving it from its suggestive position on his chest, “M’not givin’ it to you.” Creeping in close, running your thumb across the sparse, silver-flecked hairs peppering his rigid jaw: “But I’ll be so good, Miller—I’ll listen, I can beg for it, too—please, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“S’exactly the problem, darlin’. Jus’ one touch n’ I’d have you doin the dirtiest things for me… Fuck, wouldn’t be able to look your old man in the eye for months.”

Bonus Fluff:

Thank God they’d managed to stop the outbreak. It had felt like the end, at first, with the government-mandated lockdowns, people hoarding toilet paper and Lysol, going stir-crazy behind closed doors. And thank God for your neighbour, Joel Miller, who’d become something like your rock throughout those terrifying weeks. He’d never been close with your emotionally distant parents (really, who was?) but you were friends with his daughter, so he’d always treated you like one of his own. Until one Friday night, when you’d fallen asleep watching TV with Sarah and woken up to the thrum of your heart pounding against your ribs, beige walls closing in tight, the beginnings of a panic attack cresting throughout your shaking body. “S’okay, s’okay,” and he’d been there, cradling you in those blue-collar arms, cooing wispy, gentle comforts into the crook of your neck. The memory was mostly haze—but you kept the ghostly caresses of his finger tips smoothing the tense muscles beneath your skin, the near-kisses he’d brushed to your forehead, throat, and cheeks, and especially his look of restraint as he’d replaced your restrictive clothes with his own oversized tee. The next morning, you’d come to in his bed, nose nestled into the crumpled folds of his black t-shirt. Heat blossomed across your cheeks as the sunrise brought realization’s dawn upon you. “You jus’ wouldn’ calm down—” Joel’s concern had overwhelmed his tone as his thumb traced the apex of your cheekbone.

“Jus’ couldn’t stand to see you so… upset, sweetheart. Holdin’ you’s the only thing that seemed to do you any good.”

It took months of dating before Javi had been willing to surrender any personal information, any vulnerable thoughts to you. Christ, just learning his father’s name had felt like cracking the Da Vinci code. Instead of talking, whenever he got sad, angry, or upset, he soothed himself by stripping you down, shoving you onto all fours or holding your mouth open between his thumb and index—either one worked just as well. Somewhere down the line, you’d learnt that splitting you open left him more inclined to open up, himself. “Why is it always rough when you’re… unhappy?” It’s a timid question, posed with your cheek laid against his shoulder. First, he asks if you really want to hear the answer. Then, he responds with his eyes closed, shy strokes up and down the length of your spine. “Guess I like the control—feel so fuckin’ out of it when shit gets to me.” You go silent, startled by his honesty. “Does it bother you?” and he sounds nervous, concerned. “No,” you say passionately, ardently. “I like knowing I can help.” Smooth and quick, Javi cups your cheeks, pulling you up to straddle him and laying a fierce kiss at the altar of your swollen lips.

“You single-handedly brought me back to life, baby. Got no fuckin’ clue how much you do for me, every damn day.”

—

TAGLIST: @millllenniawrites @pining-and-tired @inkedells @stardust-chords-enthusiast @mattmurdocksgirlfriend @bookofbee @liviloo12346 @anyas-stuff @readingsunshine97 @maudlinflowers @sullysflm @sexygaypalpatine @livyjh @s-unflowxr @lostsoldieronahill @chapterhappygirl @raeluvshammett @silkiers @jupitersmoon-cal @supernaturaldean67 @razrsharpwhiteteeth @peqchsoup @corrodedcherries @hawsx3 @monboudoir @theonewithacrush @pono-pura-vida @sallymilkweed @fruitcupsworld @mads-grace4 @ayehomo

(The rest of the tags will be in a reblog—I don’t want this post to crash b/c of the amount of tags lol).

[toruro]

Girl dilf mingyu with spit kink plsssss !!!!

tags. smut (18+), dilf!mingyu, age gap BUT reader is a legally consenting adult, spit kink obviously, slight degradation kink

you shouldn't be doing this. like seriously. you really should not be doing this.

you don't know how you ended up here, skirt flipped up and panties pooling at your feet while your friend's hot dad rubs figure eights up and down your dripping cunt.

"what would jungho say if he saw this, hm?" mingyu mutters, watching the way your cunt flutters around him, begging to be fucked.

you're leaning over the kitchen counter, fingers grappling at the cool granite trying to find something—anything—to ground yourself. you don't even think about the way he mention's your friend's name—jungho left for groceries a while ago, leaving you and his insanely hot dad alone. safe to say that mingyu had noticed your sparring glances, and you had noticed his.

"m-mr. kim—fuck—," you whine, when he finally pushes two fingers into your gaping core.

the large man behind you brings his face close to your pussy, inhaling deeply before chuckling. "so fuckin' cute. calling me mr. kim like you're a good girl."

"'m a g-good girl," you protest, chewing on your lip to stop yourself from moaning too loudly. the last thing you want is for jungho to walk up to his house to hear you, his sweet friend and study partner, getting the living daylights finger fucked out of her by his dad.

"i don't think so princess," mingyu murmurs, continuing to ram his fingers in 'n' out of you ruthlessly. "watching me, starin'—you think i was too dumb to notice?"

"no—no," you gasp out, trying to sound firm, but it's growing harder and harder with the way he's picking up his pace.

"yeah you were," mingyu chuckles, and then he stills his hands. you're about to whine again, complain, cry for more, but then you hear him puff up his cheeks and then something cool and wet lands on your cunt.

the second you release it's mingyu's spit, you swivel your hips back and cry out his name, body aching for more. "want it, need it more, mr. kim—mingyu!"

"ha," mingyu breaths out, teasing a wet finger at your core. "you fuckin' liked that huh?" and when you nod along dumbly, mingyu feels his pants can't be any tighter. "fuck, the things i am going to do to you—"

[thechaoticplayer]

Can I request hex haywire with a stressed s/o and going down on them?

author's note:

TEEHEHEHEHEHEHE (I wrote this around 3 am i apologize if it's super wack)

Summary: You're super stressed! Hex wonderful bf he is) by offering some sort of relief!

Contains: established relationship, nsfw content, Hex going down on ya, ugh this man makes me go nuts, gn! Reader with female attributes NONE OF MY WORKS ARE PROOFREAD

"What's wrong darling? you seemed stressed," HEX HAYWIRE asks as you snuggle against him with a pathetic groan. He immediately goes to massaging your thighs, eyes intent on you.

"Kind of," you admit, rubbing your eyes. "I just have so much on my plate right now, it's ridiculous. My boss thinks I'm some sort of superhuman doing all the work while my colleagues do shit, my clothes aren't done from the cleaners, I'm in charge of my cousin's birthday party- it's just so much."

You melt into his chest, closing your eyes as Hex massages your legs. He hums in understanding, giving your forehead a peck. "That does sound like a lot of work. An unreasonable amount of work. Overworking yourself isn't ideal, you know."

"I know, I've been trying but..." you trail off, your mouth slanting into your cheek. "Life said 'fuck you' and I'm just taking it at this point."

Hex goes silent for a moment, watching you over the brim of his glasses. He could feel the tension in your body, and the stress was really eating at you.

"My love, I just wanted to tell you how much I'm proud of you. Look at you, taking it like a champ," Hex says with a chuckle, and you open your eyes to give him a mean glare at the underlying meaning. "How about I relax you for a bit?"

"And how would you do that?"

Your boyfriend pulls away from you entirely, and you almost protested. You realize, as he sits himself down in front of you, in between your legs as you sit still on the couch, that he wasn't leaving. A light kiss against the side of your knee already sends butterflies up into your stomach.

"By pleasuring you. How does that sound?" Hex asks, voice velvety and seductive. The effects this man had on you was insane. Just him looking up at you with such a filthy look in his eyes with a mixture of love and need to help you, made you nearly run your thighs together for friction.

"That..." you inhale. "Doesn't sound too bad at all."

"Good good..." Taking each thigh with his large hands (his palms and fingers practically wrapped arond your whole thigh, and still touched! Insanity!), he gently pulls your legs apart to deliver kisses all across your thighs. You smile a bit.

But once you felt his hot breaths pan your clothed core, need suddenly made itself known to you. Your breath hitches as Hex pauses, tilting his head to the side as he gazes up at you.

"What do you want, baby?"

"I want you," you breathe, biting your lip just a tad. You squirm in your seat, the heat between your legs almost too much.

"Where do you want me, baby? I know you're a smart one and know how to use your words," Hex cooes, breaths ghosting over you but moving away to plant another kiss on your inner thigh.

"I want you t-there," you reply with sudden shyness, pointing to your sex.

He grins, a mischievous little smile, and he begins to tug off your pants and underwear. Throwing your legs over his broad shoulders, spreading you apart for him. It was getting really hard to keep your breaths normal, especially when he was so close to where you needed him most.

He licks a long stripe up your sex, making you give out a breathy moan. You angle your head back, eyelids fluttering as Hex continued his slow laps at your core. His tongue teases at your entrance, gliding over it and never sliding fully in. His teeth graze your clit, making you jolt and whimper.

Finally, he just takes you all in his mouth, opening wide and lapping at your sensitiveness. You instantly tug at his hair, pressing him further into you. A groan causes electricity to shoot up your spine and you moan, one hand digging into the mattress.

Your boyfriend sucks on the sensitive spot, assaulting it with all he has. Licking and sucking quickly, the orgasm speedily approaching at such a high speed, your vision turned white for a time. Slurping up your juices into his mouth, he was eating like a man starved, panting and growling low in his throat like a animal.

"H-Hex! Imma-" you choke on your words as your boyfriend sucks on that spot again.

"Cum, come on baby, cum for me, you're doing so well," he pants against you, never stopping his assault. "Doing such a good time, 'm so proud of you."

The muscles in your stomach clench as your orgasm begins to take over. You let out a high moan, releasing all over his face hard. Hex just laps it all up, licking you clean with such gentleness. You heave for breath, vision hazy as you watch Hex lick his lips.

"How do you feel now?" Another kiss to your thigh as he helps you set down from your high.

"...good. really good. Thank you Hexy," you whisper, beckoning him close to give him a loving kiss. "You're the best boyfriend ever."

He blushes slightly at this, and you fix his lop sided glasses. "Anything for you, my love."

[restwellsoon]

NSFW Sex ABCs | Uramichi Omota

Minor, blank, and ageless blogs DNI! You will be blocked!

Uramichi Omota x GN!Reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Uramichi is clingy after sex, wanting to cuddle and kiss immediately after, despite your protests to clean up first. He even tells you that he doesn’t mind it when your skin sticks together from the sweat drying, despite him rubbing at his reddened skin after pulling apart.

He gets quite sentimental, and this side of him takes getting used to. Uramichi’s normally a neat guy, but he loves to admire how he’s made a mess out of you. The way your hair sticks to sweaty skin, swollen lips, that dazed expression on your face. He’s always afraid of this moment being the last, so you can help but oblige him when he quietly asks you to stay in his arms for a while.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Uramichi is surprisingly body neutral. Because of his former career in athletics, he’s more focused on his body’s ability to perform rather than its aesthetics. Needless to say, he’s incredibly proud of his strong core, the defining marker of a gymnast. He’s also pleased with the symmetry and size of his upper body in general–from his chest, his arms, back, and core–regardless of the comments others make about him being a gym rat. Having a strong upper body and core also allows him to fuck in positions that other men can’t, something he’s secretly smug about.

And in contrast, Uramichi loves all of your softest and squishiest bits, whatever they may be. It gives him a very cozy feeling, and he often loves nuzzling his face on that body part or grabbing it with his hands. You have a strong reason to suspect that he enjoys those parts because it subconsciously reminds him of using hand grips. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

The moment you tell him that he’s allowed to cum inside you, he decides then and there that a drop won’t be wasted. He has zero desire to cum on your face or any other part of your body. Uramichi wants your pretty little holes filled with his cum. He’s quite the vanilla man, but it’s a (sexy) surprise to find out that he really loves the thought of plugging your cum-filled holes after fucking you for multiple rounds.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

The quickest way to get him hard is domesticity. He fantasizes about coming home to you and cumming in you, bathing together, sleeping together, and stealing kisses while prepping food. He likes to think of your voice when you wake up or the way you snap when he annoys you too much. The vulnerability and intimacy you’d share together is his go-to when he wants a very satisfying orgasm.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Luckily for Uramichi, his mind-body connection is strong. Yeah, he might go through insane years-long dry spells, but it doesn’t mean that he’s forgotten how to sexually please a partner at all. He doesn’t have much experience, but he does know how to get the job done. He’s also very studious and isn’t afraid to ask you for help and tips to make you cum.

He watches porn for research purposes.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Deep missionary. Uramichi not only loves how it feels, but he loves how it makes him feel so incredibly close to you too. He loves looking at the different expressions that you make while he makes you feel good, and knowing he’s the only one that makes you feel like that way.

Also for completely unsexy reasons, he likes that deep missionary gives him access to all your erogenous zones without straining his body or having to switch positions. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Even when he’s goofy, Uramichi seems serious. His playful side often unintentionally makes him seem like a dom. Really though, he’s trying to be funny. You don’t mind the intensity though.

If you go back and watch the highlight reels of his gymnast career, you’d see that his sex aura and competition aura are nearly identical.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Uramichi’s used to shaving everything because of his career as a gymnast. Even though his happy trail is usually shaved, he does like to keep his pubes trimmed neatly.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He doesn’t even realize how romantic he’s being in the moment. He just loves kissing your neck softly and calling out your name. He firmly believes in physically showing you how you make him feel, so he gives it his all to make you feel good.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He goes through cycles where he’s incredibly horny and jerkin’ it nonstop to dry spells where he hasn’t touched himself in months. His cock is pretty sensitive so he cums easily.

Because he has a vivid imagination (He’s not sure if he should thank his anxiety for that or not), he usually doesn’t need erotic audio or visual materials.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He didn’t even know that it was a thing, but Uramichi finds out later in life that he has a scent kink. The scent of your shampoo on his pillows or your perfume on his sheets drives him wild. And the way you smell down at your center? He salivates just thinking about it.

It takes him a while to open up about it, but he has a breeding kink and goes wild when you call him daddy. Yeah, maybe it has something to do with his fucked up childhood, but the thought of having a family with you, taking care of you, and (as fucked up as it may seem) having a lifelong connection with you, drives him absolutely wild. He’s embarrassed to admit this to you–and he doesn’t want to seem insane either–but after growing closer, you find it incredibly sweet. You don’t mind indulging this kink of his.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Maybe if he spent his 20s fucking instead of destroying his body and mental fortitude through gymnastics, he’d be more adventurous. But alas, he’s now in his 30s and there’s no place more exciting to him than his bed.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

It’s probably pathetic, but just showing interest in him fills him up with excitement. He wants to be seen as Uramichi, not the gymnast, not the taiso no oniisan, and definitely not by his surname. He really likes it when his crush (you, duh) calls him by his nickname.

Also scalp massages. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

For the love of god or whatever the fuck is out there, do not ask him to dress up for you. It gives him such a visceral reaction and reminds him of work that it kills his mood completely. 

You’d think that having a horrible father would make him have some needs for validation and praise, but surprisingly, Uramichi doesn’t have a praise kink at all. Because he’s been exceptional from a young age, he’s used to being praised but secretly badmouthed behind his back, so praise doesn’t do it for him when it comes to his performance. Instead, it’s more meaningful when you show him how good he’s making you feel (by cumming all over his cock).

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Of course Uramichi loves it whenever you go down on him. He loves hearing you gag and gasp around his cock, and he loves to relax by fucking your mouth gently, his fingers wrapped in your hair.

Uramichi never considered quitting smoking until he finally went down on you. His skills are sloppy but with good intention at first, and though he’s embarrassed by your prompting, he’s more than willing to follow through with your instructions. He loves going down on you and says that it helps with his oral fixation.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He loves starting off slow and sensual, trying to make each session last as long as possible. It’s a challenge though–because you feel so good–that he often ends up desperately fucking into you until he’s a mess.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Although Uramichi likes to go at his own pace, he doesn’t mind having a quickie every once in a while. Although he knows you’ll make him cum every time, he secretly stresses about you not being satisfied. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As someone who’s known for a lack of preference, experimenting is no different. He says that he’ll always try something once as long as it’s with you. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He has great stamina and recovery time. Unfortunately though, since he wasn’t having sex often before you two got together, he doesn’t last long the first few encounters. Rather than being annoyed though, you take it as a compliment for being that good. (Uramichi later tells you that this was one of the moments that made him love you.)

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

You’re surprised to learn that Uramichi owns a cocksleeve, and it’s a source of embarrassment when you come across it in his apartment one day. He fervently denies buying it himself and says that it was a gag gift from Kumatani and Usahara. (Let’s be real, it was mostly Usahara’s idea though Kumatani thought that a sex toy would definitely help Uramichi lighten up.) Gag gift or not, you save Uramichi some embarrassment by not commenting on how well-loved it looks.

He’s intimidated by your toys at first, but eventually warms up to their usefulness, asking you to show him how you use them. Every once in a while, he’ll use them on you while you fuck.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He hates being teased and lacks the patience for it. But this man is constantly teasing you without even realizing it. Like I said, he thinks he’s being funny with some of his sexual comments or jokes, but really he sounds like a full-fledged dom ready to force you into submission if he has to. He really likes that needy side of you because it makes him feel wanted.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Uramichi’s relatively quiet in other settings, so you’re surprised to hear his soft moans and grunting when you fuck. Those rare times where he has a clear mind while having sex, he loves to praise you and to be praised.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

With stamina and strong forearms like Uramichi’s, this man is a fingerfucking king. Once he finds those sweet spots that make you squirm, he’ll attack them relentlessly, curling his fingers and going at a pace that seems nearly impossible. He loves licking his fingers after you cum or making you taste yourself. When he’s feeling naughty, he likes to finger you after he’s cum inside, using it as lube.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s longer than average but quite thick. Again, he’s quite neutral about his body, so he doesn’t understand why others think he’s impressive. He gets off on your reaction to seeing his cock for the first time though, the way your mouth hangs slightly agape and your eyes widen.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I don’t think he has a high sex drive at first since he’s been alone for so long and stays away from random hook-ups. Being with you sends his sex drive through the roof, however, and even he’s surprised with his sexual appetite.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He has all this pent up tension and stress that he never knew that fucking could get rid of. After a good cuddle sesh, he falls asleep quickly and feels well-rested after.

Thanks to the @/the-coldest-goodbye for sharing this prompt.) 

Also it's inevitable that I give every fictional man that I love a daddy and breeding kink. Sorry not sorry.

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The Main Masterlist

Life Lessons Masterlist

AO3

[86-babyy]

Cherry stems and Strawberries.

Summary; When your brothers best friend takes you by surprise after a interesting movie night. Eddie!Femreader.

Warnings; Slight Dom Eddie, teasing, fingering, dirty talk, masturbation (F), blow job, eating out (😉), PIV unprotected. Just a whole lot of smut.

1:05

That’s what the clock read when the sudden chaos erupted from downstairs, the gleaming red numbers bearing back at you through blurred vision, your body automatically sprinting to action before your mind could catch up.

Instincts had you reaching for the nearest implement, which happened to be a baton from your younger days of gymnastics— Still piled beside your bookcase. Oh well, it’ll have to do.

You could hear the muffled noise of a conversation as you neared the top of the staircase, the descending steps seemingly impossible when you hear another thud. One foot in front of the other you power down the stairs, arms failing mercilessly in the shadows— Cries echo around you as you swing in to the figure.

“You got a nerve, who do you think you are? You’re fucked.”

“Ouch, come on, fuck!”

“You think because I’m girl, huh. You’re so wrong.”

“Jesus, Y/N, ouch.. Stop!”

The husky voice broke through the noise, bouncing off the walls as you realised who it was, dread tore through your core as you uttered apologies over and over, the baton slips from your palm— Clinking as it collides with the tile and rolls away. Reaching out front in attempt to sooth your brother.

“Steve, fuck, I’m so sorry.”

You reach his shoulders, feeling out his frame, still in darkness, for any signs of distress— No blood.

You sigh heavily, your whole body tense as Steve groans still placed on his knees, one arm slung around his middle, white light suddenly surrounded around you bathing the whole place in a ember glow before you realised someone had turned on the lights.

“Shit, Steve. You didn’t tell me your sister had a swing on her.”

There’s a underlying laugh to his tone, clearly hiding his amusement from Steve who just shot him a glare beneath you.

He’s standing beside the knocked over coat hook, bags and jackets strung across the floor, evidence of the noise that had you jumping out of your skin in the first place. He’s tall, that’s the first thing you noticed. Broad as he stood arms crossed against his chest, rings of chestnut adorning his shoulders along with a wicked grin.

“She usually doesn’t.”

It comes bitter and you wince slightly as Steve manoeuvres his way to his feet, still gripping at his side.

“What are you even doing? Do you know what time it is.”

“Since when do you care?”

Steve winces as he talks, steadies himself against the arm of the lounge.

“I don’t but when you come parading through like a damn banshee, it’s hard to miss.”

Eddie laughs, it’s slightly muffled by his hands as he curls the ends of his hair in front of his mouth, it’s kind of cute. Steve groans, flips Eddie his middle finger in response.

“Blame him for that. Fucker, can’t stay on his feet.”

Eddie flays his arms in protest, looking offended all while biting his bottom lip between his teeth, clearly trying to keep his composure.

“It was dark, man. And who keeps a rack so close to the door.”

It was at this time it was evident they had been drinking, Eddie more so than Steve, apparently. You bring yourself to stand, you walk towards Steve, wrapping yourself around him.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s muffled into his hair and Steve squeezes your arm softly in response. It had been rough on you both with your parents constantly dipping in and out of your life, nothing ever feeling stable besides each other. It was insanely cruel to burden what your parents had on you and Steve, though it was like clockwork now, still— You hated how accustomed you both were to it all. Days melted into months and you both tried to live normally, settling into a routine.

“There’s lasagna in the fridge.”

Steve offers a gentle smile and a nod, you wave in Eddie’s direction and he smiles with an apologetic look in his gaze before you turn heel and head back to your bedroom.

~*~

Coffee.

It was your first thought when you dragged yourself from your bed, legs heavy as you heaved your body downstairs and into the kitchen. The glaring sun shot through and straight into your line of vision when you worked the coffee into your mug, it was oddly bright today, far to warm for this time of morning, you had thought.

The brown liquid brought a aroma that your sleepy subconscious craved, reaching into the fridge, you dodged the condiments until you had a grasp on the milk— Only briefly until you turned around and smacked into something that felt close to a brick wall.

“Shit..”

Your cheek collides harshly against Eddie’s chest, shirtless and bare, you are to quick to notice. He catches you by the waist, tight fingers hold your weight as you steady your feet.

“Sorry, smelt coffee.”

He gives a lop sided grin, half sleep, half curious as he slips from the embrace, hands hovering to make sure you had your footing.

You completely malfunction. Eddie’s sparse chest is inches from your face, skin littered in tattoos, the ink decorated his chest and arms and you can barely move, you babble something incoherent, stupid move. But you’re stumped, like something had reared your feet completely to the ground, your bones suddenly feeling like stone as you take in the definition of his arms, every curve, bump of muscle and the display of light hair trailing below his belly button— It was embarrassingly mesmerising.

“You good?”

Eddie dips his head, vision searching yours in concern but it’s playful, those doe eyes of honey brown taunt you just as much as the sly curl of his lips— He’s not stupid. He knows exactly what’s going on.

“Uh, shit, yeah. Sorry..”

You stumble slightly, pulling yourself away but you notice the subtle graze of his fingertips brush your hip when you turn, reaching for the discarded milk that had fell from your grasp. You made your way to the counter, following your coffee with the milk.

“How do you like it?”

“Strong. I like to taste it.”

It’s openly suggestive and it makes you tense your thighs momentarily, your hands gripping the kettle a little to tightly— Thankful for the position you were in, face turned away, even though you could feel the heat spread across your neck.

You can hear the clutter behind you, plates clinking and the fridge door opening and closing, you tried not to look, curiosity growing to strong as you bring both mugs to your hands turning and offering it outstretched to Eddie but falls short when you see Eddie slicing fruit. The array of berries and fruits splayed out on the plate, perfectly spaced and cut with surprise precession— But that wasn’t what caught your eye.

It was the single cherry popped into his mouth, the stem rolling along his lips as he aimlessly continued cutting the last of the strawberries.

You slip the mug across the counter, Eddie side eyes your movements silently before catching your gaze, propped up on your elbows leaning your weight onto the counter. He plucks the stem, chewing softly as he reaches for his coffee.

“Mm, perfect.” He’s practically purring. “Hungry?”

You let the coffee settle on your tongue, the warmth spreading across your mouth and down your chest when you swallow a little to hard.

“Very.”

Eddie picks up a cherry, like in slow motion you watch him lean slightly opposite the counter, his stomach pressing into the edges as he leans to reach towards you— You part your lips, the smooth skin of the fruit dipping between the plush of lips, tentative eyes follow as you curl your tongue around the fruit, Eddie pulls softly, watches as the stem drags your bottom lip slightly at the tension before it snaps and Eddie’s discarding the stem to the side.

Taunt, the air thick around you with underlying tension and it seems to be eating you up, slowly. You had only just met Eddie, sort of. You had seen him in passing, more so than not he’s often with Steve but each time it’s brief. When you’re leaving or the many times he’d dropped Steve off, never spoken, never like this.

It was all to apparent, the fast attraction towards Eddie and it made you a little uneasy.

Eddie sips his coffee, goes back to eating the array of fruit.

“Sorry about last night, Steve was right, I may hurdled myself a little to hard into the house.”

“Just took me by surprise.”

You smile around the rim of your mug, eyes straining way to hard to keep focus on his, especially when the plaid pattern of his pyjama bottoms hung so low.

“You got one hell of a hit, I’m impressed.”

“You should see what else I can do.”

Eddie’s eyebrows raise in amusement, the cock of his head dips his curls to spread across his bare shoulder and there’s that damn smile again.

“I can well imagine, sweetheart.”

And this time you wish you could sink completely behind your mug, like somehow your coffee would open you up and swallow you whole. You’re thankful when the shuffling of feet come and greets you, Steve still half asleep, reaches for your coffee and taking a sip, groans slightly, pops a strawberry into his mouth.

“So good.”

Steve grumbles, stuffing several blueberries in next and you smile sweetly, amused at his half woken state.

“You can thank Eddie, he’s the chef this morning.”

You catch Eddie’s gaze and he winks, subtle enough that Steve misses it before Steve’s drinking the lasts of your coffee.

“What’s the plans today, big boy?”

Eddie steals the blueberry from Steve’s fingers, almost straining across the counter to grab it before it reaches his lips, aimlessly Steve picks up another, tosses it towards Eddie and laughs as it lands centre of his forehead— A small blue stain smudged on his skin. Eddie replaces it with another cherry.

“I think we should head down town, also want to pick up that movie, Robins put it aside.”

Steve’s got a handful of fruit at this point, mostly blueberries but you see a few orange slices in the mix. Eddie pulls a cherry, nods in agreement as Steve ushers them both towards the lounge room.

“You should join us for the movie, it’s going to be good.”

Steve offers, head half stuck out behind the wall.

“Yeah, yeah of course.”

Steve disappears around the corner and Eddie pulls the discarded stem from the cherry out of his mouth, eyes bearing into yours, a ribald expression plastered before he flicks the stem onto the counter and following Steve around the corner.

You watch the stem bounce and falter near you, and if you hadn’t forgotten how to breathe before, you had now— Starring down at the perfectly knotted cherry stem.

~*~

The stream coated your skin, the mist forming around you as you lathered your body, the feeling long overdue as you relaxed against the cascade of water. You hadn’t meant for it, when you rinsed the remaining suds from yourself, but found your fingers dipping between the folds of your pussy— Your mind reeling in memory of the knotted cherry stem, the mouth it had been pulled from, how it got that way.

Your thighs quiver with the pressure, your fingers circling expertly as you lean back against the wall, picturing your hand replaced by Eddies. Smooth pads spreading between your folds, the sparse of his thumb brushing your clit as he pushes a index finger inside, the width stretching you, much more than your own. Your head lollys back, dipping two fingers inside, thighs spreading wider for more access— Brown eyes look up at you, face buried between your legs, curls draped over your thighs— You can almost feel his tongue twirling and sucking your clit between plump lips and it’s enough to send you over the edge. The churn in your stomach uncoils, pleasure courses over your body, mixes with the warmth of the water as you coat your fingers in your own slick.

The breeze felt cool against your skin, prickling your nerves into tiny bumps as you slipped the towel from around you, discarding it somewhere along the floor. Welcoming the brush of temperature from the come down, post orgasm, aimlessly fumbling through piles of clothes to only land on a pair of shorts and a simple oversized sweater.

“Hey, it’s all set up, when you’re ready.”

“What are we watching anyway?”

You released your door to Steve standing opposite, a little to over excited as he ushered you downstairs, palms placed on your shoulders.

“Nightmare on Elm street.”

Taking place on the only available seat, you were cautious of your movements when you slipped beside Eddie, he offers a lip of the blanket, thankful as you pulled the material up around your shoulders.

~*~

It’s about half way through the movie when you feel subtle fingers graze your thigh, not daring to look— It must have been a mistake, he’s just getting comfortable, at least that’s what you tell yourself. And oddly enough you may have believed it, if those fingers weren’t now sliding up the soft of your thigh, fingertips dipping between your closed legs.

You’re actively sweating, palms way too clammy as you bunch the blanket closer to your chest. The pressure has you subconsciously spreading your thighs slightly, the gentle nudge of prying fingers making it all to easy to give way.

“Popcorn?”

Steve outstretches the plastic bowl, popcorn spilling from the edges when Eddie reaches for a handful, carefully you slip a hand from underneath the blanket— Thankful for the distraction.

“Shit! T— Thanks..”

“Scared already?”

Steve laughs, both Steve and Eddie looking at you, the blue hues from the television screen doesn’t miss the glint in Eddie’s stare and you push a semblance of a laugh out and nod— Steve clearly unaware of Eddie’s fingers brushing the mound of your pussy.

“It’s not that bad, what part made you jump?”

It’s taunting and salacious, of course Eddie would keep the conversation going— He shrugs, so very carelessly, his natural flare to entertain— Draw a distraction.

Steve laughs in the background as you stumble your words, you were completely unraveling like constant pull of a ball of yarn on the inside, yet your stomach was fluttering— Which was a welcoming feeling against the meteoric pace at which your heart was beating against your rib cage when Eddie presses a pad of his finger into the dip of your pussy, the material of your shorts giving leverage against the friction.

Words, lines, barely formed sentences you tried to re-enacte in your head willing yourself to answer and hoping your word vomit would make sense.

“Uh, the last part, y—yeah.”

By this point you had abandoned trying to get any popcorn, already retreating your hand back beneath the blanket, the steady workings of Eddie’s fingers pushing against fabric making your core grow tight.

“It’s gory at best, I thought you liked this kind of thing? You’ve watched worse.”

Steve questions further, looking straight through Eddie to search for the confirmation, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Just on edge, I guess.”

You give a quick smile, shrug of the shoulders in emphasis which had seemed to appease Steve’s curiosity, turning his attention back to the television. Eddie’s vision is still on you, his expression nonchalant, lips curled deviant when he returns his hand, the sudden loss of contact winding you momentarily.

~*~

The movie had wrapped up and you had dragged yourself back upstairs, the rest of the night had continued without incident, if you didn’t count the side glances towards you.

As you lay balled up beneath mountain of covers, your skin still buzzing from earlier, your mind flickers endless reels of touch— Imprints burning to your very core in memory pushing and pulling the anxiety from your system.

The deafening thump of knuckles against the door had you drawn to the source, you could feel your heart begin to shutter, the overwhelming pulse of blood flow bringing you harshly back to the reality around you as you clamper from your bed and slowly pull your door ajar.

Eddie’s lent up against the door frame, arms crossed along his chest, mirroring the same outfit from breakfast— You push the door further, stepping back without word, without breaking eye contact.

It’s quick, the hold around your throat, pinches against ring decorated fingers. There’s no resistance when the pull drags you and closes the distance, your weight shifted by the hand around your throat. Chest to chest, he dips his head, breath seeping across exposed skin when the brush of lips feather the shell of your ear.

“Tell me to stop.”

It’s rumbled from the depths of his chest, the vibration bites in his tone and has your pussy throbbing instantly. It bares more of a question but the underlying threat still hangs on every syllable, your throat heaves past the stark dry air, the moisture long withdrawn the moment you laid eyes on him in your doorway.

You couldn’t deny the dissipation, the whimper that drooled from your mouth and the soft shake of your head was proof of that and it was all the permission Eddie had needed.

Your legs had never ached the way they had before, not like this, the balls of your knees already painted in pretty scarlet along with the searing burn from the course carpet— But it wasn’t in vain, oh no, you had fallen to your knees by request and you never welcomed the feeling more.

“That’s a good girl..”

Eddie stood bearing over you, the shadow of his statue drowning you in darkness against the sparing light of the sole candle lit— It pinches when he sets a hand, deeply rooted at the base of your hair, knuckles wrapped in strands against the constrain in which he held your head backwards.

“Look at you baby girl, so deprived, hm?”

It’s absolutely pathetic, the whimper that you try to swallow past but had came out in a piteous whine followed by the guttural moan escaping above you that sent your system in to complete meltdown. It was utter chaos building in the core of your stomach, the unmissable heat radiating between your thighs when Eddie runs the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, your lip catching on the corners of the drag.

Eddie’s bare from the waist up, a hand reaching inside his plaid bottoms, exposing the magnitude that was his cock. Thick and long, veins running under the hardened flesh, the bead of precum pooling at his uncut tip.

His eyes are blown in determination, features set unreadable, he’s barely giving a hint of direction in his expression besides a soft curl of his lips— Then it comes, gentle but straight, the uncompromising tone to his voice.

“Be a good girl for me and open your fucking mouth.”

Your jaw goes lack immediately, tongue dipped out resting on the forefront of your chin and Eddie all but looks down at you adoringly at the sight of your eagerness, his cock twitches at the attention— You feel the moisture building inside your mouth, the subtle coat of saliva that pools along your waiting tongue.

An index and thumb catch your jaw, the pressure pushing your awaiting mouth, forming the perfect circle of your lips— The tip of his cock pushes past the plush of your lips, the sparse of your tongue trails a slick along the underside of his cock when he watches his length disappear into the hollow of your cheeks.

The steady hand tangled in the roots of your hair guides you, the stretch of his girth fills your mouth, the bob of your head comes easy once he presses to the soft of the back of your throat.

His head dips backwards, cascade of curls fall along his back as he groans against the feeling, you feel the pressure, his guidance almost forceful as he starts to fuck your mouth.

“That’s it, such a pretty mouth, hm.”

He’s thrusts into the hollow of your mouth, puffy lips raw from friction, relentless hips comes crashing against you in desperation.

Your nose peaks at his pelvis, the mound of hair nestled against your nose as drool starts to pool at the corners of your mouth. You tap his thigh— Once, twice. And he pulls aways, air seeping back into your lungs, rough and feeling like glass as you catch your breath.

He’s bent over, arms slipping around your waist as he lifts you from the floor, carrying your body across the room and flat on your back along your bed. Hasty fingers pull your bottoms from your waist, it’s unforgiving, the urgency and you had no intention of slowing the progress. It’s transgression at its finest, when he heaved a leg over his shoulder, the sparse of your thighs drip down his back— Rough hands wrap your waist. Dark eyes hover between, the familiar coil winds inside at the image but this time, this time it’s a full blown motion picture.

The curl of his lips hint below you before he’s face down, nuzzling between your folds, the sharp flick of his tongue drawing the length of your pussy— enticing a fever that trailed the length of your spine, back arching instinctively.

It was a whirlwind of delectation that clouded your mind, the deep fog settling forefront and abandoning all reason when he hums against your clit, deep waves tremble through your nerves and rocks you to your core. His tongue swirling expertly, circling your clit in motions, grazing his teeth every so often. Your hands bury themselves in the mass of his hair, hips meeting him halfway as you grind yourself against the bridge of his nose—It felt like you’re on cloud fucking nine.

It’s almost to much when he creeps a finger inside, your walls immediately clenched around the invasion and it has you arching further, your back almost rearing from the mattress.

“Eddie, please, don’t stop.”

It’s barely incoherent, but the hum that travels through you is more than enough, smooth fingers curl inside you and you’re gone.

Your whole body tingles, blood burning like fire as the pressure drops, your pussy contracting in waves as you cover Eddie’s fingers and mouth in your slick and it’s beautifully glistening against his chin and lips when he pulls away, eyes unmanaged as he crawls above you. Broad shoulders darken like a cast of shadow over you, hands weighted heavy beside your head and even in your come down, your pussy still throbs from the image above you.

“Made a mess of me, sweetheart.”

His tongue darts out, traces the line of his bottom lip before teeth replace them— sucked in between the rows of pearly whites.

“Think I’m going to have to even that out..”

It’s dark and heavy, the growl to his tone is unnerving— The brush of plastic teases your chest, the sole guitar pick bumping your breasts with every breath taken, wrapped around the neck of Eddie, instincts tell you to leave it alone, reason has you reaching for it— pulling him into your space but the thick chain, colliding lips in a hot mess of spit.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m going to ruin you.”

Fingers dig into the soft of your hips, hard, the weight holding to the bed as he goes for your throat. Teeth sink instantly, skin caught between lips as the pain collides with the growing pleasure. Hands travel and bring your hips upwards, legs slipping around the dips of his waist, perfectly, like somehow they were made to hold them.

His cock is nudging your entrance, he’s careful with his movements, letting the head drag painfully between your folds— rubbing the shaft in friction, using your slick and cum to coat the outside of his cock.

“Fuck, Eddie.. Feels so good.”

It’s whiny, pitiful— but Eddie chuckles in response, his mouth still decorating the sparse of your throat in tones of purple and scarlet.

You hadn’t been prepared, you had a semblance of a idea, but it was nothing compared to what came. You felt like your walls expanded to unbelievable size when Eddie edged his cock inside, the thick intrusion stretching you, every inch pulls more illicit moans to spill from your lips— practically bleeding and spilling out into the quiet of your room when he bottoms out.

“You got to be quiet, sweetheart, don’t want your brother to hear.”

It cuts the quiet, hushed words pressed into the column of your throat, grunted moans follow yours when you audibly gasped at the realisation— You had your brothers best friend buried inside your pussy.

“Oh, baby. Did we skip that notion a little to quick?”

He inches his cock out, thrusting back in with a little more force, hands gripped your sides as he looks down above you, the devious, knowing, smile more confronting. You hadn’t even let it past your thoughts, to caught up in chasing your own desires to stop and think of the latter— It’s mildly disturbing, wrong and so satisfying.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”

He’s reaching for your throat, a hand clasped securely around the underside of your jaw, the pressure is evident yet comfortable. His hips are now snapping into your own, sounds of skin on skin as he relentlessly pounds you further into the mattress.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You drive me crazy you know that? Don’t think I don’t notice you on the side.”

His hand unravels, bringing the other up and slipping to cradle the side of neck as he tilts your head slightly, towering over you, chest glistening in a sheen of sweat that somehow make his tattoos darker ever more against his pale tone.

“I see you, I watch you, I notice you looking at me. I’ve seen the way your gaze lingers longer than it should.”

“H—How? I’ve barely spoken to y—you.”

He’s got your legs folded against your stomach, knees to chest as he continues his pace, the delicious draw of his cock, easy making way with the self lubricant your pussy is expelling. He laughs, breathy and uneven at your question, eyes bearing intensely into your line of vision.

“Can’t miss a pretty thing like you, sweetheart. You stand out.”

It’s loud, the echo of your cries rebounding from every wall when Eddie hits that spot, your thighs quiver and Eddie quickly has a hand over your mouth, his lips curled into trouble as he manoeuvres and slams back into the soft of your pussy.

“Eddie, fuck, oh my god.”

It’s muffled behind skin, hands clawing at the arm outstretched as you try to cling onto anything sturdy to keep your composure.

“That’s it, you like that? You like my cock buried in that perfect pussy of yours. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You whimper, unable to form anything coherent at the moment, to far gone in the feeling of ecstasy, your stomach coils, the band of your orgasm stretching further until it snaps and it bubbles through your system— Warmth spreading like wildfire over your skin. Your pussy moulding around friction as Eddie fucks your orgasm out.

“Eddie, fuck Eddie.”

It’s lost behind his hand, your moans soft as Eddie’s thrusts waver, his own orgasm tearing through him when he sinks his cock further into you.

“Jesus, fuck.. Y/N.”

He’s careful when he removes himself, let’s your legs slip softly from around his waist, your body weighted to the bed— You think you should get up, clean yourself but when Eddie comes and loops a arm around your waist, tugging your fucked out body against his— Maybe it could wait.

You knew he couldn’t stay. It was only time before he had to return to the spare bedroom, quiet and unnoticed. Eddie kisses softly at your shoulder, hand runs the length of your side, trailing the curve and dips before pulling you closer.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. I’ll see you for breakfast.”

You huff a laugh, the irony of the situation and you simply curl back against his chest, questions can be answered later— For now, you’ll take what you were given and the desperate need for sleep.

[blazingstar24]

Still thinking about how Ludinus seriously did not need come back and help the BH kill Dominox. He won. He got what he needed. Dominox was never his objective, it was an obstacle. He made it past the demon and onto his own objective.

Technically BH pulled another Obann moment because them entering Dominox’s range pulled its attention away from tormenting Ludinus while he was at the Thalamus. It focused on them instead of him for a good chunk of time. And Ludinus outright said his goal was to take the Thalamus and show it to Exandria.

He could have done that already! He had all the time in the world during BH’s fight with Dominox to peace the fuck out and already be broadcasting whatever he’s found to Exandria! He literally backtracked and went out of his way to help them after hearing the sounds of fighting. Ludinus could have been back on the moon by now. It wouldn’t have mattered whether or not BH decided to free Dominox (though it would have been really fucked if they did and oops Lud’s already gone)

And sure could you call him trying to convert the BH stupid? Yeah. But it’s also what makes him such an interesting villain. Because a standard villain would not care if everyone else thought he was wrong. A standard villain would be so arrogantly self assured in their rightness that they would brush off the naysayers. And Ludinus is that. But also very much isn’t. Because why go to such lengths to convince your enemies? Ludinus is this paradoxical man because he is both so assured in his view being right and yet also needs everyone else to agree with that view to feel secure in that rightness.

Because what changed after the Malleus Key? The world’s eyes are on him and his cause now. Before it was so much easier to be secure in his own cause because he was amassing the followers, followers who were wholeheartedly agreeing, fueling that assurance that his view is the one everyone must have in their deepest darkest hearts or the one that people would be able to see with the right words. But post Malleus Key, he’s no longer doing this in secret. He’s out in the open again protesting the Gods, just like in Molaesmyr. And again, while the Vanguard numbers have grown, there are also people turning against him, withdrawing their support. Just like Molaesmyr. And honestly I think that really affected him. It’s something core to Ludinus’s psyche.

He needs to convert everyone, he needs everyone to see it his way because for him, the world post Calamity is something he cannot understand. At his core, Ludinus does not understand how life can go on after tragedy, how sometimes moving on and letting go is best. Hence why he couldn’t live happily in Molaesmyr. Why he had to try and get people to see the folly of the Gods. Because to him, how can everyone just go on, go back to worship, rebuild, when they have lost everything, when the culprit (in his POV) is still out there unpunished? And when the community shut him out, that stuck with him. It became an obsession for him to get people to realize how much they lost, how much the Gods had taken from them. Because he needs an answer to why he can’t let go, why he is still so lost. “Why can everyone else move on?” becomes “it’s just because they haven’t realized yet”.

And thus Bell’s Hells are the perfect foils to this. The party with insane amounts of lingering trauma. Defined by loss. Death follows them. And yet? They try to make every day a smiley day. They cling to the idea of a cottage at the end of the road. They sing songs about a man they knew for like three fucking days. And it’s not like they haven’t gone through this. Ashton used to needle Laudna into admitting she wasn’t over what happened to her because it made them feel better that they weren’t over their own shit. But the difference is they grew beyond that. Bell’s Hells actively fights not to give into despair, into misplaced rage, into that cyclical nature of unresolved trauma. And at its core this is what C3 is about. Unresolved trauma and what happens when it is trauma on a global scale? Because truly Exandria hasn’t healed from the Calamity. Not yet. But the BH stand here and are being asked what will you do?

Will you choose to heal or start the cycle of hurt again? Will you right the wrongs or make new ones in retaliation?

[marley-manson]

One of the show’s biggest flaws is excusing the army volunteers and its general ‘some army good’ messaging, and as a consequence Hawkeye’s biggest flaw, accidentally, is caring about his friends too much.

Like, totally reading against the text here, this is presumably not meant to be a problem, but it’s one of those once you see it you can’t unsee it things. And to be fair it’s backed up by Bless You Hawkeye lol, it just wasn’t intended to be applied this way. It’s also totally in line with the rest of Hawkeye’s character, and it’s my favourite type of flaw, ie the negative flipside of a virtue, so yk I’m biased towards seeing it.

Hawkeye making friends with Margaret and never calling her out on her politics again (again, not intended, reflective of the narrative, but incidentally fitting for Hawkeye), Hawkeye making friends with career man Potter and softening his anti-army stance, affirming he does respect Potter and reigning in his protests (eg the end of A Night at Rosie’s) and conceding to him philosophically (eg the end of Your Retention Please), Hawkeye supporting Mulcahy’s promotion endeavours and saluting him, Hawkeye warming up to Charles not when Charles’ politics shift (which doesn’t happen) but when Charles supports him emotionally...

Even early on you can make a case for Hawkeye having blindspots where people he likes are concerned - mainly because the politics of the show are wishy washy and vary from era to era and episode to episode and joke to joke, but yk, the point of this is to incorporate the flaws of the show organically into Hawkeye’s character. So you can point to indications of hypocrisy like, say, Hawkeye condemning western cultural influence in Korea in various jokes and statements on one hand and supporting Catholic orphanages on the other hand.

But like I said, this is perfectly in character for Hawkeye, which is why I think it works as a reading for me. I don’t like to take flaws of a show and and use them to interpret a character in a way that feels unintended or contradicts other characterization. But Hawkeye likes people, and he always tries to see the good in them as much as possible, and he has a textual history of downplaying the harm people do in favour of the good things, specifically because he loves them. 

And I think that “love” is the operative word here. It’s not because Hawkeye is weak-willed or has low self esteem or thinks anyone else knows better than he does or thinks he doesn’t have the right to challenge others’ opinions or anything like that. Love is the core of Hawkeye’s character.

Hawkeye forgets Billy pushing him into the water and only remembers him saving him because he loves him. Hawkeye forgives BJ for punching him the instant he apologizes and then lets him cry on his shoulder because he loves him, and empathizes. And if love is sometimes too strong a word, well, Hawkeye also just likes people. He views people optimistically, and always tries to see the good - the cavalier bomber in Dear Sigmund who he disillusions surprisingly gently imo because Hawkeye says he seems like a good guy; the general he has a drink with in Say No More before realizing he hasn’t changed his attitude despite his son’s death; the way that even early on he supports Margaret at times, and sometimes even tries to make nice with Frank...

And it just makes sense to me to take that same logic and follow through with other characters and similar situations. Colonel Potter is a career army man who essentially acts as the warden of a prison as far as Hawkeye’s draftee status ought to be concerned but he’s loveable and therefore Hawkeye loves him. By drafting him the army essentially drove him insane, and Hawkeye’s last gesture to Potter is to salute him.

Margaret is racist, isn’t challenged for it and never has an episode where she realizes she’s wrong in her us vs them worldview, is also career army, and has tried to have Hawkeye and his friends court martialed multiple times (and would’ve gotten Henry executed incidentally if her plan had succeeded in The Trial of Henry Blake) and it’s all forgotten about - yes, mainly by the narrative, but also consequently by Hawkeye, watsonianly.

It creates a very interesting tension when you take these things watsonianly instead of dismissing them like the narrative does, and I’m really into it lol.

[notesofarichlycolorednight]

okay listen. i get it. i get why ppl find certain relationships more appealing than others and want to write about it and talk about it and all that but y'all are sleeping on some of Thee Most interesting character dynamics

jiang cheng and wei wuxian's relationship as a foil to meng yao and nie huaisang's relationship

wei wuxian and lan wangji's relationship as a foil to song lan and xiao xingchen's relationship with a little jiang cheng and wei wuxian bc xiao xingchen went to baoshan sanren and begged her to take his eyes and give them to song lan where wei wuxian begs wen qing to fake being baoshan sanren and to take his golden core and give it jiang cheng

like i understand why the writers thought wen qing and wei wuxian would be a good pair. and yes, ofc, erasing his relationship with lan wangji was a bad decision and i'm glad the fandom corrected them. but wen qing, despite her protestations, performing that surgery on wei wuxian and jiang cheng? even after learning wei wuxian would have to be awake the entire time??? she's so crazy?? they're both so crazy hello???

from that, taking all the presumed scenes between wei wuxian and wen qing and just giving them to jiang cheng instead? jiang cheng crushes on wei wuxian. then the jiang clan is wiped out by the wen clan, and jiang cheng hates her. but then he restores lotus pier and the jiang clan and he wants to save her from the collective persecution from the other clans but no longer can if he doesn't want the jiang clan wiped out again

what about jiang cheng's decision to work with lan wangji to find wei wuxian after he's thrown in the burial mounds? lan wangji who he partially blames for the massacre of the jiang clan bc wei wuxian decided to stand up for and protect lan wangji (and jin zixuan). like??? what's going through his mind? how did he come to that decision? i know i've seen a post floating around talking about how jiang cheng and lan wanji have known each other longer than either of them have known wei wuxian and that just. drives me insane!!!

and i'm not strictly reducing this to shipping either. like these relationships can be romantic/sexual or not! (though i will make it clear some of these ships are not for me, esp if it veers into incest or incest-adjacent vibes; i'm not into that. but i'm also not the fanfic or moral police, so like this is not me trying to stop anyone or me making a moral judgement)

but i just feel like the fandom sleeps on them in favor of other relationships man.

[hemoplagued]

"Destroy it?" Robin gawked at his lover, brows furrowed and eyes stretched to the point of appearing like plates, unable to understand how Vlad even thought such a thing possible… Did he truly think the mage was that talented? His brow darkened at the blistering growl brought forth from his lover's chest, his own lips curling back to match the animalistic ferocity - something about the book just…stirred some deep primal instinct within Robin. He would never act like this normally, how strange.

Soon enough he hesitantly reached over to caress the bound book, as though he wasn't even aware of his actions. He was, after all, a mere man. "Do you think, beloved," how horribly venemous, "that if I could destroy it I wouldn't have had to bury it? …Oh but…you found it, you have brought it to me.. and," a shudder ran through him as his fingers curled around the chains binding it, each one screaming his name in an orchestra of death and corruption - begging for release. By now his wide eyed stare had settled upon the cover of that wretched book, as though the muscles and tendons within his body were simply puppet strings - no longer a creature of his own mind:

"And its…so much more…beautiful than I remember…"

He watched attentively as Robin soon lost himself in the presence of the book. Cursed as it may be, Vlad was keen on making sure his lover was safe. Although, pleasantly surprised at Robins reaction towards it. For him, it was an experiment, something he wished to see. But it soon was apparent that Robin mo longer had control. Which made Vlads core writhe. Were he had a heart he could feel it, but whatever was left was writhing with hatred. A possessiveness that overcame the Noble with a violent hatred. The book must go.

“Enough.” Vlad says, voice firm, before Robin could even clamor to open its cover. His clawed hand rose, an effortless task and Robins body lost control of itself. Seizing and violently stiffening to stop him from moving any more. His limbs twisted as if he were bound by rope. Legs crossing and arms folding behind his back. Spare his face, which uttered violent protests towards Vlad. The sclera’s of Vlads eyes were infected with red. The crimson of his pupils bleeding itself outwards into the rest of his eyes as his powers were used with more force. Then the entirety of his gaze was consumed with a violent crimson. An endless pool of blood which gave no preview of his emotions he felt, as if he closed the windows to his soul. His servants approached, their eyes mimicking the same crimson hue as they dropped an ornate box down to the floor. Carefully storing the book within lock and key. “Remove this from our sight. Destroy it if you must. If either if you fall for its whims, kill yourselves.” The last command spoken with barely a care towards his servants. It seemed like it was something he had said more than once.

His attention turning to his lover who was fighting his power. Eventually the insanity the book plagued him with fading as it moved further away. Eventually fading to fear, realization and then his voice croaking out to Vlad. His eyes holding a sense of pain as he had came to the realization he had no control of himself. His actions prior unknown to him, or why his love was holding him so violently with his magic. “V-vlad?” He said, terror in his tone. “W-what are you doing? I can’t move. This hurts.” The nobles gaze was unmoving, assessing the situation. Unsure if this was another trick from the book to release Robin from his capture prematurely. “Simply doing what I must, love.” The sentence dripped with distrust. The pet name he had so sweetly called Robin soiled by the seriousness of his tone. “Please, let me go.” The sentence caused Vlads nose to wrinkle, his fingers curling in the air which caused Robin to float towards him. Forcing his eyes to meet the deep red pools of Vlads own.

“You have explaining to do.” He hisses.

[velathetanager]

Tick, Tick, Tick (a Cybersphere One-Shot)

Author’s Note: Silver is a precious metal and a precious character, and it really did hurt to do this to him. --- In Sonic's defense, it had been the best option at the time. Silver was a dangerous hedgehog, and to be on the business end of his power was not something the blue blur wanted to go through again, even if it was for his own good. So when the time traveler stopped by, he had to think fast. Thankfully, Silver had dropped a plan right into his lap. "Sonic! I'm so glad I caught up with you. We got another future catastrophe to avoid." The hedgehog turned to the voice, dressed in a red and black jumpsuit. "Heya, Silver. Another one? Are you sure it's our fault this time?" Silver smiled slightly. "Most things are," he joked, hovering upside-down briefly before landing on his feet. "In all seriousness. I don't know where it came from, but I wanted to check here first and work my way closer to or father from this point in time depending on how it goes. Do you have time to help me?" Sonic leaned against a tree. "Sure. Just what are we looking for?" "Destruction's Core. A superweapon currently being used by one of Eggman's descendants to terrorize the planet. I don't know anything about how to counter it. Or where it might be." Silver held up a photo. A stormy orb that rather resembled a skull. Sonic cringed. "Okay... this is gonna suck to find, but I can help you, man. Let's start with the basics..." The Green Hill Zone didn't have it. Neither did Aquatic Run or the Marble Zone. Or really, any zone the pair checked. They fought badniks, mercenaries, and even the Deadly Six during their search, which visibly tired Silver out a little, but he wouldn't stop. Not now. The Core was too dangerous. So he carried on, burning himself out as Sonic helped him track down the weapon. Eventually, their search led them to the Mystic Cave Zone. Silver, of course, did a lot of the work moving boulders and gems out of the way, clearing the path for Sonic (who really needed to not run if he wanted to notice anything important, now that he thought about it). The caverns were long and winding, and there were deeper and deeper paths the two could go through. But Sonic was eventually the one to find the right one. "HEY SILVER! C'MERE!" he called, staring at the Core. It practically radiated malice and death; even the eyes in the skull looked sunken in and bore a sickly orange glow. Silver floated in, looking at it and seeming to go pale. "Oh... yep. That's it, alright. It looks so much worse up close..." "I bet," Sonic replied. "It's terrifying. A real game changer. Good thing we found it, huh?" And then he tackled Silver. The gray hedgehog tried to throw Sonic off, but the blue blur held his hands down and cuffed him. Of course, this prompted a shocked, "What the hell are you doing?!" "Listen. Silver. I can't explain everything right now, but big changes are coming soon, and if they happen the way things are now, I'll never see you again. And I don't want that. So I have to do this before I destroy that Core." "Do what?!" Sonic sighed. "I'm going to cut you off from the flow of time. And it's going to hurt. A lot. But I swear, you'll feel and BE better once I'm done. And you'll be immune to timeline changes." "Wh- You're insane! That's not even possible!" Silver protested. To which Sonic replied with a slow change in appearance, starting with an antenna poking out behind his ear. "Maybe for anyone else." One of his gloves turned black and the other disappeared, revealing a robotic hand. "But here's the thing." The sweatsuit twisted and warped into a black cape, revealing a red X on his chest with a silver circle in the center. "I've been running with a new crowd recently." His long, black boots retracted, revealing robotic versions of his lower legs along with black stripes where the white had been. "And they specialize in all the things no one should be able to do." A red visor grew from one side of Sonic's head to the other, and a red halo flared to life behind him, making him look like a dark angel. "So yes, I can do that." The silver circle on his chest opened, revealing a piercing red eye that stared right into Silver's own. Silver, understandably, tried to speak up. "Wait-" But Sonic just sighed, muted his hearing sense, and went to work. Time bent and broke around them. Space writhed and twisted. The universe was dragged into submission as Sonic violently tore Silver away from its laws. Even with the muted hearing, Sonic could hear Silver's ear-splitting cries just from the look on his face and the way his body was flashing and scrambling itself, then unscrambling itself. And it was terrible. But Sonic wouldn't back down. He couldn't. He didn't want to lose a friend. Finally the process ended. Silver lay weakly on the ground, holding his side, and Sonic cradled him, soothing him. "You did good, buddy... I'm so sorry. I wish it didn't have to hurt. It'll make sense soon, I promise. Just... just let me take you home." The blue hedgehog picked Silver up gently and put him to sleep (Sedative power was amazing). Then he looked at the Core. Arms made of shadow swarmed it and covered it. It took five seconds to grind the thing to dust. It had served its purpose, and he couldn't risk anyone else getting a hold of it. Sonic carried Silver into darkness and disappeared. humming a lullaby to the time traveler in his arms. It would be fine. Cybernet would make it fine.

[hwallazia]

PRETTIEST WHEN OVERSTIMULATED – 김홍중

synopsis . in which you should’ve known better before teasing your boyfriend under the table while dining with your parents.

pairing . kim hongjoong & fem!reader

genre . smut and only smut (mdni!), established relationship, first time meeting in-laws (oof), non idol!au

taglist . @bro-atz @purplenimsicle @vampzity @iykyunho @yyaurii | apply to join my taglist ♡

word count . 0,9k

DISCLAIMER! mean dom! hongjoong (he has his ups and downs from dominating but still), sub! reader, exhibitionism if you squint, touching under the table (duh), dacryphilia?, begging, lots of whining, spanks, vibrator usage, overstimulation ofc, dirty talk, sarcasm & mocking (i’m just weak for it y’all sorry), teasing, praise, pet names (darling, sweetheart, joongie, sweetness & more), lowercase is intentional!

NIC’S NOTES i am so weak for this man. even more when mixing sarcasm with him (the amount of sighs i let out while writing this is insane) i’m also thinking abt making this a series but idk yet hehe (it’s prolly a yes bc i melt apart when it comes to overstimulation 😵‍💫) anyways, as always, enjoy <3

teasing hongjoong under the table while dining in your parents’ house maybe wasn’t a good idea. it was his first time meeting your parents, so of course, he got dolled up for the occasion; he had to make a good impression on his in-laws. black jeans hugged his smooth legs as a white shirt’s collar surrounded his neck, a chromed silver chain dangled around his chest.

at some point, hongjoong’s flawless, collected appearance vanished. the white shirt contrasted his reddened face as his dick struggled inside the rough fabric of the jeans, creating a prominent tent. all of this mess caused by you and your impatient hand which formed a loop of stroking his member for a few seconds before rubbing his thigh up and down.

his calm, yet slightly twisted expression belied how badly he craved bending you over the table and fuck you relentlessly, no mercy shown. the gazes you both shared said it all, his stern look warning you about your actions and that there’d be serious consequences for you and your doe-eyes faking the biggest amount of innocence known to man, not giving a single shit about the punishment.

well, you should’ve worried.

mascara ran down your cheekbones; trembling hands gripping the silk sheets. your bottom lip quivered involuntarily as breathless pants left your mouth as foggy clouds; the cold droplets caused by the cold weather crafted a small percentage of humidity to dim the room. a plastic, lilac-colored vibrator stimulated your insides, and hongjoong abused his power over the remote. and by abusing, i mean making you come three times in a row with no breaks in the middle to recompose.

your shivering core was flattened against the mattress, and you dived in deeper and deeper into the blankets every time he increased the speed. incoherent babblers fell on hongjoong’s deaf ears.

“joongie, p-please—‘s too much, too fucking m-much” you cried out loud, saying that you felt your knees no more was an understatement.

swearing only earned you a harsh slap on your shuddering thigh, a mewl was heard. “the mouth on you.” he spat, almost in disbelief, as he clicked on the remote. the sound of the louder vibration deafened your ears, your legs almost flying around if it wasn’t because of hongjoong’s demanding feature, harsh spanks against your flesh reddening by the impact. “you wanted to play, didn’t ya? let’s play then.”

“b-but this isn’t fair!—ah!” you complained. as if you had room to protest. another loud smack to your buttock reminding you who’s in charge pulled a pitiful whine out of you.

“you know what isn’t fair?” his hand reached to your throbbing, neglected clit. “me trying to impress your parents while you touched my cock under the table.”

“does that seem fair to you, darling?” he asked even though he knew you were incapable of formulating any rational thoughts, let alone to respond understandable words. still, he was sweet enough to give you a few, meaningless seconds to think of your answer.

but, he grew impatient. “answer me. now.” his firm tone sent shivers down your messy, trembling core. still not trusting your voice, you tried to mutter a response, your words narrowly escaping as a faint whisper.

“n-no” your soft mewl was barely perceived by hongjoong’s eardrum.

“speak louder. you know better.” his gaze and voice, tinged with near disgust, made the coil in your stomach tighten even more. the way your folds clenched not going unnoticed by him.

“n-no, it’s unfair.” you said a little louder this time, and hongjoong’s lips curled in a satisfied grin. “b-but please. have mercy on me.”

“mercy? pfft.” his sarcasm and teasing facade pulled an annoyed huff; brows furrowed, eyelashes fluttering tears. just before speaking, he increased the intensity. once again. “you’re amusing, sweetheart.”

an exasperated sigh escaped your lips, followed by the loudest moans you had ever uttered, each sound echoing with raw frustration. the waves of vibration flowing through your clit and therefore your limbs, a slight headache even starting to become present. your thighs were probably still shaking. you didn’t know. you stopped feeling them a while ago. desperate pants, accompanied by frequent eye rolling, signaled to hongjoong just how close you were.

“oh look at those beautiful thighs shaking.” he muttered under his breath, stroking your pink-colored flesh. “so gorgeous.”

“oh my—fuck, joong. i’m s-so fucking close” your release danced over the edge and hongjoong had so much fun with it.

“i know, my sweetness. just let it go, i got you.” some kind of gentle, merciful grin appeared on hongjoong’s lips, belying the dominant facet he had a couple of moments ago.

hongjoong pulled the vibrator that was buried inside you and pressed it against your clit, so swollen and red; walls clenching around the emptiness left. and that’s when you lost it.

while hongjoong cooed at you with the sweetest words and vibrations waved through your sensitive bud, you fell apart. a strangled moan making hongjoong’s dick twitch underneath the rough fabric that separated him from ramming his hard-on into your pink, swollen, and surely delicious folds. a series of quiet “that’s it, oh just like that” tingled your eardrums, which were deafening with each passing second. your blissed-out expression being worthy of a painting.

as soon as you recovered the ability to articulate logical sentences, you looked up at him half-lidded.

“fuck you” you spat breathlessly almost angrily as your chest rose and fell.

“oh?” his brow cocked in mischief. “bet.”

| masterlist

[casspurrjoybell-18]

Worthless - Chapter 8

*Warning Adult Content*

Kade

My mind was reeling, a human she said and to make matters worse, it was my mate's father. A father's greatest treasure is their child. He was there to help mold them to be a good person, he was supposed to be a role model for them but this man, this piece of trash, not even worthy of being called human, had the twisted and demented urge to beat his child and torment him for who knows how long. My rage only increased as I looked at Asher's emotionless eyes. Did he not care? Or worse, was he in denial? I could tell the others felt the storm raging in me with the way they slowly got into a defensive stance.

"Calm yourself, Kade."

I flinched at the Alpha's all-commanding voice, my gaze going to Eric's and back to Asher's own nervous one.

'Shit.'

Getting riled up wouldn't help anything. I sighed, closing my eyes, and breathed in and out. The anger, though still present, dulled.

"Sorry."

Eric gave a nod of approval, turning back to the wayward wolves.

"We'll put that matter, as troubling as it is, to the side for now."

I stiffened at his words however a quick look from Eric kept me in check.

"As for the act of joining a pack, it's rather an easy process of submitting to the Alpha, in this case, to me."

Riley and Fallon looked nauseous at the mention of submitting, Asher just growled. Thalia surprised me by piping up.

"It's not like what you're thinking," she said with a soft smile.

"He means that you accept him, that you open your mind and acknowledge him as the Alpha. Once you do, once you connect with the pack, you feel warm and safe. We're more than just a group of wolves, we're a family."

They were visibly calmer... the want was clearly written on their faces. Although doubt outshined it, there was a desire for family hidden in Asher's eyes. Everyone understood their uncertainty. After what they've been through, only an insane person would agree without any thought. Even so, I won't lie and say it didn't hurt that my mate didn't trust me. Without taking her eyes off us, Riley spoke to Asher.

"I don't want Fallon to always be on the run, always looking over his shoulder. I don't want to. They can help us, Asher and their intentions seem pure."

She took a deep, shaky breath, as if afraid.

"I think we should accept."

Fallon's head bobbed up and down in agreement. Everyone's expressions brightened a bit except for Asher's, who looked even more pained. With every minute that passed, we grew more nervous, waiting for his response. Whatever he decided would not only affect them but that pack as well. I knew that I would follow him no matter where he went even if it meant abandoning the position of Beta. It sounds horrible to choice this person, who I've just meant, over the pack I grew up in but even if I stayed I wouldn't be any good to the pack.

Without my mate, I would slowly go mad... he was my other half. I didn't notice how tense I was until he finally he let out a sigh and gave a slight nod, indicating that they would stay. My face instantly split into a grin, the tension flowing out of me. Rory gave a small cheer and everyone relaxed with a smile. Riley and Fallon threw their arms around Asher, being careful of his wounds. After a moment Riley turned to Eric, smiling.

"We're ready to join the pack."

Eric stepped forward, moving to kneel before them.

"There are steps to joining a pack. I'm going to establish a pack link by delving into your mind. There'll be a slight pressure, don't try to fight it. I need to go to the core of you and connect your mind to the rest of the pack."

Eric smiled as Riley and Fallon nodded in understanding.

"I can only do one at a time."

Riley stood a little straighter.

"I'll go first."

Asher let out a sound of protest but was quickly cut off.

"Asher I can handle it. I think that once you see we've come out unscathed then it'll be easier for you."

Her feature softened and she reached out to rub his head.

"It'll be fine."

And with that, she turned back to Eric, ready to begin.

Asher

It was over quickly. Riley went first with Fallon excitedly following. I was nervous, ready to pounce on the Alpha at any sign that they were being harmed even though I knew I would lose. He, himself, was powerful enough to bat me to the side without much effort. Plus, the others would leap in to protect him. I watched them as they finished, now connected to this family. They looked happier, Riley's face was aglow and Fallon kept giggling. I suspected the others were speaking to them, given the playful expressions on some of their faces.

"Asher? Are you ready?" Alpha Eric asked, bringing me out of my thoughts.

After a moment of hesitation, I gave a slight nod, stepping forward. My body was tense. I felt it flowing off of me in waves. The one known as Kade kept his gaze on me, making me feel slightly nervous but at the same time safe. He was happy, though I didn't know why.

'Did they not get new members often or something?'

I turned my attention back towards Eric, making sure I showed no signs of weakness even though, secretly, I was terrified. I was terrified of what was to come. I was never part of a pack and didn't know what would happen, what they would expect of me. I didn't know what they would learn. Even so, I stood tall and looked him straight in the eye. Eric closed his eyes and I focused on doing as he told the others. A minute passed and Eric opened them, a small frown on his face.

"It's like there's a wall around your mind. You'll need to lower it."

He paused, seeing my struggle, and adopted a softer expression,

"Close your eyes. Try to clear your mind of all thoughts. Just listen to my voice and let you body relax."

I did as instructed, my body seeming to get heavier and my breathing grew deeper. Slowly I started to feel something at the edge of my consciousness. It took some effort to stop my mind from automatically closing off. I felt the presence slowly delve further into my mind. It didn't intrude on my memories, for which I was relieved but kept going towards its destination. The closer it came, the more uneasy I felt. My mind, as cloudy and unfocused as it was, was about to attack the foreign thing but suddenly a voice sounded.

'It's alright Asher. Just relax, I'm almost done.'

I didn't know if I nodded or not but complied, trying to do what I was told. With some effort, I felt myself relaxing again, allowing him to travel further. I gasped as he connected me to the pack link. Everything was suddenly illuminated. I felt not only the Alpha but everyone who was connected to him. There was a web of consciousnesses that I at first shrunk away from. Shaking away my fear, I ventured forward, brushing against the minds of various members in the pack. They were curious but did not push me for information. They sensed that I was part of their pack. One strand stood out from the rest. It was different, familiar even though I knew I never connected with it, and radiated a gentle and loving warmth. Slowly, I reached out to it and was instantly washed over with joy.

'Asher,' he called in a soft tone.

I stayed silent for a moment, hesitating. He waited patiently for me, understanding seeping through the link. I felt other things coming from him but I could not name them. However, I knew that he meant no harm. My fear cast aside, I opened my eyes, instantly connecting to the luminous green ones that I knew belonged to the voice and said a word I haven't spoken in many, many years.

'Hello.'