#me pulling a random plot out of my ass

[kxllerblond]

so in other words, i'm fucked.

Brows turned down and his face seemed to scrunch at the...crude bluntness of it all. ❝-—I like to think I put it far more delicately. But, yes. In other words you are, as you say, fucked. ❞

Clark was, in many ways, just another man bouncing from gig to gig. In many ways, they stood equal there now working beneath the same employer-—Clark's only upper hand being age which had yielded him more experience by default. ❝ Look, I don't mean to be the one to hand you your termination notice, but this whole scheme is likely going to collapse by the end of next week. ❞ crime rings tended to be volatile like that, especially when the upper echelon of things decided to get involved.

❝ I didn't think it would be news. I assumed you yourself assumed. I mean, he killed a fed six months ago, darling. You can get away with a lot but...typically not that. ❞ he clucked his tongue and scoffed, arms coming to rest in a comfortable and casual shrug.

❝ Well, now I feel a bit bad. ❞ Clark had such a web of connections that he could easily snip a burning one before it engulfed the rest. But he knew this to be a luxury not every one had. ❝ I can manage a few recommendations if you don't otherwise have something lined up but I would wholly insist on getting out now before the ship starts to sink. ❞

[flowersforbucky]

devil's in the backseat

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3.7k

summary/prompt: a night at coney island with your friends turns out much differently than expected.

or getting fucked in front of a mirror

author's note: this is my first halloween fic!! this was so much fun to write. if you've read haunting adeline, then you know exactly what inspired the mirror maze scene! also disclaimer i have never been to coney island so if any of this is inaccurate then just pretend ok it's fiction :))

warnings/tags: smut, 18+ only content, sex in a public setting, mirror sex, oral (female receiving), unprotected p in v, friends to lovers, romanogers makes an appearance! kind of grumpy!reader, protective bucky, random men being creepy, language, reader is afab, she/her pronouns, reader pov, no use of y/n, porn with a little plot, fluff

my masterlist

“I can't fucking believe I let you talk me into wearing this.”

You tug the tight, cherry red colored velvet fabric of the babydoll dress in place for the dozenth time since arriving at Coney Island.

“What? You look hot. Plus, our costumes go great together.”

Natasha's costume mirrors your own - except hers is a pearlescent white and instead of a pitchfork and horns, she dons angel wings and a halo.

“I don't feel hot. I feel cold. It's fifty degrees and the sun hasn't even set yet.” If it wasn't for the black thigh high boots that cover the majority of your legs, you'd be shivering in the chilly late October weather.

“It's not my fault that you put off getting a costume until the last minute and had to pick through what little was left at Spirit Halloween,” she mumbles, passing you one of the cups of apple cider that the cashier hands to her. You gladly accept, sucking down the hot liquid in hopes that it will warm you from the inside.

Her phone dings as the two of you walk towards the rides. “It's Steve,” she informs you as she reads the text message. “They just got here,” she looks back up at you with a smirk on her face and a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Bucky decided to come with them.”

You roll your eyes, suddenly hating your borderline provocative costume even more.

“I thought he was leaving for a job in Denver this evening?”

It's not that you didn't want to see Bucky. It's that you didn't want to see Bucky dressed like this. As if you don't already get flustered around him when you're dressed in normal, everyday clothing. The hem of your dress barely conceals the curve of your ass and your tits are practically spilling over the low neckline.

“Guess it's been postponed,” she shrugs, nudging you with her shoulder.

The two of you turn to look in the opposite direction when a familiar voice calls your names. You see Steve, Sam, and Bucky walking towards you. Steve is dressed as a pirate, eyepatch and all. Sam wears a cowboy costume with an oversized hat, concealing the upper half of his face entirely.

And Bucky? Bucky wears jeans and a navy blue Henley.

Yeah, you're regretting any of your life choices that lead up to this moment.

“Well, well, well,” Sam drawls as he tips his hat back enough to take in yours and Natasha’s outfits. “Look what we have here. An angel and a devil. Have you two already entered the costume contest for best duo or should I go add your names?”

“You wouldn't dare,” you scold him. Natasha just laughs, falling into Steve’s embrace as he plants a kiss to her forehead.

“We should, you know,” Natasha agrees. “I think we'd have a pretty good shot at winning.”

“Yeah, right,” you retort, looking around at some of the more elaborate, creative costumes that many of the strangers around you are sporting. You notice a man and woman dressed as Beetlejuice and Lydia Deetz and know that you and Nat wouldn't stand a chance in a costume contest. “And what about you?” You acknowledge Bucky, your eyes skimming up and down his civilian clothes. “Didn't have time to pull together a costume?”

He smirks, his eyes trailing up your figure for a heated moment before he responds. “I'll have you know that I am in costume, actually.”

Steve and Sam both snort in laughter.

“Oh yeah? And what are you supposed to be, exactly?”

He tugs up the sleeve of his shirt, showing off the shiny vibranium that is his left arm.

“I'm the Winter Soldier,” he says with a smug grin. “Obviously.”

“How creative,” you praise sarcastically.

“Cut me some slack,” he feigns insult. “I was supposed to be halfway to Colorado right now. I didn't have time to pull together anything too cute.” His eyes flicker to your dress and boots at the word cute. If anyone else notices, they say nothing.

“What are we doing just standing around here?” Natasha exclaims, tugging Steve in the direction of the rides and games. “I want to ride every ride and eat funnel cake.”

They race ahead of the rest of you, with Sam close behind, leaving you and Bucky to fall into step beside each other.

“So, why did your mission get postponed?” You ask casually, trying to fight down the nerves that threaten to bubble over every time you're alone with him.

“Beats me,” he shrugs. “Fury didn't give much of an explanation. I got the text as I was loading my bags into the car to head out.”

“That's annoying,” you mumble, swallowing the remnants of your hot apple cider. “I'm sorry,” you tell him with a glance in his direction. “I'm sure it was for a good reason.”

He shrugs. “I'm here, so I can't be too mad about it.”

Before you can overthink exactly what he means by that, you're both brought to a halt when a jolly looking man in a Ghostbusters costume steps directly in front of you, blocking your path.

“This little devil looks like she needs a giant sloth!” He exclaims, gesturing towards the prizes hanging above the balloon darts station next to you.

“Oh, no,” you start. “That’s okay–”

“Come on!” The red-faced vendor insists, looking at Bucky. “Don't you want to win your girl a giant sloth? Perhaps a giant giraffe? If she was mine, I'd be winning her any prize she wants. I'll give you five throws for ten doll–”

“Fine, fine,” Bucky relents, digging into his back pocket for his wallet. You notice a faint hint of pink blooms along the apples of his cheeks, but he doesn't correct the man when he calls you his girl. “You've worn me down,” he sighs as he shoves a crumpled ten dollar bill into the man's hand.

The man accepts the money with a satisfied, toothy grin and hands Bucky five darts.

“If you get three out of the five throws, you can choose a prize from here,” the man gestures towards a section of smaller prizes. “And if you get all five throws, you can choose–”

The man is cut off by the sharp popping sound of a balloon, and then a second, and a third, until all five darts have been impaled on the board in a consecutive line in a matter of seconds.

“She'll take the bunny,” Bucky tells him before he can erase the stunned look off of his face. He points to a large, flop-eared purple bunny hanging from the upper row of prizes.

Unlike the vendor, you aren't shocked by his perfect aim at all. Anyone who knows Bucky would have known that he wouldn't miss a single shot. You are shocked, however, that he chose the bunny without even asking which prize you want.

The man in the Ghostbusters costume grabs the bunny and hands it to you, surprise still etched on his face. He mumbles a quick goodnight before he's moving onto the next people approaching the stand.

“How did you know I'd want the bunny?” You ask Bucky, trying to juggle the stuffed animal, your empty cup of cider, and your pitchfork all in your arms.

“You like bunnies, right? It was an educated guess.” He shrugs, moving through a thick crowd of people away from the game stations. “Here, let me carry it for you,” he offers when he notices the large stuffed animal is obstructing your vision. You hand it over to him and he tucks it underneath his metal arm.

“Thank you,” you tell him, your cheeks heating at the realization that he'd remembered such an inconsequential piece of information about you. You do like bunnies. The cold night air suddenly feels a lot more balmy.

“I'm - uh - I'm going to find a trash can real quick,” you say as you wiggle the empty cup in your hand. Truthfully, you just need a moment to collect yourself.

You begin walking in the opposite direction before he can reply, your eyes scanning the throng of people for a garbage can.

So what if he knows that you like bunnies? It's a pretty trivial fact that probably means nothing. You know that Natasha’s favorite animal is flamingos - because she's your friend. It's normal for friends to know things that their friends like.

Right? Right.

“I like that outfit a whole lot, baby. But I think you'd look even cuter in just the boots and those horns.”

You're so lost in your internal monologue that you don't even notice two men closing in on you as you toss the empty cup into a trash can. Unlike most of the people here tonight, neither of them are in costumes. They stand so close to you that you can smell booze on their breath.

“Oh, fuck off,” you groan as you attempt to walk away, but they've effectively blocked you between their bodies and the large garbage can behind you. Wicked grins grow on their faces as you realize that you can't get by them.

“Look, I don’t have the patience for this tonight. Get out of my fucking way.”

“Or what?” One of them taunts. “You'll use that little pitchfork on us? Jokes on you, because we're into that.”

“What if I used it on you?” A familiar voice comes from behind them. “Would you still like that?”

Before they can even turn around to identify the voice, Bucky is pulling him back by the hood of his sweatshirt and throwing him on the ground with little to no effort. The other one attempts to stumble away as Bucky turns his attention to him.

He still has your bunny clutched in his flesh hand - despite the seriousness of the situation, you have to bite your lip to keep from smirking at the sight. You don't know of anyone who could be quite as intimidating while holding a stuffed purple bunny.

“What about you?” Bucky asks, towering over the guy by half a foot. “You got anything you wanna say?”

“I - no - we didn't know she was with someone,” he half slurs, half stutters out. His gaze flickers to Bucky's vibranium hand. The man on the ground manages to stand back up, following after his friend.

“Now you know,” Bucky calls after them as they quickly hobble away.

“I had that handled, you know,” you tell Bucky with a nod towards your pitchfork. “But thank you, anyway. Really.”

He places a gentle but firm grasp on the top of your arms and begins to tug you in the opposite direction, guiding you through the small crowd that had stopped to witness the altercation.

“I have no doubt about that,” he sighs, releasing his grip on you when the two of you are a reasonable distance away. “But I also don't doubt that you handling it would have drawn even more attention.”

He's right. If he hadn't stepped in, your method of handling it would have been even more dramatic.

“They would have deserved it,” you mumble. “I knew I shouldn't have worn this stupid costume.”

“They definitely would have deserved it,” he agrees. “And your costume isn't stupid. You should be able to wear any costume you like without getting harassed by drunk assholes.”

The two of you approach the ferris wheel as it comes to a slow stop, a couple getting out of one of the cars. You and Bucky flash your wristbands to the operator, who offers to hold your pitchfork for you while you’re on the ride.

“Besides,” he continues as you sit down next to each other in the car, the operator locking the gate in place. “I happen to like your costume. A lot.” He turns his head to you, his gaze trailing from the tops of your thigh high boots and up to the felt horns that adorn your head.

There's a shift in energy as the ferris wheel suddenly comes to life, sending you sliding across the limited space of the metal bench seat and right up against him.

“Oh, yeah?” You tease with your face a few inches from his. Close enough to see your reflection in his irises. “Is that why two different people have implied that I'm yours tonight and you haven't corrected either of them?”

“Your costume had nothing to do with that. I wouldn't have corrected them even if you were dressed as a giant banana,” he says, his tone and face both serious. “Does it bother you that I didn't correct them?”

“No,” you answer automatically - eagerly. You should feel embarrassed, but with the way he's looking at you, and how good it feels to be pressed so snug against him, you can't find it within yourself to care. “I didn't correct them either,” you point out.

The ferris wheel comes to a stop to let new people get on when your cart reaches the peak.

“And why is that?” he asks lowly. If you weren't sitting so close to him, you wouldn't have been able to hear him over the obnoxiously loud carnival music that pours from speakers in between the ferris wheel's carts.

He wraps his metal arm around your shoulders, pulling you further into him.

“Because I liked the sound of it,” you answer honestly. Your voice quivers - from nerves, or from a gust of wind that sways the pod still perching at the top of the wheel.

“Is that right?” he murmurs. He places his flesh hand on the exposed skin of your thigh - just above the top of your boot and just under the hem of your dress. His fingertips rest near the crack between your thighs. Instinctively, you spread your legs apart - not much, but enough for him to smirk at your body's automatic response to his touch.

“You like the sound of being my girl?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I do. Is that okay with you?”

He chuckles, his fingers inching further up your thigh. You spread your legs open further, giving him the go ahead to go as high as he wants. He stops when he reaches the apex of your thighs, just an inch away from the cloth of your panties. He applies pressure with his fingertips, his short nails digging into the sensitive flesh and making you clench your legs around his hand.

“That depends,” he contemplates. “Are you my girl?”

You open your mouth to answer when the sensation of his index finger grazing the fabric that covers your cunt makes you forget how to speak. You sit there with your mouth agape as he hooks a finger into the cotton panties.

He eases a finger through your folds, lubricating it in your slick before adding a second finger and massaging the pads of them over your sensitive clit.

“Feels like you're my girl.”

You become vaguely aware of the fact that the ride is now in motion once more, heading back down to the ground, when Bucky places the stuffed bunny on your lap in an effort to conceal what is happening in the cart that you and him share.

He alternates between slow, languid circles and quick strokes against your clit as the ferris wheel makes its way down and then back up again. You can feel yourself soaking your underwear as the world dizzies around you. You hide your face in Bucky's neck to conceal the pleasure written across your face.

You're seconds away from coming against his fingers, the pressure in your belly building to a climax, when he pulls away and tugs your dress into place. Your gaze snaps up to his, shooting daggers, as the ride comes to a slow stop. He looks back at you with an amused smirk as the operator approaches the cart to unlock the gate.

“Sorry about that, sweetheart,” he tells you in a strained voice as he snatches the bunny back from you. “After you,” he motions with his head as the operator holds the gate open for you.

Stunned and speechless at what just happened, you stumble out of the cart and down the stairs to the ride's exit with Bucky behind you - both of you completely forgetting about your pitchfork. You can't help but snort a laugh at the position of the large stuffed animal - directly over Bucky’s crotch.

“Real discreet,” you tell him, glancing down at the bunny and then back up to the semi-pained expression on his face.

“I have to admit, right now this thing is worth every penny that I spent on it,” he sighs, and then removes one hand from the bunny to place it on your lower back. “Follow me,” he instructs with a smirk.

He guides you through the crowd and you follow him without question, just trying to ignore the wet ache between your legs.

You shoot him a quizzical look when you arrive at the house of mirrors. You haven't been in a mirror maze since you'd gotten lost in one at ten years old.

There's an attendant sitting in a chair outside of the entrance who unenthusiastically greets the two of you. Bucky reaches into his pocket, digging out his wallet for the second time that evening. He pulls out a hundred dollar bill and flashes it at the elderly man smoking a Pall Mall.

“Take this and don't let anyone else in until we come out,” Bucky tells him before dragging you into the attraction. You and the gray haired man both go wide eyed.

“What was that?” you cackle as the door slams to a close behind you. Bucky doesn't answer, just grabs one of your hands in his and begins guiding you through the maze of mirrors as if he's been here a hundred times.

The entire place is lit by bright, neon red lights that only aid in further confusing your sense of direction. Bucky doesn’t seem phased in the slightest, finally coming to a stop after a few minutes of maneuvering through the endless mirrors.

“You never answered me, you know,” he says as he drops your bunny to the floor. “When I asked if you're my girl.” He smirks at you, stepping closer to you and backing you against the mirror behind you.

“You just paid that man a hundred dollars to get me alone,” you jab as you pull him to you by the front of his Henley. “I think it's safe to say that I am.”

He smiles as you pull him down to you, crushing your lips to his. His hands trail down your back until they land where your thighs meet the curve of your ass cheeks. You release months worth of tension into the kiss, sweeping your tongue along the swell of his bottom lip before slipping it into his mouth the second that he parts his lips for you. He groans into the kiss, kneading the globes of your ass with his fingers. You can feel a prominent bulge through his jeans against your stomach.

Adrenaline begins to kick in when he pulls away, looking down at you with lust blown pupils. He sinks to the floor below you, kneeling in front of your cunt as he raises your dress around your waist and tugs your panties down your legs and over your boots. He slips them into his back pocket before hiking one of your legs across his shoulder.

You can already feel your juices leaking down your inner thighs before his mouth makes contact with you. When he does, you lean your head back against the glass behind you in pleasure.

He sucks your clit between his kiss-swollen lips with an obscene pop before running his tongue down your folds. He plunges his tongue inside you and you grind yourself against his face, chasing the release that you were seconds away from on the ferris wheel.

He moans at the taste of you and the vibration has your walls clenching around his tongue. You ride out your orgasm on his face, the neon red lights blurring and spinning around you.

Despite the fact that your legs feel like jelly, you pull him up to you as soon as you're able to form a coherent thought. You clumsily paw at the button of his pants and his zipper, and he shoves both his jeans and boxers down over his ass, just far enough to free his cock.

He places both of his hands just under your armpits and lifts you as you instinctively lock your legs around his hips.

The head of his cock nudges your wet folds, your juices coating his length before he nudges it inside you.

You feel full before he's even halfway in you. Your walls constrict around him and he digs his teeth into his bottom lip as he adjusts to the sensation of you.

“Fuck, that's tight. You're perfect,” he grunts as he sheaths the rest of his length into you. You let out a sound somewhere between a whimper and a gasp.

He has total control as he cradles you between his body and the cold, hard mirror behind you. He sets a harsh pace, his head ramming against your cervix at the sweetest angle from his position beneath you.

He manages to support you with the strength of only his vibranium arm as he brings his flesh hand between your bodies, once again massaging your clit in rapid circles as he fucks up into you.

You cum around his length in a shockingly short amount of time, digging your teeth into the flesh of his neck as he follows after you, filling you up with hot ropes of his cum.

You stay in the same position after you've both reached your climax, panting against one another in the claustrophobic feeling space.

“We should probably go find our friends,” you say breathlessly with a kiss to the side of his face. “Sam's probably getting sick of being a third wheel.”

He pulls out of you, his cum running down your thighs and ass cheeks. He gently lowers you back down to the ground as he begins to tuck himself back into his pants.

He laughs, cupping your face in his hands as he pulls your lips to his once again.

“If he hates being a third wheel, just imagine how much he's going to hate being a fifth wheel.”

[janitorhutcherson]

Marked Only for Me (Olderbf!Mike Schmidt NSFW)

hii!! okay, i have never written smut before, so i am begging you all to plz be patient with me! this is very long, so my apologies.this is a part of my olderbf!mike series, so hope u guys likeee. also, for this let's make the assumption mike went to college and all of that before his security jobs. he just had burn out and was there, hence why he's working for a major company with what would be little experience. anyways, lmk what u think!

summary: mike comes home and needs to blow off some steam

warnings: nudity, sex, name calling, hair pulling, choking, marking, possessiveness, an implied free use situation, fluff at the end!!

word count: 2,925

nsfw after the cut!!

You were sitting at the kitchen table doing homework in the home you shared with your boyfriend, Mike. You're 20, a couple of years into college, drudging through math problems that make your head feel like it's sitting inside a frying pan. You had to admit this wasn't your ideal way to relax after a 10-hour shift at the bookstore you helped run. Things had been hectic with Black Friday, your store doing a special sale where everything was 50% off, and bookworms were coming out of random corners to fill their already overflowing shelves for cheap. Of course, being younger, you were the one who had to do the grunt work, carrying piles of books to and from inventory, dealing with the more demanding customers as your older coworkers would tell you that they "just couldn't handle kids these days" and that it'd certainly be better for the younger one to do it. Luckily, though, Abby was at a friend's house, meaning you didn't have distractions. You were as focused as could be with a cup of coffee beside you, the sunlight that was once beaming through the cracks of the blinds now completely gone. You were focused, your brain functioning as much as it would with the problems. Things were quiet.

...That is until Mike stormed in. He was frustrated, angry, an invisible red-hot aura beaming off him. His hair was messier than it typically was. The softness in his eyes was instead replaced with a cold look. His eyebrows were furrowed together on his forehead, his jaw sharp and defined as he gritted his teeth. Although this wasn't common, it wasn't necessarily rare either. Mike worked for a publishing company as a marketing manager. He'd gotten the job after a few months of hard work to make up for the slack on his resume after working at the mall and the pizzeria. He moved up the ladder quickly, his company admiring his friendly attitude and his somewhat shy but personable behavior. He loved his job much more than his past ones. He felt happier, got more time off, was less stressed, and was definitely safer. Even with that being said, sometimes shit just pissed him off.

Today's big issue was a meeting with his marketing team, which also involved the big guy over his head. He felt like he was criticized, demeaned, dragged through the mud, and all in front of the team he was supposed to be respected by, listened to. On a typical day, this might not have pissed him off so much. He might've mentally plotted the demise of his boss, but he wouldn't have caused the outburst he did at work, and today had been particularly awful. He'd been late, burned his breakfast, knicked himself while shaving, and even gotten into what he considered to be a little fight with you the night before. Even though you'd both settled the argument, made up, and kissed before bed, he had been thinking about it all day. He'd then spilled coffee on his brand new tie, leaving a stain, and then... that happened. Mike snapped. He yelled at his boss, showing his ass in front of everyone, causing a meeting in his boss's office to end with an inevitable write-up. 

Now, he was home, trudging in all his bad energy, disrupting your study time. You couldn't even be frustrated with him, his demeanor proving he'd obviously had a bad day. You went to stand up to greet him with a hug, a kiss or two, but before you could, Mike stormed over to you, grabbing your arm harshly. You gasped, slightly thrown off by his sudden actions. He pulled you closer to him, his eyes locked on yours and his breath heavy against your neck.

"What the fuck, Mike?" you said, your eyebrows furrowed as you stared into his cold brown-green orbs.

"Listen to me," he grunted, his voice low and gravely. "I have had a very, very bad day, and I need you to be a good girl for me, okay? I don't want no shit, no back talk, you'll listen to what I say.. do you understand?" 

His hand still gripped your arm, his fingernails digging into your skin. You could feel yourself starting to drip, your panties feeling damp against your skin as your body buzzed with excitement. All you could do was nod your head, your eyes locked on his as they clouded over with lust. Mike snapped his fingers in your face, looking at you from underneath his eyebrows. 

"Use your words," he demanded. 

"Yes sir, I understand," you stuttered out, your cheeks flushing red. Mike's face was now pleased, his entire demeanor softening a little. His hand stayed wrapped around your arm as he tugged you into the living room, pushing you roughly onto the couch. You huffed from the impact, your eyes widening as Mike dropped to his knees before you. He slid your sweatpants off, prying your knees open to reveal your see-through pink panties soaked beyond belief. His eyes were hungry, his mouth open, almost drooling as he looked directly into your eyes. 

"All for me, babydoll?" he teased, his hand sliding in between your legs as he drew small circles around your clothed clit. You nodded your head as a whimper escaped your lips, the aching in between your legs only growing worse.

"What did I tell you?" he said, his words sharp as he smacked the inside of your thigh.

"Yes sir," you corrected, your words wavering after the impact from his hand. Mike nodded, satisfied with your answer, as he slowly slid your panties down your thighs, wasting no time. You gasped once again as the cold air hit your wet cunt. Mike exhaled sharply, taking a moment to admire you in front of him. His eyes trailed up to your pathetic look, your already-glazed-over eyes, down to your barely clothed chest, only a sports bra covering your breasts he loved so much, then down to in between your legs, where you were so wet, and all just for him. His lips trailed up to your tummy, sucking on the skin in different areas, from above your abdomen all the way up to right below where your sports bra stayed, purple marks forming.

He then dove in without hesitation, his large hands gripping your sides as he leaned in, moving one hand to take his index and middle finger to spread your pussy lips. His mouth instantly attached to your clit. You yelped as you bucked your hips forward, his lips meeting the sensitive area. Mike pinched your thigh, a sign to quiet down until he said to do otherwise, two of his fingers reaching out to be shoved into your mouth.

��Suck,” he demanded, his fingers going as far back down your throat as they could. You did what you were told, sucking on his fingers and drawing your own circles with your tongue. His tongue drew tiny and slow circles against the set of nerves, your hands reaching down to tangle in his hair from desperation. God, he loved eating you out. The way you yelped, quivered, shook underneath him, your hands tangled in his hair to keep yourself from going over the edge. He fucking loved it, you were the perfect cure to his anger, calming, something he could take it out on in a productive way that made everyone feel good. Your whines were suppressed as you bit your lip, your teeth digging into the softer skin. Mike pulled away for a moment, his eyes locking with yours once again as he admired your face, your now swollen lips.

“You know what, baby? Be as loud as you want for me now, princess,” he mumbled, going back to attacking your wet cunt. Slurping sounds filled the living room mixed with your moans and whimpers as his tongue slid up and down your slit, his lips wrapping around your clit to suck as hard as possible when his tongue wasn’t fucking inside of you. He moaned against you, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. His cock was rock hard inside of his work pants, his own face flustered as he rocked back and forth against himself. His tongue continued to lap at your clit as he slid two of his large fingers in and out of you, your walls clenching around them. You could feel yourself drawing close and Mike could tell. Your thighs attempted to clench around his head, but before they could his calloused hands pried them open, holding them apart. Just as your eyes began to clamp shut, your thighs shaking as the knot in your stomach started to untie, Mike pulled away. You gasped as he slipped his fingers out, furrowing your eyebrows as you stared at him with an angry glare. He chuckled as he stood up, raising his eyebrows up and down as he leaned down, his hand lifting your chin up.

“Poor baby, was all ready to finish for me, hm? You were gonna be ‘Mikey’s little slut,’ weren’t you? That’s what you tell me you are, right? My little slut?” he teased, no remorse behind his eyes. You huffed, punching his arm before crossing your arm, too out of it to say anything from the knot that remained in your stomach but too angry to take initiative.

“Awh, don’t be mad, princess,” he snickered, shaking his head as he leaned further down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “You really think I’m done with you?”

With that being said, Mike pushing you back on the couch. His right hand held you down as his lift struggled to unbutton his pants. He pulled his pants down, letting them fall around his ankles as he yanked his boxers off, his cock springing out. He stepped out of them, letting you go for a moment to unbutton his shirt before tossing it off as well. Mike then looked over to you, leaning forward, ripping your thin sports bra off of your chest, your breasts now exposed to him. He licked his lips, excitement overflowing his body. He crawled on top of you, attempting to make the two of you fit on the couch. His mouth attacked your nipples, biting and gnawing at your skin. His mouth moved up to your neck, sucking and prodding and biting until purple marks were left all around, ones you were all too aware would be impossible to hide later on. He moved down to your chest once again, marks all across your collarbone, your tits. Mike’s hands gripped onto your neck as he sat up, looking into your glossed over eyes. He pressed his lips to your ear, a soft kiss against your earlobe.

“’M about to fuck you so hard you see stars,” he said, his voice causing prickles to cover your skin. Then, without hesitation Mike slammed into you, his pace staggered. Your moans were as loud as could be, the sound of skin hitting against each other and the echoes of both of your voices filling the living room. His thrusts were sloppy as he felt himself starting to get close to the edge, his hands pushing your hips down and into the couch. Your entire body sunk into the cushions as he used everything in him, his cock abusing your poor cunt. You swore you saw stars until you felt his hand gently smack against your cheek, your eyes averting back to his gaze.

“You’re gonna look at me when I fuck you, princess,” he growled, his hand sliding up to your hair as he tugged. You grew close, clenching around his length, your thighs starting to shake. Your core was threatening to come undone.

“Fuck, Mikey, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum,” you whimpered out, closing your eyes as your head leaned back against the side of the couch.

“Cum for me, baby,” Mike stated. You did as he demanded, finishing around his cock as your liquids gushed against him. His thrusts grew sloppier before he pulled out, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“You’re such a good girl, you know that baby? You did so good for me, listening to what I said, letting me use your pretty cunt,” he stated, his thumb caressing your cheek. He then resituated, pulling you off the couch, pushing you onto the ground. You were now in the same position he was in earlier, completely fucked out. Your lips were dull from exhaustion, your cheeks red and your hair knotted in certain areas. Mike’s cock was directly in front of you, his hand guiding for you to suck on him. Your lips wrapped around his tip, the tip of your tongue licking his slit. You worked your mouth down his length, licking the sides. Mike’s moans became frantic, desperate as your mouth worked its magic. His hand tangled in your hair as he pushed your head up and down, thrusting up into your mouth.

“That’s it, baby, feels so good,” he grunted. With no warning, Mike pulled out, spilling his load all over your face. He twitched, his moans loud and low, your tongue stuck out to catch his cum. His body laid against the couch, feeling heavy as his head leaned against the back of his couch. A tired grin was on his lips as you also smiled up at him, licking yourself clean. Mike looked down at you, a chuckle releasing his lips. It was obvious all of the tension and anger was gone, as his once cold eyes were once again the soft loving brown they used to be. He looked at you with adoration, always amused by how gorgeous you were even after rigorous activity and getting your face painted.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, picking you up bridal style as he leaned down to kiss you, not caring about his own load that was now on his face. He sat you down on the bathroom counter, grabbing a washcloth out of the cabinet, running it under warm water. He started to wipe away all of the liquids covering your face, pressing kisses to your skin here and there, looking your body up and down as he admired all of the marks he left.

“You always know how to make me feel good and how to take care of me after,” you croaked out, your voice laced with exhaustion as you smiled. Mike smiled back at you, his hand tenderly touching your cheek before pushing your hair behind your ear.

“I love you, of course I want to make sure ‘m taking care of you,” he said softly. His lips once again pressed against yours. “Thank you for letting me… you know.. blow off some steam,” he said, wiggling his brows.

“Of course, honey. I was worried, though. Is everything okay? Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, leaning forward as you slid off of the counter, grabbing a new washcloth and beginning to wipe his face with it as well. Mike sighed, shaking his head as he looked at her with sad eyes.

“I just- I got into it pretty badly with my boss at work and got criticized, I felt like a wounded animal, like I had to fight. I’m so used to having to fight that I don’t know how to shut up and listen,” he mumbled. “It was so bad, Y/N, and I got written up after that awful day I had this morning… I just.. I don’t know. I do know I feel better now, and would feel even better if we cuddled for a bit and then went out for food?” he suggested, spilling his thoughts to you. You giggled, nodding your head as you reached up to press a kiss to him. You dragged him into your shared bedroom, the two of you cuddling up together under the blankets. You turned to your side, your eyes locked with his.

“I love you, Mike, so much. And I’m so, so unbelievably proud of you. Thank you, for always making me feel good too, for taking care of me, for being such a good brother to Abby, just… thank you,” you said softly. Mike looked back at you lovingly, his appreciation for you apparent.

“I love you, princess, you don’t even know how much,” he mumbled. His eyes were heavy. He leaned over and set an alarm for an hour from now, the two of you planning on a night of dinner out and grocery shopping. He curled his arm around you lazily, your body limp and exhausted against his as you yawned.

“Oh, and baby?” he asked. You hummed, lifting your head to meet his eyes. “Wear a crop top when we go out, I want everyone to see you all marked up.” You giggled as you laid your head down, drifting off to sleep.

When you two went out, you did just that, wearing a cropped scoop neck shirt with a low-rise flowy skirt. He showed off any marks you’d left, too, your possessive boyfriend holding you close anytime someone’s eyes linger too long. Mike was strange, possessive, and sometimes a little of what most would say was unsettling, but to you, he was the love of your life, the man who made you feel good, the one who fucked you until you couldn’t think. You loved him, and you always would, blessing you with a lifelong supply of angry sex and aftercare cuddles.

[vampyr-ss]

baby | s. getou

wc: 1.2k

other: chat this was a random thought so it's unedited this is brainrot.

warnings: dark content (stepcest) + non con kinda sorta + mating press + daddy kink + 'angel' + infidelity + creampie + breeding kink + squirting + pussy slapping + slapping + subspace + smut under the cut babe

geto knew your pretty little cunt couldn't take the pounding he wanted to give you. he's watched you walk around the house in those tiny fucking shorts with no panties. he's watched you lean over to pick something up in just your thong and a big shirt--his shirt. he doesn't even remember lending you any of his shirts.

his marriage to your mother is on the rocks because she's cheating on him. he knows this, you know this, and you've always thought he was attractive. you didn't care that they got married when you were 19, you don't care that he's 20 years older than you. you want him. your mother doesn't deserve him.

geto isn't an idiot, he knows you've been trying to fuck him. he didn't 'let it happen', he plotted on it. he waited until your mom left for work. he waited until her car pulled out of the driveway before he found himself practically charging into your room. you were still laying down in bed on your phone, silently giggling at whatever was on the bright screen.

he hadn't cared before what you were laughing at, and he sure as hell doesn't care now. all he needed was to fuck your throat, fuck you, and watch his cum ooze out of every hole he could possibly fill. a very reasonable ask if you asked him.

"the fuck are you crying for?" geto asks you as he watches the tears spill from your eyes. his feet are steadily on the bed and your legs dangle over his shoulders. your ass hurts from the previous slaps he'd adorned it with, but nothing beats the pleasure that ripples through your body when he slaps you across your face. "da- suguru i'm sorry!"

he tuts at you and his thrusts only get stronger. he wraps his hand around your throat for more leverage, and at this point he's basically throwing his body weight into his thrusts. the way your pussy clenches around him has him thanking god for you, for this cunt, for this life. he hasn't had pussy like this in years.

"-too much! 's too much suguru i can't daddy please! i feel like-" you pause to catch your breath since his hand is tight around your neck. another sob racks your body when geto slaps you again, anger building in his body. "feel like what? you're the one who kept bending over in front of me. you kept wearing those slutty ass panties so i could see a preview of this cunt." you shake your head in an attempt to deny everything he's saying but the both of you know it's true.

your pussy clenches at the thought of him watching you bend over and thinking about it later. did he think about it while fucking your mom? did he wish it was you instead? "i'm sorry! i'm sorry daddy!" you're practically screaming your pleas and geto takes the time to shift his free hand to rub at your clit. he wishes he could fuck your ass and watch your pussy clench around nothing because you don't even deserve his dick.

"my slutty stepdaughter, what am i gonna do with you angel?" you shake your head to say that you're not a slut but before you can say anything a loud moan rips from your throat. "that's it sweet angel." he purrs. "take it. this is what you wanted right? for your stepdaddy to fuck this tight cunt?" he frees your throat to wait for your response.

he leans over so he's closer to you, pressing wet kisses along your neck. "admit it. my sweet angel's just a fucking slut." you clearly haven't found your voice again because you just nod. geto tastes the tears as they run from your cheeks to your neck. "admit it or you won't cum. i'll make sure you get to the edge and then i'll pull out. i know how desperate this pussy is. sloppy fuckin' cunt." his hand comes down on your pussy for extra measure, a wet squelch following the slap to your cunt.

"yes! i'm just your slut daddy, please let me cum. i need it so bad!" your hands find purchase on his back and your pretty acrylics dig deep into his back. geto can feel the skin break a little and the pain somehow fuels him into pounding your pussy further. he can feel his orgasm get closer and closer with each thrust and with your pretty moans and the tightest cunt he's ever felt aren't helping it either.

geto laughs at your begging and adjusts so he's face to face with you. he glances over your face, taking in how swollen your lips and eyes are. your face is somewhat red from him slapping your cheeks and somehow he's harder than before. "good girl," he pauses to grin widely, "maybe i'll fill this pussy up and give you a baby. you can't leave me then, huh? can't leave your daddy for one of these stupid fucking college boys."

you shake your head in protest, your hands pushing at the bottom of his stomach to get him out of you. "no! no, please! i can't- how- no!" geto understands your questions even if you don't get them out properly. "i don't care, you can just tell your mom one of those frat boys knocked you up. i'll take care of you, angel. i'll divorce your mom to marry this perfect pussy." you cry out as he finishes his sentence, shifting your hips away from his as the knot tightens as far as it can go.

"stop running, angel. take daddy's dick, yeah? go ahead. cum for me." you shake your head again, because you know when you cum he'll cum with you. he'll cum inside of you and make you a mother. that isn't something you can truly explain. geto sighs heavily from above you, gripping your cheeks in his hand. "cum so i can make you a mommy, baby. cum so i can see my cum ooze out of your perfect pussy."

despite wanting to fight it your body convulsed under his. you lean up to kiss geto, crying out against his lips to no avail. your stomach shifts and a new sense of euphoria floods your senses. your pussy twitches as you cum, fluids spurting out against geto's pelvis and onto the sheets under the two of you. geto grunts against your lips, chanting your name like an unanswered prayer. he barely gets another thrust in before he's coming deep inside of you.

he continues short sharp thrusts into you, forcing more cum out of you and your orgasm to prolong. your legs are shaking on his shoulders, but he doesn't care. he's praying that this takes so he can finally leave your bitch of a mother. "atta girl, wasn't so bad was it? you gonna have my baby, angel?"

defeated, you nod as your eyes flutter open. geto smiles down at you, a sweet sincere smile that almost makes you forget who he is. you almost forget that this is wrong and that you could be pregnant with your step-dad's baby. "yes, daddy. i can't wait." you purr softly, smiling dreamily up at him before he kisses you softly.

[velarisdusk]

Ice Cold Jealousy

Hockey AU | Cassian x Reader

Series Masterlist -> Part 2 - Thawing Boundaries

word count: 8.3k content: [ explicit sexual content, PWP, unprotected PIV, rough sex, oral (m & f receiving), voyeuristic elements, possessiveness/jealousy, power dynamics, little bit of overstim?, hair pulling, dirty talk, humiliation?, biting, locker room sex (it's come to my attention that hockey locker rooms don't typically have lockers but just suspend your disbelief for a sec please), inapproproate touching, insinuation that Cass stares at Az's ass teehee | violence (physical altercation, reader not involved), blood mention, strong language | no beta we die like men ] summary: Despite the tension on the ice, your relationship with Cassian, the commanding captain of the Velaris Vipers, is anything but cold. His jealousy ignites when the rest of the team's flirtations become too much to ignore. In the aftermath of a disastrous game, the boundaries between playful teasing and intense passion blur, leading to a locker room encounter that challenges both your resolve and your control. author's note: WOW, okay, this is the first fic I've written for ACOTAR, and the first fic I've written in close to a decade, so excuse me if I'm a bit rusty :) I've been going through a hockey thing lately, watching random games on youtube in their entirety, so obviously that means I had to write Cass, duh. Sorry it's on the longer side; I just had lots of ideas... like only 3k of this is plot lmfao. Enjoy!

Cassian knows they’re fucked.

You can see it on his face. With two points down and precious little time left on the clock, they need a miracle. The referee skates to center ice, puck in hand. You lean forward, breath caught in your throat, as the Velaris Vipers take their positions. The air is thick with tension, the crowd’s roar fading into a dull buzz in your ears. You knew the Hewn City Hellhounds were good, but never imagined they’d pose this much of a problem. 

Cassian’s and Azriel’s eyes meet for a moment, a silent agreement passing between them. The puck drops, and its whereabouts for the seconds after are a mystery to you. After an unruly clash of hockey sticks and a mess of bodies, Cassian passes to Azriel on his left, who takes off down the ice with it. Cassian moves to mirror him on the opposite side of the ice. The Hellhounds’ defense closes in, but Cassian and Azriel move in perfect sync, the puck zipping between their sticks in a blur. They dance around the opposition, narrowly avoiding checks, their movements so fluid they don’t need to look to know where the other will be.

Just as Azriel is about to be boxed in by two defenders, a swift flick of his wrist sends the puck to Tarquin who’s come up to support them. You let out a sigh of relief, not even having seen him since he was back by the net. 

Why is he up here instead of back by the net? Eris should’ve been there; it’s his one job as a winger to support Cassian as center in making goals. You scan the rink, but don’t need to for long. He skates right up to you with an air of nonchalance, like he doesn’t need to be with the rest of his team fighting for their lives. You give him an incredulous look, about to open your mouth and shout at him when he gets to the wall, but the words catch in your throat when he blows a kiss, tracing a heart on the glass with a smirk. You gather yourself quickly, but before you can scold him his back is already turned and he skates back toward the action.

You’ve grown accustomed to the team’s teasing, knowing it’s all in good spirit. But with Eris, there’s always been an undercurrent of something more intense, more deliberate. As he skates away now, you can’t help but wonder, not for the first time, just how far he’d take things if given the chance. You’ll never admit it out loud, but the way he cuts directly in front of the opposing team’s defenseman to get him away from Tarquin is impressive with how absentminded it seems. 

Watching them, you reflect on the years you’ve spent at their games and practices. Not only have you witnessed their drastic improvement, but you’ve also grown close to the team. Perhaps too close, if the playful flirtations are any indication. 

Yeah, maybe ‘close’ was a bit…

But it wasn’t your fault. Really! A little over three years ago, Cassian invited you to their season opener, your relationship still fresh. You hadn’t known the first thing about the sport so obviously you spent hours watching videos and frantically looking up your countless questions to ensure you wouldn’t be entirely lost. Cassian had told you on the drive home that night that word had spread rather quickly through the Vipers about the hot girl in the stands. You knew. Hot, definitely, but dumb? Oblivious? No. Of course you noticed their showing off — the goalie’s glances after skilled saves, the wingers’ risky shots, the defensemen’s aggressive checks and subsequent winks, smiles, and waves from the penalty box.

You’ve often recalled their expressions when Cassian called into the locker room for them to come meet you, when they’d seen the object of their displays throwing her arms around their captain’s neck, planting a kiss on his sweaty cheek. You weren’t necessarily shy about looking at them in their various states of undress through the doorway; some shirtless, others holding a towel in front of themselves for modesty. But Cassian introducing you as his girlfriend didn’t stop their light-hearted remarks, though they were much less blatant now. For the most part. There was still the stray push of boundaries. Neither of you have ever told them to stop. Though you both enjoyed their feeble attempts, found them entertaining, there were times you noticed him get jealous, if his clenched jaw and reddening face were anything to go by.

Tarquin deftly maneuvers around an opponent with a small spin, sending ice shavings spraying, and you aren’t sure if the move is meant to distract or simply add some flourish. He looks up and winks at you with a nod. You roll your eyes with a small smile and the puck is once again in Cassian’s possession. He either doesn’t notice or simply doesn’t care. He drives forward, eyes locked on the goal. The goalie is ready, crouched and tense, but your boys have one last trick up their sleeves. 

Cassian pulls his hockey stick back and thrusts it forward with such determination that you’re sure he’s going to take the shot. But he stops just short of the puck and in an instant pushes it left and back, where Azriel is perfectly positioned. He doesn’t hesitate, slamming the puck into the net with a force that sends it rattling.

The red light flashes. Goal.

You shoot up and cheer, your shouts blending with those of the fans all around you. Previous to this, so overtaken with nerves, all you’ve been able to do is sit tight with your arms crossed, eyes darting wildly across the rink. The jovial energy doesn’t last long though. They’re still down a point, and with only a little over a minute left now, their only chance is somehow scoring and going into overtime. 

You scan the rink. The three forwards take their positions: Eris, red hair peeking from his helmet, grips his stick tightly at right wing; Azriel, ever the shadow to Cassian’s light, settles into place with calm readiness; and Cassian, commanding center ice with unmatched presence. Rhysand and Tarquin hover near the blue line, mirroring each other’s poised intensity on defense. If you were closer that way, you might be able to see their eyes darting across the ice, calculating every possible move. Helion stands sentinel before the net, gaze piercing and unwavering. Each a powerhouse, but none more commanding than Cassian at center ice.

His presence is commanding and magnetic. The weight of the game seems to rest on his broad shoulders, yet he bears it with a fierce determination you find both exhilarating and reassuring. His dark hair clings to his forehead, damp with sweat, and his eyes are locked on the opposition with a predator’s focus. You love this about him — the way he can command the rink with just a glance, the way his intensity electrifies the very air around him. 

Off the rink, he’s just as intense in a different way: reliable, attentive, deeply devoted. The moments you share away from the chaos — quiet dinners, late-night talks, and his arms holding you close as you get drunk off of each other’s wandering hands and lips for hours — are a stark contrast to the warrior before you now. It’s this duality, this balance of strength and tenderness, that never ceases to intrigue you. 

As the clock ticked down these last few plays, you could see the resolve settling in his eyes. He isn’t just playing for the team; he’s playing for you, for the life you’re building together. 

Another loud cheer from the crowd pulls you back in, and you notice the Hellhounds have taken back possession of the puck and are rapidly approaching Helion at the goal. Rhysand intercepts a pass and carries it around the back of the goal to shoot the puck forward along the side of the rink. Where Eris is supposed to receive it, the Hellhounds’ center intercepts and, guarded by a winger on either side, plows back down the ice towards the Vipers’ goal. Their wingers do a decent job of clearing a path for him. He takes the shot, and Helion miraculously changes the trajectory of the puck with a paddle save that has the audience roaring and up on their feet again. Tarquin tries to take back possession but isn’t there quickly enough. The Hellhounds still have it and go for the shot again, this time bouncing the puck off the crossbar and away from the goal. 

40 seconds left. 

Cassian and Rhysand guard against their opponents while Azriel and Tarquin skillfully maneuver the puck down the ice, right between people’s skates at times. Tarquin is incredibly nimble and light on his feet for a defenseman, conducting several moves that force gasps from your lips, worried something would go wrong. He makes a pass to Eris right as he gets shoved into the wall by the Hellhounds’ defense. 

26 seconds.

The redhead moves with a sort of confidence that seemingly makes the other team recoil momentarily. He commands the attention of every spectator, not only because he has possession but also because of his back-to-back evasions and fakeouts. 

18 seconds. 

Eris approaches the goal, all six opponents converging. Cassian skates up to the left, perfectly positioned for a play they’ve practiced countless times. A simple, effective strategy — Eris just needs to pass to Cassian for the shot. Cassian catches Eris’ eye, giving him a nod. He’s open. 

But Eris shakes his head. 

He backtracks, attempting to outmaneuver the defense. You glance at Cassian, seeing fury building in his eyes. Tarquin and Azriel are open too, but Eris isn’t looking that way. Rhysand and Helion wear expressions of anger tinged with resigned frustration.

6 seconds left. Eris circles behind the goal, clearly aiming to nudge the puck in around the post. You can already tell it won’t work — too many opponents, and Eris’ eyes are locked on you instead of the play. He slides the puck around the post and… straight into the goalie’s leg pads. 

2 seconds. Cassian and Azriel make a desperate rush, but it’s futile. You sit with a sigh, putting your head in your hands. The buzzer blares. Game over. Hewn City Hellhounds win, 5 - 4. 

You distantly hear the cries and shouts from the other side of the arena celebrating their team’s win, mingled in are the groans of frustration and defeat from around you. What the fuck was he thinking? They’d had the perfect opportunity. You look up just in time to see your boyfriend shove Eris into the wall a few feet down from where you sit, the glass letting you see just how his face smashes against it with the impact. The spectators around you cheer Cassian on, as they, too, are frustrated at the person who cost them the possibility of overtime.

Immediately after impact, Cassian skates back a few feet, throws his helmet and gloves off, and raises his fists. Eris mirrors the action after throwing down his stick. Cassian’s is discarded way back near the goal. There’s no going in circles to see who moves first; Cassian is on him, landing blow after blow to his face and head. His own face goes red with anger as he shouts what you assume to be chastising, scolding words at the other. You can’t hear anything above the crowd around you spurring him on. Across the ice, the rest of the team just watches, arms crossed and chests heaving. 

Eris finally gathers himself, landing a left hook to Cassian’s jaw. He takes the opportunity to pull him down a bit by the hair and uses his other hand to keep punching. The refs are finally on their way to break it up, but both of their blood has already spilled onto the glass and ice. You strain to catch their words, curiosity flaring as Eris’ eyes flick to you, his lips curling into that infuriating smirk. Whatever he said next had Cassian lunging forward with another barrage of punches. 

As the refs finally near them, you decide you've seen enough and navigate your way out of the stands to the locker room entrance just as you always have at the end of their matches. 

You’ve never seen him get like this. Sure, you’ve seen him get into a fight every now and then, after which he’d pout at you from the penalty box (if he wasn’t still too overcome with anger). But this? In-fighting? Never. He’s usually the one splitting the guys up. And though he gets into disagreement after disagreement with Eris, it’s never turned into this. You’re not even sure why it escalated so quickly — they’ve been doing really well this season and the playoffs are still months away. This was by no means a high-stakes game for them. 

Just as you cross your arms over your chest and lean against the wall across from the locker room door, you hear the familiar cacophony that comes with lost games. You prefer it to the times they come back silent — the times the car ride home goes by without a word exchanged. Those are few and far in between, though. 

The din of angry voices and clattering equipment grows louder as the team approaches. You straighten up, eyes fixed on the corridor’s entrance. When Cassian emerges, leading the group, your heart sinks. His jaw is clenched, gaze locked straight ahead with an intensity that makes you hesitate. 

Still, you take a few steps towards him. “Cass,” you start, your voice barely audible above the commotion.

He doesn’t even blink. Cassian strides past you, the heat of his anger almost palpable as he disappears into the locker room. The door slams shut behind him, leaving you staring at its blank surface. 

You're still processing when you feel a light touch at your waist. Azriel slides past you with a sympathetic nod. Helion follows, his hand ghosting across your lower back as he squeezes through. If you weren’t caught so off guard you may have leaned into their touch. Rhysand, ever the gentleman even in defeat, murmurs a quiet “Rough night, darling” as he moves around you.

“Think Cassian would mind if you played nurse?” Eris drawls, gesturing to his bruised face. He gives what would be a stunning smile if not for the blood staining his teeth. His eyes flicker to the locker room door, then back to you. “I promise I’d be a much more… grateful patient.” He lingers only a moment longer, and you’re sure he’d jump at the chance in a heartbeat if you gave the word, before sauntering into the locker room with a self-assured smirk.

You lean against the wall, arms crossed. The muffled sounds of frustration and anger seep through the locker room door, punctuated by the occasional crash of equipment being thrown. You check your phone, scrolling mindlessly through social media to distract yourself. Already, clips of the fight are circulating, fans dissecting every move, every punch. You decide to just put your phone back in your pocket. 

The shouting inside gradually dies down, replaced by the sound of running water. Showers. You find yourself straining to hear any indication of Cassian’s mood, wondering if the shower is doing anything to cool his temper. 

The corridor gradually empties as staff and other team personnel file out. You shift your weight from one foot to another, replying to texts to pass the time. The showers shut off one by one. You hear locker doors opening and closing, the murmur of subdued conversations. The guys eventually trickle out, hair still damp. They offer you tight smiles or brief nods as they pass, their usual post-game chatter noticeably absent. The weight of the loss and the fight hangs heavy in the air; even Eris walks past you without so much as a smirk.

“(Y/N).”

You feel your heart drop to your stomach at his tone — it’s commanding, and the raspiness from all the shouting in his already deep voice sends a conflicting shiver through you. It does nothing to calm your nerves, but ignites a different kind of tension altogether. You take a step off the wall as you respond.

“Yeah…?”

“Get in here.”

This better be fucking good, you think, but find yourself swallowing hard anyway. You push the door and step in, and if your breath wasn’t already stuck in your throat, you might have choked on it at the sight.

Cassian sits on one of the benches, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. His elbows rest on his knees, hands hanging loose between them, and his damp hair partially obscures his face as he stares down at his calloused fingers.

You take a few tentative steps, stopping a few paces before the bench. The door finally shuts behind you, the loud click echoing in the otherwise silent room. Neither of you speak for long enough that you feel like you should say something, but when you open your mouth-

“Sit. And listen to me very carefully.”

His voice is low and measured, but the underlying tension is palpable. You lower yourself onto the bench across from him, heart pounding. His eyes lock onto you, dark and intense. He stands, closing the distance between you in two long strides. His towel now hangs dangerously low on his hips as he looms over you, still sitting on the bench.

“That game,” he growls, “was a disaster.”

You can feel the heat radiating from his skin, still flushed from the shower, as he leans down, placing his hands on either side of you on the bench. You have to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. His face is inches from yours, breath warm on your cheek.

“Eris blew it,” he continues, voice low and rough. “But y’know what? It wasn’t just him. The whole team was off today.” He leans in closer, his breath ghosting your ear. "And I think I know why."

He pulls back slightly, just enough to look you in the eyes. His gaze roams over your face, over your surprise laden eyes, lingering on your lips before snapping back up.

"I saw the way they kept looking at you," he murmurs so quietly you can hardly hear him. "Tarquin missing easy passes, Azriel fumbling checks he'd usually nail." His free hand comes up to brush a strand of hair from your face, the touch feather-light and sending shivers down your spine. "Even Helion let in shots he'd normally block without breaking a sweat.” You can feel the tension coiling in Cassian's body, see the muscle in his jaw working as he clenches it. 

"It's getting to be too much," he says, the hand that brushed your hair back now on your chin, tilting your face up to his. "The guys can't focus when you're here." His thumb brushes across your lower lip, and you can’t help but part your mouth open a bit at the touch. "Maybe I need to stop bringing you to these things. If you're going to keep distracting the team like this..."

His gaze intensifies, dark eyes boring into yours. He’s so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on your lips as he speaks.

"We can't have that, can we, baby?"

The notion is absurd. Stop going to his games? Your brows furrow as you look at him incredulously. “That’s hardly my fault-”

“Didn’t I tell you to sit and listen!?” He shouts suddenly, his grip on your chin tightening. Your eyes shoot wide open, but not in surprise.

In understanding. 

He’d never really talk to you like this, you both knew that. This was one of his games. And, oh, how you so loved playing them. 

You keep the smirk from tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Funny, I thought you liked it when all eyes were on me.”

“I like it when they look. I don’t like it when they forget their place.”

Your breath catches, a mix of anticipation and desire. You can see the fire in his eyes, the barely contained jealousy and possessiveness. You lean in slightly, testing the boundaries. “And what exactly is their place, Cassian?” you ask, your voice low and teasing. “More importantly, what’s mine?”

His eyes narrow at your challenge, a dangerous smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He releases your chin, only to trail his fingers down your neck, coming to rest at your collarbone. The light touch leaves goosebumps in its wake. “Their place?” His eyes harden slightly. “To play hockey. Nothing more. I bring them some eye candy out of the kindness of my heart, and how do they repay me? By letting themselves get distracted and costing us games.” A sharp exhale.

“Your place?” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that you feel more than hear. Without warning, his hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair. The sudden grip is firm but not painful. Cassian steps over the bench in one fluid motion, his hold on you guiding you to turn with him. You instinctively follow his lead, twisting on the bench to face him and rising as he pulls you close. His movements are firm as he turns you both and directs you backward, until you feel the cool press of metal against your shoulders. With a gentle but insistent pressure, he keeps you pinned there, pushing his hips against your own. His eyes lock onto yours as he leans in, closing the distance between your lips.

The kiss is nothing romantic. It’s pure lust, disguised as frustration, as consequation. Where his words were clearly deliberate, his actions feign abandon. You match his intensity, your lips moving against his with equal fervor, your body arching into his touch. The grip on your hair remained, his other hand sliding slowly from your hip to your waist, then up again to your chest. He was like a starved man, grabbing onto whatever flesh he could get his hands on. The hand you didn’t have snaked around the back of his neck desperately explored every valley of his bare torso, products of his years playing the sport. 

The sounds of heavy breaths and locking lips fill the room, grunts following not long after. Cassian lets out an especially depraved groan, rolling his head back, when you slide your hand down to squeeze him through the precariously wrapped towel. But when you move to pull it off, his own hand swats yours away.

“With what you did tonight, you think that’s allowed? You think you decide how this goes?” His words hang in the air, heavy with implication. You pause, processing his question, the sudden shift.

“What I did tonight?” you manage, your voice slightly breathless. “I didn’t do anything.”

Cassian’s laugh is low and humorless. “Didn’t do anything? Sweetheart… don’t play innocent.” His fingers tighten in your hair, making you suck in a sharp breath through your teeth. “Every cheer, every jump, every little gasp… You put on quite the show, didn’t you?” He leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “And don’t think I didn’t notice the way your eyes stuck to Eris. Tell me, did you like it when he blew you that kiss?” 

Yes.

His gaze continues to burn into yours, a mix of jealousy and desire, as if he could somehow read the response in your eyes. “You’ve got the whole team wrapped around your finger and you know it.”

You steel yourself, meeting his gaze with an intense one of your own. “And so what if I do?” you challenge, voice steadier now. “I’m not responsible for how your team reacts to me. If they can’t keep their eyes on the game, maybe that’s on them.”

You lean in slightly, mimicking his earlier movement. “Or maybe it’s on you, Captain. Shouldn’t you be able to keep your team focused?” Something dangerous flashes through his eyes.

“You’re pushing boundaries you don’t fully understand.”

“Or maybe I understand them better than you think.” Your voice is steady despite the thrumming of your pulse.

“Understand this, then.” Your stomach flips. His eyes narrow, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “Stirring up my team? That’s a direct shot at me, at my authority.”

You scoff, feigning incredulity. “Authority? If you had any authority, do you think they’d look at me the way they do, touch me the way they do?” A pause. “Did you think it ended with the showboating? No, baby, they put their hands on me so often I’m starting to forget what yours feel like.”

Of course he knew, noticed it early on and said nothing after discovering that neither of you truly minded. 

“Helion seems to enjoy putting his hand on my lower back when he moves around me for a chance to ‘slip’ and cop a feel,” you continue. “Ever notice how Rhys almost always greets me with a hug? Squeezes me? Oh! And the way-”

“Enough.” Cassian’s voice cuts through your words like a blade, low and sharp. The hand that doesn’t still have a fistful of your hair in it shoots out to grasp the junction of your neck and shoulder, his calloused fingers feel like they’re searing into you. “You think I don’t see it all? See how they undress you with their eyes? How their fingers itch to trace every curve they imagine beneath your clothes?”

You feel a slight downward pressure, pushing on your shoulder, pulling on your hair. “But here’s what you’re missing, sweetheart. They might play at ownership, but at the end of the day, who do they answer to?”

He pulls back slightly, to really take in the sight of you. “Who do you answer to when the game’s over and the lights go down?”

The question hangs in the air between you. You can feel the heat radiating off his body. Cassian’s gaze intensifies, his grip on your hair and shoulder tightening. “Because make no mistake,” he continues, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, and the downward force he’s inflicting on you growing steadily. “This little game you’re playing? It ends when I say it does.”

The pressure on your shoulder increases, his intent clear. You resist for a moment longer, but the fire in his eyes, the set of his jaw… His command is clear. Though you have half a mind to resist, a thrill runs through you, making your heart beat faster and your breath hitch slightly. The sheer possessiveness in his gaze is enough to make your knees weak. 

Slowly, inexorably, he guides you downward, your body responding almost involuntarily to the authoritative tone and the heat of his voice. You look up at him from your new position, the sight of him towering over you sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes hold yours captive as he looms above you. You’re aware of how your breathing quickens with anticipation, how Cassian’s throat bobs as he watches you. He’s still holding your hair, and you can tell he’s enjoying the submission he’s coaxed from you, his gaze a mix of satisfaction and barely restrained desire.

That grip tightens a fraction as he leans into you, his other hand coming up to cup your jaw, his thumb tracing a path along your lower lip, but different from before. Where his last touch there had been gentle and barely there, this one is firm and deliberate.

Cassian’s voice, when he finally speaks, is low and rough. “Open,” he commands, the single word laden with authority and promise.

You shudder as his command rolls over you, your body responding without conscious thought. Your lips part slightly in response to his order. His gaze is fixed intently on your face. “That’s it,” he murmurs, his gaze unwavering. His thumb traces along the curve of your lower lip with deliberate slowness, a firmness matching that of his eyes. For a heartbeat, he applies the gentlest pressure, slipping it into your mouth for a moment, his eyes locked on yours. “Now be a good girl and stay just like that for me.”

You hold yourself still, holding his gaze as you keep your mouth open, your tongue instinctively darting out to moisten your lower lip when he pulls his hand away. He finally releases your hair and it���s an effort to contain your sigh of relief. You hear more than see the towel fall from his hips to the floor. The same fingers that gripped your face moments ago now wrap around his girth, absently stroking the already-hard length of it. His pupils are dilated at the sight of you obediently holding yourself still, your mouth open, and he can barely restrain the hunger that’s been building in him.

Cassian’s large hand cradles your jaw, drawing you even closer. His presence is overwhelming, and as he aligns himself with your mouth, there’s no warning before he thrusts in. Initially, his movements are slow, almost deceivingly gentle, but you realize too late it’s quite the opposite. Halfway in, you manage, but as he pushes to the hilt, he does so painfully slowly. You try to relax, your throat attempting to accommodate him. The slow withdrawal is worse, your breath ragged as you inhale through your nose.

He pulls out slowly, leaving you gasping for air. He looks down at you with a mix of confusion and pity. “Look at you,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Struggling already. I thought you could handle more.”

You meet his gaze, eyes watering but defiant. You want to tell him that you can, that he knows you can, but when you make to speak, the corner of his mouth twitches in a smirk, and he pushes back in, a little faster this time. “Is this what you wanted, baby? To be on your knees, taking me like this?”

He thrusts deeper, making you choke slightly. Cassian groans, a low rumble of a sound that reverberates through you. “That’s why you acted out, distracted my guys, huh? You just wanted me to give you a little attention.” He picks up the pace, each thrust more forceful yet. “Bet you think about this all the time,” he growls. “When you’re watching us play, you’re not watching the game, are you? No… You’re staring at Azriel’s tight, perfect ass, aren’t you? I see the way you watch him.” You can only moan in response. Cassian’s fingers slip into your hair on either side, holding your head back against the lockers, his movements becoming relentless. 

“And don’t think I haven’t noticed the way your eyes go to Helion between plays, when he takes his helmet off. You love how big he is, how powerful. You get off on watching him, don’t you?” The tension between you both is palpable, but his eyes are fixated on you, a storm of emotions swirling within them. “I see you staring whenever any of them are in the penalty box. You’re not thinking about the game then, are you? Bet you wish you were in there with them. You’re probably thinking about Tarquin’s pretty blue eyes, you want him to pin you with that look, don’t you? Or Rhys’s hands, wanting them all over you. And Eris,” he spits out the name, pairs it with a particularly rough thrust of his hips. “You eat up the way he flexes his arms when he flirts with you, I know you do.” The locker room fills with the sounds of your shared breaths, the slap of skin against skin, and the harsh whisper of his voice.

Each name, each accusation, sends a wave of shame through you. You want to deny it all, but Cassian’s relentless pace and your restrained position make it impossible. The truth is, you do think about those things — more often than you’d ever admit. The thoughts swirl in your mind, but they never take away from the attention you give Cassian. You’re most often fixated on him during games, your eyes unabashedly stuck on the way his body moves. The powerful stride of his legs, the way his strong hands grip the stick, the intense focus in his eyes. Your mind almost always lands on thoughts of his sweat-slicked skin, the hard lines of his body beneath the uniform. Your desire for him gets overwhelming, which is why the current activity is typically the one of choice after these games. 

This was the first time you hadn’t waited until home though.

He continues, his movements relentless. “You know what Eris told me out there, baby? Who am I kidding, of course you don’t, you were too busy entertaining the rest of the guys, isn’t that right?” You try to respond, but choke on his length, his brutal pace bruising the back of your throat. “Isn’t that right? Answer me (Y/N),” he growls, keeping your head firmly pressed against the lockers.

You try to answer, but all you can manage is an unintelligible garble, gagging as you attempt to speak. If there weren’t already tears in your eyes from the physical strain, there certainly would be after hearing his cold, short laugh.

“Can’t even own up to it,” Cassian tsks. “He told me that you,” he punctuates the ‘you’ with a particularly deep thrust, “have been running around telling them all how badly you want them. That you give them fuck-me eyes when I’m not around. Is that true, baby? Have you been going behind my back? Want them to pass you around and take turns with you?” At each question he pulls almost all the way out, slamming back in soon after. You manage a quick shake of your head before his grip tightens on it again. You can only look up at him with your tear-brimmed, pleading eyes. “No, I didn’t think so,” he murmurs, a thumb grazing soothingly across your cheek. You may have taken comfort in it if you didn’t know any better.

“I knew you wouldn’t say those things,” he says calmly, but suddenly pulls himself out and leans over you, forcing your head up to look at him. “But you think them, don’t you?” 

You’re still trying to gasp in air as you fight to respond. “No,” but you don’t sound convincing. Not when your voice is so hoarse. “No, I promise, I never said those things — never thought them either.” You’re coughing, trying to regain your composure, and you’re grateful he gives you a moment.

“Take off your pants,” he orders suddenly, the command sending a jolt of anticipation through you. You stand slowly, and your hands tremble slightly as you obey, slipping out of your pants and kicking them aside. His eyes rake over your body, lingering on the sight of his jersey hanging loosely on you, the contrast between the oversized shirt and your bare legs making his pupils dilate with desire. “Keep it on,” he adds when you reach for it. Cassian leans forward, now eye-level with you.

 “Come on,” he breathes out, a hand snakes under the jersey and onto your bare hip, those calloused fingers squeezing. “You can’t honestly tell me you don’t think about them. How their hands would feel if they were running up your thighs, grabbing your hips, pulling you close.” His actions mirror his words deliciously, and his words pour over you in a dangerous whisper, the heat of his breath against your ear sending a shiver down your spine.  “About how it would feel to have their hands squeezing and groping you wherever they wanted. How about if instead of stealing little touches here and there, they grew some fucking balls, grabbed you by the hips,” his fingers dig in firmly, and you catch him tilt his chin to his shoulder, a glimpse of his true nature shining through the silent signal to grab on, “and lifted you up like this?”

You barely have a moment to grab on when, with a swift, powerful motion, Cassian lifts you up, pressing you against the lockers. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and your arms around his neck as he holds you there, his body pinning yours and his hands holding you up by your ass. The cold metal of the lockers contrasts with the heat from both of your bodies. You try to arch away from it, but only manage to push yourself flush against him, feeling the undeniable hardness of him pressing against your core, a reminder of how desperately you both want this. The sensation sends a jolt of electricity through you, making you gasp and tighten your grip around his neck.

You want to deny it, to insist that your thoughts are innocent, but the intensity of his gaze tells you he wouldn’t believe you. You swallow hard, the taste of him still lingering on your tongue, as you shake your head once more, more for your own reassurance than his. 

“It’s not like that…” you plead, trying to catch your breath, eyes wide with a mix of defiance and vulnerability. “I—” Your voice falters, the words stuck in your throat. “You don’t understand.”

Cassian’s eyes narrow, his grip tightening ever so slightly. You knew there would be bruises later. “Enlighten me,” he growls.

You take a breath. “When I watch you out there, all I can think about is how much I want you,” you confess. “The way you move, the way you lead and command everything… It drives me crazy. They’re just petty distractions. You’re the one I can’t resist. The one I crave,” you assure him, moving the stray hair from his eyes. “You’re the one I want, Cassian. Only you, you know that.”

His expression softens, as do his fingers on your skin, his intense gaze seeming to melt as he absorbs your words. He leans in closer, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with your own. “Maybe you’re right,” he murmurs, his voice tender, almost vulnerable. “Maybe I’ve been too harsh.” A hand rubs your side soothingly under the jersey, making its way up to massage your breast.

You smile softly, but just as you begin to feel a sense of relief, his grip on you tightens again, a bit painful on your breast. There’s a familiar, dangerous glint in his eyes. “But then again,” he whispers, “I can’t just ignore the way you look at them, baby. I can’t let that go with a few sweet words from those pretty lips of yours,” he catches your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling softly before releasing it. “You like their attention, being desired by them. Just admit it.”

You hesitate, your mind torn between denial and the undeniable truth. Unable to look him in the eyes, you nod slowly. Your voice is barely a whisper when you speak. “I do…”

“That’s what I thought,” he murmurs, voice low and pensive. He presses you harder against the lockers, his hands roaming over you slowly, almost absently. “Enjoy it all you want, but don’t you dare let them think they have a chance. You know who I mean.”

Your heart races as you nod, whispering, “Eris.” It was obvious. 

Cassian frowns. “It wasn’t a question,” he snaps. “I let you play these pathetic little games of yours, but don’t think for a second that it’s an invitation to have another man’s name on your lips while I’m inside you.”

With a sharp, forceful movement, he thrusts into you, the suddenness making you cry out, the sound bouncing through the tiled room. “Do you understand?” he demands, and you nod again, vigorously this time, a soft whimper escaping your lips at the fullness. 

Without another word, he finally captures your mouth in a fierce, possessive kiss, his tongue gliding over yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless. His hands slide down to your thighs, and he begins to move against you. There was nothing soft or caring about it, the motions unyielding and powerful. His hands grip you tightly as he fucks you into the cold metal of the lockers, his thrusts hard and deep. 

“Is this what you wanted?” His voice is harsh and taunting. “To be fucked like this, right here where anyone could walk in? You think about this every time you see them, don’t you?” That’s when you remember that you are, in fact, in a place where anyone could find you like this. A blush rises to your cheeks at the realization, and you can tell he gets off on your embarrassment when he fails to suppress a smirk. You try grounding yourself by grabbing him wherever you can, hands out of his hair and grasping at his shoulders, nails digging in. “I know you like teasing them,” he continues, voice little more than a rumble. “Making them think they have a chance. They’ll never have you like this, (Y/N).”

His pace quickens, and he speaks into your neck. “Tarquin mentioned how you blush every time he catches you staring. What do you think about when you look at him, hm?” But you’re a mess, so lost in pleasure you can hardly process he’s asked you a question until he bites down on the crook of your neck. He doesn’t wait for your response, however, before he continues. “And Helion said you can’t keep your eyes off his arms. Is that what you want? You want his arms wrapped around you?” He changes his rhythm suddenly, now pulling out all the way to the tip before ramming back in. 

“Do you understand how fucking embarrassing it is,” he starts, voice cold, barely heard over your screams and moans, “to have my team—my friends—telling me how they catch you practically drooling at them, that you’d take them over me if you got the chance?” You shake your head adamantly at that. 

“No, Cass, you know that isn’t true!” You try to keep your voice even, to be taken seriously, but the lewd sounds in the air of him pounding your soaked, dripping cunt don’t do anything to help. It’s hard to continue when he leans down and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue dancing across the sensitive skin. “No one could fuck me as good as you do,” you breathe out, and you hope the moans cutting through your words are indication enough of it. “You’re the only one I want, the only one who makes me feel like this,” you manage to say between gasps. “They mean nothing compared to you.”

He appears to consider your words and you think he might be convinced, but nothing changes. Other than, perhaps, the smirk on his lips. “You know what Azriel told me while he was leaving? He asked if I needed any help with you in here. Can you believe that, baby?” His thrusts grow even more intense. “He had the nerve to ask me if he could join in…” A scoff. “As if I’d let him touch you. As if I’d share you with anyone else.”

“Don’t want anyone else,” you murmur, eyes going unfocused from the overwhelming sensation of it all, but he speaks over you, seemingly not having heard you. Nevermind the thought that they all likely knew what would transpire in this room after they left. You hoped it was only Azriel, with how observant he was.

“I can’t blame him though, can’t really blame any of them. It’s not their fault you’re such a sneaky fucking tease. It’s a wonder they don’t feel entitled to you yet…”

His words sting, but they also go straight to your cunt, and you feel yourself clench around him. His possessiveness, his dominance — it’s intoxicating. You try to respond, but your breath is practically forced out of your lungs with a loud moan as his pace quickens again. 

“Look at you,” he continues, his voice dripping with anger and desire. “Barely able to form a sentence. Does it turn you on, knowing they all want you? Knowing that I’m the only one who gets to have you like this?”

You manage a shaky nod, and quip back. “I know it turns you on, how much you keep mentioning them.” It catches him off guard, your short moment of lucidity. For a brief second, he stills, eyes widening in surprise before narrowing again, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh, you think you’re fucking clever,” he murmurs. “I know what you’re doing,” his nails dig into your skin as he thrusts into you, making you cry out, “and it won’t work.”

He shifts slightly, angling his hips to hit a spot inside you that makes you gasp in pleasure, hands scrambling for purchase on him, on the lockers, on yourself. The sound echoes through the locker room, mingling with the existing ones. 

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, I’m all yours, Cassian. Only yours, please!”

He groans, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. “Good girl,” he murmurs, his tone softening for just a moment before he resumes his relentless pace. “Again. Louder.”

“I’m yours!” you cry out desperately. “Only yours!” You find yourself wondering if there’s anyone left in the building, if they can hear you. You subsequently decide you don’t care. His eyes flicker down to the jersey number stretched across your chest, and a satisfied smirk forms across his lips. “Look at you, wearing my number,” his eyes are full of pride. 

You nod, lips parting with a moan. “Wanted to show everyone who I’m here for. I belong to you, Cassian.”

“Damn right, you do,” he mutters, his movements becoming more desperate than forceful. You know your boyfriend well enough to know he’s getting close. Each thrust, combined with that knowledge, sends waves of pleasure through your body. “I want to hear you, baby,” he demands, his voice strained with need. 

“Cassian!” you scream, your voice hoarse, broken by moans and cries. “Cassian, please!” 

His breath puffs against your neck as he groans your name in return. The sound of your combined moans and skin against skin echoes off the walls. And with a particularly powerful thrust, he empties himself into you, your cries mingling when he doesn’t stop. 

“That’s it, baby,” you whisper to him, running your hands through his hair soothingly, coaxing him through his orgasm. He shudders against you, his grip on you gradually loosening. For a moment, he rests his forehead against yours, panting heavily, his breath ragged. As the adrenaline rush fades, Cassian’s breathing slows, the intensity in his eyes softening. Slowly, he pulls out, leaving you feeling achingly empty.

But before you can protest, he lowers you to the ground, drops to his knees, and pulls one of your legs over his shoulder to rest your foot on the bench behind him. His hands slide down your thighs, feeling the mix of your arousal and his seed. “You didn’t think I’d leave you like this, did you?” he murmurs, voice filled with a renewed hunger. His mouth descends on you without warning, his tongue gliding over your sensitive flesh, tasting both of you. The sudden jolt of pleasure makes you gasp, your hands flying to his hair as he works you. 

Cassian looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire as he devours you. “You taste so fucking good,” he says against you, the vibrations against your clit drawing a moan from you. His tongue works with relentless precision, each flick and swirl drawing out gasps and moans from you. His hands grip your thighs firmly, keeping you steady as he devours you. You can feel the roughness of his calloused fingers digging into your skin.

You clutch at his hair, your fingers tangling in the damp strands as you pull him closer. You rut your hips against his face, seeking more pressure, more friction. Every movement of his tongue sends shivers up your spine, your body responding to him with a need that borders on desperation. He knows exactly how to push you, bringing you close before pulling back, leaving you teetering on the brink of insanity. 

His eyes lock onto yours, filled with a fierce determination. “I want to hear you,��� he murmurs against your sensitive flesh, his breath hot and tantalizing. “Say my name.”

“Cassian,” you moan, your voice trembling with the intensity of your need. “Please, don’t stop.”

He smirks, lips curving against you as he doubles his efforts. His tongue plunges deeper, his hands squeezing your thighs tighter as he pulls you even closer. You can feel the building pressure, the coil of pleasure tightening inside you, ready to snap. 

“Good girl,” he whispers. “Good fucking girl… Come for me.”

With those words and a final flick of his tongue, you shatter, your orgasm crashing over you. Your body convulses, your cries echoing off the tiled walls as you ride out the waves of pleasure. Cassian doesn’t stop, his tongue continuing to lap at you, drawing out every last bit of your release until you’re a trembling, boneless mess in his arms.

Finally, he pulls back, his lips glistening with a mix of your juices and his satisfaction. You feel his warmth spilling out of you, trickling down your thighs as he rises to his feet. His eyes blaze with a dark, possessive fire as he takes in your thoroughly spent form. There’s no need for words; the look in his eyes tells you everything you need to know.

Remember this, his look seems to say. Remember what happened here. 

You meet his gaze, your own eyes still hazy with the aftermath of your climax. There’s no need for further declarations or reassurances; the intensity of what just transpired speaks for itself.

[think-like-a-poet]

Can you do yapper Max where he comes back from night out and is drunk. Reader tries to help him get ready for bed and he just tells her the most random things

Drunk yapping

Max verstappen x reader

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰

You were seated on the couch, blanket firm in your hands as the tenth plot twist happened in your horror movie. A soft yell left your mouth by the look of a couple cut of limbs as the scene became black. The music added a high suspense to the whole movement as you wanted to look away. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to watch it alone and without Max home, you thought.

The camera moved to an abandoned staircase as the music became louder and louder. Just when a door moved open and a face came out, a knock on the moved your attention away. You paused it and got up from the couch to walk towards the door. Looking trough the eye whole you saw Daniel holding Max in his hands.

You smile as you open up the door. Max was losely hanging into Daniels side as he kept on rambling his mouth. Daniel looked a bit irritated, but his smile was as big as ever. "Hi, y/n. I am sorry if I woke you, but Max is being a pain in my ass." you laughed as you made room for Daniel to walk inside. The Australian throws Max on the couch and a loud giggle is heard from your boyfriend.

"Don't worry. I know how Max is when he has a bit too much to drink. I hope he wasn't too annoying." you walked towards the kitchen to grab two glasses of water, Daniel may be less drunk but it was clear he had something to drink too. He thanked you as you gave him a glass of water before moving to sit next to Max.

You held out the glass of water for Max to grab. Max grabs the glass of water and shoots it down his throat like a shot. He sets the glass on the table with trouble and he groans before laying his head in your lap.

Daniel laughs at his friend's antics before walking to the door, "I leave you alone. Carlos is waiting for me in the car. And no, he did not drink." you wave him goodbye and you are left alone with your drunken boyfriend.

"Did you have fun?" you move your fingers through his hair and he nods. Max looks so pretty like this. His hair is ruined and standing in every way, his cheeks are flushing red and the top buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned. He always get it hot when he drowns his third G&T of the night.

"Very, but I did miss you. No one wanted to talk to me." Max pouts and you let out a little laugh at the adoring side. "Every time I said something, they moved away."

You stood up from the couch, "You can tell them to me while we get you ready for bed." Max face lits up and he stands up next to you. He stumbles a bit over his feet and you are quick to grab him by his arms. Together you walk to the bedroom as Max begins to speak.

"There was a cat tonight. I don't know how he made it inside, but he walked up to me, so of course I had to cuddle with him. Did you know cats have 30 teeth. I accidentally moved too close to a place he didn't like and I felt his teeth and you saw like a lot. I didn't hurt, he couldn't help it. " Max rambled and you listened closely to what he said. Of course the first thing was about cats, when didn't he talk about cats?

You helped him sit down on a chair in the corner of the bedroom and walked to the dresser to grab some pajamas. " I did not know they had 30 teeth. It is a surprise you didn't take him home."

"I wanted to, but a security person grabbed it from my hands to bring it outside. I couldn't find him after." Max answered with a sad tone. You saw how he had tried to untie his shoes, but the ties were now pulled fast instead of lose. You shook your head and knelt down you untied them. Max had to keep himself from falling backwards as his eyes close from the busy night.

"People always think cats like milk, but they are actually lactose intolerant. They aren't able to digest the lactose and if they have too much they will be vomiting. Of course a little bit wouldn't hurt too much, but too much is bad for them." Max slurred over his words as you finally pulled off his shoes. "Thank you,"

"Also i read somewhere that animals can have a different time feeling then humans. Smaller animals need more time to progress the movements and time will be slower for them. Like a lizard has slower time then a cat, but a tiger would be further in time than a cat. So technical animals and humans live in different time zones."

"That's strange. That they all live in different moment of time. " you answer while pulling his shirt over his head. "Hands up," you say and Max arms shoot in the air, almost hitting your face by accident, but he is too tired to see. You laugh as you try to pull on his pajama shirt, wich you know if going to be thrown of in the middle of the night when he has it to warm.

After some time Max had finished his teeth and was now sitting on the edge of the bed while you put on your pajama. "Thank you for helping me."

"No worries." you kiss his head and he pulls you in for a hug. "Lets get some rest tonight."

[florawrites-blog]

Shared moments - enhypen

-random moments where you and enhypen show affection to each other

Lee heeseung - 이희승

Scene 1

It had been a long, exhausting day. The tension in the air was palpable as you stood in the dimly lit room, your thoughts racing. Heeseung had been watching you closely, his concern evident in his eyes. Without a word, you suddenly leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a moment of pure impulse.

Heeseung froze, completely taken aback by your unexpected kiss. His breath hitched as he rested his forehead against yours, trying to process what had just happened. His heart pounded in his chest, and he found himself breathing heavily, caught between surprise and a surge of deep affection.

Unable to resist any longer, Heeseung gently cupped your face with both hands, his fingers brushing against your skin as he pulled you closer. This time, it was his turn. He kissed you, softly at first, but with growing passion, pouring all his love into that single, tender moment.

When he finally pulled back, his gaze met yours, filled with warmth and something even deeper. "I wasn't expecting that," he whispered, a soft smile playing on his lips. "But I'm so glad you did."

Scene 2

Heeseung was focused on washing the dishes, humming a soft tune under his breath. The kitchen was quiet, with only the sound of water running and dishes clinking lightly against each other.

You couldn’t resist the playful idea that popped into your mind. Sneaking up behind him, you gently patted him on the hip "thanks baby girl for doing the dishes" . Heeseung froze for a moment, utterly shocked. Then, a burst of laughter escaped him, the kind that filled the entire room with warmth.

He turned to you, still laughing, eyes sparkling with amusement. "Did you really just call me baby girl and patted my ass?" he asked, his voice full of playful disbelief.

You grinned, enjoying the moment. "I did. Just wanted to remind you that you deserve to be treated like royalty too."

Heeseung shook his head, still chuckling, as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "I never know what to expect with you, but I love it."

Park jongseong - 박종성

Scene 1

You were sitting comfortably between Jay's thighs, your back resting against his chest as he gently blow-dried your hair. The warm air felt soothing as it flowed through your damp strands, and the rhythmic sound of the dryer was almost hypnotic.

With your novel open in your lap, you began to read aloud a passage that had caught your attention. “Listen to this,” you said, your voice soft. “The protagonist just found out that the person she’s been searching for her entire life was right beside her all along.”

Jay smiled as he focused on your hair, the warmth of your words and the dryer mixing together. “Sounds like a good twist,” he remarked, his voice filled with interest.

You nodded, continuing to read a little more before pausing to explain the characters and plot twists, sharing your thoughts and predictions. Jay listened attentively, occasionally adding his own comments, even though he wasn’t as familiar with the story.

The cozy moment between you two felt intimate, filled with warmth and shared interests. Jay's gentle care with your hair and his genuine interest in your novel made you feel cherished and understood.

Scene 2

Jay quietly tiptoed into the room, trying not to disturb you as you slept soundly. He leaned down to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead before heading out for practice. But just as he was about to pull away, you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, mumbling something incoherent as you pulled him closer.

Jay chuckled softly, trying to disentangle himself without waking you. "Okay, my lady, I need you to let go now," he whispered, but you didn’t budge. "Okay, oh my gosh, let go," he added, more amused than anything.

You mumbled again but remained stubbornly asleep, your grip still firm around his neck. Jay sighed in mock defeat, carefully shifting to make sure you were comfortable before finally managing to extricate himself. He couldn’t help but smile as he left the room, your warmth lingering with him as he headed out.

Sim jaeyun = 심재윤

Scene 1

You slowly stirred awake, feeling the soft cushions of the couch beneath you and the familiar warmth of the blanket draped over your shoulders. But something felt different—there was a heavy weight pressing down on your lower back and hips. Still groggy, you glanced over your shoulder and spotted Jake fast asleep, his arms wrapped around your hips like they were his personal pillow, his face nuzzled into your back.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, feeling a mix of amusement and affection for his clingy antics. With a small sigh, you decided to just let him be, turning your head back and closing your eyes again, drifting back into sleep with the comforting warmth of Jake’s embrace still enveloping you.

Scene 2

Jake woke up at 3 a.m. to an empty bed, his sleepy mind immediately concerned. Groggily, he got up, his messy hair sticking up in all directions as he searched for you. Hearing faint noises from the bathroom, he walked over and stood by the door, rubbing his eyes like a tired child.

When you finally emerged, you were startled to see him waiting there, but before you could react, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. "I'm hungry," he mumbled, his voice muffled against your shoulder.

You gave him the biggest side-eye ever, a mix of exasperation and amusement crossing your face. It was too early for this.

Park sunghoon - 박성훈

Scene 1

The night air was crisp as you and Sunghoon exited the glitzy event. The streetlights flickered softly, casting a warm glow over the bustling city. You took a step and winced—your heel had snapped off, leaving you stranded in your elegant dress.

“Great,” you muttered, looking down at your broken heel.

Sunghoon, always perceptive, noticed immediately. His eyes softened with concern. “Are you okay?” he asked, stepping closer.

“Yeah, just a little inconvenience,” you replied, trying to laugh it off.

Without hesitation, Sunghoon crouched down and offered you a hand. “Here, let me help you.”

You hesitated for a moment, but his earnest expression made you relent. He gently lifted you into his arms, cradling you in a bridal carry. Your heart fluttered as you felt his warmth envelop you.

As you both started walking toward the hotel, you couldn’t help but notice the curious glances from passersby. Some people’s eyes widened in surprise, while others grinned at the charming sight. But Sunghoon remained unfazed, his focus solely on making sure you were comfortable.

“I’m really sorry about this,” you said, looking up at him. “I didn’t mean to cause such a scene.”

Sunghoon chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Don’t worry about it. I’m honored to carry you. Besides, it’s kind of nice to be able to take care of you like this.”

His words warmed your heart more than the night air ever could. You nestled closer, enjoying the rare moment of vulnerability and closeness. The city lights seemed to blur as you felt completely at ease in his arms.

When you finally reached the hotel, Sunghoon gently set you down and helped you inside, still carrying that unwavering, protective smile. “Let’s get you settled,” he said, taking your hand.

As you walked toward the elevator, you glanced back at him with a grateful smile. “Thanks for being my knight in shining armor.”

Sunghoon laughed softly, his eyes reflecting the sincerity of his feelings. “Anytime. I’ll always be here for you.”

Scene 2

You were deeply engrossed in building a virtual home for your Sims family, carefully arranging furniture and selecting decor to create the perfect cozy space. The soft hum of your laptop and the occasional click of the mouse were the only sounds filling the room.

Without warning, you felt a light, playful nibble at the back of your neck. You barely flinched, accustomed to Sunghoon’s affectionate antics. He was always finding new ways to make you smile, and tonight was no different.

He settled behind you on the couch, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “What are you up to?” he murmured, his voice low and playful as he placed a gentle trail of kisses along your neck.

You didn’t look away from the screen but smiled softly. “Building our dream home in Sims,” you said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I’m making sure the house has everything we could ever want.”

Sunghoon chuckled, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. “I’m glad you’re putting so much thought into it. I bet our Sims are going to have a fantastic life.”

You could feel his affection with every kiss, a soothing presence that added a personal touch to your virtual world. “They definitely will,” you agreed, still focused on perfecting the layout. “I’m even planning a little garden for us.”

His kisses paused for a moment, and he leaned in to rest his chin on your shoulder. “A garden sounds perfect. I can’t wait to see it.”

The tenderness of the moment was palpable, even as you continued to build and create. Sunghoon’s presence behind you was comforting and familiar, making the virtual family you were creating feel even more special.

“You’re the best,” you said, finally turning your head to give him a quick smile.

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief and affection. “And you’re the most amazing Sims architect.”

With one last kiss, he settled into a comfortable silence, enjoying the warmth of the moment as you continued to craft your virtual life together.

Kim sunoo - 김순우

Scene 1

After a full day of cooking, you had fallen asleep at the kitchen table, your head resting on your arms amidst a sea of dishes and the lingering aroma of your efforts. The soft light from the pendant lamps cast a gentle glow over you.

Sunoo entered the kitchen, immediately noticing the mess and, more importantly, you sleeping soundly. His heart melted at the sight. He approached quietly and leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “I love you,” he whispered tenderly.

You stirred slightly, a contented smile touching your lips even in your sleep. Sunoo smiled, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. He carefully draped a soft blanket over you, making sure you were cozy.

With one last affectionate glance, he left the kitchen to tidy up, feeling a deep sense of love and appreciation for the peaceful moment.

Scene 2

You and Sunoo had planned a cozy afternoon together, but Niki and Jungwon suddenly appeared, urgently needing Sunoo’s help with something. As they approached, you stepped in front of Sunoo, arms crossed and a determined expression on your face.

“Hey, he’s my boyfriend, not yours,” you said firmly. “Leave. Him. Alone.”

Sunoo’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked at you. “Yes, yes, you heard her. I’m hers, so leave me alone.”

Niki and Jungwon exchanged exasperated glances and rolled their eyes. “lame loser” Ni-ki said. “well at least we have a life ni-ki.” you said defensive

Jungwon just stood there as he shrugged, clearly unfazed by your protective stance. “Enjoy your sunoo i guess.”

Yang jungwon - 양중원

Scene 1

In the cozy living room, Jungwon playfully teased you, his laughter mingling with the soft glow of the lamps. As you stood near the wall, he gently pressed you against it, his body a warm, teasing presence.

You grinned, seizing the moment. On your tiptoes, you leaned in and stole a quick kiss. Jungwon’s smirk widened as he let you take the lead, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

When you pulled back, one hand resting on his waist and the other on top of your head, he traced every detail of your face with a loving gaze. Without warning, he captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. The intensity made your knees go weak, and you clung to him for support.

Jungwon finally pulled away, his eyes soft and warm. “what happened knees stopped working ,” he murmured with a smirk.

You hid your face in his chest avoiding eye contact . “shut up.”

He chuckled, pulling you into a tight embrace, savoring the tender moment.

Scene 2

In the soft, dim light of the bedroom, you and Jungwon were lounging on the bed, his body comfortably sprawled across your stomach. You were both relaxed, enjoying the quiet moment together.

Suddenly, a loud growl came from your stomach, breaking the tranquility. Jungwon’s head lifted, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Uh-oh,” he teased, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Looks like someone’s hungry. Is that the baby communicating with me?”

Before you could respond, Jungwon’s lips descended on your stomach, planting a flurry of light kisses as if trying to pacify a tiny, imaginary baby. His playful antics made you laugh, the sound bubbling up despite the ticklish sensation.

“Seriously,” he said between kisses, his voice warm and full of affection, “I’m just making sure our little one knows how much I care.”

You chuckled, gently running your fingers through his hair. “If that’s what it takes to keep you entertained, I suppose I’ll let you keep kissing my tummy.”

Jungwon grinned up at you, his eyes filled with adoration. “I’m always happy to entertain you and our little one. Besides, it’s a great excuse for some extra affection.”

With that, he rested his head back on your stomach, the room filled with a comfortable, loving atmosphere as you both settled in for the rest of the evening.

Ni- ki -남편

Scene 1

In the practice room, the sound of music and footsteps echoed off the walls as you walked ahead of Ni-ki. You were focused on reviewing some choreography, and your attention was on perfecting the moves.

Suddenly, you tripped over a stray piece of equipment on the floor, nearly losing your balance. Ni-ki, quick on his feet, reached out and grabbed the back of your shirt, trying to pull you back to safety.

However, in his eagerness to help, Ni-ki lost his own footing. Both of you ended up crashing onto the soft mats with a thud, a tangle of limbs and laughter.

Ni-ki looked up at you with a mischievous grin, still holding onto your shirt. “Well, I didn’t exactly plan for a dramatic fall,” he joked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You laughed, propped up on your elbows. “Thanks for the rescue, even if it didn’t quite work out as planned.”

He helped you up, his grin widening. “Anytime! Maybe next time, we’ll stick to the choreography and avoid the spontaneous gymnastics.”

You both dusted yourselves off and exchanged amused glances. “Agreed. But at least we made practice a bit more entertaining.”

With that, you resumed your practice, the lighthearted mishap adding a touch of fun to your routine.

Scene 2

In the practice room, you were taking a short break while Ni-ki, exhausted from the day's activities, had fallen asleep midway through his meal. He lay sprawled on the floor, a cute pout on his lips as he napped, his half-eaten food beside him.

You gently fed him the last bites, careful not to disturb his peaceful slumber. Just as you were about to finish, Jake entered the room. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening at the sight of Ni-ki’s adorable sleeping face and the way you were tenderly feeding him.

Unable to resist, Jake pulled out his phone and snapped a quick photo, his grin spreading from ear to ear. “This is too cute!” he whispered to himself, then dialed Jay and Heeseung.

A few moments later, Jay and Heeseung arrived, curiosity written all over their faces. Jake, unable to contain his excitement, pointed to Ni-ki. “Look at Ni-ki! He’s totally losing his emoisim, ”

Jay and Heeseung chuckled as they looked over at the scene, their expressions softening at the sight of the sleeping Ni-ki. “yah why does he look so adorable,” Jay said, smiling.

Heeseung nodded in agreement. “He really does.”

Just then, you turned around, having noticed the small commotion. With a playful glare, you smacked the back of Jake’s head. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough fun at Ni-ki’s expense?”

Jake yelped in surprise, rubbing the back of his head. “Hey! I was just sharing the cuteness!”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide your smile. “Well, share a little less next time also its my cuteness i dont like to share it”

Jake, still grinning, nodded sheepishly. “Got it. I’ll make sure to be more discreet.”

[s6ngbird]

only you — felix catton ᯓ★

⊹₊⋆ warnings — nsfw, p in the v, pretty much no plot, unprotected sex, fingering (f. recieving), overstimulation, lmk if i missed anything

⊹₊⋆ pairing — felix catton x fem!reader

⊹₊⋆ a/n — sorry for not posting for so long! exams were kicking my ass but im back so i will be wrapping up flowers from beneath soon

masterlist | bc: @cafekitsune

summers at saltburn were always delightful and there never seemed to be a break from the drama

especially this year, as felix invited his new friend, oliver over for the summer

you heavily disliked him, believing that he thought too much of himself and believed he could have felix wrapped around his finger

this was not the case though, as you were the one who had felix wrapped around their finger, practically convincing him to do whatever you desired

you and felix had been friends for a few years, but felix never followed the rules of friendship and liked to make out or fuck you whenever he pleased

it did bother you sometimes, since he would be so chill with fucking all these girls that it made you feel like you were just another doll in his ever-growing collection of people who were obsessed with him

you weren't obsessed with felix, but you craved his attention and validation, wanting his praise whenever you could get it

venetia noticed this first, laughing and teasing you about it but then it wasn't so funny anymore when she found out felix and you liked to fuck

but you couldn't think about fucking felix now, oliver had just arrived a few days prior and he was already taking up all of felix's time and energy 

you constantly got bad vibes from oliver, but felix never seemed to notice, causing you to confide in venetia and farleigh 

venetia was a bit hesitant but farleigh agreed with you, calling oliver a creep and that he probably wanted to fuck felix himself

this left you unhappy, already upset from the attention being dragged away from you, but especially now that felix barely batted an eye in your direction

all of this was finally resolved though, during one of felix's many parties

you were engaging in a mindless conversation with some random guy, who was obviously flirting with you but you pretended to be oblivious to it

you felt a weight on your shoulders, looking up to see felix draped over you, holding his cigarette and yelling at farleigh 

the guy who was previously talking with you gave felix an annoyed glare but left as soon as felix's attention returned to you

felix looked at him confused but shrugged it off and laughed, sitting down on the couch and pulling you on him

felix started placing sloppy kisses on your neck, uncoordinated and whiskey filled kisses

“felix you are so fucking drunk” you say, holding your cup away from him as he tried to grab it, but since his arms were freakishly large, he grabbed it with ease, holding the cup to your lips and pouring it down your throat until it was all done

“there all done! now i can take you upstairs” felix said, getting up and grabbing your hand to try and drag you with him

“felix no” you replied, exhausted and still upset that he had barely paid attention to you all week

he pouted and shrugged, muttering that it wouldn't be a problem, leaving you confused until he grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing 

you decided against fighting him, being glad that he finally was paying some attention to you and allowed him to carry you upstairs to his room

he placed you on his bed, smiling and stripping himself of his clothes besides his boxers, climbing over you and kissing you 

it felt good to finally have felix's attention after the week, getting to feel his lips on yours, and his tongue exploring your mouth certainly was not unwelcome 

you allowed him to unzip your dress, helping him slip it off your body as you two continued to kiss one another like starving animals

“whyd'd ya ignore me all week?” felix said between kisses, starting to move his lips down to your throat to suck hard as you moaned

“you were ignoring me!” you yelped as felix smacked your thigh and sucked on your breast hard to silence you

“i was not, i kept trying to get your attention but you only wanted to pay attention to venetia and farleigh” he said angrily, his sweet facade melting away as he pulled down your panties, ripping them off of you to reveal your soaking cunt

he grinned at the sight, not hesitating to dive between your legs and lick up all your arousal 

you moaned as his tongue nudged inside your hole, going fully in and then backing out, only to slam itself back inside

you tried to grip his hair for support as you continued to moan but felix slapped your hands away, looking up at you with a warning look

eventually he switched his tongue for his fingers, continuing a brutal pace as you took your bud in his mouth, sucking hard when you least expected it, bring you to your first orgasm of the night

he continued to pump his fingers into you, slapping your ass or thigh every time you tried to push him away from your pussy

“i'm not stopping until i'm satisfied with you, after all that torture you put me through this week, it's only fair” he said hoarsely after you had came at least three more times, everytime complaining about how overstimulated you were

he got off of you and you silently pleaded with whatever that was watching over the two of you that he would be done and just cuddle with you

unfortunately no one seemed to answer your prayer since he got back on you, stripped of his boxers and lining up his hard cock with your hole, the precum spilling as he aligned himself 

he slid into you with little resistance, sighing as his cock found home in your warm cunt

he stayed there for a little while, savoring the feeling while you continued to whine and push at his shoulders

he finally started to move, setting a rough pace as you moaned, grabbing his shoulders as you cried

“aw baby don't cry, i promise after this we'll be done” he said, kissing your tears and silencing your whimpers with kisses

you felt so overwhelmed, crying from the feeling of being overstimulated but also moaning from the pleasure coming from felix's cock

“you ok love?” felix says after a while, kissing you once more after you had doing nothing but moaning and crying but suddenly stopped

you nodded, tightening around his cock as you felt your fourth or fifth orgasm approaching

“atta girl, come for me” he said, his hot breath right in your ear and that's all it took for you to come undone on him, coming hard and gripping onto his shoulders like he would disappear 

he moaned at the feeling, kissing your neck and letting out praises between his moans

“gonna come in you, gonna make you mine” he said, thrusting once more and coming inside of you, his cum coating your walls

he panted, staying inside of you for a little longer before pulling out and stuffing his cum back inside of you, eliciting a squeal as you were still overstimulated 

“sorry baby, can't help but do it, you're mine now” he said with a laugh, grinning at your shocked expression

“no more girls? or guys? not even oliver?” you said, confused by his words due to his playboy nature

“no one, not even oliver” he said, holding you close to him and kissing your head

“only you love”

[rumisgf]

“GET MY F**** NAME TATTED SO I KNOW IT’S REAL” - DENKI KAMINARI x BLACK!READER

summary: your boyfriend has it all: tattoos, blonde hair, nice sleeper build, can dress, funny— he’s on the way to becoming one of the top 5 heroes for lord’s sake. but, even with all that, he can’t help but feel some type of way when he sees other dudes trying to get as his girl. he doesn’t know what comes over him, and he always starts thinking a little irritational.

includes: college!au eventual smut, tatted!denki, little plot (i sorry), females pronouns used once or twice, jealous!denki, denki calls reader ‘mama’, denki refers to himself as ‘daddy’ once, penetration, dom/sub undertones unprotected sex, recording, squirting, spit!kink, implied relationship, assumed that denki and reader record themselves fucking a lot, possessiveness, breeding kink if you squint, mentions of potential pregnancy, nasty sex

this isn’t fair. he’s finally got a hot, amazing girlfriend and everybody wants her. it makes him sick.

“woah kaminari, that’s you? how’d you bag that?” all his friends always seem to ask this same question in different variations, and their laughs afterwards seem to be filled with malice in his ears. and what’s worse is that you have no idea. you post all these pretty pictures and thirst trappy tiktok’s for random people in your comments to fawn over you. so, denki could not possibly be seething with more anger right now when someone he only sees in the dorm hallways come up to you.

“hey, um, you… seeing anyone? sorry i just saw you in class and couldn’t stop thinking about you, you are gorgeous.”

he watches as you smile, looking over to where he is as he’s supposed to getting his lunch. “o-oh, uh… thank you but i’m taken.” you shyly respond. the dude follows your eyes, and he only smirks. “well, he doesn’t seem like too much competition.”

you roll your eyes at the corny ass guy talking to you, and cross your arms. as you tell the guy he has no chance, you fail to notice denki look down at his own feet as he contemplates causes a scene at this very moment. but clearly, he didn’t care to think logically. you’re his.

suddenly, you feel a set of haste footsteps followed by two hands slowly find your waist. your movements halt as they massage the skin and pull you closer to the figure’s chest. “hey cutie, who’s this?” your boyfriend asks so innocently, making direct eye contact with the guy who’s face is beginning to flush. “mm, some dude who won’t leave me alone..” the guy furrows his eyebrows as he struggles to open his mouth. “woah, it’s like that, bro?”

“don’t know what you’re talking about.” denki says, responding for you. he softly kisses your shoulder, “she’s mine though, so you should go on somewhere.” with that, the guy reluctantly walks off, failing to hide his embarrassment.

you slowly push denki off of you, giving him a quick peck on the lips as a thank you. then, you both head back to your dorm to get away from the crowd of people at your university’s cafeteria— the habitat of horny, and corny men.

denki closes your door and plops onto the edge of your bed, holding his arms out. “c’mere mama.” you find your way on his lap as you face his grumpy face. he looks down at your body as his hands massage the sides of your waist. “so tired of that, i wish everybody would leave you alone…” he pauses, and it’s the same pause before he’s about to say one of the most outlandish things you’ve heard.

“tattoo my name on your neck.”

you smack your lips, lightly pushing his chest as you roll your eyes. “boy, i am not chrisean rock.”

“well how else are dudes gonna know you’re fucking mine?” he slowly dives into your neck, teasing the skin with his mouth as your lips part, threatening to let out a moan. “kami, you know i don’t want anybody else.” you say shyly, beginning to writhe in his lap as he’s know placing full mouth kisses on your neck. “but they don’t know that,” he mutters. he pulls away and immediately grabs you by your neck, bringing your face centimeters away from his. “if you won’t get me tatted, i’ll find another way to make sure they know you’re mine.”

he closes the space by kissing you fiercely, yet slowly. you drag your hips up on his lap, his hand gripping your waist once more as your back arches with the kiss. you wrap one arm around his neck while your other hands finds his chest, feeling his thumping heartbeat. his other hand doesn’t leave your neck as he plunges his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. you moan into his mouth, making him subconsciously buck his hips upwards. with that, you slowly start grinding on his lap and he begins to grind on your clothed crotch himself. you move in rhythm with each other, chasing the burning feeling of lust in your stomachs. then, he shoves his hand under your shirt and you finally gasp into his lips. he fondles with your soft breasts, wishing your bra wasn’t it the way. this makes you grind on him harder, and you’re sure he can feel the throbbing pulse of your now soaking pussy even through his pants. denki goes back to your neck, licking and biting your skin until several hickeys begin to show. he was serious, he was gonna find a way to mark himself on you one way or another. his hands now find your ass, squeezing both cheeks as he moves you faster on his laps and his own soft moans begin to spill out his mouth.

kaminari pulls away, both of you breathing heavy. “i’m about to fuck the shit out of you, you know that right?” he says in a direct tone. looking at him half lidded, you nod. without another word, he lifts you off of him and moves fully onto the bed. you follow him and immediately get pulled under him by his tattooed arms. his lips crash back onto yours, your hands frantically grabbing at his body. he grinds onto you, making sure you feel his hard bulge on your cunt that’s close to soaking through the panties under your jeans. “kami, please…” you whine, not knowing entirely what you’re begging for— you just know you need him in every way possible.

he quickly discards of own your jeans, then his own. immediately, his eyes meet the thong that perfectly displays your arousal dripping out and staining your folds that are halfway shown. he nearly drools, running his finger through your clothed slit. “mm-!” you moan, wincing at the pleasure flowing through you just at how eager you were for him to touch you. wasting no more time, he lifts off the bed and stands at the side next to you, pulling you on the edge of the bed in front of him. he pulls down his boxers and slides off your underwear. you gawk at his long, hard dick right in front of you, and he smirks. then, he reaches over to pick up his jeans, pulling his phone out his pocket.

he unlocks his phones, then points his camera to his dick in front of your sopping cunt. he rubs circles on your clit with his tip, “mmm, so wet baby.” he hums, before slowly sliding himself into your entrance. your walls give him a warm hug as your slick squelches once he enters them.

he wastes no time giving you every inch of him, and you cry out. “oh- shit! babyyy!” the pace is almost too much, him pumping into you like he was mad at you. “uh huh, love this dick don’t you?” he uses his free hand to grips your thigh, pushing it back. instinctively, you hold your legs back for him as close to your head as possible. “good girl, let me see that pretty pussy.”

you’re almost embarrassed, your helpless state on display as he ruins your pussy. your normally sweet boyfriend is deep-stroking the brain cells out of you with a dark, sinister smile on his face. but.. you can’t complain, he’s fucking you too good right now. “ohmygod please… i can’t..” he slaps your thigh, making your body jolt. “yeah you can, c’mon. you got it.” you throw your head back, moaning his name like a prayer. “yeahhh, my good girl.” the praise sends your head spinning as the room grows hotter by the minute. “say you’re mine. *smack* say you who belong to.”

“i’m yours- shitttt- i’m yours! i’m all yours” you say, the command causing a white ring to form around his dick from you creaming. “yeah, you like that shit? love being my good little whore?” he slaps your thigh again, making you whine. he relishes in the state you’re in, completely vulnerable to him. he loves nothing more than showing that he could really dick you down when he gets this frustrated. all the anger he gets from all these guys constantly hitting on you- he takes it out as he examines your soft, sweet body that’s all for him: down from your pussy to your mouth, “open up.” he demands. before you can even fully open it, he spits in your mouth from above you. it takes you by surprise, but he gives you not time to think even if you could…. which, you can’t, from the way he ms fucking you. “swallow that shit.”

you lick the excess spit off your lip and swallow, looking him in the eye when you do so you can see him smile. “such a good girl.. so good f’ me.” denki picks up the pace, the camera shaking with his movements. your voice jumps with every thrust as you moan out for him. his breath huffs with every thrust, sweat beading up on the both of your bodies as you fuck like dogs in heat. your body is littered with hickies and red marks that were intentionally painted on your body by your boyfriend. although they’re not permanent like tattoos, they still holding the same meaning that you belong to him and him only.

he grips your waist as he fucks you into pure bliss. you feel a strong knot threaten to burst in your stomach. “i- fuck! ‘m gonna cum~”

“yeah?” he taunts, immediately rubbing your clit. “you wanna cum already? ‘m fucking you that good?” his ego grows by the second as you become putty in his hands, legs threatening to give out. you let out a drawn out moans as he punctuates his hips, abusing your g-spot over and over. your eyes roll to the back of your head as your toes stiffen in the air, losing control of your body.

“go ahead, nut all over this dick.”

you scream his name as your juices squirt out of you and onto his stomach. he continues fucking you as you making a mess on the floor, the bed on him, and yourself. your body shakes violently as your orgasm takes over you, him pulling out and smacking his dick on your clit as you violently squirt on him. then, he slides back into you, groaning at how soaked you are. “my good little slut… all mine— nobody can fuck you like i do. say you’re my little slut.”

you let out a slurred “i’m your little slut” as you feel another orgasm build up. in a matter of seconds. he pulls your body closer, leaning forward so he can fuck you deeper. in another minute, you’re squirting on him again as he fucks you, moaning so loud your housemates can definitely hear you by now. “fuck baby… so fucking messy.” he moans, now chasing his own high. “fuck- where you want it baby? huh?”

“in me- please!” you beg, looking up at him with doe eyes as he relentlessly bullies your cunt. his eyes spark up, slightly taken aback from your response. “yeah? dick so good you want me to give you a baby?” you nod eagerly, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks from the overstimulation. you both know you’re out your right mind and this is not a logical decision to make on a whim, but you pray that maybe god is on your side just this one time— even though this is such a sinful act. “yes please put a baby in me!”

“daddy’s gonna make you a mama- fuck- gonna fuck my kids into you.” he pants, thrust becoming frantic and rigid. and though he doesn’t wanna admit it, he’d love nothing more than for you to be swollen and soft because of him. the though of you carrying his child with an large stomach that contrasts your smaller figure brings him right to his own orgasm. with a hard, deep thrust, he lets out loud strings of moans matches with the thick ropes of his seed seeping into your cunt. you moan at the warm feeling, eyes threatening to close shut. he pulls out of you, rubbing your clit as cum leaks out of your used hole.

setting his phone down after quickly adding it to his special folder, he grabs a spare towel from his closet to clean the both of you up. then, he lays down next to you after you scoot into your covers, legs still shaking. he looks down at them, letting a chuckle out his mouth.

“damn, i fuck you that good?”

you smack his chest, only causing him to laugh more. “bitch i had you whining to cum in me, hush.”

“oh really? cause if we watch that video back right now you’ll clearly hear you begging for me to-”

another smack lands on his chest, as you hush him frantically. “hey, at least if you have my baby they’ll really know who you belong to.” you sigh, sinking onto his chest. “then, i’ll have as many babies as you need me to.”

@ rumisgf

[bvidzsoo]

Popular boys? Overrated ♡ (masterlist)

Urban Dictionary:

♡ Popular boy: Annoying assholes who think making fun of other people makes them cool. ♡ Overrated: When something or someone becomes too popular than others, and is given more credits than it deserves to be.

♡ Synposis: University? Stressful. Assignments? Too many. Social life? Above par. Boys? Disgusting. Popular boys? A total and complete headache. Sex? Optional. Sleep? Not so optional. But really...what are you supposed to do when you've got a hot guy up your ass begging for your attention? Nothing much but give in to him.

↳ Follow the two separate stories of our protagonists as they maneuver their lives at University while trying to avoid the two nefarious popular boys, Seonghwa and Yunho.

♡ Author: bvidzsoo

♡ Pairing: Park Seonghwa x female reader; Jeong Yunho x female reader

♡ Rating: nc-17

♡ Genre: 90's rom-com; University!au; Popular guy!au; Sports!au

♡ Status: on-going

🎧Playlist🎧

♡ Park Seonghwa ♡

📝Sugar on my lips: ˗ˏˋ First assignment ★ Second assignment ★ Third assignment ˎˊ˗

Summary: Besides looking pretty and acting dumb, popular boys were good for nothing else. Park Seonghwa, who you've known for over a year now, wasn't an exception. Obnoxious, eccentric, and a peacock, he seems to have an affinity of getting on your nerves. But when coincidentally you get paired up for an assignment, you happen to discover a different side of him. Is it possible you have misjudged him?

✫☼☾☁ ❝𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐲…𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠.❞ ☁☾☼✫

♡ Visual Board ♡

♡ Jeong Yunho ♡

🎭Under the pretense: ˗ˏˋ First act ★ Second act ★ Third act ˎˊ˗

Summary: What was supposed to be the best time of your life turned into something more bizarre and only slightly fun. Don't get me wrong, having to share your theater class out of the blue with popular guy Jeong Yunho, to most, didn't sound like the worst idea, but to you...yeah, you would've been more grateful if the principal found other methods of punishment for her son's misbehavior.

꧁༺ ❝𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔢, 𝔟𝔬𝔡𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢, ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢, ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲.❞ ༻꧂

♡ Visual Board ♡

A/N: Weeell, hellooo, surprise?? Total random idea with the most random plots, but here I stand before you, presenting two separate stories which happen in the same universe. They can most certainly be read as standalones, but fyi I will post them by jumping from Seonghwa's story to Yunho's and then back and forth. I most certainly will not start their stories until I'm done with my Mingi rockstar series, which will take a few more weeks, sorry for making you wait but...priorities. As you can see, I have a playlist that I will be updating with songs that remind me of our girlies, our main characters, as they will be girlbossing in their respective stories lol. I hope I'll be able to pull off the 90's romcom vibes, don't be too hard on me if I fail lol <3

Taglist is open and you can leave a comment on this post, please specify if you're interested in both Seonghwa and Yunho's stories, or if in only one of them! Kisses and I hope I have piqued your interest! <3 divider

↳Perm. taglist: @orshii @jjoongstar @tinyelfperson @thestarskiller @zuuhaa

@aaa-sia @gong-fourz @a-tinycarat @sooberryworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

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@yusalterego @arigakittyo @slowee00 @jaerisdiction @hey-syia

@vnessalau @oddracha @chatsgotmytongue @potatos-on-clouds @yunhowooyo

@watermelon2319 @yoongzsmile28 @klllerwaifu @apriecotte @hwasbbyg

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@ateez-main-yapper @kang-ulzzang @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @ginger-mingi @redzie02

@unholywriters @autieofthevalley @roomsofangel @peachyy-joonie @baeksofty

@tunafishyfishylike @syubseokie

❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

[brittlefcrged]

Chaos. Terror. The flash of grenades, the whiz-pops of blasters - the shouts of fear, the cries of pain - the smell of copper, and burning flesh - amidst it all there is a face, a face that she does not know, but knows she should -- will -- might -- a girl, fleeing through the outer edges of the village -- the world spins, fractures, and Reese is falling with her, falling through the surface of the world, into the space between, the glitter of distant stars, falling, falling --

there is a sound, something that fills the vacuum, the void, her screams silent, and soundless, and breathless, the pressure of ice and stone burrowing into her skin, into her chest, into her lungs --

A sound, like a war drum, like a siren's song -- a lifeline of comfort, and familiarity, a safety net that wraps around her and slows her death spiral into a tumble -- a voice, that voice that she knows so well, better even, she thinks, than she knows her own --

Sweat, or tears, she doesn't know which, rests damp on her cheeks, and neck, as she trembles, snapping back into the welcome prison of flesh and bone and blood, a harsh and ragged gasp torn from her as she remembers how to breathe, how to feel something that is herself, just herself. The milky haze clears from her eyes, as the visions dissipate, and her hands grasp at Agonia's, desperate to borrow strength from the woman she knew could spare it. "I saw ... there was ... a symbol. The ... girl. A constellation, on her pendant. It's where she'll go -- to hide. I ... she needs to be protected."

Visions were familiar, all-consuming, eating away at the mind like ravenous beasts. Agonia knew, intimately, the way that Reese recoiled and recollected and recombined. Migraines and dry mouths, blood coating the skin where sweat formed. Reality, just out of reach. Yes, she knew. Patiently, she waited, letting the most violent of reactions run their courses.

"Reese," a command belied beneath a gentle tone; for her, through the distortion of her rebreather. "Listen to my voice. Listen to me."

An edge to that tainted voice, imposing in its silent violence. No armor needed, though she donned it all the same. Always. Eternally. One step, two, three to bring her to the other woman, gloved hands grasping at shoulders. Before she could hurt herself, or something else.

"You are here. Not there. Reese."

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: another instalment of the tik tok mat series! featuring liana! this was another suggestion from an anon and i just love writing these three and their dynamic so this was fun - i hope you guys enjoy 😊

word count: 3.2k

tw: nothing but good clean fun

summary: during a visit, you and liana convince mat to join you in another tik tok video, with a twist

“What are you two plotting?” Mat’s sudden appearance in the kitchen startles you and you jump a little. Next to you, Liana yelps and smacks her knee against the cabinet.

“Ow, fuck,” she mutters, reaching down to rub at the spot that’ll definitely be bruised tomorrow. She scowls at Mat, which he ignores.

“Jesus,” you sigh, closing your eyes briefly while your heartbeat gets back to normal. “We’re not plotting.” Your tone is slightly petulant.

Mat comes up behind you and slots himself at your back, arms on either side of you caging your body against the kitchen island. He kisses the back of your neck and play humps your ass.

Liana fake gags, sticking her index finger in her mouth. “You’re disgusting. And what she said. Plotting makes it sound so nefarious, we’re just planning something,” she kicks at Mat’s socked foot with her own and he kicks back.

“Plotting, planning. Same difference when it comes to you two,” Mat retorts, keeping his chest pressed to your back when he leans in to grab a tortilla chip out of the open bag on the counter and swipe it through the bowl of guac in front of you. He chomps noisily on the chip, right in your ear, and you reach back to swat at his stomach. Mat takes a small step back so he’s not as loud in your ear.

“Don’t get guac on me,” you complain a little, trying to wiggle out of Mat’s embrace. All it serves to do is get your ass pressed against his crotch. Mat laughs and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you back against him.

He presses a kiss behind your ear and mutters quietly, “say the word and I’ll kick Li out right now.”

Your laugh is overshowdowed by Liana’s outraged cry of, “I can hear you, dumbass! I’m standing right next to you!”

“In the kitchen that I own,” Mat shoots back, still hugging you.

Before they start bickering even more and derail yours and Liana’s plans, you hold up your hands and shoot a wide-eye, raised eyebrows look at your boyfriend’s sister. “How about we don’t turn a lovely visit into a Barzal brawl?” You say, tone placating.

Liana immediately relaxes, her lips tipping up in a half-smile. Mat’s arm loosens around your shoulders and you lean easily against his chest.

“Yeah, okay,” they both mutter at the same time and you can’t help but laugh at the identical tone and inflection.

Mat’s hips work lazily against your ass and you know it’s a subconscious movement, a tic that he can’t help when he’s pressed close to you. It used to be insanely distracting, but you’re so used to it by now, you barely even notice anymore.

“Why don’t you join us for a Tik Tok?” You ask Mat, leaning your head back against his shoulder to look up at him. “Liana and I have like a whole bunch of videos we want to make while she’s here.”

It’s a partially true statement. You do have a couple of videos that would be fun to make with her while she’s visiting for a long weekend, but conning Mat into a video is the main plan.

“Your videos always do the best when I join,” Mat brags in an overly smug tone. He kisses your forehead and you know he’s teasing. But again, another partially true statement. You had a solid social media following, but once you started dating Mat, your follower count exploded and the videos that he pops up in are the ones that get shared the most. Especially on Twitter and the random fan cams you stumble on while you scroll.

Liana scoffs. “God, the ego on you is ridiculous,” she tosses a grape at Mat’s head. He catches it and pops it into his mouth, grinning.

“I could boost your following too, Li,” he offers. “I know you get a bump when I appear. It’s my natural charm and charisma.”

Both you and Liana burst out laughing, drowning out Mat’s offended protests. He complains that you’re being mean to him and you turn in his arms to press a kiss against the corner of his mouth, tasting salt from the tortilla chip and cilantro from the guac. “Shush,” you tease, “we’re keeping you humble.”

He scowls at you, nose wrinkling, and you press your lips together to smother a smile because he’s adorable when he’s annoyed.

“If you’re mean to me, I’m leaving the video,” he warns finally. You know he doesn’t mean it, Mat loves being part of yours and Liana’s business too much.

“If you two are done playing grab ass,” Liana interrupts, sure enough, Mat’s hands are gripping your ass cheeks like his life depends on it. “Can we get filming before we have to get changed for dinner?”

You slip away from Mat with a giggle and grab your coffee mug off the counter, your phone in your other hand. Mat grabs the Tostitos and the guac and follows you both to the couch. He plops down, spreading his knees wide, in the middle of the couch with his snack resting on his thigh.

“So what did I actually agree to do?” He asks while you and Liana each take a seat on the floor in front of the couch. You prop your phone up against a pair of coffee table books and the plastic case for NHL 24.

Liana starts to explain, “basically, we’re giving you questions and you have to pick which of us it applies to. Like, you know stuff out of a high school yearbook or whatever.”

“It’ll make sense when we start,” you pipe up, opening Tik Tok. You make Mat shift a few inches to the right so all three of you are in the frame and ask, “ready?”

The siblings nod and Mat digs into the chip bag, just as you’re starting to speak. Liana rolls her eyes at him.

“Hey guys,” you lean in towards the camera, “we’ve got a house guest for a long weekend, I think you’re familiar with her?”

Liana waves at the camera, smiling. “Hey! We figured since this is the first time I’ve been in the same country as big bro since the summer, we should mark the occasion with a Tik Tok.”

“I’m here under duress,” Mat snarks, giving the camera a big, cheesy grin. “And the snacks,” he lifts the bowl of guac. “A Squeaks specialty.”

“Perfect segue to the game,” Liana chirps, pulling out her phone and tapping open the Notes app. “We’re going to ask Mat questions and he has to pick which one of us it applies to. So, first we’ll go with who’s the better cook?”

Mat scrunches his face up in thought for a few seconds before wiggling his hand back and forth in the air. “Toss up,” he says. “Depending on what food it is.”

“Nope, not a valid answer,” Liana shakes her head. “Remember who cooks for you all the time at home.”

“I mean, I cook for him all the time down here,” you pipe up, feigning nonchalance.

Mat jabs his index finger at you, “exactly. Plus, no offense, Li, but your recipes are pretty basic. Squeaks likes to experiment.” He waggles his eyebrows and you reach back to pinch his ankle. He yelps and kicks lightly at your thigh with his socked foot. “Rude.”

“Cooperate, Mat!” You sigh.

“Next question,” Liana taps again at her phone, “who’s funnier?”

Mat hovers his hand over your head and you smile. “Squeaks, for sure,” he nods decisively.

Liana rolls her eyes. “Sarcasm isn’t actually being funny, just so you know,” she comments idly.

“If it makes me laugh, then yeah it is,” Mat retorts, crunching into a chip to punctuate his sentence. He pokes at your thigh with his foot again, affectionate this time, and you wrap a hand around his ankle.

You reach out and, out of Mat’s view, tap on Liana’s thigh, subtly widening your eyes at her. She grins back and tips her chin in a slight nod.

“How about, who’s the better dancer?” You ask, leaning over to read off of Liana’s phone.

Mat shifts his hand to hold it over Liana’s head with a laugh. “I love you, baby, but you’ve got all the rhythm of a middle aged dad,” he teases. “Li clears this one.”

You wrinkle your nose and cut your eyes to Liana, murmuring, “I don’t know. Shaking your ass isn’t really dancing, is it?”

“At least I can shake my ass on beat,” Liana shoots back quickly.

On the screen, you can see Mat frown before sticking a guac covered chip into his mouth. His eyes flicker between you and Liana and you can see him thinking before deciding not to say anything. You roll your lips together to avoid laughing. You and Liana are definitely going to have to take it up a notch.

“Best style?” Liana asks and continues before Mat can answer, “oh, obviously me. No question.”

Mat looks down at her, eyebrows drawing together over his nose. “Since when? You’re always in comfy clothes, sweats, that shit.” He gestures down at Liana who’s wearing a cream lounge pants and sweater set that more or less matches your own.

“Maybe when I’m hanging out with you in the house,” Liana hits his other leg. “But my street style is way better, she dresses so Long Island.”

“Long Island fashion is so much better than anything to come out of Canada,” you retort with an eye roll. “Mat clearly made the right choice.”

“And I’m sure that has nothing to do with the fact that he like when you dress all skimpy and slutty,” she shoots you an insincere smile and the couch shifts when Mat sits up straight.

“Hey, whoa, Liana that’s not cool,” Mat snaps, shaking his head. “What’s going on with you?”

You turn your head away from Mat to hide the smile that threatens at your lips. Liana waves a hand at her brother, “oh my god, nothing. It’s true though, you like the way she dresses.”

“Yeah, but she’s not a slut,” Mat’s getting annoyed and it’s sweet, how quick he is to defend you.

“Oh, it’s fine,” you draw attention back to you. “Let’s do another. Who’s smarter?”

Mat squints at you and leans back into the couch, crunching the bag of chips behind his back. “Oh shit,” he mutters, yanking it out and getting crumbs everywhere. You exhale a laugh through your nose - vacuuming before going out for dinner isn’t entirely unusual with Mat’s eating on the couch habits.

“Um, both of you?” He replies to the question. “Like Li is street smart, but you’re book smart. Y’know?”

“Oh my god,” Liana shakes her head. “Are you calling me stupid? You think she’s smarter than me?” She jabs her thumb at you and you frown at Mat.

“Seriously? Like you think I’m not street smart? You could drop me anywhere and I’d find my way home,” you protest, pretending to get heated.

“Please, she’s not even book smart either,” Liana says. “You know she thinks blood is just floating around in the body!”

You burst out a little laugh. That one is actually true, you’d had a “blonde moment” and said something to Liana to the effect of it being weird that blood and organs are just floating around inside your body. She’d stared at you for a solid five minutes with her mouth open at your stupidity, while you immediately realized your mistake and tried to backtrack that you knew veins and arteries exist.

Mat raises his eyebrows at you and his mouth drops a little. “Wait, seriously?” He asks. “You really think that?”

“No!” You yelp, waving your hands in the air. “Like for a second, but I’m not that dumb.”

Liana scoffs under her breath and you cut your gaze at her to see her hand come up and cover her mouth, hiding a wide smile.

“Maybe I should take it back,” Mat laughs, poking at your side with his foot. “Yeah, I’m changing my answer, Liana’s smarter.”

“Rude,” you laugh, unable to actually be offended by Mat’s switch-up. If he had said something as stupid, you would’ve made fun of him until the end of time.

Liana asks the next question - “Who’s more popular on Tik Tok?” - and Mat waffles until he eventually decides that the answer is “whoever features me the most.”

“Well, there’s a reason you’re never on mine,” Liana comments idly. “I don’t need the exposure.”

Mat squints at her, leaning forward so he’s almost bent in half. “Literally what is going on with you?” He flicks the back of her head and she swats at him. “You’re being so weird.”

“I’m not being weird, you’re being weird,” Liana shoots back.

“I never heard you talk to her like that,” Mat grumbles, jerking his thumb in your direction. “What bug crawled up your ass?”

“No bug,” Liana shrugs. “Just calling them like I see them.”

You lean against the couch and watch Mat’s face twist into a skeptical frown. He kicks the side of Liana’s thigh and says firmly, “be nicer. Whatever’s happening here needs to cool off.”

He’s being fairly calm, so maybe the trick won’t actually work. You tap on Mat’s calf, momentarily distracted by the thick cords of muscle, and say, “one more, and then I think we need to start getting ready.”

Mat reaches down and scratches the tips of his fingers against your scalp, making you lean into his touch like a cat, a slow smile taking over your face. With your cheek pressed against his knee, you look over at Liana, who’s rolling her eyes even as she has a faint smile on her face at your antics.

“Okay,” she grins, “if we were all in a sinking ship and you could only save yourself and one of us, who would it be?”

Without hesitating, Mat immediately says, “Squeaks.” There’s a healthy amount of “duh” in his tone and you can’t help but smile, warmed down to your core at Mat’s quick response.

Until Liana does her job and riles him up.

“Seriously?” She scoffs a laugh. “No hesitation, you’d pick some girl you haven’t even known a year over your own sister? Wow.”

You bite at your lower lip to hide a smile and Mat shoots forward again, jostling you.

“Liana, jesus fuck. What is wrong with you?” He snaps. “You’re being a fucking bitch. You know she’s not ‘some girl’ and you need to apologize. Now.”

He’s scowling at her, legs tensed. You don’t usually see Mat angry off the ice, but now he’s angry on your behalf and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t hot. Absolutely worth the prank to get him worked up like this.

Liana giggles and shakes her head. “Oooh, you should see your face,” she giggles again.

“I’m dead serious, Liana,” Mat shakes his head. “You’re not fucking funny and I’m not going to sit her and let you be rude.”

You start giggling now and reach out for Mat’s hand. “Hey, babe, Mat. Seriously, it’s okay,” you say and Mat squints at you, frowning.

“No, it’s not fucking okay. I thought you two got along. I thought you were friends and now Liana’s over here being rude as hell,” he shakes his head. “I’m not going to let you stay here and be nasty, Li.”

Liana catches your eye and the laughter is contagious. Soon enough, the two of you are cracking up, gasping for air. Mat’s confused, you can tell, because he’s spluttering and shaking both of your shoulders with his hands.

“What the actual fuck is going on?” He mutters, reaching down and dragging you up onto his lap. You laugh and protest, wiggling to sit on the couch with your legs draped over his thighs.

“It’s a Tik Tok trend,” you explain, waving at your phone with one hand and wrapping the other around the back of Mat’s neck. Liana leans forward and stops the video on your phone. It was getting too long anyway and no one needs to see you explain the whole thing to Mat.

Liana pipes up, “I can’t believe you’d really think I hate her. I like her more than I like you.”

Mat’s eyebrows scrunch together and you can see the wheels turning in his brain. It clicks all of a sudden and Mat’s mouth falls open, outraged shock written all over his features. “I knew it!” He yelps, grabbing a throw pillow and whacking Liana on the shoulder. She falls over, laughter gasping out of her. Mat smacks her with the pillow again and Liana kicks out at him, glancing the coffee table and yelping in pain.

“I knew you two were plotting!” He laughs, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you pinned to his side. Your stomach hurts from laughing and trying to wriggle away. “Fucking menaces, I’m not saving either one of you. You can both drown.”

“No!” Your laugh mixes with Liana’s and Mat’s, the three of you landing in a pile on the floor as Mat continues to whack at both of you with the pillow. Liana kicks at Mat’s shin, fighting him when he rubs his knuckles on the top of her head in a noogie.

“Stop, stop, mercy!” Liana gasps, wheezing. Mat rolls his eyes, but stops, breathing hard when he sits up, keeping you locked securely on his lap. You press your forehead against his shoulder, panting. Mat’s hands are warm on your back and then they slide down, his palm smacking against your ass in a spank.

You yelp and jump in his arms, nearly cracking the side of his jaw with your head. “What was that for?” You grumble, reaching back to rub at the sore spot.

Mat grins wickedly at you. “For being a brat,” he replies simply. He points at Liana, sprawled like a starfish on the floor, and says, “you’re on coffee duty for the rest of your time here. And I want the fancy shit from For Five, not the homemade stuff.”

Liana whines. “No way, this was a clean prank,” she counters, kicking at Mat’s side and missing. “You agreed to be in the video.”

“Last time I do that,” Mat mutters, but he’s laughing under his breath and he presses a kiss to your forehead, so you know he doesn’t mean it. “You two are so fucking annoying.”

“But who would you say is more annoying?” You can’t help but ask, a cheeky smile on your face.

Mat groans and Liana lifts her hand for you to slap. You lean over in Mat’s lap to smack her hand and nearly fall over in the process. Mat’s fingers wrap around your thigh and keep you in place.

“No more Tik Tok,” he vows when you’re settled again, perched happily on his lap, your thighs bracketing his hips.

Liana pipes up from the floor before you have a chance, “okay, and not that i’m supporting you two being disgusting, so please wait until I go home, but what about that trend where the wife’s cooking naked when her husband gets home?”

You bite your tongue to hide a giggle and Mat’s head cocks, thinking. His fingers flex against your thighs. You loop your arms around his neck and trace your fingertips over the back of his neck. His forehead relaxes and you can feel his cock twitch with interest under your ass.

Eventually, he says, “okay, I’ll allow my participation in one more video.”

“That’s what I thought,” Liana mumbles. “Freaks.”

[jsluvtzu]

late nights

g!p minatozaki sana x fem!reader

summary: you get a taste of her version of an after-party

cw: smut!!! really nasty smut!!!!!, somnophilia, breeding kink, honestly no plot, men dni

wc: 2k

a/n: wrote this while listening to muse by pnd anddd lemme tell yall… this fic is so muse coded

you splashed your face with water one last time, pat drying it with a towel.

it was 11:24 pm on a friday night, and you decided to have a self-care night while your girlfriend drank her life away at a work party.

the song you had playing on the bluetooth speaker paused and got replaced with a now blaring ringtone.

you disconnected your phone from the speaker and answered it to hear the one voice you’ve missed all day.

“y/nnnn, my favorite girl everrr, hiiii”, sana’s slurred words and giggly tone filled the ear you held to your phone.

you chuckled at your girlfriend’s cute greeting, wondering how many shots of soju she’s had already.

“hii cutie, you having fun?”

“mmm i guess.. nayeon unnie keeps crying and telling me how pretty i am.”

you hummed and walked into your shared bedroom, switching the call to speakerphone and placing your phone on the bed.

“what’ve you been up to without me?”

“i just finished getting ready for bed, that’s all.”, you missed being able to have some time to yourself, but you missed your girlfriend more.

“yeah? what else did you do?”

you heard shuffling noises and small grunts over the phone, but thought nothing of it as you took your sleep shorts off, sliding into bed with nothing on other than sana’s oversized tee.

“hmm, i cleaned a little, took a nice, hot shower, did a face mask, and-“

sana interrupted your rambling with louder groans and you finally realized what she was doing.

“mhm, keep talking for me baby.”

your cheeks burned up immediately at the thought of sana touching herself to the sound of your voice.

“sana.. aren’t there people around you right now?”

“i’m in a stall love. don’t worry about me, ‘just wanna hear your pretty voice.”

“why don’t you just come home and let me help you? it’ll feel so much better, i promise.”, your mind getting filled with dirtier thoughts by the minute.

“fuck, i can’t baby, not yet. jeongie wants us to play some dumb drinking game.”

you groaned in annoyance and pulled the comforter higher up your body.

“i know, ‘m sorry baby, i’ll be home in an hour or two, okay?”

“mhm, whatever..”, you knew that was a lie. every time sana went out with her coworkers, it would always be an all night thing.

unfortunately, sana got you all needy for her from just one phone call, but she wasn’t there to help you relieve your urges.

you turned to lay on your side and rubbed your thighs together in an attempt to soothe the throbbing pain between your legs.

“shit, i gotta go y/n, just wait for me. i’ll be home soon and make you feel better, yeah?”

reluctantly, you agreed and hung up the phone, placing it on your nightstand and turning on a random show on the tv, putting the volume on low.

the dim light from the living room was the only source of light that shined through your open door, the warm ambience calming you into a state of drowsiness.

you fought with yourself to keep your eyes open in hopes that sana would actually keep her promise and come home at a reasonable time.

that fight ended rather quickly.

—

several hours had passed when sana finally came home, extremely drunk and horny.

she stumbled her way through the hallways, bumping into anything and everything in sight.

when she got to the doorway of your shared room, she stopped and held the door frame, stabling herself.

she stood there, staring and observing your peacefully sleeping figure.

you were laying stomach faced down and had one leg hanging out of the blanket, ass fully on display for her.

sana pushed herself off the wall and carefully approached the bed, trying her best not to make any noise.

not that it would wake you up anyways, you were always a pretty heavy sleeper.

as she made her way over to you, she kept her eyes locked on your visibly wet pussy, simultaneously slipping out of her leather jacket.

she got close enough to brush her fingers over your ankle all the way up to your waist, and up again to your face, softly caressing your cheek with the side of her finger.

your messy hair covering half your face. your soft, deep breathing and curved figure. you sobered sana up better than a good night’s sleep could.

she had a moment of clarity. never having thoughts any clearer than right now.

she needed to fuck you. just like this.

sana reached her free hand down her crotch to unzip her jeans, fishing her own cock out in hand.

it wasn’t enough to just stand there and stroke herself to the mere sight of you, she needed to use you.

she stood up straight and lifted one leg up and over the bed, clumsily straddling herself over your legs on her knees.

her skinny jeans were limiting her movement, so she pulled them and her boxers further down her thighs, allowing them to pool at her knees.

sana’s cock was hurting at this point, just eager to have your tight walls wrapped around her.

she ran her tip along your puffy folds, collecting your previous arousal on it and mixing it with her leaking precum.

soft moans escaped her lips when she accidentally dipped herself inside you, throwing her head back and biting her lip, relishing the moment.

“fuck y/n, you’ve just been here all wet and ready for me, huh? poor baby must’ve been so tired, she couldn’t even stay up a few more hours.”, sana whispered.

she was mumbling the filthiest things and having a whole conversation with herself.

“i know this is wrong love, i shouldn’t be this hard when i see you laid out like this. lookin’ all pretty for me while you’re sleeping.”

sana slid your shirt up your back as far as she could without lifting your body, losing her grip on reality when she saw the way your back was slightly arched.

“arching for me even in your sleep? fuck baby, you want this. yeah, you were waiting for this. just waiting for me to take advantage of you when you can’t tell me yourself.”

sana rubbed her hands over your ass, gently massaging your flesh.

“ ‘this why you wanted me to come home so bad? so i could fuck you out of your dreams? wake you up with my dick so fucking deep inside your pussy? huh? my pretty girl..”

you let out a small, short grunt, stretching and adjusting your position, still fully asleep.

sana paused her movements in fear that she woke you up before her fun started, but she smiled when she realized you actually had no clue what was going on, subconsciously angling yourself at an even better position for her.

“look at that.. poor needy little thing just begging to be fucked even when she’s unconscious. how cute..”

she tapped her cock up against your clit a couple times before she ran through your slit down to your entrance, inching herself inside.

dragging out her slow thrust, she made sure to feel every single bit of you, taking in how your pussy stretched around her thick, long cock.

she let out a low groan when she hit your cervix, the whole length of her cock disappeared from view.

“shit.. y/n. you take me so fucking well. god, look at you baby.”

she pulled out of you at the same leisurely pace with no struggle, given how wet you already were.

sana lifted up her t-shirt with her left hand, bunching it up just above her breasts, her abs flexing with every breath she took.

her right hand stayed on the small of your back, holding you in place while she teased herself inside of you, thrusting in and out of you painfully slow.

“you feel so good like this, y/n. fuck, you were right. i should’ve just- fuck- came home and let you help me.”

her pace was getting sloppier, words struggling to become coherent.

“still not awake yet, love? better be dreaming of me if you’re sleeping this good.”

sana was closer to cumming than she thought, her neediness getting the best of her.

she leaned over your figure, hands landing on either side of you, lowering herself to fuck you at an insane pace.

“ ‘gna put a fucking baby in this pretty little pussy.”

you heard her voice right in your ear, slightly stirring out of your sleep.

sana moved her hips in an uncoordinated and messy rhythm, her drunkenness still apparent.

her thrusts were heavy, the whole bed shaking when she started fucking into you roughly.

you were almost fully awake now, feeling how full of your girlfriend’s cock you were, moaning lightly at the way sana pushed up against your sweet spot.

“s- sana..”

“aww, is my baby finally up? change your mind?”

sana stopped and waited for your approval, or any sign that you were genuinely uncomfortable.

“no, please. keep going..”

she leaned down to kiss your cheek, moving down to your neck, the smell of alcohol on her breath pungent.

“i knew you wanted it, baby. such a pretty fucking slut for me. you’d let me use you anytime, wouldn’t you?”

your breathy moans and whines encouraged sana to fuck you even faster than before, her growing urge to cum inside you being the only thing on her mind.

sana straightened herself back up and grabbed your hips, pulling you closer to her so that you were supported on your knees, face still down on your pillow.

her bruising grip stayed on both sides of your waist, resuming her animalistic speed.

you clutched onto the sheets below you, screaming out in pleasure into your silk pillow.

sana hated that your moans were muffled, she needed to hear every pretty sound you made.

her right hand left your side and made its way up to your hair, grabbing a fistful of your strands, yanking forcefully until you were flush up against her.

you yelped at her roughness, moaning at the way it turned you on twice as much.

“fuck, sana. just like that, fuck- please don’t fucking stop.”

“yeah? you like it when i fuck you like the toy you are? hm? ‘love it when i use you like a fucking fleshlight. dumb slut can’t even think right when i’m fuckin’ her this good.”

you moaned uncontrollably at sana’s words, your mind going blurrier and blurrier.

both you and sana’s moans were in sync, a perfect harmony.

“shit- i’m so fucking close y/n. ‘gna fucking cum inside you.”

“fuck, please, yes, please, i can take it, ‘just fucking get me pregnant.”

you didn’t even realize what you said, too fucked out to think rationally.

sana was basically growling in your ear, holding you tightly against her with her arms wrapped around your waist.

she let her grip on you go, flipping you over and pushing you down on your back, thrusting into you inhumanly fast.

tears rolled out the corners of your eyes, the pleasure overwhelming you.

sana’s hands wrapped around your throat, her eyes staring deeply into yours and her mouth slightly open, letting out short groans and curses.

“fuck fuck fuck, ‘m gonna cum, oh fuck-“

sana slammed her hips down, stilling her movements and moaning every time her cum pulsed out of her cock.

you felt her warm liquid filling you up, whining at the way her dick twitched inside you.

her hands loosened from your neck, her body crashing down onto yours as she tried to catch her breath.

she didn’t pull out yet, her dick too sensitive to move.

you reached your hands up to her hair, raking your fingers through her tangles, stroking her head gently.

the sleepiness was sneaking its way back to you, your eyes fluttering closed.

after a couple minutes of sana laying on top of you, she pulled out and looked up at you, kissing her way down your body.

she reached your sticky, cum-filled core, hovering over it with hungry eyes.

“let me clean you up, baby.”

you didn’t even care that sana stayed out too late anymore, she definitely made up for it.

[cloveroctobers]

UPSIDE DOWN — [October Randoms!] 🧡

A/N: just a few little blurbs basically inspired by this TikTok trend. S/o to Jacob Scipio & Madelaine Petsch’s video being the first I’ve seen! Thought it be would cute to write something real quick surrounding a few characters I’m loving rn 😜

WARNINGS: if you don’t know me by now, language! + suggestive themes, & wlw!

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

ARMANDO:

You’d bug him about doing it but he wouldn’t budge. He just didn’t see the point until you started to challenge his strength. Once you did that, that undermining shit that’s when you pushed a nerve. He’ll plot against you, and catch you off guard, maybe when you’re in the bathroom doing a night or morning routine.

He’ll sneak right up behind you, crouching before he pops up, making you gasp and flail around as he flips you upside down in your PJ’s. He’ll hold you there for a second, smirking down at you but you can’t see that since he’s pulling your ass up over his left shoulder, holding onto your ribcage and providing you with a nice stretch.

“Arman!” You yell, hands reaching out to the floor—just in case—with your lip balm now rolling against the tile floor, “okay we get it, you’re Hercules. Put me down now.”

“Talk to me nice from now on, okay mami?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You mutter, “who needs Pilates when I got you?”

He snorts as he spins you around the back of his neck, taking careful hold of your hips before setting you back down on your own feet. You hold onto his hand that’s resting on your right hip and with a huff you say, “now we need to do that again for the camera.”

Armando lightly pushes you back to the sink, “nope. I’m getting in bed to watch the game, sorry not sorry the world missed out on these guns…but at least you didn’t, huh?” He winks at you before kissing his bare muscles.

ANGEL:

You’re on the thicker side so when you showed these videos to your man one night when you’re lounging in bed, finding how cute and fun they were Angel says with a scoff, “I can do that shit. They ain’t special.”

With a sigh and a nod you say, “I’m sure you can. Most of the ones they always show at the top makes it seem like it’s for the petites though.”

Angel, who’s been lounging on his elbow, furrows his brows at your words from over your shoulder, “Whatchu mean by that?”

Then his phone is ringing off the hook and he has to meet the rest of his brothers in the middle of the night but a kiss to your lips and a promise that this, “conversation ain’t over,” is said to you before he leaves.

Honestly you forgot about that conversation as a week went by. When you show up to the club to drop something off for Angel that he left at home, he’s outside getting ready to head over to his bike until he spots your car.

He greets you with a scratchy kiss to your cheek, thanking you for the item he left behind this morning. Angel then tells you to get your camera out, much to your confusion.

“We’re gonna film that cutesy shit you were talking about last week before you get outta here. C’mon.” He waves you back to his bike, while you’re still frowning, “I don’t got all day, querida. Get your sexy ass over here.”

You get the extra tripod that’s in your backseat and set it up a nice distance from his bike. Of course Angel wanted a shot of the bike in the frame as he stood off to the side of it, hands clasped right in front of him as you back up towards him.

The countdown is heard and just in time, Angel’s tatted hands are right on your waist flipping you and walking around with you a bit with his middle finger raised towards the camera. You’re laughing just as he’s bringing you upright and you spin around to hold onto his chest, catching your breath.

“Let me know when we go, viral.” He smirks, hands slipping down to squeeze your backside and kisses your lips.

CANE:

“Oh, okay now I’m really not doin’ that shit,” Cane replies with a side eye, after you cut whatever game he was playing off.

Your hands are on your hips, “and why the hell not? Scared you’re gonna drop me on my head?”

Cane chuckles, “nah, I’m convinced somebody in your family already did.”

“Fuck you and your bug eyes.”

“word? So now I’m ugly?”

You shrug as you step out of the living room in the penthouse, annoyance was heavy in your tone, “you said it, not me.”

Cane rolled his eyes, tossing the controller onto the couch, “aight don’t tell me you’re about to have a funky ass attitude with me now all because I said I don’t want to do this dumbass challenge?”

You’re in the kitchen, continuing to fix yourself something to eat, “you think it’s dumb, fine. I’ll just find another man who can do the job properly anyway.”

“…what?” Cane turns his eyes into slits, “another who?” He pressed, pushing off the couch to meet you in the kitchen.

You bit back a smirk as you put your back to Cane with a sigh and pushed off the counter to open the fridge back up, “you heard me. Maybe you don’t want to do it because you can’t…I know you don’t like seeming weak in front of me and I accept that—

“Fuck all that.” Cane sucks his teeth, “get over here, you’re not about to play in my face tonight.”

You flirt, “I thought you liked it when i put it in your face?”

“Cute,” Cane licks his bottom lip before waving you over with one hand, “Now show me what I need to do.”

And he always learned fast, holding you up in the air with one arm and shoots a grin at the camera before talking his shit down at you, then hides his face behind your body again. In cane fashion, he shook his face against your ass before walking over to cut the camera, so he can show you just what no other man couldn’t do.

TERRY:

You’re out biking together and decided to take a break, surrounded by trees that were bigger than the man of your dreams. Thankfully Terry was down for a water break because the heat was still rising—even though it was October— y’all lived in the south and didn’t need either of you to pass out from the heat.

Terry was usually calm cool and collected but he liked to flex every now and then, plus he already agreed to doing the, “challenge,” he spun you to face him, sharp green eyes already set on you. Before your eyebrow could lift at what he was thinking in that strong willed brain of his, the count down was started and he bends while not taking his eyes off you.

At the last minute he spins you back by the hips before trailing his hands up your sides first, then yanks you upside down, lifting you above his shoulder instead of just at his torso, which meant work for you to keep your legs straight, then he starts to lower you by your waist and then up again as if you’re his own personal bench press. Letting him have his moment, grunts and all being heard as he stares at the camera straight-faced, you’re the one to tap out just before the video finishes.

Once you’re back on your feet, you meet Terry’s eyes with a roll of yours followed by a pant, “show off.”

“Now it’s my turn.” His lips twitch as you glanced behind yourself because…who was he talking to?

“I love you but I’m not about to break my arms for you.” You say, while Terry leans forward to kiss your forehead with a chuckle.

Then with a slap to your backside, which definitely stung, he nods his head towards your bikes and says calmly, “You’re gonna have to put those legs and arms to work still. I just saw a brown bear five miles back and some feces about a mile back so…i think break time is over.”

Snatching up your tripod with the swiftness, you lowered it and shoved it in your bag as you side eyed Terry who’s waiting for you on his bike, earphone already in one ear, “I hate your calmness so much at times and one of those times happens to be right now, if i wasn’t scared, I’d kick your ass.”

“That doesn’t sound like a thank you,” Terry says leaning over his bike, “I just gave you a little happiness and now here you are, threatening me.”

It was giving, “help the bear!” And you weren’t with it!

You nod your head vigorously, “Yeah that’s right because we could have done this at home!” You kick off and start peddling, “so now I’m gonna have to kick your ass on this bike and beat you home. So you better keep up, Richmond!”

“Yes ma’am, i will,” he says easily keeping pace and following behind you as you take the lead down the bumpy pathway, “you know i got your back, front, and all sides.”

Scoffing over your shoulder at Terry’s attempt to flirt with you right now, you work hard checking every angle just like you were trained to do and always watch your back, not because you had doubts that Terry couldn’t keep up with you, you always wanted to watch his back as well—especially if a damn grizzly bear had the potential to knock you both upside down.

…later when you both made it safely home and were lounging after a shared shower, Terry rolls his head to press against your temple after placing a few kisses against your skin, “you know there wasn’t a bear right?”

“Excuse me?” You feel your eye twitch.

“You never know though.” Terry states, “best to be prepared.”

Too exhausted you reply, “you know what…I’m not going on anymore survivor bullshit adventures with you!”

Terry pulls back to stare at you until you meet his eyes, “yes you are.”

“Want to bet?” You sit up a little while there’s that glint of amusement that appears in Terry’s green hues.

He gets right in your personal space, forehead brushing right against yours, “do you?”

You gulp.

STELLA:

Having your own following, you had your supporters control what you did today. It was a Saturday, you just left the cafe with them picking your choice of drink and pastry while doing some work at the cafe for about an hour almost two, which gave them enough time to decide what you were to do next. Smiling to yourself after seeing which challenge was selected, you texted your girlfriend to see if she was down at the station before ordering her a cold brew to go.

You weren’t a cold brew kinda person but Stella had the strongest of stomach’s, which made sense considering she was a whole ass firefighter and you knew your girlfriend would be thrilled to see you and coffee—not just depending on what kind of day it was at 51.

“There she is!” Stella’s all grins while the rest of her team are running drills.

You wave at Gallo, Mouch, and Carver who return the action with a pant and hold out the beverage to the dark haired woman, who had her lips out first before her hands. Laughing a little you meet her lips, pecking them multiple times until she deemed that as satisfactory before she takes the drink into her hands.

“And what the hell are you drinking?” Her nose crinkles.

This wasn’t unfamiliar, sometimes the both of you would budge and try the other’s just to hate it.

“Want to try?”

“Uh uh,” Stella winces, then sighs as she brings the drink to her lips and with a pop of her tongue she says, “my girl, always gonna get me right every time! You been busy today, huh?”

“Yeah had a meeting about the next direction i want to take my blog in after the last poll i posted and needed a little pick me up to get through the rest of this Saturday,” you inform, “you’re the pick me up.”

Stella teases as she points at herself, “Little ‘Ol me?”

“Yes you.” You joke back as you peer up at her.

“I’m flattered!”

“I know you are.”

Stella reached to cup your face, staring at you lovingly before her eyes go into slits, “what do you want?”

You laugh, “wooow! Can’t i just come say hi?”

“Sure but we’ve both been busy lately and usually don’t have the time to pop in and say hey so…what do they want?”

You push your lips out, looking away before looking back shyly at Stella who scoffs out a laugh. “Spit it out!”

“It won’t take long, but it’s a trend going on right now.”

“‘Course it is.” She nods.

You’re already pulling out your phone for her, she moves to stand behind you, still sipping on her drink before lowering her face towards your shoulder, burying her nose there for a second before you bring up one of the videos from your likes.

“So…you want me to do that?” Stella questions after getting the gist of it.

You nod, “you did always say you wanted to try new positions…”

“Whew! Stella, looks like you found somebody to match your freak?” Gallo calls out, making Stella raise her brows and whip to face the younger man.

Carver playfully shoves the dark haired man while Mouch looks confused on that terminology.

“Did I tell you to stop? Just for that, Blake! You’re all going to run it five more times.”

“Five?!” Carver calls out, “what the hell, gallo?”

Mouch slaps a gloved hand to his head in irritation.

Gallo appears sheepish at his team mates, mumbling sorries while you send a wink his way, making him quirk up a small smile at you, since you found it funny.

Stella pulls you further away from her truck, “did your supporters tell you, I couldn’t do it or somethin’?”

“I actually haven’t checked my DM’s but who gives a shit what they have to say? I just thought it would not only be cute but sexy to see you do it in your work attire.” You run a hand down Stella’s long torso.

She takes a big swish of cold brew before placing it on the floor near Squad three’s truck. Stella clasps her hands together, cracks them, and then rubs them together. “Let’s do this, babe! I gotcha, you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

“Oh, I’m not worried.” You place your drink by her’s on the ground, “I know my woman’s strength.”

Stella’s always been competitive, it’s one of the things you loved about her and one of the things she did to get your attention.

“Damn straight!” Stella runs her teeth over her bottom lip, “let’s show these douchebags what I’m made of.”

You laugh, “babe, there’s no one challenging you remember?”

“Not yet. We’re about to set the standard, let’s go before I get snatched away on call!”

You stand in front of her, staring at her over your shoulder hard and she can read your mind. She fans her hand for you to turn back around, “I’ve got no plans on letting you slip through my fingers, don’t doubt me.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not—

It’s like you forgot that you turned the timer on and Stella’s listening while the rest of her team are being nosy and watching. You’re cut off, letting out a scream as she turns your feet up into the air, holding you there as your hands clasp your mouth, hiding your giggles before she switches you into the position where your legs are around her hips.

“Yeah!” She yells at the camera over your shoulder, holding onto you before you’re moving her face by the chin to meet your lips.

Mouch let’s out a wolf whistle with Gallo and Carver clap it up.

“Knew you had it in you, baby.” You breathe as Stella puts you down.

Stella grins, “my biggest cheerleader. You’re alright though?”

“Course!”

Gallo calls out, “I want to try next!”

“No!” Stella points at Gallo who deflates.

“Try what?” Hermann’s nasally tone is heard, followed by Ritter, Cruz, and Capp who came out behind him.

Doing what Gallo does, he tells them what you came here for and even grabs your phone to show what you two just did.

Hermann frowns, “I can do that!”

“Hundred bucks says Cindy won’t let you do it.” Stella points at the older man who scoffs at the woman.

Ritter adds, “wouldn’t it just be easier to continue on our subject right here?”

Cruz laughs, “way to make them sound like a science experiment!”

“I definitely did not mean it that way.” Ritter is apologetic while you just brush it off, knowing that the guy means no harm as you walk over trying to get your phone back from Gallo who’s showing the video to Capp now.

Capp says, “what’s so hard about that?!”

“Says the guy who got a boot stuck on his head.” Joe mutters to you.

“Exactly!” Hermann roars referring to Capp’s first response, “and Cindy would let me do that if I provided enough of those little videos you got inspired by!”

“Okay then shake my hand on it!” Stella orders already in disbelief, while Hermann huffs, slapping his hand right into Stella’s.

“Hey, I heard that.” Capp points at Joe, “and it was one time! What do you think? I’m going to drop her into the ground and they’ll get stuck?”

Your eyes go wide as Gallo hands back your phone, “um…I’m gonna go now. Plenty of work to get back to, just like you first responders!”

Quickly you turn and head back to Stella to peck her cheek before running off to pick up your drink.

“Look what you did, Capp. Scaring them off!” Mouch yells at the bald man who frowns.

Stella tries to call out to you but you just chuck up the deuces and turn around to kiss at your fingers multiple times, before throwing them towards the woman but made no motion of slowing down.

When Stella gets back to her office after a very long call, she texts you to let you know she won’t be back home until the morning so don’t wait up for her. With that she also sends a final text: you’re right, I am looking forward to something new…especially after today 🤸‍♂️🫦

It only takes you a minute to send a risqué photo right back, you in one of Stella’s favorite thong’s that made your backside look out of this world and you were doing exactly that, in a hand stand with you saying: like this? See you when you get home 😉💋

You knew just how to drive her crazy because before Stella can find the words to say, she’s placed on do not disturb—not for the rest of the night—you wouldn’t dare, not with the kind of job she does but just enough to make her sweat it out.

That Stella did as she bit down on her knuckle, burning the image of you in her mind before she locked her phone and turned it over face down on her desk. 

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

Continue with my October anthology prompts here.

[purplecoffee13]

NFWMB - part 3

Summary: “Harry runs into Y/N in the last place he expected her to be on a random Wednesday evening…”

Wc: 3.1k

Tropes: boxer!harry x innocent!reader

Warnings: none, really

A/N: hi lovely people, hereby I give you part 3 of NFWMB! Be mindful that this is a longer series so the build-up will, therefore, also take longer. It’s a bit of a short part but I promise the next one will make up for it! I also want to thank my bestie for constantly brainstorming this plot with me you know who you are ILYYY🥰🥰🤭🙏❤️ ENJOYYY

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Harry had been restless ever since he said goodbye to Y/N and stepped into his car yesterday. It was like his whole body was screaming at him to turn around and kiss her. He had never felt such a need to do it before. Never experienced his body pulling him to hers like magnets, as if he couldn't breathe properly again until he kissed her.

It was scary, to say the least.

He'd had crushes before, or just people he'd found attractive and sometimes popped up in his fantasies, but this was different. It was almost laughable. How did he even know it was different, Harry ridiculed himself. He'd seen the girl— what? Two, three times now?

And then, like clockwork, that lovingly ache in his stomach would multiply in response, and Harry just knew. It was risky, he was aware of that as well, but he just wanted her close, one way or another. Even if he'd have to wait until the day she didn't want self-defense classes anymore to ask her on a date, he would, although it felt almost physically impossible to think of being that close to her and never being able to kiss her.

If he could just kiss her...

Harry frowned, staring blankly towards the heap of paperwork on his desk. He had been busy with this for the last two hours, and his daydreaming about Y/N was the only reason it was not yet finished. He tried to read again, but the letters on the paper just wouldn't form into words. Sighing, Harry looked up from his desk, looking out into the training room, which was on the empty side. It was lunchtime now, so it would fill up again in an hour or two.

The sight of Y/N walking through the room had Harry leaping from his chair. He blinked a couple times, making sure he wasn't dreaming or anything. Nope, he was not dreaming at all, Y/N was in the gym.

Not only that, she was also wearing tight sports leggings. It was paired with a wide oversized sweatshirt that covered most of her ass, but Harry let out a breath anyway as he shamelessly observed her long legs. This was not helping his case at all.

He stayed surprisingly still as he watched Y/N walk over to the treadmill, looking around the room before she steps on it. Harry tilted his head when he noticed her furiously pushing some buttons, and she began running faster and faster.

Where did she learn to run so fast? Why is she running so fast? She must be relieving some frustrations. He’d had days where his adrenaline overflowed as well.

He wanted to go up to her and talk to her, but he stopped himself before he could reach the door. He needed to finish this paperwork before he could do that. It would be great motivation to hurry the fuck up.

So, he did. He finished the paperwork in twenty minutes. It was embarrassing how little time it actually took now that he wasn't daydreaming about Y/N the entire time. It was even more embarrassing to realize that the only reason his daydreams were subsiding was because she was out there, a couple feet away.

Pathetic!

He kept shouting it at himself, yet he still couldn’t seem to care that he was acting like a lovesick teenager. With a smile, he got up from his desk and walked into the training room, going straight for the treadmills.

His face faltered, however, at the sight of empty treadmills. Harry walked over to the one he last saw Y/N on, and his brows raised at the digits he read.

She ran 7 kilometers in thirty minutes? That was incredibly fast. He would have a lot of difficulty with keeping up, he wasn't even sure if he could keep up if he tried. Why didn't she ever mention she was a running miracle?

The sound of a familiar laugh made Harry's ears perk up, and his stomach fluttered as he turned around to look for Y/N. Whatever was fluttering in his stomach died on the spot, however, when he finally caught sight of Y/N... with another man.

She was standing with Alan, one of the personal trainers he hired. Harry had always been careful with his application process, and although he knew Alan was a good guy, he the urge to drop kick him to the ground was too strong to ignore.

How could he possibly have made her laugh like that? How funny did he have to be to make that sound fall from her lips? Harry scoffed to himself, shaking his head as he approached the two.

"Hey!" He conjured a smile for Y/N, which was easy to do, especially since her face lightened up at the sight of him. It told him she felt comfortable in his presence. The assurance that ran through his veins felt like being cuddled up in a warm blanket on a snowy winters' day.

"Harry, hi!" She greeted him, seeming to forget about Alan existence entirely until he greeted Harry. She finally blinked, taking her back to reality.

"Hey man." Alan greeted him casually. Harry just nodded in a response, a small 'hey' falling from his lips before turning his attention Y/N again.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, eyes twinkling with enthusiasm which he hoped would translate into his words as well. Y/N looked away for a second, cheeks turning red as she fiddled with her hands.

"Just— blowing off some steam."

That was definitely a lie, Harry could tell. Not only because she was a terrible liar, but also because she had a habit of looking away and fiddling with stuff whenever she was scared to tell the truth— wait, her hand...

A small stabbing ache filled Harry's chest as he noticed the wrapped bandage around Y/N's palm. He turned to Alan.

"Don't you have a two o'clock?"

It was a bit harsher than Harry usually was towards his employees. He was a stern boss, but still the kind to have a nice chat with. This was a bit out of character for him, but he couldn’t care less about that now. He needed to know what happened, and Y/N would never be comfortable with telling the truth if Alan was still there.

It didn't take more than two seconds for Alan to realize what the true situation here was, raising his brows as he immediately took a step back— literally and figuratively.

"Right. See you around, Y/N." He winked at her as he walked off. Harry clenched his jaw—the pile of profanities in his mind reserved for Alan slowly growing—and eyed the girl next to him, who gave his employee a small wave as he finally disappeared.

"So," Harry looked down at Y/N's hand. "Tell me, what's really going on?"

Y/N shrugged. "Nothing. Busy day at work, so I came here to blow off some steam."

Bullshit. He didn't buy into that being the whole story. She was definitely not telling him everything, but then again, they didn't know each other very well so it was completely valid for her not to bombard him with all her secrets. He wished he could just tell her that she could trust him.

"You ran really fast." He decided to go a different route. When she didn't necessarily respond to that, he added, "like, impressively fast."

"I just had a lot of extra energy to sweat out." Another excuse rolled off her tongue, and Harry decided to stop trying to coax a real answer out of her. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable, but he couldn't resist asking one last question, though.

"What happened to your hand?"

Y/N frowned, looking down at her hand, as if only just now remembering that it was visible to other people as well. The pained look on her face stirred a feeling of worry in Harry. He hated that he couldn't read her thoughts and make sure she was really okay.

"Just my regular clumsiness." She said, sounding strained.

"Y/N, you know you can talk to me—"

"Hey! Are you going to Sophie's party?" She suddenly chimed in, cutting Harry off. He was so thrown off by the question that he couldn't think of anything clever enough to intercept her interruption.

"Uh, yes." He answered blankly.

"Oh thank God. I was hoping you'd say that, I was afraid I wasn't going to know anyone there." She smiled at him, and every other thought that Harry had had in the last hour suddenly flew out of the window. The corners of his mouth pulled up.

"Isn't Sophie inviting other colleagues as well?" He asked, still grinning from that smile she just gave him.

"Yes... but Sophie runs with the cool crowd."

Harry chuckled. "You make it sound like it's high school."

"That's because it is." She shrugged. "Sophie is with the popular kids, like a cheerleader."

"And what does that make you?" Harry tilted his head. Y/N tilted her head, thinking it over for a few seconds, before she answered:

"The audiovisual geek."

A snort escaped Harry's throat. He hadn't expected that answer at all, nor did he believe it to be true. An angel like Y/N being at the bottom of this food chain she was explaining? She was clearly undermining herself, once again.

"What? It's true!" She exclaimed, giggling softly as she watched Harry shake his head.

"Well, I'll be there, so at least you'll have one friendly face around."

"Good. But I'm warning you, I'm probably going to be clung to your side the entire night, so be prepared to get sick of me." She teased.

She teased. Was she flirting with him? By the way her lit up, doe eyes were looking at her, it kind of seemed like she was. She was especially bold today. Last week she had to chug half a water bottle after Harry touched her. He fought back the smirk that threatened to break out on his face as he answered, deciding to play into her cheekiness.

"That won't be a problem, love."

Y/N's smile faltered ever so slightly, her cheeks turning a rosy red much like they always did whenever Harry would say something like this. She swallowed, quickly eyeing at the ground before meeting Harry's gaze again, as if reminding herself to get herself together.

"Uhm, anyway, I just— I had a question... about the self defense classes."

Harry had to keep himself from laughing at how quickly she had gotten flustered, and quirked up a brow to indicate she go on.

"I want to build some muscle. You know, gain some extra strength, like you said last week." She clarified. Harry hummed, crossing his arms. "Well, Alan was telling me that he's a personal trainer, and he has these plans for beginners. Do you think it would be a good idea if I did that?"

Abso-fucking-lutely NOT.

"No." He said, his selfishness getting ahead of him.

"Oh."

The sound was small, but Harry could hear the severe disappointment. Oh god, was an absolute monster. The poor angel was telling him about wanting to put in extra effort and here he was, rejecting her idea with harshness that wasn't even reserved for her. It was reserved for Alan, and his nose, which he was going to break soon.

"I think it'd be better if I make you a custom plan, one that'll match with the self defense classes." He elaborated. To be honest, that wasn't exactly the reason why he'd said no in the first place, but he simply did not want her to be around Alan if she could be around him.

"Oh, okay." Y/N responded, her eyes lit up at the sound of his promise. "If it's not too much trouble."

Harry scoffed. "Not at all, angel."

There it went, the nickname rolled off his tongue again. He couldn't help it, it was just so easy. Despite Harry's display of coolness, he eyed Y/N to see what her reaction was to the nickname. The last time, she'd ran away, literally. She basically sprinted to her apartment. Now, her bottom lip was stuck between her teeth as she fought a smile.

He could've sworn he was going into cardiac arrest. This was the best possible reaction to him calling her angel. It was also the worst, because now all Harry could focus on were those damn plump lips.

"I should probably get a gym membership then, huh?" She tried to fill the silence that fell when Harry stopped trying to keep the conversation going and decided to just admire her face instead.

"We can take care of that next week." He said, his eyes trailing down to her lips and back up. Y/N looked like a deer in headlights, her mouth opening ever so slightly to say something, but a loud voice interrupted the both of them.

"Y/N?!"

Both their heads whipped around to see Sophie standing in the door opening. Other people were looking at the crazy woman in the doorway as well, but Sophie didn't care as she marched towards Y/N and Harry.

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh, just blowing off some steam." She smiled, using the same excuse she'd told Harry. "Wanted to go for a run outside but it's pouring rain, so I thought this would be a better option."

Sophie nodded, not entirely convinced as her eyes darted between Y/N and Harry. The sole look on her face told Harry that he wasn't going to be let off the hook so easily as soon as Sophie got him alone, which would be soon, because Y/N was quick to say

"I'm gonna go... I've got some paperwork to finish at home." She stammered, taking a few steps towards the door.

"Of course, good luck sweetie. See you tomorrow?" Sophie's voice was soft like honey as she addressed her angel of a friend. Y/N nodded and gave her a hug before peeping a small 'bye' to Harry and rushing out the door.

Harry couldn't stop staring at her, not as she walked out the door, nor as she walked to her car. He felt like he'd waste her beauty if he didn't just look at her all the time. Like, if he didn't appreciate it enough now, if he didn't memorize all the details on her face, he would regret if she suddenly left his life.

"You are going to tell me what the fuck is going on right now." Sophie's voice cut through the thoughts that clouded his common sense. When he turned his head to her, her face was stern. A born lawyer.

"Nothing." Harry frowned at her, a bit frustrated with the fact that he was speaking the truth himself. He wished he had more to lie about other than his boyish crush on Y/N. Unfortunately, 'more' seemed to be quite out of reach.

"I wasn't born yesterday, Harry. Just tell me." Sophie put her hands on her hips, waiting for her to spill her guts. Instead, Harry shrugged. He had nothing to confess, because he and Y/N were just friends. Not even, they weren't even friends. Just trainer and trainee. For some reason, that realization stung a whole lot.

"I told you, nothing is going on." He growled. Sophie raised her brows; she'd clearly hit a nerve and the expression on her face read 'bingo!'. But she didn't push him, something Harry was expecting her to do.

"Listen, Harry. You're one of my dearest friends, and I'll always support your decisions, but I'm telling you right now... be careful." She warned him slowly, the serious tone of voice making Harry's ears perk up more at what she said.

"Y/N is a great girl, sweetest person I've ever met. But she's young, Harry, and she's only lived a very secluded life so far." She explained, and Harry clenched his jaw, heart straining at the confrontational tone. "If you're serious about her, great! I love her, she's amazing and I think you'd be very good for each other. But if you view this is a 'one and done' kind of situation, then I strongly suggest you pick someone else because she really likes you, I can see it."

The corner of his mouth quirked up. "You think she likes me?"

The next sound that left him was a yelp, flinching at Sophie's hand punching against his upper arm.

"Was that seriously the only thing you got from my speech?" She squinted her eyes at her friend. He only had that cheeky grin on his face.

"It was the part that stood out most." He wiggled his eyebrows, earning another slap against his arm. Harry hissed, moving away from Sophie. "God you hit hard, do you take self defense classes or something?"

"You have five seconds to disappear or I'll go full Kung Fu on your ass, Harry." Sophie grunted, pouting an accusatory finger at him.

"Actually, what I teach is not called Kung Fu—" She corrected her, having too much fun with this situation. He wasn't able to stop himself from teasing his friend, mainly because he didn't want to. Harry was in a bit of a cheeky mood now that Sophie had told him Y/N liked him.

"Two more seconds Harry." She growled, rolling up her sleeves.

"And speaking of self defense, your punch was kind of weak. Have you been lifting those weights we talked about—"

"Time's up!" Sophie exclaimed, and before she'd finished her sentence, Harry was running back to his office. He was in his office just in time to lock the door and laugh at the middle fingers Sophie was holding up for him. After a few minutes, she gave up and began to exercise, leaving Harry alone with his running mind.

"...because she really likes you, I can see it." 

He was aware that he was grinning like an idiot as he replayed that sentence over and over in his head while creating a membership card for Y/N on his computer and sending the bill to his own bank account, but he didn't give a fuck. He didn't care if the whole word could see him giddy over this angel of his, in fact, he would only love to show her off.

She liked him. He couldn't believe it.

Taglist: @meetmeatyourworst @mema10 @seafoamwhispers @namoreno @inkedskin @fangirl509east @mellamolayla @lizsogolden @prettydelilah

[choke-me-joey]

Matching Tattoos

Eddie Munson x reader

Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, DO NOT GIVE ANYONE OR YOURSELF TATTOOS AT HOME FOR THE LOVE OF GOD GO TO A PROFESSIONAL THIS IS FICTION AND A VERY UNHYGIENIC SITUATION FOR NEW TATTOOS, blowjobs, gagging, swallowing, friends to lovers, Eddie is so fucking sweet, porn with some plot followed by fluff.

Part 2

"Isn't she pretty?" Eddie grins, producing the homemade tattoo gun from under his bed. Pretty was a very strong word. More like a clump of sketchy looking metal held together with even sketchier looking screws and rubber bands.

You scoff. "If you think she's pretty I'm seriously starting to question your taste, Munson. Going from Chrissy Cunningham to this? That's quite a decline."

Eddie rolls his eyes.

"You're never going to drop that are you? Chrissy was a 5 minute crush, besides, she's been dating that douchebag Jason Carver for ages now." Eddie waves his hand to signify his distate. "Anyway, nowadays my taste is more...refined, thank you very much. Hence why I am going through the world's longest dry spell at the moment. Now shut up, and get on the bed. We're doing this." He buzzes the tattoo gun for extra effect.

"Yessir." Giving him a cheeky salute, you lie down on Eddie's bed as he messes around with the ink, and something crinkles beneath you. Your brow furrows as you dig underneath you, and you pull out a dog eared magazine. You flick through the pages, your cheeks flushing. "Jesus, Eddie, resorting to porno mags? You really are suffering." You throw the crusty magazine at him, laughing. Eddie quickly kicks it under his bed.

"What? I got needs, Y/N, and its not exactly like there's a line of babes wanting to fuck the town freak."

"Not even with the whole struggling rockstar vibe you've got going on?" You cock your eyebrow, shooting him a smirk.

"Right? I should be drowning in pussy," he grins, and you roll your eyes. "Still want it on your hip, right?"

"As long as it can be covered by a bathing suit so my parents don't murder me, have at it."

Eddie gulps as you unbutton your jeans, shimmying your hips out of them and exposing your simple black panties to him. You then roll your shirt up your stomach and tie it in a knot to prevent it from getting in his way.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen you like this before, he'd seen you in a bathing suit hundreds of times but this....this was different. This was you, half naked, on his bed. You that Eddie had been harbouring a crush on for a good year or so now, hence the dry spell. He didn't want anyone else, he wanted you, his best friend, his partner in crime, his girl. Nobody in this deadbeat town even came close, not anymore.

He was ashamed to even admit that the magazine you'd fished out from his bed was merely a distraction tool. So many nights he'd fucked his fist thinking of you, the way your body glistened in the sun that time when you sunbathed out the back of his trailer in that black bikini, the way your breasts threatened to spill out of the cups and your ass peeked out from the bottoms that left very little to the imagination.

He had to get you out of his head. It was sick, it was wrong, you were his best friend. His beautiful, funny, smart, sexy as hell best friend. If he had to beat off to some random chick in a disgustingly cheap porno magazine just to stop him thinking about you, so be it.

But honestly, when you'd asked him to give you a tattoo on your hip, the magazines just weren't doing it anymore.

Eddie cleared his throat. "You sure about this Y/N?"

"Eddie, shut up and ink me already," you smile, playfully nudging him with your foot. "You drew it up, yeah?"

"One bat comin' at ya," Eddie grins, showing you the little stencil he'd drawn. It was an exact copy of the largest bat out of the swarm on his arm. "You know we can never not be friends after this right? Matching tattoos is a pretty big commitment."

"Until death do us part." You teased.

"I fuckin' do," Eddie kissed your hand, making you snort. Your friendship had always been like this, flirty to the point where people were always wondering if you were together or not. But that's all it ever was, all bark and no bite per say. "Can you move your, uh, your-"

"Panties, Eddie? For someone who used the phrase 'drowning in pussy' earlier I refuse to believe 'panties' gets you all flustered." You tease, pushing down your panties and exposing your skin to him.

Eddie can feel his palms sweating as your panties slip dangerously low, almost exposing that dip between your legs. His mouth is as dry as the fucking desert when he catches a glimpse of your smooth, soft skin. God, he wants to put his mouth there. He wants to put his mouth all over you actually. He coughs once more.

"Right, let's do this, pretty girl." He carefully cleans the area you want tattooed with some antiseptic liquid before laying the stencil down, carefully pulling it away to reveal the outline on your skin. "Looks metal, babe, you ready?"

You nod, clutching his comforter in one hand as he brings the needle to your skin and the buzzing starts. You bite your lip as you feel the needle meet your flesh, a searing burning pain but not too unbearable.

As he drags the needle across your soft skin, Eddie is sweating. He's so close to a part of you he desperately wants to explore, to kiss and lick and make you scream his name until you're sobbing in ecstasy. But he can't. Why would someone like you ever be interested in the town freak? The nerdy metalhead that spends his free time planning extensive D&D campaigns, or playing in shitty dive bars to a crowd of not even 10 people didn't compare to the jocks who went to endless parties, or did something better than spending their spring break in their trailer getting high and watching horror movies.

"Whatcha thinking about, handsome?" Your sweet, sweet voice breaks him out of his thoughts and he looks up at you. God, you look like a fucking angel right now, all draped across his bed with your hair over his pillow. He knows he'll be able to smell the shampoo you use on that later.

Eddie, always one to almost never lose his cool, shoots you a cheeky grin.

"Thinkin' about how I could tattoo my name on you, pretty Make sure everyone knows who's girl you are."

"Everyone already knows, I've only got eyes for you, dungeon master."

Fuck, he wishes you wouldn't call him that. Not like this anyway. Not with this amount clothes on. Or not on.

"Less of the dirty talk, you. I'm trying to concentrate here." He growls, wiping the residual ink off your skin, refilling and continuing his work. You try to ignore the throbbing in your panties and how good his hands feel on your bare skin.

-

35 minutes later, it's Eddie's turn. After cleaning and covering your new artwork, you get yourself dressed (much to Eddie's disappointment) and turn to him with a wicked grin.

"Pants off, Munson."

"Yes, ma'am." Copying your salute from earlier, he unbuckles his handcuff belt and undoes his jeans, shimmying out of them and tossing them somewhere in his room. He also pulls off his Hellfire shirt. You raise an eyebrow. "What? Can't risk anything happening to it, I gotta wait another week before I can get more!"

"Alright, nerd, lie down." You smile, rummaging around in your bag for the little design you'd drawn up for him. You pass the small design of the devil from the Hellfire logo to him and he grins.

"That's metal."

"So metal that nobody is gonna see it unless they're going down on you."

"Yeah, but we'll know it's there. It'll be like our dirty little secret, Y/N."

"Hot," you laugh as Eddie lies down, putting his arms behind his head. He tilts his head down towards his hips.

"Get to work, missy."

You'd been practising on that gross fake skin stuff in preparation for this, but nothing could have prepared you for touching Eddie...here. His skin was so soft and warm, and he smelled so good. A mix of his old cologne he'd gotten from you last Christmas, smoke and a hint of sweat. It was so Eddie, it made your heart flutter and somewhere else flutter too.

You think Eddie takes the needle like a champ, but when you look up at him about 20 minutes later, his eyes are screwed shut.

"Hurt that much?" You grin and he shakes his head, eyes still closed.

"Nah, babe, honestly, I'm...fine." He hesitates. You stop for a second, tilting your head to the side in question. You go to wipe off some of the excess ink and your arm brushes over his boxers accidentally.

Oh.

"Eddie, are you-"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up, don't talk about it." Eddie chokes out, his cheeks flushing. His loose plaid boxers had done a good job of hiding his semi, but when you'd brushed against it, it was game over.

Eddie was hard.

"I-is this like a normal reaction to getting tattooed, or...?" You stutter, your mouth feeling dryer than fucking Gandhi's flip flop.

Eddie sighs, throwing an arm over his face.

"No, it's a normal reaction to a very, very pretty girl hovering near my dick, babe." He says in a small voice. Your cheeks flush as you place the tattoo gun down on his bedside table.

"O-oh. Well, do you want me t-to stop? Or I could help with...I could help you with that?"

Eddie groans behind his arm.

"Babe, don't tease me like that, that's just cruel. 'Sides, wouldn't you feel...weird jerking me off?"

Your mind had not gone to jerking him off. In fact, it had gone a step further.

"Oh, I-I wasn't...I was gonna, um-"

"Blow me?!" Eddie throws his arm off of his face and stares at you, and you pretend you don't notice his cock jumping in his boxers. "You, my super hot best friend Y/N, are seriously offering to suck my dick right now?!"

"I-I’m sorry-"

"Sorry?! What the fuck are you sorry for?! Making all my wet dreams come true?!"

You giggle. "Eddie, shut up."

"No, I'm serious, Y/N, you've been in here-" he sits up and taps the side of his head "-doing some nasty shit for so fucking long. Why do you think I'm jacking off to shitty porno mags instead of chasing pussy?"

You're silent, a slow smile spreading across your face as your hand creeps over his crotch, gently palming at his cock which jumps in your hand.

"Well, lucky for you, dungeon master, you've also been the star of my wet dreams."

Eddie falls back onto his pillows with a groan. "Fuck, I can't believe this is actually fucking happening."

"Tell me what you want to do to me, Eds." Your voice is low and sultry as you give him a squeeze. He looks at you, tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips. You tug at his boxers, giving him a questioning look. He grabs your wrist.

"Are you sure about this, Y/N? Cos if it's a choice between getting off, or keeping you as my best friend, I'd rather keep you babe. Blue balls and all."

You smile softly; Eddie was too sweet for his own good. It was one of the things you loved most about him.

"What about if you get to get off and still keep me?" You say, pushing his hand away and slowly pulling his boxers down. His cock springs out, slapping against his lower stomach. He was long and thick, uncut with an upwards curve that the very sighmade your pussy clench. You huff out an exasperated laugh. "Holy shit, Eds."

"Good 'holy shit', or bad 'holy shit'?" Eddie's cheeks are flushed as he smirks.

"You know the answer to that." You wrap your hand around his cock, making him hiss as you stroke the silky skin. You pull the foreskin down to expose his angry looking, reddish purple mushroom head, and a drop of precum blurts out. You continue to stroke him, eyes fixed on his face.

"Fuck, stop looking at me like that," Eddie groans, his cock twitching in your hand. "'S too much."

"Like what?" You smirk, straddling his thighs. He can't answer you, any sort of answer immediately wiped from his brain as you lower your mouth to the head of his cock and lick, tasting him for the first time. His hips buck, forcing more of his cock into your mouth, making you gag out of surprise.

"Shit, sorry, sorry," Eddie gasps. "Fuck, your mouth feels so fucking good, don't be surprised if I come like, super quick, okay? Been thinking about this for so fucking long you have no idea. And you look....God, you looking so fucking beautiful right now."

You shoot him a soft smile, pressing a kiss to his cock before taking him into your mouth properly, swallowing as much of him down as you can.

Eddie's hand comes to your hair, gently stroking it as you bob your head up and down. The flavour of him blooms over your tongue and makes you hum in appreciation.

"Fuck, babe, your mouth...shit, it's so fucking good, taking my cock so well..."

You pull up and suckle the head, flicking your tongue over the slit. "Holy shit, you're gonna kill me, sweetheart."

You smirk, pulling back and pursing your lips, allowing a glob of spit to fall from your mouth onto the head, dribbling down the shaft. Eddie falls back onto the pillows. "That's it, you've killed me, you're blowing a dead man, baby."

"A dead man who's gonna come in my mouth, right?" You mumble, jerking him quickly, your spit allowing your hand to slide over his shaft with ease. Eddie keens, his teeth gritted.

"You can't say shit like that, angel, I'm about ready to blow as it is."

"Do it, I want it." You reply, taking his cock into the warmth of your mouth once more. You allow him to fuck your face, both hands now resting on the back of your head as you swallowed around him.

"Shit, fuck, oh my fucking god, baby, Y/N, I'm gonna come, fuck I'm gonna come so fucking hard in that pretty mouth of yours, yeah? God, you're such a good girl, so good f'me, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuck!"

Eddie comes with a broken moan, his hips thrusting upwards and his hands holding you in place as his cock pumps rope after rope of cum down your throat. You moan, relishing the taste of him, which makes Eddie shudder at the overstimulation. You swallow everything he gives you. "Fuck, sweetheart, can you show me?"

You begrudgingly take your mouth off of his cock and open your mouth, tilting your head back slightly and sticking your tongue out to show him that you had indeed swallowed his cum. "Holy shit. I'm gonna get hard again." He groans, his chest heaving and his cock twitching slightly. You giggle and place a kiss to it, and Eddie grabs you, pulling you on top of him, careful to avoid the new ink. "I can kiss you, right?"

"I think we're past that, Eddie" You smile and squeak in surprise as he pulls your face to his, capturing your lips in a hasty kiss. It's a chaste kiss, experimental and you break away briefly. His eyes lock with yours, as if he was trying to search them to see if this was okay. "It's okay, Eds" you whisper, nodding gently. His eyes dart to your mouth and back up to your eyes.

"Do I get to keep you?" He whispers, his fingers softly stroking your cheek. You brush your nose against his.

"You get to keep me."