#nothing I come up w/ could do it justice

[eddiegettingshot]

i'm the prev anon n felt like i should clarify i was just joking of course (making fun of people talking like that about mr. tommy). like obviously we know he has other interests! and i can't imagine with what we did see of him in 7x04-7x05 that people can honestly believe has no friends. he just goes to fights and does muay thai and plays basketball and then sits home by himself the rest of the time? be ffr people

LMAOOO i got you dw. but like yeah there are people who literally think he'd just be lost and alone w/o buck lol

[d0rothydraws]

Luke and Kieran bet you to call Sylus a good boy. Without thinking, you accepted. Content: Light choking, Deep throating, Body worship, praise kink and general highly sexual themes

w/c: 3.8k

ao3: Here

part 2: Here

a/n: This is my first actual Sylus fic I hope I did him justice. The idea of calling him a good boy popped into my head and I ran with it. loosely based off of the oasis card. i could do a part 2 to this if people want it. low key nervous about posting this i havent posted smut in 2 years

Luke and Kieran bet you to call Sylus a good boy. Without thinking, you accepted.

And now, you were at an auction, insisting you came along. Teasing you for being clingy, Sylus accepted your company and now the two of you were sitting at a large dinner table surrounded by very powerful and Important men. They were talking in a language you didn't understand but you didn't really care. Your mind wasn't on the auction or the weapons they were bartering. Your mind was on Sylus. The man beside you so close you could feel the brush of his thigh against yours under your dress.

You tried to be calm. Confident. And for the most part besides your heart that was beating out of your chest, were doing a good job. Even as you moved a hand under the table onto his thigh.

The reaction was minimal, yet the fact you got a reaction in the first place was a good sign. His hand that was holding a steak knife, cutting into his meal tightened. Pausing for a moment before continuing.

You trailed your hand over the inseam of his thigh, a gentle feather light touch. You felt him stiffen under your hand. You knew how sensitive he was. He leaned his lips to your ear, his voice a low rumble.

"Bored with the auction, sweetie? You're the one that asked to come along." His breath was hot against your ear and yet you didn't falter. Your hand resting on the muscle of his upper thigh.

"I can't understand what they're saying. Of course I'm bored." You muttered back quietly only for him to chuckle, sitting back straight in his chair.

You moved slow, your fingers trailing higher up on his thigh until you trailed a finger against the zipper. A hand moved to hold your wrist, firm as his fingers wrapped around your hand.

"Sweetie." He said, his voice having an edge to it. You could feel how your touches have effected him. The warmth under your hand half hard. You bit back a smirk. But before you could continue or respond, the men at the table stood. Large double doors opened as the men entered.

You tried to pull your hand away, getting ready to stand to follow. It was time for the auction to begin. And yet, his grip tightened. Finally you looked up at him as he stood, still holding your hand. Following his lead he walked you into the room. His silence was loud.

The room was filled with rows of chairs and at the front, a stage with cases and boxes. As you went to sit down, Sylus pulled you closer, landing on his lap instead. You gasped softly, looking up at him but his eyes were trained on the stage.

"Just sit still and behave, sweetie." He said into your ear his arms wrapping around your waist ignoring any looks.

You took in a deep breath, feeling him still half hard under you. The auction begun, bids flowed in as they showed off firearms more expensive than you could even comprehend. You bit you lip, getting an idea as your heart spiked.

It was a handgun. Nothing like you haven't seen a million times you were sure Sylus probably even had that exact one. Yet, you hummed, faking interest.

"That one. I want that one" You whispered, leaning your head back against his shoulder as your ass pushed more against his hips. You felt him take in a sharp breath.

"Really out of all of the ones that's the one that catches your eye?" He said with an amused tone, not knowing what game you were playing but he knew that there was one. "I have about 50 of that exact model you can pick from." He said, leaning his lips against your ear, his hands moving to your hips, holding you firmly.

"But I want it." You pouted, looking up at him. "One of my own." His lips twitched into a smirk, an eyebrow lifting.

"One million" he said, his voice cutting through the crowd. Silence settled for a moment before another man with a thick accent countered.

"Two million"

Sylus' eye twitched. All of this trouble for a small hand gun. It wasn't worth more than one, he would know. But he knew the man was just bidding against him to spite him.

"Ten million." Sylus said. A few murmurs erupted. The man who was countering gave a loud scoff. The bid was completed.

You leaned your lips up, brushing against his ear.

"Good boy."

A hand moved to cradle your neck, not choking but still form. You could feel his body stiffen under you. His cock twitching under you. Your body heated up, breath growing hotter at his reaction.

"You're playing a dangerous game, kitten." He purred in your ear, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. You should stop. You finished the bet. But the adrenaline was addicting.

"I'm just telling the truth." You replied back, his hand still firm on your neck, the other around your waist. "I'm not satisfied yet, though." You purred, your hand moving to curl at the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. He made a low sound. "Buy me another one. Be a good boy, and buy me another gun." You breathed into his ear, your voice was hot, needy. Greedy.

His hand on your neck tightened, his hips twitching against your ass as you felt the hardness under you build. Your eyes closed as you let out a heavy breath, blushing as your body began to tingle. You expected him to tell you to shut up. To mock you for calling him that. Not to be into it. Though he didn't outright say it, you could feel how he was slowly losing his handle on the situation.

Instead, he chucked. Soft lips pushed against your ear. "You're pushing it, sweetie." He growled softly, his nails biting the sides of your neck as his words sent a shiver down your spine. You knew you were playing with fire. But with his hand around your neck, people around you glancing to look at the man who just spent 10 million dollars on a simple handgun, you felt over confident.

"Oh sweetie," You retorted, refusing to give in so easily. You knew he liked a fight. "I'm not the one with a hardon right now from being called a good boy."

Your body was standing suddenly, your legs moving to the door before your mind caught up. Sylus' hand in yours as he practically dragged you out of the building. The ride back was quiet, yet the air was thick. You knew he was probably cursing his decision of bringing his bike and not a car, your chest pressed against his back, thighs against him as he drove as fast as the motor would let him.

You didn't have a chance to move off of the bike before his hands were pulling the helmet off of your head. His eyes dark as they looked into yours. His touch was exceptionally gently considering how you figured he'd be treating you right now. His fingers traced your jaw, guiding you off of the bike with his other hand. His hand wrapped around your hip, pulling you flush to his. Sylus' other hand taking your chin between his fingers. "You've been nothing but trouble tonight, kitten." He said, his tone unreadable as his thumb traced the bottom of your lip. You flicked out your tongue, bringing it into your mouth. His lips twitched into a smirk. "What's got you so riled up tonight?" He said with a chuckle, pressing the pad of his rough thumb against your tongue before pulling it back, smearing your saliva over your lip. "I had a bet. And I won." You said, a playful glimmer in your eye as you finally admitted what had been on your mind. "I had a bet with the boys that I wouldn't survive if I called you a good boy." You moved your hand to his cheek, trailing down the muscle of his neck. "And from what I've seen," Your voice dropped to a whisper. "You liked it."

"What a silly bet." He muttered as his hand on your hip pulled you closer. "What makes you think that I liked it?" He said raising and eyebrow. "Why tell you when I can show you." You whispered before moving to take his hand on your hip, thankful that he was following your lead for a change. Though it was always hard for him to deny you.

As you closed the door behind you, you looked up at Sylus, taking a slow breath. You could cut the tension with a knife. Yet, he didnt make a move. He knew this game, and he was willing to play it. At least, until he wasn't. As you stepped closer to him, a hand moved down the buttons on his shirt. "You know, you really are beautiful." You whispered, your words genuine.

"What, are you just going to praise me all night?" He said, a half laugh half scoff as he slid his fingers over your shoulder and under the sleeve of your dress. Your hand on his chest became more firm as you popped a couple of the buttons free. "Yes, actually." You said simply as his shirt opened to expose his chest. You seen his stomach contract as he took in a breath. "Now, lay down on the bed."

It seems you struck a nerve because he listened without protest. Shrugging off his shirt as it fell onto the ground, he laid on the bed. His eyes glued to you as you followed him, straddling his hips as your thighs rested on each side of his body.

You started with his neck. Your lips grazed the skin as you kissed him gently, trailing and peppering kisses down his jaw. "You're listening so well." You breathed against his cheek, his body tense as you rested your hands on his chest. "You really are a good boy." You giggled. He frowned, his eyebrows knotting. "Don't mock me." He grumbled, his breath hitching as your hand gently trailed over his chest. Your lips grazed his as you spoke. "I wouldn't dream of it." Your lips pressed against his in a slow, tender kiss. Your fingers circled his nipples. His breath hitched against the kiss as you added more pressure. You moved slowly. Your movements unrushed, tender. As if you were worshiping him. And in a way, you were. You wanted to overwhelm him with praise. With soft touches and kisses. He shivered softly as you pinched his nipples between your fingers. You broke the kiss, lips caressing the corner of his lips. "I could kiss you all night." You breathed before moving lower on his body. Your hips moved making him grunt as you adjusted. As your tongue trailed the canyon of his chest your hands moved against his sides. You felt his muscles, how they twitched under your hands. How his breath was heavy, his hips starting to become more active as he slowly became more needy. His hand moved to curl into your hair. His head leaning back as his eyes closed. A low sigh leaving his lips as he felt how your soft hands caressed his strong and admittedly tired body. As he felt your tongue flick against his nipple though, his hand tightened in your hair. A low groan that went straight between your thighs filled the room. Letting out a shaky breath in anticipation, you flicked your tongue a few more times. As the bud hardened, you wrapped your soft lips around it, your eyes looking up at Sylus through thick eyelashes only to find him looking back at you. His face was flushed, his eyes slightly glassed over. You had never seen him like this before.

You pinched his other nipple, twisting it between your fingers softly as you sucked the other one and then after a few moments you switched. His hips arched against your body, feeling his thick need tight against his pants from nothing more than a few kisses and touches. "I didn't know you were so needy." You whispered as you began to move lower. Your lips trailed down his stomach, feeling his abs flex under you as you reached his belt. "I like it." You purred, licking the wet patch through his pants earning a low groan from him. "Kitten if you keep teasing me I won't be able to stay still." He warned, his voice strained. The sound of his voice made you shiver, a soft hum of arousal leaving your lips as you looked up at him. Your tongue sticking out to lick the spot again, slowly.

"You can handle it." You said, smirking as you used the words he used against you so long again against him. You slowly sat back up on your heels as you looked at him. "Now, be good and undo your pants for me baby."

His large hands moved to his belt, his hips raising as the sound of metal echoed as he undid the belt, sliding it off and letting it fall off the bed. His hands trailed over the button of his pants. You watched with heat in your eyes as he circled it sensually before popping the button open. His thumbs hooked under his underwear and pants, pulling them down with one movement.

You licked your lips as you looked down at him. Pants around his thighs, his cock hard and dripping onto his stomach as his hands finished adjusting his pants. As he moved his hand to curl in your hair again you pulled back, smirking.

"You didn't ask to touch me first." You said in a playful tone as your finger trailed the thick vein on his thigh up to his cock. He twitched, taking a sharp breath.

"Can.. I touch you?" He asked, oh so obediently. It made your heart flutter.

"No." You said with a low purr as you moved back down between his thighs. Lips trailed up the thick muscle, licking that same vein that your hands trailed seconds before. As he was about to argue, a grunt filled the room as you licked up the bottom of his cock before taking the tip past your lips.

His hands clenched, nails digging into his hands as he struggled to obey your command. You looked up at him, slowly lowering your mouth lower, lower and lower. Your tongue pushed flat against the sensitive tip as you took him entirely into your throat. He groaned louder, his mouth opening slightly as he twitched, his hips shaking as he felt your throat tighten around him as you swallowed his cock.

"Fuck kitten." He moaned, his eyes never leaving you as his breath became labored. You moaned around him, feeling yourself struggle to breathe around him. He was so thick, so large that he reached the base of your throat. Your eyes rolled as you began to bob your head.

He couldn't stop himself from thrusting into your tight little throat. You said no touching, but never not to move. And now, you couldn't talk with your mouth occupied. So, he took full advantage of the situation.

You gasped around him as he met your lips, a wet sound filling the room as his hips thrusted against you. He reached deeper in your throat, swallowing around him he moaned, his head falling back. Giving in, his hand finally curled in your hair. Fingers wrapping tightly around you as he held you still. "I'm sorry, kitten. You're too good." He growled as he rutted into your mouth. A low moan fell out of your bruised mouth as you were silently grateful for the turn of events. As his thrusts became more uneven and his cock swelled more against your painfully tight throat you groaned as hot cum flowed against you. A few more thrusts before he slowly pulled out, a sheen of sweat on his body. His cock, still half hard laid against his stomach. You panted for breath, air painfully filling your lungs again. Gently he brought you up to his lips, kissing you slowly as his hands rested on your waist.

You pulled back giving him a pout. Your voice strained and raw. "That's not how it was supposed to go." You grumbled but blushing as his hands trailed down your waist and to cup your thighs.

"Mm but you would have done the same thing if you were in my position, sweetie." "No, I have more self restraint than you."

"I don't believe you." He whispered, a low chuckle. "Let's test it, shall we?"

[nxuvillette]

“WANT ME TO FILL YOU UP?”

BREEDING W/ GENSHIN MEN

synopsis: nothing sounds better than being filled with your boyfriend’s cum.

❥- including : arataki itto, neuvillette, kamisato ayato, wriothesley

❥- note : i honestly kind of liked these !! i hope you all enjoy + reblogs are appreciated :)

content warnings: nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, breeding kink, creampies, mentions of pregnancy (neuvillette , itto , ayato), praising, use of pet names (baby , my love , princess) soft sex (ayato), cockwarming (itto), heavy mentions of cum

♡ ARATAKI ITTO

itto always loved the idea of possibly knocking you up or simply just filling your pretty cunt with all of his cum. it was the hottest thing he could ever imagine. it didn’t help that his cock was so thick that it would almost split you in half whenever the two of you became intimate with each other. he just couldn’t help himself. you were so tight and warm it’s like he was begging to fill you up.

he couldn’t hold back his grunts while he rutted into your cunt. you had been both at it for almost an hour now, and with itto’s stamina, he didn’t show any signs of tiredness. sex with him was always intense and fast. he knew what to do to make your body crumble and shake with so much desire. 

you tugged on the white strands of hair that draped down his shoulders. you were so fucking close. itto could sense it, too. your walls were becoming increasingly tighter with every thrust and it was making it hard for him to resist you. you were so fucking pretty. you took his cock better than anybody else and seeing your cunt suck him in was the biggest turn on. “i-itto! ‘m close!” you cried, throwing your head back onto the pillow behind you. 

he chuckled, spreading your legs apart even further to enter deeper into you. “heh, wanna cum, baby? fuck.. i wanna fill you up so bad..” he nibbled on the shell of your ear. “want to carry my babies..? you’d be so pretty with my cum dripping out of you..” 

your ankles then locked around his torso, giving him those desperate eyes he loved so dearly. your pussy clamped around his cock, making him shudder a bit at the sensation. “y-yes! god, itto, yes! fill me with your cum!” you begged.

that was all he needed to hear. itto’s pace suddenly became almost animalistic as he fucked you through your orgasm. your cunt squelched and made some of the most lewd noises, which was like music to his ears. his balls slapped against your puffy clit, aching for that delicious release. it took several more thrusts, but he eventually reached his orgasm. thick, white cum filled your womb. itto swore to god you milked him dry with how much he came. 

he stayed in that position for a moment, making sure that none of his seed leaked out of you. “wanna go again..? i wanna make sure you’re pregnant..” he smirked, nodding his head at you.

♡ NEUVILLETTE

he wasn’t sure what it was about fucking his cum into you that was so hot.

neuvillette had assumed it was probably a dominance thing. the thrill of also possibly getting you pregnant with his child made him harder than a rock. he knew if that day ever did come, you would look absolutely gorgeous with a rounded belly and swollen feet. 

it had been a busy afternoon inside the palais mermonia. countless documents had been handed over to the chief justice himself, so his hands had been full the entire day. he was exhausted, to say the least, so when he saw your pretty face walking into his office he couldn’t help but smile. you were such a relief to his difficult day, and you decided to help him out with all of those stressors he had all day.

your body was sprawled out on the desk neuvillette did his work on. his papers had been pushed to the side so none of them were ruined by the activities you two were indulging in. his thick cock bullied your walls, making your vision hazy from how he pressed against your g-spot. you could tell your lover was in need of this. he was rough and he had this determination swimming in his eyes while he fucked you mercilessly. 

“n-neuvillette! oh! right there!” you sobbed, clenching onto his broad shoulders.

you were such a fucking sight. neuvillette couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. he thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world at that very moment. “keep saying it, my love, keep calling for me..” he began to play with the sensitive bud between your legs. “want me to fill you up..? make you a mommy to my children..?”

the idea flowed into your head and although it was hot, it also left this swell in your chest. he wanted you to bear his children and be his forever. that’s all you ever wanted. “yes.. please, neuvillette..!” you whined.

he smiled before grabbing your legs and pressing them against the desk. the tired wood began to creak at the constant movement of your bodies, but neuvillette didn’t give a single concern. the angle was deep, so deep that you swore he was fucking your cervix with how fast his thrusts were. your cries echoed across the walls loud enough that surely someone outside heard, but no one would ever dare to interrupt the chief justice and his lover.

neuvillette’s hips stuttered one last time and his orgasm hit him like a wave. his cum spurted into your walls, blanketing them with white. there was so much that he swore some of it leaked onto the floor. 

you could hardly move, but judging by neuvillette’s expression, he looked like he had another round left in him.

♡ KAMISATO AYATO

being in a relationship with ayato of all people meant that there were constantly many eyes set on you. you were with someone that had such a high status in inazuma. it was not much of a surprise when you would see people staring at you in public, or giving you respectful bows.

ayato fell in love with you for many reasons. he adored you so much that he wanted to take that next step and start a family with you. he wanted your love to be permanent in his life. 

he had fantasized about it for quite a while. the image of you pregnant with his child and showing off your belly to everyone on inazuma. he wanted nothing more than that, so after a long day of taking on commissions for the clan, he decided to unwind with you in bed that evening. all he could think about all day was coming home to your sweet smiling face. 

your legs were thrown over his shoulders. ayato’s fingers were laced with yours while he pumped his cock into your needy hole. you were so beautiful at that moment. your glossy lips that were parted open with sweet moans slipping through them, and those pretty eyes that kept crossing every moment he reached your g-spot. he truly was blessed to have such a gorgeous wife.

“you’re so beautiful, princess, look at you..” he whispered, lovingly. his free hand went to trace along your figure, drinking in the sight of your sweaty body. “you’d look even more beautiful with my baby in you.. yeah? a nice heir for me?”

you shuddered at the thought of that. you knew for a while that ayato wanted someone to take over the clan someday when he wouldn’t be able to hold the reigns anymore. it sounded so pleasant. his cum being inside you and knocking you up turned you on so much. “yes.. ayato! let’s have a b-baby!” you whined, nodding eagerly at his request. 

he couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter at your words. he was going to make sure you had the best pregnancy ever. ayato then began to speed up his pace. your cunt was squeezing his cock so perfectly he was losing himself within you. how could you be so flawless? 

he groaned loudly as he let go inside of you. a warmth spread across your tummy as his cum filled your womb. it felt so amazing. you honestly craved it more than you thought you would. 

ayato smiled to himself. he knew he made the right choice that day when he first met you.

♡ WRIOTHESLEY

wriothesley was always open to trying new things with you, with your consent of course. some things were tried and failed, but the one thing that always remained was his breeding kink. he enjoyed seeing your pretty cunt leak with white cum after he was done with you. 

you decided to make a surprise visit to the fortress of meropide. it wasn’t unusual for you to pop in and speak with your boyfriend for a little while when he had the time, but your visit lasted a little longer than you had anticipated. 

you were sitting on wriothesley’s lap. his dick was drilling into you at such a rough pace you had to hold onto him to make sure you didn’t fall. his hands were both set on your waist where he bounced you on his thick cock. his icy blue eyes were watching your every facial expression. he loved seeing you like that. all fucked out and drooling over the fact that he was making you feel like you were on the moon.

he groped the globe of your ass tightly. you could hardly keep your moans contained from how great the pleasure was. “wriothesley! ah! i’m so close..!” your nails dug into his shoulder blades. 

he started to nibble at your neck, leaving a few marks on your skin. “yeah..? fuck, me too, baby.” he pressed his forehead against yours, making eye contact with you. “want me to cum inside you..? fill you nice and good..?” 

you whimpered at the mere thought of that. you honestly loved his breeding kink more than he did. “yes.. fuck, wrio, i need you..!” you grind your hips into him to show how desperate you were for him.

wriothesley then took your hips, holding them in place while he slammed upwards into you. the wind was practically knocked out of your lungs at how aggressive his thrusts became. he was hitting every delicious spot inside of you that made your mind become instantly foggy. your head fell onto his shoulder. you couldn’t help but moan into his ear about how badly you wanted him to knock you up. how he’d make such a great daddy to your baby.

without warning, wriothesley came. his cum leaked into your pussy, making a mess on his cock from the mix of your and his cum. he could care less, though. 

“you’re gonna make a nice momma.. i just know it, princess.” he cooed, kissing your face.

© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Creepy Bunny Hybrid

After a criminal conviction, the claimed hybrid shelter responsible for sourcing most of the beloved species of hybrid is set to shut down

It’s employees pleading with the public to take in their hybrids who’d be otherwise left on the street

Enough for your parents, who you’ve come to live with, to worry

While they were undecided about the morality of owning hybrids

Humanoids with some animal features

They were determined to be helpful 

whether they truly felt such justice or enjoyed the good samaritan role they’d take in a low-maintenance hybrid

A White rabbit with crimson eyes 

In your opinion one of the more beloved species that would’ve found a home somehow but you couldn’t complain

“Welcome Hori! We hope you can find a home with us!”

“Yeah make yourself at home. Don’t mind our kids they’ll be happy to explain anything you need.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Come come I have to show you all the cool things I have!”

Your family takes to him like metals to magnets 

Hovering near him and waiting on him like he’s the greatest thing since sliced bread

But he’s just so incredibly…quiet

Not just because he doesn’t speak unless spoken to 

But because he just doesn’t move

You’ve peaked at him sitting in the living room on a chair with no book, no TV on, windows closed, no music playing

What kind of bunny sits in the dark and does nothing

His large red eyes are huge, his ears incredibly long and upright

Skin  so pale, he could pass as the undead

Hori won’t even eat like other bunny hybrids

When your parents first gushed over his photo too many evenings were spent looking up what a bunny hybrid would need

Vegetables, fruits, bunny-hybrid pellets were what they filled the cabinets and fridge with

But he ate none of that 

Barely nibbling when your brother excitedly presented the spread

“This looks…good.”

Barely a quarter of the plate was gone

Before he claimed he was stuffed

The second your family slipped up though and handed him a plate full of steak 

he left nothing on the plate

“I thought bunnies weren’t omnivores?”

“...Maybe the original animal doesn’t but I am a hybrid. Things are…different.”

“Yeah (Y/n), things are different! Stop bullying Hori!”

It oddly feels like Hori is not all he seems 

Constantly seeking out hotdogs over the fruit you offer

Or spending unusual amounts of time staring at the passing neighbors

Or coming home at unspeakably late hours

But every time you tried to bring this up your family would scorn you

Writing off your observations as you being nitpicky

Or even jealous of the newest member of the family

“Just know (Y/n) you still hold a special place in our hearts.”

“Yeah no need to whine, we won’t forget you.”

“Just don’t take it out on Hori he’s been through so much.”

So you settle to avoid him

Just let him be in his parts of the house and you in yours 

But that doesn’t seem to work with his edition

“(Y/n)...will you accompany me on the grocery run?”

“I thought my older sib was taking you?”

“Originally…but I’d like for you to take me!”

“Uh…”

“Come on (Y/n)! Take this time to bond with Hori! Maybe you’ll find something’s in common between you two.”

It’s annoying that he insists on doing things with you

But it’s just some things

And of course, because he’s so creepily quiet it almost feels like you’re by yourself

It just gets worse

“I want to sleep with you, (Y/n).”

It was way past midnight and Hori was above you 

Caging you between his arms as he practically laid above you 

There was blood around his mouth and if you had the space you’d check over you body for a wound

“W-wh-what?!”

“Hori? (Y/n)? Please?!”

“T-t-that’s not even a real sentence! Please get off me!”

Once he does reluctantly give you space

You flick on a lamp or use your phone’s light to light the room

Hori’s hair is much longer, flowing past his tail 

Which was no longer a small puff ball now bloomed into something larger

His ears were incredibly long and twitching as though it was filled with joints of its own

His teeth seemed like they had no end, just rows and rows of spiny teeth all coated with the gunk and gooey mess of a carnivore’s meal

“All that blood?!”

He licks an abnormally long tongue around his mouth

“The left-of-overs from dinner.”

“Dinner was hours ago!”

“Not your dinner my dinner.”

The implication made your stomach twist

“Uh was it good?”

“Very. Now, sleep with you?”

You hoped he’d forget but if only to get some semblance of control and maybe be able to fall back asleep 

You relent

“Fine, but I’m not going to share my blanket…you’re a lot bigger than before.”

“It's okay those covers are not the heat I am after.”

You decided not to comment on it, wrapping yourself in your comforter

Letting Hori’s much larger limbs wrap around you tightly

This creepy bunny continued to surprise you

You could only hope that you’d figure him out soon 

Or your family might be the one to pay the price

[sturnsdoll]

𝘏𝘖𝘛𝘌𝘓 -`♡´- - C.S

inspired by: this pairing: chris x ("bestfriend"!) reader summary: your bestfriend is bored at night so he comes to your hotel room. what activities will he think of to keep himself entertained?? warnings: smut w slight background, dirty talk, lots of praise, friends to lovers, dom!chris x sub!reader, fingering, swearing, cocky chris?, word count: 2700 authors note: as soon as i saw the post asking for someone to make something like this i knew i had to turn tf up. hope i did the request justice 😛 "pink" = reader speaking "orange" = chris speaking

「 ✦Hotel by montell fish ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10 ᯤ✦ 」

it had been nothing short of a long day. you and the triplets had been out all day taking a road trip. you were just excited to get to the hotel with your friends and sleep. you, matt and nick were all exhausted but chris, your bestfriend, was still bursting with energy.

you and the triplets entered the hotel and let nick take care of obtaining the keys and room numbers. the plan was that you would have your own room and nick, matt and chris would share a two bed room for the night.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

matt was out no less than five minutes after all of you found your rooms and nick was practically non-verbal on his phone. chris was on the edge of the bed by nicks feet yappin' away about his day. no matter how obvious it was that nick wanted his space, chris couldn't bring himself to just be quiet.

"i just feel like-" "chris oh my god" nick interupted. this caused chris to go quiet with a look that said 'what?' on his face. oblivious. "i need you to shush motherfucker go to sleep or go bug your little girlfriend" nick complained as he rolled over.

chris glared at him for referring you his girlfriend. then after him and nick exchanged a few choice words (mainly consisting of nick telling him to shut the fuck up) chris chose to go bother you instead.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

music played at a comfortable volume in your hotel room. you set down your toothbrush and turned the tap off. about to start on your skincare, you were interupted by a knock on the door. approaching the door you were expecting it to be cleaners or something, but upon the door opening you found chris.

"hey" he hardly greeted as he let himself in past you to sit on your bed. you sighed as you closed the door and looked at him with a look that asked what he was doing bugging you at this hour. "nick kicked me out" chris half jokes as his eyes scan you quickly. he caught notice of the way the cold exposed your nipples through your tank top. his eyes went back to your eyes before you could notice him looking.

as comfortable as you were with chris, recently there had just been these moments where you were sure you were both flirting with eachother or that there was some kind of tension. you had shrugged it all off though because although your feelings for chris were more than just platonic, you knew there was no way he felt the same. however something about being alone with him made you nervous.

"so you came to annoy me instead? great" your voice was sarcastic but in a playful manner. you headed for the bathroom to finish your nightly routine. "shut up you love me" chris retorts, following you to the bathroom.

you sat up on the counter criss crossed and begun pulling serums, washcloths and cleansers from your bag. chris enjoyed watching you do everyday things like this. he came behind you, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder, watching you in the mirror. his palms pressing into the counter. feeling his warm body so close to yours made you feel safe, comforted (also a little hot inside.)

you were both silent as your music filled the room. while you nurtured your face his eyes were glued to you, admiring you the entire time.

once you finished you gave chris a smile in the mirror "you know your gonna have to go back with nick and matt really soon chris i'm tired" you tried to turn around but he wrapped his arms around you from behind. embracing the hug as much as you could from this position, you leaned your head back and placed your arms on his. "but i'm bored" he complained. there was something almost mischevious in his eyes that you couldn't quite place. "but i'm tired" you said, mocking him.

his voice comes out quieter and lower next to your ear "oh i'm sure i could wake you up" there's a grin or maybe even a smirk on his face. you were sure he didn't mean anything sexual but still your face heats up and your sure that due to your bodies touching, he can feel the way your heartbeat begins racing.

you look at him with a shy smile although not knowing what to say. the song changed and the familiar start of hotel by montell fish begins to fill the hotel room.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙞 𝙢𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙡 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢, 𝙞 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙗𝙖𝙙 𝙣𝙚𝙬𝙨" ⊹ ࣪ ˖

an unspeakable tension grows and maybe it's your imagination but you swear a slight smirk spreads on his face. you don't realize it but it's been a minute now and you've said nothing back to him, only staring blankly back at him in the mirror.

"hm?" his voice snaps you out of your trance and you realized you've been silently staring at him for an uncomfortable amount of time. fuck. "i dunno i'm pretty tired" you panic at the way your voice comes out a little breathy. his voice drops slightly "you're tired hm?" his arms squeeze a little tighter around you "that why your hearts practically beating out of your chest?" his words mixed with his breath fanning your ear make you dizzy. you can't deny the mix of arousal and nervousness you're feeling. he's your bestfriend afterall, he knows you well enough to know exactly what's going through your mind right now.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪" ⊹ ࣪ ˖

so you decide to embrace those feelings. you pull his arms off of you and turn your body around so there's no choice but for your legs to dangle off the counter on either side of his waist. he's still not sure if your feeling how he is so to be safe, his hands rest on the counter next to the outsides of your thighs rather than touching you.

you quickly glance down his body then back up to his eyes. "that why you're hard?" you mock with a mischevious grin. for a split second he looks taken aback but then before you can tease him any further he grabs your thighs, dragging you closer to him. your thighs instinctively squeeze his waist. you gasp when his clothed erection pokes at your thin sleep shorts.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚"⊹ ࣪ ˖

there's a moment of silence as he searches your eyes for any sign of hesitation. instead he only finds lust and need. without skipping another beat, his hand comes to the back of your head, pulling you into a passionate makeout.

your arms wrap around his neck, trying to pull him impossibly closer. you wanted him everywhere, on you, under you, in you.

his other hand gently rubs your thigh while his lips break off from yours. he takes in your already disheveled state. lips puffy, eyes glossed over with need. "so pretty" he comments right before attacking your neck with kisses filled with teeth, tongue and sucking. a gentle whine escapes you as he lifts you off the counter. and even when he lays you on the bed his lips don't leave your neck.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙞 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣' 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙡 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢. 𝙞 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙤 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪"⊹ ࣪ ˖

his weight presses onto you but not suffocatingly. he subconciously ruts his hips into yours. "mm" you squirm your hips up for more but he pushes your hips back to the bed with his own. your cunt is aching to be touched in any way shape or form, so long as it's him. "chris please" your voice comes out desperate.

he completely ignored your plea but his lips do come off your neck so he can lock eyes with you. his hand slowly brushes down your side "god i bet you're soaked already" he seems as if he's speaking to himself. his fingertips brush across your hip bone now. his voice alone makes you try and close your legs to relieve some tension. with his body between them though, it's useless.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪. 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚?"⊹ ࣪ ˖

you look at him with doe eyes, wanting nothing more than his touch right now. "chris-" you begin when suddenly he pulls the band of your panties back before letting is snap against your skin "so desperate" he teases before his hand finally slips beneath the thin material. two fingers slide up and down your soaked cunt to collect your wetness on his fingers. then his middle finger makes quick work of circling your clit.

"who made you this wet, baby?" he asks with cockiness to his tone. your head goes to the side and your eyes find anywhere to look but him. you can't believe your bestfriend is talking dirty to you, while he's on you. as you let out a whiny "you" in response. he's way too entertained with how whiny and submissive you already are for him to be thinking about how shocking the situation is for you both. "mhm." he responds. his middle finger leaves your clit only to enter you along with his ring finger. a sigh of relief leaves your lips. "now look at me" his free hand grips your jaw, forcing you to face him. your eyes still avoid his though.

his fingers begin to curl repetitevly inside of you, forcing a moan from your lips. he feels his pants tighten at your reaction. "look at me or i'll stop." his tone is gentle but still commanding. it leaves you with no choice but to meet his gaze. you take notice of how much darker the lust has turned his blue eyes.

"listen so well" he praises before his lips meet yours. hearing him talk to you like this makes every ounce of your body heat up. you're already feeling close.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙡 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙥𝙪𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙣, 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙤𝙝𝙝, 𝙞, 𝙞 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪" ⊹ ࣪ ˖

he pushes his wrist forward and somehow, his fingers reach even deeper and his palm rubs your needy clit. your nails dig into the back of his neck "s-so good" you mutter as your eyes stare hooded and glossy up at your best (not-so) friend.

the cockiness is seeping off of him "yea? you like my fingers?" his movements speed up as he speaks. his voice mixed with his skilled hands nearly send you over the edge. he can feel the way you clench, threatning to finish any minute. for that very reason he rips your pleasure away.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙚 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡, 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙞 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛, 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚. 𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙡 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡. 𝙤𝙤𝙝, 𝙮𝙤𝙪"⊹ ࣪ ˖

you open your mouth to protest but he speaks before you can. "m' gonna make you feel good again, don't worry" he assures as he leaves you for a second to remove his clothes. you take this as your cue and remove everything besides your bra and panties.

chris resumes his place on the perfectly white hotel sheets. his hand is gently stroking his cock as he moves between your legs. your eyes lock with it and your desperation reaches an all time high. he's not small or thin by any means.

he smirks at the way your lips are parted, eyes watching, body waiting. he uses his free hand to push your legs open further. you knew letting your bestfriend fuck you was about to change everything for the both of you, but the way your whole body ached for him drowned out all the worries you had.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄 𝙢𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙡 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢 𝙄 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙗𝙖𝙙 𝙣𝙚𝙬𝙨. 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙄 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪..." ⊹ ࣪ ˖

"you want your bestfriends cock sweetheart?" he asks staring down at you. "yes chris" your words come out impatiently. "then what do you say? hm?" you frustratedly watch the grin on his face as he taps his tip against your puffy clit just to tease you.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚"⊹ ࣪ ˖

you sigh "please." he can tell your frustrated. "you can do better than that" he states as he drags his tip up and down your pussy, juices coating his tip now. your hips push toward him but he only pulls back. "please fuck me chris. i need you"

"good girl." he praises, his length unexpectedly shoving into you. "god so tight" he groans the praise as he pulls back, then pounding into you again. "chris!" you shout as your hands go for the sheets but chris grasps them instead. his fingers interlock with yours, pinning your arms and hands down next to your head.

he picks up a harsh pace. uncontrollable whines and moans begin spilling from your lips. as his head drops next to yours, filthy things come out of his mouth into your ear.

you're just speechless, mouth open as your eyes roll back.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙞 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣' 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙡 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢 𝙄 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙤 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪"⊹ ࣪ ˖

he kisses your neck so gently, completely contradicting the roughness of how he's fucking you. "so pretty underneath me" he mumbles before his lips attatch to your neck again. you clench around him at the praise, making him groan and thrust his hips faster to chase his release as well as help you reach yours.

you whine out his name as you shut your eyes, his cock hitting the right spot everytime he thrusts his hips. one of his hands moves away from yours to slip between your bodies. his middle finger wastes no time on finding and stimulating your clit. your hips buck into his hand but with the way he's fucking you it makes no difference.

"need t-to- uh fuck" your words are cut off by a needy moan. he pulls away from your neck to look at you "what's wrong hm?" he asks with faux sympathy right before a particulary deep slam of his hips into yours, wanting to pull more of those pretty noises out of you.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙞 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙤 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪"⊹ ࣪ ˖

giving up on speaking you throw your head back, your free hand gripping his shoulder as you uncontrollably clenched around him, desperate noises coming from your lips one after the other.

"you need to cum?" he's out of breath and his pace begins to falter. you nod frantically. "go on then, cum with me" he says through his teeth as his hips twitch. one more thrust of his hips and his cum fills you up.

his hips still but he continues rubbing quick circles on your clit "come on, be a good girl and cum for me" his words are what send you over the edge. your hips lift of the bed, your mouth opens but nothing comes out. "fuck." chris mutters at the sight of you mixed with feeling of you clenching around his cock, milking him dry.

he pulls out but massages your clit a little longer, letting you work through your high before collapsing on the bed next to you. you roll on your side and he does the same, spooning you. the both of you leave nothing to be heard but deep breaths as you both smile at the experience that just occured.

⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙄 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪"⊹ ࣪ ˖

after chris finally got himself up to clean the both of yours mess you both got dressed and took seats on the bed facing one another. there was an almost awkward silence, not surprising considering you just let your bestfriend fuck the shit out of you.

you speak first "i don't just wanna fuck" you state with a worried expression. he stares at you for a moment and you think he's about to tell you he doesn't want any kind of relationship. "is that what you want?" you were quiter and much more sheepish now. you looked like you wanted to retract into your own skin and never come out. he quickly smiled. he playfully slaps his no-longer bestfriends shoulder. "no dumbass i want you" he says before scooching closer, grabbing your hips to pull you into his lap. then placing a delicate kiss on your lips.

you smile down widely at him "great. now can we fucking sleep?" you ask exhaustedly. "yup" he responds, standing up while holding you before tossing you on the bed and climbing in next to you. ⊹ ࣪ ˖"𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡, 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚, 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣' 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚?"⊹ ࣪ ˖

(sorry for the stupid ending 🙏)

[umemiyan]

can i request pussydrunk virgin!yuji 🫣 ik that your first time w him is so soft

𝙃𝙔𝙋𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙄𝙕𝙀𝘿.

𝗬𝗨𝗨𝗝𝗜 𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗗𝗢𝗥𝗜 𝗫 𝗔𝗙𝗔𝗕!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ 18+ only, mdni / established relationship / virgin!yuuji / no pronouns for reader / unprotected piv sex / creampie, a smidge of yuuji with a praise kink / 1.3k words

absolutely!!! tysm for sending this in. i've been slowly chipping away at it over the last few days lol, and i hope i managed to do yuuji a little bit of justice in my first piece for him! gotta start somewhere, am i right?

It starts with a relatively chaste kiss on the couch in the middle of a movie (Human Earthworm 2, to be exact), but it isn’t long before a small peck snowballs into hungry, open-mouthed kisses that leave the two of you gasping for air in between. Yuuji’s cheeks match the color of his hair and he’s already straining in his pants, dripping with youthful desperation. He’s thought about this moment an alarming number of times while lying alone in bed at night, anticipating the day it might truly happen. He would dream up an explicit scenario and stroke himself to sleep, desire overriding the shame of imagining your heat taking every last inch of him for the first time, and now, it seems like it may finally be a possibility.

 Yuuji usually does his best to be a gentleman, but the lustful way your tongue occupies his mouth has him moaning and gripping at your thigh for dear life, tightly pressing against you and wishing he could practically crawl into your skin just to feel you closer. He doesn’t want to be sitting beside you anymore—he wants to be on top of you, underneath you, inside you more than he can properly articulate.

You can’t help but notice the way he feverishly squirms, and you’re beginning to feel quite impatient yourself. “Are you okay with this, Yuuji?” you ask, not wanting to push him in a direction that he isn’t prepared to go in.

He nods eagerly, itching to reattach himself to your lips. “Yeah… yeah, ‘m definitely okay with this,” Yuuji responds hastily, breathlessly.

You pet at his pastel locks and look him in the eye, your voice soft yet serious. “Do you wanna go into my bedroom?”

His golden eyes widen as he gulps, but then he’s silently nodding and letting you lead him to the bed.

Your lips are on his as soon as he sits on the mattress, and you do him the favor of removing your shirt so that he can ogle your breasts as though they’re the most interesting things he’s ever seen (because they are). You don’t have to ask twice for him to peel his own shirt off because he’s practically jumping for joy at the opportunity to do so, longing to feel your chest press against his with nothing in between.

You admire the toned structure of his body, fingertips dipping along his abs while a strong hand of his own comes up to palm at your breast. He marvels at the feeling, a boyish glee pulsing through his veins as he fondles you uninhibited. It’s so sincere that you simply can’t take issue with it; in fact, it only serves to arouse you that much more.

“You feel amazing,” Yuuji says as his hands continue to roam your body, soaking in the texture of your skin through his fingertips. He even dares to tweak a nipple, oh so eager to draw every possible reaction from your body despite his lack of experience.

You chuckle at the awe in his voice and body language. “I know what would feel even more amazing.”

It isn’t long before you have him stripped bare with his pretty head on the pillow, gazing up at you as you promptly straddle his waist. You’re like an ethereal being to him, and his hands instinctively move to rest upon your hips, ever eager to latch onto the mesmerizing warmth of your bare skin. What’s even more mesmerizing is the warmth of your cunt as it shifts closer to his throbbing length, hovering over it with the promise of complete and utter euphoria.

You lean forward to kiss him once more before asking, “Are you ready?”

Yuuji nods and grips your hips a little tighter, his heart racing in his chest as you breathe against him. “Yeah.”

Reaching a hand down between your bodies, you gently take hold of his cock and slide the tip of it between your folds, earning a shiver from him as it’s coated with slick and settling just at your entrance. His eyes never leave yours throughout, but they’re already starting to go glassy from the sensation of your dripping arousal against him.

Without further ado, you finally let him breach you, sinking down onto his girth little by little until you’re finally seated and being stretched completely from the inside. Yuuji lets out a moan at the feeling of you surrounding him so tightly, the pleasure unlike anything he’s ever felt before. He needs more.

“Fuuuuck,” he curses breathlessly, already in a borderline hypnotized state.

You rise up and start to bounce your hips after a moment of adjustment, breath hitching as he fills you over and over and looks at you with a gratefulness that sears itself into your memory. You place a hand on his chest and feel his thudding heart within while his cock prods deeper into you than you thought possible.

“Fuck, Yuuji,” you say with a furrowed brow, sweat already working its way to the surface of your skin as you increase the pace of your hips. Meanwhile, Yuuji already looks properly fucked out, eyelids heavy and jaw slacked with bliss. If you focus on anything other than the feeling of him stretching you out, you’d notice that his fingers are practically bruising the skin on your hips.

His eyes move down from your face to watch your tits bounce with every motion, and this stokes the fire in his belly to burn hotter than he could ever imagine. Almost mindlessly, Yuuji’s hips suddenly begin to work up against yours in a desperate rhythm, chasing after something that he can hardly even comprehend at this point. His mind feels hazy—empty, even, save for the all-consuming desire to be as deep in you as possible, filling you completely and tasting everything that you have to offer.

The volume of both your moans rises each time your bodies meet, and he feels so incredible with every stroke that you’re compelled to let him know. “Feels s’good, Yuuji. You’re so good.”

He gives a loud groan at that, eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head as your praise takes hold of him. Your efforts are hardly required anymore, hips no longer needing to drop down onto his as he takes the notion to slam up into you instead, drunk determination in his beautiful eyes and a trickle of drool shamelessly sliding from the corner of his mouth.

“Gonna cum,” he warns, no longer able to hold himself back but completely incapable of stopping either.

“Go ahead,” you tell him without a second thought, “cum for me.”

“I-inside?” he asks in his final moments of self-control.

You circle a finger around your clit and clench around him with a hasty nod. “Mhm. Inside.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. Yuuji holds his breath as his cock starts pulsing inside you, then he lets out a series of appreciative moans, head spinning with the intensity of his orgasm. You continue furiously stroking your clit, using your last bit of strength to roll your hips as he fills you up and starts to go limp, until you’re finally overcome with the blinding pleasure of your own high. It wracks you and takes you down to rest on his chest as he heaves for air and your body trembles against him.

Yuuji’s hands move to hold the small of your back, and you peer up at his dopey face with an interesting look of your own.

“I think that was the greatest moment of my entire life,” he manages to say, and you break out into a small fit of laughter.

“Well, I’m glad enjoyed yourself.” You bring a hand up to wipe away the drool and sweat from his face.

“Did you?” He asks, genuinely curious with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“Oh yeah,” you reply, grinning with a flavor of mischief. “Absolutely.”

[velvetures]

Hello loves💕 I still can't get over your writing I'm obsessed!!

I would love to request Roommate König x fem reader. König hears you fucking some guy on the other side of the wall and he can tell you faked it so once the dude is gone he's got you over his shoulder and is walking you to his bedroom to fuck you right. I love the idea of her trying to get him to confess to her and trying anything after months or years of mutual pining, her last resort is to make him jealous.

Overheard

a/n: I'm so sorry for being so slow my love... I always have the worst self-confidence with nsfw reqs. I constantly write them, delete them, and start all over... (this is like... the 8th full-draft retry) So I hope you'll forgive me if this isn't up to standard. Also, I know this trope has been covered by some really talented writers and I hoped to do it justice, and not feel like a carbon copy of something better. (ps. This shit is too long... but I knew if I deleted anything, I'd delete the whole thing over again.)

tw's: 18+ ONLY, nameless hookup, alluded unprotected sex w/side character, unintentional orgasm denial, the reader is mentally not in the best place for sex (disconnected), voyeurism, jealously, fem-oral receiving, fem-fingering receiving, dirty talk, König being a bit of a loser, König omitting his lack of experience, aftercare.

His mom kept saying it was about time to settle down. That the biological clock, normally pushed on women, was ever-present and ticking against his favor. But his sweet, innocent, mother didn’t know the depth of his awkwardness. Not even the slightest idea that her well-mannered boy, turned praise-worthy Colonel was nothing but a bumbling fucking idiot when it came to speaking with women. In the field, sure. He could give orders, discuss tactics, and even bullshit with the best of the best… but if a woman was among those? Oh hell. It was like trying to talk to a brick wall with a randomly developed stuttering issue.

He didn’t understand where it came from either.

It wasn’t like his mother was one of the overbearing types that made dating impossible, and nor did he exactly have the worst time when he was younger with women being interested. It was just… after they showed interest, that became the struggle. Relaxing wasn’t possible. Not when he knew that a woman’s perception of him was far higher than that of any man. Believing that even the smallest of gestures and phrases could earn him an immediate dismissal, and his name or photo being sent in some group-chat to be berated after a first date. He didn’t blame any of the women though… he knew what he looked like. What he sounded like… and God, how miserable his personality was compared to what his career and position would lead others to assume.

A shred of truth could always be found in his mother’s warning though.

He’d gone years without any meaningful relationship where the softer, side of a woman could be found. He found bastardized ways of getting a taste, but he could only allocate so much money a month to porn sites and camgirls without feeling like a total sleaze. The Colonel felt much more confident mapping out a prospective warzone than the contours of a woman’s body, and fuck… it made him more than a little embarrassed to admit. Enough so, that when you mentioned that your rental agreement was coming to an end, and you were trying to find somewhere new to stay, he offered for you to just move in with him.

He owned. Which made the idea of ‘rent’ or you paying it almost unquestionably stupid. It made the deal a little sweeter -in his mind- for you to agree, and then he wouldn’t have to be quite so personally diligent on logging onto online portals to pay utilities. That is, if he could get you to move in. And while in his own mind and body, every synapse screamed that he was being unrealistic, you hadn’t caught on. He’d looked just as stoic and cold as ever when he propositioned that you just start moving over your things into his house. Save money… it’ll be easier for you; He’d said, hard eyes glancing over your face. You thought saying ‘yes’ was anxiety-inducing? König nearly passed out in his office after walking there on numb feet and weak knees.

In the week following, he brought you a small ring of keys, and you started moving your life into his, one cardboard box at a time. And every night after returning from his on-base duties, he would have to physically restrain himself from opening up the taped flaps and getting a peek at the unattended items sitting by the front door. At the time, he thought it was nothing more than unchecked curiosity and instinct to feel-out a new situation. Just simply wanting to learn more about you before you started sleeping over. Merely the soldier in him. But box, by box, that curiosity didn’t dampen down. Even when your items began making their way out of their containers and enmeshing with his around the house.

Tea cups in the kitchen cabinet next to his thicker, coffee mugs. Throw blankets rolled and stacked in the far corning of the couch he rarely sat on. A little rug you’d tossed down in the kitchen in front of the stove with a little floral print that he’d been utterly possessed to not get any stains on while cooking, or by taking off his boots before walking inside. And while never claiming to be a ‘minimalist’ man, he learned right away that his house was nothing short of a hotel when it came to personality.

You’d brought at least five full walls worth of decor. Little trinkets and cute things from all over the world you’d been sneaky enough to stuff into the pockets of your gear. And all of it, had initially been shoved into an empty linen closet he’d been perfect happy with you claiming as your own since it was ‘on your side of the house’. That was, until he found himself noticing that you’d put more than “storage” things away, and had silently refused to put them where they belonged.

On the damn walls.

“I don’t decorate well anyways..” It’d been his excuse… or at least something along those lines. Maybe a little bit more gruff. Guarded. Because even in his own home, he had the tendency of walking around like someone was going to sneak up behind him.

So one week, while he was away, you took the permission and ran with it. Buying the picture hanging kits, and everything else needed to begin covering the Colonel’s walls with your amassed collection of utterly unnecessary, but brain-scratching decorations, art, and collectable junk. Spending a good half hour walking around the halls and rooms with a little smile of accomplishment on your face seeing the colonel’s house feeling more like a home. Totally unaware that he’d been checking the security cameras dotted around, watching you scale a shitty stepladder, climb the kitchen cabinets, and struggle to lift the more heavy items. All the while, growing more and more intrigued with this new arrangement. Debating whether he liked it or not. Rapt attention making the instinctive suggestion that you’d make a good wife far less perverse than he should’ve felt it to be.

Missions took precedence though. And it kept both of you busy more than not. Fully living adjacent instead of in a more dependent role. But there were decidedly small decisions that needed to be made. Like who was in charge of buying groceries, and getting essentials that you both used. König ended up just leaving cash on the counter once a week so you could take care of his end for him. Saving the trouble of a second loaf of bread being bought, or doubling up on paper towels after a miscommunication lead to fifty rolls of the shit needing to be stored somewhere. You did the job more than credibly, and it got you out of the house too.

Which was good, because you rarely left.

Not unlike him, you preferred your time spent in calm situations. Either reading reports, answering emails, and other related tasks before just closing that tab on your laptop and opening up an new one to watch a show or scroll on your phone. You appeared to thrive in his house when you could curl up like some little bird in a nest and just rest. Developing almost permanently sleepy eyes when you came through the door, and a softer tone of voice that took some getting used to. König didn’t exactly understand it. Why your demeanor changed so much within the house, and how it got substantially much more noticeable when your schedules aligned for both of you to be there at the same time.

A solid seven months or more passed before he got his answer. And from your late-night scrolling nonetheless.

Some woman, blabbering on about her husband, and all of the ways that he effected her life once she moved in with him. And, honestly, König wasn’t listening all that much. Having just begun sitting on the other end of the couch with you, since it was where you spent your evenings after dinner. And, it’d become a little bit of a new experience. Just being halfway close to you. Interacting, but not. A safe way to enjoy your presence without any expectations. But that woman on your phone caught his attention when she made the joke about being tired all the time. Tired. Sleepy. All the fucking time. He had to stare down at the TV to keep his head from snapping in your direction.

Apparently it was chemical. Some little thing in the back of a woman’s mind that men didn’t have the complexity to experience the same way. That this woman -and you- were so mentally focused for such a long time, that when the right person was around you, and created a safe space, it acted like a the strongest sleeping pill in existence. Flooding you with dopamine and melatonin to the point that your pretty face got even sweeter with those deep, sleepy looks and constant yawns at all times of the day. Getting a glimpse of you tapping the screen twice, and then tapping at your keyboard to leave a comment only reinforced his inquisitiveness. From the moving boxes, to watching you on cameras while away… and now realizing that you acted so sweet and docile around the house because of him..? He didn’t know how to control himself, and still find a way to keep figuring you out.

Wanting more…

Needing a chance to find out if things could go further than just living in his house.

Dating wasn’t a walk in the park for you either. Call it a hazard of military work. Computers and filing paperwork was more your speed than the guns and blood that König was accustomed to, but it still limited the amount of men who were interested. Especially in the long-term.

It really came down to the uniform and lack of free time that could be allotted to the guys that you did have the fortune to meet. They wanted to take you on dates, and your superiors preferred you stay late to take minutes for a meeting. They always suggested you take a vacation, since it was clear just how tired you were on a daily basis. But vacations were practically a laughable dream you knew wouldn’t come to fruition until you finally were sent the retirement packet everyone in the service dreamed of. But.. on the rare occasion, you did have the energy to entertain a man for a night. Just. One. Night.

Thankfully König was out.

Such good timing considering you’d spent nearly a week, taking your sweet time to wring orgasms out of yourself just for the sheer frustration of getting them, and still not feeling satisfied. Instinctively missing the warmth of skin on skin and the dynamic of having someone else provide and take pleasure from you. Even getting on the app had felt more like a shopping trip than a chance to go on a date. Looking through photos and bios with nothing more on your mind than someone big enough, and pretty enough to make the ordeal worth it. The guy who answered back to your painfully blatant request for a good fuck, didn’t ask any questions either. Just asked politely asked if you wanted to go to him, or vice versa and gave you ample time to get yourself ready before the knock on the front door.

Your mental ruined any chance of having a good time though.

The poor guy sucking at your neck and grunting soft praises was nice… but you couldn’t get into it. Feeling tense. Going through the motions. Foreplay becoming an act of forced moans to reassure the guy genuinely trying to make you feel good, and unable to even make eye contact for a slightly guilty feeling that pervaded your thoughts. Hell, you even refused to have missionary, just to make sure that your facial expressions didn’t have to constantly match the fake whimpers and whines.

John… Joe… Jacob… whatever his name was, he was honestly a sweet guy. Giving your clit attention, no just shoving his cock in you without prep, and actively checking in without making it overbearing. On another day, you’d have really been trying harder to impress him. Give the impression that you were interested in him for more than the sex you couldn’t surrender to. Hope that he liked you enough to stick around. But deep down, you thought better of it. Withholding your feelings to ensure that when he left you alone for the night, that you wouldn’t hate yourself.

König, on the other hand, came home a bit earlier than expected. Walking in the door quietly to expect a silent house, and you sleeping in your bed or on the couch after waiting up for him. Only to be stunned with wet, skin slapping and familiar, pathetic, whimpers getting overrun by deep grunts and low, almost whispered sounds from a man.

God… you were getting fucked.

His whole chest tightened in embarrassment and his face felt hot. You’d never been quite this comfortable… at least to his knowledge. Plenty of nights he had overheard the faint sounds of you getting off alone… soft little moans and gentle hums of a vibrator filtering down the hallway to him. But he’d never heard anything quite that… loud. Even when you fucked yourself on a dildo -he’d always been too curious not to listen intently- the slick sounds of your cunt always made louder noise than your voice. As mortified as he was hearing it… part of him knew something was wrong. Like his whole body was stiff, realizing that you weren’t enjoying it. Faking it… for some unknown reason.

Why couldn’t you say something? Surely you could ask him to… to do something different right? To let you use a toy? Or… or touch your clit? Whatever it took to help you enjoy yourself. But those pinched, almost broken moans starting grating on him within seconds. Stalking towards your bedroom door quietly, and leaning against the wall. Eyes closed and his breath getting heavier with each imagined scene in his head that developed. Picturing him doing all the wrong things… Touching you… tasting you… and living out his own pleasure without the slightest idea that every sound out of your mouth was a fucking lie.

König’s jaw clenched. Resisting a sudden desire to bang on the door or make some other loud noise that would bring this all to an end. Even his fist clenched at his side flinched towards the bedroom door, as if he was insane enough to actually bust in.

What would he even do?

The question rang out a bit too harshly in his mind.

He didn’t have the first idea how to… do better. To make you feel good, or any woman really. Plenty of jealousy rose in his throat at the thought of that bastard fucking you, but he hadn’t even touched a pussy in years. And the last time he did it, he was, pathetically inexperienced. Using his huge fingers to try and prep his partner, but not hitting any of the right spots. Accidentally taking a clinical approach, and it left him feeling like a damn gynecologist instead of a good fuck.

He couldn’t please you, no matter how much he wanted to…

The sobering thought forced him to back away from your bedroom door. But pride alone forced him into the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass of scotch in his hand. The last -and unavoidable- line of defense before the front door. No doubt in his mind that if nothing else, he’d get a good look at the man you’d brought home for a disappointing night of sex. Wanting to at least humiliate the bastard for a few seconds. Because while he knew himself to not be an acceptable partner, the guy currently riding out his high in your bedroom wasn’t going to know it. And seeing him -in his daily fatigues- and his hood, would give any man a moment of pause.

You felt sticky. Hot. And more than a little achy in all the wrong ways as Jeff… Josh… whoever the fuck he was, removed himself form your bed and began pulling on his jeans. Watching cautiously as he excused himself into your bathroom -sweetly- offering you a wet washcloth and a too-shy smile for a man who’d just come all over your stomach.

You didn’t bother putting on pants to walk him out to the front door. Too disappointed and stuck in your own head to see König standing in the corner of the kitchen. His dark eyes glaring daggers at your… ‘guest’ who was much more observant, and stood stock still. Shirt in his hands, and forced to raise his gaze more than normal to get the best look at the terrifying man looming in the shadows. It took you far longer than it should’ve. To trace Jonah… Josiah’s… gaze, and recognize your roommate. And even longer to remember that you weren’t wearing pants.

“Hey man…”

You had to give what’s-his-name credit for being as casual as he sounded. Because in all honesty, you were just as taken aback. Shuffling to stand behind the guy just enough that your bare pussy and ass weren’t totally out for him to see.

“Evening…” König sounded… bored? Not his normal tone. “Heading out already?” The guy you were using as a shield, just nodded his head. Looking a bit apologetic, but still anxious.

“Yeah, man…” He pulled his head over his shirt, patting his pockets for the jingle of car keys before glancing back at you with an truly apologetic smile, and a clear unpreparedness for the situation. “I… uh…. thanks for… letting me come over…”

You can’t manage more than a nod. No smile, no reassuring touch to him… nothing. Just a silent acknowledgment and the subsequent scamper over to the couch to grab a blanket to cover yourself up.

Shit… König fucking waved bye…

He didn’t expect you to come out. Nor to get his first-ever look at your pussy. And god it’d taken a lot of restraint not to just stare at you and memorize what he could get get a look at. You just looked soft. So fucking small and soft… A slight sheen of sweat on your face and the roots of your hair damp from the erotic affair.

Too bad it was all an act.

“Thanks for letting him come, huh?” He can’t resist… the guy just hadn’t been cautious enough to not fuel the fire of jealously in him.

Seeing you wrap that blanket around you tighter, avoiding all eye contact, and even turning your side to him a bit… it makes him smile under his hood. An amused one. A sickeningly happy sort of feeling rising in his gut where you appear vulnerable under his gaze. You’re already much more expressive just talking to him than you’d sounded with that bastards cock inside you.

“Didn’t think you’d be back for a while…” Your valid excuse falls a bit flat, especially when those dark brown eyes scan your entire body. He lifts his tumbler of scotch under his hood, nodding before taking a long drink. Feeling a secondary burn that soothes the heat building everywhere else in him.

“I can see that…” He chuckles lowly. To him, it sounds unsure… and maybe tinged with anger, jealously. But on your face, he’s clear that you don’t recognize it. Far too embarrassed to see that there’s just as much uncertainty flooding him as well. “Could hear it too…”

He literally sees your shoulders sink. The wave of embarrassment. Part of him loves it. Knowing you’re experiencing some of the same things he is. That you to, know what it’s like to leave a bed feeling like things didn’t go right, and there’s a guilt that hardens like sediment in your gut. Yet the other half, resists pushing harder. Using this same, defensive, and chastising tone. To give you just a bit of respite, because, he’s not really mad… he’s just fuming with jealously.

“If I knew… I wouldn’t have…” You can’t manage much more. Both of you knowing damn well this wouldn’t have happened if you knew what his arrival was going to be. You always kept so good to his schedules… and not just because this was his house. But because you were so genuinely sweet around him.

“Been so loud?” He suggests, downing the last gulp of his scotch and pushing away from the counter. “Speaking of that…” His gaze lingers on your throat… those faked moans echoing in his mind.

“I didn’t know it was common practice for women to walk their fucktoys to the door… especially when he doesn’t make you come.”

If your stomach was twisting before, there wasn’t a doubt now. And god… you couldn’t tell if it was that he was home, or his voice, or just the edged-feeling of your aching pussy; but König was making you squirm. More than he’d ever done before… and you’d gotten yourself off to the thought of him plenty of times before when no other fantasy had done the trick.

“I finished.” You defend, tightening the blanket around your waist and tucking your bare feet under the excess material pooling on the floor.

König’s eyes blacken, and he laughs lowly. It’s the closest you’ve seen to his behavior when he’s interrogating someone. His power of knowing all the right answers and just dangling the freedom to lie right in front of your face. Maddening, to say the least. And enough to make your thighs flex together.

“I’d like to believe you…” he begins, making leisurely steps closer. “Yet, I’ve spent more nights than I care to admit hearing you come… and what I just hear… is nothing close to the real thing.”

“It’s different with—when it’s not just me.” You gape at him, trying to find anger at the audacity.

Searching for something other than a feeling of arousal knowing that despite your muffled cries into pillows, he’d still heard you at night. Still listened, and if nothing else, knew what your true pleasure sounded like to call you on bullshit. He shrugs, massive hands resting on his hips. Watching them sway a little as he keeps getting closer. Testing the boundary lines you no doubt had. Pushing and prodding at weak spots, and wondering if he can set foot on the living room rug you stood at the center of.

“Different, huh?” The fake acceptance doesn’t last long. “So if I asked for proof… you’d have it?”

“Proof?” You choke out. “What kind of proof could I even give you?” There are plenty running around in your head, all of them raunchier than the previous. But you’re almost desperate to hear him say it.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got the wettest fucking cunt I’ve ever heard,” He growls softly. “You never finish yourself off without making the slickest goddamn noises. Can hear it from down the hallway like it’s playing off my phone.” He adds, voice getting gritty, eyes lowering towards your hips and back up.

“Show me, that is… if he really did make you come.”

Air in your lungs evaporates. God it’s criminal how fucking lewd anything could sound coming from his mouth. And your dry pussy is pathetically getting wetter by the second. Fluttering muscles twitching with each filthy admission he makes. You’re already resorting to putting pressure against your clit by flexing your legs, trying to deny the feelings. Excusing it all by the still-lingering desire for release and not König. Not moving, and a miserable lack of a response forces him to approach faster. Stepping onto the rug serving as a mental barrier for you.

“Embarrassed?” He asks, head tilting a little and stretching the hood to pull away from his chest a little. Putting a bit more of his chest on display in that tight t-shirt.

You shake your head defiantly.

“Oh? Okay then… you should be able to show me then, right? Pretty girl like you, wanting to get fucked… Should be more than willing to brag that you got satisfied. That he left you satiated…”

Your face burns. Debating how to answer. If it’s even smart to try and test your voice in the first place.

“Nothing to see… got-got cleaned up…” God the miserable truth that your no-name partner’s cum was the only thing needing cleaned off of you hits like a punch to the gut.

A massive hand grabs at the blanket in your grip stops all possibility of lying anymore. A warning. Gentle, for sure and meant to be just a small test of consent. However, you too far into this to not want more. He’s just hitting all the right buttons, whether he means to or not.

“How about I… check for myself?” He asks lowly, free hand -covered in a glove- sliding up under his hood and returning into sight with the achingly sexy sight of a huge, scarred hand. His meaning isn’t lost on you, and it’s almost like your cunt floods in anticipation.

“Slide my hand between your pretty thighs, and see just how good he treated you…” He murmurs, trailing fingers down the two sides of the blanket pulled together. “Let me see if that pussy is fucking drenched like she deserves to be.”

“König.” You warn softly, eyes darting down to his hand and back to his eyes.

Not the slightest bit worried about him touching you. Not at all. But about what would happen after all the tension faded. What would come of your relationship if you fucked… or, just made things complicated in general.And he pauses, looking to you a bit cooler. His breathing still heavy, and laden with emotion.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You’re desperate to think of a way to explain yourself, but the most basic, stupid, comment comes out of your mouth.

“I don’t want this to end badly.”

He straightens just a bit. But his hands don’t move. And while from your perspective, it seems he’s hesitating on whether or not to continue, that’s not what’s got him stuck mere inches away from slipping his fingers between your folds.

He’s worried you know. That you’ve caught on to his inexperience, and are merely defending yourself from a second bad experience in one night. And god it makes this throat burn. Desperate to defend himself and prove that while -yes- he’s more than a little bit lost when it comes to the manual process, he’s still going to be the most teachable fucking man you’ve ever met.

“I’ll listen so well…” He eventually mutters, stepping just a bit closer. Voice lowering and a hint of desperation entering it. “Can—can give you everything you want… Just need to tell me…” he adds, unable to look you in the eyes.

It’s not exactly what you were expecting to hear, but it still strokes that burn between your thighs. Especially when his hands grip your hips through the blanket wrapped around you. Groping softly, massaging at the fat over your muscles and feeling hungry just to touch you.

“I… I don’t want things to be awkward afterwards.” You try to reexplain. Hoping the clarification will help him see why you hadn’t already leaned into his commanding touch.

“Awkward,” he repeats, as if it’s a foreign idea. Like it’d never crossed his mind. “Don’t plan on ignoring you anymore… Not—Not after hearing that… and knowing… fuck…”

“He couldn’t have listened… please tell me you tried to tell him what to do… what you wanted,” His rambles get more panicked. Like every thought in his head is equally important and he can’t take the time to pick one and let me even answer. “Should’ve asked what your pussy needed… how to make you feel good… make those pretty sounds..”

You’re half dazed just watching his breathy words fan the material of his hood to react to his boot kicking your feet apart. Wide hand sliding between your thighs and groaning. A deep, guttural sound that reminds of him being winded. And really… he probably should be. Because your inner thighs are dry to the touch. The wetness he’d been creating still not enough to make much fuss over. But he’s not satisfied with that alone. Immediately curling a finger to spread your lips, feeling the thick, slick of new arousal that had been nothing, if not his doing.

“Ohh, you poor baby…” He sighs lowly, head rolling back at the mere sensation of your pussy under his fingertips. Feeling you a bit anxiously, yet getting a buzz in the back of his skull when your hole pulses against his prodding touch. “Left you so fucking hot…”

It’s a fast movement but he’s got you off your feet and dropped down onto the couch in one swift move. Your back arched in the slumped position and the blanket that’d been covering your -pathetic- modesty, fluttered open on both sides of your hips. Leaving your core exposed to his hungry and heavy-lidded eyes. Letting out a little whine of a sound when he slowly drops to a knee; tracing his hands down your inner thighs like he was scared of touching you too harshly.

“König, please…” You gasp out, watching his thumb run over your swollen labias. Pinching your fat lips together softly and inadvertently putting delicious pressure on your swollen clit. He curses under his breath, free hand grabbing your thigh with bruising strength.

“Tell me how to please you,” He commands, eyes flashing dangerously wide in the icy moonlight streaming through the living room windows. “I need to make you come.”

His desperate, and knows you can see it. His whole body shakes seeing your flushed pussy a mere foot away from his face, and nothing but opportunity and his hood preventing him from burying his face in it. Watching as you shyly reach for his wrist, guiding his hand where you want it. Extending his fingers and whimpering when your motion for him to rub small circles over your clit sends those to-intense waves of pleasure through your pussy.

“Like that… just like that…” You’re able to praise with a shaky nod of your head.

Rocking your hips in tandem with his movements and nearly crying out in relief when he diligently keeps the same pressure to you despite your little twitches and grinds. Allowing you the freedom to plant your feet on the edge of the couch and simply feel. König’s lost in it. Lost in the sight of you. Your pretty mouth gaping open and your hips chasing the touch he’s providing. His breath catching when you cry out or give a weak praise for his work. Like you’re enjoyingwhat he’s doing.

But god he’s happy to stay right where you want him, how you want him. Feeling his knee dig into the harsh floorboards, and ignoring it with a refreshed feeling of duty he’d long lost as a soldier. Never had he been given such a pretty fucking prize to work for. Nothing as sweet as seeing your cunt drip from his rough fingers rubbing soft, almost too-soft circles over it. Not even realizing that he’d spent almost fifteen minutes just rubbing your clit lazily when your hand reaches back down. Happy to direct him yet again, especially when he doesn’t even need a verbal direction to do exactly what you want.

“Fingers,” You whisper through panting exhales. “Give me your fingers…”

Your little hand grabs his pointer and middle fingers, spreading your own slick over them like a goddamn professional before guiding him down to your aching hole. Letting go just long enough to feel the thick digits press though that first little ring of tightened muscle. Forcing your eyes open to witness his mostly-hidden expression as he sinks knuckle deep inside of you.

“So fucking pretty,” His head shakes a little, lost in the creamy slick gathering at the base of his fingers as he curls him up towards your pelvis just a little. Subconsciously scared to do the wrong thing, but desperate to keep your cunt flex and mold to his touch. “Tell me, sweetheart… show me what she needs.”

You’re too possessed to chase your high to not listen. Readjusting your bent legs on the couch to gently lift your hips and sink them back down. Slowly getting used to the feeling of his thick fingers, already deeper than your no-name partner. Groaning when they bump into your g-spot just hard enough to make your clit burn. Grinding against his hand and keeping one hand wrapped around his wrist just to try and ground yourself to the present situation. Lost in the rhythm of fucking yourself -quite literally- stupid within mere minutes. Beginning to hear that vulgar, sucking sound of your pussy gripping his fingers and utterly drooling over his palms.

König’s helpless to so more than sing your praise. “That’s a good girl… so good for me. Using me like a fucking toy.”

It’s the best he’s felt in a long time. Watching you take from him. Too absorbed to even think about anything other than yourself. Not in enough control to even worry about the true moans and yelps escaping you. Real pleasure wracking your body and burning every nerve ending.

“More… please more…” You cry softly, hips slowing to a painfully sexy grind as you squeeze the tendons in his wrist with your thumb.

König takes a little more initiative than he’s normally comfortably using, but adds a third finger. Slowly pumping them in and out, little by little, to help you adjust. Watching as your eyebrows pinch together in focus. A low growl rumbles in his chest, his mouth practically watering as your cunt sucks him in.

“Let me taste it, baby…” He huffs, head flinching forwards before backing off, repeating the action a couple more times. “Wanna help… just—just let me taste you…”

You clench around his fingers when he rests his cheek against your inner thigh. Big, wide eyes pleading with you so innocently like he isn’t stretching your hole wider than the biggest of your toys can with nothing but a few fingers. Forcing you to slow the roll of your hips, a shaky hand reaching out to cup his face through the mask. Rubbing a thumb over his hidden cheekbone with a little whimpered hum. Pulling his head closer to you, hissing when the hem of his hood merely grazes your clit.

“How’d you want it?” He asks, head down and pulling his mask up so you’re stuck. Forced to merely feel his mouth so close to you, and not see the shape of his mouth.

“Lick-lick my clit… s-soft…” You whine, eye shutting when the hot fan of his exhale his your fevered skin.

Holding his head steady with one hand, you almost coming up off the couch when his tongue makes one, long, lazy, lap between your folds. Gripping at the material of his hood just tight enough that he ends up ripping the whole thing off. Tossing it to the floor with an aggressive snarl that rumbles against your clit. Sparks of pleasure forcing your thighs apart and jerking your hips back up. Chasing his mouth. The rough texture of his tongue, and the slight graze of his teeth against your slicked folds.

Your orgasm approaches fast from there. Between his fingertips stroking you deep, and the new rhythm of his tongue lapping your slick up to massage your clit, it’s hard to even warn König that he can’t stop for risk of ruining your long-awaited release.

“König… K… oh… fuucckk…”

Your back arches tightly, both hands grabbing harshly at his hair with an unintelligible shout as you come. Jerking wildly and one of your feet losing it’s hold on the edge of the couch. Trying to fight through the shocks of pleasure, and groaning curses with a hoarse throat. Feeling König’s free hand latch onto your thigh to keep you from running away too far from his still-working lips and tongue. Sucking up the wet drips of release trying to drip down his hand.

“Slow, slow down.” You whimper, pushing at his forehead just a little. The pressure too much. The stretch of his fingers still satisfying but overstimulating.

Your so fucking grateful that he doesn’t fight you on it, or force you to try for another. And maybe it’s just the mere sight of you. abdominal muscles twitching, forcing your upper body to do baby-curls with each flex of your pulsing cunt. Toes curled and an all-over buzzing sensation making it hard to even make sense of where your limbs are in relation to the rest of your body, much less König or the couch your hardly laying on.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His softened voice almost gives you emotional whiplash, especially when he bends over you forehead resting against yours softly.

Gently removing his fingers with murmured apologies when your little winces mar your pretty features. Both hands sliding up your sides to help lift you back onto the couch, moving to sit himself next to you just long enough to reposition your body on his lap. Pulling that blanket back over your bottom half and maneuvering your cold, tingling feet between his thighs like he can tell they’re freezing. He presses soft kisses all over your forehead and nose. Rocking you softly and squeezing at the muscles in the back of your neck reassuringly.

“You needed that… needed to feel good…” he murmurs almost lovingly.

You nod dumbly, laying your head against his shoulder. Letting out soft nearly unconscious whimpers and a soft repetition of his name in cum-drunk appreciation.

“Told you I could listen… could be good for you,” He adds, almost like he’s reassuring himself of the idea. “Wanted to be better than him. Needed to prove it.”

He holds up your weighty head, stabilizing it with care and a sickeningly sweet look of devotion in his eyes.

“You’re never going to fake it again, sweetheart.”

reblogs & comments are always appreciated <3

[teatreeoilll]

𝐎𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐚 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

˚• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • .

w/c - 1.2k content - MDNI! 18 + , fem!reader, porn with lil backstory, oral (m!receiving), nobody's really objecting to this lol

• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . °

The second-floor bathroom of the Tokyo District Court always smelled like bleach. No one could entirely solve the mystery of why the cleaning lady always spilled more than a gallon of it on the white-tiled floor of that specific bathroom - but it was precisely why Higuruma Hiromi preferred to fuck in it. And after a long day at court, you didn't mind it much either.

Hiromi nuzzles his face into your neck, pressing soft kisses against the exposed skin like he knew made you shudder. "Fuck," You tighten the grip your fingers hold on his hair, "That was terrible."

"Huh?" You feel his confused, warm breaths at your neck, debating what he'd done that was so wrong.

"I said it was terrible, Higuruma," you mutter, mind still occupied with the trial, "This old prick Saito has the hots for your client, so he won't even look at our evidence."

"You shouldn't call the purveyor of justice an old prick. Besides, could you not mention him when were - " He presses another gentle kiss on your neck, "having a moment here?"

"Why not?" You chuckle, "The toupee doesn't do it for you?"

Hiromi lets out a snort before his face falls on your shoulder, laughing. You almost forgot he could laugh. Your heart flutters as his body trembles against yours, shaking you along with it.

It shouldn't make your heart flutter. You promised - it's strictly professional in court and strictly physical after it. Neither of you had the time for the things that come with a fluttering heart and an earnest laugh.

He breaks away from you, his hands still resting on your thighs where he let them run under your pencil skirt when he first pushed you against the bathroom stall door. His cheeks flush red, and a small smile still unusually graces his lips. Another flutter, fuck.

You can't help it, running a hand up to his cheek, caressing it with your thumb. "Haven't seen you laugh in a while," you admit, feeling the warmth of his skin under the soothing movements of your thumb, "You're the only one in our class who didn't stray away from the righteous path."

Righteous. Higuruma hated that word coming out like that, it made morality sound miserable. Right would be a better word, but it would mean you were on the wrong path - and he couldn't bring himself to tell you that.

He fights the urge to let his head fall into your palm, and the light quickly leaves his eyes, "Objection, your honor," he says, "the prosecution is leading the witness."

"Accepted," you sigh, removing your hand from his cheek to move it along the fabric of his shirt down to unbuckle his belt, eliciting a quiet gulp from Hiromi. "Sorry," you mutter as you get down on your knees, your hands working on the zipper of his trousers.

"Don't - " his words are cut off by the rush his body gets from your hand rubbing against his rapidly hardening erection through his boxers, "Apologize," he breathes. You look up at him, and he thinks he might come just from your big doe eyes staring at him while you pull down his boxers, freeing his cock to wrap your fingers around it.

It's his favorite sight. It's been that way for years. Since the first exam season in law school, when you turned to him and said he looked like a good study partner. He knocked on your dorm room door with his hands overflowing with textbooks, only to drop them when you opened it with nothing but a towel wrapped around your body. "It's good to get the blood flowing to your brain first," you said.

"Fuck - " He hisses when your lips wrap around his tip, his hand jolting to press against the stall door to hold himself steady while the other hand finds its way to your hair, digging his fingers into it.

You don't take your eyes off the way his face twitches with pleasure, hollowing out your cheeks as you bob your head on his length. "Shit - you're so - " he groans, lost in the feeling of the wet heat engulfing him as you quicken your pace, letting the saliva run from the corners of your mouth, "beautiful, fuck - " his hand runs to where you hollow your cheeks, lingering there so he could feel himself inside your mouth.

You place a hand on his thigh to steady yourself, feeling the shake in his legs every time the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. You pull back from his cock with a lewd 'pop', taking in a sharp breath before flicking your tongue against the flushed tip of his cock to lick the beads of precum forming there. His knuckles go white when his fingers try to dig into the stall wall.

"God," he moans when you wrap your lips around his cock again. He holds his hips steady, trying not to gag you as he brushes a stray strand of hair from your face, "I love you."

You stop. His cock is still halfway in your mouth when you look up at him, but he knows what you want to say, We don't say that, Hiromi. His eyes widen, large apologetic brown orbs that stare down at you as you resume your pace, pulling up a hand to stroke the part of his length that doesn't fit in your mouth.

His face grows hot, fuck. His cock twitches inside your mouth, and you smile against it for a moment before your swollen lips tighten their grip around it to suck him hungrily. Fuck it, he thinks as his heart races, and he bucks his hips to reach deeper into your throat, "I love you," he moans, chasing his release, "fuck - I love you."

Your stomach turns at his words, the heat rushing to warm your cheeks, and you're desperate to hear these words leave his mouth again and again as your fingers dig deeper into his thigh as you let out soft moans that vibrate around his cock.

He doesn't manage to give out any warning when his muscles tense, his mouth half open with a quiet "I love you," leaving his lips followed by breathy moans of your name as you gagged on his release flooding your mouth.

"S-Shit, I'm sorry - " Hiromi pulls out from your mouth, his hand gently cupping your face. Your teary eyes still pointed at him as you wiped the remainder of his seed from the corners of your lips.

You get up from your knees as he fixes himself back in his trousers, "Hiro," you mutter, and his breath hitches. You never call him that, so that's it, fuck.

"Listen - I - " He stutters.

"Isn't the guy supposed to be on his knees when he says that?"

"Huh?" His heart about to burst from his chest.

"Isn't the - ah, never mind," you chuckle, "how about you buy me a coffee?"

He'd buy you a house if you asked him, "Sure," he says, pausing for a moment, "I do - love you, you know?"

A blush creeps to your cheeks, "I know, just - " you sigh, "I - uh," a speechless prosecutor, that's a first, "I love you too." Coffee won't cut it, I need a drink.

[reidmania]

matilda | spencer reid

summary; when the topic of kids come up between you and spencer, you admit you are scared of being a mother & having your own family with spencer because of generational trauma and your childhood.

warnings; hurt x comfort, fears of being a mother, mummy issues, daddy issues, mentions of child abuse, slight bpd reference (not even a noticeable one) , fears of passing on trauma, both open up about fears, spencer talks about the schizophrenia gene, fem reader, established relationships, angst and a fuck ton of comfort

an; ME ME ME ME ME ME !! so based off matilda by harry styles just so u know if it wasn’t obvious!! to be honest this didn’t do the justice for me i wanted it to but i think bc my fear is so far implemented that comforting myself w a fictional character doesnt even work.

Maybe it was too soon.

A year long relationship. A year of spending every other day possible by one another’s side. A year of sweet nothings, giggly mornings, and soft kisses on the way out when leaving for work. A year of hand holding and three squeezes as silent I love you’s.

Maybe it was too soon to have the conversation about your future together. Too soon to talk about marriage, buying a home, settling down, having kids — even if it was just future planning. It’s not like either of you were planning on having kids now, or getting married right now, or buying a home now. Its not like it was ‘Im ready for more right now’ conversation. It was just a ‘Do you see more for us’ conversation yet it seemed to hold the same looming cloud over your head.

It was brought up when JJ came in with her newborn henry, you were there just visiting Spencer while he had some spare time. You weren’t expecting to be there for an extra hour, holding the newborn in your arms cooing at his every little movement, Spencer by your side, hand on your knee as he looked down on the sweet baby.

Then, you were asked if you wanted kids and you froze. You didn’t have time to even think about answering before Emily was saying how much of a great mother you would be. How you were just naturally good with kids. You laughed and brushed it off as Spencer smiled and squeezed your knee gently.

You handed baby Henry back to JJ moments later.

“Do you.. Not want kids?” Spencer asked later. It was after dinner, the rain outside was pattering against the window, loud enough to be heard over the sound of the tv which was playing a random documentary Spencer had put on. The question caught you off guard. It wasn’t that you hadn’t talked about kids with Spencer, just not seriously.

You turned your head to look at him, you knew this was probably a necessary conversation to have. You knew it was probably time to be honest yet that left a heavy weight on your chest and an overwhelming sense of nausea to your stomach — like the idea of having kids did.

“I don’t know.” You answered, honestly. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to have kids, you adored them, being around them, watching their wide eyes and curious faces when they got to that perfect toddler age when they were so curious about the world. You adored kids. It was that you didn’t think you could be a mother. Not a good one anyways.

Spencer’s face twisted into something, he shuffled a little on the couch, hands coming to rest on the back of it, behind your head as he sat up a little straighter. He didn’t answer, seemingly lost in thought, or a mental debate with himself. You could basically see the mental argument through his eyes and your chest fell.

“Do you?”

“Yes.” He answered instantly. You wanted to cry, you could actually feel the burning sensation in your nose because it felt like you were disappointing him. Normally — from your experience, people who wanted kids, longed for them, it wasn’t something they could pass off as fine without having. It was apart of their future lives.

“Oh.” It left your lips as your head dipped down slightly, wetting your lips as your mouth went dry. Your chest tightened with the crushing pressures of expectation and disappointment. His hand moved from the couch to tuck gently under your chin, lifting your head back to meet his eyes.

He looked at you like he was searching for something, and whatever it was he was looking for he seemed to find. “Is there a specific reason you don’t know?” He asked, voice gentle and steady, as if he knew.

“I don’t know” You answered again, it was unhelpful but the real answer seemed too heavy on your tongue to leave your lips. He tilted his head a little, his thumb gently running over your chin. “Okay. Thats okay.” He said, seemingly understanding your spiral of thought — or so you thought until he spoke again.

“Is— Is it me? Us?” He asked, as if you were doubting having kids with him, or a future with him. It was such a silly doubt you wanted to laugh because there was no way in the world, that was the last reason you would doubt your course of motherhood. Honestly, him being by your side made the thought a little lighter on your mind — not light enough.

You shook your head, “No, it’s not— Its nothing like that.. It’s just.. Me?” It came out as a question, a doubt more than you intended it too.

His eyebrows furrowed, hand moving from your chin to gently cup your jaw. “Do you want to tell me about that?” He asked softly, as if letting you know it was okay if you didn’t. That this conversation was entirely up to you and what you were comfortable with saying.

A huff left your lips as your head tilted to lean into his touch. “Have- Have you heard that saying? That the abused becomes the abuser, or hurt people, hurt people, or a household that once had an angry man will always have an angry man?” You rambled off the common sayings that only further installed the doubt that swarmed your mind and had since you were a teenager.

His features softened as he realised your point and what direction this conversation was heading towards, his thumb brushed over the soft skin of your cheek. “Mhm, a lot of abusers were also abused or experienced trauma in their childhood.” He nodded. Your frown deepened because you knew what he said was true.

“What if I become like them?” Your voice was quiet and barely above the whisper as the daunting fear left your lips, your eyes peered up at his. He didn’t need to ask who you were talking about, your parents.

He shook his head instantly, “You aren’t them.” He answered. You knew deep down he was right, but even looking in the mirror and seeing the features you shared with your parents made your stomach twist and chest carry a little heavier if you stared too long. When you noticed similar behavioural traits your mind would fog with self depreciation because of your hatred for them.

How could you ever love someone so similar to them, even if it was yourself?

“But what if I become like them. I feel like it’s wrong— and unfair for me to bring children into this world.. not when they could be so much like me.. Or like my parents.” You spoke, the earnest truth, no matter how much it hurt to say aloud.

His head further tilted and his heart ached at your words and the knowledge of your doubts, the way you viewed yourself as a second of your parents when from what he had heard you were so different. You were gentle and sweet, you had your moments like everyone did, but you weren’t them.

“I think any kid would be lucky to be like you. You’re gentle, caring, nurturing and dedicated. You show empathy to everyone— even those who don’t deserve it. Those are good traits for a child to develop” He spoke, listing off the numerous good things about you. It made your heart ache.

“But what about everything else? What if i pass.. My issues onto my children? Thats unfair. It would just be mean” You ushered out, mind swirling with doubts that kept you awake at night.

“Your parents endured a lot in their childhood, I know you know that. Their parents weren’t kind to them and your parents weren’t kind to you-You don’t have to feel bad about that, because it was unfair, and wrong of them to treat you that way regardless of the way they were treated in their childhood. The difference is you recognise that, you recognise what happened was wrong and the way you were treated was wrong. You’re putting in the effort to heal and to be better. You aren’t your parents, whether you decide you want to have kids or not. You aren’t them.”

His words weighed on your mind as you tried to process everything you were saying. It wasn’t the first time you had spoken to Spencer about your trauma or your childhood. You had been open with him about the abuse you endured, as well as the similar abuse your parents had both endured by their own parents. You told him about the guilt you held, how you for some reason felt bad for your parents.

It was a common theme in your mind, that maybe if your parents had met someone in their younger years who gave them a hug and and reminded them the world wasn’t as cruel as their parents made it seem — maybe your life would have turned out differently. Maybe your parents would’ve been good. Maybe your mother would have been nurturing and sweet, your father kind and humorous.

You were blessed in the way you had those people around you, the ones who reminded you that life wasn’t all it seemed to be in the house you grew up in. It wasn’t covering bruises with stolen makeup, or constant yelling and arguments after your father had drank too much, it wasn’t the dismissive and uncaring nature of your mother after a bad day — which seemed to have been everyday.

You were blessed in the way you got out when you had the chance. You went to therapy, you made something of yourself. You surrounded yourself with good hard working people, and you had met the most amazing man.

And yet you felt guilty that you had been able to do this, and your parents hadn’t. You wondered if the curse of natural unhappiness was passed down generation to generation, and would end your kids in a similar position. You wondered if you would become the same shameful and dismissive as your mother, or the same cruel and unkind as your father.

“It’s just, so scary.” You breathed out, because it was. “I don’t want to put someone else through what I had went through. I don’t want to ruin any chance they had at being good by being a child of mine.” You mumbled out, the best words you could find to describe your current state of mind.

He nodded understandingly, listening to every word and filling in every empty space your mind didn’t let you. He sat up a little straighter as he kept his gaze soft on yours. “Have I told you about my fear of passing the schizophrenia gene down to my future children?” He asked.

You shook your head. He hummed. “It was really bad a few years ago. I thought kids would be completely off the table for me, because the idea of bringing a kid into a world who may have to suffer a disease like that seemed so… unfair” He used the word you had repeated.

You understood what he meant, you really did. It seemed so wrong to do that to someone who had no choice over the life they were being brought into, no idea’s of the struggles they would face.

You listened carefully to his words, “How do you.. stop being scared of that?” You asked, because clearly his mind had changed since then. You couldn’t seem to get the fear out of your mind. It was constant eating away at your brain.

He paused for a moment, eyes staying on yours. He let out a soft breath, “You don’t. Thats not something that goes away, because it’s a valid fear to have, all the things you are scared of you are right to be scared of.. But it only further proves you care.” He said gently, “I think it’s less about stopping the fear and instead accepting it.” He said.

Your brain didn’t quite compute his words, his thumb danced gently over your skin. He took note of your lack of understanding what he meant. “Accepting that it is possible that we may pass things down to our children, whether its diseases or behaviours — The only thing we can do about that is be there for them when they need to learn how to cope with it, loving them regardless. You are so capable of love, and care. I see it in you everyday. You embody it.” He breathed out.

You curled gently into his side, your face coming to bury itself in the fabric of his shirt. His hand moved to rest on your upper back, rubbing soft circles over the skin there. You craved the comfort of his touch as your mind processed the comfort of his words. He was happy to provide it.

“I think I should talk about this in therapy” You mumbled out. He let out a soft chuckle, you felt the vibrations from it in his chest, making your lips curve into a slight smile. He nodded.

“I think if kids are something you want and the only thing stopping you is this fear then its something you should talk about in therapy. I know your parent’s took a lot from you, but I don’t think you should let them take your chance of building a family that will show you the unconditional love and care you deserve.”

And you did, the next time you went to therapy you brought up the topic of fearing passing down intergenerational trauma, and you spoke about every doubt on your mind. Later you came home and told Spencer about it.

He held you in his arms and kissed all over your face, expressing how proud he was and how much he loved you.

[hysteria-things]

ive never requested anything ever so..

but ive read everything you've wrote and oml your writing is heaven sent 🙏

is there any possible way you could do something kinda like the trope u had w the fic zipper u wrote where the reader is nates sister and nate catches chris and reader doing it or almost doing it?

SECRET'S OUT (part one)

read part two here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you are the little sister of nate doe, who so happens to be best friends with chris sturniolo; who so happens to be the boy you’ve been hooking up with behind his back for weeks.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, fluff, making out, swearing, p in v, praising, getting caught

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 872

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: thank you anon for the kind words🥹

decided to combine these two requests! hope i did you guys justice :)

i’ve been getting a handful of chris requests which is why i’ve been posting about him more, but matt will make an appearance soon i promise🙏

you tap the contact on your phone, acting like you’re calling your crush for the first time. you bite your lip and smile while bringing it up to your ear.

the person on the other line picks up after two rings. “hello?”

“hey!” you say with excitement.

chris chuckles through the phone. you almost melt at the sound. “hi, baby.”

the heart in your chest flutters. everybody on the planet knows chris cannot stand that nickname, but he always makes you an exception.

you walk over to the bed and lay on your side, your unoccupied hand rests on your cheek.

“soooo…” you drag out. “nate’s out right now…”

“uh huh.” chris says with amusement, knowing exactly what you want.

you clear your throat and get straight to the point. “come over, pretty boy.”

chris’s dick twitches in his pants. “give me twenty minutes.”

“make it ten,” you say before disconnecting the call.

what do you know? chris comes marching into your room about ten minutes later. the door must’ve been unlocked.

he smiles down at you — since you’re so much shorter. you stand on your tippy toes to give him a peck on the lips.

a peck turns into two pecks. then three. then to his tongue exploring your mouth.

the smacking of your guys’ lips echoes through the room as chris backs you up to your bed. when the back of your knees hit the frame, you fall backward onto the mattress. the kiss is still intact. nothing could be able to stop you now.

“y/n? are you home?” nate’s voice shouts from down the hall.

okay, maybe one thing can stop you.

chris immediately pulls away to scramble to his feet. it’s too late to shove him somewhere since nate’s footsteps eventually reach the door to open it.

chris stands like a statue next to the door. luckily, he’s on the side where the door blocks him from your brother’s view.

“i thought you already left?” you say breathlessly, sitting up to make yourself look less suspicious.

“i did, but i came back to grab something.” he explains, looking around your room. “are you good? do you need anything while i’m out?”

“no, i’m good. thanks though!” you reply enthusiastically.

he gives you a look of disgust before shutting the door and making his way down the hallway. chris sniggers at you.

“shut up,” you mumble as he starts coming over to you to continue what he started.

he starts to kiss your neck and collarbones, each one leaving you with a tickling sensation.

“you’re so gorgeous.” he says between kisses. “the best thing to ever happen to me.”

your cheeks flush a maroon. he gently starts removing your pajama shorts and underwear. his lips still pepper your skin as he takes off his lower attire as well.

he finally pulls away, removing both yours and his shirts. he stares at your naked body in awe. “so fucking gorgeous.”

you moan as he starts to push in slowly, resting his forehead on yours. you’ve been railed by this man more than enough times, but you’ll never fully adjust to his size no matter how hard you try.

he sits there for a few seconds, caressing the outside of your thighs with his thumbs in a soothing manner.

“you okay?” he asks, kissing you again and again.

you nod. he starts to thrust deep and slow, earning a ‘faster’ from your lips when you think he’s going too slow. he interlocks your fingers with his and holds them above your head.

“oh, fuck.” you say in a voice higher than your normal one. “just like that, chris."

his movements are at a decent speed. you spread your legs wider, forcing him to go deeper. he rests his head in the crook of your neck and moans with you.

you pant and whimper at each thrust, loving his warm and safe touch.

it’s not until he hits a certain spot that make your eyes flutter closed, a wide grin of contentment plastering your face.

“does it feel good, baby? hm?” he starts, lifting his head to look at your face of pleasure. “you like it right there, don’t you? ah, you’re so fucking tight.”

you clench around him, making him lose rhythm for only a moment. “chris, i’m cl—”

“i fucking knew it.”

the two of you pause and stare at each other in fear. your face turns pale when all the pleasure is gone in a snap.

you both take turns facing the source and cover yourselves with your comforter.

nate is standing in the doorway with his hand on the knob. you’ve never seen nate mad, and right now he doesn’t look mad, but something feels off.

he needs to let this sit for a moment before he explodes.

chris grabs his undergarments that are on the floor next to him and puts them on quickly.

nate glances at you, who’s too frozen in fear to do anything. he then looks at chris and exhales loudly.

“for future reference, don’t leave your fucking shoes by the front door.” his voice is in a low but dark tone. “now get out before i beat the shit out of you.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom

[milksnake-tea]

warning: probably an ooc neuvillette i havent touched genshin in three months i know nothing about him this is based purely off vibes. also gets kinda suggestive at the end but dw its open ended BYE

Thinking about being a phantom thief in Fontaine.

A notorious criminal that simply boggles, and quite honestly, infuriates the minds of the authorities.

You leave behind calling cards as a patronizing warning, and take whatever so happens to catch your eye - slipping past any level of security, no matter how strong. You willingly put your (fake) name out to the world, flaunting it even, and yet, no arrests have been made.

How could they, after all? How could you arrest a person who didn't exist?

Your name has become a curse among the voices of officers and lawmakers alike. Whenever a case has your name painted over it, all the investigators can expect is a headache. After all, you're a professional - and professionals don't leave behind any clue unintentionally.

And in a similar fashion, the only way you're caught is when you allow yourself to be caught.

Neuvillette can only sigh in exasperation you enter his office through the window once again, the quiet breeze and the clink of a lock being pried open being the only indicators of your existence.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, a smile on your lips as you press a kiss right behind his pointed ears - feeling as he shivers, just a little bit, under your touch.

"I believe I told you to enter through the door," Neuvillette mutters, leaning back into your embrace, tilting his head up to stare up at you. Your lips tug into a smirk.

"Since when do I listen to you, mon cherie?" you laugh, an airy little chuckle like a windchime. You peck his nose, snickering as he wrinkles it. "Now, now, don't pout. You know I can't come in the normal way. I'd be arrested on the spot if I were to be caught entering the Chief Justice's office."

"You, be caught?" Neuvillette questions, raising his brow playfully. You hum, resting your chin on his shoulder, nuzzling him.

"Yes," you insist. "This place has so much security, all for you, my dear. Even I would have trouble simply walking through the front doors."

"And so you decide to scale the walls and break in through my window?"

"Precisely." Your hand comes to cup at Neuvillette's face, turning him to face you. "And now do you see how much trouble I go through, just to see you?"

"Unnecessary trouble," Neuvillette replies, unbothered. You roll your eyes.

"Goodness, just what did I do to deserve such an ungrateful lover?" you weep dramatically, jutting out your lip as you pout. "You know, there are hundreds of ladies out there who can only wish their husbands did a tenth of what I do for you."

"I apologize." A sliver of a laugh leaves Neuvillette's lips, his eyes crinkling as he smiles at you. "What can I do to earn your forgiveness?"

You hum, your gloved hand taking a firmer hold of his chin, your thumb running over his lip. Neuvillette doesn't resist when you open his lips slightly, pressing down on his bottom lip with your thumb.

"I think you know what," you mused.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Beca beca please please I’m begging you write smt w cooper x shy!plus size reader. Please please please😭😭😭🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

In The Now | Cooper Adams/Abbott x Plus Size F!Reader

Gif credit to @d-vient

Synopsis: Nightly walks by the fire station is a ritual, a way to clear your mind from the bullshit in your life. The firefighters do so much for your community, why not give them a little appreciation back? Though, only one remains, and he happens to be your favorite.

Warnings: Porn with Plot, Smut, Soft!Cooper, Shy!Reader, Mentions of weight (soft belly/tummy, grabbable thighs, soft flesh, ect.), Public Sex???, Oral F!Receiving, Floor Sex, Cooper Talks You Through It (Shh its canon,)

Word Count: 6.2k

Rating: M

Author’s Note: I hope I did your request justice.

Tagging: @rubyfruitjungle @cherryinterlude @lilly3434 @amethystblackkchaos @rosaleelovesdilfs @babygorewhore @dirtylittlefairytales @redpillbluepill @strangererotica

If you would like to be tagged for my fics, please fill this out

Introvert; a typically reserved or quiet person who tends to be introspective and enjoys spending time alone. Shy; being reserved or having or showing nervousness or timidity in the company of other people. What do both have in common? You. Being shy and introverted is not a bad thing, no, in fact it is a great thing. It protects you from the horrors of the world, keeps you in line with other things in life so – you can get the full experience without the bullshit that comes with it. It is a better way to go through each day; You’re not naïve but careful. You don’t leave traces where you have been, but you garner experiences. You don’t remember conversations but, you remember names and faces. It is better that way; it is easier to be in the background of everyone else’s journey than to be at the forefront. Not being seen is good, it’s safe. You know where you are and cannot be touched. It’s better than whatever is going on locally.

Sure, Philadelphia isn’t the prime location for a job change but – it was better than one season states. At least in Philly you got to see the leaves change, sun to rain to snow, every element was prevalent each day. It was a step up from what you were used to, nothing could follow you here. Your past, your regrets – they stayed away, like they deserved to. You deserved and needed a fresh start – this was the best way to do it, this ensured that you could be seen with fresh eyes, over critical ones. You didn’t want to be in the spotlight, or in places where it wasn’t important. You wanted a name for yourself, but one that didn’t bring attention. Wallflower, that was what you wanted. Standing, listening, analyzing; You take inventory of a room and guess the life pattern for everyone, then be on your merry way. Quiet, demure, mindful.

Moving here was a dream come true – a great work opportunity that you couldn’t pass on. You would’ve been a fool to do so. Plus, a way to escape the realism of your hometown? Call it a win-win situation. It was what every reclusive person wanted; Fully remote, put up in a swanky condo across from the fire department – so you know you’d never lose power in snowstorms. It was good; Safe. It meant you were out of the public sights of the world, you could in passing say hi and move on – never commit to the names. They never mattered anyways. It was a great experience, a great road trip drive, and better yet – a dream come true to explore.

Ladder 49 in Philly is an exuberant bunch – always laughing and welcoming the neighbors in. Every Spring day they are drawing hopscotch with the kids. Every Summer they are playing basketball. Every Autumn they are carving pumpkins and delivering turkeys. Every Winter they are holding toy drives and shoveling people out. When they say they are community driven – they are not kidding. Years upon years of photos always sit in the forefront of the station, showing new and oldcomers alike how much they love giving back, how devoted they are to the community. It was the luck of the draw for you to be across from it, it was a match made in heaven. The first day you moved in was just a show of their kindness, their dedication. Especially when the fire chief came strolling over with a simple sentence: “Let me take those for you.” He didn’t even stutter or miss a step as he took the box out of your arms, and carried it inside. A leader of example, considering his men were quick to grab the rest. That was your first interaction with Cooper Adams, and sure as hell hoped it wasn’t going to be the last.

With the Summer cresting into Fall in Philly, shorts weather now became jeans and a sweatshirt weather. It felt better, not having to deal with chafing thighs and the constant sticky skin. The humidity was brutal this time of the year, but as it dried against you skin it felt nice. The second you could feel it on your back, your stomach, and your sides? It was AC for you. But with the Fall rolling through it just made things better. The air was crisper, the mood was starting to get that spooky feel – with Halloween on the way in. It was everything you wanted, everything you asked for. Everything that made the world feel alright again.

Your favorite things to do during this time were take late night strolls through the town, getting use to the city and seeing how places were starting to decorate. Headlamps lined the streets in Victorian era black steel, the orange glow of the lightbulbs inside caused a cozy feeling to overtake your body. It brought you solace and comfort, knowing everything would be orange and red soon – and the rain would move in sweetly. Pulling your coat tighter around your body, you wrapped your arms over your chest – enjoying the plush feel. Your boots scuffed at the newly paved sidewalk, bringing music to your ears. Laughter could be heard from around the corner, the park playground – as the smell of marijuana hung sweetly in the air. Inhaling the scent deeply, you let your eyes fall shut at the notion – swaying on your own two feet. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re already ready for Winter!” A cheery voice chimed from beside you, causing your eyes to slowly drift open. Turning your head to your right, you saw him sitting against the firehouse wall, spraying down his helmet with cleaner as he smiled at you. Him, the one you have been pining over for months since you arrived in Philly – the one to always strike up a conversation with you. Cooper Adams, fire chief, and resident DILF.

Ever since that first day of taking your boxes in, he never passes on the opportunity to strike up a conversation with you. It was sweet, it was also the highlight of your days. His long chestnut locks always falling into his face, sweeping them away with both hands – the way his ember eyes glittered against any type of lighting sent shivers down your spine. You grew to admire the golden flecks his irises always loved to send out, sparkling like Tiger’s Eye against the sun. He was beauty and grace wrapped into one, the All-American man. Everything you could see yourself wanting, Cooper was. To you it felt silly to have such a high-school crush on a man, clearly in his forties but, the body wants what it wants. The little lines around his eyes when he laughed made your heart grow softer, the way he always admired what you were wearing made your head fill with smoke. He is ethereal, and you never seized the opportunity to embrace that light he shone so brightly.

“Sshh! Don’t say that too loud or else we will get an early one,” you joked, feeling your heart race as your feet started to walk towards the firehouse entrance, leaning against the brick wall beside Cooper. Staring up at you, Cooper laughed so dreamily – music to your ears. He shook with his laughter, which you admired a lot. It wasn’t just a thoughtful reaction but, a mindless one. Everything was always so comical to Cooper, your talk backs and dad jokes. He admired them, and you loved the full body chuckle. Shaking his head, he slowly started to calm his laughter down as he leaned back into the steel chair, sighing out as he grabbed a rag from his side. Propping his helmet on his lap, Cooper started to wipe down the visor of soot from their last call uptown this morning, a two-alarm fire that thankfully no one was home for. Your eyes lost focus on Cooper’s face as he gripped his helmet hard – wiping in circular motions. His blue fire department shirt was rolled around the sleeves, highlighting the beautiful bulging of his biceps. It was soft yet hard; Easily bitable. You felt your mouth water at the thought, smirking inwardly at the idea of doing so.

“You’re fun, you know that?” Internally you cocked your eyebrow, not believing that in the slightest. Sure, you could have fun but, to the outside world? No way. That wasn’t reality. You were a wallflower, shy and quiet versus talkative and extroverted. No, this was only for Cooper – a side of yourself you never would’ve thought would come out as much as it did. Feeling your cheek heat from the compliment, you shied away in yourself for a moment, locking your eyes onto the ground by Cooper booted feet, loving to see the scuffs against the leather – proving how hard he was at work. In fact, you were so into the fantasy of him calling you fun and thinking about his boots, that you wondered what the leather would feel like rubbing against your cu-

“Ah, shit!” Cooper yelled out as he jumped out of his seat, causing you to jump back into reality. Stumbling backwards a bit from the scare, Cooper leaned forth to grab your arm – stopping you from falling. You didn’t quite understand what was happening at first when he grabbed you, but as your body evened out to the stumble, you noticed that the dark blue of Cooper’s shirt was now navy, soaked in liquid – the cleaner he was using. The pungent smell permeated your nostrils, making them flare slightly. Cooper ground his booted feet against the concrete floor, watching you intently as you caught your breath. But you could never bring your eyes to Cooper’s face, no, instead your eyes were fixated on Cooper’s chest. His sopping shirt clinging so well to his form. He was hard in some places, but soft in all the good spots. The soft pudge of his belly to the hardened contours of his sides made your mind go wild. That flush crept down your neck to your chest – suddenly causing your coat to feel too tight around you; Too warm. His nipples pebbled beneath the wetness as a cool breeze rolled through, causing him to shudder.

“Sorry about that, I hope I didn’t splash you,” Cooper spoke with remorse, grimacing at the idea of getting this stuff on you. Shaking your head as you cleared your throat – you closed your eyes momentarily. “Uhm, no…not that I could tell. I was too busy uh,” you began as you chuckled, waving your arms dramatically to signalize your almost fall. Cracking one eye open, you caught Cooper looking at you with a longing look – his head tilted to the side as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. The admiration in his eye lit you on fire, from the inside out. Those beautiful autumn night irises trailed up and down your body, focusing on your baren legs, then trailing up the expanse of your torso – flashing his teeth slightly with his lip bite. You could feel your fingers starting to shake at your side, the electricity between the two of you immaculate – ready to burst at the seams.

As Cooper’s eyes slid over your face, he came to the realization that you saw him check you out, causing his eyes to go wide for a moment before relaxing. A flush of pink tinged his cheeks cutely, causing that little color to make his eyes pop more. Letting go of his lip, he trailed his tongue over the puckered surface. He was holding something back; An internal fight with himself. God, you wanted him to just say it – to put an end to the pining. The tension, the quietness, it was too much. “I was planning on it being you that got me out of my shirt, not the cleaning products.” Cooper was nonchalant with how he spoke out, leaning against the lockers to the left of the firetruck. He used the tip of his elbow to click the garage switch – those giant doors starting to close now, putting the city away for the night so it was only you two. You were happy he did that, considering how loud the garage doors were going down, it masked the small moan you let out at his words.

You were in shock to say the least, not expecting sweet, delicate Cooper to say such a thing. I mean it was obvious you both have been playing the will they, won’t they card for months but – you thought it may have just been all in your head. “Excuse me?” You said quietly, keeping your eyes fixated on the concrete floor. You wouldn’t be able to control yourself if you looked up – your shy demeanor would fall since it was now just the two of you. There was a deeper side of yourself that was questioning all of this – if it was real, if it was in your head. It’s a fantasy to you, Cooper interested in you – a recently divorced man, bringing him back to his glory days. It wasn’t self-doubt or insecurity stopping you; You know you are beautiful, sexy, and hot – but you were afraid this was all a dream. A dream brought on by a fever or a daydream while you’re at work. But as you peered back up to meet Cooper’s attentive gaze, you knew this was real. “Honey, I wasn’t born yesterday.”

Cooper spoke so plainly, like nothing else in the world mattered within that moment. Only you did, only this moment did. “I could see it, still see it actually.” He used the rag in his hand to motion to your face in a circle, licking around the inside of his lip as he tried to find the next words. Slowly the gap between the two of you started to close, the air growing thicker and thicker as his body took up the empty space. The gentle pace at which he was going spoke measures, it was delicious – he was inevitable. “Your eyes speak the words you mouth will not.” Cooper brought his clean hand up to caress your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your soft skin. You couldn’t help but to lean in, letting the warmth of his palm envelop you. “That’s…very waxing poet of you.” Your words came out like it was never a question at all or have any hesitancy behind your words. They were true, cute, and most of all – funny.

The genuine belly laugh you got from Cooper caught you off guard - getting you off into a giggle fit. Hearing him let his true self out within that laugh made everything feel okay – the heavy sexual tension was blooming with free-spirited energy and such wholesome qualities; It made you feel so good. Bowing to you, he blew you air kisses as he slicked his hair back, nudging you with his shoulder. “Thank you,” he chortled, running a hand over his five o’clock shadow. The facial hair looked so good on him; Small specks of grey littered the edges, whilst his temple held all the rest. Grey looked so good on him; the color made him youthful in a way. “You know, I did major in poetry at school.” That was a shock to you; You never saw Cooper as the writer type but – more of an engineering background. The new tidbit of information made you question everything.

“Did you now?” You asked politely, crossing your arms over your chest. Biting his lip in your direction, Cooper leaned his arm directly above your head, looking down at you. Your eyes trailed up the inseam of his arm, seeing the light-colored veins under his skin, mixed with the intoxicating smell of his cologne. Your knees trembled the slightest bit as he stood over you, examining your face with precision. His gaze was intense, shifting from hazel to black almost immediately – his pupils taking up all the color. As he went to nod his head, he changed at the last second to a shake. “No, I went to a trade school but hey – I still dabble in a bit of Shakespeare.” He shrugged, doing the shrug smile with it. Rolling your eyes, you set your vision to the calendar hanging up on the other side of the fire station, trying to calm your heart rate from the proximity of Cooper.

He could tell your heart was racing, that your spine was growing tingling with emotion. To help quell the racing you were feeling, Cooper brought his hand back to your face, caressing your cheek as his lips were only a few inches from yours. “No, but seriously, though. I see the way you look at me.” He was so matter of fact with it, he wasn’t skating around anything anymore. He knew that he needed to speak the truth, to get across to you, because this would be the only chance he had while the guys were all playing pool downtown. “I don’t mean to be forward but, it feels good.” You made Cooper feel good, a feeling everyone deserves to have. You felt the pinprick of tears in the corner of your eyes as you smiled up at him, nudging your chin out for him to touch your lips. Cooper stayed where he was, not moving an inch, causing you to grow wanton. “Feeling wanted again.”

Deep seeded emotion found its way into his eyes, the glimmer of light reflecting off showcased the unshed tears he was holding back. With the way his Adam’s apple bobbed, you knew he was close to crying. But Cooper was not going to show that – no, instead he hissed as he pulled back, clearing his throat. A whimper slipped through his parted lips, which in turn caused you to clench your bare thighs together, swallowing down hard at the sound. You tried to be inconspicuous, so Cooper didn’t see; You were thankful his eyes were turned down. “Okay, yeah this is starting to burn,” he snickered out, grabbing at the end of his t-shirt with expert precision. Cooper whipped his shirt off quickly, small bits of chemical hitting the floor as it was removed. Your eyes went wide at the sight in front of you – showing off all the hard and soft parts of Cooper’s torso you saw earlier. This time his skin was pinkened by the exposure to the cleaner, but it didn’t take away from him at all. The happy trail leading right to his belt buckle; His chest hair spread across him in the sexiest way.

Cooper grabbed a clean rag from his locker and doused it with a water bottle, groaning as the burning got more intense. The way the liquid was about to glide over his abs, made your eyes vibrate. You felt your demeanor slipping at an alarming rate, knowing you were about to cross a line you wouldn’t come back from. “Do you want me to hose you down?” Your joke was a tight delivery, considering you couldn’t stop watching Cooper run the wet towel down his stomach, soaking up any bits of the chemicals. You felt your eyes waver heavily as your arousal grew, which caused you to stare at Cooper. His own eyes were obsidian, black around all edges – a man pained with arousal. Smirking in such a sinister way, he nodded at you – flicking the wet cloth in your direction. “Depends, you going to show me what you have hiding under that coat?”

That was it for you – you knew you were never coming back. Cooper Adams metaphorically saw what you had underneath, that lacy red number you bought a while ago. You had nowhere to wear it, and no one to wear it for. But you didn’t care – it made you feel sexy, enticing, plus it was a little incentive for Cooper in hindsight. His red iPhone gave away his favorite color, and tonight he happened to be all alone. It wasn’t planned in the slightest but, you were hoping. When you saw Cooper sitting alone tonight, you hoped no one else was there. After an hour and no one, you knew it was your time to make the call. Twisting side to side in your spot, you moved forward into Cooper’s space, giving your best innocent eyes you could muster as Cooper placed his hand on your hip, smoothing the other down your arm. “You’re not as sneaky as you might think, love.” The whispered tone in which he spoke to you made your body shudder under his touch; His lips pressed sweetly to the shell of your ear, letting his plush skin rest easily against you. He could feel the tremor in your body as his lips laid a peaceful kiss to your ear, moaning slightly into you. “I wasn’t-“ you managed to start but, alas gave up halfway through.

“Oh you were, don’t be shy, darling.” His tone shifted from calm to desperate very quick – a little tease at the end to sweeten the deal. The hand that rested against your hip scooted around to your lower back, running a finger up and down your spine. The other hand resting against your arm snaked to the back of your neck, rubbing at the nape. Quickly you were pulled flush against Cooper, feeling his bulging jeans press firmly against your stomach, causing your breath to waver. His lips only inches from yours; If you tilted your head up, you would be able to just feel him and every dream he could give you. “You were hoping that tonight, of all nights, would be the time you finally got a taste of me.” He read you like a book, because this is exactly what it was. What it all looked like, it was exactly what you needed.

Cooper let both of his hands trail over your clothed body, bringing them around to your front. Each finger admired the curves on you, the soft and supple skin hiding beneath. All he could think about doing was sinking his teeth in and leaving his mark on you. The beige trench coat you wore was adorned in front by the belt – to which you had tied into a bow. Thick, calloused fingers made their way to the simple knot, gently tugging on the longer end, teasing you. Cooper’s eyes remained on your front; mouth ajar whilst the soft fabric started to sway with the tension. You had half a mind to pull yourself back, forcing him to undo it quicker but – where was the fun in that? Cooper wouldn’t have it either, no, he would make your life a living hell if you did that. This was all about the chase, never the end – but you knew it was going to be worth it.

As you were about to speak, the last of the knot fell out in front of you, leaving just the first loop around. Cooper’s agile fingers worked diligently to undo it, letting the belt fall to your side, brushing past your exposed thighs. Taking in the sight of you fully clothed, Cooper took a deep breath as he let his left-hand swing back your coat, now being able to see the glory underneath. The teddy lingerie you were wearing didn’t leave much to the imagination, in fact it gave Cooper the eyeful he had been dying for since day one. You caught his eye, being so adorable and shy, he knew he had to have you. Letting out a low wolf whistle, he took in the gorgeous sight in front of him. Breasts were uncovered due to the structure of the lingerie but held up just nicely due to the underwiring. A keyhole slit sat against the front of your stomach, highlighting its softened nature. Cooper though was drawn to the open slit between your legs where it would be covered, growing harder by the second knowing your cunt has been free this whole night.

“Well, you’d be right,” Cooper stated huskily, rubbing his thumb against the side of your breast. You gasped at the soft touch, shivering under his finger as the cold air of the firehouse nipped at your exposed skin. Everything in you broke, that small thin thread that had been holding you together – completely unraveled. Cooper didn’t waste another second as he leaned forth to capture your neck between his lips, greedily biting at your supple flesh. The moan that ripped from your throat caused Cooper to grow feral; Your back pushed against the lockers next to the firetruck, the cold in perfect contrast with your heated skin. Your hands tangled in Cooper’s soft hair, tugging at the root for him to move his lips upward. You could feel the heat of his bites against your neck, knowing you’d be wearing his mark for days.

Once your lips finally hit Cooper’s, everything you had been holding back on came to fruition. It was unlike anything you had experienced within a kiss. It wasn’t all lips, teeth, and spit like you were used to, it was primal yet possessive. It reminded of the first rainfall of Summer; The air slightly too thick as it crests, skies turning grey at the drop of a hat. But through all that muck and heat you feel it – the cold, crisp drops of rain against your bated skin, absorbing into you – becoming one. The smell around you amplifying the sensation; Goosebumps rising against your flesh as you cool from the inside out. Safe, you’re safe. You’re okay. You’re at peace. It wasn’t like a traditional kiss, it felt more. Cooper must’ve felt it too because his hands pushed you further against his lips, caressing your neck as the fingers of his left hand squeezed your breast lovingly.

He was a man on a mission, a man intoxicated by your touch, how you felt, and everything that encompassed you. He wanted to get drunk off you, and swim in that loving pool of your soul, and never surface again. For the last few months, he felt so unloved, unwanted, embarrassed because of how Rachel treated him. It made him feel insecure, like he wasn’t worthy of that kind of love. But that flew right out the window the second he got you in his hands, knowing that you weren’t going to leave – that you were going to be forever to him. It made you feel lightheaded the amount of passion Cooper was exuding towards you – like you were his lifeline in this cruel world. You brought your leg up around Cooper’s hip to get him further, wanting to feel the full, covered length of him Not wanting to tease you any longer, Cooper grabbed at your baren thigh and hiked it up higher, making sure to spread your pussy enough to feel the cold breeze.

“But I need to taste you first.” He finally spoke again, making you forget his earlier sentence. The thought of Cooper’s mouth on your cunt was enough to make you cry – you needed it bad; you needed him biblically. Nodding against his lips at his words, you placed one of your hands on his shoulder, wrapping your arm around him. Cooper grabbed at the plushness of your thigh, placing it gently onto the bench to your side as he maintained eye contact. Not once in his slow descent down did he ever look away – always keeping his eyes on you, watching how you shivered with delight. His thick fingers ran down your skin like he was starving – hungry for you and only you, bringing a part of his life back he thought was long gone.

As Cooper came face to face with your wet cunt, the reservations he had about going too fast slipped away – he was like a man starved, your folds were the only thing he needed to survive. Cooper’s mouth was only mere inches away from your cunt, his hot breath fanning over your soaked lips. Wasting not a single moment more, Cooper dove into your sweet cunt like a man starved, hungrily lapping at your puffy folds. You screamed out in pure bliss at the feeling, his tongue working your clit in harsh circles, using his two longest fingers to circle your entrance, never did he attempt to push them inside of you. It was only a mere distraction for the fact that he was sucking your clit as if it was a hard candy.

The harsh clash of his lips and the slight grazing of his teeth sent you into an overdrive. So many feelings were flooding through your body, as if ice water had been tossed all over you. It was a pure feeling nonetheless, something so brilliant and rough - you didn't want to give it up. You brought your hands up to rake through Cooper’s locks, yanking harshly at the root as your nails dug into his scalp. The growl he let out into your cunt was feral, yet animalistic. In this moment you both were not humans, but two animals in the jungle, fucking like the world was going to end. “God, you taste so fucking good.”

There was nothing soft or human-like about this, it was pure primal. Cooper’s tongue lapped and flicked over your clit like water, his eyes watching yours as your face turned up in pleasure, wails of pure bliss exiting your mouth. Cooper took you by surprise when he shoved three of his long, thick digits into the cavern of your wet cunt - plowing them in and out of you with wreck less abandon. You were not moaning anymore, you were fully screaming in ecstasy over the brutal fucking you were getting. “I’m here baby, no need for tears,” Tears fell down from your eyes with ease pass of his fingers over that spongy spot - spurring your orgasm on like it was nothing. “You’re safe. Fuck, you’re so beautiful. Come on princess, you can give it to me.”

It's then that your body jolted off of the lockers with a wail of pleasure, neck tightening as you tried too hard to remain in control. “That’s my good fucking girl, you’re squeezing the shit out of me.” Cooper’s brutal pace of his fingers and tongue did not let up, not until you were screaming the safe word. Just then he got a great idea; His fingers kept moving at a rapid speed but his mouth was replaced with his other hand - using them entire pad of his palm to rub your clit quicker. He had a better use for his mouth, placing it on the apex of your thigh, and clamping his teeth harshly around the skin. Not hard enough to break it but, enough to make a welt and bruise form. It was sexy, you've never seen a man like this. “You make me insane, you know that? I am fucking mad for you.” Cooper’s grunts - the sensation of pain mixed with pleasure as your orgasm never faded, instead only growing stronger. The flex of your lower belly came in tune with the vice-like grip of your cunt, your hands twisted smacked hard against the lockers behind you, eyes rolling into the back of your head. It was then, the floodgates broke.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” You screamed out, a new sensation to your orgasm came forth, sending you into a spiral of the unknown. It felt like a bubble burst deep within you, enough to make you scream. "That’s it babydoll, just let go." Cooper huskily let out, letting his hands work in tandem with each other. The rapid movements on your clit and g-spot made you sob into the open air, your orgasm causing your entire body to be jelly-like. “That’s a good girl, you’re so perfect. You’re everything to me.” Your brain was nonexistent, all you could hear was the sloppy wet sound of your cunt being wrung out, and Cooper’s primal growls. Looking down at Cooper, you watched as the thickness of his fingers disappearing inside of your cunt, your orgasm soaking not just his hands, but his chest and stomach - eyes black as the sky above. There were so many things you wanted to say, but could not get them out - you were too far gone to speak. Cooper saw that you were twitching aimlessly, and took it as a sign to spot. Abruptly pulling his hands from your core, Cooper shoved his fingers into his mouth, sloppily sucking them clean as you watched with fervor.

You were a mess, one you knew you weren’t going to be coming back from anytime soon. It was too much – everything that you had been wanting played out, and yet still so much more needed to be said. “Coop! Why are you still here, my dude!” The young voice brought you out of your high, causing your eyes to focus back in on Cooper’s face – the front of his chest soaked with your essence. The gentle laugh emanating from the back of the firehouse made you shy away, feeling you turn in on yourself. Cooper didn’t get what was happening at first, not until the heavy bootsteps started to come towards you, making him scramble up on cracking knees. “Shit!” He let out in a whisper, the silent scream obvious as he wasted no time to grab your jacket – holding it closed on you as the footsteps haltered. “Oh hey ma-“ The young firefighter started, looking up from his phone at the same time. What he was met with, was the image of Cooper’s front pressed against you, your face heating with arousal and nerves as you buried it into Cooper’s neck, smelling a hard days work on his skin. Cooper flashed his coworker a taut smile, waving with his freehand, hoping he wouldn’t say anything. “Oh my god did you get laid?!” He yelled out, smacking the back of his phone against his hand as you erupted into a fit of laughter. You shook in Cooper’s arms as he laughed out loud as well, realizing there was no point of hiding it now. Looking up at Cooper, you watched as he slowly nodded towards his coworker, a few unruly strands of hair falling into his face.

Without missing a beat, the firefighter came over and smacked Cooper on his bare shoulders, going to his locker directly next to you and grabbing out his backpack. “Cooper, you’re my fucking hero dude!” He yelled as he ran out through the side entrance, waving off his fire chief, leaving you both alone again. The giggle fit going through the both of you made for a fun way to decompress after having the best orgasm of your life. No man had ever made you cum so hard – so precisely as well. It was like Cooper took you apart, and rebuilt you over and over; Each wave being harder than the last. Cooper took a deep breath in as he pressed his heated forehead to yours, the flush on his cheeks working its way back. “Let’s finish this at my house. Riley and Logan are staying with their mom this weekend.” You weren’t going to pass on this opportunity – especially now that you learned the names of his kids. It was a weird feeling, for both of you. Cooper never disclosed information about his kids to anyone – only those who he deemed important. He knew you were, and were going to be in his life for a while. He could already tell by the way you carried yourself  - they were going to love you as much as he could.

Nodding your head against Cooper, you pecked him gently on the lips – lingering for a moment and just focusing on the feeling. “I’m down, let me pack a bag.” The snicker Cooper omitted at your sentence made you perk up, cocking an eyebrow in his direction. Running his warm fingers over your cheeks, he grasped your chin firmly, yet soft – peering down into your eyes. “Oh sweetheart, that’s cute,” he began, biting at his bottom lip. The swirls of colors in your eyes caused his to ignite, flecks of reds and golds flitting around in his irises. His lips grazed your lips as he smirked, licking at you while he continued. “You’re not going to need anything when I am done with you.” Cooper whispered sensually, causing your cunt to pulsate. A weekend without clothes, Cooper between your thighs – was the best way to ring in the fall.

[lust4lore]

ARFARFARF so down bad for brattamer n casually dominant(by nature) kinda dark rafe n bimbo reader🤭🤭 imagine reader talkin to a random stranger in a bar or club or whateva she thinks its js a friendly interaction n shit after that rafes js there thinking 150 ways how to kill the guy for flirting wit his pretty little thing then she says it was a nice friendly convo n hes like whst???? yeah ahaha.... im obsessed pls forgive me

OH THIS GOT THE JUICES FLOWINGGG

the creative juices. get your head out of the gutter. that being said, thank you for your request! i hope i did it justice

CW: controlling!rafe, mildly dark!rafe, mmm kinda breaking my own guidelines w this one but VERY slight domestic violence? you get the point, manipulation

rafe cameron likes pretty things. so much, in fact, that he had known he was done for the second he saw you. you were cute— innocent— in a pink silk dress, ribbon in your hair and a sweet smile tugging at the corners of rosy lips. he just had to have you, and a year later, he did.

another well known fact about rafe cameron, though, is that he doesn’t share. and so, imagine his surprise when he comes back from the bathroom to see some man talking to you at the bar. he watches you for a moment, the rage settling in his veins enough to get his jaw clenching as you bat your eyelashes and giggle at whatever stupid joke that bastard just told you, pretty lips sucking at your straw as his gaze flickers down to your chest.

now that has rafe seeing red. he comes up behind you, an arm wrapping around your waist and causing you to slightly stumble back at the force of it. “hey, baby, who’s this?” he asks, fingers lightly twitching against your stomach. if you’re aware of the waves of fury radiating from him, you do nothing to show it, turning around in his hold with a naive smile and bright eyes. “rafey! this is alex, he wants to be friends,” you tell him, gesturing towards that sick perver— alex— behind you. “oh, does he?” he asks, but rafe isn’t talking to you, not really. if looks could kill, your new ‘friend’ would be further than six feet under the ground. “y’know, alex, i think my girl has enough friends already,” he squeezes your side, glancing down at you. “don’t you think, sweetheart?” the grasp he has on your waist tightens, fingers digging into your skin in a way that’ll probably bruise later.

you tilt your head, a crease forming between your brows as you lower your voice. “rafe, what- ow!” you yelp quietly as his iron grip bores into your ribs. he pays you no mind, though, still fixing alex with a chilling, eerily calm smile. “shit, man, i’m sorry, i’ll- m’gonna head out now,” the shorter boy mutters, looking intimidated as he staggers backward and rushes out the door. rafe gives a quiet chuckle at that and one of his hands grabs your wrist, yanking you closer. tears prick your eyes as he nearly cuts off the circulation in your hand, leaning in close to your face. “the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh? letting other guys flirt with you like that?”

you let out a whimper at his harsh words, a tear rolling down your pretty face. “he was jus’ being nice, i-” you whisper, and a hint of satisfaction cuts through his anger. look at you, you need him, who else’ll be there to protect you from all of those gross guys trying to get a piece of his sweet girl? he sighs, bringing a hand up to wipe the tears off of your cheeks. “c’mon, doll, you know better, did you see the way he was lookin’ at you?” you just look up at him, tears still sitting in your waterline as he presses a kiss to your trembling lips. “i didn’t mean to make you upset, a’ight? m’just trying to protect you,” he murmurs, and you instantly feel a little guilty for the way you reacted. “m’sorry, i didn’t know he was-” but rafe shushes you, stroking your cheek gently.

“s’okay, baby, you’ll remember who you belong to when we get home,”

[neonovember]

Hello, uhm, so this MAY be an uncomfortable thing to request I’m not too sure. It’s totally totally okay if it is absolutely feel free to ignore this, but the way you write Carmen is so so comforting. I have this neighbor that lives downstairs from me, I’ve lived in my apartment for two years but the past 4 months with this guy has been hell. I live in the U.K. and the people that own the building and the police don’t view my situation as anything dangerous or serious, despite the fact I have made numerous complaints and even the other neighbors in my building have complained about him. But he targets me the most and bangs on my door at ungodly hours and threatens the most horrible stuff because I’m a woman living alone. I’m honestly terrified but unless he physically does something there’s nothing I can do. I’m sorry for the sob story but usually I always try and just picture Carmy as something comforting to help through this until I can be safe, would it be okay to request something like Carmen finding out about his gf losing sleep and constantly being terrified and deciding to take matters into his own hands, and demanding she moves in with him and helps pack her stuff because he will NOT stand for that shit (again totally 100% okay if you don’t feel comfortable responding)

oh my god anon, I'm so deeply sorry that you have to deal with such a shitty situation, and the fact that you have to wait to be physically attacked before the police can do anything? Fuck the justice system and fuck law enforcement. Don't every feel scared to send a request to make your day or week or fucking month better, it's why I'm here, and the fact that my writing can make you feel even a little better is the greatest gift i could ever ask for. God I just hope you're able to remain safe, call a friend or family to keep them posted in case anything happens, I'm so very sorry honey :(

Broken bones and soup

carmen berzatto x reader

warnings: misogyny, violence, feral!carmen makes an appearence, angst, horrible neighbours, angst, teeth rotting fluff, carmy feeding you

w/c: 5.3k

a/n: this was hard to write, i really wanted to do it right by you anon, and when have i ever written carmen without him breaking someones face?

The falling sun encapsulated the cerulean sky, exploding against the horizon in heated shades of orange, crimson and pink. The trail back to your apartment complex wasn’t long, but it gave enough time to bask in the warmth of evenings bathed in sunlight. It also conveniently enabled you to tell yourself you had gotten your sun for the day, rather than having to swallow pills you hated to swallow.

It was muscle memory however, your legs moved with the familiar comfort of the sidewalk, forgetting the stomach turning realisation of what had awaited you back at your apartment. 

It had been a couple months, four maybe 5, you didn’t really want to count the days having a violent neighbour moved in directly down your apartment. The other tenants who you've grown to know collectively bristled with the annoyance of a 30 something year old filling the usual peaceful nights with crashes and yells of broken plates and incoherent obscenities. 

When you had raised the issue to the landlord and even to the police, you had been shut down with a shrug of the shoulders. 

‘We can notice him with a noise complaint, but if he aint hurting anyone we can’t do much’. 

That had made you laugh a little then, before you had been close to bawling your eyes out and ripping out your hair. Sure he was loud, your neighbours from the other side of the apartment complex could attest to that, but it was so much more than loud fucking music, and somehow, you had bared the brunt of his violence. It was targeted, you knew it, and your legs began to shuffle at the thought of coming home to another violent outbursts at your door. 

You hadn't gotten any proper sleep for the past 4 months, waking up to loud banging at your door, and declarations of brutality he whispered through your keyhole. It was all empty threats, those men in clad uniform had told you when you woke up shaking with fear as he screamed taunts of murder from below, you had run out in your pyjamas and bunny slippers and they had told you they couldn't help you. 

There were not empty threats, and this wasn’t the hundreds of true crime shows you had binged, you felt it in your bones, you were a woman living with yourself for god sake, he was going to break down your door one day and hurt you, and you couldn't do anything about it. You felt paralysed by the helplessness of it, forcing yourself to stay up past 12, the burn of your tired eyes forced open by the blue light of your phone, in case he tried breaking in. You had begun to keep a bat near your bed, a knife in the drawer of your bedside, and you felt fucking insane. Noone had made a major problem out of it, and yet you felt like he was one bad day from a murderous rampage.

Carmen could tell something had been wearing on your shoulders, the way your eyes blinked slowly, and the syrup slow movements of your limbs when you had visited the Beef not long ago. You couldn't bear to tell him, your past relationships had taught you enough not to unload all your problems onto another person, but it had gotten bad. You had started getting notices of concern from your boss, asking if you were alright, telling you how your performance had been declining.

You had quickly shut down any looks of concern thrown at you, this was something you had to deal with yourself, you didn’t want anyone, especially another woman to be faced with the brunt of his violence. You guzzled caffeine and energy drinks like it was water, and your limbs jittered with the rush of adrenaline until the peak had dropped and you felt like your stomach was ripping itself apart.

You braced yourself as you turned the corner into your apartment complex, keeping your head down, and going through the carpack to avoid the hallway that was right next to his door. You felt your stomach drop, your keys pressed between your knuckles and you flickered your eyes up to the door of his apartment. You watched it like a hawk, ready to flee at any sign of opening, and when you had finally made it to the elevator, you breathed a sigh of relief like no other. The air suddenly fills your lungs once again.

Your phone buzzed in your jean pocket, and you reached out to grab it, the screen illuminated by Carmen’s text. You felt a tingle of glee shoot through you, biting back a smile at the thought of seeing him today.

“You still coming today for the family dinner?”

The beef had begun a sort of tradition, every last Friday of the month, they would close early and hold a sort of family dinner right out back near the tables and chairs. Everyone of the crew’s family and friends were invited to join, some bringing a plate or a drink or two. It was the highlight of the month, and you hadn't missed a Friday ever since Carmen and you had become something more than close friends.

You typed out a quick reply with a tongue in your cheek, as the elevator doors opened, you didn't look up right away, walking with your head down as you tucked your phone back into your pocket. It was a fault on your end, you should have looked up, at least then you could have braced yourself as your neighbour stood stationed near your door with a cheshire smile stretching ominously across his face. 

You wondered if you could run back into the elevator, but the doors had closed well before and you feared turning your back to him was an even worse fate. You walked towards him, plastering on a smile that didn't look even a little believable.

“Something I can do for you?” You ask, your voice heightened by a mix of fear and false confidence

“Hear you've been complaining about me” The man replies with a smile, his hair slicked back, the shadow of a badly shaven skin spiking up. His shirt reeks of sweat and stains of spilt takeaway and you have to take a tentative step back to escape the stench radiating off of him.

“Yeah, you might not realise it, but you have been a bit- uh loud, and the loud banging on my walls?” You prouch him, and his eyebrows rise in surprise, shaking his head with a laugh that horrified you.

“Am I scaring you?” The man replies 

You swallow as your eyes flicker to his burnt hazel ones, they stare down from above, almost mocking in the way they forced you to answer.

“Uh, uhm- well, a lot of us got work in the morning, and I can’t wake up if you're making a lot of noise during the night”

“Oh, is that right?” The man asks, scratching a hand across his jaw

“Well no one's been the one complaining but you” The man replies

“I don't think so many of us-”

“You saying I’m a liar??” The man suddenly shouts, and you can help yourself stepping back a distance quickly

The man watches the way you distance yourself away from him, his eyes flicker to the keys poking out from between your fingers and he bites back a laugh.

“So you are scared of me, liar.” The man spits out with venom, before stepping towards you, caging you to the wall as he whispers near your ear

“You think fucking keys are going to stop me? A little lady like you living here all by yourself?” The man digs his fingers into your sides, until you howl out and retch yourself away from him, you reach for your right side, holding the skin above your rib cage that had begun to swell and bruise.

“See how easy that was? A fucking pretzel in my hand” The man calls out with a smile, before walking back around the hallway corner with such ease and comfort that told you he knew the police wouldnt do shit.

Your hand shakes as you shove your key into your door, you have to hold your own hand to put it in, before shouldering your way through your door with wince, and dropping your bag and belongings to the floor.

You rush into your bathroom, undressing before your eyes flicker to your mirror, seeing the red rash of irritation and the start of a purple imprint of his claws shoved into the skin below your ribcage. You wince as you try to soothe it, the salty tears breaking down your waterline, you can't stop, the wretched sobs of your helplessness echoing off the bathroom walls.

You climb into the shower, sliding down to the bottom as the tears shake through you, you hug your knees to your chest, letting the warm water combine with your salty tears, so they become one, and you know longer now how terrified you are. You stay in the shower like this for a bit, letting the warmth and steam wiggle your body from its stone encapsulation.

You can hear the familiar jingle of your phone ringing from where you had haphazardly left it, and the memory of today's dinner comes rushing in. You had nearly forgotten, and whilst you were terrified to leave your home and go back into the hallway where it had happened, you couldn't let Carmen down.

So you had gotten up, in the same way you had fallen down, and tried to scrub away the smell of his day-old cigarettes and sweat until your skin burned, poking your head through a clean shirt and a skirt that hid the painful purple splotch that had begun to spread across your side.

Entering your quaint kitchen, you can’t stop your arm as it reaches for the brown liquid stored in that old glass bottle Sugar had told you was a century old. You didn't have a little liquid courage to make it past your goddamn threshold.

You downed it in a gulp, reaching for your bag and a pocket knife, just in case. The reality of that decision broke you a little, when did you start needing to armour yourself?

Your phone buzzed from its position edged between the living room couch, it was Carmen, again, telling you he was outside. Carmen had begun to ceremoniously show up to your apartment as the autumn had begun to bleed into the winter nights, and the sunlight had stretched until darkness hit by 5 in the afternoon. Any other time you would have chastised him till the point where he would stop, but now, with the reality of your neighbour, you felt a relief wash through your body at the thought of being close to him. You also don’t doubt he would have shown up anyway, ignoring your requests in the way he does when he thinks it's his responsibility.

You wouldnt say you had a lot of experience in relationships under your belt, but something spoke to you from within, carmen was something special, this was special, sacred in the way destiny was, and you shooke with the relentless fear of fucking it up. And scaring him away with your problems seemed to be on the very top of that list

You shake the thought from your head as you shut the door quietly, take a brisk pace as you walk but kind of run to the elevator. A neighbour you knew well stood near the doors, his dark auburn hair falling in front of his eyes, he nodded to you with a silent smile. He kept to himself most of the time, and you didn't know much about him, just that he always was tugging a sleeve down his left arm, but he always went out of his way to give you some sort of greeting.

The air between you was silent, as you were waiting for the ping of the elevator to drop to your door, and you heard a shuffling near you, your eyes watching the way he coughed and stared at you from the corner of your peripheral vision.

“Heard something out in the hallway, it wasn’t him again was it?” The man replied, concerned about lacing his features as his eyes seemed to be fixated on the way you leaned on one side of your body a little.

“Uh no, it’s- it’s alright, I guess it was my dues you know? Dealing with a shitty neighbour at least once” You reply with a tight smile, trying to poke fun at the very depressing thought.

The man nodded with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, your neighbours had known that he was loud, knew that you had dealt the worst of it being right above him, but they were clueless to his taunts and threats that he said into your door at night. You think the man next to you had an idea though, the way his eyes scanned anything like he was always assessing, always calculating the world around him. 

It was also because your neighbour was nowhere to be found whenever he was around, you whispered a prayer of thanks that he was taking the elevator down with you, with his sweatpants and top, it was like he knew, a silent nod of protection.

Before you could open your mouth to whisper a thanks, the doors of the elevator had opened, a tired mom and her two energetic kids passed between you both. It was funny, you could see yourself in her, the drag of dark circles and the hunch of her shoulders mirroring your own. 

You knew the very shakily painted on makeup did little to hide the exhaustion on your face and you rushed to enter the elevator to escape the thought. The motion of the elevator moving down nauseated you a little, churning your stomach in the way it always did with motion, but your apartment wasn’t big and soon enough the music of the elevator turned to a halt as the doors opened up to the ground floor.

You could see the headlights of Carmen's car through the automatic doors of your complex, and you gave your neighbour a smile before rushing to jump into the comfort of Carmen and his very, very warm car.

-- -

The car ride to the beef has been silent, just the syrupy beat of jazz from the car speakers and the burn of Carmen’s gaze searing a hole through you, you feared if you caught his eyes and the look in them the entire interaction today would tumble from your tongue.

You couldn’t ruin today, it was tradition, you had just begun to become folded into it. The joy of Tina calling your name for a hug, the talks about the new pastry ideas with Marcus, Sydney’s laughter, it soothes you like a balm, and you were sure the nausea crawling through your stomach would dissipate the second you entered.

But it didn’t, the beautiful lantern lights from outside the Beef glittered against the Chicago moonlight and the smell of Italian meatballs engulfed your senses and you still felt like you were being ripped apart from the inside.

You had said your hellos to everyone, biting back a yelp as Tina’s hand pressed against the bruise on your side, and nodding to Richie’s rambles whilst you felt outside of your own skin.

Your mind kept replaying the scene of him lunging st you, bristling your skin till goosebumps spread through, until your mind was exhausted from fear and well, fucking exhaustion and Carmen had to call your name too many times to rip you from your thoughts.

“Hey, you alright?” Carmen asks with that soft honey tone he keeps for you.

You nod with a smile, and Carmen’s eyes shift towards your plate untouched. It was your favourite, a twist on Osso Buco and yet it laid un moving, Carmen knew it, you did too, and you held back tears as Carmen simply nodded, not sure if he was overstepping his boundaries.

It was the first lick of the start of something, the both of you, the bloom of a companionship Carmen felt was destined, like it was seared into the sand years before you both had even come into existence. And Carmen was new to this, and that opened up a whole can of worms, he didn’t want to fuck it up, he didn’t want to think about fucking it up, but god did he always seem to fuck it up.

You reached across the table to grab the jar of water, your shirt riding up without you noticing. Tina’s eyes widen at the peek of a purple imprint from under your shirt and she has nearly drops her fucking fork

“Baby? What happened to your side?” Tina replies with concern, her voice is quiet but the tables loud boisterous conversations begin to slow down.

You tug your shirt down, and you burn with guilt like you had been caught with this big secret. Carmen immediately looks towards your side, his eyes scanning the way you since a little as your finger brushes against it.

“Nothing, uh um I fell” You don't even believe yourself

“That looks more than something you get tripping over your feet darling, did something happen?”

“What? What’s she saying honey? What did you see Tina?” Tina’s gaze flutters to Carmen, and there’s a pause like she’s assessing whether it was Carmen’s doing before the reality of who he is hits her. It was ingrained in every woman, and Carmen wouldn’t be an exception. Even for a second.

“Looks like someone’s goddam fist imprinted into her skin” 

The restaurant is completely quiet now, and your head falls to your uneaten plate of veal, they look towards you in concern hearing the end of Tina’s words.

Carmen lifts your shirt, and you don’t stop him, the reality of your attack is shown right there in front of him, the imprint of a large hand bruising purple and blue.

Carmen’s eyes burn into the skin, his fists shaking as he remains silent, the rest of the family look on in horror, whispers of “holy fuck?” and eyes seeing the way Carmen practically vibrates, like he’s a second away from exploding.

“..Who did this?”

“It was my fault- I”

“Who did this baby? Who hurt you?” Carmen replies with an exhaled murmur.

“I’m, uh, Uhm- he- oh Carmen” You can’t get the words out, they’re stuck in your throat and you can’t get them out. You feel trapped, your body is sweating like you’re caged, like you're wading through a current and you're losing yourself to the weight of it, your breakdown on display for the whole world to see.

You blink back tears as Carmen tilts your chin to face him, and the look on his face, the look of distraught and fear that blossoms across his features un tetheres the tightly wrapped self control you had formed.

And Carmen scoops you up into his arms so that the entire family doesn’t have to see you break into his shoulder.

His soothing words are like a balm to your distress and he walks you, bridal style to the first aid cabinet, sitting you down on the counter, wiping away your tears as his fingers shake and his throat bobs with a tight swallow. He hastily tugs your shirt, kissing back the howls of pain as he whispers “I know, I know baby girl, I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry.”

His soft fingers press gently against the bruise as he rubs a heating ointment across it, he wraps a warm compress around it as bandage and his eyes are avoiding your own as he focuses his fingers on your skin.

“Carmen?” You whisper, the hiccups of tears resounding from your throat, Carmen reaches for a painkiller, placing it in your palm with a whisper of affirmation, he gently tips your head back as he pours water into your mouth, and you swallow it quickly, before looking back at him.

“Carmen? Please” You reply, had you done it, had you ruined everything?

“I can’t look at you because I fear I might break, and- and I can’t right now okay darling? I have to find, I have to find who did this, and I need to make it right, hm? I need to make sure your safe because god my heart is outside of my chest and I can’t feel anything but fear” Carmen replies with a tight low voice, his fists shake as he pressed them into the counter beside your thighs, but he looks up to meet your gaze anyway, and he smiles tightly as the tears stream down.

“Oh Carmen, this isn't on you, you couldn't have possibly known” You reply, wiping a hand across his cheeks.

“How can you say that? I am your, I am meant to protect you, and you, you come limping in without me noticing, fucking Tina saw it before I could, and i hate myself for it” Carmen replies, his cerulean blues shining bright against the shine of tears.

“Who did this, someone at work? A guy on the street?” Carmen replies and you flick away from his gaze, hand falling to your lap as your tongue burns with the desire to just say it all.

“You've got to tell me baby girl, you have to know I've got to make it right, I won’t sleep till I do. '' Carmen replies with a pained cry, like his heart is breaking from the thought of letting this go un avenged. And it's the tortured look on his face, it's the shake of his limbs like he wants to destroy and burn the entire world around him till he finds whoever has done this that uncurls your tongue and lets everything out in the open.

“What? This has been going on for months? Why didn’t you tell me?” Carmen replies, his thumb rubbing soft circles across your thigh.

“Didn’t want to scare you away Carmen, i love-i I like you a lot, more than I have anyone and I didn't want to fuck it up and unload all my problems onto you like a dumpster” You reply, and it sounds stupid when you say it out loud, and when Carmen looks up at you in disbelieved confusion.

“Huh? Oh sweet girl, I’m meant to help you bear it all, that’s why I'm here, and the idea of you thinking I'll love you any less, that I won't help you because of something like this haunts me. I’m meant to protect you yeah? That’s my fucking job, and I’ve failed it” Carmen replies with a grunt.

“No one has said anything like that to me” You say, eyes looking up to him, you weren't shocked, but you weren't, were not shocked, never had you experienced this, this burning adoration for another person, this soft warmth that burst through you at the sound of Carmen's voice promising his devotion, promising his unyielding protection. It armoured you more than a pocket knife ever could.

Carmen presses a soft kiss to your head, before shuffling around the kitchen, walking back into the dining tables, hushing out replies of ‘she's okay’ before coming back in with your things under his arm.

“What are you doing?” You reply in question, as he slowly picks you up with an arm, and gently places you back down. His eyes are constantly flickering to your side, like he’s torturing himself with the image of the first time he saw the horrific bruise across your side.

He had never felt true fear until then, the shatter of his heart beneath his breast as he realises you had gotten hurt and he didn't even fucking realise. Nothing had mattered but your safety and he scared himself with how much his body shook with a desire to destroy the person responsible.

“I’m driving back to your apartment, where you're going to grab your necessities, whilst I pay a visit to your little neighbour downstairs. You’re staying with me, for however long,” Carmen replies with a sneer, walking you through the back door, which you were all too thankful for, you couldn't bear to see the look on the crew’s faces if you had to walk back in.

“Carmen you can’t” You reply rushed, as Carmen slid you into the passenger seat, before clicking on your seat belt for you. He cocks his head, before raising his eyebrows

“Oh, I can’t? Honey, the police don’t do their job and my baby get’s fucking hurt. Nah, that doesn't work for me” Carmen replies, before rushing to enter the driver's seat, shifting the gear into drive before speeding down the city streets. 

His focused on the road, his face unblinking and he grips the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white, you can’t stop looking at him, his gorgeous under the moonlight of the skies, his cheeks crimson from his tears, his cerulean blues calling to you like the sea, and the curl of his blonde hair falling like waves.

The view of your apartment complex comes into your vision as Carmen turns into the carpark in one swift move, you can’t stop the shake of your fingers and Carmen wants to slam his first into the steering wheel when he notices.

“You alright?” Carmen replies “You can stay here, I’ll grab whatever you need”

You want to stay, want to remain in the safety of his sleek tinted windows, but you want to face it too, and somehow that need is more important, he doesn’t get to win, no fucking way.

You unclip your seat belt, opening the door as you turn to him “You going to show me how you protect me or what?”

Carmen bites back a smile, god he was so fucking proud. He could tell you were scared shit less, and yet you fought through that fear, and god you mesmerised him. You were stronger than he could ever be, and he wanted to take that burden from you, carry it himself so you didn't have to.

Carmen jogs to the back of the car, reaching into the boot before the clunk of wood on gravel meets your ears. Carmen nods towards you, as he grips a bat under his arm

“He puts a bruise on you and i break all his fucking bones” Carmen replies, and you can’t stop the joy that image brings you

Carmen walks you to your apartment, waiting outside like a hawk, his bat tight against his grip as he watches the hallways, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, you feel infinitly and utterly safe.

You throw your toiletries into a bag, grabbing a few nights of clothes and your work shoes. You eyes flicker around your apartment, it had been home to you for the past 4 years, and yet it felt so foreign to you now, you had grown to attest this place, this place you had filled with so much of yourself, and you hate him so much at that moment, for making you feel this way about a place you had once loved.

You leave your apartment with the door shut closed.

Carmen carries your bag and places them back into the back seat of the car, and as he begins to walk towards the apartment of your neighbour you reach a hand out to stop him.

“Honey, I’ve got to-” Carmen begins before you shut him quickly

“I want to watch” You reply quietly, and Carmen’s eyes flicker, before lacing his fingers into yours, as you both knock on his door.

There's a grumble before the clank of a chain slides open, and his face appears as the door opens to him, you can see the illuminated light of his TV glaring, the floor covered with pizza boxes and beer cans. You see in real time, how his face morphs from anger into fear, his eyes dropping as he sees the way Carmen practically shakes, and the man isn’t able to let out a word, a protest or wail of a plea before the crack of Carmen's wooden bat swings through the air.

-- -

“Are you sure he isn't dead?” You reply, as you dip a washcloth into warm water, wiping away the blood across Carmen’s neck

“He isn’t going to die if I wasn’t the one causing it, besides, if he does, that’s God finishing off the rest of it”. Carmen replies, raising his face so that you cleaned the last of the streaks of blood splattered across his jaw.

Carmen reaches for your hands, pressing a kiss to the top of them as he looks at you in that way like he yearns for you to be closer. 

“You need sleep, but first you need to eat, yeah?” Carmen replies, shushing your protests and he carries you to his room in his arms, after he notices the exhaustion in your limbs. It’s dark, illuminated only by the wall to ceiling windows that look into the busy city streets and light up sky scrapers. 

The sheets are strewn across the bed, haphazard like Carmen had rushed to get them off of him in the early mornings. Carmen slides you into them, tucking you within the soft pillowy blanket, sitting on the edge as he caresses your cheek softly.

He leaves for a moment, rushing to make you something to eat, his skin crawling with a need to feel you against him, nearly tripping over himself as he walks back into his room with a bowl of soup and a bottle of water.

Carmen sits next to you again, pressing spoonfuls of soup into your mouth and wiping the edges ceremoniously as you rest against the headboard half asleep. 

You don’t notice the way he looks at you, like he's trying to memorise every dip and curve of your face, his fingers clutching the spoon tight like he’s going to break if he doesn't hold you against him.

“Honey?” Carmen replies hushed

“Hmh?” You reply, your eyes heavy as the comfort of Carmen's warmth spreads through you.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again, you tell me everything okay? Everything” Carmen replies pained, like the events that transpired somehow still were not resolved, like breaking the man's legs wasn't enough for him.

“Okay” You reply, and Carmen places the dishes onto the bedside table, leaving it to the morning because he can't keep you away from him any longer.

Carmen joins you in the bed, the left side of his bed finally taken by somebody for the first time in a long time. Tugging you against him, Carmen curls your body to lay against his chest, his fingers softly gracing your back, soft circles that had begun to lull you to a sleep you hadn’t felt in months, years even.

The beat of Carmen's heart joins with yours, together and entwined like how it was always meant to be, why had Carmen waited so long? Why had he let time pass without you tucked under him, safe within his arms and away from all the horrors of the world.

It’s only when Carmen notices the shift in your breathing, falling into a soft exhale before he even lets the whispers of sleep grip him within its grasps, his shoulders finally release from its tensed state once he knows you've finally fallen into a sleep that had been kept from you.

“You don’t know how much I love you baby girl, it fucking scares me, but I’ll keep reminding you until infinity if I have to, until you know it deep down like I do” Carmen mumbles out, his eyes falling heavy and you grips you against his chest.

You don’t really know how, but even between the state of sleep and consciousness, you hear him, and you whisper between the space in your bodies, that you already do.

[beenbaanbuun]

chevrolet w/ mechanic!Jongho

words - 3.1 k (i’m planning a part 2)

genre - smut

warnings - smoking, bff!yunho, pining, dom!jongho, sub!reader, begging, boot riding, light clit play, nicknames, light degradation, insecurity, making out, kneeling (i’m a slut for kneeling…) and i think that’s it

——————————————————————————

By the door to the garage stands a tall man with a cigarette between his lips. Handsome is too light of a descriptor for this man. Sure, it was accurate, but it does him no justice. Because not only is he hot as fuck, but he is also huge. Wide shoulders lead to thick arms that carry strong, veiny hands and long, lithe fingers. His honey skin is completely clear except for a single mole on his neck that serves to remind you that he is an actual human and not just a daydream that you’ve thought up within your romance-deprived mind.

You sigh loudly as you drop your head into your palm, elbow resting on your knee as you sit cross-legged on the hood of one of Yunho’s cars. No doubt he was silently seething about you using his precious 1967 Chevy Impala as nothing more than somewhere to perch, but he’d learned a long time ago that scolding you for it is futile. Besides, where else was going to give you such a perfect view of Jongho?

“Stop staring at him,” Yunho grumbles to you, breaking out of your trance as he pushes a tyre past you, “you’re being weird.”

You watch him as he leans it against the body of one of his customers’ cars before bobbing down to take a closer look at the wheel of the car. If you were listening to him just a few moments prior, you’d know exactly what was wrong with the car. It's just that as Yunho was monologuing about the wheel rims, Jongho was also unzipping his overalls and pulling them free from his top half. How could you focus on anything else when the man of your dreams was practically undressing himself in front of you?

“I’m not being weird,” you say as you go back to watching Jongho just in time to see him flick the ash away from the tip of the cigarette. The sleeve of his black t-shirt constricts around his bicep as he lifts the almost burnt-out cig back to his lips to take another puff. You swallow down a wad of drool that had gathered upon your tongue. It's a shame you can’t so easily get rid of the moisture that had gathered uncomfortably between your thighs.

“You know, just because you do something every day, it doesn't mean it isn't weird?” He sends a sarcastic smile in your direction, but you miss it, too focused on the way Jongho’s lips purse to exhale a plume of white smoke into the air. You lick your lips just as he takes one final drag and you feel your heart skip a beat as he tosses the butt to the floor and stomps it out with one giant combat boot. Oh, to be that cigarette, you think to yourself before shaking yourself out of your dizzy stupor.

Your eyes flicker away from him as he pushes himself away from the garage door frame and turns to walk back inside. The thud of his heavy boots against the concrete floor is enough to send shivers down your spine because even though you’re not watching him, you can hear him growing closer to you. Slow, careful footsteps grow louder and louder as his soles thud against the floor. Over and over they ring through your head like a metronome until at last they come to a stop right in front of the Chevy.

Carefully, you lift your gaze, letting it scan every inch of him until you reach his face. Thick thighs hidden by his tight denim overalls that you’d just love to rip open and see what's underneath. You bet they're soft; perfect to dig your teeth into as you sit between them. Stomach that you just know is toned to the point where it looks like it's been sculpted by Michaelangelo himself. Arms folded over his chest, muscular and ready to slip around your throat and choke you until you're gasping for breath. Jaw set in stone as he stares down at you with a steely gaze and a taunting smirk playing on his lips.

You suck in a sharp breath as he looks you up and down, eyes lingering on your cleavage for just a moment or two before making their way up to your face. Behind the initial iciness you see in them, there's something else. A hint of playfulness, perhaps, although it looks a little more sinister. You shudder underneath it, pulling your eyes from his to study your fingers instead.

“Hey, Yun?” He calls out to the other man, yet never once takes his eyes off of you. All pretty, sitting there in those jersey shorts that sit flush against the bulge of your pretty thighs, and that low-cut top that shows too much for him not to sneak a glance every once in a while. The way your nipples peek through the thin material lets him know that you forewent a bra when you were getting dressed this morning. They pebble up as the cool afternoon brushes against them. Jongho can barely pull his eyes away from them.

“What?” Yunho grunts as he uses a cloth to wipe a grease stain from the chrome spokes of the wheel he was messing with.

“Do you want to take the afternoon off?” You don't need to look at Yunho to see his excitement at the suggestion. The clattering of metal tools against the cement was enough for you to understand that yes, Yunho definitely wants to take the afternoon off. “I’ll finish up here and take the Princess home when I’m done. I’m sure she can be patient and sit on her little throne until I’m finished, can't you?”

No. You absolutely cannot be alone in a room with Jongho. It takes a lot for you to be in a room with him when Yunho is there too. Being with him alone would break your sanity in two. Absolutely not.

“I can walk,” you say, voice wavering so much it's practically a whimper. God, you sound pathetic.

“Don’t be silly,” Jongho purrs, from where he stands above you, “I'm sure I speak for both of us when I say it’ll make us feel better if one of us sees you get home safe.”

“Then Yuyu can take me,” you spit out a little too quickly. Yunho lets out a snicker, and if Jongho’s imposing form wasn't blocking you from his view, you'd shoot him a middle finger in payment.

“I was going to visit Mingi,” his boyfriend that he insists isn't actually his boyfriend, “and his cafe is in the opposite direction to your house...”

Despite him not saying the word, you know it's a no. Whether he just wants to see you suffer as you try and keep your desperation for Jongho under lock whilst you're alone together is an entirely different question; you wouldn’t be surprised if that really was the case. He seems to find the way you squirm whenever the other man is near amusing.

“I’ll take care of you, Princess,” a finger gently brushes against your chin, tilting your head up until you lock eyes with Jongho’s once more. His tongue darts out to wet his lips - those plush pink lips - before disappearing once more, leaving nothing but a trail of spit in its wake. That pool between your legs only grows, “I’ll treat you even better than Yuyu does.”

You hear the condescending use of the nickname you have for Yunho; it goes hand in hand with the way he slurs the word, Princess. All of it makes you feel tiny beneath him and you just know that you won't make it out of this garage alive.

“So I’m good to go, yeah?” Jongho calls out a reply that you hardly register, and before you know it, Yunho is hopping into his regular car and driving off into the distance. The rumbling of his engine covers the sound of blood rushing through your ears until it doesn't. Until everything is silent and it's just you and him.

Jongho.

The man you’d been thirsting after from the very moment you spotted him. Always avoiding talking with him in favour of watching him. The way he smiles as he talks with Yunho, or furrows his brow when he’s studying an engine. The way he bites his lip as he lifts heavy metal pieces into his arms and sighs long and hard whenever he gets to put them down. The way he laughs whenever he’s told a joke and frowns when he’s made a mistake. Watching all that has just added to your fixation on him.

And now you are alone together.

You're alone with him. Alone and you don't know how to act. Yunho has always been a buffer to lead the conversation but now he isn't there and your mind has just gone blank. You hope Jongho says something first since you can't think of anything to say, but you also hope he doesn't say anything at all. What would you even reply? Something completely idiotic, more than likely. Something that makes you look like an absolute fool in front of the man you’d been silently wishing would pay you even a modicum of attention for the past year.

Well, his attention is finally on you so you need to be perfect. Desirable, but not to the point where you seem desperate. Intelligent, but not to the point where you seem like a smart-ass. Agreeable, but not to the point of being a pushover. You just need to be perfect.

How the fuck do you be perfect?

Jongho finally slips his finger away from your chin, but you darent look away. Are you supposed to? Is that what he wants? Oh god, what if he thinks you’re being weird by holding eye contact for so long?

“You can relax, Princess,” he chuckles, eyes crinkling up at the corners as he smiles. So pretty, you think. “Untense those shoulders and take a deep breath for me, hm? Can't have you feeling overwhelmed before we even start, now can we?

You do as he asks, for him.

Your shoulders drop a few inches and your chest rises and falls dramatically.

Relax… for him.

“That's a good girl,” he utters, voice low and breathy in a way that goes straight to your pussy. “Sit tight while I go and lock up, okay?”

You nod blindly before your brain kicks in just a second later. Lock up? You thought Jongho was supposed to be driving you home, yet his car sits on the far side of the garage, very much inside. If he locks up then…

“I thought you were going to drive me back to mine?” you finally say as Jongho pushes the door shut and locks it with a key he slips from his pocket. You hear the lock click and as soon as it does, he is on his way back to you, heavy boots thudding against the floor. They remind you of a clock, this time, counting down the seconds as he stalks closer to you; the seconds until you reach your demise.

“I mean if you want me to, I will,” he shrugs as he passes the car Yunho had been working on, “but I was hoping you’d want me to do… other things for you.”

Tick tock, tick tock.

His feet taunt you as he takes the longer route to get to you. They drag out your torture, the stickiness of your pussy growing as your thoughts seem to race through your brain at a speed too fast for you to comprehend. Thoughts about what you should be doing to appear perfect simply come and go, much too fast for you to dwell on them. You don't have the brain power to try and slow them down, so you just sit there dumbly as Jongho finally comes to a stop in front of you.

His footsteps come to a stop, the clock that counts down to your doom falling silent.

“I mean, you spend all that time staring at me and you think I don't notice, but I do,” he lays his hands down on the hood, pressing his weight down onto them as he leans over you. Your eyes go wide as his face comes to rest mere inches from your own, hot breath fanning over your face. From this distance you can smell the cigarette smoke that permeates his clothes, mixing deliciously with the gasoline and car oil that swims through the air of the garage. It's intoxicating. “I saw the way you stared at me during my cig break; eyes all glossed over as you sat and fidgeted and pretended that you weren't already dripping for me. God, I bet it's like a fucking ocean down there, Princess, all slick and ready for me.”

With two fingers, he walks his hand closer to you until it catches on your knee. You break eye contact to stare it at as it slithers its way up your thigh, rising higher and higher until his fingers catch on the seam of your shorts. He hums your name to bring your attention back to him. You obey.

“Can I?” he whispers as he pushes his face even closer. His lips are millimetres from your own; you’d barely have to move to take a kiss from him, “Or do you still want me to drive you home?”

You do it.

You close the gap.

All caution flies out of the window as you dive right in, pressing your lips hard against his own. No more thoughts of whether or not you’re perfect enough as you take what you want from him. He tastes of mint and smoke and it makes you dizzy. He kisses you back almost immediately, lips sloppily dancing over yours as if he’s just as desperate for you as you are for him. You moan into his mouth. He reciprocates it with one of his own, and the sound is just as beautiful as you imagined. Soft and musical and just as pretty as he is. It just makes you dive in deeper, arms swinging up until they're wrapped around his neck to hold him close. He takes that as a green light and dips his fingers into your shorts.

They travel up the inner seam, heading straight to your aching pussy. You’re sure he can already feel just how wet you are, just from feeling your inner thighs. When he smiles against your lips, you know you're right. They linger there for a few seconds, playing with the stickiness for just a moment or two before continuing their journey to the apex of your thighs.

When they reach it, Jongho stills his movements for just a moment or two. His lips pull away from yours so he can let out a soft chuckle. “No panties and no bra?” He tilts a brow as he flicks a finger against your clit, drawing another sound from your lips. “I didn't realise I was dealing such a slut,” he growls as he lunges forward to attack your lips once more. His tongue immediately darts out to brush against your lips and demand entry. You give it to him, bottom jaw going slack as you let him lick into your mouth.

His finger begins to tap at your clit with the same metronomic pace as his footsteps from earlier. Each hit sends a shiver down your spine as a jolt of pleasure lurches through you. But it's not enough, and as soon as it's there, it's gone again. It's torturous in the best way possible, and it leaves you wanting more.

“More,” you whine as you pull away for breath, “Jongho, I want more.”

“More?” he teases, stopping his finger in place against your clit, “you’re a greedy little thing, aren't you?” He slips his fingers completely free from your shorts and takes a step back from the car. “How about you get on your knees and beg? If you prove that you can be the good little slut I know you are, I’ll give you whatever you want.”

It's a deal too good to pass up, so as quickly as you can you slide off the bonnet and drop to your knees. The bare concrete scuffs your skin, but you barely give a wince, too lost in the lust that clouds your brain that you don't even register the pain. It's a small price to pay to get what you want, anyway.

“Hands behind your back,” he says as he stares you down. You do as he says within mere milliseconds. It makes him smile to see you obey so quickly, “legs spread, too.”

Again, you do it, shuffling your knees against the concrete until they sit shoulder-width. You're sure there's a wet patch on the material, but you don't blush. In fact, you're rather happy to show him just how much of an effect he has on you. It only feels right after pining over him for a year; he deserves to know just how much you need him.

He studies your form, his annoyingly cocky gaze brushing up and down your body like he has all the time in the world; like you're not at his feet desperately wanting more. He huffs out a breath before using one of his boots to kick your knees even wider, spreading your thighs until they ache due to the stretch. You whine up at him, only getting a sly smile in response. “What?” he coos, “I told you to spread your legs, didn’t I?”

And you suppose he's right; he did ask you to spread your legs. You just didn't know that meant for you to spread them until you couldn't anymore. Until you could feel the chill of the room brush against your wet thighs, the gusset of your shorts barely covering your pussy, never mind anything else. You shiver at a particularly cold draught, and Jongho laughs.

And then something colder hits your core. Icy and hard, just like the steel toe cap of a boot. You glance down to make sure you're not going insane; the big black tip of Jongho’s shoe pressing up against your clothes pussy is enough evidence that you're not. You swallow hard as he moves it back and forth against your slit, dragging the inner seam of your shorts against you. You inhale a shuddery breath as your gaze travels back up to his face.

His stupidly handsome face.

“You like that?” you nod, “then be a good girl. Do what I told you to, and I’ll let you cum on my boot. Beg, Princess.”

[prettyboykatsuki]

wyll whos nice and kind down to his bones but develops a nasty jealousy streak….tugs you back behind some secluded corner of camp to kiss you something fierce when he catches how others at camp look upon you…starts smoking a cigarette

steadily yours | w. ravengard

✮ tags ; jealousy, established relationship, gn!reader, kissing / hickies, alcohol, silly and lovesick wyll

✮ wc ; 2k

✮ a/n ; ive thought about this ask for a week straight. its getting dire.

some minor spoilers for wylls romance like extremely minor and vauge!!! i am only just entering act three so pls dont spoil me but this take place vaugely post game lololol

The Blade of Frontiers is a good man.

This isn't a title he's given himself, but one bestowed upon him. Through tales and songs all across the city and uttered from the very lips of his lover - Wyll Ravengard has always strived to be a good man.

He can't assert this by any measure, but he knows best his own effort. For the sake of the city, for the sake of his people, for the sake of love. He wants very little to himself, and he fights with every ounce of him. His heart is in the city, but his soul is with you. Between these two places, there's no amount of sacrifice or burden he isn't willing to bear.

Part of being a good man is being the master of your own desires. What other men do is none of Wyll's concern, but he's always been adamant about keeping firmly on the straight path. Wyll wants love properly, much like how he wishes the world around him would follow.

Properly, with order and justice and care. That's how Wyll has lived his whole life.

And he's believed of himself that loving that way came easier upon him than it did others, though that was nothing he felt like bragging about. It never felt difficult to abstain from the ugliness of anger or jealousy.

That was before you. And this is after, this is post having your meeting. Wyll has had a relationship or two. Puppy crushes that fizzled off as soon as Wyll's responsibility began to overwhelming. Like, less than love, really. This time it is love, and love is incomparable to any sensation in the world. Not the cut of a blade against his skin, nor the warmth of a sunset. No mortal feeling could really measure to love.

In the aftermath of loving you, Wyll supposes, there is an ugliness within himself that he never really knew about. But maybe it's only normal. What else could there be after he's encountered the most beautiful thing the world has to offer, beyond even gods?

There are three things on Wyll's mind, lately. One, that he loves you more than he thought possible. Two, that he's relieved about the state of affairs. And three, he's very tired of feeling this way.

Not that he's tired of loving you. Things just aren't so busy anymore, and that means there's always people around. The people of the gate love you, and you're more hospitable than you let on. The camp is busy, rife with life every single evening and everyone is always so keen on meeting you.

You're busy, rightly - laughing and drinking. Though you're not much for talking, you do your duties as a host and tell stories when prompted. You seem to enjoy yourself in the well-earned reprieve and you've really do deserve very bit of that love and attention that's come your way.

So, Wyll knows feeling this way is ugly. The jealousy is ugly, and Wyll's not entirely lacking self-awareness about it. Though before he could chalk it up to other things, lately it's impossible. He knows that the Outlanders who come seeking your company have no idea you're engaged - and that they're simply men who desire you for the name you've earned.

A warrior, a hero, a myth - Wyll does not blame them for their curiosity.

But he feels pitiful to be so stirred up about it anyways.

He drinks tonight, though the carafe of wine is mostly full. The others speak amongst themselves. Astarion drifts by him, stands and sways in motion in the cool night air with a smug look on his face that Wyll is too dazed to catch.

Astarion speaks first. The sound is muffled first, impossible to make out in his own mind before a pale hand waves in front of his face.

"You know I'll have to thank your darling later for allowing me to see such a rare sight," Astarion drawls. He's sober, though there's wine in his hand all the same "The Blade of Frontiers, seething with jealousy. A marvel."

"I wouldn't call it seething," Wyll replies, still only half paying attention. His eyes are glued to you. He can't bring himself to look away.

Astarion laughs, a little pity in his voice , though Wyll can't really make out if it's sincere or not.

"But you'll admit you're jealous? My, Ravengard, you've changed." Astarion says. Wyll doesn't bother asking what he means, since it's true in any case "Forgive those poor Outlanders. It's hard enough watching them pine for one half the lovesick couple as is."

Wyll sighs.

"It's fine," Wyll says, though even he can hear how much he doesn't really mean it "It's not like they would know. I suppose many people wear decorative rings these days."

"Gods, this is funny. Just listen to you, I mean really. What a delight. I have half a mind to call the rest over just to witness it in person. Unfortunately I'm not so charitable," Astarion says back to him holding in a laugh "Whatever will you do, Ravengard? Maybe you could kick up a fuss, or pick a fight. People brawl at these things don't they? Oh what a sight that'd be indeed."

Wyll ignores him, but he does heed the advice. He would like to do something about it, though there won't be any brawl. He steels himself, passes an empty cup off to Astarion who makes a shrill laugh as Wyll starts walking himself over the fire.

When he arrives there, the conversation has come to more of a relaxed lull. You notice him even engrossed in conversation, flashing him a smile so beautiful he feels a little blinded.

He gives you one in return, disarmed. The outlander who's been trying to win your attention all night goes to address you again and Wyll is quick to interject.

"Ah, sorry - would you all mind if I borrowed them for a minute?"

You give Wyll a look of surprise, your eyes crystal clear. He feels guilty almost instantly, but continues anyway.

"Is something the matter?" You ask, your voice softened. You've been drinking, from the way your words melt together.

"Nothing serious, just something I wanted to talk to you about in private. That alright? Promise I'll return them before the night is over."

"As long as you promise," Says the very same one Wyll's been trying to tear you away from all evening. You laugh heartily before standing to your feet. You're beaming at him, brilliant - and Wyll goes back to his usual pleasant self as he gives his goodbyes.

He says something about promising before he whisks you off, faithfully ignoring the knowing looks of party.

And he takes you to a quiet corner of the camp, a short trail bridging between the main plot of land. There's some sturdy scenery, and rocks large enough to shield you from the outside and give you privacy.

He's cornering you a bit, admittedly - but you seem happy to see him. As soon as you're alone, you have your arms around his neck. There's a delightful air of excitement around you and Wyll finds himself filling with all the fondness in the world.

The faint sour-sweet of wine lingers off of your lips. Wyll looks at you closely, studies your expression.

"Sorry, sorry," You apologize, suddenly more comfortable. A side of yourself that you only show to him. How funny it makes him feel "I was happy to see you, is all."

"I can see that," Wyll replies, smug - just barely. You bat your lashes, dazed. It's unlike you. Wyll likes it. "I'm happy to see you too. Always."

"Is it something serious?"

Ah. He's caught isn't he? In a way, he's tremendously lucky you're not too sober. He's sure you'll tease him about it later.

"No, I suppose not. It's nothing at all, I just," He stumbles uncertainly at what he should say "Well, I wanted to speak with you."

"You could've joined us!"

Wyll gives you a sideways glance.

"Could I?" He says, before he catches himself. He adds the next words apologetically almost "That outlander you've been conversing all night seemed rather rapt with you. I doubt I could've interjected anywhere without fumbling."

You look like you're processing his words, but it's not as if Wyll is going to let you.

Wyll often says to you that you make him forget himself, and there are moments like these he find that to be more true than ever. It is unlike Wyll - strong and chivalrous, poise and charming - to bear so heavy a feeling in his heart that he has to express it physically.

Only you could make his silver tongue submit to such urgent, base instinct. Wyll kisses you in the most unromantic way he knows. It's not very gentlemanly. A kiss to claim, to sink, to swallow.

He kisses hard, and your lips are faint with the taste of wine. You make a noise of surprise before you melt into his arms. The warmth of his body makes him feel like he's burning to ash. His tongue touches yours, warm and hot nipping at your mouth.

When you pull away, Wyll decides it still isn't enough to curb the jealousy. He lets his teeth drift down to your neck. Sharpened canines that scrape against thin skin. Wyll sucks hard, enough to make all the capilliaries break.

And you sigh - a pretty, welcoming noise. Wyll is marking you. He leaves one after the other, in admittedly visible places. But he's not thinking about, not really.

Not until your voice breaks, the sweetest edge of desire to your words. He's not so debased to do anything to you while you're more than tipsy. He pulls away from you, blinks at you candidly - before the realization dawns on him in full.

By the gods, what's wrong with him? Embarrassment hits him afterwards, abject dread filling him as he peers at the dark marks along your neckline.

Did he really...? Really?

"Wyll," You say, strikingly sober and delighted all of a sudden "Are you...perhaps...jealous?"

He rubs his face on his hand, suddenly flush, turning his expression to one side. He can't deny it at this point can he.

"I wonder if my life will be easier once our wedding is announced in print," He offers sheepishly. You laugh loudly, absolutely elated as you press your forehead to his. He does the same, of course "The ring seems to be no more than decorative to everyone."

"Wyll Ravengard, I would've never guessed in a thousand years you'd drag me here because you were jealous."

"Please forget my uncouth actions at your earliest convenience my love," He says, groaning "I might die of embarrassment otherwise."

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about. I get jealous over silly things all the time. I tell you as much."

"When you do it it's endearing. I'm meant to be a gentleman, yet in front of you - I lose my wits like I'm a boy no older than seventeen. It's maddening."

"You forget yourself?" You tease, characteristically. He laughs.

"A bit more each day, it seems."

"A little jealousy is healthy, Ravengard. Though, I'm not sure how we're going to return to camp in this state." You say, giving him a suggestive look "Perhaps we have a bit more to talk about here instead, hm?"

"We should be doing such things in a bed. Or a tent." Wyll insists. You chuckle like you know he'll give into you.

"Wouldn't it be more effective if that Outlander you're so jealous of saw me with a post sex glow, along with the hickies."

Wyll feels his skin prick with heat.

"You drive a hard bargain." He comments, voice soft as a whisper. You laugh.

"Maybe you're just an easy sell."

Wyll laughs heartily at that.

"Any one would jump at the chance for something so priceless, Hero of the Gate."

You give Wyll another smile, lovely and genuine - there's nothing smug about it. You kiss him tender, sighing happily into his arms. He finds himself helpless to his own joy.

"Then lets kill time here and head back,"

"Yes," He says, jealousy tucked away for now "Let's do that,"