#sorry that I’ve been gone for 2 weeks

[meiluu]

Leon S. Kennedy NSFW Drabble

Plagas!Leon/ Reader(AFAB) *not edited*

cw: SMUT 18+ MDNI

He needed you like he needed air, you were precious- irreplaceable. You were the best thing that ever happened to him and you were the biggest motivator to come back home while he was on his mission in Spain. Death had its bony fingers wrapped tight around him and it was only after he ripped apart Saddler and all of his little minions with their own ‘holy body’ did he finally feel deaths grasp loosen. Leon felt a surge of satisfaction at how he was able to resist Saddlers tries at controlling him, it brought him absolute joy watching as his face twisted up in confusion and anger at how Leon was stronger than him. But none of that mattered, all that mattered was seeing you in what felt like an eternity had passed. Leon had gotten the chance to clean and change his clothes, holding his duffle in his left hand he saw your car pull up into the airport parking. His whole body buzzed in a mixture of excitement and anticipation to what was to come.

Your intoxicating smell filled the air around him, and your sweet whimpers of pleasure were nothing short of a symphony to his ears. God you were so beautiful like this. Covered in his marks along with his cum smearing the insides of your thighs. He had done a good job fucking you dumb, reduced to nothing but moaning mess. This was the perfect opportunity to change you. Leaning down while still keeping his pace of his cock bullying into your cunt, he lets his canines elongate. Finding the spot where your neck and shoulder meet he sinks his teeth in as he feels the walls of your cunt squeezing and quivering around him as you orgasm for the umpteenth time tonight. A shocked cry of pain mixing with pleasure falls from your lips as Leon pushes parts of his plaga into you. A moment passes before he’s satisfied with his work, pulling back he can already see the faint black veins spreading from where he bit you. His own veins darken in response to yours his body trying to call out to yours- even though the process has just begun. “So beautiful, my good girl.” Voice rough with lust, his hands begin to massage and comfort your body while his once burning kisses now turn to soft loving one’s gently worshipping your tired body. Hopefully your transition will be quick- he couldn’t wait to see all of the changes that the plaga will bring to you.

This is kind of a continuation/ alternate version of my other plagas!leon Drabble lol, i am obsessed with this concept. I may write another Drabble that’s actually a continuation of this one, but that is tbd

[louisgayvodka]

₣₳ł₮Ⱨ ł₦ ₮ⱧɆ ₣Ʉ₮ɄⱤɆ

[medusa-was-innocent]

Wow this sucks

[liesyousoldme]

my sister in law took a picture of me cuddling with my nephews today and for the first time since i got my eyebrows back i feel like…. i look sick. like i look like a sick person. and obviously i KNOW i am a sick person but there is something about looking at yourself and seeing illness that feels really bad.

[linguenuvolose]

My dating stats are coming together more and more and….. idk how I feel about this

[exopelagic]

I am baking cake at midnight and it is going to kill me <3

[nikkento-writes]

Babysitter - Part 1

Pairing: dad!Toji x babysitter!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), language, cheating, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), breeding kink, daddy kink

Summary: You're hired to babysit little Megumi for the summer, but you end up taking care of his father, Toji, as well.

Author’s Notes: This is repost from my old blog! I initially got this as a request and it became my first Toji fic ever, and certainly not my last lol. I'm posting this again because I actually wrote a Part 2, check it out! Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

You stand in front of a quaint house, checking your watch for the time. It’s been almost ten minutes now since you knocked, no answer. You gave the number from the listing a call, still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you take a seat on the steps leading to the door, waiting.

It’s the summer before you head back to university for your senior year. In an attempt to make some extra cash, you took a job as a babysitter through local ads in the paper. The first two clients were completely normal; this one is already leaving a bad taste in your mouth. 

Fifteen minutes have passed. You try once more, pounding on the door with your fist as loud as you can. Heel turned, ready to leave, it suddenly swings open, revealing a muscular man with black hair, glaring at you. “What the fuck do you want?” 

You step back, startled by his intimidating presence. Stuttering, you answer, “I’m the babysitter.”

He continues to stare at you, eyes following your body up and down, studying it. “Babysitter?”

Before you can explain any further, you hear a car rolling into the driveway. A woman in professional attire steps out quickly. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” She rushes towards you, holding her hand out to shake yours. “We spoke on the phone. I got stuck in traffic, I’m so sorry.”

You smile at her. “It’s okay.”

She faces the man, expression switching from cheery to dreary in an instant. “Toji, where is Megumi?”

He scratches his head. “Huh?”

“Megumi. Our child.”

He sighs. “Right. Uh, I’ll go get him.” 

While he’s gone, the woman pulls you aside, speaking in a hushed voice. “That’s Toji, my husband and Megumi’s father. Unfortunately, he’s a complete deadbeat. That’s why I want to hire you. I started my new job and I need someone to take care of Megumi while I’m gone during the day.”

She swallows hard, blinking to fight off oncoming tears. “I have no one. I’ve been shunned by my family, my husband doesn’t give a shit about ours, and I’m all alone trying to give Megumi a good life. I know this is a lot to ask, but I’m desperate. This is just until I can save enough money to hire a full-time nanny.”

She grips onto your wrist with both her hands, begging for help. Truthfully, it’s a lot to unravel, more drama than you anticipated. But the anguish in her eyes tugs at your heartstrings. Plus, knowing it’s temporary doesn’t make it seem so difficult. How bad can it be? “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Relief washes over her. “Oh thank god. Thank you. Thank you. Let’s go inside and I can give you a tour.” She leads you through the entrance, removing her shoes as you follow her. “Oh, and one more thing.”

“Sure.”

“Toji is home most of the day, but he’s always couped up in his room, doing god knows what. Just leave a meal or two outside his door twice a day. That should be enough.”

“Huh?!” 

She glances at you with a nervous smile on her face. “Yeah. I told you, he’s good for nothing.”

You don’t respond while you maneuver through the house, barely paying attention while she shows you around. It almost sounds like you’ll be babysitting two children…

~~~

The first two weeks of your new job go by smoothly. Megumi is an adorable baby; he’s almost two-years-old with hair as black as his father’s. While he never really smiles, he doesn’t cry either, expression usually stern, unless he needs a diaper change. He’s self-sufficient, always immersed by his own toys until it’s time to eat. Overall, he’s easy. 

Toji, on the other hand, is another story. 

You follow his wife’s instructions, leaving two meals outside his door, breakfast and lunch. And this asshole has the audacity to critique it! The bread wasn’t toasted enough. The eggs were too runny. There wasn’t enough seasoning on the meat. All this criticism while each plate is licked clean, not a crumb to spot. He’s never even uttered a simple thank you. 

But what he lacks in social skills or personality, he makes up for in his physique. In between meals, he works out in the living room lifting weights, doing push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups at the frame of the door. It lasts for over an hour, and by the end of it, he’s shirtless, dripping with sweat. You’ve done everything in your power to avoid staring but it doesn’t prevent your mind from conjuring all types of lewd thoughts about him. You’re ashamed to admit that he is physically attractive, only because everything else about him is utter trash. Still, it doesn’t hurt to look, right?

On the third week, there’s a shift in energy between you two. When he isn’t working out or going out to meet with his sketchy friends, he’s usually couped up in his bedroom, ignoring you and Megumi. This morning, he actually joins you in the kitchen. You stare blankly at him, stunned by his sudden appearance. Megumi is unfazed by his father as he tries to pull your wrist towards him to get a spoonful of mushed up peas. 

When he catches you, Toji glares. “What?”

“Um, nothing. Just surprised to see you here.” You clear your throat, focusing back on the baby. 

He rolls his eyes. “This is my house. I can do whatever I want.”

“Yes, of course. Sir.”

For some reason, this triggers him. He stands up abruptly, stepping to you, leaning his face towards yours. The scar on the corner of his lip twitches when he gives you a wicked grin. “That’s right. I’m in charge here.”

You flinch from him, scared, maybe even slightly aroused. He’s intense, that’s for sure. But part of you finds it exhilarating to be in his presence. 

Megumi whines for more food, to which Toji grabs the utensil from your hands to start feeding him. “Damn kid, he’s hungry all the fucking time.”

You sit up in your seat, regaining your composure. “You shouldn’t curse in front of children.”

He faces you, chuckling. “Curse? Seriously? What are you, five?”

You cross your arms, answering, “I’m twenty-one.”

“Interesting.” There’s that naughty smirk again, as if he’s thinking something obscene in that twisted head of his. And while you should be turned off, you’re not. You squeeze your legs together, pussy throbbing between your thighs. And of course, he notices this. He must, because he leans forward, lips grazing your ear, whispering, “Come by my room whenever Megumi is taking his nap. That’s an order.”

~~~

This is bad. Very, very bad. 

You're supposed to be better than this. Clearly, you aren’t, because you’re currently getting railed by your employer’s husband while his child sleeps peacefully in the next room.

“Fuck, this pussy is tight,” he groans, pumping his thick cock in and out of you. You’re bent over the edge of the bed, his hips smacking against your ass as he thrusts into you. He’s got a tight grip on your hips, nails digging into your flesh, pounding away at your greedy pussy, absolutely drenched with arousal and lube. Your face is sticky with perspiration, pillow soaked with sweat and drool. It’s a fucking mess, but it doesn’t matter, because all you can think about is Toji fucking you until you’re seeing stars. Until your head is empty and nothing but his fat cock is occupying your thoughts.

“God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard, princess. You gonna come again?”

You nod erratically, reaching your fingers to your clit. He smacks it away, doing it himself, his thumb flicking against your swollen bud. “Fucking come on my cock then. Make it nice and creamy for me, got it?”

His cock is buried deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you unravel, gushing around him once more. You’ve lost count on how many orgasms you’ve had in this short amount of time. 

After your climax, he doesn’t pull out, fucking you even rougher. Your body is pliant around him, yielding to his every touch like putty. You’ve lost control of yourself, completely enraptured in the intense pleasure he surrounds you with. 

He leans forward, chest pressed to your back, lips brushed to your ear. “I’m gonna knock you up. Give Megumi a little brother or sister. Would you like that?” He’s crazy. Completely unhinged. Absolutely fucking psycho. 

“Fuck yes, I want that,” you moan. “Give it to me, daddy. Breed me.” 

And apparently, so are you. 

“Oh fuck yeah, take my fucking cum then,” he growls. The bed creaks violently below you, his backshots brutal and frantic now, cock desperate for release. “I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant. Make you mine.”

He shoots his hot load inside you, stuffing you full of his cum. He doesn’t stop until he’s fucked it deeper into your pussy, watching with that sexy look on his face as his creamy cum leaks out of your slit.

Lifting you up to lay comfortably on the bed, he rolls beside you, kissing you sloppily until Megumi’s whimpers blare through the baby monitor, indicating that he’s awake. Toji laughs, smacking your ass as you crawl over him to return to your real job. 

~~~

You spend the remainder of your summer employed at the Fushiguro household until you have to go back to school. You and Toji continue to fuck each other silly every day that you’re working. 

The day before you leave for college, you say your goodbyes to the family. Megumi’s mom, who remains blissfully unaware of your sins, hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much for all your help. I’ve finally saved enough money to afford a full-time nanny, so we’ll be fine.” 

“It was my pleasure. I had a lot of fun. With Megumi,” you clarify, avoiding Toji’s gaze as he watches from the kitchen. 

“Seriously. You’re a good person. I hope you know that.” She smiles, truly grateful. “And thank you for taking care of my good for nothing husband too.”

As the guilt of this dirty, filthy secret eats away at you, Toji stares at you from across the room, smirking. 

[comicaurora]

Hey, sorry if you’ve been asked this before, but I have ADHD and I’ve been following your comic for years and just now have started to write my own comic (partially because you really inspired me). But I’m really struggling with staying on the project even when it’s boring and getting myself to work on it in the first place. Do you have any tips on how to keep your brain invested or just to make yourself do the work at all?

I have excellent news, I literally just figured out something really important about this.

So when you're an ADHD kiddo or otherwise have difficulty staying on task in a structured environment where Task is the Priority, the main way people try to MAKE you stay on task is by removing your access to anything that is not The Task. No phone, no TV, no doodling, no going outside, etc. In practice, this just makes us miserable because it takes the boredom that's always simmering around a 2 or 3 and cranks it all the way up to 11. In the same way that you would have difficulty staying on task if you were in physical pain, this crushing existential monotony makes it very difficult to work. The work might get done simply because you have no other options, but it will not be done quickly or well, and it will take a while to recover from how much it hurt.

What I realized earlier this week is I caught myself doing this to myself. I had 42 pages of background colors to do, and I thought to myself "this sounds really tedious, but I suppose I have nothing better I can do." And I realized what I'd just thought, and got very alarmed.

Because back when I was an ADHD kiddo imprisoned by school scheduling and a million little factors that keep children immobile and restrained, I couldn't stop thinking about how big and exciting the world was, and how much I wanted to be anywhere but here. When I was feeling really crushed in I'd pick a random spot on the maps on my wall and just imagine being there instead of my bedroom. This was the impetus behind almost all of my creative energy. I've said it before - anything is a prison if you can't leave, and being in a prison makes it easy to imagine how amazing things could be outside of it. Aurora's initial worldbuilding was forged in the crucible of fifth grade misery. My enthusiasm for art and my creative drive are inextricable from my sense of wonder and yearning for excitement in the real world. Not escapism, but appreciation. Wonders unimaginable are out there, and I gain just as much joy seeking them out as I do conjuring them up in my head and sharing them with all of you.

So now that I'm a grown-up with actual freedom in every way I've been able to get, the idea that I was staying on task by making myself believe the world was small and not worth seeing was extremely alarming. It could keep me on task for an afternoon, but at the cost of slowly extinguishing the thing that made me want to make art in the first place - the hunger to experience and draw inspiration from all the myriad complexities in the world.

So what I've been doing is I've been purposefully and intentionally taking excursions whenever I catch myself thinking "I could take a break but it wouldn't be worth it, it's the same outdoors as always, I'll be uncomfy and unproductive and tired." Because that is never true. Every time I've put down the stylus and gone out, I've been renewed in one way or another, and when I come back to comfort fully recharged I get a lot of shit done. Because it is easier to work on anything if you remember why you wanted to make it in the first place, and it is self-defeating misery to just lock yourself in with it and tell yourself you're a bad person if you can't get it done.

I honestly don't know how widely applicable this is. I have worse wanderlust than anyone I know, so for me this has always been modeled as imprisonment vs freedom. I've also been extremely lucky to find myself in a profession that lets me set my own pace on literally everything I do. But I genuinely believe that when it comes to making art with ADHD, you need to give yourself freedom to move laterally, not just in the direction of obvious forward progress. We don't think linearly in any other part of our lives - art is no different.

[heartiis]

the big apple ꩜ .ᐟ pt.3

pt.1 pt.2 pt.4

pairing - ellie x reader

synopsis - you've just moved to nyc and ellie's your new neighbor. she hates you though and you don't know why :((

cw - mean ellie, eventual side gig dealer ellie, weed, tattoo artist ellie, smut, reader is not a total pillow princess, swearing, ellie flicking joint scene but different

a/n - sorry for the late upload, I tried finishing this yesterday but it just wasn't flowing very well. not my best work in terms of sentence flow etc. and it was actually my first time writing smut like this which was uhh a funny experience but yeah I hope u like it ;)

The next week after the night at the club had gone by in a frenzy. Dina and Jesse had both followed you on instagram and shown up for their drinks on the house as early as Monday. It made you happy because you felt they genuinely liked and wanted to spend time with you, especially Dina, who loved to chat and who also listened when you talked. She’d asked you to stop by her workplace too, which you did on Wednesday and were met with excited talking and lots of book recommendations. You two were becoming quick friends.

As for Ellie, you didn’t see her again after that Friday night, which made you increasingly less hopeful of anything happening between the two of you. Had her staring at you on the dance floor meant anything at all? Was it just her being pissed at you? If it was, hadn’t it been a strange moment for her to choose to express it?

You didn’t dare ask Dina. She had most likely caught on to you and you did not want to stoke the flames. Yes, she was nice, but she knew Ellie longer and as such was more loyal to her. You didn’t want to risk her mentioning your questions.

It was hard keeping it all in, especially because your mind couldn’t help wondering to your neighbor every so often. Her freckles, her tattoos, how her hair looked with the top half tied back. The way she had gazed at you that night.

You were almost at end of your Friday shift and anxious to go home when Dina walked in beaming. She came up to the cash register and leaned her hands on the counter, looking from the register to you.

“Hey there.”

“Hi.” You grinned. “What are you so exited about?”

“Well, me, Jesse and Ellie were thinking we wanted to do something today, but we were all too spent to go out. So Ellie suggested we have a smoke sesh at hers. I remember you told me that your shift ends at six today, so I’ve come to get you. What do you think?”

You bit your lip. You’d told Dina about you missing weed. Of course you wanted to go. You had been itching this whole time to get high, and you really were curious about what it would be like to get high with Ellie. But it didn’t seem at all like she’d want you there. “Did you ask her if it was okay for me to come?”

“She knows we’re friends now.” Dina gestured with her hands. “Imagine if I came to her place to smoke, which is right next door to yours, and didn’t invite you?”

“Dina.”

“Okay, okay! I know you two have a lot of tension.” Your heart fluttered at the way she said tension. Like that word contained so many things, and not all of them just some version of animosity. “But like I said, she’ll warm up to you. She’s got no choice now.”

“Did you ask her if I could come?”

“I told her through text, actually. And she didn’t say anything, which is as good as a ‘that’s fine.’”

You sighed. “You’re sure it won’t be weird?”

“Oh, it will be at first. But then we’ll get high, and everything will be great. Her weed’s amazing.”

You crossed your arms, then unfurrowed your brows. “Okay,” you said. “My shift ends in fifteen minutes.”

“Yay!” Dina pressed her palms together. “I’ll have an iced tea, then.”

-

Dina knocked on Ellie’s door after you had left your things at your place and changed into fresher clothes. You wore simple jeans and a tight fitted top this time. Jesse was the one to answer, soft music streaming out around him as he opened the door. As soon as he saw you were next to Dina his mouth opened up into a smile.“Y/n! Nice to see you. Come in.”

You stepped inside, feeling as if your stomach was folding unto itself. You took in your surroundings. The apartment was well kept but obviously lived in, with pieces of memorabilia and hints to Ellie’s personality scattered all over, including an acoustic guitar sat on a stand by the window.

Your stomach only squeezed in tighter when your gaze landed on Ellie laid back in the living room couch, wearing a loose t-shirt and baggy jeans. On the coffee table next to her lay a mason jar with more weed than you’d ever seen at once, as well as rolling papers, a lighter, and a grinder with a planet print on it.

“Ooh, nice,” Dina said, already getting close to peer at the spread on the table. You followed her lead and she took your hand and sat you down on the other edge of the couch. You waited for her to sit in between you and Ellie, but she didn’t, instead plopping herself down on the carpet. Jesse sat on the carpet too, criss-crossing his legs and leaning his elbows on the coffee table.

Ellie’s stare fixed on you then dropped away. As you, Dina, and Jesse chatted she got to work on rolling a joint. You couldn’t help but stare when her tongue slid against the paper and her deft fingers pushed it down She took the lighter from the table and lit the joint, taking two hits before passing it to you. It went around without much talking, but on Jesse’s second turn he glanced at you, then at Ellie, then at Dina.

“So,” Jesse started. “Ellie was telling me about this client who came in and got a big moth tattoo, but started absolutely sobbing after it was done, demanding a refund.”

Ellie’s mouth broke into a grin. “Dude, you’re making it seem like I’m bad at my job.”

“What? Of course not! Everyone knows you’re fucking great. She obviously just hadn’t thought it through. It was funny.”

Dina laughed. “You guys are horrible! The poor girl’s going to be stuck with that for life.”

“Could be a worse situation,” You said. “Ellie’s tattoos are pretty good.” It was at that moment when you complimented her that you realized you were already beginning to feel high. Jesus, it really was good weed. And like any good weed, it was lowering your inhibitions, making you less afraid to talk.

For a second, it was quiet. Then she spoke. “Thanks.”

Dina subtly threw a grin your way. “So, did you get her a refund?”

“Hell no. I spent six hours on it.”

“Damn Ellie, that’s cold,” Jesse teased.

Ellie just took the joint and smoked.

The night went on with the four of you in conversation. Ellie was still much quieter than you imagined she normally was, but at least she wasn’t being actively hostile towards you. She would say things to you sometimes, and you would say things back, and the higher you got the easier it was.

Eventually your high began to fade, and everyone else agreed that it was going away for them too. Ellie rolled another joint and flicked on the lighter, dragging the smoke in in order to light the end properly. As soon as she raised her hand at Dina to pass it to her, Dina stood up and declared she was tired and needed to go home.

You looked around, unsure of what to do now. Dina saw you begin to adjust yourself to stand up and quickly pushed you down. “Don’t worry, y/n. You can stay. You told me you’d been craving weed, right? Ellie’s already lit the thing. Enjoy it. She’s got a shit ton more.”

You looked at Ellie, who had withdrawn her hand, leaned back and brought the joint once again to her lips.

“Well, I’m staying here,” Jesse took the joint from Ellie. “It’s still early.”

“No you’re not.” Dina walked around the coffee table and started to pull him off the floor. “I need you to ride the subway with me so you can walk me home. It’s not safe for me at this hour.”

“What—“ but before he could get in more words of protest, Dina was already saying goodbye and dragging him away. Between you still being slightly buzzed and it all happening so fast, you could barely think of what to do besides watch them walk out.

You turned back to Ellie, who was grabbing the joint from where Jesse had left it on the table. To your surprise, she offered it to you. You accepted it. Why not, right?

“So,” you said, trying to make conversation. “You play guitar?”

“Yeah.” She watched as you took a drag. “Do you play anything?”

You looked at the guitar. It really was a beautiful instrument, clearly well made. “Unfortunately not. I wish I had something like that to impress girls with,” you joked, passing Ellie the joint.

She frowned as she took it. You were keenly aware of every move she made, every ripple in the taut muscles of her arms. “You think that’s why I learned to play guitar?”

You crossed your legs. “No, no. I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.”

“You’re not sorry. But it’s fine.” She scoffed. “And you don’t need a guitar to impress girls.”

Your heart fluttered. “What do you mean?”

Ellie stayed quiet. When you wouldn’t stop staring at her with an expectant look on your face, she shrugged. “It’s… it’s nothing. Just, you know.”

“No, I don’t know.” You pulled in closer, uncrossing your legs. If she wasn’t going to tell you, then fine. “Maybe I do, actually. That girl at the club seemed pretty into me. Maybe I just have to dress like that more often.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And to let girls play with your ass in public?”

You opened your mouth, stammered, then shut it. You were not expecting a response like that. After the initial shock, it made you angry. “What’s it to you?”

She just stared. You could feel her gaze burning into you. The whole living room, with its low yellow lighting and quiet surroundings seemed warm with it.

“You really piss me off sometimes, you know that?” She said.

You took the joint from between her hands and took a drag, not letting go of eye contact one bit as you breathed out and the milky smoke rose around you. “Yeah. I know.”

“Fuck you,” she said breathlessly.

You got in closer to her. You were burning now, too. “Fuck you too.”

You moved your hand to take another hit, but Ellie snatched it out of your fingers and flicked it on the floor. You only had time to make a ‘what the hell?’ face at her for a split second before she had her hands on your face, pulling you into a kiss.

The instant you felt her warm lips on you, you gave in. You kissed her back, not caring that she could feel your desperation because you wanted her to feel it, you wanted her to know what she did to you. What she’d been doing to you, all this time. And you could feel hers too.

You placed a hand on her jaw and soon she pulled away, hands still on your face. You frowned. She just took it and brought it in close again, but not enough for your lips to touch fully. Just enough for them to ever so slowly slide against each other. You tried to kiss her properly again, but she stopped you, adamant on letting you only have that much.

“That’s how you made me feel,” She said softly.

Oh, really? You thought. Two can play at this game.

You pulled away fully, taking her hands in yours and pulling them down. She frowned. Then you came back in, only not to kiss her. You brought your face to the level of her neck and left your mouth open as you slid your lips over the soft skin, painstakingly slow. Her breathing got heavier.

Then you rolled your leg over her, getting on top of her lap. With one hand on the neckline of her shirt and the other on her jaw, tracing the line of her bottom lip with your thumb, you smiled softly. “What did I make you feel, Ellie? Did I make you feel desperate?” You lowered your face, your cheek just brushing against hers, mouth right next to her ear. “When I danced with that girl at the club, did I make you jealous?”

“Fuck you,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” you said. “Fuck me.”

She threw your back onto the sofa and kissed you hard. It was fast and rough, rougher than you were used to, but she was so good at it and you were both so feverish that the harshness felt good. She was warm, so warm. With her body against you and your mind high you felt as if you were melting into her. It was intoxicating, she was intoxicating. You’d kissed girls before and it had felt nice and sometimes it had even felt pretty good, but not like this. Never like this. Like pure, poisonous nectar was dripping through your bloodstream.

You ran your hands over her back, digging your fingers in, and let out the smallest moan in her mouth. You felt her back rise and stand there for a moment before falling. Then she lodged her thigh in between your legs. Right on that spot that had been aching like hell.

You kissed her harder, and she pressed her leg in a little harder. You grabbed at her hair, running your hands through it. She pulled her leg back slightly and pressed harder.

Then she drew back. “Do I have to fucking beg to hear you?”

You looked at her eyes. Green, with the tiniest bits of brown running through them. There were slivers of yellow light reflecting off of them, and in your high state it was as if there was liquid gold running over her irises. No, she didn’t have to beg.

You kissed her again, gently this time, and ground yourself on her thigh. You whimpered into her lips. Then when she grabbed onto your hips and started guiding them, you parted from the kiss and moaned. It was like she couldn’t get enough, every noise from you made her move faster, more restlessly, until you put your hand on her stomach and when you couldn’t find skin, lowered it so you could push her shirt up and touch her abs.

Once you did that, she started pulling it up. Your hands immediately rose to help her, and when the shirt was fully off, you gazed at her body. She was wearing a similar sports bra to the one you saw before, and underneath it, inked over her skin was the rib tattoo, a snake coiling over a bird. Along with it were others, over her hips and her stomach, crawling down her hips to her pelvis, where it disappeared under her jeans. You traced that one with your pointer.

She drew back her thigh and touched your own stomach, toying with the hem of your jeans as if asking a question. You used your other hand to guide her in, just enough so she could feel the lacy top part of your underwear. She slid her hand down onto your cunt. You could feel her smile against your cheek when she noticed how wet you were.

A whimper left your lips as she started to move her fingers. God, you didn’t know that could feel so good. Nobody had ever done it that well on you, not even yourself. As she sped up, strained moans spilled out of you. Your body wanted you to be louder, but you were scared someone would hear.

Ellie’s cheek dragged against yours. “Why the hell are you holding back?”

“I… don’t want the neighbors to…”

She lessened her pace, leaving you desperate. “Fuck that,” she said.

She withdrew her hand. Once you were desperate for more, but now you were full on throbbing. She started to move back on the couch, and you furrowed your brows in protest until she fully unzipped your jeans and pulled them down. Not satisfied, she tugged at your shirt so you would sit up and take it off. Then she slowly pushed you down, her hand on your bare rib making your skin feel electric.

She studied your body, breathing hard. “Jesus Christ,” she said, before putting her hands all over you, sliding them up and down. Massaging your breast, she licked the soft part of your belly just over your panties. Even though she wasn’t touching your cunt, you couldn’t help but make soft noises. Then she moved her tongue up, around your belly button, to your sternum, where she stopped.

“Don’t keep quiet this time.”

She pulled off your panties and spread your legs, planting her tongue on you.

“Shit,” you breathed.

She sped up and slowed down at just the right moments, using just the right pressure, as if she already knew your body better than you. All the while the feeling of it, the wetness of her tongue sliding over your folds made you delirious with pleasure. You couldn’t hold back anymore. The more you moaned the better it felt, the closer you got until you were gripping her hair and shifting your hips back and forward.

“El, fuck,” you moaned as you came, instinctively using the nickname. She guided you through the orgasm, lapping her tongue slowly.

You let go of her hair and she brought her face up, then began to fidget with your bra, pushing her hands to your back so she could find the clasp as she licked the parts of your boobs which were bare.

“No, wait,” You said, still a little breathless. Ellie stilled, looking at you. You gently pushed her back, and she let you, until you were back on top of her lap and she was staring up at you. Your hands led hers to the back of your bra where the clasp was so she could take it off. She brushed her thumbs over your nipples, causing them to harden. A pleasurable electric sensation shot up between your legs, but you only let out a few whimpers before stopping yourself from becoming too distracted.

You touched your face to her neck, sliding your mouth once again over it. You started to grind yourself on her while making lewd noises right next to her ear. Her hands went over your hips and guided them back and forth, urging you to thrust harder. One of your hands traveled to the button of her jeans. You fidgeted with it but held it there. Biting at her neck, you moved your hips ever so slightly in time to the sliding of your fingers on her stomach.“Do you want it?” you asked.

“Yes—fuck, I want it,” she replied.

You undid the button and zipper of her jeans then dug your hand underneath her underwear, smiling at the feeling of her bush and her wet folds. You were worried you perhaps weren’t going to be as good as she’d been, but your worries faded as she whimpered, gripping your hips hard. The noises became quieter when she began to suck your breasts, to your delight still making muffled grunts and whines against them.

As you sped up she became more frenzied until she took your face in her hand and kissed you, tongue against tongue. You realized she was coming when she couldn’t kiss you properly anymore and buried her face in your neck and cursed, her body tensing until it began to twitch. You both caught your breath, inhaling and exhaling raggedly. Then she laid you back down on the couch and kissed you softly as your legs wrapped around her. The two of you made out until you were too sleepy, at which point your arms and limbs intertwined as you drifted off to sleep.

pt.4

-

a/n - depending on wether or not ppl seem interested I will be continuing this series, which I will prob finish in one or two parts. if you really want me to continue feel free to comment or dm!!

[peachesofteal]

Light On- single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt: 1 of 2 for sickfics / requested by multiple

I’m going to need a raincheck for dinner tonight. 

Simon frowns at his phone. You’re bailing? You seemed excited about it when he asked earlier in the week, offering to take you and Emmaline down the street to the little café on the corner for dinner. It had taken him days to work up the courage, needlessly pushed on by Johnny’s ‘encouragement’ relentless text messages filled with date ideas, and bad pick-up lines. 

Still, you had said yes. Had asked if meant Emma too, and he took secret pleasure in the way you seemed so relieved when he tilted his head and told you, of course.

Okay. Is everything alright? He fires back immediately, wondering if the crying that he’s been hearing on and off all morning has anything to do with you backing out. 

I’m not feeling great, and neither is Emma. I think we’re coming down with something. Coming down with something, like you’re sick? You’re sick? Anxiety twists in the pit of his stomach, worrying curling his fingers into a fist with a clench. 

Alright. Let me know if you need anything? He waits for a text back, an answer of some kind, an assurance that you’ll seek him out if you need help or need anything. 

It never comes. 

Six hours later, Simon is at your door. 

He has grit his teeth through the day, paced around his own flat endlessly, tried everything he could think of to distract himself. Every time he heard Emmaline wail, his stomach flipped, worry, fear, breaking down his logical sense, the analytical part of his brain until he was standing in front of your door, waiting for the inevitable click of the handle. 

When it comes, and you’re standing on the other side, his heart sinks. 

He should have come over soon. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” He says it as softly as he can, a newfound pitch of his voice that seems to only be reserved for you, trying to allay the panic that has started to form as ice inside his chest. 

“Sorry about the noise.” You croak, and he smothers his wince. You sound awful, voice nearly gone, like your throat has been rubbed raw with sandpaper. Emmaline is clad only in a diaper, and when he looks closer, he can see the stain of what he thinks must be her vomit on your shirt. Over your shoulder, dirty bottles, dishes lay stacked next to the sink, a laundry basket with a mountain of baby clothes piled high sits on the table. 

“Can I help-“ You sway, arm tightening around the baby, and he doesn’t think, doesn’t stop himself, he just moves.“Alright,” He murmurs, wrapping an arm around you, supporting both you and Emmaline by shifting you into his side, one hand against Emma’s back. She feels warm, but not nearly as hot as you, and panic tries to bubble up his throat again at the blaring heat that’s coming from your skin. “I’ve got you.” 

“Sorry, ‘m a little dizzy.” 

“It’s okay.” He keeps you close, turning you back through the door. Emma makes scratchy, unhappy noises, and he rubs his thumb against her skin. “Shhh. I know, I know. You’re okay.” You lean into him harder, and he accommodates it, moving the two of you towards the couch. “I know, you’re not feeling too good are you?” He says to Emma after he gets you down on the couch, hands now around her back, waiting for a sign of permission from you to lift her. 

“She can go down. If you-“ Your breath gets caught in your chest, and you curl forward, his hand going to your shoulder, your body shaking with a cough. “If you want to try.” You whisper once you recover, brows knitted together in misery, and he cradles her, rocking her back and forth, mimicking your usual movements. 

“You stay right here.” He nods to the couch, using a fraction of the voice he uses on Johnny, and you immediately nod, eyes shuttering closed with a slow blink. “Just rest.” 

Emmaline is still crying when he opens the door to her room, the first he’s seen it, pale green walls and dark wood crib, small rocker in the corner next to a changing table. It’s a comforting space, decorated and cared for with love, and for a moment, his mind wanders to an image of you, painting the walls with a swollen belly, or curled in the plush rocker, reading a book to Emmaline, still nestled inside you. He wasn’t there for it, but he just knows you were so beautiful, the kind of glow that would have stopped him in the street. You still stop him in the street. 

Emma wails, bringing him back to reality with a softer cry than earlier, and he keeps her close to his chest, murmuring low and soft. “Shhh. You’re alright, baby girl. You’re okay.” He continues the rocking side to side thing you usually do in a standing position, mumbling things to her, stroking his fingers down her cheek, her forehead, bouncing and swaying at the same. “Are you not feeling too good? Is that what’s got you all upset? Yeah. I get kind of grumpy when I don’t feel good either.” He coos, little lashes slowly blinking up at him, transfixed on his face during his stream of chatter until they begin to slip shut, her mouth still hanging half open. He holds his breath, staring in astonishment at her sleeping face, half shocked, half ridiculously pleased.

“Have you taken anything?” He barely sits on your ottoman, leaning over to get a better look at you, uncomfortable with the way your eyes seem glazed over, how slow they are to react. Maybe you need to go to the hospital? 

“Some naproxen, a bit ago.”  You look exhausted, eyelids heavy, and he can’t stop himself from pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. 

“You’re really warm, sweetheart. Do you need a doctor?” Tell me what to do, he wants to beg. Tell me how to help.

“No, jus’ sleep.” A confused look flickers across your face. “Oh my god, did you…” you swallow a cough, his hand sliding down to cup your shoulder, thumb soft against your dirty t shirt. “did you get her down?” He nods, slowly, fighting the small grin that tugs at his lips. 

“Wow.” You breathe, and your hand drags up your chest to where his still sits on your arm, fingers intertwining in his with a small squeeze. “You really are our hero.” He smiles at you, because how can he not, heart warm and full in his chest, the feeling something he hasn’t experienced in a long, long time. 

There’s a moment, a second extended into a minute, maybe an hour, he’s not sure, where you don’t look away from him. Where you look at him, really look at him, and see him, see his twice broken nose, the scar on his cheek, the one above his eyebrow. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t try to hide or look away, just holds himself still, staring down at you on the couch, sweat dotting your forehead and neck, still beautiful with your fever parched skin and tired eyes. 

“Simon.” You whisper, and he thinks, maybe… he’s supposed to kiss you right now. That if he were braver, if Johnny were here to egg him on, if he felt like it wasn’t taking advantage of your weakened state… he might. But instead- 

“Why don’t you close your eyes, love. Try to get some rest. I’ll stay. See if I can get some of these dishes done. I can get her if she gets up.” 

“You don’t have-“ 

“I know.” He soothes. “I know I don’t, but I’m here. Let me help.” Let me help you. Let me be here. 

You take a deep breath, as deep as you can manage, and then your voice is light, but so sweet, and so, so trusting when you say;

“Okay, Simon.” 

[ellecdc]

oh wooow…. I just found your chef!sirius and I think you unlocked a new favorite au for me! I’ve always been more of a james girlie but your sirius, especially your chef!sirius has me feeling all types of ways. do you have anything more for him and reader planned? I’d love to read more about them and their dynamic he’s been so sweet on her at a&e and the lip biting thing has made me think of plenty of unholy things they could do.

so excited to read more of them! or reread chef!sirius if you don’t plan on adding more. 🤍🤍🤍

I love them, your honour. Also, omg it's happening!!!!!!!!!!! thanks for your sweet words, babes <3

chef!Sirius x mixologist!reader who have their first date [2.5k words]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

CW: reader is anxious as fuck about the date, we actually don't talk about Jeffery even once in this so sorry to all our Jeffery Stans (or haters) out there xoxoxo

A date.

An actual date.

And if it went well; your first date.

God did you hope it went well.

You’d been rightfully wary about the prospect of dating a coworker but you had to admit it was growing increasingly difficult (and extremely tiresome) pretending you weren’t completely gone for the cantankerous chef who seemed to only soften for you. 

Thankfully it seemed he was just as gone for you, which at least meant it would only be slightly awkward if it didn’t go well and not see you dying from embarrassment. 

What you hadn’t been prepared for, however, was how difficult taking a noteworthy chef out for a dinner date would turn out to be. 

Every restaurant you had suggested (though Sirius had insisted he would go anywhere with you) was either owned by someone he knew and was in direct competition with, someone he knew and didn’t like, or someone he knew and felt their food was no good. 

So you had made - what you were sure was a brilliant idea at the time - the horrible suggestion of just having him over to your flat for dinner. 

Great.

Terrible. 

Because now you were responsible for preparing a meal for that same noteworthy chef who got paid to spend day after day shouting at his kitchen staff for their “sad excuses for artistic plating” and “terrible passes at edible food”. 

Stupid, stupid girl. 

You warily eyed the sauce you had set aside for your tomato basil pasta as you stirred the store bought pasta on the stove.

What were you thinking!? Two of the seven ingredients (not including the bloody pasta) was in the sodding title. 

You were going to simply throw up. 

But the sound of an assured knock on the door felt like a buzzer ringing loud and obnoxiously at the end of a game - you were officially out of time.

Or were you?

Could you cancel? Tell him you were feeling poorly?

The fact that he had showed up at your sodding house with various essentials a mere few weeks ago told you no, you couldn’t cancel.

You smoothed out your shirt with shaky hands as you moved towards your front door. 

You saw this man almost everyday; you worked with him, and when you weren’t working with him, you were often commuting home with him or finding some other excuse to be in each other’s company.

So why were you nervous?

You opened the door to expose him; standing tall in all his fair skin, tattooed, storm-cloud eyes, inky-black hair artfully tied back in a way that screamed “I hardly tried” that you could never accomplish no matter how hard you tried glory.

Oh right.

That’s why you were nervous. 

“Hey there.” He greeted you softly; eyes roving over your form in much the same way yours had just done as you clocked in on the bouquet of flowers hanging casually in his hand. 

You had to wipe your now clammy hands off on your shirt again. 

“Hey.” You said belatedly, earning you a smirk from your date. “Erm, sorry, come in.” You chuckled awkwardly as you moved out of his way and granted him access to your flat. 

“Smells great!” He offered earnestly, pausing to turn to you and gesture to the flowers. “Can you tell me where I can find a vase for these?”

“I can take those!” You began, reaching forward only to have him move them up and out of your reach with a smile on his face.

“Can you tell me where I can find a vase for these?” He repeated softly, taking the hand you had been reaching for the bouquet with in his and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

Your brain worked overtime to keep your knees from buckling and directing him to the third cupboard from the left. 

He looked jarringly at home in your kitchen; shucking off his jacket and throwing it over the back of a stool before grabbing a vase from the appropriate cupboard and beginning a search through your drawers for a pair of scissors.

You had to remind yourself that he was a chef and it was his job to look at home in a kitchen; that was his domain.

You realised then that he had been speaking to you. 

“I’m so sorry, what was that?”

“I was only saying that I looked it up and made sure that these were safe for cats.” He said simply as he fluffed the bouquet in its new home and moved it to the centre of the counter with a satisfied smile. 

“You didn’t have to do that, Sirius.” You cooed somewhat embarrassingly. “I would have fought Birdie over them even if they weren’t.” 

Sirius let out one of his notorious barks of laughter (that half the staff insisted you were making up) that immediately left you feeling more at ease. 

“Well, no fighting required.” He said as he moved towards you, widening his stance so that he was closer to your height and wrapping his arms around your middle. “Thank you for having me.”

“Thank you for coming.” You smiled back; officially lost in the overwhelming beauty of this adonis who willingly accepted spending one of his precious evenings off with you. 

“I think your pasta might be done.” He whispered then, causing you to startle slightly and scramble from his grasp towards the stove.

“Anything I can do to help?” He asked as he followed you over.

“No!” You shouted at first, immediately embarrassed as you opted to pretend the heat of your face was a product of the steam from the pasta. “No, just, erm, go sit down.”

He backed out of your kitchen with a flirty smile on his lips as he accepted your direction.

Now you could understand why he was always yelling at people in his kitchen. 

You were astounded that you didn’t simply melt into goo under his steady gaze as you worked, but you were finally bringing the finished pasta to the table and sitting across from him.

“I apologise in advance; I’m not the cook you are.” You offered as you handed him the spoon to serve himself first. 

He gave you an odd look as he reached over and filled your plate first before his own. “No sorry needed, doll. When someone feeds me, I say thank you.”

You let out a breathy laugh as you picked up your fork. “Oh!” You nearly shouted, kneeing the table in your haste to stand causing you to have to catch a cup before it toppled. “Buggering fuck, sorry.” You apologised quickly, thanking every god known to mankind that you didn’t dump his plate or glass onto him. “Sorry, I forgot the asiago.” 

You opened the fridge and shoved your head into it feigning a search for the cheese when you really needed to cool down and take some steadying breaths.

You were fine, this was fine. 

Just fine.

Except that you had a stupid sexy tattooed chef sitting at your dining room table waiting for you to bring him the sodding asiago. 

You closed the fridge with a little too much force and heard some errant condiment tip over in the shelves behind you; you’d deal with that later. 

“This smells really good, doll.” He offered again, spreading the forsaken cheese over his pasta before loading a fork full and bringing it to his lips. 

You held your breath as you watched him chew; his brows furrowed before he nodded and let out an appreciative hum.

 “Very good; nicely done, gorgeous.” 

You smiled shyly at the praise and took your own bite.

It was good.

But surely it could be better? 

Should you have put more garlic in? The five cloves were already 3-4 more than the family recipe called for. And was there enough salt?

You definitely overcooked the pasta. 

The store bought pasta.

Fuck. 

“Hey.”

You looked up from your spiralling to see Sirius watching you cautiously. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing! Sorry.” You chuckled and began picking at your food. “Sorry, how was your day?”

He narrowed his eyes at you as he weighed whether or not he was going to let you brush past his question.

Apparently, you looking nervously down at his fork solidified his decision.

“That’s it.” He said as he put his fork down. “Come’ere.”

And before you could protest, he had one of the legs of your chair in his hand and was pulling you over to him. “What’s going on in that head of yours, hm?” He asked as he brushed a lock of your hair away from your eyes.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.” You offered more confidently. 

Sirius hummed in faux consideration. “I call bullshit.”

You let out a defeated sigh and looked down at your hands in your lap. “I….I’m sorry, I- I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve made a mistake.”

Sirius was quiet for a few moments as you picked at your thumb nail and tried to ignore the stinging behind your eyes.

“Agreeing to spend tonight with me?” He asked softly then, causing you to look up so quickly that you heard your neck crack. 

“No! No! No, Sirius, not- not you, not this.” You assured him quickly, pulling one of his hands into both of yours. “I feel ridiculous.”

“‘Bout what?” He asked with reservation, though he considered your face with a look of concern clouding his own. 

“I can’t believe I tried cooking for you.” You bemoaned then, feeling that traitorous stinging behind your eyes turn into glossiness along your lash line. 

You watched in abject horror as Sirius’ face fell completely blank before he burst into laughter.

You were wrong, you were completely and utterly wrong; this really could end in you dying of humiliation. 

You were going to have to quit your job. You’d have to move back in with your parents. You’d have to change your number. You’d have-

“Doll, hey, hey wait!” Sirius managed to get out between hearty laughs as you tried pulling your hands away from him. “Wait! No no no, babe, listen.”

You let out a breath that sounded dangerously close to a sob and pointedly kept your gaze at your lap; perhaps not the greatest option because from this vantage point all you could see was your hands in his which left you aching with want. 

One of his hands disappeared as it moved to your chin when he forced you to look at him.

“Do you know what I would be eating at home if I was alone right now?” He asked you around an incredibly handsome cheeky smile. 

You shook your head once which resulted in one traitorous tear spilling from your lashes, stealing Sirius’ silver gaze from your eyes as his thumb moved to catch it. 

“Maybe packaged ramen?” He replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “Except I wouldn’t have cooked it.”

“What?” You choked out through a wet laugh.

“I wouldn’t have cooked it.” He repeated. “I would have crushed the noodles, opened the bag, sprinkled the seasoning on top of it and given it a shake and then would have eaten it from the bag.”

“That’s awful.”

“It is awful!” He agreed readily. “And do you know when the last time someone cooked for me was?”

You shook your head again. 

“Neither do I.” 

You both chuckled and he let his hand fall away from your chin where it joined your own again in your lap. 

“I cook all day long for everyone else and I usually can’t be arsed to cook for myself when the time comes. When I visit friends and family, they usually prefer having food prepared by a chef and I can’t bring myself to deny them because I love them and love cooking for them, so, this really is a treat. Not only did I not have to make it, it is also very good. I’ll be honest, I didn’t even know you could cook, so I was prepared to eat frozen pizza which still would have been an upgrade from my dry ramen.” 

You let out a breath in faux reluctance as you purveyed your set up. It did smell really good. 

“Did I completely botch this date?” You asked teasingly, though when you looked back at Sirius his gaze was as soft as butter left in the sun. 

“Absolutely not.” He whispered, leaning imperceptibly closer to you. “This is actually turning out better than I could have imagined.”

You hummed in acknowledgement as your eyes - without your consent - fell to his lips. “Yeah? Spend a lot of time imagining dates with me?”

“The majority of my time, actually.” He agreed easily, inching even closer to you. 

“And how do they usually end?”

Sirius shook his head no as his eyes moved to your own lips. “I don’t imagine that; I don’t imagine having to say goodbye.”

“No?”

“No.” 

“What do we do instead of saying goodbye, then?”

His eyes moved up to your own at that; neither of your daring to breathe as he searched your eyes for some kind of answer.

Well, you’d give him one.

Your answer came in the form of you closing the distance between you two and pressing your lips to his; he tasted a little bit like the mint gum you knew he chewed to avoid smelling like cigarettes, and he also tasted a bit like your pasta.

Your pasta, that you made for him. 

That he liked. 

And somewhere under all of that; somewhere under the mint and the tomato-basil-garlic, he tasted quite a bit like home. 

You weren’t sure who broke the kiss, but suddenly the two of you were connected by your foreheads as you took a heavy breath. 

“Usually that.” He answered breathlessly, earning him a laugh as you lowered your head only for him to pull it back up to press another kiss to your lips. “Can we eat this really good pasta that someone so graciously made for me now?” 

You laughed at him again and prepared to move your chair back to the other side of the table only for Sirius to reach over you and grab your plate so that you were sitting directly beside him instead. 

The two of you fell into your usual and comfortable repertoire then; his hand never leaving your knee under the table as the two of you talked about nothing and everything.

“Did you really not think I could cook?” You asked him  as you watched him clear off your table for you because “you cooked doll, it’s only fair.” 

You swore you noticed a slight dusting of pink on his cheek bones as he busied himself with loading your dishwasher. 

“Erm, no…actually. I never imagined goodbyes, and I never imagined you cooking.”

And though you wouldn’t find out until much, much later in your relationship; Sirius really didn’t think you could cook because the version of you in his head didn’t need to, that’s what he was for.

[meiluu]

I would just like to say I’m so sorry to my followers and anyone else who reads my stuff and how I haven’t posted in over a month now(besides the occasional repost). School has been whopping my ass but I’ve recently finished one of my shorter classes so I should be getting more flexibility in my schedule to actually post(I have a bunch of ideas and stuffs in my drafts)

ILL POST SOON, I promise!

[solxamber]

Vice Housewardens + Kalim trying a period simulator

part 1 with overblot gang + adeuce + rollo

I love putting them through this

Trey Clover:

Trey had always been the reliable, grounded guy. Need a cake baked? Trey. Need a shoulder to cry on? Trey. So when you approached him with the suggestion of trying a period pain simulator for "educational purposes," he just adjusted his glasses and said, “Sure, why not?” with his usual level-headedness.

You’d attached the electrodes to his abdomen, and he watched, almost too calmly, as you adjusted the settings. “This isn’t going to be so bad,” he mused. “I mean, how bad could it rea—”

Level 3 hit.

Trey’s entire body stiffened like a poorly baked souffle. His hands gripped the edge of the counter, and his polite smile faltered into something...less composed.

“Okay. Alright. Th-That’s something,” he said, voice tight. His glasses started slipping down the bridge of his nose, and for the first time ever, Trey Clover—the epitome of calmness—looked mildly panicked. “W-Wait, are you sure this is—AH, WHY IS IT IN MY SPINE?”

You snorted as he shot you a look, beads of sweat forming on his brow.

By level 6, Trey was gripping the counter like it was holding him back from the gates of hell. “This is not natural. I’m convinced this is just dark magic. I think the dough is rising inside me.”

When it reached level 9, Trey—calm, responsible Trey—finally broke. “Okay, okay, STOP. I take it back. You are all warriors. I’ll bake you whatever you want for the rest of the week, just please stop.”

With a press of the button, you ended his suffering, and Trey fell back in his chair, gasping for air like he’d just run a marathon. He gave you a weak thumbs-up. “Good... good lesson. I have so much respect for you now. Never again.”

Ruggie Bucchi:

Ruggie thought he could handle anything. Growing up in the slums, you learn to survive, right? So when you casually mentioned a period pain simulator, he scoffed. “Psh, it can’t be worse than a day of running around for Leona. Hit me with it.”

Oh, sweet Ruggie. He didn’t know.

You strapped him up, and as the simulator started, he just chuckled. “This is nothin’. I’ve had stomach cramps before. Ain’t gonna—”

Level 4.

Ruggie doubled over, hands on his knees, eyes wide. “H-Hey, what the—ow, ow, OW! Is this what you deal with?!” His voice cracked as his body spasmed.

By level 6, he was on the floor, clutching his stomach. “I’m sorry for everything. For stealing your snacks, for—oh seven, is this my punishment for that time I ate all your donuts?!” He was gasping, rolling on his back, legs kicking in the air like he was trying to outrun the pain.

“Ruggie, I’m only at level 7,” you said, laughing.

Level 9 hit, and that’s when it got wild. “PLEASE! PLEASE! I’LL DO ANYTHING! I’LL WASH ALL OF YOUR LAUNDRY. I’LL DO GRIM’S CHORES. JUST TURN IT OFF.”

You finally turned it off, and Ruggie lay there, twitching, face pale. “...I’ll never complain about anything again. Ever.”

Jade Leech:

Jade approached the period pain simulator like he did everything else—with unnerving curiosity. “Fascinating. I’ve heard about this phenomenon, but I’ve never had the chance to experience it firsthand.” He grinned that unsettling grin of his as you set it up.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” he added with eerie confidence, as if he were about to observe himself in an experiment.

Level 2 was fine. At level 4, he twitched slightly. “Interesting sensation. It feels as though something is constricting. Very curious.”

At level 5, his smile wavered, just a bit. His breathing hitched, and his hand twitched. “Ah. I see. A dull, persistent ache.”

By level 7, Jade was gripping the edge of his chair, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. “This... is more intense than I anticipated. Quite...quite challenging.”

Level 9, and his grin was gone. For once, Jade looked almost human—panicked and wide-eyed. His fingers dug into the table as he gasped, “What is this? Is this...some sort of torture technique?”

You had to fight back laughter as he gave you a rare, pleading look. “Turn it off...please.”

When it finally stopped, Jade blinked rapidly, straightening himself with as much dignity as he could muster. “I’ll admit, I underestimated that. Quite... informative.”

Kalim Al-Asim:

Kalim thought this was going to be fun. Like a game. “Sure! I’ll try it!” he chirped, flashing his bright smile. “This’ll be interesting!”

At level 2, Kalim was still smiling. “It kinda tickles!”

By level 4, his eyes widened. “O-Oh. That’s...that’s a bit tight, huh?”

Level 6 hit, and Kalim’s smile faltered completely. He was gripping the couch cushions, eyes wide with panic. “Wait, wait, wait! It’s like someone’s punching me from the inside!”

Level 8 arrived, and Kalim let out a full-on yelp. “Okay! O-Okay! I-I take it back! This isn’t fun at all!”

You were wheezing with laughter as Kalim squirmed, trying to adjust himself in the chair, like it would somehow lessen the pain. “It feels like my insides are doing a dance but... but not in a good way! Jamil! Help!”

When you finally turned it off, Kalim lay there, panting like he’d just escaped a wild party gone wrong. “Wow. Just... wow. I didn’t know! How do you survive this?”

Rook Hunt:

Of course, Rook approached this experience like everything else in life—with an excessive amount of enthusiasm. “Ah, mon trésor, you wish to grant me the experience of such a unique sensation? Marvelous! I am prepared for anything!”

You hooked him up, and he was practically vibrating with excitement.

At level 2, Rook was still poetic. “Ah, it begins. A subtle whisper of discomfort, like the winds of autumn brushing against one’s skin.”

Level 4. “Ah! A deeper ache, much like the pull of unrequited love! So sharp, so vivid! I feel it in my very core!”

Level 6 hit, and Rook...started sweating. “Oh...oh my, it is as though my very soul is twisting! A veritable storm within me!”

At level 8, Rook clutched his chest dramatically. “Mon dieu! The anguish! How does one continue to live with such torment on a monthly basis? I am in awe of your strength!”

You were practically crying with laughter as Rook, finally humbled, gasped, “Turn it off, s’il vous plaît! My poetic heart cannot take any more of this agony!”

Lilia Vanrouge:

Lilia had lived for centuries. He had fought in wars, seen empires rise and fall, so surely this would be nothing, right? “Ah, this? A pain simulator? How quaint,” he said with a smirk as you set it up.

At level 3, he was still smiling, though you noticed a twitch in his left eye. “Hmph. I’ve had worse.”

Level 5 hit, and Lilia stiffened, his smirk turning into a grimace. “Oh...that’s rather unpleasant.”

Level 7 arrived, and Lilia’s face contorted. He gripped the arms of the chair, his tiny frame shuddering. “This is worse than I thought” he muttered.

At level 9, Lilia—a warrior who had seen millennia—let out a tiny, high-pitched yelp. “STOP! TURN IT OFF! THIS ISN’T RIGHT!”

You immediately turned it off, watching in amusement as Lilia leaned back in his chair, panting. “Well...I didn’t expect that to be my undoing.” He gave you a weary smile. “You are far stronger than I ever gave you credit for.”

Masterlist

[lavandulawrites]

Sumeru’s Damsel In Distress Part 2

Yandere Alhaitham x reader, yandere Cyno x reader, yandere Kaveh x reader, yandere Tighnari x female reader (not separate)

Part 1

Finally finished part two!<3 I apologise for the wait, but something personal happened and I’ve also lacked motivation. Maybe there will be a part three? Maybe not. If you want me to write some scenarios regarding the four of them plus reader do send me a request/ask:)

Synopsis: It has been exactly two weeks since they drugged you and locked you up in the scribe and architect’s home. You still have a sliver of hope for escape.

Masterlist

Warnings: imprisonment, mention of lack of interest in food, obsession, possessiveness, Kaveh is surprisingly eerie

Word count: 1704

The skies outside the window was grey and it was clear that a storm was brimming. You sat at the kitchen table with a cup of orange juice in your hand. The condense on the cool glass making your palms wet. For once you were alone in the kitchen. They normally wouldn’t let you as they were scared you would harm yourself, but after convincing them you wouldn’t hurt yourself they let you be alone from time to time.

The bowl of yogurt in front of you was barely touched. You had lately had little appetite and the thought was of food almost made you sick. You had not told anyone of your captors, knowing that if you did you would stir great concern. Which was the last thing you wanted.

A lonely bird sat atop the tree in the garden and sang a lovely song. You watched as it stretched its little wings and you selfishly wished the two of you switched places.

You turned you attention back to the juice which had gone lukewarm in your hand. You took a sip and let the bittersweet taste fill your senses. It was good, but that was as expected. Cyno had bought it from a new stand in the city which specialised in juice.

The sound of the kitchen door opening snapped you out from your thoughts. You lifted your gaze and were met with red eyes.

“Good morning [Name]. Did you sleep well?” Kaveh greeted as he walked across the kitchen to the cupboards. “Also didn’t we tell you not to close the kitchen door when you are in here by yourself?”

“Sorry… I didn’t want to wake you” you adverted your eyes.

A hand ruffled your hair gently. “It’s okay sweetheart. Just remember it till next time, okay?” Kaveh smiled.

You nodded. “I will” you mumbled.

Kaveh took a seat besides you and looked out of the window. “A storm is coming, huh… Just my luck” he sighed. “I’m supposed to go to the building site of the project I’m working on, but if there’s gonna be a storm I will have to cancel” he groaned as he dragged a hand down his face in frustration.

The kitchen door swung open and in came three men. The fox smiled as his eyes met you. “Good morning [Name]” Tighnari smiled.

“Good morning” you greeted him back with a slight nod.

Cyno noticed your glass of juice and his lips turned up into a smile. “Was the taste to your liking?” he asked as he poured himself a glass.

“Yes. It’s very good” you took a sip.

“Did you sleep alright [Name]?” the tall grey haired man asked you as he prepared himself a portion of oatmeal.

You swallowed as you glanced out of the window. Sleep had been your only escape, but lately you had had horrible nightmares. Your eyes found his again and you pulled your lips back into a tight smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “I did. What about you?”

Alhaitham remained silent for a while as he let his eyes rake over your expression. “Don’t lie to me. There is nothing you should have to hide from me, from us” gestured to the three other men as he shook his head. “And to answer your question, yes I did.”

A hand rested on your shoulder as soft hair tickled your hair as the one behind you leaned down, which startled you. “Why haven’t you finished your yogurt, darling?” Tighnari’s breath tickled your ear.

Fuck. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m just not that hungry…” you slightly shrugged.

He tcked. “That’s no good. You need to eat” he rose a hand and gently stroked your cheek. His skin was warm and comforting. “Should I make you something else?” his voice soft.

“No thank you” you turned your face so you could face him and smiled slightly. You hoped he would let it be.

He was silent for a few heartbeats before he nodded. “I understand” his voice was monotone and it was clear he took note of something.

As the dark haired man left you alone to make himself some breakfast, your eyes met Alhaitham’s calculating gaze. A shiver ran down your spine at the knowing smirk he sent you.

The rest of the day was rather uneventful. You had read some in the many books that adorned the little library in the aesthetically pleasing house. As the night crept closer and heavy rain hammered against the windows, Cyno had convinced you to play some Genius Invokation TCG with him.

You had only played the game a couple of times before this predicament. You had seen Cyno play at the tavern and it was safe to say he was way above your league. Even so he had made you play with him almost every day since you and been imprisoned within Alhaitham and Kaveh’s home. Which had been exactly two weeks today.

The white haired general shuffled the cards with precision. He gave you your cards before he picked up his own. You followed suit. You let your eyes quickly wander over your cards. Nothing good yet.

You rolled the dices and to your surprise you only got the elements you needed. Could today really be the day? You asked yourself as you laid down your card.

Cyno hummed at your move, clearly proud of your improvement. “Good move” he smiled as he placed his card down.

As the two of you continued playing, you couldn’t help but let your mind drift to escape plans. An escape would be nearly impossible, but not impossible (that’s at least what you told yourself). All your captors had extremely high intelligence and various skills that would give you a great disadvantage. The odds weren’t in your favour, not even a little bit, but you still didn’t want to give up.

Maybe you could drug them? That would require you to steal some of Tighnari’s medicine, which was a difficult task as he had hid them well. Plus you didn’t have the medical knowledge to make sedatives if he didn’t have pre-made ones hidden away.

You thought long and hard on your options and the sound of a cleared throat snapped you out of your little schemes.

“Can you explain why this was in your room?” Alhaitham’s voice loud and as sudden as lightning form a clear sky.

You turned your head towards him with shaky hands. You swallowed before you pressed on a small smile. “What do you mean?” you tried to sound unbothered, but one could here a slight shakiness from your voice.

“Why was this in your room?” in his big hand was a screwdriver. The pointy side pointed up towards the ceiling. Long fingers tightly gripped the red handle.

“I don’t know…” you gave an attempt at sounding confused, but judging by the scribes furrowed brows you were unsuccessful.

Cyno had gone completely still from his side of the table before he quickly stood up resulting the chair legs to drag across the floor creating an awful sound. With an blink of an eye he was besides the tall man. Tan fingers took the screwdriver and brought it closer to his flaming eyes. “This is Kaveh’s” his voice no different from what it usually was.

He gave Alhaitham the screwdriver before he stalked towards you. You remained seated in your seat. “Why was this in your room [Name]?” he crouched down so he appeared smaller than you. His eyes boring into yours trying to pry your mind apart.

You opened your mouth, but only a chocked sound escaped you. Your eyes shifted from Cyno to Alhaitham and then back.

“M- Maybe it got left in my room after you renovated it? Before all this” the last part was only a mere whisper, but Cyno had picked it up. He rose to his feet and folded his arms as he looked down at you with a stern expression.

A scoff followed by a chuckle could be heard from your right. “And do you really think we would be so careless?” Alhaitham was clearly amused by your attempt at explaining yourself.

The living room swung open and in stepped Kaveh and Tighnari. “Hi! We were thinking of playing some Uno woul- Is that my screwdriver?” Kaveh’s eyes feel to the tool in the grey head’s hand and to you. His jovial expression was changed to something cold and calculating. With quick steps he was besides Alhaitham. “I have been looking for this…” his voice low as he took the screwdriver in his hand.

Shivers ran down your spine at the blonde’s cold gaze. You gripped the hem of your dress. Your hands were really shaking now.

“What do the meaning of this?” Tighnari’s voice broke the silence. He moved from the door and to your left side. You could feel his eyes even with your face turned downwards.

“I found Kaveh’s screwdriver in her room. Which is weird if you ask me, given how she has no need for it nor is she allowed to handle such dangerous items.”

“[Name] are you trying to escape?” Kaveh asked you coldly. He was right besides you now. You could see it in his eyes that he was angry. The scribe stood behind him, but remained silent.

With a fast motion he gripped your chin and forced your head up. “After all we that have done for you?” his eyes were blown wide in fury and disappointment. “And here I thought we were finally getting somewhere…” he chuckled.

You gulped as ruby eyes stared you down. You tried to think of something to say, but you were at loss for words.

“Maybe we should reduce your privileges” the blond man’s voice were laced with hurt and frustration. He let go of your chin as he rose to his full height.

“I think that’s a good idea” the fox on your left nodded agreement.

You watched as Kaveh pocketed the screwdriver and you felt your heart sink. He eyed you before he turned on his heel and left the living room.

It would take some time to gain back their trust now.

[strawberrylore]

I said I was going to write a story based on how I just got my heart broken and I’m pulling a fanfic move and moving back to my hometown.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Written on phone at 3AM, while heartbroken.

Might suck but feedback and constructive critism is always welcomed. Just be nice.

Possibly might do a part 2. Possible happy ending, depending on the mood I’m feeling.

Song on blast as I’m writing this is August.

You Were Never Mine

You knew it was going to happen. You felt it deep inside, you just chose to ignore it. You held on to false hope, thinking that maybe you were just overthinking it. He had started being distant. You thought that maybe he was just busy, or had a lot on his mind.

But you knew deep down that wasn’t the case. You just hadn’t expected that it had something to do with her.

You thought he had gotten over it, but you were wrong. He was wrong.

But what could you do? You can’t force him to stay. You can’t force him to love you the way you love him. You let him go easily.

But your heart still yearns for him. You hadn’t seen him in a few weeks. He was sent on a mission by Charles. You had planned to tell him that you loved him when he came back. You had wanted to cook him dinner, make something he had always wanted to try.

But when he came back, he didn’t really talk to you. You felt something was off, you had even told your friends back home about it, but you thought it was just that the mission hadn’t gone the way he wanted it to.

But how wrong you were. He had sat you down and told you the heartbreaking news.

“I’m sorry. I thought I was over her, but I was wrong.”

Your world shattered as you heard those words come out of his mouth. Tears instantly clouded your eyes.

“What?”

He looked down and took a deep breath.

“I’m not over her. And I can’t continue on with you if I’m not over her. It’s not fair to you.”

Tears were falling from your eyes. You took a deep breath and putting your head in your hands.

“I’ve been thinking about her. This. For weeks. I’m sorry. I know you didn’t want to hear this but I can’t drag you along.” He tried to take ahold of your hand but you pushed him away. You sat up abruptly.

You didn’t want to face him. You couldn’t, lest you breakdown even further.

“I appreciate your honesty Logan. I really do. Thank you for letting me know before this could’ve turned much more serious.”

In reality, you and Logan had been seeing each other for 4 months. Before that you had feelings for him. But he was with Jean.

They had ended badly. He didn’t date anyone for months but he had asked you out.

You foolishly thought that she wasn’t going to affect him and his relationships anymore.

“In reality Logan. I felt this coming. Just didn’t expect it to be because of her.”

He looked down, he looked guilty.

“I hope you can figure it out Logan. I’m glad you told me. Don’t worry about me. I should’ve been prepared for it.” Your voice failed you, but you didn’t turn to look at Logan’s reaction.

“Again. I’m so sorry.” Logan stood, trying to step closer to you, but you didn’t let him.

“I know. But that’s okay. I can’t force you to be in a relationship when you aren’t in it fully.” You move further, wanting to step out of his room.

“I wish things were different. I really like you, but I know that if we kept going, I’ll only break your heart.” Logan said. He sounded conflicted. But he knew he had to be honest with you.

“I know what you mean. I’m glad you were honest with me.” You started to head out.

“I wish you luck.”

You don’t know why, but that shattered whatever remaining hope that maybe, just maybe, he’ll come to his senses and realize that everything he could ever want was right in front of him. You shake your head, trying to stop yourself from sobbing.

“You as well.”

With that, you stepped out and closed the door behind you.

You went to your room. You didn’t want anyone to see you.

As you got inside, you headed to your bathroom. You turned the sink on and splashed water on your face.

You looked in the mirror, thinking about everything that’s happened. You couldn’t take it anymore and broke down in heavy sobs, falling to the bathroom floor and hugging your knees to your chest.

You wondered why. Why did it always have to be you? You always had the worst of luck finding someone, someone who treated you with respect and love. Then you found the one, only for him to be ripped from you as well.

You couldn’t take it. You needed air.

You got off the floor, you headed to the balcony attached to your room.

You took deep breaths as you tried to calm your crying.

You needed out.

The only reason you had stayed at the mansion was for Logan. You had wanted to go back home, to your friends. To your family. But Logan was the one thing keeping you here.

Now that that’s done, you didn’t have anymore excuses. You had decided right then and there that you were going back home.

[emotionoitme]

nectar of the gods

nectar of the gods - lana del rey

part 2 of don’t call my name

warnings: jealousy, the c word (claire), pervy carmy but that’s a given, date gone wrong (pushy man & use of some force. nothing bad happens), guard dog carmy, small argument. nasty smut: themes of brat tamer carmy, female masturbation, teasing + condescending dirty talk, fingering, squirting, biting, kissing, unprotected sex (oops), slight size kink, he doesn’t choke her but he holds her neck, slight breeding kink, ok maybe not so slight, she gets fucked kind of stupid. 

wc: 9.5k

a/n: thanks so much for the love on part one! let me know what u think of this one!! <3 enjoy the nastiness

playlist

the weeks that followed the soft touches and heated kisses were, to say the least, awkward. 

carmen has never been the strongest communicator, and working long hours at the bear conveniently meant they didn’t really see much of each other. 

unluckily for him, she conveniently seemed to be home when he had invited claire over to talk.

in his defense, it was a late night, heat of the moment decision. one in which he was caught in a weak spot–feeling lonely and, admittedly, thinking obsessively of his roommate. a decision he deeply regretted the following day, when he had checked his messages and saw she said yes. 

claire came over for morning coffee when carmy decided to go into work late. she gave him a enthusiastic greeting when he opened the door, rushing forward to hug him. it didn’t feel right, but he reciprocated. 

“so good to see you, carm,” she told him, warmly. 

“hey, you too,” eyes glancing over to the clock beside the door, “you’re early.” 

she pulled back, smiling. 

“i thought you’d be happy to have more time with me.”

he gestured her in and shut the door. he hadn’t really wanted her to come at all once he woke up, but how could she have known that? 

he felt stupid. 

“i, am” he replied unenthusiastically, “but my, um…. my roommate is still home.” 

“you have a roommate now?” she asked. 

“yeah, just for a while. want to go outside?” he questioned, eyes darting to the stairs. 

“can’t we just sit at the table? it’s cold out.” claire followed his gaze to the staircase. 

he paused, sighing. 

“okay, yeah. let’s sit at the table.” hand running through his hair, pulling slightly. he forced himself to sit and meet her gaze, asking her how she’s been, trying to pay attention. trying to care. 

a few minutes into their conversation, he heard soft footsteps approaching from behind. 

“goodmorning,” his roommate called out, smiling at claire. carmen whipped his head around. she was dressed for work. she looked good. 

“oh. hi,” claire returned, “you’re carmy’s roommate?” the surprise evident in her voice. 

“only short term,” she replied, shooting carmen a glance, “and you are?”

“i’m claire,” she returned with a smile, “i’m his-”

“she’s my friend.” carmy interrupted, watching as claire’s eyebrows shot up at this. 

“umm, we’re a little more than friends,” claire laughed, turning to his roommate, “me and carm have known eachother since we were kids. and we dated for a while, didn’t we, bear?”

he watched as his roommate widened her eyes a bit, nodding.

“how sweet. you guys are so cute together, you should date again,” sickly enthusiasm rung from her voice, “nice to meet you claire, but i’ve gotta get to work.”

“so nice meeting you! i’ll see you around.”

his roommate didn’t respond, quickly walking to the kitchen to grab a thermos of coffee then rushing out the door, letting it slam behind her. 

“she’s cute,” claire complimented, “should i be worried?” her tone joking, but still locking eyes with carmen. he stayed silent, rubbing a hand over his face, then exhaling. 

“listen, claire, you, uh…. you’ve gotta go. i’m sorry for inviting you.” 

“what?”

he left for work as soon as she was out the door, trying to distract himself from the reminder of all the people he had hurt so early in the morning. 

besides that tense interaction, he didn't see his roommate at all for about a week and a half. 

that didn’t mean he wouldn’t still think about her, though. in fact, it felt like he couldn’t focus on anything else—the night of their hungry kisses and gentle touches playing like a loop in his head. 

he thinks of how responsive she was, how her lips felt. how he longed to hear her beg for him. 

almost two whole weeks passed, and he still wasn’t man enough to face her, making sure he was in the restaurant until late at night and out of the apartment extra early in the morning. 

he scrubbed at the stovetop, remembering the smell of her skin. yearning for it. he stood at the expo and barked directions, skin prickling with the memory of her touch. the slight drag of her nails across his abdomen. how eager she was. 

that morning, as the sun just began to flood through the windows, he found himself passing by her room, glancing through the open door. 

he stopped himself as soon as he passed, taking a step backwards to get another look. 

she lay sleeping on her side, facing away from him, one leg resting on top of the duvet. her breath was steadily rising and falling, big shirt was bunched up over her waist, allowing him the pleasure of gliding his eyes along the curve of her bare waist. he savors the moment, gaze gliding down to her hip, then falling on the little blue pair of underwear that clung to her ass. 

and yes, he felt like a creep, but he still continued to stand there and watch her for a few minutes, wishing he could take a picture to remember the captivating sight. 

instead he just forced himself to walk away. 

it’s a long, stressful day of refires, late tickets, and continuous yelling. 

carmen only gets home shy of midnight, basking in the still silence of the apartment as the door latches. he slips his coat off and hangs his keys on the hook—the key hook she put up, after the 5th time he had asked her if she had seen his keys. 

hers were gone, surprisingly. he wonders where she could’ve been at midnight with a nervous uncertainty. 

carmen makes his way to the kitchen, grabbing a cold glass of water before walking over to the couch to collapse. 

the living room was illuminated in a soft lamp light. he loved that there would be lights on when he came home. it felt less lonely, somehow. 

his eyes glance around the room, noting the addition of potted plants, some throw pillows and blankets, art, framed pictures. some of her family, some of his. 

it had thrown him off, a bit, to come home one day, before the awkwardness, to see a framed picture of him and mikey standing on one of the living room’s side tables. he hardly recognized the old picture, studying it with disbelief. on that day, he picked it up and walked to his roommate’s door, knocking softly. 

“come in,” she had called. 

he opened the door, and found her sitting at her vanity, combing her hair. he held up the picture, pointing to it. 

“shit, i’m sorry. i should’ve asked,” she started to explain. 

“-no, no, i was, uh, just a little surprised,” he reassured, “where did you get this from?” 

she set her comb down on the vanity and turned to face him. 

“it was in a box at the back of my closet,” she told him, “lots of pictures. i promise i didn’t go through it. that one was just at the top. and i thought it was sweet. i was just thinking since i have so many up of my family, you would-” 

“-no, yeah. thank you. it was really nice of you,” he admitted, “just caught me off guard.”

she gave him a sympathetic smile. 

he fondly recalls the memory as he studied the decorations. never before had his home felt so much like a home.  

he lets his eyes shut slowly, basking in the comfort of the plush couch. around 20 minutes pass until he hears muffled voices from outside the unit, then the sound of keys fumbling with the lock. 

his stomach drops a little at the thought of having to face her, so he keeps his eyes closed, hoping he could ignore the interaction all together. as the door swings open, he hears her voice. 

“okay, thanks. i’ll see you around,” tiredness evident in her tone. then, a man’s voice. 

“it’s a nice place. what’s the inside like?” 

carmen feels a surge of annoyance. was she bringing men over? 

“it’s, uh, nice too. i have to get up early tomorrow though, so-”

“we had a nice time, right? let’s keep it going.” the man’s tone becomes pushier. carmen’s annoyance turns to anger. who did this douchebag think he was? he hears his roommate release a sardonic chuckle. 

“listen, dude, get out. i’m not interested.” her tone firm and assertive. carmen sits up slightly to peek over the couch. 

“god, i can’t stand women like you,” the stranger retorts, “a $200 check, and you’re not even gonna invite me in?”

carmen watches as she tries to close the door. the man puts his arm out, aggressively pushing it back open. he sits up the rest of the way, having had enough of the interaction. 

“hey fuckhead,” he barks. the stranger’s eyes dart to him, clearly surprised there was another person home. 

“she said get out.” his jaw is tight, eyes wide, staring the man down. “we gonna have a fuckin’ problem?” 

the stranger puts his hands up in defense, taking a step back. 

“hey, no problem here, man. just trying to say goodni-”

she slams the door in his face, latching the deadbolt. the girl lets out a heavy sigh before glancing over to where carmen sits. 

“thanks,” she mumbles, hanging up her keys and taking her jacket off. he glances over the skin-tight long sleeve dress she was wearing. 

“who was that?” he asks immediately, trying to keep the hint of possessiveness out of his voice. she leans down to slide her heels off, glancing up at him. 

“a date.” 

he continues to stare at her, hoping she would elaborate. instead, she ignores him, walking to the kitchen and putting the tea kettle on to boil. he stands and follows her, brow twitching. 

“you, uh, going on dates now?” he questions, hands coming to his hips. 

“yep,” she curtly replies, grabbing a mug from the cabinet and placing a teabag inside. 

“with guys like that, huh? nice.” he scoffs. the man has trouble rationalizing why he feels so aggravated. 

“fuck off, carmen,” she sharply retorts, refusing to turn toward him, “it’s none of your business.”

“it is when you bring them here” he argues. 

“what, like how you brought your little girlfriend over?” she yanks open the fridge and grabs the milk.

“she is not my girlfriend” he asserts. 

the girl rolls her eyes and ignores him, turning the burner off at the sound of the kettle whistling, pouring the hot water into her mug. he moves closer to her, staring at the side of her face.

“she’s not,” he emphasizes. the added pressure makes her feel compelled to respond. 

“well, she’s something to you,” she argues, setting the kettle back down harder than she intended, turning to face him. she immediately wishes she hadn’t, the intensity of his eyes setting her ablaze, skin prickling. it makes her a little weak in the knees to be face to face with him again, as much as she hated to admit it. 

“no, she isn’t, i- fuck…i had this weak moment after…you and i kissed, and it-,” he exhales, pausing. “i didn’t realize how much i missed…that kind of thing. so i invited her over. and immediately fuckin’ regretted it when she said yes.” 

“why?” she asks softly. 

“why’d i regret it?” he clarifies. she nods. 

he takes a small step closer to her. 

“because i don’t want that kind of thing with claire,” he confesses. 

she doesn’t know what to say, instead just watches him, studying his face. she catches the split second his eyes dart down to her lips, and feels what little resolve she has begin to crumble, so she turns away from him, back to her tea, and begins to stir in some milk. 

“okay,” her reply comes softly, “i get it.” 

“yeah?” he presses, eyes locked on her. 

“yeah,” she responds, “i know how it feels. to get…lonely like that. so truce.” 

he lets out a breath of relief, threading his fingers through his hair. 

silence, for a moment. he watches her bring the hot drink up to her lips and take a small sip. carmy is the one to break the silence. 

“is that, uh, the reason you’re going on dates, then?” he pries.

“what, because of loneliness?” she asks, warming her hands on the mug. he gives her a small nod, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. 

“yeah. i guess so” she responds, “with these… weirdos that don’t let me know they’re weirdos until it’s too late.” her gaze fixes on a point in front of her, unfocused. she stays like this for a moment, then breaks her trance, eyes coming to carmy’s face. his sweet and handsome face. 

“i’m really glad you were here, by the way.” she adds softly. 

he doesn’t know what to say for a second, shaking his head. trying to push away the anxiety that came with what could’ve happened to her, had he not been on the couch at that exact moment. 

“yeah. me too.” he replies soberly. she watches his serious expression, eyes locked. the girl can’t help but break out into a grin and softly giggle. she leans back against the counter.

“it was kinda sexy, too,” she quips, “watching you get all mad like that.” 

carmy can’t help the smile that breaks his solemnity.

“fuck off,” he amuses, shaking his head. she begins to laugh. he likes it a lot. 

“seriously,” she presses still smiling, “it was-…i liked it.” she gave a nod of her head. 

he just keeps staring at her with a soft smile on his face.

“well i don’t wanna yell at anyone else. so no more guys over.”

“oh yeah?” her tone teasing, “it’s kind of your fault that i even went on a date in the first place” she chimes, taking another sip of tea. 

“my fault?” he asks, eyebrows lifting. 

“yeah. i mean, i wouldn’t have to if you weren’t such a…fucking tease.” she tells him, smiling against the lip of her mug

that was the last thing he expected her to say, letting out a small scoff at her bluntness. 

“i’m the tease?” he asks in disbelief. if only she knew the relentless battles he fought internally from the second he first saw her. she’d been teasing him without knowing it for weeks. 

“you wanted me to beg,” she reminds him, “and then, you left me. i had to fend for myself.” 

he knew. he could hear her through the door. 

“yeah, uh,” he fights the smile that creeps onto his face, “sorry about that.” 

“that’s okay,” she replies, “cause i’m gonna give you payback.” 

“payback?” he amuses, eyes creeping down her face, briefly falling to her chest and admiring the scoop neck dress she wore. okay, maybe not briefly. 

she nods, stepping forward into his personal space, only inches apart. his eyes dart back up to meet hers.  she keeps her gaze locked with his and slides her fingers under his white shirt, ghosting over the deep cut lines of his hips. 

carmen’s breath stills as she hooks the waistband of his pants, leaning in to softly kiss his neck. she peppers sweet kisses up to his ear, then gently catches his lobe in between her teeth. her hands trail up, splaying across his stomach and feeling the firm muscle. carmen clenches his teeth as her lips begin moving along the base of his jaw. 

she had barely touched him and yet that burning sensation begins to creep up his skin. 

once her lips make it to his chin, she straightens and pulls him into her. 

he feels his breath skip.  

the girl hovers her lips over his, giving him only a light impression of touch. the front of her body is flush against his, and she can feel his hardness pressing into her. 

carmy knows exactly what she’s doing, and he doesn’t feel entirely enthusiastic about being teased. 

he glides his hand under her jaw, fingers carding through her hair and resting near the base of her skull. he grabs it tightly and she lets out a soft whimper, lips parting. the sound is too sweet for him to maintain his composure—he wants to taste it. 

carmen pulls her into his lips impatiently, relishing the supple feeling of her mouth. their lips lock together desperately, kisses in tandem. with a last, slow kiss she pulls away with a small grin on her face. his hand still entangles with her hair, eyed fixated on her lips. 

“that all you gonna give me?” he grumbles lowly.

she nods, “mmhm,” and her lip catches between her teeth. 

his free hand comes to grab her side, thumb pressing into her hip bone. she arches into his touch, lids heavy, body increasingly hot. he meets her eyes. 

“you’re…” he exhales, smile creeping at the edges of his lips, “you’re a little brat. y’know that?”  

“you like it,” she argues softly.

she’s wrong, he thinks, he loves it. 

she smooths her hand up his abdomen, fingers pressing into the firm muscle. he tenses under the rousing touch, then groans as she gently drags her nails down the length of his stomach. 

she feels his bulge twitch against her pelvis.

the girl smiles at this, satisfied with her work of payback. she doesn’t give him a chance to respond before she pulls away completely. 

he blinks a few times, processing the loss of heat, watching as she turns to walk out of the kitchen.

he almost follows her, too, but stops in his tracks when she calls goodnight. 

fucking tease. 

-

it was after 1am by the time the girl had showered and completed her nighttime routine, peeling back her duvet and slipping into the silky sheets. 

she tried desperately to clear her mind over the past hour, having difficulty thinking of anything besides her roommate. anything besides how much she had turned herself on in the process of “payback”. 

she lays flat on her back, then turns to her side. then she turns to the other side. then flat on her stomach. the girl releases a sigh of frustration. nothing was comfortable. every inch of her body felt hot. carmy’s lips felt so fucking good. 

the heater is too loud. the streetlights are shining through the curtains. she wants to take him inside of her. 

her hand sneaks underneath the duvet, brushing over her hardened nipples, trailing down her stomach and creeping under the waistband of her panties. 

she thinks about how much she liked kissing him as she begins to drag her finger through her folds. she thinks about how he would always hold himself back. it was easy to tell—he would tighten his jaw and his eyes would get dark, giving her this look at her as if he wanted to devour her whole. she feels herself getting wet, beginning to circle around her clit, frustration at the dull ache within that seemed incurable no matter how much she tried to pleasure herself. 

the girl feels so desperate laying in her bed that she decides she would take whatever carmen would give her.

even if that meant having to beg for it. 

she rips her hand out of her panties and flings the duvet off of her, sharply exhaling as the cool surrounding air kisses her skin. she throws her legs over the side of the bed and stands up. maybe a cold glass of water would help. 

the temperature drops as she exits her room. clad in only underwear and a cropped tank top, goosebumps begin to rise on her skin

as she makes her way down the hallway, curious eyes land on carmen’s cracked door. she stops and takes a peek inside. 

the outside streetlights flood in through his window too, yet there he lay sleeping heavily, completely unbothered. 

she pushes the door open a little more, just out of curiosity. 

he lay on his back, shirtless, with an arm thrown over his face, chest rising and falling steadily. watching him did nothing more than worsen the desire she felt. 

she inches into the room almost uncontrollably, coming to stand next to his bed. 

before she gains enough sense to turn away and leave, she peels back his sheets and slides in next to him. the man shifts a bit, then settles back into his slumber. 

she feels kind of creepy just watching him, but he looks so incredibly handsome in his relaxed state, his plump lips parting with soft exhales. 

she feels such little control over herself, thinking of how she wants to feel him. wants to taste his skin. 

fuck it.

she slowly pulls the sheets down and off of him. he’s wearing a pair of boxer briefs and she can’t help but release a breath of anticipation at the sight. she leans forward and crawls over his sleeping form, straddling him, hands coming to his chest. 

she watches as his head turns and his arm falls from his face, eyes blearily blinking open. 

his eyes meet hers, a stunned expression on his face. 

carmen thinks he’s dreaming at first—the sight above him all too similar to the filthy dreams he had been having lately. 

“uh, hey” he hesitates, voice deep and raspy, heavy with sleep. 

“hi,” she whispers. 

his eyes scan over her form and take in her position. her lack of clothes. she can feel him growing beneath where she sits. 

the girl smiles, giggling softly. 

a lazy smirk grows on his face at this, and he closes his eyes again.

“fingers not doin’ it for you anymore?” 

“shut up,” she retorts, slightly embarrassed. she hates how he knows. “i just wanted to…come see if you were sleeping well,” 

carmy opens his eyes again and his smirk morphs to a grin, arms folding behind his head.

“i was” he confirms, lazily blinking, “but then i got, uh, woken up.” 

“sorry” she sweetly exhales, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “i, um…” her eyes rake down his handsome face, losing her lame excuse completely. she’s silent, zeroed in on his lips with an overwhelming urge to kiss him. she watches them morph to a smile. 

“c’mere,” he whispers, tilting his chin up a bit. she follows his command, almost as if in a trance, leaning forward to capture his lips in a gentle kiss.

it feels blissful, almost like everything besides the two of them fades away. 

soft kisses become deep and the gentleness seems to fade as soon as it starts. the pair mutually quicken the pace of the kisses. they become messier, more desperate. 

the girl leans into him, hand coming to the side of his neck, the other caressing his collarbones. 

carmy chases her increasingly desperate kisses, gripping her hips with both hands, cherishing the feeling of her skin. 

the girl slips her tongue into his mouth and gently moans at the feeling, with which he reciprocates, indulging in the taste of her. his fingers press into her bruisingly. 

she rocks her hips against him. the sensation shoots a spark through her spine, so she continues to rock back and forth, grinding against his bulge, moaning softly into his mouth. 

carmen kisses her roughly, gripping her hips tighter, pulling and pushing her across the length of his cock. 

her panties feel slick, core feels tight, beginning to speed up her gyrations. she can feel the head of his cock through his briefs, and quickly becomes lost in the pleasure, kissing him with a ferocity she hasn’t felt in a long time.

the sensation is incredible to carmen, becoming more pent up by the second. 

she bucks her hips wildly. it feels so fucking good.

he mindlessly tightens his grip on her hips further, and her kisses quickly stop. hips stop. with a sharp inhale and a soft “ow,” her hand comes to his wrist. 

he immediately releases his grip, eyes snapping open. 

“shit, i’m sorry,” he hurriedly apologizes, smoothing his hands over the yet-to-appear bruises—a reminder of why he had tried to force himself to take it slowly with her. “y’okay?” he couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“mhmm,” she confirms, leaning down to give him a soft kiss of reassurance. “so strong,” she murmurs into his lips. he releases the breath he was holding, hands still on her hips. 

“can hardly fuckin’ control myself with you.” he admits guiltily.

“then don’t,” she replies softly, sitting upright. 

carmen’s hand falls over his face, sighing. his fingers card through his messy hair, eyes scanning over the girl. a soft smile twitches at the edge of his lips. 

the young woman sucks in a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves from the moment. her fingers thread under the edge of her tank top, and without saying anything, she slowly peels it over her head. 

carmen groans at the reveal, and she feels a twitch underneath her. his hand comes to grab the side of her waist, thumb stroking over her stomach. he stares at her breasts in awe, trying desperately to memorize the dreamlike sight above him. 

“you’re beautiful,” he marvels, hand sliding up her stomach to her ribs, “y’know that?” fingertips grazing the underside of her breast. 

goosebumps rise on her skin from the light touch. 

“touch me,” she tells him impatiently, pushing her chest out further as to emphasize. 

the man lets out a small scoff at her tone, but gives in, cupping her breast and giving it a soft squeeze. he runs his thumb over her raised nipple, giving it a gentle pull. 

she exhales harshly. it feels as if her blood had become hot, biting down on her lip to refrain from making noise. 

carmy brings his hand to her other breast and repeats: a soft caress, then squeeze, then a tug of her nipple, harder this time. she bucks her hips at this, whimper muffled by the tightness of her teeth around her lip. carmen lets out a soft groan at the momentary friction. 

he can feel the heat from her core over his thinly clothed erection as he touches her. the man marvels at her flushed skin, the curve of her breasts, the shape of her stomach, the expression of pleasure on her face. 

she finds herself aching for the friction of a moment ago, giving another testing buck of her hips. so good.

her hands plant on his chest and she continues to slowly grind back and forth against him. the perfect angle causes her bottom lip to release from her teeth, a moan spilling out into the silence. 

carmen keeps his hands pinned to his sides as he watches her closely, clamping his teeth together, clutching his fists. anything to keep himself from spinning her around and fucking her senseless. 

the girl continues to grind against him, one hand planted on his chest and the other coming up to grab her breast. she’s completely blissed out, but carmen feels hungry—her teasing movements not fully satiating. he can feel her wetness begin to seep through and slick the fabric of his boxers. 

“jesus, you’re fuckin’ killing me,” he strains, feeling his patience wear thin, “do something.” sounding almost like a plead.

she smiles, head falling back in pleasure, continuing to chase her high. her eyelids flutter at the pleasure, rocking back and forth.

carmy groans her name, followed by a “c’mon.” 

“ask nicely” comes her taunt, followed by a breathy laugh, continuing to pleasure herself. 

carmen decides he’s done playing with her. he plants his arm on the bed and sits up quickly, pushing her back against the bed, watching her eyes snap open to protest the loss of pleasure. 

“quiet,” he demands, cutting her off. she shuts her mouth, a look of disappointment on her face. he dips down to nuzzle her neck and hide his forming smile, peppering gentle kisses into her skin. her smell is almost intoxicating. carmen grips her waist as he kisses her neck slowly trailing down to her collarbones. he hooks his thumb into the side of her panties and shuffles them down her thighs. 

the girl breathes heavily, skin tingling in the wake of his touch. 

the man dips his hand into her panties, fingers slipping between her folds, feeling her wetness. 

“fuck,” he growls into her neck, “all this for me?” beginning to slowly circle her clit, the noise of her slickness like music to the man. 

she stays quiet, eyelids as heavy as her breathing. 

“hm? c’mon” he pushes, coming up from her neck and looking her in the eye, “tell me, pretty girl.” 

the name causes her chest to flutter, allowing a soft whimper to spill from her lips. the intensity of the sensation in tandem with his eye contact makes her feel dizzy. makes her less embarrassed about showing appreciation. 

“s’all for you, carm” she softly moans.

his fingers continue softly circling around the bundle of nerves, every few moments dipping into her opening to collect more wetness. 

she teases down his abdomen and slips into his briefs, wrapping around his erection. 

carmen softly groans, then inserts a finger, beginning to drag it in and out along her walls. she softly gasps at the feeling, and he can feel her squeeze his cock. 

“more,” she demands softly, starting to stroke him. 

he obeys, inserting a second finger, feeling more resistance now. she gasps. 

he plants a gentle kiss on her cheek, then shuffles down to kiss at her breasts. down where she couldn’t stroke him anymore. the loss of her touch feels cold, so he fucks her with his fingers a little faster to make up for it.

as he sucks her nipple into his mouth, she can feel her juices trickling down her thighs and onto the bed, a bit embarrassed about the mess she can feel herself making on his sheets. 

wet squelching sounds start to reverberate through the quiet room as carmy speeds his fingers up, softly nipping at her perked bud. the girl claps a hand over her mouth, muffling a boisterous moan. 

“hand off,” he growls, sending her a warning glance. she ignores him and closes her eyes, continuing to muffle her sounds of desperation, biting into her hand. 

his jaw clenches, and he pauses his movements. with his free hand he grabs her one wrist, then the other, and pins them over her head. 

the girl’s eyes snap open, and she attempts to fight against his single-handed hold. she gives her best effort, but in her weakened state her struggles do nothing against the man’s strength, so she just huffs. 

carmen scoffs at this, towering over her, beginning to slowly resume the movement of his fingers inside of her. he watches her face closely as he continues—studying the way her eyelids flutter, how her lips part, how her breathing picks up again, how she tries so desperately to hold onto her moans by biting into the flesh of her lips. 

he draws his fingers completely out of her, then slowly reinserts them, curling upwards and beginning to rhythmically thrust them into her. she releases the hold of her lip with a loud moan, unable to stifle it at the new positioning of his fingers. he smiles, having accomplished his goal. his fingers curl further into her. 

the girl begins to feel a bit of panic, an intense and unfamiliar sensation building up within her stomach. not an orgasm, but a deep, hot, wet feeling. with her arms pinned above her head, all she can do is take it.  

carmen speeds up the motion, thumb coming to brush against her clit. 

“fuck!” she yelps, arching into his touch. her mouth falls open, unashamed moans starting to pour out. his pace is relentless, and it feels too good to try and refrain anymore. 

“yeah?” he asks, tone cool and calm, getting a sick type of pleasure from watching her unravel beneath him. he curls his fingers up further, hand becoming soaked with her arousal. 

“mmh-carm, that’s-” she’s cut off by another whine, gaze flickering down to where he was rhythmically pounding his fingers into her. “ah-you…mmmh sogood,” she babbles, completely lost in his touch. 

carmy feels his composure crumbling, groaning at the way she was reacting. 

“c’mon, baby, let go,” he growls, palm sloppily smacking against her clit as he drives his fingers into her. her eyes roll back a bit, and with a final few curls of his fingers she does exactly what he says and lets go, giving into the sensation. the hot, wet tightness within her core bursts, flooding throughout her whole body. 

“fuuckk” she hears him groan, his voice seeming distant. 

her muscles convulse with orgasm, eyes tightly shut and mouth open. everything feels so wet. his fingers slow in pace, remaining deeply lodged inside her, releasing the grip of her wrists from overhead. 

it seems as if the only thing she can concentrate on is trying to remember how to breathe. as she struggles to blink her eyes open, she’s met with a handsome face that stares back at her with what seems like both shock and amazement.

“whathappened?” she jumbledly breathes out. 

he just groans again, dipping down to kiss the girl, big hand grabbing her face. his fingers are wet and sticky on her face. she eagerly reciprocates his kiss, hands coming to feel his chest, a pulsing in her lower stomach. 

carmy plants a kiss to her cheek then sits upright again. she pushes herself up onto her forearms, attempting to reorient. her gaze comes to where he kneels, then falls on the dark spot on the sheets that surrounds them, as if something had spilled. her brows furrow as she pulls her eyes back up to carmy. his face is flushed and pupils dilated, gripping onto the backs of her thighs. 

“you, uh…. god that was fucking hot,” he says with an unwavering stare. 

“did i do that?” she gasps, “fuck, i’m sorry, i’ve never-” hand coming over her mouth in embarrassment, “i’ll wash your sheets. or buy you new ones.” her face turns hot and red. 

he swipes his fingers over her opening, collecting her wetness, then sucks them into his mouth. 

her eyes widen, watching him savor the taste of her. 

“carm, say something,” she begs, still partially mortified. 

“you taste good,” he replies, pulling her closer by her thighs. there’s an animalistic glint in his eyes. 

“not about that,” she looks away out of embarrassment. 

“m’gonna make you do it again,” he strains, pulling down the band of his boxers and allowing his erection to spring free. he works to shuffle them down his thighs.

her short-lived embarrassment dissipates completely at the sight of his cock. he’s thick, and slightly curved, throbbing with arousal, emerging from a dark bush of curls. her breath hitches, and she almost moans at the sight, instinctively spreading her legs further apart for him.

carmen grabs a pillow and lifts her legs, tucking it under her tailbone and pulling her in closely. he begins to glide his head in between her folds, collecting her slick. he nudges against her clit, and she gasps, covering her mouth.  

“y’okay?” he checks, locking eyes with her. she nods her head. 

“mhm, just….be gentle,” she pleads, “please,” slightly intimidated by his girth. 

“i will be,” he nods, giving her a sincere look, “promise.”

she nods back, a signal to go ahead. 

carmy pushes against her opening, slipping his head in slowly. they release a breathy moan in tandem.

he pushes forward until he finds resistance at less than halfway in.  

“fuck,” she pants, hand flying up to grab his wrist. 

“doin’ so good,” he praises, “tell me when you want me to keep going.”

the girl nods, eyes shutting tightly, trying to adjust to the imposing stretch. she releases her grip on him, trailing her fingers down her body to rub circles into her clit. she feels herself relax a bit at the pleasure as carmy’s eyes stay glued to her, watching her every move with enthusiasm. her slow circles speed up ever so slightly, letting out a gentle moan, droopy eyes coming to meet those of the man above her. it feels so good, and she clenches around him. the only thing that would make it better would be-

“kiss me,” she pleads. 

he studies her swollen lips, flushed face, sweet doe eyes—he can’t help but mindlessly obey, caging her with his forearms.

the intoxicating mix of carmen’s kisses and the work of her fingers help her relax. the grip on his wrist loosens, and carmen is able to fully sink in. he pushes forward until his hips are completely flush with hers, moaning into her mouth. she matches it with a gasp. 

the girl can’t believe how full she feels. It’s almost hard to breathe, nails digging into carmy’s bicep. he pulls away from the kiss, thumb coming to stroke the side of her cheek. 

“doin’ okay?” he asks softly. 

she has to take a moment to find her words, overcome with a dizzy head high. 

“fuck, it’s s-so big,” she stammers, both hands now gripping onto his biceps for dear life. 

he can’t help the surge that runs through him at her words, small smirk tugging at the edge of his lip. 

“yeah?” 

“mmhmmm.”

“too much f’you? want me to take it out?” he teases, knowing full well what her answer would be. 

“no!” her eyes snap open “so good, carmy. want you to fuck me.” 

he groans. 

“give it a sec. play with ‘yrself some more. fuckin’ gripping me down there.”

her chest flutters at the sound of his voice—the low growl of it that seemed to resonate through her bones. 

“please,” she begs, pressing a kiss to his lips, “want it so bad,” another kiss, “i can take it.” 

he tightens his jaw, feeling his cock twitch inside of her at the desperation in her tone. 

“you tell me if it’s too much, okay?” he asserts, hand grabbing her waist to steady himself, sitting up. she eagerly nods her head. 

carmy begins to slowly ease out, his length dragging along her tight walls, then pushes his hips forward gently, sinking into her fully. her mouth falls open, a whiny breath spills out. 

he repeats this again, this time snapping his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt. her hands smooth up his biceps and wrap behind his neck, tangling in his hair. she pulls him down to her lips, and kisses him with frenzy, then peppers kisses along his cheek and jawline.

the man swears he’s miraculously died and gone straight to heaven, even though he hadn’t been to church in ages. 

the way she smells, the feeling of her lips trailing along his face, the fucking vice grip her pussy wrapped around him with. it’s all like heaven. 

he moves slowly, rolling his hips to softly thrust in and out of her. 

the girl responds enthusiastically, bucking her hips up to accommodate him further. it feels incredible, but it’s not enough for either of them. 

he wants to be gentle with the girl, try and counter the thoughts that pop in his head whenever he looks at her. he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stop himself if he gives in. 

so he forces himself to take it slow. and gentle and sweet. 

but the girl keeps bucking her hips up to take more of him, frustrated that he won’t get the message.

“faster,” she whines, placing a few more kisses along his face. 

he ignores her, leaning down to nuzzle her neck. his hand trails downwards, wedging it in between them to lightly rub her clit. his pace stays lazy and soft, kissing her neck. 

“carmy,” she complains, fingers carding up through his hair, “give it to me.”

he just ignores her, slowing the pace of his fingers and biting her neck. 

she gasps and yanks his hair.  

“fuck me already,” she huffs, pout on her lips. 

he growls into her neck, then pulls back, looking at her. his eyes had grown dark, eyebrows slightly twitching. a completely different expression than the soft one he wore previously. 

this one was much hungrier. 

he sits straight up, pulling her legs to be flush with his shoulders, then he practically bends her in half, hands pressing down on the backs of her thighs. 

she flushes at the new position, feeling entirely vulnerable, but too overwhelmed with lust to do anything about it. she goes to say something, but he cuts her off by snapping his hips against hers, driving himself deeply inside of her. her mouth falls open into an o shape, taken aback by the sudden change in angle. she can feel every inch of him this way, so fucking full she can’t even seem to form a thought. 

carmen eases out of her, then sinks inside again, hips slamming against hers. this time she lets out a throaty gasp, eyes droopy, completely transfixed by the sight of him above her. his chest was flushed, a light sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. she wanted to lick it off. his messy curls bounce in time with his movements. 

he pulls back again, and snaps his hips forward, releasing a deep groan. 

she feels too full to make any sounds besides the needy gasps that pour plentifully from her lips. 

carmy smirks down at the girl, studying her blissed out expression with a sense of pride as he continually thrusts into her. his eyes fall to watch her breasts bounce in conjunction with his thrusts, and he can’t help but grab one, squeezing, brushing his thumb over her perked nipple. she arches into his touch. 

he increases his pace, hips beginning to drive into her harder. 

she can feel herself slipping into a cloudy haze, the consistent slap of his hips against hers almost meditative, a red hot pleasure circulating through her whole body. 

“look at me,” he orders, tweaking her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

she didn’t even realize she had shut her eyes, forcing them back open to meet his gaze. 

he slides his fingers down her stomach, over her pubic hair, coming to rub her clit. slick noises fill the room as his movements are eagerly met with more and more wetness. 

she studies his handsome face, watches how his eyebrows scrunch, how he bites down onto his lip and flares his nostrils ever so slightly. she wants to have his babies, she thinks in her haze. in that moment she would willingly take anything he gave her. 

she opens her mouth to express her gratitude, but all that comes out is a loud moan. 

“yeah? y’like that?” he asks, hiking her leg further up onto his shoulder. 

“mm-hmmm,” she cries in between breaths, wincing at how deep he was going, but somehow wanting even more. 

“tell me, pretty girl. use those words.” he plants a kiss to the inside of her ankle and keeps thrusting into her. 

“fuck,” she cries, “so good, carm. sososo good.”

his circles around her clit speed up, and the pleasure pushes her to continue, embarrassment out the window. 

“love it,” she gasps, “i love it. you fuck me so good,” beginning to babble, “please don’t stop. please don’t ever stop.” 

a grin breaks his face at this, and he drives into her faster, a wet slapping resounding through the room. he kisses her ankle again, then her foot. 

“whatever you want,” he tells her sincerely. “fuckin’ perfect, y’know that?” another kiss on her foot, “like you were fuckin’ made for me.”

she opens her mouth, but her rationality kicks in and thinks it might be too early to ask him to put a baby in her. she opts to take a less direct approach. 

“cum in me,” a breathy plead, “please,” locking eyes with him. he gives a slight shake of his head, surprised by her words. surprised by how mindlessly he wants to obey. 

“fuck,” he enunciates, “you know i can’t.” the justification of why barely makes it to his mind, overcome with the flood of arousal from her words. 

“i want it,” she whines. her legs slip from his shoulders and wrap around his back, pulling him in close. he releases a groan, sinking further into her, slowing his movements and beginning to punctuate his thrusts. he leans down and kisses her neck. 

“i said no,” he growls, “be fuckin’ good.”

she bites his shoulder. hard enough to sting. 

“ah-f’you keep acting like a brat i’m gonna fuck you like one,” he warns, hands holding her firmly in place. 

she grins, then bites him again, this time on his bicep. and much harder. 

carmen feels himself run out of patience, sitting up and pulling out of her. he shuffles off the bed and stands, and before she can open her mouth to complain, he yanks her up by the arm. his hand presses on her upper back and shoves her into the mattress, grabbing her hips and lifting her to arch to his liking. 

the girl feels slightly humiliated by the vulnerable position, yet finds it does nothing but make the tingling heat of her body intensify. 

she notices her cheek is wet—he had shoved her face first into the spot she made earlier. at this, she lets out an unenthusiastic groan. 

“yeah well, i told you to fuckin’ behave,” he responds, collecting some of her slick and coating it over his cock, stroking a few times. “was tryin’ to go easy on you.” he begins to press the head into her, eliciting a breathy sigh. “but you don’t want me to, huh?” he sinks the rest of the way in. “you’ve been wanting me to give it to you rough, yeah?” 

he buries himself to the hilt, and she gasps, feeling fuller than she ever thought possible. 

“no,” comes her breathy protest into the mattress. he wasn’t wrong. at all. but she had too much pride to admit it, so instead she argues. 

carmy scoffs.

“yeah? that why you’re fuckin’ soaking me? cause you don’t want it?”

he pulls back, dragging along her walls, then thrusts forward. the girl yelps, and takes a deep breath. 

“i’m not,” comes her sharp retort, forearms coming to the bed and pushing herself up. 

carmen drags his fingers up her inner thigh, collecting some of her juices that had trickled down, wordlessly holding them in front of her so she could see. 

her cheeks feel hot. she doesn’t say anything, instead turns her face away from his glistening fingers. he grabs her jaw and pulls her back, pushing his coated fingers into her mouth. the girl makes a noise of disagreement, but doesn’t move away. she swirls her tongue around him, sucking his fingers clean. 

he was right, she does taste sweet. 

carmy drags his fingers out of her mouth slowly, catching her lip on the way down, and wraps around her neck, pressing gently. only enough to remind her who was in charge. 

she willingly submits to the pleasure, arching back against him, growing impatient with his lack of movement. 

she begins to ease herself forward, then rock back onto him selfishly, working to help alleviate some of the pressure that had built within her. 

he lets her, for a moment, admiring the way she bounces against him, watching as she desperately tried to satiate herself. 

he leans forward to plant a kiss to her cheek, fingers still wrapped around her throat, and begins to drive his hips forward to match her movements. 

“yes,” she cries, hoping to god he wouldn’t stop again.  

he doesn’t, continuing to rhythmically thrust into her, filling her up and stretching her out. her hand flies down to her clit and begins softly rubbing, keeping in time with the movement of his hips. she can’t help the plentiful sounds that spill from her lips—sounds of motivation for the man. 

carmen, on the other hand, clenches his teeth together tightly and anchors himself by gripping her hip with his free hand, leaning over her. 

he’s wanted to cum since the second he slipped into her, actively working to refrain and make it last as long as possible. 

her juices begin to flow uncontrollably, completely covering his cock, sticking to his pubic hair. 

everything was wet, and hot, and felt so fucking good. 

the man wants to stay in this very moment for eternity, he thinks.

a particularly deep thrust makes the girl cry out voraciously, a primal cry that seemed to ignite something in him. 

his hand moves from her hip to her upper arm and he pulls her upright. she leans her head against his shoulder, and he wraps a strong arm around her torso, hand coming to hold her neck once again. 

the girl can barely support herself, legs trembling as carmen beings to increase the ferocity of his thrusts. the new angle situates him impossibly deeper—that familiar deep, wet feeling of heat starting to re-emerge within her stomach. his free hand trails down to her clit to help her climb higher.

carmy’s thrusts begin to cause wet squelching sounds. she completely loses herself in the sensation, mind blank with bliss, feeling tears begin to leak from her eyes. 

he grabs her jaw and plants a rough kiss on her cheek. his lips become wet with her tears. 

“that feel good, baby?” he hums into her skin, bucking up into her relentlessly. 

“so good, carm,” she cries, gripping onto his arm for dear life, “love it. so so good.” 

“fuck” he growls, shifting his hips further up into her, eliciting a yelp from the girl. 

“thank you,” she mindlessly moans, “thankyouthankyouthankyou.”

he grins, grabbing her jaw tighter. another rough kiss on her cheek. 

“where’d that fuckin’ attitude go, huh?” plowing forward into her, biting her neck. 

she just whimpers, body falling limp against him. he effortlessly holds her up right where he wants her and continues drilling his hips forward. 

“carmy, i’m- ah,” her mouth agape, “‘sgonna happen again,” she warns. he maintains his relentless pace, skin slapping against hers. 

“let it go, pretty girl. i got you,” he assures, face scrunching, muscles tightening, trying to keep his own orgasm at bay long enough to pull her through. 

with a primal cry of pleasure, she does exactly what he says and lets go. 

it’s a flood of heat through her body, a release so satiating she thinks she‘ll be addicted for life. her vision goes spotty, ears start ringing, mind becoming numbingly empty for a moment. her fingernails leave marks along carmen’s arm from how hard she grips, using him as her last remaining tether to reality. 

her breathing becomes rapid, body overstimulated with his continual thrusts. it’s almost too much, and then it’s nothing at all, feeling him pull out with a loud groan. feeling warm ropes shoot across her lower back. feeling him gently lower her down onto the wet bed. feeling her legs start to shake as the orgasm begins to subside. 

a few moments go by. she feels a cold wet rag clean off her back. she feels his hand rub over her ass, feeling it be squeezed. she doesn’t move. she can’t move. 

“hey.” 

his voice is so distant, sounding like he’s talking through a tin can. she feels him push her onto her side. she feels him smooth her hair out of her face.

she can’t seem to open her eyes. 

she can’t even seem to breathe without panting.

her entire body feels tingly. 

“hey,” comes again, this time a little closer, “y’okay?” 

she can’t respond. It’s like she forgot how to vocalize. 

carmen gently pats the side of her face. she doesn’t respond, so he does it a little harder. her eyes blink open at the soft smacks. 

her eyes meet his. they’re so blue, hazed with a slight expression of worry. 

“hi,” she whispers once she’s found her words. he’s so handsome, she thinks. his cheeks are flushed. his lips are swollen. 

“hi,” he softly smiles, “y’okay? was that too much?” 

she shakes her head no, a blissed out grin forming on her face. 

“mm. i liked it. a lot,” she tells him earnestly. 

“yeah? earlier you were saying you loved it,” he teases, smoothing her hair back behind her ear. she opens her mouth to respond but shuts it, rolling her eyes. 

there was that attitude again, carmen thinks to himself. 

“your bed is wet,” she complains, rolling onto her back and pushing herself up onto her forearms. 

“who’s fault is that?” he asks, an eyebrow lifting. 

she holds onto his bicep and pulls herself up, sitting on the edge of the bed. he sits next to her. 

“yours,” she responds. 

he scoffs. 

“it is,” she huffs, head resting on his shoulder, “i’ve never done that before. it felt…crazy.” 

the comment makes him feel big headed, a surge of pride and possessiveness that he’s the only one who’s ever made her feel that way. he doesn’t say it, though. just wraps his arm around the girl and kisses her head. 

a quiet settles between them. the yellow of the streetlights through the window gives the room a dreamlike glow. the time on the clock shows that it’s an ungodly hour to be awake. carmen thinks of taking a personal day. 

“wanna take a shower?” she asks softly, leaning up to kiss his neck, hand on his thigh. 

“that-” he exhales as she nips his neck, “sounds really nice,” his own hand coming to cover hers. his were so big comparatively. another moment of quiet. 

“i don’t think i can stand,” she admits, breaking the silence. he lets out a laugh. 

-

the silky sheets wrap around entangled limbs, draping the two lovers in a soft sleepy haze. 

the girl had to offer her own bed up for sleeping arrangements, given that carmen’s bed was completely soaked. 

their legs intertwine, feet rub together, skin smooths against skin as they lay facing each other. 

the cracked window allows an early november chill to sweep through the room. the girl gives a small shiver, and carmy pulls the blanket up over her bare shoulder, wrapping his arm around her back. 

they remain in a comfortable silence, both nearly delirious in the early hour, but too giddy to fall asleep. 

she studies his face in the close proximity, eyes smoothing over the small scar on his cheek, the light freckles that scatter his skin, the alluring curve of his nose. 

it feels almost as intimate as their shared shower, where they had tenderly washed each other’s hair and studied each other’s nudity in the light. he had called her beautiful. she returned the compliment. he held her up in the shower on account of her shaky legs, kissing her lovingly under the stream of the hot water, fingers gripping onto her as if he was scared she’d vanish into thin air. 

all that she was scared of happening had happened. she found herself completely infatuated with the man, the mere thought of him making her stomach flutter.

she tries to push it out of her mind, as she lay studying his face, that she only had a little over a month before she would leave chicago. as much as she tried to push it away, though, it came back. 

she doesn’t realize she’s furrowing her brows until carmen reaches up to touch her forehead, smoothing his thumb over the scrunch. 

she meets his eyes, and immediately feels a soothing sensation. 

his hand slides down the side of her face and cups it, thumb rubbing over her lip. 

“whatcha thinkin’ about?” he asks softly. 

she stays quiet for a moment, not sure how to express herself, chewing on her lip trying to piece together her words. he gently pulls it from between her teeth, his eyes fixed on her face, studying every emotion. 

she takes a deep breath. 

“i really like you, carmy,” her admission comes as a whisper. 

a tear escapes down her cheek, and she feels stupid because of it. 

“hey,” he soothes, thumb swiping away the stray tear, “c’mere.”

he pulls her into an embrace, arms engulfing her smaller frame. he rubs her back, and presses a kiss to the top of her head. 

“this about california?” the man asks after a moment. 

she doesn’t answer, just nuzzles her face into his neck. 

“we still have some time, yeah?” he consoles, “and it won’t be forever. you can come back and visit.” 

he stays positive, partially to reassure himself as well. 

“okay,” she murmurs into his neck, pressing herself closer to him. 

she thinks it might’ve been a mistake to have started something she can’t finish. 

it might’ve been a mistake to even entertain the idea at all. 

but even still, he’s so warm, smells so nice, feels so incredibly safe. 

he runs his fingers through her hair and kisses her temple, holding her tightly. 

it feels so good she thinks it can’t be a mistake. 

right?

next part