#the class starts tonight (in around an hour as of posting this)

[wanderingmind867]

Pretty much ever since my mom died (give or take), I've been taking these online social skills classes (comprised of autistic kids in grades 7-8 of Elementary School and grades 9-12 of High School). It started because my dad and I both felt I needed more practice with social interaction, but I only kept with it because the people who run the program are really, really nice. But for years i've been taking this program (since I can take it as long as I'm in High School). I've been taking it for so long that I don't even remember how many times I've taken it. But I know that this year is going to wind up being my last year of High School. And so that means this is probably my last (or possibly second to last) chance to take this social skills class. And I have very, very mixed opinions on this.

On the one hand, the kids in the classes have been a very mixed bag. Some have been very obnoxious, to the point where I dreaded making a phone call with them. They were noisy and weird and all around uncomfortable to deal with. But some were pretty tolerable. Some of them I still vaguely remember (I suppose it makes sense I can only remember some of them vaguely), and they weren't awful kids. If I were a braver and bolder person, i would have tried to keep in touch with them. But I was never brave or bold enough for that. I have some of their phone numbers, but i'm too cowardly to try to keep in touch with any of the other students.

But beyond the students, the teachers have been amazing too. I actually have sort of kept in touch with one of the teachers, but mostly because my dad helps by making first contact through email. But the teachers for the program are wonderful, and they're probably 90% of the reason I stuck with the thing (because the lessons are always the same each time, and the students are a very mixed bag). But i'll admit, I also kept taking the class because I didn't want to forget the lessons. We practiced social interaction by making phone calls to other students. And even though i always got my dad to help me script some discussion topics for the calls, just making the phone calls themselves was very good practice for me.

So the classes have been very useful for me, I think. I mean… I haven't actually made any new friends from the classes (probably because I don't keep in touch with the people I've called, and they don't keep in touch with me). So on the whole, my friend count is still zero (besides my dad). But I think it's still been good practice for me. Even just practicing calling people and learning the rules of basic social interaction has been helpful for me.

So I'm a little sad that this might be my last time taking the course. I'm scared that if I stop taking it, I'll lose all the lessons it's taught me and i'll end back just as bad socially as I was before I began taking these courses. So thinking about it being my last time makes me feel incredibly nervous, and I really don't like that. It's just yet more stress if an existential variety, shoved on my plate against my will. I hate the passage of time.

[pinkfemgurl]

Your eyes widened in fear as you realized that they had planned this out from the start. You sit there trying to cover yourself as best as possible, the only clothing you currently have on is the pink thong that your crush was just wearing. Without even realizing it, the girls took your clothes and hid them somewhere. With their quick action you stood there nearly naked and afraid, not knowing what else they're going to do with you. "Ok I think its time that we play Truth or Dare but you~ are the only one being asked Truth or Dare." A girl said while teasing you. "Truth or Dare? And I should remind you that if you don't say dare, we won't talk to you anymore, and if we won't talk to you then there is no need for us to keep these pictures to ourselves! We'll show the whole class and even the entire campus of you in your pretty little thong!" Another girl chimed in.

"D-Dare..." You don't know what else they have in mind for you but you stopped having a real choice in this the moment you walked into their house. "I dare you to swap the rest of the clothes with your crush!" *snap* Another picture was taken.

"I dare you to let us do your makeup!" *snap* Another picture was taken. "I dare you to let us put you in this tiny pink chastity cage!" *snap* Another picture was taken. "I dare you to pose with your drivers license and student ID!" *snap* Another picture was taken. "I dare you to buy us some snacks for tonight! We're going to need it for the things we want to do to you now..." Teary eyed, you walk out of the house in your new pink getup, as the girls smack your ass every time you pass them to reach the door. "If we don't see you back in an hour, we're going to post all of these pictures to the class group chat! Don't be late!" [Present Time]

You walk around the store isle picking out the snacks the girls wanted you to buy them as you try your best to ignore the stares that everyone is giving you. Your only hope now is that they'll get bored of you and let you go... but little did you know, their last victim was someone who was under their control for years... they only got out when one of the girls began dating them. So, the other girls began seeking out a new person to prey on, and they chose you! This one's a long one... let me know if you like this type of caption or if you prefer short sweet ones more!

[reginaofdoctorwho]

i am going to Fucking Scream

[darnell-la]

Darkceo!logan and employer!fem-reader when he's using his power to control her fully as employer and plaything💯

pairing: dark!boss!logan howlett x employ!reader

warnings: controlling, unprofessional, threats, choking, hair pulling, sexual harassment, high power, forced creampie, rough sex, marking, baby trapping, etc.

note: I’ll be Logan’s slut coworker anytime.

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

———

“Logan, I can’t stay after hours to help the kids in detention. I’ve got work to do myself,” y/n said after the man called her in his office. This was his third time within a week, making her stay back.

“Well, I’ve got paperwork, and need someone to watch the kids when I’m not looking,” the man fixed his glasses before looking back at the computer he was typing on.

“You’re in the same room as them — I’m sure they’re not gonna up and leave,” y/n tried convincing the man to let her go, but that wasn’t happening, just like the other nights.

“When I tell something once, I expect you to listen, y/n. Don’t make me tell you again,” the man had looked up at the girl.

Y/n stood in the middle of the man’s office, wanting to fight for some kind of break, but last time he had scared her into staying.

“Yes, sir,” the young lady said before turning around and walking off. She could see the smirk on the older man after her sentence. He owned her, and she had no one to go to and tell.

“Y/n, stay back — We need to talk,” Logan said after y/n dismissed detention for the kids. Some laughed as others ran out, ready to do whatever teenage mutants did at this time of night.

“Mister Howlett, I really need to get to my own work-“ she tried saying. “Don’t start,” the man cut her off at the end of her sentence. The way he always looked over his glasses, made her shut up in an instant.

The class was finally empty. Logan stood outside of the door, waiting for all of his students to leave before closing and locking his classroom door.

“You’re the best teacher I’ve got, y/n, but your attitude — It ain’t pretty,” Logan finally turned around, eyes burning into hers. She didn’t want to get fired. She’s done everything he’s asked, but she could feel something coming.

“Ima need you to work after hours right here with me. Confused it a mild punishment for your recent behaviors,” he said, confusing the girls.

“Mister Howlett, I’ve donen’t everything you’ve asked me to for days. If I don’t get my own work done, I can fall behind. The stress isn’t good for teaching,” she tried telling the man.

Logan walked toward the girl, letting her talk for once until he stood right before her.

“I know you love this job, y/n, but you will lose it if you don’t obey me,” the man said. Obey? “Logan, this isn’t some kind of joke. I can’t be around you all day and night for no reason. I have papers myself,” y/n tried standing her ground, but it was hard. His gaze intimidated her.

“Then take ‘em down here for now on. Don’t argue with me anymore,” the man looked down at her as she rolled her eyes. He didn’t like that.

“Look-“ Logan said as his hand raised, gripping the girl's neck out of nowhere. “I don’t know who the fuck told you, you can act a certain way towards me — But I’d advise you to cut that shit out,” he said.

When the girl didn’t give a response and just looked up at the man, he dragged her until her body was pinned against the cold thick wooden walls.

“You think I’m a joke, Bub? I’ll fire you right now. I don’t give a fuck how important you are to my school. I’ll fire you and throw you out tonight,” the man threatened as his body pressed against her.

“So as I said, cut the fuckin’ attitude, before I do it for you,” another threat was made. “You can’t just-“ y/n tried saying. “I can’t just what? Hm!?” Gripped her neck tighter, waiting for her to tell him what he couldn’t do with her.

“Y-You can’t just do this, Logan. I have a job to do, just like you, and you’re getting in my way. Y-You’re distracting me,” she finally said.

She had been trying to tell the man for weeks now, but every time, he’d threaten the woman’s job. It was unprofessional of him shaking up in her room one night, and telling her she needed to come to her rooms at times and work. She didn’t know what the man's problem was, and she was scared to ask.

“Oh, I’m distracting?” He asked in a low voice which slightly came out as a growl. He couldn’t help but smirk and scan the young lady. She looked so good like this.

“Maybe I am too — Those lips aren’t very easy to ignore,” he said, face coming close to hers. Once his hot breath hit her skin, her heart dropped and reality hit her. This man has been hitting on her…

“M-Mister Howlett,” the girl spoke, earning a groan from the man. “Yes, princes?” He asked as one knee moved in between her leg, pushing until he grazed her clothes folds.

Y/n regretted listening to the man when he demanded her to look more professional by wearing skirts and dressed to teach.

“T-This is unprofessional,” she said, instantly making the man laugh as he tilted his head back. “God, you’re so fuckin’ dumb. Lucky me, I like ‘em that way,” the man said before he slowly leaned at her neck.

The young girl whined softly, her heart rate raising as her boss sucked on her neck. “L-Logan,” she pushed at his shoulders softly, but what would that do? He was stronger and wanted this.

The man growled in her neck, loving the way his name rolled from her tongue. “L-Logan, stop this,” y/n pushed harder at the man’s shoulders, but all he did was laugh at her skin.

Y/n’s eyes filled with tears as she noticed her cunt throb on his thigh. She was growing wet as well, and she knew he knew that.

After Logan realized how much she was leaking, he pulled her off of the wall by her hair, pulling her over to his desk. “Be a good coworker, and spread for me,” the man pushed her down onto his desk, almost breaking it.

“Ow, Logan,” the girl whined. He loved how venerable she was. The girl wasn’t a mutant, so she knew he was too strong for her. He loved the power he had over her as a mutant and boss.

Y/n repeatedly begged the man to let her go, telling him she’d do whatever he wanted from now on with no attitude, but all he said was “Ima get that anyway,”.

Logan pulled the girl's tight dress up, eyes filling with darkness as he saw her wet spot. “Fuckin’ slut got wet on the job,” the spat before ripping them off clean.

“P-Please, Logan,” y/n begged again, legs already shaking from the fear in her body. She’s never been with a mutant, and having her boss be the first, isn’t professional of her. She can’t do this.

“Don’t worry, Bub — Gonna fill this cunt right up. Give her what she needs,” he made up his own thoughts on what y/n wanted as he pulled himself out, stroking until he felt pre cum leak from his tip.

Logan knew the young lady wasn’t on birth control. He made her sign work papers, having that down as one of the questions. She didn’t think of it at first because she just wanted a job. A normal job, but now she knows it’s not so normal.

Logan forcefully pushed at the girl's entrance, making her grip his table. He was huge, and he hadn’t even filled her to the brim yet.

“L-Logan, please!” She begged as tears slipped from her eyes. The man groaned as he slipped into her walls, feeling the instant warmth and grip. “Fuck,” he couldn’t keep in. He’s been waiting on this for a while.

L-Logan,” the girl's cracked voice filled the room as he pushed all the way into her. She felt full. She felt pain. She felt pleasure. He knew she liked this deep down.

“Ah huh, baby — You like it?” He asked as he slowly pulled back before pushing back in. Y/n’s body went stiff at the length he was. He was too deep, and he loved it.

“T-Too much, Logan,” she cried low, gripping his desk harder. “I know, Bub, but whose fault was that for not being nicer to me? I would’ve trained you with my fingers, but you’ve been pissin’ me off lately,” Logan leaned over y/n, rubbing at her cheeks.

“Got me so fuckin’ angry, but all I could think about if fuckin’ it out. All out, into you,” the snap on his hips made the girl yelp. “So, you’re gonna lay here, and fuckin’ take it — professionally,”

Logan couldn’t help himself. He tugged on the girl's hair and gripped the side of her waist, pulling her into every hard thrust he could give. He knew the screws on the table were loosening, but he’ll fix it later.

“Can’t walk around here this tight and think I don’t want a taste, baby. Gonna be havin’ this cunt whenever I want, and however I want from now on,”

Y/n’s cunt was finally stretched and wet, good enough for Logan to slip into her with ease, but still rough enough to punish her. He neared to use the power he had over her, and he was.

“For now on, you’re in my room. Don’t need you unsupervised when you’re this tight,” the sounds of y/n’s juice filled the room as he talked. She couldn’t control her system. She was leaking worse than before. “And leave the panties alone. Need ease access in what’s mine,”

The girl's cunt throbbed at his words, not knowing why, but she knew she was fucked. If she tried telling anyone she didn’t want this after knowing the knot in her stomach getting harder to hold, they’d laugh in her face.

“Petty girls gonna cum, hm? Well, that ain’t so professional of you, ain’t it? Tellin’ me how unprofessional I am, but you’re about to cum on my jeans like the whore of the night,”

Y/n tried holding herself back, angry that he read her like a book, but she soon failed. She came all over his lower body, making the sounds of his thrust louder and more sloppy.

“That’s it, baby — Cum in my cock, and I might give you a raise,” he chuckled as he felt himself eat close. Y/n felt horrible. She clenched around the man after he mentioned a raise. That could only mean she was fine with this, as long as she got paid.

“Gonna have to save after the baby forms in your stomach. Can’t have my pretty girl workin’ too hard,” a whine left the girl's mouth. A very sexual moan that made him know she wanted this. Deep down, she couldn’t hide it. She couldn’t hide how good he was fucking the life out of her.

“That’s it, baby — Keep moaning like that, and Ima put a village in this sweet cunt,” the man said between his teeth, now slamming into her. His thrust was brutal, knowing the wind and trapped moans from her mouth any time his pelvis slapped her ass.

“Fuck, yes, baby. Grip me — Grip me and show me you want it,” the man's cock twitched in her walls, warning her, he was close. Before he could say another teasing sentence, he was cut off by his groans as he filled the girl up.

He spilled in her for what felt like hours, pushing his cock deeper into her cunt to make sure one of them would be a winner.

[msbigredmachine]

Kitty Kat (Roman Reigns)

After a lifetime of searching, the Tribal Chief may have finally found the woman of his dreams. Post Summerslam 2024.

Warnings: SMUT (yes i know its excessive im sorry 😭)

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: This got way too long bc I talk too much. I tried to shorten it I promise but I just couldn't. I do hope you like it either way...

Song inspiration: Again - Lenny Kravitz

Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs

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

He could get used to this.

As he stepped off the plane, Joe discreetly adjusted the bulge in his pants and exhaled deeply, allowing himself a giddy smile in anticipation for what was to come. 

He couldn’t wait to see her again. His Kitty Kat. The interesting part was that this time, she’d flown him out to come spend the week with her, in First Class, no less. “It’s a five-hour flight from Cleveland to L.A., so I want you to be as comfortable as possible, Daddy,” she’d told him. Never in his wildest dreams did he envision being ‘flewed out’. He’d been the one flying her out in his private jet, chartering luxury vehicles to bring her to him. The reverse felt strange and would take some getting used to, but it did feel nice to be pampered and taken care of for once.

Seated comfortably in the back of the Cadillac Escalade driving him through the City of Angels, he reminisced about last night in Cleveland. It was fun to hear the crowd again, the adrenaline rush of his entrance music blaring all around the Browns Stadium. It was a long absence from wrestling for him, darkened by the passing of his father, followed by the whirlwind preparation and execution of his funeral, grand, exhausting and emotional. Kat being by his side for all of it was a precious elixir he could never repay her for, but perhaps he could start tonight.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing. It was an unknown number, but against his better judgment, he answered and hoped it wasn’t some weirdo fan. “Hello?”

“You left town without telling me? I saw you all over Summerslam last night!” the shrill, familiar voice responded.

Scratch that. Now he wished it was a fan. “I know I blocked your ass. This is stalking,” was his cold greeting. 

“I just want us to talk, Joe! We can’t just end things the way we did!”

“Ain’t nothin’ to talk about, Ebony. I got the DNA test I wanted. Go find your baby daddy and leave me the fuck alone.”

“Are you ever gonna forgive me? I made a mistake!” Ebony pleaded. “You didn’t even invite me to Sika’s funeral. That hurt my feelings, Joe.”

“Bitch, don’t piss me off!” Joe countered angrily. “Blurting out that I’m not Josiah’s daddy was not a mistake! I also found the messages in your phone, remember? You and your little group chat laughed at me, laughed about me raising a kid that ain't mine!”

“That’s a female ass trait, y’know, lookin’ through my phone and invading my privacy!” Ebony complained.

“You can invade these nuts,” Joe dismissed, “You cheated on me and lied about the paternity of your son! That’s enough for me to wash my hands off of you and that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

For a second, Ebony was quiet. Then, “Let me guess. You’re with that uppity rich bitch. She was at your dad’s funeral, both of y'all looked so cozy in the videos. She's the reason you don’t wanna work things out, right? Weren’t you seeing her before we broke up? Who’s the cheater now, huh?”

Joe scoffed in disbelief. After all she’d done to make his life a living hell, she was still gaslighting him. “We were over long before I started seeing her. I only hung around cuz I thought the kid you were carrying was mine. Don’t act like your whorish toxic ways didn’t drive me into her arms in the first place! You broke us up, so I’ve moved on from your evil ass. Simple.”

Ebony kissed her teeth. “You are so disrespectful to me, always have been. You never cared about me. It was all about your fucking wrestling. You were always gone! I was lonely! I needed you and you didn't give a shit!”

“So that’s why you opened your legs for some bum, got knocked up, and lied that I was the father? You disrespected yourself!” He felt himself getting riled up and had to compose himself. He would not let his ex ruin his day. “Imma make this clear so even you can understand. We. Are. Done. Call me again and it’s my attorney you’ll be talking to.” Cutting off the call, he then blocked the number and deleted it for added measure.

Fuck that ho.

Anyway, back to his girl, Kat. It had been an amazing few months so far with her. Of course, he’d googled her in the beginning, asked Heyman to run a background check to make sure she was legit and not a psychopath like his ex. Katrina Sullivan was one of the most famous music producers in the world and the top executive at her renowned publishing label. She was a big time player in her industry just like he was, a star in her own right, and it was a match made in Heaven.

Not only was she incredibly beautiful, but sex with her was a wild ride. She gave him a run for his money whenever they fucked. She was all about new experiences and wasn’t too prissy to fuck inside a car or suck him off outside a dive bar. He blushed every time he remembered the freaky shit they got up to after his loss at Wrestlemania. Long story short, she made him feel much better about dropping the belt. He loved that she loved sex as much as he did, and if he wasn’t hooked on her before, he was completely addicted after that night. 

And it wasn’t all about the physical. There was an emotional bond they shared, a connection that he’d never felt with anyone else before her. Talking with her felt like talking with a friend. He would unload his good days and bad days on her and she would listen to all of it without passing judgment. He did the same for her and was proud to be the one she learned to trust after her own past heartbreaks. Joe wished he’d had the courage to leave Ebony earlier. Perhaps he would have found the woman who had become his peace, his safe haven, and closed the hole in his heart much, much sooner.

A Google Map search helped him find the best florist in town. The ladies in the shop ooh'ed and ahh'ed over the beautiful bouquet of roses he bought and how lucky his lady was. But he thought he was the lucky one. As he took a deep breath and inhaled the flowers, he felt his stomach flutter at the thought of her beautiful face, her smile, her warm embrace. Joe knew he was in love, but he didn’t quite know how to tell her yet. It was weird enough that he lowkey felt like a thot being flown out. He really didn’t mind, though. All he wanted was to be with her and just be in her presence, in her aura. He would tell her when he was ready.

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

Kat’s mansion was the stuff of dreams. Isolated on the hills of the Pacific Palisades overlooking lush Californian greenery, it was one of her rewards as the most in-demand producer in music today. The living room segued into the kitchen, which welcomed him with the smell of freshly cooked food. Pasted to her stainless steel refrigerator by a small circular ‘Acknowledge Me’ magnet, was a note from her saying that she’d just headed out for a last-minute meeting and directed him to the oven where a warm skillet of sirloin steak and seasoned roasted potatoes waited for him. She had also stocked her fridge with his Megafit meals along with C4 Energy drinks and a few bottles of her own branded tequila. His baby was spoiling him rotten and he was digging it.

He first put the fresh flowers in a vase he filled with water before settling down to eat. He wished she was here with him, but he understood more than anyone how busy things could be when you were at the top of your game. He was proud of her and wanted her to get all the coins she deserved. Halfway through his meal, he pulled out his phone and checked on her.

After dinner, he embarked on a little tour around her breathtaking abode which ended up taking several minutes to complete. Joe had some nice homes of his own around the globe, but this floored them all. The edifice dripped with luxury and was crafted to perfection, just like his Kitty Kat was. He enjoyed the gorgeous city view from her balcony as he sipped on some tequila. Her bathroom was spacious and had a waterfall shower that he luxuriated in when he stepped inside. One side of her walk-in wardrobe was lined with an assortment of brand new t-shirts, pants and dress shirts all for him. Of course she knew his size; she’d ripped his clothing off of him on many occasions. His stomach was doing flips as the time continued to tick by. It was hilarious that the big bad Tribal Chief was acting all giddy at the mere thought of a woman, but here he was, entangled in her expensive satin sheets, counting down the minutes until she was back in his arms.

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

The sound of running water jerked him awake. The plane ride must have worn him out more than he thought; he didn’t even realize when he fell asleep. The sky outside was now pitch black but the bathroom lights were switched on. As he sat upright in the bed, something rolled down his bare chest and onto his lap. He looked down and his breath hitched. A sheer, baby pink-colored thong, just removed. Unable to resist, he held it up to his nose and shivered as her sensual aroma filled his nostrils and sent all his blood rushing south. With newfound enthusiasm, he climbed out of the bed and padded over to the bathroom. 

Katrina’s back was turned to him, standing over the tub as she drained the bath. Draped in a fluffy lilac bathrobe that barely covered her backside as she bent over, Joe chose to stand there and admire her, letting his eyes follow the rivulets of water that trickled down her long shapely legs. He trailed his gaze along the backs of her knees and her oh-so-sexy thighs, stopping at her luscious derrière where he found her pussy lips, slick and glistening, winking at him. He groaned out loud at the sight, feeling his bulge stir in his drawstring shorts.

Alerted by the noise he made, Kat spun around and sighed. "Oh, damn," she frowned and bounced her fist against her thigh.

Joe raised an eyebrow at her reaction. “Did I frighten you?”

“Not really. I wanted to wake you up by sucking your dick.” 

Chuckling heartily, he stepped closer. "You still can, baby. Don’t let me stop you,” he said, sealing their lips together in a kiss he’d been thinking about for weeks. He held her tight, molding their bodies together as time seemed to stop all around them. The anticipation had been building all day and just this moment alone was worth the long wait.  

Joe sighed happily against her lips, his fingers massaging the back of her neck. “Mmm, I can tell you missed me. Did you miss me, baby?”

“You know I did, Daddy,” she whispered back. It had been months in the making, but Kat was thrilled that he was finally here in her humble abode. She pulled back to regard him, marveling at the sheer height and width of him, his bare, broad chest showcasing that beautiful tattoo and all those muscles. Fuck, he was so hot. “I saw the roses in the kitchen, they’re beautiful,” she said.

“Not as beautiful as you are, baby,” Joe answered, brushing his thumb along her bottom lip. “How was your meeting?”

Kat huffed and rolled her eyes. “Waste of my time. Don’t really wanna talk about it,” she added, changing the topic to a more exciting one. “You looked so good last night, babe. I could see how happy you were to be back.”

“I was,” he admitted, his light brown eyes lighting up. “Bro, hearing the fans go bananas when my music hit was insane. And all those fingers in the air, too. Four years of bustin' my ass finally paying off.”

“Huh. I had one finger out too, but it wasn’t in the air, and I was layin’ in bed. Naked,” Kat teased, fluttering her long eyelashes at him.

The thought of her writhing around in bed aroused by his show of violence caused another tightening in his shorts. With a growl in his voice, he responded, "Show me." 

“Wait.” She put up one hand before he could grab her. “Before we get started…I never got to ask you because we were so busy with the funeral…But did you take the DNA test?” she asked, watching with dismay as his face fell. He looked away with a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, something she learned he did when he was reeling in his emotions. 

“Yeah. Josiah’s not mine,” he replied sadly.

Two distinct emotions of her own rushed through Kat at this news. Relief, that he was no longer tied to Ebony and he could now, finally, move on with his life. Move on with her. Disappointment, on his behalf, knowing that he had enjoyed getting to know the baby boy he’d thought was his child. “I’m so sorry,” was all she could muster.

“Don’t be. At least I know the truth now. I care about the kid, but he’s not my responsibility any more,” he choked out, the sting of losing that sweet little boy still raw and painful.

“Oh, baby.” Kat rubbed her hands up and down his broad back to soothe him. She regretted downing the mood and sought to fix it. “What can I do?” 

Joe shook his head and sank into her embrace. “Just be with me, like this. I wanna be with you. Thank you for bringing me out here, it’s exactly what I needed.”

“Of course. You know I gotchu,” she assured him, butterflies sprouting inside her belly as he dropped feather-light kisses on her neck, trailing along her shoulder which was soon bare as he slipped off her robe and dropped it to the floor. She tugged down his shorts and her hungry gaze zeroed in on that other part of him that she missed. All those FaceTime calls and selfies did very little justice to the real thing. This was his first time on her turf, and she was determined to use this week wisely, especially as this extended period didn’t quite exist before. 

In the beginning, their meetings were brief and eventful, a couple of hours’ escape from the madness going on in their individual lives. Meet up, scorch the sheets, and wake to the sound of the rustle of clothes pulled from the floor, the sharp zipping of bags, quick kisses goodbye followed by the front door quietly clicking open and shut. At each other’s mercy at sunset then disappearing before dawn to resume reality. It was a thrill at first but as time passed, Kat realized she wanted more with him. She wanted to begin and end her days in his sturdy arms. Wanted them to shower together, to eat together and spend much more time together. Simply put, she wanted to be a real couple, and she was ecstatic when he confessed that he wanted the same. Coming to L.A. was a great start and it excited Kat to no end.

Hand in hand, they walked together, naked, out of the bathroom. She giggled as he followed closely behind her, kissing her neck and touching her body along the way. As they reached the bed, Joe noticed the bottle of champagne sitting in a bucket full of ice on the nightstand. Kat read his mind. “Just a lil’ sumn to celebrate your arrival,” she clarified, as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her to stand between his legs. His gaze was soft, yet beautifully intense as he ran his hands up her thighs and her hips, cupping her backside and bringing her even closer to him. He pressed his lips to her stomach, adorning her belly with gentle, open-mouthed kisses that felt so good she moaned pleasurably in approval.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered against her brown skin, his voice clear yet filled with a vulnerability he’d never felt before.

Kat smiled down at him. “Took you long enough. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“For real?” His heart pounding so hard in his chest he was sure she could hear it.

Her smile widened as she loosened his ponytail, letting the long dark locks fall and frame his breathtaking features like the angel he was. Her angel. “Yeah. I mean…After everything we’ve shared, after getting to know the beautiful person that you are, of course I’m in love with you too.”

They were words he’d been hoping to hear from her for a while now, and now that he had, he was robbed of every sensation other than joy and peace and the burning need to make love to her nonstop for the rest of his stay in the West Coast. “You’re beautiful too, baby girl,” he rasped, drawing her back in, “So fuckin’ beautiful…”

They clung to each other, making out with increasing passion, both of them extremely aroused and more desperate than ever in the wake of this wonderful revelation. As they kissed, he slipped one hand over her breast, kneading gently, eliciting from her those purring sounds that earned her sexy little nickname. He missed his Kitty Kat so much. The last time they were together was at his father’s funeral, and he couldn't be with her the way he wanted to be. Now that they were all alone there was nothing stopping him from having his way with her.

But apparently, she had other plans. 

She pushed him hard in the chest, smirking at his surprised grunt as he hit the mattress rather unceremoniously. “Get in,” she instructed him.

He frowned petulantly at her, but did as he was told, dragging himself backwards up the bed with his eyes on her at all times. He felt his mouth go dry as she crawled towards him on all fours like the sexy ass kitten she was. As she reached the space between his open legs, she surprised him by picking up her thong and winding it around his wrists, securing it tight before pushing his arms over his head. 

“Baby…” he pouted.

“Shhhh,” Kat shushed him quietly, thrilled by the submission in his eyes, the surrender in his soft moan, his dick hard and erect in anticipation. Having control over a man like him felt so empowering. Though sexually submissive to him, Kat always enjoyed it when the roles were switched. It never lasted long though, so she planned to make the most of it.

Climbing back down his body, she rubbed her hands on the expanse of his thighs, his caramel skin warm beneath her fingers. She moved higher, coming dangerously close to the pleasure between his legs but avoiding it, for now. She wanted to touch it but the wait was more exciting. Her hands disappeared to squeeze his ass cheeks, and then reappeared over his hips, traveling along the sharpened ridges of his six-pack abs and up to his broad chest. Her body followed suit, sliding up until her thighs bracketed his sides. The little hiss that escaped him as she sat on his torso thrilled her; she knew right away that he could feel her warm moistness against his skin. Her fingers found his nipples next, toying with them before leaning in to lick them, and giggled with amusement when his dick sprang high enough to smack against her backside.

“Fuck, baby, feel what you do to me?” Joe hissed, his cock jumping again as her mouth warmed his neck, nibbling on the shell of his ear as she whispered to him in the softest, deadliest timbre: 

"I’m just getting started, big guy."

Sitting upright on top of him, she reached for the ice bucket, scooping out an ice cube in the shape of an exquisite diamond. The ravenous look in Joe’s eyes matched hers as she sipped on the cube, letting the cold melt on her tongue and travel down her throat. Then, she bent down and kissed him, her cold tongue quickly warming up from the heat of his mouth. The wet muscles moved together in a sweet dance, delightedly intertwining, obsessed with the taste of each other. Kat pressed the ice cube to his chest, giggling when he jerked from the cold, and drew figure eights with it, watching rivulets of water trickle down the sides of his body. She put the ice cube on his right nipple and watched it harden. Then she replaced the ice with her warm mouth on his cold nipple.

“Shit, baby you killin’ me,” he moaned, looking on with hooded eyelids as she kissed down his body. She stopped between his legs, bowing her body in front of his erection, long and thick and hard, precum glistening on his slit. Her tongue darted out to taste it, licking her lips with pleasure. Giving him a sly wink, she took the tip of his dick in her mouth and sucked, winding her tongue around the head like a hungry snake. The moan that escaped his lips was needy and borderline painful, causing her eyes to light up in triumph. 

“When I get my hands on you…” he growled, his expression almost pissed, but Kat knew better. His frustration mingled with his lack of control, control she’d taken from him all day by calling the shots from his travel to the food he ate. The sensual power play continued as she massaged his dick, the thick velvety flesh twitching in her hands as his hands twitched in his makeshift binds. Using the flat of her tongue, she licked up and down his shaft, making slurping sounds that were drowned out by his groans as she spread her saliva all over his dick. She was addicted. He tasted so good and she craved to have her fill.

Putting a smaller ice cube in her mouth, she chewed it, crushing the ice with her teeth. From there, she hugged his dick with her lips, dousing the heat of his flesh with the coldness of her throat. Tiny bits of ice melted against his shaft as she sucked and tongued every inch of him. She could feel his chest heaving and his abs crunching, could hear his strangled moans as he got warmer and got harder in her mouth. He was right where she wanted him. Resting her weight on his burly thighs, she moaned to him to let go, and smiled when seconds later a shout burst from him, his hips arching off the bed as he unloaded down her throat. She drank her fill of him, glancing up to watch the pleasure ravage his huge body, giving a little smile as he floated down back to earth. 

“Oh my god…” he breathed, his body jerking when she pulled away, letting his dick, slick with her spit and his cum, plop down on his thigh. With one more long, soft kiss to his length, she slithered back up his body, pressing her lips to his for a sweet, delicate kiss which heavily contrasted with the heaviness of his dick brushing along her now-wet opening. Pleasing him turned her on in a way her notoriously composed self could never comprehend.

“You came so hard for me, baby. The look on your face was everything,” Kat gifted him a teasing lash of her tongue against his as she ran her hands up his arms to toy with the sheer material holding him hostage. Lifting her body up, she slowly sank down on his dick, a gasp slipping from her when the smooth tip pierced through her soft, slick folds, enabling her to wind her hips to take him all the way in. They both moaned as the thickness of him nudged her sweet spot, coaxing a whine out of her as she wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting him close, making out with him while slowly rocking her body back and forth, grinding her clit on him. It stunned her to this day, how she was able to take him all, his length and girth filling her and hitting her most sensitive spot right away. The power that coursed through her at making him succumb to her will, no different from any pinning combination or submission move, was intoxicating. Her moans and his groans reverberated through the bedroom, the air thick with the scent of sex as she loved on him.

“Untie me. Now,” Joe commanded out of nowhere, the roughness of his tone surprising Kat. One look at the power and pleasure on his beautiful face told her he was not taking no for an answer. Obediently, she  reached up and unraveled the underwear from around his wrists, and she had barely tossed it aside when his hands came around her, finding her backside and thrusting deeper into her. Finally, he could touch her the way he wanted. He loved her ass, enjoyed the feel of it gyrating against his palms. He landed a heavy-handed slap on it, making her burrow her face in his neck with a soft cry, the sound growing more desperate as his fingers caressed the supple flesh of her ass while grinding up into her, making her feel so good.

“Such a badass bitch, yet so weak for me. Weak for this dick,” he purred to her with a kiss to her shoulder. The wicked gleam in his eyes had Kat both frustrated and aroused, but the unmistakable glimpse of lust clouding those eyes showed he was just as weak for her. With every downward motion of her hips, she could see him become more mesmerized, his breaths huskier, his face contorting with unbridled bliss as her pussy squeezed his length in deep, throbbing pulls. Sensing him trying to regain control, she beat him to it, pushing up and steadying herself on top of him. With both hands planted on his strong chest, she adjusted her legs in a squat and began bouncing on his dick, up and down, fucking him, taking from him what she wanted, giving him what he needed. 

“Fuck, that’s it, kitten, ride the shit outta my dick,” Joe groaned, his huge hands now clamped around her waist. “I’m here now, baby. I gotchu. Take it out on me, take all that stress out on me.” It was a wonder to watch her, her knees up and wide apart, treating him to the sight of her moist flesh gliding all the way down his turgid flesh and back up, leaving the base of his dick a wet, slippery mess. It looked incredible and felt even better. “You so wet for me, baby girl,” he rasped, reaching up to massage her bouncing breasts. “I love it when you use me. You love using Daddy’s big dick, huh?”

"Yes, Daddy I love it...Shiiit, oh my goddd!" Kat threw her head back, her moans shaky, her body trembling on top of him as waves of ecstasy washed over her thanks to the orgasm wracking her from head to toe.  

“Unnhh yeah, come for Daddy, come on my dick,” he moaned back to her, his full lips parted and panting, his eyes boring into hers as he watched her come undone. Overcome with passion, he sat upright and tugged her flush against him, his breath hitching as the action sank him even deeper into her. He needed to hold her to him, needed to make her all his. “I ain’t pullin’ out,” he announced, moving her on him again, “I'ma come all up inside you, baby.”

His words sank in, but any coherent answer she had disappeared with another rake of his dick against her g-spot. Wordlessly, Kat snuggled into his warm embrace, locking her arms and legs around him as she continued to grind on him in a deliciously erotic rhythm. Wrapping his arms around her waist, Joe planted a big kiss upon her throat, her jaw, then her lips, enjoying the taste of her moans as his hips rolled along with hers like a choreographed dance. Emotions were high as they joined as one, surrounded by the sounds of the newfound love they were finally expressing to each other. The mattress bounced beneath them, the legless bed rocking in tune with their heated bodies rocking on top of it. Every worry they had was gone and replaced with a hunger and need for the other that they both knew they would never be able to satiate.

"I love you," Joe whispered, pushing her hair out of her eyes to gaze into them.

“I love you too, baby...oh fuck,” Kat panted, burying her face in his shoulder, her hands sliding down to grip his ass as she bucked her hips like a mad woman. Joe moved with her, not missing a single beat. His own release was building fast within him, too fast. The blood was pounding in his head and tightening his balls as her pussy squeezed his cock so tight he was having a hard time catching his breath. They soon realized they were climaxing together, both shaking from the intense, throbbing waves of pleasure. Kat’s toes curled into the sheets as she felt his warm fluid gushing into her pussy just like he wanted, felt his body pulse as hard as his dick pulsing deep inside of her. No piece of music, no music video she created could ever compare to the magic she made with this incredible man, ever be as beautiful as the sight of his face scrunching up helplessly as his orgasm consumed him. So she kept her eyes on him for as long as she could, watching all the emotions sweep his gorgeous visage like an unforgettable movie. 

An eternity later, their movements slowed, their breathing calmed, their hearts racing as one as the world returned to normal. Joe felt light as air as he fell back onto the bed, Kat melting into him with her head on his chest, where his heart beat for her. He was still inside her and she kept him there, wanted to be filled with all his love in the very best way.

“Welcome home, my love,” she giggled, soothed by his own throaty chuckle vibrating against her skin. Her eyes fluttered shut as his lips pressed her forehead. She wished she could bottle the sound of his laugh, the feeling of his soft lips, bottle this very moment forever.

“Glad to be home, my love,” he answered, his fingers caressing her back as he kissed her mouth. “I can tell my time in L.A. is gonna be fun.”

"Mm-hmm. We got all week, Daddy," Kat eyed him with a sly smile, tracing her manicured index finger along his tattooed pectoral, "Like I said, we're just getting started."

THE END.

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

A/N: This is the only story I've had the energy to complete. I'd love to know your thoughts!

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[mistymisfit]

Hounds of love

Summary: Jason wakes up from a bad dream, lucky for him he's got you to make him feel better. Based on the song Hounds of love by Kate Bush (and that post I made in april)

warnings: hurt/comfort, established relationship ,I think it's gender neutral but lmk if I missed anything.

wc: 1,5k

a/n: sorry for the --summarized-- psychoanalysis class lol (this has been in my drafts since april idk why I didn't post sooner)

Jason had always yearned for love, any type of love he could get. Ever since he was a child, afraid and hiding in the dark cold streets of Gotham, he's always wanted to be loved- to be so full of love he wouldn't be able to take it anymore. But he's always been a coward, every time someone would get close enough he'd start fighting it, self-sabotaging as if he subconsciously knew he did not deserve it. His own father, his mom, his stepmother, Bruce, he'd been let down time and time again by the adults in his life supposed to protect him. If they couldn't give him what he wanted, love him, who could?

The dread, or rather the certainty he had over being unlovable shadowed over him, as much as he tried to push it down and pretend he didn't need it. His own biological parents left him, they never wanted him. The very people who were supposed to love him, he was their son. They brought him into this world, it was their responsibility. Then he'd say he didn't even like Bruce to begin with, who cares if he chose to adopt him? Who cared if he looked up to him so dearly once as a child? He had died under his care, Jason had almost everything he wanted and went ahead and ruined it-- all because he was too afraid to accept it, because he was too stubborn. You just had to go after him on your own, he'd blame himself.

Now he keeps having this recurring dream; he's being chased by something in some woods, and he keeps running. He wants to ask for help, he really does but his mouth won't open. Then he gets to a lake, takes his shoes off, throws them in the lake and takes two steps on the water. Some days that does it, he feels like the thing is no longer chasing him. But most days he wakes up before he can feel he's lost the thing chasing him.

Tonight he's holding a wounded fox in his hands, attacked by bigger animals, in the midst of escaping. The poor thing looks at him with kind, almost human, eyes. He feels its little heart pounding fast on its chest, the little animal feels familiar. He knows this fox from somewhere else. How else would it let him hold it? Why else would he stop running, too guilty to leave it alone? He feels ashamed of running away, but he has to. He's too scared to be there, he doesn't know what makes him so afraid to leave the poor animal on its own. None of this was real, there was nothing following him, he's never seen what's after him. So why couldn't he stay with the fox?

This night he wakes up sweating, agitated and with his heart kicking his ribs. He immediately kicks off the covers, and takes off his shirt when he feels the cotton starts to itch and stick to his skin. He knows he should try to calm himself down before he wakes you up, you had to be up in a few hours.

"Jay?" You slur, barely a whisper.

"Sorry my love," He apologizes, looking back to you rubbing your eyes "I'll go sleep on the couch"

"mmm, stay" you hum, still groggy with sleep but a hand of yours reaches out for him "bed's too cold"

He takes your hand in his before cuddling back next to you under the covers, limbs getting tangled together once again. And before he knows it he's got his head on your chest as you wrap your legs around him to keep him close.

"Where'd your shirt go?" You mumble, hands softly going across the expanse of his back.

"You complaining?" He teases to distract you and it works because you shake your head no with blushed cheeks. His hands sneaked under your clothes to hold you in a way that was almost a tradition now. He'd reach for your skin just to feel you there, to make sure you're safe and next to him and you weren't some hallucination he'd made up in his loneliness. If Jason had to he'd die and come again, crawling out of his coffin if it only meant he'd get to hold you like this one more time.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You ask

"About what?" He hums, too comfortable in your embrace to even be bothered with remembering what he was so stressed about.

"Why you are awake" There's a beat of silence after the sentence has come out of your mouth. The only thing that can be heard is the city's never-sleeping traffic in the distance. He doesn't want to burden you with something as measly as a dream, so what if it made him wake up in a sweat? It made no sense so he had no reason to be upset.

"Had a bad dream, wasn't really a nightmare..." He confesses after the silence." 's stupid go back to sleep"

"It's not stupid, tell me about it"

"Baby" He sighs, hoping he sounds pissed off enough for you to drop the subject.

"What? A dream can be your subconscious trying to get something you can't when you're awake"

"Mine must hate me"

"It doesn't, but it may want something youre not aware of"

"Since when do you know so much about dreams? Nerd" He teases, nuzzling his head to you. Realizing you're just as stubborn as him, he accepts defeat and tells you about his dream, "There's a thing chasing me and I'm running through some woods"

"What's the thing?" You ask

"I don't know" He scoffs, quick to dismiss it.

"Just think about it," You hike your leg higher up his waist and squeeze him closer to you if it was possible. "how did it feel?"

Tangling himself with you to the point where he can't tell where you end is where he feels like he can be vulnerable. Only when it feels like he might just become one with you he can let his guard completely down. So he sighs and takes a moment to do what you ask. He knows damn well what is after him, he's always known.

"Me, I think," He hides his face even further into your chest."my feelings"

You only hum in response, so he asks "Is it hard to love me?"

Now you understand where the dream came from. The moment he connected the thing chasing him with its meaning awoke an insecurity, something he was trying to keep buried down. So you waste no time in your reply.

"Loving someone has never come easier to me"

He finally lifts his head up, big blue eyes swelling up with tears. He looked so helpless but at the same time so full of devotion for you. He's loved, you love him, so it must mean that he can be. If he's deserving of your love, your selfless and pure love, then he's not unlovable. He kisses your jaw, and then your neck hearing a soft sigh of his name coming out of your lips. Knowing he's handed you his own heart in a silver platter, that he is yours to do as you please, Jason can rest at ease that you'd never harm him.

"Why do you ask?" You don't let yourself get distracted by his kisses.

"It's just that-" He sighs, maybe he can be vulnerable one more time with you. So he fights against the need to push you away and tries to find the right words "Don't think anyone's ever felt that with me, ever"

"Jay, your father became a henchman to provide for you," you point out, holding his face with both of your hands "Catherine raised you like her own, and believe it or not Bruce loves you, even if he's too emotionally constipated to show it"

He scoffs at that last part, blinking away the tears brimming his eyes, which, in your opinion, made them look shiny like a tainted glass panel in a church.

"Your older brother, loves you too, he calls me to see how you're doing every other week 'cause you won't answer him" You continue, "So does Alfred"

"Let's go back to sleep, okay?" He stops you; the sudden reality check is much more than what he could process at the moment. He's been so deep into his own thoughts, what he believed to be truth, that he didn't even bother to see it from a different perspective.

"You didn't even tell me what happened in your dream" You insist with a pout.

"I'll tell you tomorrow, I'm sorry I kept you up"

"I'm not" You smile, giving him a quick peck on the lips. A hand cups your cheek, making the kiss longer. You know that if he was on a better mood he would've said something along the lines of it not being a proper kiss. You giggle against his lips, and Jason just wonders how was he ever able to function without you.

[avastrasposts]

Bona Dea - a Marcus Acacius story

Complete brain rot, this story has been in my head since last summer, just needed his name and his status. I'm yeeting this out there tonight even though I said I'd post it tomorrow. I'm too excited, I want to share!

8.6k - porn with a smidgen of plot, mentions of slavery and prostitution if someone wants to avoid that. Some Latin (explanations under the cut)

Enjoy!

Thermae - bath house

Caldarium - the hot pool in the bath house

Servi - slave or servant

Leno - pimp

Lupanarium - brothel

Domina - lady

Dominus - lord

Amita - aunt

Stola - a female dress

Meretrix - a high class prostitute

Concubinus - concubine

Carrisime - dear, beloved, a term of endearment

magnus - greatest

Puella - young woman

Futuo - Fuck

The town had no name, at least not in his mind. Somewhere to the north, where his army was camped for the next few days, a respite for the soldiers before the last march back to Rome. This close to the capital of the empire, there was no need for them to dig in, but he made them do it anyway. Erect the palisade, dig the ditches, Marcus Acacius was proud of the show of Roman military discipline they put on for the peasants in this backwards corner of the empire’s countryside. 

But being this close to Rome meant he and the highest ranking officers could have the luxury of staying in one of the town’s villas. It was nothing compared to the one he resided at in Rome, but for a few nights, it would do. And the local thermae proved adequate, the hot water flowing freely in the caldarium, filling the pool and relaxing his aching muscles. They, he and his officers, had enjoyed a few hours relaxing, taking the opportunity to get properly clean after many weeks' march. Only one last stretch, and then they would all be home. For a while at least, until the emperors decided on a new war, a new part of the empire to conquer and subjugate. 

“I’ll see you later,” he gave a wave to his closest allies, as they exited the bath without him. Acacius was determined to make the most of the hot water and leaned back, stretching out his long legs, flexing his tired muscles. It would be a few more long weeks on horseback before he could do this again. But the next time, it would be at home, and he couldn’t wait to get to it. 

With a groan he sat up and twisted his body, loosening the tight joints of his back before he slowly made his way out of the hot pool and into the cooler parts of the thermae. When he stepped out onto the street again, he felt refreshed, muscles loose and his body clean. He took a long, deep breath. 

“Gallio, go back to the villa, see to it that all is in order for tomorrow's feast,” he said, dismissing his slave without a backwards glance. His servi bowed and hurried off, while Acacius started walking in the opposite direction. He’d seen the tell tale signs of a high class brothel while they rode into town, and he had every intention of finding it and paying for a warm cunt to sink himself into, a good end to the day.  

The sun was sinking behind the town’s wall and the warm December day was starting to cool as he made his way through the narrow streets, following the phallic signs on the walls. The heavy wool of his cloak was welcome now, and he wrapped it around himself. The streets had been crowded before, now they were almost empty, and he found it odd that everyone would step inside so early in the evening. But the door of the brothel was still open and a warm glow came from within as he stepped through the door. 

“Leno!” he called out to the pimp who would run any brothel of this standard, and a man appeared from behind a doorway and regarded him with wide eyes. 

“General, what are you doing here? I have no girls tonight!” the man said, spotting his rank with just a swift glance at his attire. “And I sent home all the males and I was just about to close the doors.” 

Acacius frowned at the man, “Why are you closing up? And where are the girls?” 

“Bona Dea, general,” the leno said, his face apologetic, “All the women of the town are celebrating her tonight.” 

“You gave all the whores the night off just for Bona Dea?” Acacius asked. He knew the festival well of course, it was celebrated all across the peninsula, but the rites and rituals were secret to men, so he only knew that the women of his family would attend the temple and leave the men at home. “Do you not expect any male customers tonight?” 

“General, I apologise, I didn’t give them the night off, they took it, nothing can stop the women of this town from celebrating Bona Dea. And beg your pardon, general, but you should hurry back to your quarters. No man should walk the street after dark on Bona Dea. The women have free rein to do as they wish with any man they find out of doors on this night.” 

“What do you mean, leno? Free rein?” 

Acacius regarded the nervous looking pimp, he was shuffling from foot to foot as he twisted his hands, glancing nervously at the increasingly darker street. 

“Just that, general, free rein. Any man they find, they can do what they want with, rob him, mutilate him, fuck him, or make him fuck someone else, or something. I’ve heard of a man who was made to fuck a goat while the women stood around and laughed, drinking wine, getting drunk and pissing themselves. And no one can do or say anything about it. What happens during Bona Dea, they can’t be punished for, it’s the law.” 

“No law I’ve ever heard of,” Acacius scoffed, “and I’d like to see them try anything with a Roman general.” 

“With all due respect, general, you’re only carrying your pugio, and by law, you can’t harm them, only do as they command. It’s the law of Bona Dea,” the leno glanced at the door again but Acacius just shook his head and turned to leave. 

“They’re only women, I think I can handle myself.” 

“Against a handful, yes. But they roam in packs, twenty, thirty, I’ve heard them pull on the door here and cackle like witches. They can take down even a large man like yourself and then you*ll be at their mercy,” the leno was all but ushering Acacius out onto the street now as he started closing the door. 

“I may enjoy that, my cock was expecting a whore tonight, maybe I’ll have to find one of your runaway girls and make her have her way with me,” Acacius grinned at the nervous looking leno, who just gave him a quick bow, before the door to the brothel closed. 

“Bona Dea….” Acacius chuckled, “a night when women can do as they please? What kind of backwards country hovel is this place?”

He wrapped the cloak around himself again and set out towards the villa, maybe he would find some woman on the way, but he certainly wasn’t about to traipse around this town in search of one. Let them have their festival, he would settle for one of the slave girls at the villa. 

Night had truly fallen now, and the narrow streets were dark, very little light found its way down to where he tried to navigate the uneven surface. The lamp holders were unlit, even the men usually responsible for that seemed to be shying away from their duties on this night. With a curse Accacius tripped and nearly fell as he rounded a corner. The scabbard of his pugio clattered against the rough stones as he caught the edge of the building just in time. He pulled himself up and wiped his hands, stepping closer to the side of the street, putting his hand on the wall for guidance. 

“Futuo,” he hissed, fumbling his way forward in the dark, the only blessing being that this town seemed to be too small for the street gangs that would’ve plagued any street this dark in Rome. 

He came to a sudden stop as a door swung open a little bit further down the street, light spilling out and illuminating the uneven paving. 

“Hey there, keep the door open!” he called to whomever had provided the light, “It’s pitch black out here and I’ve got no torch.” Hurrying his steps now that he could see more of where he was going, he approached the open door. A shadow moved just inside, the shape of a person, and he thought he heard the giggle of a girl. Thinking nothing of it, he stepped into the rectangle of light and was blinded by the shine of a bright oil lamp. Unseen arms wound around his own and he suddenly felt himself pulled, yanked, in through the door, as female laughter erupted around him. Soft hands grabbed his body as he blinked to regain his vision, but before he could see, someone slipped a cloth over his eyes and the world was plunged into darkness again, a tight knot being tied at the back of his head. 

He chuckled, Bona Dea indeed, and decided to play along, feeling female hands pulling him, guiding him, into the house. 

“We found one!” a young woman called in excitement as he felt the air change, and he was led into a room. “A man foolish enough to be out on the streets!” 

The room erupted into delighted, tipsy, laughter. The smell of sweet wine hung heavy in the air and the alcoholic breath of the women nearest him lingered in his nose. 

“Tie him up, don’t let him see us,” came a command from what sounded like an older woman, “and let’s decide what to do with him.” 

Acacius felt himself pushed into the room and his arms were forced behind his back. This was not something he was willing to accept and he shook his broad form, easily discarding whomever was trying to restrain him. 

“Hold!” came the voice of the older woman again, and the woman trying to tie his hands went still behind him. 

“General, you know the rules of this night, you are ours until the sun comes up, you must obey our every order and may not hinder or harm us in any way. That is the law of Bona Dea.” 

Acacius felt equal measure anger and lust rise inside him. He was not a man used to being ordered around, tied up, not in control. But another, more base instinct, was fighting for space inside him, his cock hardening at the idea of being at these women’s mercy if they chose to use him. Not being in control for once, seeing what women would do if he let them use him as he often used the whores at the lupanarium. As long as they didn’t make him fuck a goat, he could see this as enjoyable evening. 

“Apologise, domina,” Acacius said, bowing his head towards the source of the voice, “I will follow the law of Bona Dea.” 

“If that is the case, we will not need to restrain you, general. Leave his hands untied.” 

The last was said to the room and behind him, Acacius heard the woman who had tried to bind his hands together, step back. 

“Bring him to the centre, let us see what kind of specimen the goddess has brought us.” 

Delighted cheers broke out at this, all around him. The room seemed to hold at least ten or so women, and they were clearly excited by the prospect of having a man under their control for the night. 

The woman at his back took hold of his arm and guided him forward, presumably to the spot where he could be seen by all the women. He could hear tittering, giggling whispers as he was left to stand, unseeing, surrounded by them all. 

“Remove his clothes, but be careful. We do not wish to send our general home tomorrow morning with his attire in shambles.” 

A shiver of trepidation, he refused to believe it was fear or nerves, shot through his body, at the words of the unknown woman. The soft shuffling of bare feet on a mosaic floor could be heard as at least two women approached him. Soon deft hands were removing first his cloak and then his belt. Someone knelt and untied his sandals, making him lift his feet as they slipped off. The skin on his abdomen pebbled as his tunic was removed, exposed to the air of the room, even though it was warm. 

The knowledge of unseen eyes on him, as the last of his vestures were removed, was an unsettling feeling. He squared his broad shoulders and straightened his back. If they wanted to see him naked, let them see all of his hardened soldier’s body, he had nothing to hide. What scars and disfigurements he had, he carried with pride as they showed the world what he had done for Rome. 

You stood at the top of the circle, in front of the Roman general who was now stripped of all his clothes, the blindfold the only piece of cloth on him. The younger girls were pleased with what they saw, appreciative hums and gasps were heard from around the room and you could see their excited faces. 

“He’s a fine one, good catch, Julia!” a younger woman exclaimed and she was joined by the voices of others agreeing. 

You could only give them right, he was a fine specimen. A general in the mould of the likes of the great Caesar, kept fit by his army life, living the same life as his soldiers. Not going soft and weak with age like those who turned to politics and intrigue. The man in front was standing tall, his long arms hanging relaxed by his sides, only a slight twitch in his fingers betraying something of his nerves. The golden skin was decorated by scars, old injuries, but gleamed under the light of the oil lamps. By the looks of it, and by the scent of the thermae, he’d been at the bath house before stumbling down the dark street outside your house. 

“What shall we do with him?” you asked, your voice lower, holding a promise and making the giggling of the other women die down. You took a few steps forward in the now quiet room, standing in front of him, taking in his clean scent and the way his still damp hair curled around his ears. You had to look up to properly regard what you could see of his face, he was a tall man, a proud Roman nose, a strong jaw, a handsome face even though you couldn’t see his eyes. 

“How shall we use him? Hmmm?”  

Bringing your hand up and gently touching his chin, the soft scruff of his beard tickled the tips of your fingers. The man didn’t flinch when you touched him, and it made you smile. He had been prepared for your touch, expecting you to explore his body. With slow movements you traced his jaw, down his thick neck, his wide shoulders and down over his chest. Glancing down, you saw his cock hardening, already rising up from between his thighs. 

“Oh, he likes that!” Julia exclaimed behind you, and the room erupted in giggles as the women closed the circle and shuffled closer to see. 

“How would you like to be used, general?” you mused, unable to keep the smile out of your voice at his obvious excitement, and in response, you saw the corner of his lip quirk up. 

“I am yours for the night, domina,” he replied, bowing his head to you again. 

Biting back a smile, you glanced at Julia who was standing at your shoulder, her eyes shining with elation. 

“Shall we see how much he likes it?” you asked her and she nodded, a giggle bubbling up through her. 

“Touch him, amita, make him hard for us.” 

The soft hand that had been exploring his chest slipped down and caressed his belly. He could feel fingernails trailing through the hairs on his stomach, sending a shiver of pleasure down to his cock. It filled with blood and he swallowed back a groan as the woman’s fingers traced the outline of it, an easy touch designed to torment him. 

“Let us hear your pleasure, general,” the woman said, her sensuous voice close to his ear now, the warmth of her body radiating over his skin, “I want to hear what sounds you make when you fuck your favourite meretrix.” 

Her filthy words made him groan again, just as her hand closed around his cock, holding it firm in her warm grip. 

“I like hearing your voice, general. I wonder if I can make you beg for release before this night is over? How hard can we make you before we allow you to spill your seed?” 

The words were matched with a slow stroke of his shaft, holding him firmly, twisting as it reached the tip. Her thumb smeared a drop of liquid over his sensitive head and he gritted his teeth, jaw clenching. 

He felt her move, her hand coming up to grip his jaw, firmly, but not with any pain. 

“Don’t hold back, if you hold back, we’ll make you suffer longer. Let us hear you,” the woman said, loud enough for the room to hear, and he heard the other women agree, telling him to be loud, to let them know how much he enjoyed it. 

He gave a short nod, and she gave his cock a firm stroke before letting go. 

“Cornelia, bring me the olive oil, let’s make this easier for him.” 

Another woman moved in the room and he heard the stopper of an amphora being pulled out. A few seconds passed and then her hand returned to his cock, slick and warmer than before, coated in oil. He didn’t hold back his loud groan when she covered him with the liquid. Firm, slow strokes filling his cock with blood, making it pulse and ache in that familiar, pleasurable way. 

Tilting his head back, he panted, cursing under his breath. Whoever this was, she knew how to stroke a man, a slight twist of her wrist as she came to the tip, pulling back his foreskin as she slid her hand down again. 

“Domina….” he groaned, “domina…”

His breathless moan was met by delighted cheers and he felt his neck heat up, self consciousness washed over him and he dropped his head down onto his chest. 

“Now, now, girls,” the woman said, her hand steadily stroking him, keeping him hard and full, “we want him to give us as much pleasure as possible tonight, let’s appreciate the service he’s giving us and make sure he enjoys himself too.” 

You stepped back from him, just a small step, and let go of his cock. It was a glorious thing, and you even doubted the younger women in the room were experienced enough to appreciate how well endowed he was. He’d filled up rapidly, and now it stood straight out from his tatch of dark curls, thick and weeping, hard as silk covered steel. By comparison, your husband’s member was a pitiful sight, even when erect. 

You took a moment to admire him where he stood, his arms still hanging by his sides, his hands now balled into fists. A red flush had risen on his chest and neck, the beating of his heart was thrumming under his skin, and as you watched, the tip of his tongue came out and licked his lips, a gasp escaping him. 

“Maybe we should give you some small treat too, seeing as you’re giving us your handsome body to play with,” you mused, putting your hand on his firm shoulder. His skin was warm to the touch, and you let your hand slide down along his arm, gently squeezing the hard muscles. You couldn’t resist touching him, he was like a god come to life, maybe even Mars in disguise. 

Taking his hand in yours, you brought it to your own shoulder, using his hand to push the shoulder strap of your stola to the side. The garment was loose, the same simple cloth you all wore on this night, all signs of your social status removed as you celebrated Bona Dea. But it also meant his hand met your skin as he pushed the fabric over your shoulder. The rough fingers were warm and he seemed to hesitate when he felt the stola slip to the side. With a swift movement, you undid the clasp on the other shoulder and let the whole thing fall to the floor, the buckle clattering as it hit the mosaic. You saw him shift his head, hearing the sound and interpreting it correctly. You took hold of his hand again, guiding it to your breast. A smile broke out on your face as you watched his reaction to finding your budding nipple under his palm. His tongue came out again, a quick swipe over his lips, as he inhaled. Letting him feel his way around, you watched him weigh your breast in his hand, thumb gliding over your nipple, making you briefly close your eyes. 

“Show us how you make your meretrix wet enough for your cock, make me ready for you, concubinus,” you hummed, wondering how this powerful general would react to being addressed as one of the pretty men who were kept by some wealthy ladies. His hand stilled on your breast, holding it firm, and you could swear he was searching for your eyes through the darkness of his blindfold. He licked his lips again, and bent his head. The heat of his mouth closed around your nipple as his tongue lapped over it. A whimper came from you, seeing this man bend to your will, doing as you asked. 

“Does it feel good, amita?” Julia asked in a breathless voice behind you, her tone was laced with need, you could hear the arousal coursing through her veins as she watched the general suck at your breast. 

“He’s certainly talented with his mouth,” you replied, the laughter in your voice replaced by a moan when he tugged gently at your nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure to your core. The man hummed in response, moving his mouth to your other breast as his hand fell to your hip. Caressing it with firm motions, he slipped it down over your soft belly, cupping your cunt with his hand. The breath caught in your throat as he pushed a thick finger between your folds, making you jerk your hips into his hand as he easily pushed into the wet heat that had gathered at the apex of your thighs. 

“Domina….” he muttered against your breast, “you are well and truly wet enough for my cock already. Can I give it to you?” 

He heard her swallow at his words, her hand coming up and slipping into the hair at the back of his head, the slight sting more pleasurable then he would’ve thought. With a gentle tug she pulled him off her breast, he let her hard pebble slip from his mouth and reluctantly pulled his hands from her cunt when she stepped back from him. 

“Let us all be undressed,” she said to the women in the room, “lay him on the floor and make use of this hard cock that the goddess has blessed us with.” 

“But he can’t come!” one of the women said, her voice a drunken giggle, “We need that cock hard for all of us!”

“You can barely stand, Cassia, too much wine in such a small girl,” another woman called out, and was met by loud laughter and he could hear Cassia laugh with them. 

“More wine while we watch!” she called, “Who shall ride him first?” 

Acacius felt two pairs of hands pull him down, guiding him gently onto soft bedding. As he tipped his head back, someone adjusted his blindfold, making sure he couldn’t see anything but darkness. It was a strange feeling, flat on his back, his cock hard and weeping, hearing the unknown women move around him as their stolas fell to the floor around him. 

“Julia, you caught him, you should have the first ride,” a woman said and the rest joined in, cheering on Julia who was giggling as she knelt beside him. He could feel her hands on his abdomen when she straddled his legs. 

“He’s so big!” she exclaimed and his hips jerked up as her hand closed around his already aching cock, “Much bigger than Appius!”

“Remember, he can’t come,” the older woman chuckled close by, she seemed to be kneeling behind his head, “How should we punish him if he does?” 

There was a murmur among the women as they tossed ideas over his head, someone suggested he’d be made to fuck a goat as soon as he was hard again and he thought he might never get hard if that was the prospect. 

“No, poor goat,” the older woman laughed, “What has it done to deserve that?” 

Acacius silently let a relieved sigh slip out, someone suggested he’d be covered in garum, another thought he should be made to run a gauntlet through the room, that he thought he’d easily manage. 

“Why not let everyone know he was foolish enough to venture out on Bona Dea?” Julia said from her position straddling his thighs. “Take his clothes and let him make his way back to his quarters with this glorious body on display for the whole town? We can send a slave to the encampment with his clothes later on.”

The room erupted in cheers and it was agreed to be the punishment. Acacius gritted his teeth, he could easily imagine the looks of his soldiers, the ribbing he’d get from his officers, if that was to happen. He would have to use every trick in the book to keep himself from coming. Already he felt the familiar tingling in his crotch as the woman called Julia shifted above him. Her hand was firmly wrapped around his cock and when the head met the heat of her cunt, he groaned. Slowly, whimpering at the size of him, she sank down, rocking her hips to take more. 

“Gods, he is so thick,” she panted, her hands flat on his belly as she carefully lifted her hips, letting him slip out before she sank down again. 

Acacius bit down on his lips and hissed out a long breath, “Puella, can I touch you, I want to hold onto your hips, let me fuck you better than your Appius.” 

“You can touch me everywhere, concubinus,” she moaned in response, taking one of his hands in her own and firmly placing it on her breast. He let the other find her hip, gripping on to the soft flesh, he bucked his hips up into her. Her answering cry of pleasure made him bite his tongue, staving off the pressure building in his balls. Squeezing her tits, rolling the hard nipples under his fingers, he continued to fuck up into her, making her bounce on him, he could feel the soft slap of her ass every time she dropped back down. Soon she was moaning loudly, crying out for him and he let his hand slip from her breast, finding the little pearl at the top of her cunt that gave women so much pleasure. With deft fingers he caressed it, his cock twitching as she responded to his touch, whimpering above him. 

“Gods, I’m…” she gasped, her voice giving out as the walls of her cunt gripped his cock, and every muscle in her body froze. She sobbed as she trembled above him, her hand batting away his fingers from her cunt, and he softened the rolls of his hips, fucking her through the waves of her orgasm. 

With a breathless giggle she finally stilled on him, “Sisters, help me up, my legs have no strength,” she laughed and he felt the weight of her lifted from his hips. 

“My turn!” someone called from beside him and the room erupted into laughter. 

“Give him a moment to calm down,” the older woman said with a smile, still close to his head, and he felt her hand on his shoulder as her voice came close to his ear.

“How is your stamina, general?” she asked in a soft voice, the warmth of her breath against his ear even more tortuous than the feeling of Julia’s cunt on his cock. He was hoping she’d fuck him before the night was over, the very thought of how wet she’d been, made him clench his jaw. 

“Still strong enough for these girls, domina, I will save my load for your wet cunt,” he whispered in reply. The tightening of her grip on his shoulder made him smile, he couldn’t see her, but he knew his words had made her press her thighs together at the thought of taking his cock. 

“More wine!” someone called and cups were raised, some wine being spilled onto the floor with sighs and giggles. 

“I might have to offer you my cunt in the end,” his domina, as he was starting to think of her as, whispered back to him, “Most of these girls are too drunk to be of any use.”

“Alba, take your turn,” Julia’s voice called, “And come join me to recover afterwards.” 

The woman named Alba laughed and he felt her legs swing over his hips. She wasted no time closing her hand around his cock, spreading Julia’s arousal even more thoroughly over him. 

“I wonder if he tastes as good as he looks?” she asked and as her mouth closed around the head of him, he groaned loudly, gripping the bedding underneath him and cursed. He could feel his domina’s hands in his hair, caressing his temples, stroking back his damp curls. 

“She’s a tease, that one,” she laughed quietly in his ear, placing a delicate kiss on his forehead. 

He couldn’t responde, only agreeing with a grunt, as Alba’s mouth swallowed him whole, sinking all of him into her throat before she pulled off with a deep breath. Her hand was stroking him up and down in fast motion and he felt helpless against the rising heat in his abdomen, a strangled cry coming from him as he bit his bottom lip hard. 

“Slow down, Alba, you’ll ruin the fun for yourself if you make him come too fast,” his domina said and Alba laughed. 

“I’d better get my fill of him then,” she replied and Acacius felt her adjust herself above him as his cock yet again slipped into a wet cunt. He groaned as she squeezed him, lifting up and coming down over him with a roll of her hips, riding him hard and fast. From across the room he heard some of the women give lazy cheers, clinking cups as they egged their friend on. 

“Ride him until he begs for release, Alba,” one woman called, her voice slurred by the wine they all seemed to be downing fast. 

“I’ll ride him until he makes my body shake,” Alba called back, panting loudly, moaning as he grabbed her hips and slammed his cock hard into her. He was determined to make her come quick, hard, so that he didn’t have to fight against his own aching cock. It was ready to burst, his balls tight between his legs as the unknown woman used him for her pleasure. 

“T-touch me,” she gasped at him, and he slipped his hand around her ample hips, finding the sweet pearl quickly. As his fingers rubbed across it, she cried out, her nails digging into his chest as she drove him in and out of her slick cunt, her walls beginning to convulse around his cock. 

Her speech was incoherent, just mumbled pleas and gasps, her breathing heavy until she cried out. Her thighs gripped his hips tight, slamming down on him and grinding her cunt into his soaked crotch. She whimpered as the orgasm washed over her, Acacius bit his lip, almost drawing blood, as he forced his mind to think of anything but the woman using him for her pleasure. When she collapsed on top of him, the hair on her head tickling his nose, he wrapped his arms around her back and gently caressed damp skin, her heart thumping against his chest. 

In the background he heard a few giggles and tired cheers, but no one rushed up to take Alba’s place. His cock ached deep inside her and he almost wished he’d come, despite the punishment he’d receive.

The other woman, still sitting by his head, shifted behind him, and he heard her stand up. 

“Come, girl, get on your feet, let the poor man breathe,” she said in a soft voice, he could hear her smile. The weight of Alba lifted from his chest and she seemed to stumble to her feet as the woman led her away. He was left on the bedding, his cock still hard and aching, the air of the room quickly cooling it. Reaching up, he grabbed the base tightly, staving off the worst of his impending release, drawing a deep lungful of air to steady himself. 

You led Alba over to where the rest of the young women had collapsed into piles, drunk on sweet wine and the excitement of the night. None of them were used to the wine of Bona Dea and would have no further enjoyment of the general currently splayed on the bedding across the room. Julia gave you a lazy smile as she made room for Alba next to her, both girls spent and sated. 

With a smile at them, you crossed the mosaic floor again, watching as the man gripped the base of his weeping cock and grimaced. Sinking down on your heels next to him, you gently put your hand on his arm. 

“Come, general, this night isn’t over yet.” 

He sat up and you helped him to his feet, taking his hand and leading him out of the room and further into the building. The darkness of the house fell around the both of you, it was late in the night, but you weren’t tired yet. The striking general, stripped of all his attributes, padded on bare feet behind you, his hand in yours, following blindly and trusting you without question. 

You led him to a room softly lit by oil lamps, and left him standing in the middle while you closed the door. Stepping up behind him you gently untied the blindfold, letting it fall to the floor, and as you moved around him, you saw him blink against the light and then find your face. 

“Domina…?” he asked and you smiled as you saw his deep brown eyes in the golden light. 

“There is no law against the men foolish enough to wander into our celebrations seeing the women they are being tormented by,” you said, answering his unspoken question, “What happens on this night stays between the man and the women.” 

He nodded once and you stepped closer, your bodies pressed together, the hard length of him between you, slick against your flesh. His hands were calloused and rough as they gently grabbed at your hips of their own volition, caressing your skin, warming you. There was no hesitation as you reached up and cupped his cheeks in your hands and moved his soft looking lips to your own. He came willingly, a low rumble in his chest as your tongue met his. For a man who had been achingly hard for the past hour, he moved slowly, measured in the way he tasted you, nipped at your bottom lip and touched your body. 

“Touch me again, make me as wet as your meretrix, general,” you whispered against his lips and you felt the corners of his lips pull up in a smile as his hands pushed you backwards. 

“I want to bury my face between your legs, domina. That’s how I get them wet enough for my cock,” he muttered, watching your face with dark eyes, as you continued to step back for him. 

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, the thought of him giving you pleasure that way made your body tremble and he noticed, a fresh wave of arousal pooling between your legs. 

“I’ve only ever heard tell of some men doing that to women,” you said, the cool metal frame of the bed against your legs, “my husband never did it to me.” 

“I’m sorry, domina, but your husband is a fool. It’s the best way to give pleasure to a woman, to prepare her for a cock like this, and make her enjoyment of the act as great as mine.” 

His warm hands slid down over your hips as he spoke, and now he grabbed them, his strong arms flexing as he picked you up and laid you down on the bed. Settling himself between your thighs, he made you open your legs wide for his broad shoulders. He hooked one arm under your thigh, pushing you open even more, and his eyes made you shiver, as he looked at you with a wicked grin. 

“Take a sturdy hold of the bedding, domina, and let me hear your voice.” 

You pushed yourself up on your elbows and were just about to talk back to him, to ask what skills he thought he possessed. But your question was lost to a moan as he lowered his head and ran the tip of his proud nose along the seam of your swollen slit, following with the flat of his tongue. 

Your head tipped back as you groaned into the room, his tongue finding the sensitive bead hidden among your folds and sending a violent stream of pleasure through your body. Never had a man touched it the way his tongue did, lapping at it, circling with slow steady strokes, making it vibrate as he hummed against your flesh, his own pleasure clearly rising as he feasted between your legs. He seemed to be teaching himself how to draw every debased groan and moan from your throat, coming back to repeat the ones that made you pant and dig your fingers hard into the bedding. 

“Domina…” he mumbled against your cunt, “put your hands in my hair, let me feel how good I’m making you feel.” 

You met his eyes as he lifted his face slightly, his beard and jaw shining with your slick, and it made your insides cramp around nothing. “If this is your first time, let me make it one to remember when you go back to your husband.” 

You nodded, dumbly, moving your hands to his hair, the long curls winding around your fingers as he dipped his head again. He pushed against your leg, spreading you for him, as he drove his tongue as deep inside as he could, the glistening tip of his nose circling your sensitive pearl, making you gasp with every pass. 

The warmth of his hand moved over your leg, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, and you felt him shift on the bed. His tongue was still lapping greedily at your folds, but now it was joined by two of his thick fingers, teasing at your opening. As he closed his mouth around the apex of your thighs, suckling on that bead, he pushed his fingers inside you. 

“Gods….” you cried, your body arching up under him as it filled you, stretching you out. Between your legs you felt his tongue increase its speed, heat rising as he moved his fingers in and out, copying the motion of a man’s cock but curling, dragging, his thick fingers over places inside you that you’d never knew existed. Pleasure all but exploded in your body as you groaned for more. 

“Dominus…please…I’m…” 

The fingers on his free hand dug into your flesh, holding you down as he moved up onto his knees, pushing you into the bedding with his body. You saw him work his jaw, feasting on your cunt as he drove your pleasure higher, his fingers pushing deep inside, curling and stroking, driving you towards an edge that you were almost afraid to fall over. 

“Dominus,” you wailed, locking eyes with him as he looked up from between your legs, his mouth still licking every drop you fed him. His dark eyes, wild and almost mad with lust, bore into you, and with one more thrust of his fingers, he pushed you over the edge. You could feel his eyes on you as your whole body seized up, ecstasy coursing through every fibre, your throat raw as you sobbed and groaned. His fingers were relentless, stroking you, working your cunt into submission, prolonging every wave of pleasure that radiated from where his mouth sucked at your folds. 

With tired hands you pushed him away when it became too much, your body was shaking, your breathing ragged, and he gently let go of your body, his fingers slipping out. 

“Carissime,” he growled, crawling up over your body, “let me fuck you, let me spill my seed deep inside this tight cunt, and claim you as mine.” 

His skin was damp and hot as he covered you with himself, sinking down on his forearms and placing wet kisses along the side of your neck. The roll of his hips against you made him groan between each kiss, his cock was flushed red and weeping, denied release for so long. His words sent a fresh jolt of arousal through your mind even though your heart was still hammering from what he’d already pulled from you. 

“Carissime,” he repeated, sucking hard on your neck, sure to leave a mark, “Let me fuck you, or suck my cock, just give me release, let me spill myself over your soft tits, I need your body.” 

His pleas wrapped themselves around your head, your limbs grew hot, and the heat between your legs returned. 

“Fuck me,” you whined, grabbing at his shoulders, pulling him down over you as your hips rolled up against his hard length. 

“Tell me how, domina, order me, please Bona Dea. You only have one night to take what you want from me.” 

His breath was scorching against your skin as he moved down and wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking hard at it, nipping, giving you both pain and pleasure that made you whimper and push him closer to your chest. 

“Fuck me from behind, use me like a meretrix,” you said, it came out more like begging, a desperate plea, “My husband never wants to fuck me like that, and never hard, but I crave it, I want to feel your thick cock for days to remember this night.” 

Acacius muttered as he pushed himself up, leaving your breast tender and shining with his spit. 

“He truly is a fool of a man. To have this tight, wet cunt in his bed every night and not fuck it like it deserves? Were you in my household I’d make sure you’d never go unsatisfied again, keep you in my bed day and night.”  

He’d risen to his full length, standing by the side of the bed, and again you took in the glorious form of this man that Bona Dea had blessed you with. His skin had a sheen of sweat, his curls in disarray, and that cock, hard and flushed, weeping from the tip, ready to sink into your cunt. It made your mouth water and the general noticed. 

“Come here, carissime, on all four and turn that sweet ass to me,” he slapped your ass cheek and grabbed your hips, pulling you back towards him. “I can’t tell you how much I look forward to fucking you as hard and rough as you wish. My cock has been waiting all night on being sunk deep into a cunt as sweet as yours.” 

It made you whimper, the way he talked to you, and on instinct, you curved your back, opening yourself up to him. He growled and squeezed your ass again, spreading you open for him to see where his cock would slide in. The blunt head dragged through your folds as Acacius coated his cock with the juices leaking from your puffy folds. It made him hiss, and with one last shred of self control, he grabbed your hips, and slowly sunk into the wet heat, feeling your walls stretch for him, clenching tightly as you moaned. 

“Gods, carissime,” he groaned, his fingers so tight they were sure to leave marks on your skin, “you have the tightest little cunt I’ve ever felt, your husband is a fool, I might have to order him to divorce you, so that you can come to my villa.” 

With a low grumble, he pulled out almost all the way before he pushed in again, harder this time, and it made you keen under him, your core contracting to hold his cock tight. 

Acanius leaned over your back, his hot skin on yours, and he grabbed your hair, winding his fingers into the previously so well maintained hairstyle. Now the curls spilled through his fingers as he pulled your head back. 

“Mi meretrix,” he hissed, “are you ready? I won’t hold back, I can’t.” 

You could only moan a breathless Yes under the weight of his body, your core contracting and pulsing around the thick length of his cock buried deep inside. His voice was strained and taught, he had no self control left. The hand in your hair tightened its grip, the other took a steady hold of your hip and he pulled out. 

When he slammed back in, you cried out, pleasure shot through your body as the impact caught every sensitive spot inside your slick cunt, but he gave you no respite. He set a brutal pace, grunting and panting behind you like a bull, holding you in place as he slammed his cock into your heat over and over, praising your cunt, your tight heat, your body, your willingness to let him use you like this. 

You could only take it, it was like no fucking you’d ever done, he filled you up, not just your cunt, but your whole body, your mind and every sense left tingling at the onslaught. All that filled your mind was how full you were, how his cock felt as it stretched you open, splitting you down the middle, making you cry out in pleasure and need. The man behind you was relentless, his sweat dripped down on your back, scorching hot drops on your own overheated skin. With a growl like an animal, he wrenched you up, flush against his chest as his arm banded across your breast. The rough pads of his fingers immediately found your aching pebble between your legs and circled it, drawing tight patterns that made you wail and cramp. He changed his angle, fucking up into you with the same unforgiving speed and power, and pulled your head back on to his shoulder, his mouth finding your ear, warm breath and gravelled words spilling from him. 

“Carissime, come for me, choke my cock with that tight little cunt of yours, I’ll dream of you on my march back to Rome. Give me the sweetest memory to think of as I fuck my hand in the night.” 

His cock was spearing you, pushing hard and deep inside, while his fingers found the very core of your pleasure. 

“C-come for me, now, I can’t…I can’t hold myself any more,” he panted, his rhythm stuttering, you could feel his cock twitch inside, he was falling over the same edge as you, his body tensing up, the muscles of his stomach contracting against your back as he groaned loudly in your ear. 

“Futuo!” he cried out, and your cunt closed around his cock, your body taught as a bow string under his strong arms as you sobbed into his neck, turning your head to feel more of him as your body convulsed and trembled, the muscles in your legs giving in until it was only his arms around your body that held you up. 

Acacius groaned and cursed as he pumped into you, hot ropes of cum shooting out and filling up the tight cunt that gripped him so hard. His rhythm was faltering, he could hardly move, his eyes were blurry, he held you up as his own legs gave in. With a stumbling step, he pulled you both down onto the bed, falling on your side with his cock still deeply buried in you. He pressed his face into your neck, breathing hard, the build up of the last hour finally being released. His hips jerked, pumping the last of himself into you, and then he stilled. You could feel his arms tight around your chest, his breath against your skin, even his heart beat could be heard in the now quiet room. 

The muscles in your body felt like lead, warm lead flowing out over the bed. How you’d ever move again, you weren’t sure. Your eyes were impossible to open, the general’s body a heavy weight over half of you, he didn’t seem too keen on moving either, his breathing growing slow and steady. You both stayed still in the silence and the afterglow, not wishing to break the spell of Bona Dea. 

A few hours must’ve passed before he stirred again, the light outside the small window had changed. He lifted his head and looked around the room in confusion for a moment before he remembered where he was. The woman was still underneath him, half covered by his body. He could feel his soft cock still laying between her legs, he hadn’t even pulled out before he fell asleep. With curious eyes he regarded her now in sleep, a woman of his own age, beautiful with the features of someone of noble birth. Gently he trailed a finger across her soft cheek, carefully moving his weight from her. But his movement caused her to stir, blinking awake as he looked at her. 

“General,” she mumbled, sleep still clinging to her features, as she rolled over onto her side to face him. He held himself up over her, cupping her cheek with his hand, slowly caressing every line. 

“Morning approaches, I must go back to my men and explain my absence,” he said, “Domina, you have given me a night I will never forget.” 

“As have you, general,” she smiled in reply, “My cunt is still sticky and I believe I will feel this ache for days.” 

He chuckled at that, swiftly moving his hand down to cup her sex instead. 

“I wish I could stay and give you more nights,” he said, slipping a finger gently between her folds to feel his own seed still leaking out. She gasped as he brushed across her sensitive bud, letting his fingers caress it softly before he pulled away. 

Regretfully he shook his head, “But I’m expected in Rome and my army must march on.” 

“Come back next year, if you can,” she said, “Bona Dea will always welcome you into this house.” 

“If our emperor doesn’t send me away on another campaign, I will do my utmost to come back, carrisime.” 

The endearment fell from his lips with a soft smile and she pulled him down towards him, her lips finding his, tongues meeting again. She was warm, irresistible under his hands, he groaned and felt his cock twitch, somehow growing hard again. 

“Carrisime,” he whispered against her mouth, “I must go, but come find me if you’re in Rome.” 

“What is your name, optimus?” she smiled at him. 

“Marcus Acacius, domina. Come find me, let me taste that sweet cunt again.” 

“I will, Marcus, maybe I will leave my husband at home and come find my magnus concubinus.” 

Part Two

Tagging the lovely crowd from the preview post!

@angiewatson @i-own-loki @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @lady-bess @nerdieforpedro @legendary-pink-dot @musings-of-a-rose @for-a-longlongtime @oberynslady @chaoticfestninja @joelssapologist @mduluozz @jessthebaker @hellofeyradarling @pascalislove @flyingthroughheaven @criticalarchitecture @brittmb115 @dammit-hoechlin @li-anne @luly0607 @snow3096-blog @rainbowcat164 @suddendownpour @sherala007 @groovy-hippie-chick @grippysockedtoebeans @bonafideslacker @tupelomiss @rhiannon-girl @verge-of-tears-again @truffles-cat @jay-zzle @rav3n-pascal22 @chronically-ghosted @allaboutthebeskar @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @casa-boiardi

[delusional-day-dreamer]

Last Friday Night - n.m

‣ nika muhl x reader!

‣ paige version of this fic

‣ wc: 1953; sorry this is so short and lowkey not that good?

‣‣ synopsis: you and nika have kept your relationship on the dl for a while now, but what happens when your inebriated selves slip up on kk’s live? pretend the ncaa's lift on cannabis for athletes happens before the start of the 23-24 season! (so sorry for the inactivity but I just got back from camp and am ready to feed y'all)

‣‣‣ a/n: so i actually thought of this fic idea when i tried a weed pen for the first time (it's legal in ca) and i passed out with half my clothes on, no fan, forgot to brush my teeth and take my makeup off, and accidentally left a small heater on in my room that ran for four hours and turned my room into a furnace before my mom came in and turned it off and woke me up to yell at me 😊!

8:42 am

To say that you and Nika were in trouble by the events of last night was a little bit of an understatement. Both of your phones were blowing up by your respective coaches, teammates, close friends, and all of your social media accounts.

As you scrolled through your tiktok, text messages, instagram tags, and just about everything else on your phone while laying next to Nika's sleeping figure in her bed, it only reaffirmed one thing in your head.

You and Nika majorly fucked up.

12:07 am; where it all went wrong

With your volleyball season and Nika's basketball season being in their respective peaks during this time of year, you had barely gotten a chance to spend time with your girlfriend alone. The two of you were either travelling for away games, at practice, in class, hanging out with your friends or teammates, or busy studying. Needless to say, you missed Nika. A lot.

Which, combined with the weed pen you were hitting periodically, loosened your inhibitions to a whole new level inside of Ted's fairly crowded bar.

It wasn't jam-packed, but there was a decent crowd of older college students for a Friday night in October, especially since Halloween was soon to be approaching in two weeks.

Normally, you and Nika weren’t big on PDA, at most you would hold hands or give small pecks around the team, considering the fact that the two of you kept your relationship very much on the down low, not so much a secret as very private. You never denied any allegations but basically never posted together on your own, unless the two of you ended up in the background of someone else’s pictures.

Social media had a lot of speculation, edits, rumors, etc, surrounding the two of you, as you had no connection to the team as a volleyball player yet still hung out with them regularly. But either way, you and Nika always just minded your own business and kept everything very hush hush. Except for tonight.

Nika was sort of sober, she had done two shots with some of the other girls while you mostly just smoked a few times, not wanting to get super high, but just enough to let the tingly sense of giggly euphoria wash over you.

Yet one thing you failed to consider when choosing weed over alcohol for tonight was the fact that it made you incredibly horny. That, combined with the fact that you and Nika hadn’t spent any time together in the last three weeks, let alone have sex, were the leading factors of tonight.

The rest of the basketball team was spread throughout the bar, some were at a table not far from the two of you, messing around on KK's live, while others were dancing, drinking, or mingling with their other friends.

Which left you and Nika alone, squished together in the corner of the bar top. You were leaning with your back against the wall, standing in between Nika's spread legs from her position facing you atop the stool. Her hands were holding onto your bare thighs, occasionally removing her left to take a small sip of her drink before dutifully returning to your legs.

"I'm just saying Niks, we could definitely sneak out without anyone noticing, everyone's too busy doing their own thing," you attempted to convince your stubborn girlfriend, sweetening the notion by rubbing your hands up and down her jean-clad thighs.

As D1 athletes, it was obvious that the two of you had toned and muscular bodies, but one of Nika's features you found most attractive were her muscular thighs she built from her time in the gym and on the court, especially the way they would wrap around your head while eating her out.

"We'll leave soon bebo don't worry. Besides," Nika leaned into your ear, her warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "I already promised I would make up the last three weeks to you tonight yeah? What's another hour ljubavi?"

You bit your bottom lip as Nika pulled back, thudding your head on the wall behind you as your eyes trailed over the small smirk Nika held, now using her fingers to draw small circles on your thigh.

"Fuck, you're driving me crazy like this Nika," you reached your right hand over to the bar top, desperate to take another hit of your pen to ease the influx of horny thoughts running through your mind.

Before you could bring the vape up to your mouth, Nika grabbed your waist and pulled you into her, and despite her sitting position, you still only had a good two inches over her.

"You're not gonna share bebo?" Her teasing eyes gleamed up at you as she licked her lips in anticipation.

You immediately knew what she meant by that, the two of you doing it all the time whenever you're smoking or vaping together (y'all have seen the watermelon pic of her and let's be frl, they're college students, it's NORMAL).

You smirked at her suggestion, leaning into her before taking a deep inhale of the weed, allowing as much of the smoke to enter your lungs as possible before using your left hand to grab Nika's jaw, pressing your open lips against hers to shotgun the smoke into her mouth.

You didn't even wait to finish exhaling all of the smoke and taking another breath before enveloping Nika's lips into yours hungrily, eagerily gripping her waist with the hand still holding the vape.

You kissed her passionately, deepening the kiss as you slipped your tongue into her mouth, the mixture of the rum and coke she was drinking earlier and the earthy taste of weed making your head spin.

You continued to make out for a few minutes, gently pulling away while tugging her bottom lip with your teeth, gazing down at her closed eyes and blissful expression.

"You finally ready to go home Niks?" You teased, licking your swollen lips at her finally needy expression.

"We're getting the fuck out of here, right now," she rushed out, flagging down the bartender to pay off her tab and the second she got her credit card in hand, interlocked her fingers with yours to drag you out of the bar.

Completely unbeknownst to the two of you, KK and her live had been at the table diagonal to you the whole time, and while her body covered the two of you behind her while sitting, the only shield you had quickly disappeared when she stood up, leaning over the table to steal some of Ice's food when it had been set down, completely exposing you to her two thousand viewers, who were no doubt screen-recording.

The camera clearly caught your lips against Nika's blowing smoke into her mouth before leaning in to kiss her, and despite the two of you being on screen for less than a minute, it was enough to cause an internet commotion.

KK's eyes scanned over the comments as she sat back down, blocking your frames as she shoved a few fries in her mouth. Her eyes widened at the sudden influx of comments about you and Nika, leaning in to figure out what was going on.

"I, what? There's no way y'all," she whispered to the table of Paige, Ice, Carol, and Jana. Paige leaned in from KK's right side, trying to figure out what had happened.

Covering the camera slightly, KK, and everyone else, turned around to witness you and Nika's little makeout session ending and the flirty whispers exchanged.

"Unfortunately tonight's live is gonna have to end here girly pops, and if you think you saw something, no you didn't!" KK exclaimed as she quickly turned off the live, the table erupting with laughter at the situation. The whole team had placed bets on how long it would take you and Nika to fumble, and half of them had just lost a hundred dollars at your shennagains.

The walk back to Nika's apartment was brief, filled with flirty touches and short pecks to tide the two of you over until you finally entered home, Nika immediately pushing you up against the front door, moving her lips down your neck and around your collarbones with gentle grazes of her teeth and soothing licks.

"Niks please, stop teasing," you breathed out, grasping Nika's hair tightly from her scalp with your hand, pulling her face up to yours to gaze down at her with a pleading expression.

"Aw, my poor bebo," she cooed, mocking your horny desperation for her, but thankfully Nika wasn't that cruel.

She led you over to her bedroom, slamming her bedroom door behind her as she pulled your shirt over your head, unfastening the bra clipped behind your back all while reconnecting your lips as she laid you down onto the bed.

You moaned into her mouth as her long fingers bunched your skirt up by your waist, rubbing gentle circles on your clit through your panties.

Before you even had the chance to ask for more, she slid the fabric to the side, running her fingers through your slick before inserting two of her fingers, curling them up into you as you let go of her lips to throw your head back, moaning loudly at her ministrations.

"Oh my god Nika, right there baby, fuck," your leg wrapped around her waist tightly as you clenched around her fingers, bucking your hips up to match her movements. Your hands making their way around her neck and back, pressing her body firmly up against yours.

Normally you wouldn't be so close to finishing within a few minutes, but the weed from earlier created a delirious fog that clouded your brain and with the way Nika's fingers were both pressing into your g-spot and rubbing your clit, your orgasm was quickly approaching.

"Fuck I'm so close Niks, please just need a little more," you whimpered into her ear, moving your lips down to nip at the sweet spot under her ear.

Her other hand responded quickly to your begs, twisting and tugging firmly at your nipple as she mindlessly muttered every dirty thought that crossed her mind, knowing how deeply her praises affected you.

"Doing so good for me bebo, always such a good girl. You gonna be my good girl and come for me? Just let go for me ljubavi."

Her words were the final thing to push you over the edge, the tight coil in your stomach snapping as you immediately arched your back into Nika, an endless string of moans and curses falling from your mouth as you let your orgasm wash over you fully.

"God Nika, I don't think I can even feel my legs right now," you giggled in her embrace as she slowly eased her fingers out of you, sucking the remnants of your orgasm off them before wrapping them around your waist, laying you over her as she laid onto her back.

"Hm, fucked you that good huh?" She smirked, using her clean(ish) hand to brush the slightly sweaty strands of hair that had fallen in front of your flushed face.

"I don't know why you're getting so cocky Mühl, haven't even had my turn with you yet," you teased, running your fingers over her stomach, tugging at the remaining fabric on her body.

"Thought you just said you can't even feel your legs bebo?"

"Good thing I don't need them to fuck you then yeah? Don't you think my fingers and mouth will be enough for you Niks," you retorted, shuffling your body down the mattress so you could finally have your way with Nika.

9:13 am

Instagram

y/n l/n posted a story

[rineros]

SHE WAS TOO GOOD TO ME

summary: he wants to heal

characters: miya atsumu, ex!reader

contains: 1.6k, self reflection post breakup

note: don’t judge ooc atsuwu i haven’t written hq fics in four years and he was the closest person to my ex bestie #fuckthatguy

sometimes, miya atsumu allows himself to wonder what could have happened if he wasn’t such an asshole.

he glances to his right. across the empty side of the bed where the scent of your shampoo was fading, his alarm clock reads 2:56 am. he groans loudly in frustration and drags his hands down his face, stretching out his tired features.

he stares at his ceiling that is illuminated by the glow in the dark stars you and he stuck up there once upon a time. a small smile strikes him when he remembers walking in on you hopping on the bed to get them up there.

he had watched you for a minute before you saw him. he’ll never forget that warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest when you laughed joyously the moment you saw him and jumped from the bed to his arms. he held on to you tightly as he spun you around, relishing in the feeling of being truly loved.

you had kissed him so gently as you smiled when he set you down that he thought of himself as an adorable little puppy.

you excitedly showed him the progress you had made over the past hour, which honestly wasn’t much, but he knew you had probably gotten distracted by your phone.

“i got an idea,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders. “turn around.”

“you’re one dirty dog, you know that?” you giggled as you followed his movements.

you had yelped as you felt yourself being hoisted up into the air, but he gripped your waist as you held on to his hair for dear life. you steadied yourself and praised him for being such an innovative and creative problem-solver, making his cheeks flush.

from there, he walked to wherever in the room you wanted to place the stars, bed be damned, and by the time you two had finished, the sun had set. he set you down as he had done earlier and the two of you had lain patiently in bed, talking to pass the time as you waited for the darkness to settle.

when the stars started glowing, both of you had squealed childishly, but he thought that all those rare, once-in-a-lifetime comets could never compare to the sparkle in your eyes. cheesy, he knows.

he checks his clock again. it’s a quarter past three.

osamu’s going to be pissed if he calls him.

fuck it.

atsumu grabs his phone from the nightstand and dials the person who will always listen to him. he cringes when he hears osamu’s ringtone across the hallway.

it rings… and rings… and rings. voicemail.

an eerie silence settles in the apartment. you always hated that. the air is still, his pillow is much too flat, and there’s a disturbing feeling bubbling in his throat.

atsumu jumps and drops his phone on his face as his ringtone blares in his ears. he pinches the bridge of his nose, rubbing it to soothe the sharp pain as he accepts the call.

“the hell you want?” the raspy voice of his brother mutters. atsumu feels bad because he knows that osamu’s first class starts at 8:00, but he can’t deal with this anymore tonight.

“i just… i wanted to talk.” his foot starts to shake and bounce as the silence returns.

a second passes, then another.

“come over.”

with that, his restless body rises from bed and walks quickly and nimbly across the hall to osamu’s room with his blanket wrapped around him. he opens the door to a half-asleep osamu and climbs into his queen-sized bed, the perk he received since atsumu got the bigger room. he makes himself comfortable as he lays on his side to face osamu, bringing the blanket up to his chin, basking in the warmth that could never match your own.

“gimme a sec,” osamu says gruffly. his eyes are still closed as he lays on his back. atsumu watches as he takes a few more deep breaths, then slowly cracks his neck to wake himself up. “talk.”

atsumu moves to lay himself on his back after he sees his eyes open slightly. they both stare at osamu’s bare ceiling.

“i never told you this, but when she broke up with me,” he pauses. “she didn’t cry. she looked too exhausted.

“she told me even before we broke up that i stopped putting in as much effort and that she felt like she wasn’t even in a relationship anymore, just the ghost of it.

“she completely tore me to shreds without even raising her voice because that’s who she is. no matter how much you hurt her, she’ll never hurt you. she cares too much. she wasn’t even trying to rip into me, like, she was just explaining the type of person i am and how my actions affected her and everyone’s perception of me.

“she told me that every time i hurt her, it seemed like i didn’t take her seriously and i never took accountability for my actions; i was always trying to weasel my way out of trouble.

“but i just wanted to preserve everyone’s feelings, y’know? i wanted to keep the peace. i never meant to make her feel like that.”

atsumu stops talking for a second as he waits for osamu to say something. it’s all a blur, with bits and pieces flashing in his head, but he could never forget the blank look in your eyes as you pointed out his shortcomings as a person, not just as a boyfriend.

“we judge others based on their actions, but we judge ourselves by our intentions,” osamu says. his voice is still ragged with exhaustion and his eyes have closed yet again. “i heard mom say somethin’ like that to her friend once.

“i believe you when you say you think you didn’t do anything wrong, but that’s only from your perspective. you’re busy; i get that and so does she. there’s volleyball, classes, homework, clubs, work, your friends, and then you added her, but it seems like you had spread yourself too thin already—“

“and that’s exactly one of the points i told her,” atsumu interrupts. “i’m not gonna be able to give her 100% all the time because i already do so much.”

osamu side-eyes him. “will you shut up and let me finish?”

atsumu huffs but lets him continue anyway.

“what i’m trying to get at is that, yeah, you’re busy, but you’re not the only person that’s busy. this isn’t just your world that we’re living in, it’s everyone’s. to her, it must have seemed like all of the effort, time, and love she invested in you was losing its value every time you ignored her or prioritized something stupid when she needed you. it’s not difficult to detach yourself from something that treats you like you don’t matter if you know your worth.

“you also lie. a lot. and i know you think they’re harmless little white lies, but they’ve gotten too out of hand lately that you’ve probably become desensitized to them.

“she’s smart and she knows you. she knew whenever you lied and it destroyed any kind of trust or credibility that you had.

“and that bullshit about wanting to spare everyone’s feelings? you know you don’t care about all that. also, who cares? nobody made you play mediator besides yourself and it’s impossible to not hurt anyone. you’re already hurting people; you’ve done it before and you’re going to keep doing it because that’s what learning is about. making mistakes. and if you haven’t already realized that you’re hurting people more than you would if you’d just tell the damn truth, you’re screwed,” osamu finishes his monologue, leaving atsumu in his thoughts.

was it really that bad for you? was he?

when he was younger, his tongue was as sharp as a shard of glass and he was much more careless with his words. it didn’t matter to him if the true words, in his opinion, hurt those around him. his belief was that there was no improvement without criticism. as he grew up, however, he had to learn to filter himself because nobody would willingly choose to be around someone who solely focused on their flaws.

and somewhere between then and now, he had forgotten the importance of honesty, usually opting to twist and bend the truth to preserve his reputation. it started off with a fib of “too much hw, can’t hang tn :(“ to multiple complicated lies spanning months, in which he would tell others things to make himself seem better. the kinder person, the most reliable, the smartest. just better.

eventually, it became too difficult to manage all of these lies and his stories became mixed up. when he was questioned about it, he would lie even more and even harder.

even now, as osamu told atsumu what he thought of him and his situation with you, there wasn’t much good. though atsumu came to osamu for comfort tonight, he, like you, wasn’t trying to make him feel bad, but it seems that’s the way he is destined to feel about himself when his personality is brought into conversation.

osamu snores next to him and as atsumu snuggles up to his blanket further, he realizes that this is a path he no longer wants to walk down.

he’s going to be better.

[ldrfanatic]

r9 for mattheo riddle pls🙏

shakin', pacin', I just need you

mattheo riddle x fem!hufflepuff!reader

r9 - "for you I would fall from grace, just to touch your face"

gonna be at the dentist office w my bf for the next three to four hours so I'm gonna try and clear out my requests <3

lowkey I was praying someone would request this for mattheo

part two anyone?

y'all I could not find where I wrote down my mattheo taglist so if you wanna be added please please PLEASE comment on this post so I can start a new one thanksss

slytherin boys works

"y/n are you even listening to me?"

the voice of hannah abbot, a fellow hufflepuff, tore your eyes from your only slytherin friend albeit reluctantly. when you finally looked towards your friend, her mouth was turned up into a disapproving frown.

"no. I know you think he's your friend, but he's not."

she wasn't entirely wrong. afterall, you couldn't honestly say that you'd exchanged more than a few words with the boy, though it wasn't for lack of opportunity. he'd approached you on more than one occasion but neither of you ever seemed to actually speak.

really, it was because mattheo felt stumped by you. he'd spent a lot of time with different girls while he'd been at hogwarts. but when he tried to approach you, he fumbled. every. single. time. that was how he first knew you were special.

the kind of girl that made him want to face his father's wrath even though he knew that liking you would be more than enough for a crucio.

between your friends, his family, and his inability to articulate his thoughts around you, mattheo never really got the chance to talk to you.

that is, until now.

somehow, by the grace of the universe, snape had paired you with him for the d.a.d.a. project studying boggarts. you touched on them briefly in your third year but due to lupin's condition, didn't get the chance to finish them. for once, mattheo actually wanted to do schoolwork and do well on this project so you didn't resent him for a bad grade.

as class was dismissed, a hand softly grabbed your wrist.

"wait."

it was mattheo. he was actually speaking words to you rather than just sitting there and staring. it was almost unsettling if anything.

"d'you maybe wanna meet in the library after classes and..."

you smiled sweetly and nodded.

"are you sure you can handle it riddle? don't you have to be talking to someone to study with them?"

there was a teasing tone in your voice which caused mattheo's face to bloom and pink to tinge over the tips of his ears. suddenly, like a switch had flipped, a cocky smile took over his face.

"i can't help it if you take my breath away. maybe you just bring out the best in me like that."

caught off by his banter and yet undeterred, you continued.

"well we all know that you're at your best when you shut up."

you spoke the words with a teasing smile. his jaw fell promptly open at your words, completely surprised that a hufflepuff would say something like that. while mattheo attempted to collect himself, you shoved your dark arts textbook into your satchel and swung it up onto your shoulder.

"the library. tonight. 5pm sharp. don't be late riddle."

five o'clock could not come fast enough. potions with professor scalby was simply exhausting. she was a kind enough women which was a nice change from professor snape after she'd taken over the class following his promotion to d.a.d.a., but the woman had a love for potions that you could safely say no one else in the class really shared. unless you counted hermione granger, a sweet enough gryffindor also in your year.

by the time that scalby finished gushing about the amortentia your class would attempt to brew next week, you were sure you'd aged an entire year in this class alone.

finally, after what seemed like an eternity, class was dismissed. you quickly packed your books away and scurried off to the library, arriving a decent few minutes before mattheo sauntered in with an otherworldly confused look on his face.

"sorry i'm a little late. i got lost."

he spoke to you in a deep yet gentle rumble that had your heart beating a little faster in your chest. it was hard not to notice the way that he gawked at the old century library which was probably your favorite collection of books in the whole world.

"have you never been here before?"

mattheo's dark curls bounced atop his head as he shook it slowly. he looked down at his large hands with what appeared to be shame.

"i've never really taken an interest in school before."

wanting to make him feel better you gently bumped your shoulder into his as the two of you walked back towards the study tables.

"you're taking an interest now."

"in you."

his words made the both of you settle into a thick silence. though it was hard not to notice his lingered stares across the great hall or after a slytherin-hufflepuff match, it was the first time that he'd spoken words aloud that alluded to his feelings for you, and it seemed to catch the both of you off guard.

after a moment's pause, mattheo spoke again.

"i-uh, i don't know why i said that i'm sorry."

you reached your hand out from across the table where the two of you had settled down and grasped his hand in yours. you flashed him a reassuring smile.

"don't be."

abruptly, mattheo let out a strangled noise of frustration and tugged at his hair with his fingers.

"i can't do this anymore."

your heart thumped so quickly against your ribcage, you feared it might stop beating altogether.

"can't do what anymore?"

"this, y/n. i can't keep posing that i want to be your friend and do friendly things together like study at the library."

now your heart was breaking. hannah was right. mattheo riddle was not your friend and-- oh. mattheo riddle was not done speaking.

"i can't keep pretending when i want to be so much more than friends with you. when i want to do very not friendly things with you. to you. when i feel like throwing these books on the floor and yanking you across this table and pressing every part of your body against every part of mine."

instead of doing that, he stood from his seat and knelt in front of you. it felt weird to have the son of the dark lord on his knees in front of you all but begging you to be his girlfriend.

"i know i'm not the chosen one or anything and i'm never gonna be the good guy. but damnit if i have to stay away from you any longer i don't think i could stand it."

his confession stunned you into silence. how the hell could yoou possibly respond to that?

"say something, please."

a hopeful look had taken over his features. his brown eyes sparkled under the dim library lights.

"i don't care that you're not the protagonist mattheo. i would fall from grace for you."

---

<taglist>

@blobsblobician @helendeath

07.07.2024

[ak-vintage]

Sweet As

Pairing: Francisco Morales/f! babysitter reader

Summary: Frankie comes home after a long day at work and learns how you have been keeping cool in the midst of a heat wave.

Prompt: Frankie Morales x Grapes

Tags & Warnings: 18+ MDNI, 6 years post-Triple Frontier, single dad Frankie, flight instructor Frankie, babysitter reader, dual POV, age gap (not specified, but reader is a grad student), minimal descriptors of reader character, no use of y/n, domestic, sweet, mutual pining, food as foreplay, frottage, pussy pronouns, vaginal fingering, oral sex (f! receiving), trying to keep quiet, trying not to get caught, undefined but hopeful ending

Word Count: 7.5K

Written for the @happypedrohours Charcuterie Board Challenge.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics <3

Read on AO3

You had always been a summer girl, but even you had your limits.

It was week three of the most severe heatwave the south had seen in a decade, and even with the Morales’s air conditioner running at full capacity, you still couldn’t help but park yourself directly under the ceiling fan with a sweating glass of iced tea. Mila, thankfully, hadn’t fought you during bedtime tonight, the six-year-old nearly dead on her feet after a full day of summer activities – a bike ride around the block before the heat of the day had set in, a dance party after lunch, hours in her swimsuit weaving in and out of the sprinkler in the back yard. You had done your best to keep up with her sunscreen, but she still sported a little flush on her round, tan cheeks as she crawled into bed, making little snuffling snores before you had even finished telling her goodnight.

There was a part of you that envied it, the way she could just collapse into sleep, not a care in the world, while you were stuck at the kitchen table late into the night, your laptop and textbooks strewn across its surface. The perils of holding down a full-time babysitting gig while also taking summer classes, you supposed.

It was worth it, though. Mila was a sweet girl, a total social butterfly, full of giggles and sweetness, easily the most fun kid you had ever cared for. And Frankie, her father…

Mr. Morales, you reminded yourself with a quick shake of your head.

Mr. Morales was a dream to work for. Respectful, pleasant, communicative, fair. A great parent to his daughter – a single dad, the only one in your regular client rotation. He paid you well for your time, and he was generous with his recreation budget, always making sure to leave cash in the top kitchen drawer for ice cream treats, trips to the pool, matinee movies. You really couldn’t have asked for a better job for the summer.

It didn’t hurt that he was absurdly handsome, in a rugged, lived-in sort of way. Not that it mattered, of course; he was your boss, more than a decade your senior, and you were, above all else, a professional. Hitting on the kids’ dads? The biggest babysitting faux pas. You liked to think you had more class than that.

However, class or not, you were still just a woman, and Francisco Morales? He was all man.

A blue-collar, ex-military guy in his mid-forties, he was tall and impossibly broad in the shoulders with long, muscular arms, a soft tummy that peaked out over the waistband of his jeans, and a head full of dark brown curls that were constantly just a little squished by a dark, well-worn ballcap bearing the Standard Oil logo. He started out a bit reserved in the beginning, not at all unfriendly but certainly someone who took some time to open up to new people, but in the months since you had started working for him, the two of you had developed a comfortable rapport.

So, if you dragged yourself out of bed an hour early just so you could get to his house in time enough to share a cup of coffee with him before he left for work, well…that was just relationship building with a client, wasn’t it? If you found yourself lingering in the driveway every time he walked you out to your car at the end of the day, extending the conversation more and more, delaying your departure as long as you could manage, that was just…friendship, right? Comradery.

And if, on nights like tonight, you received a series of clunky, unpunctuated texts asking you to stay late on short notice and you agreed without question, that was just going above and beyond. That was you being a good employee.

It definitely wasn’t you genuinely wanting to help out the struggling single father, not because you were being paid to do so, but because he deserved it. And you definitely didn’t take a deep, personal satisfaction in knowing that he trusted you, knowing that he relied on you.

It was all above board. All friendly. All completely and totally normal.

These were the things you told yourself, anyway. It helped you to keep your traitorous heart in check.

It was nearing 10:00 PM by the time Frankie finally pulled into his driveway, his eyelids heavy, his limbs leaden and slicked with sweat. One of the ‘copters at the flight school where he worked had required some major repairs after a clumsy takeoff by one of the students earlier that afternoon had resulted in damage to the rotor blades, and he had volunteered to stay behind after hours and help with the effort so the thing wouldn’t have to spend the entire next day grounded. He was an instructor these days, but his assistance had still been welcomed. In the years he had spent attempting to earn back his pilot’s license after his…indiscretions, he had spent a fair amount of time working as an aviation mechanic to make ends meet.

Even then, at the lowest point of his life, he hadn’t been able to keep himself away from a hangar.

It had been back-breaking work, and Frankie hated having to ask you to stay late when he knew you had your own life, your own friends, your own dreams outside of babysitting his kid, but the repairs were complete now, which meant that none of the instructors would need to cancel any of their lessons for the following day. And when the flight school’s students were, more often than not, rich old men and their trust fund sons who didn’t take well to being told “no,” the extra effort would not go unnoticed.

Now, however, as he shifted his pickup truck into park next to your beat-up old Ford Focus, all he could think about was getting into the air conditioning, taking off his boots, and sitting down at the kitchen table under the ceiling fan with you.

It was the only advantage, really, of these late nights. Infrequent though they were, Frankie couldn’t deny that there was something special about coming home to find his daughter tucked up in bed, happy and tired and well-fed, and you at the table with your schoolwork strewn out in front of you. There was something peaceful and almost painfully domestic about it, something that had his chest swelling with a feeling that he couldn’t quite identify but that he knew for certain was not something one was meant to feel for one’s babysitter.

It was the same feeling he got when you started accepting his offers of coffee in the mornings before he left for work, or when you noticed that he had started purchasing the sugary-sweet creamer you preferred when he had only ever drunk his coffee black. It was the same feeling he got when he came home on one of the first nights of this fucking wretched heatwave to find you chasing his daughter around the back yard with an armful of water balloons, the both of you soaked to the skin and giggling as you pelted each other relentlessly.

It was the same feeling he got when he walked you out to your car and he watched you grip the driver’s door handle so tight your knuckles turned pale, watched you glance down at his lips one too many times to be proper. Soft mouth parted, long lashes casting shadows across your sun-kissed cheeks, perfect breasts rising and falling with your quickened breath –

Frankie brought the heels of his hands up to his eyes, pressing hard, scrubbing across his face to banish the thought. He had no business thinking of you like that, noticing you like that, and he needed to get it together before he walked through the front door and found you precisely where he had imagined you. This might have been his home, but it was your place of work, and he refused to be one of those skeevy dads who made the babysitter uncomfortable.

Gathering himself, Frankie hopped down out of the truck and jogged up the front porch steps. Slipping his keyring from his front pocket, he opened the door as quietly as he could manage and kicked his well-worn boots off onto the mat inside the entryway.

Before he could announce his arrival, however, your voice called out to him, hushed and warm.

“Welcome home, Mr. Morales,” you said sweetly, glancing up at him from your favorite chair at his table. He could see you there through the kitchen doorway, hair piled haphazardly on top of your head, eyes tired but soft, happy. You had gotten even more sun today, your cheeks, nose, and forehead tinged with pink, and you wore an oversized T-shirt and a pair of almost sinfully short shorts, the kind with the elastic waist that looked soft to the touch. Frankie tried and failed not to trace the length of your legs with his eyes, not to imagine the plush softness of your thighs, the suppleness of your calves.

Dragging his gaze back up to your face, praying that you hadn’t caught the trajectory of his traitor eyes, he was somewhat surprised to find you studying him, as well. Rather intently, as a matter of fact. He squinted down at himself, puzzled, and noticed for the first time what you must be staring at: he was a mess.

He was smudged with grease from head to toe, dark streaks of the oily substance arcing across his jeans, his uniform polo, his bare forearms, the backs of his hands. His skin, where it was visible, shone with sweat in the dim entryway light, and his shirt clung to his upper body like a second skin from the heat (moisture-wicking fabric, his ass). The weather would have been enough to have him in a state, but the late night combined with the manual labor had clearly taken its toll.

He watched the long column of your throat bob as you swallowed thickly.

“Rough day?” you asked after a beat of tense silence, keeping your voice low so as not to wake Mila.

Frankie felt his lips lift at the corner, offering you a fatigued half-smile. “A bit, yeah. But better now.”

You pressed your mouth into a thin line as though smothering a grin. “Glad to hear it.” Gesturing at the chair opposite you, you added, “Why don’t you come have a seat, and I’ll heat up some leftovers for you? You have to be starving.”

Fuck, now that you mentioned it, he was starving. He and the small crew of mechanics had taken a brief snack break while they worked, partaking of whatever hodgepodge of junk they had been able to liberate from the vending machine in the office, but that bag of chips and stale granola bar had left his system hours ago now. Still, even as his stomach growled with hunger, he couldn’t help but protest, “You don’t need to do that, cariño. It’s not your job to cook for me on top of everything else you do around here.”

You waved his words away with a flippant flick of your wrist, already on your feet and heading for the refrigerator. “I’ve told you, it’s not a problem. I cook anyway for me and Mila. Why wouldn’t I make a little extra for you while I’m at it?” You glanced over your shoulder at him. “Now sit down. I’ve got this.”

As the container of leftover pasta rotated in the pale yellow light of the microwave, you took a moment to gather yourself, to reign in the surge of want that had pulsed through you at the sight of your employer hovering in the entryway.

Miles of golden tan skin shining with sweat, pooling in the little hollow at the base of his neck. His uniform polo unbuttoned as far down as it would go, showing a sliver of gray ribbed undershirt. Grease smudged across one high cheekbone, streaked across his hands. You needed those hands on you, needed him to transfer those dark marks onto your skin, your clothes, to leave a trail across your body so you could remember everywhere he had touched you, so you could see it when you looked in the mirror.

“How was Mila today? She behave herself all right?”

You startled at the sound of his voice, quickly schooling your face into what you hoped was a pleasantly neutral expression before turning back around to face him. “Oh, yeah, she was great. We had a good day today.”

Frankie – Mr. Morales – smiled fondly at that. “Good, that’s good. No more, uh, meltdowns in the afternoon?”

“No, things have been pretty smooth since we started digging through that article I found. ‘30 Activities to Keep Kids Cool in the Summer’ or whatever. It’s been a huge help.” You chuckled wryly. “Once I figured out a way to let her be outside in the afternoons without running the risk of heatstroke, she’s been great.”

“Right, right.” He settled himself in the chair across from yours, running the side of his fingers across his patchy stubble in thought. “That’s what gave you the idea for the water balloons that one day, right?”

The microwave beeped twice, the golden light inside flickering off, and you grabbed the steaming leftover container as you spoke. “Yeah, exactly. And the sprinkler, and turning paint into ice cubes and using it like chalk.” Snagging a fork from the silverware drawer, you handed both to the exhausted man and slid back into your seat.

He tossed you a grateful smile and dug into the meal with gusto, loosing a quiet groan at the first bite. “Shit, that’s good,” he sighed, dark eyes fluttering closed in a way that had your heartrate spiking. “Thank you for this, cariño. You’re a lifesaver.”

Warmth blossomed in your chest, and you fought the urge to reach out and squeeze his shoulder comfortingly. “Of course, it’s my pleasure.”

Shoving a few more bites into his mouth, he asked, “Didn’t you freeze her Barbies one day, too?”

“Yeah, I did!” It had been one of Mila’s favorites so far of the heatwave-proof activities you had planned for her, and the memory of it had you chuckling. “I took a couple of her dolls and a bunch of their accessories, put them in a few of those sand buckets you guys have in the garage, filled those with water, and then froze them overnight. It took her hours to dig them all out, but hey. It kept her busy, and she didn’t overheat in the process, so I’ll take it.”

Mr. Morales grinned at that, plucking a napkin from the holder in the center of the table, scrubbing it across his sauce-stained moustache. “Incredible. You know, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all the extra effort you’ve been going to with her lately. I know it’s a lot, just looking after her eight hours a day, every day. But with this heat, I know she’s going stir-crazy.” He glanced down at his meal, something almost bashful creeping into his expression. “Pretty sure she gets that from me. Never been real good at sitting still, being stuck indoors.”

“It’s really nothing, Mr. Morales,” you insisted, brushing away the praise with a swipe of your hand.

“No. S’not nothing.” His low voice had gone serious now, and when he glanced back up at you, his eyes were wide, dark, and earnest. “The way you take care of her? The way you always seem to just…know what she needs? That’s everything.” You swore you saw his cheeks darken, swore you saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. “And I told you. S’okay if you call me Frankie. That Mr. Morales stuff makes me feel old.”

You drew your lower lip between your teeth, gaze flicking down to your hands as the intensity of the eye contact became too much to handle. “If you’re sure,” you agreed after a moment. “I don’t want to…presume.”

“Not presuming,” he disagreed, shaking his head. “We’re…friends, right, cariño? Friends can call each other by their first names.”

Something in your stomach ached at his words, but he sounded so genuine, so hopeful that you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. “Suppose that’s true… Frankie.”

Fucking Christ.

Maybe that hadn’t been the right call, Frankie thought. Maybe he shouldn’t have suggested you call him that, not when your voice sounded so sweet wrapped around his name, not when the hour was so late, the house so silent, like you were the only two people awake in the world. That kind of intimacy, it was going to give him…ideas.

Eager to distract himself from the moment, he plowed onward. “Well, what was the activity today?” he asked, stabbing another selection of pasta and vegetables with his fork.

You appeared to consider the question for a moment before replying, “Actually, it’s more of ‘show’ thing than a ‘tell’ thing, so if you don’t mind holding that thought for a minute, I’ll show you after you’re finished eating.”

Frankie arched an eyebrow at you, intrigued. “Okay, sure. I can wait. Why don’t you tell me what you’re working on then instead? Something for school, I assume?” He gestured at the impressive spread of textbooks, printed articles, and your open laptop taking up most of the surface of the kitchen table.

Immediately, you launched into a detailed explanation of your current project, a research proposal for your graduate program that would serve as the capstone of this session of summer classes. He would freely admit that he only understood bits and pieces of it, his formal education having ended with his high school graduation, but he always enjoyed asking you about your schoolwork. The way you lit up when you talked about the subjects you were passionate about, your animated gestures, your wide, sparkling eyes, all of it was deeply endearing to him. He loved how passionate you were, the way you chased after your goals with fire and focus. It was one of his favorite things about you, and he felt as though that list might be growing longer by the day.

Your monologue about your research proposal gave him the perfect opportunity to finish his meal, so that by the time you had come to the end of your explanation, Frankie was dropping his fork into the now-empty container and leaning back in his chair, pleasantly full and satisfied.

“Oh,” you gasped, seeming to come back to yourself as you took in his relaxed posture, the little smile on his face. “Wow, I really just went on and on there, huh? Sorry about that, I guess I get a little overexcited about my research.”

“Don’t apologize. I like how fired up about it you get, it’s cute.”

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, a little too honest, a little too real, and Frankie braced himself for the shift in your demeanor that was sure to follow. The awkwardness, the clear discomfort at the too-personal words from your employer. But it never came. Instead, your cheeks darkened under his gaze, a flush spreading down your neck and disappearing into the neckline of your oversized T-shirt.

“You…you think I’m cute?” you stammered, voice a bit breathless in a way that had him shifting in his seat, and he felt a fresh flush of sweat bead up on his forehead, just under the brim of his ballcap, at the sound.

He needed to blow you off, he knew. He needed to make an excuse for the comment, turn it into something mindless, something shallow and impersonal, if he wanted to point this conversation back in the right direction.

“‘Course, cariño,” he said instead. “Who wouldn’t? Might be an old man these days, but I’m not dead yet.”

What was wrong with him?

You blinked back at him for a moment, eyes wide and glossy, lips parted in surprise at the confession, but then you were smiling, something almost…flirtatious in the curve of your lip as you said, “You’re not an old man, Frankie. You’re…experienced.”

Oh, fuck him.

This was a dangerous path the two of you were walking, and in that moment, Frankie wasn’t sure what frightened him more: the eventual destination or the fact that you seemed more than willing to travel it with him.

If he was ever going to make it back to safety, he needed to switch gears. Now.

“How about that activity?” he said quickly. “You gonna show me what you and Mila got up to all day?”

Drawing back from where you had started to lean toward him across the table, you shook your head a bit, as though the question had brought you back to yourself. He watched as the softness and the want in your eyes dissipated, and though he mourned it, he knew it was for the best. The two of you had come too close to crossing that line tonight. You both needed to regain your footing a bit.

“Sure. Actually, it should make for a good dessert.” Getting to your feet once more, you crossed to the refrigerator and opened the freezer door, pulling three medium-sized plastic containers from its depths. The clear plastic fogged up the moment it hit the outside air, obscuring their contents, but Frankie didn’t have to wait for long to see what was inside. A moment later, you spread the three containers out on the kitchen table in front of him and began removing their lids.

Inside the containers was a selection of perfectly chopped, completely frozen fruit. The two of you had clearly used some creatively-shaped cutters to prepare the fruit, as some of the chunks were shaped like little hearts, others looked like tiny stars, and still others looked as though a cutter in the shape of a bunny head had been used. One container held little hunks of bright red watermelon in a full assortment of unique shapes, another boasted chunks of pineapple, also uniquely prepared, and in the last container, a medley of green and red grapes had been halved down the center for easy eating.

“What tastes better on a hot day than fresh fruit?” you asked cheerily. “We cut it up together out on the patio first thing this morning so it would have time to freeze. Mila wanted me to tell you that she did the watermelon because it’s pink and that’s her favorite.”

Frankie glanced up at you, meeting your eyes over the frosty containers. “That sounds about right,” he chuckled.

“I ended up having to hose down the concrete by the time we were done, but it made a great snack when it got miserable out. She was going back and forth between the sprinkler and her bowl on the patio all afternoon.”

He grinned at the image you painted, thinking of his little girl in her pink bathing suit, wild brown ringlets wet and clinging to her scalp, grass sticking to her feet as she danced through the spray of the sprinkler, darting back to grab a hunk of watermelon or a frozen grape, the juice dripping from her little fingers.

“Help yourself,” you encouraged, sitting back down across from him. “I’ll have some with you.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “Shouldn’t I…grab us some forks?”

You shrugged, that fucking grin making its way back onto your face. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

And with that, you fluttered your fingertips over the container of frozen grapes, plucked one from the pile, and slipped it into your mouth with a satisfied sigh. You might have started chatting then, might have begun asking him if he had any fun plans for the upcoming weekend and offered a summary of yours in return, but Frankie hardly heard a word of it. He was too preoccupied with your…snacking.

The plushness of your lips, the little peek of your slick, pink tongue each time you opened them, the way you seemed to allow the fruit to linger in your mouth as it defrosted. Heart-shaped watermelon had pale pink juice spilling out of the corner of your mouth, making it halfway down your chin before you delicately swiped it away with the tip of your middle finger. A pineapple star had you smiling softly as you enjoyed the burst of tartness over your tastebuds.

And those grapes.

Those goddamn fucking grapes, with their slick, frosty skin and their subtle, gentle sweetness – those you softly, almost absently traced over the seam of your lips before slipping them inside. Like you were savoring the sensation unconsciously, like the cool wetness of them quenched something in you that you weren’t even aware required attention. They made your mouth glisten in the low light, the shine of it so tempting he was certain that he hadn’t looked away from it in several minutes now.

In the back of his mind, he knew he needed to get ahold of himself. There was no way you hadn’t noticed; he had to be making you uncomfortable by now. But he just…couldn’t. God, you looked good enough to eat, with your messy hair and your sun-pinked cheeks and your bright eyes and your soft, bare legs.

A droplet of sweat traveled down the side of his face, streaking down his temple, his jaw, his neck.

Your mouth looked cool, and it looked sweet.

“…Frankie?”

Frankie startled at the sound of his name on your tongue, and his gaze snapped back up to your eyes instantly, a wicked flush blazing up the back of his neck and over his skull in mortification. Shit, you had noticed him staring, this was such a major fuck-up –

“Hm? What’s that, cariño?” His voice came out weak and raspy, like his throat had gone dry, and he cleared it loudly.

“I was saying, you don’t want any of the fruit?” You looked him over with wide, innocent eyes, and for the first time, Frankie realized that he hadn’t taken a single bite.

“Uh. A-Actually, I think I might be too full at the moment,” he stammered, bringing a hand up to pat himself across the belly in excuse.

The little confused quirk of your head told him immediately that you didn’t believe him. Scooting your chair across the hardwood floor, you came to sit directly next to him and gently scolded, “Frankie, you’ve been out working in this heat all night. You need to rehydrate. Here, you have room for a few pieces. Open up, okay?”

One of those slick, dewy grape halves appeared between your thumb and forefinger then, and the next thing he knew, you were holding it out to him. Not to take with his own hand, but to eat. It was a mere hairsbreadth away from his mouth.

Unable to formulate a suitable protest, his brain suddenly feeling rather detached from his body, all Frankie could do was drop his jaw and allow you to slip the fruit inside.

The pads of your fingers touched the soft, sensitive skin of his lower lip, and that was when he was certain that not only had his brain seemingly walked away on its own, it had turned fully off. That was the only explanation he could come up with for why the moment he registered the delicate touch, he immediately seized your wrist in one of his fists, dragging your fingers fully into his mouth.

A loud, feminine gasp met his ears as he swiped his tongue between your fingertips, stealing the frozen fruit from your grasp, pressing it firmly against the roof of his mouth to squash it, and quickly swallowing it down. His tongue returned to your skin, lapping at the frost and the condensation and the delicate, sweet juices coating your fingertips, and he watched as your eyes glazed over at the sensation. Your wrist went limp in his grasp, your fingers pliant, never once attempting to withdraw, and the ball of heat that had been brewing in his gut all night suddenly reached a fever pitch as he realized that you liked this.

Cock twitching in his jeans, he drew your fingers from his mouth. Both his eyes and yours followed the fine trail of saliva that stretched from his lip to the tip of your index finger, and he heard your swallow heavily at the sight.

“Frankie,” you whispered weakly.

And then his restraint abandoned him just as his mind had, and before he could think better of it, his hands were cupping your face and dragging you bodily to meet him in a hard, messy kiss.

Francisco Morales kissed like he did everything else – with intention, with competence, and with a raw, simmering fire that lingered just below the surface just waiting to be unveiled. To be stoked. To be nurtured.

The presence of that fire had your squirming in your seat, had your neck bending back on your shoulders in submission to the intensity of his assault. His thumbs, long and thick, pressed into your jaw from either side, wrenching you open, and his tongue slipped inside, immediately seeking your own with a desperation that drew a soft, muffled moan from your throat. Your own hands flew to the sweat-damp collar of his polo, and you dug your fingers into the fabric, holding him, keeping him just as fiercely as he kept you. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears, pulsed between your thighs, growing sensitive and tender there when wetness bloomed.

With a low, rasping groan, Frankie broke the kiss and began tracing his prominent nose across your cheek, along the edge of your jaw, down your bare neck.

“You taste so fucking sweet, querida. Cold and…delicious and…perfect.”

Punctuating his words with hot, open-mouthed kisses across your skin, his voice rough and raw and sounding like the confession had been dragged from his chest against his will, it was enough to have sweat breaking out on the back of your neck, behind your knees, at the base of your spine.

“Frankie,” you breathed, threading your grip into his hair, curling his dark brown locks around your fingers, scraping along his scalp. “Please – ”

His hands dropped from your jaw then, sweeping around the width of your hips and hauling you into his lap. Instinctually, your thighs spread to bracket his waist, the weight of you coming to rest on his spread-legged lap, and you couldn’t help but moan at the thick, hard press of him against the softness of your cunt.

“This okay, baby?” he murmured against your skin, nuzzling against the neckline of your shirt, broad palms dragging down over your ass to hold you down, press you to him.

You whimpered and felt your body going soft, warm, and pliant beneath his touch. “Mm hm!” Hips hitching, grinding against him of their own accord, you pulled his face back up to meet yours, smothering your own gasps and whines in his mouth.

It didn’t last long, however. After a few quick licks against your tongue, Frankie pulled away, pressing his forehead against yours and knocking his Standard Oil cap to the floor.

“Uh uh, need to hear the words, cariño. Won’t do anything you don’t want me doing.” Wrapping his fingers around your messy bun, he angled your face down so that your heavy-lidded eyes met his. “I’ll ask you again. You want me touching you? You want me to make you feel good?”

Your eyes drifted shut, your mind gone warm and hazy. God, the things this man did to you. Did he know how long you had wanted this? How hard you had fought against it? He couldn’t know. If he did, he would never ask such a question.

“Yes, please, Frankie,” you gasped, nodding against his hold, brushing the tip of your nose against his.

“Yes, please, what, bebita?” You could hear a smirk in his voice now, and the sound had you flushing down to the tips of your toes, a fresh rush of wetness soaking your panties as you squirmed against him.

Tucking your face against his sweaty neck, you whispered, “Please…please make me feel good.”

Frankie was on his feet in an instant, boosting you into his arms in a move that had your stomach dropping down through your abdomen both in shock and in arousal. He backed you into the table, your hips bumping into the wooden edge, and the snap of pain had a brief flash of clarity flying through your lust-filled brain fog.

“Frankie, my books – ”

The older man swore under his breath – “fuck, right” – before changing course, bringing you instead over to the arm of the peninsula that extended out into the room from the edge of the kitchen. Kicking one of the two barstools out of the way, he dropped you unceremoniously onto the countertop before dragging you down for another kiss.

He ate at your mouth like a man starved, sucking on your lips, dragging his teeth across your skin, licking against the roof of your mouth. It was wet, sloppy, and so hot, his desperation contagious, encouraging you to match him caress for caress. No one had ever kissed you like this, like the kissing was the main event rather than a means to an end. Frankie kissed like that was the entire point, and it had you melting against the counter. You were dripping through your shorts now, you were sure of it.

“Can taste all that fruit on your tongue. Sweetest thing I ever tasted,” he growled, keeping his voice low. “But I can think of at least one other thing that might be even sweeter.”

Jesus fucking Christ. Your boss was going to eat you out on his kitchen counter.

“Lean back, bebita.” The words were spoken against your cheeks, brushed into your skin by the suddenly tender touch of his lips, the rasp of his whiskers, the press of his chin. “Let me take care of you.”

You did as he asked, releasing your hold on his broad shoulders and sinking back onto your elbows. The granite was cool to the touch, sending goosebumps along your arms and down your spine, but the sensation was a welcome one after the oppressive heat of the day, the heat of his body on yours.

His palms snaked beneath the hem of your T-shirt, bunching it up onto your belly to reveal the waistband of your shorts. Hooking his thumbs into the elastic without preamble, he murmured, “Lift your hips a bit for me, baby.” Again, you obeyed without question, and with a few short tugs, Frankie pulled both your shorts and your slick-stained panties down your legs to drop to the hardwood floor.

You felt a fierce blush flare in your cheeks, spreading down your neck and chest with a speed that had you gasping for air. The ceiling fan over the kitchen table – you could feel its breeze from here, the cool rush of air instantly pulling a shiver from you as it hit your wet, swollen pussy. You kept yourself bare in the summer, finding it easier and less stressful whenever you wanted to wear a swimsuit, and laid out like this on display, thighs spread around Frankie’s broad body, the cold fan hitting your most vulnerable skin, you couldn’t help but feel a bit…overexposed. The reality of your situation hit you like a freight train, and you found yourself fighting the urge to snap your legs closed against the eyes of your boss.

It was as though Frankie could read your mind. Not a moment after the thought occurred to you, you felt his big hands clamp onto your thighs and pull them apart even wider.

“Don’t you dare try to hide from me. She’s so fucking beautiful,” he tutted, and you risked a glance at his face only to find him staring intently down at your cunt. “You been walking around my house with a naked pussy like this all summer, baby? Dirty girl.” His dark brown eyes had gone almost black with lust, his irises only a faint ring around his wide pupils, and in a gesture that seemed entirely unconscious, he darted the tip of his tongue out to wet his bottom lip. He looked utterly fascinated. Entranced. Hungry. The sight had your walls clenching around nothing, and you watched him watch that happen with an eagerness that had you moaning aloud.

When he spoke again, he was a man in thrall. “‘M gonna eat this pretty pussy now, querida. Gotta be quiet for me, okay? Don’t wanna wake Mila.”

You nodded, bringing one of your hands up to cover your mouth preemptively. This man was going to have you screaming, you just knew it. Flicking his gaze up to yours for just a moment, he grinned wickedly at the sight.

“That’s a good girl, baby,” he whispered, and then his face was in your cunt, and you felt your every coherent thought fly out the window.

If Frankie had thought that your mouth tasted sweet, your tongue like candy, then your pussy was fruit on the vine, straight from the vineyard, drenched in sunshine. It was hot, deep, and rich, earthy and tangy and drugging, like a late summer afternoon, like a hazy day in August. This had always been one of his favorite things to do with women, one of his favorite ways to please them, and never – not once – had it ever been like this. From the moment his tongue touched your delicate, dripping folds, he knew – there would be no going back from this. Not for him. He couldn’t experience something like this and not crave it every day for the rest of his life.

He started with soft, light strokes with tip of his tongue, tracing just the very edges of your lips from down near your entrance all the way to the top of your mound. Then again, slowly pressing deeper but never with any more than the faintest pressure. Even so, you responded instantly, a panting, high-pitched whine sounding behind the press of your palm over your mouth. Your hips bucked against his mouth, trying to increase the pressure, to draw him further into you, but he had one of his arms bracketing the span of your hips before you could make much progress.

Driving you firmly into the countertop, he held your knees open with the breadth of his shoulders and boldly dragged the flat of his tongue through your folds. “Keep quiet, now, bebita. I’m gonna take care of you.”

With that, Frankie felt himself begin to disappear, to melt into you from his position between your legs. Your soft thighs bracketing his shoulders, your heels digging into his back, your pussy, so soft, so hot, so sweet as you dissolved beneath his tongue. You were drooling for him, your clenching, grasping hole fluttering against his tongue every time he passed over it, your clit swollen and throbbing under the suction of his lips. You had collapsed back against the countertop now, one hand still pressed firmly over your mouth, the other burying itself in his hair, anchoring him to your body with a strength he found both surprising and wildly attractive. And with every lick, every suck, every vibration of a moan that spilled from his mouth into your flesh, he could feel you drawing higher, tighter, deeper.

He knew what you needed. He knew what would get you there.

Tucking his free hand beneath his chin, Frankie slipped one, then two thick fingers into the tight, velvety clutch of your cunt.

You shot up off the counter, your torso curling around his head, your hand in his hair fisting the strands roughly in your overwhelm. Sharp bolts of pain erupted across his scalp, but it was a welcome sensation, somehow grounding in its intensity. He smirked against your folds, sealing his lips around your puffy clit and rolling the little nub around with his tongue. At the same time, he pressed gently, insistently against the front wall of your cunt, applying steady friction and pressure with both fingertips.

A faint whimper slipped from you at that, muffled by your palm but not silent, and Frankie felt himself preen. God, he loved this. It wouldn’t be long now.

“You gonna come for me? Gonna let me feel her gush around my fingers? On my tongue? Hm?”

The hand on your mouth fell away, joining the one in his hair as you began to tremble beneath him. “Frankie,” you whined. “‘M gonna – you’re gonna make me – ”

“I know, baby, I know.” He kept his fingers right where they were, shallow thrusts, firm pressure right where you needed it most. “Just let it happen. I’ve got you.” Ducking his head back down to your clit, he resumed the combination of gentle suction and firm, long strokes that had driven you wild.

And just like clockwork, your thighs began to shake against his shoulders. Your abdomen clenched beneath his forearm. Your slick, soft walls clamped down around his fingers. A weak, breathless sound – “ah” – burst from your throat, and then you were coming. A rush of your wetness dripped down his fingers, coating his hand, pooling in the cup of his palm as you pulsed and fluttered around him, and Frankie could feel your poor, abused little clit twitching against his tongue. He worked you through it, slowing down a bit but not stopping, prolonging the torment just a bit longer. Only when your two hands buried in his hair started to shove against him, pushing him away, did he relent, and even then, it took him an extra few seconds to be willing to slip his fingers from your body.

Looking up into your face, Frankie felt a wash of joy and contentment pass over him. You were positively glowing – your skin flushed and ever-so-slightly sweaty, your hair wild and mussed, your T-shirt bunched up above your belly button, so much of your perfect softness on display. And you were grinning like a fool, your eyes showing your fatigue but your smile brighter than he had ever seen. You looked at him with a gentleness, an affection that had his heart clenching in his chest, and he was certain that his expression was much the same.

It had been years since he had felt this way about anyone, and even then, he wasn’t certain it could compare.

When you sat up and slipped from the counter, it was a slow and lazy affair, assisted by his firm grip and his steady arms to help keep you upright. The moment your feet hit the floor, you reached for his belt with a question in your eyes, to which Frankie responded, “Not tonight, querida. Tonight was about you.” You seemed somewhat disappointed by that response, but you didn’t push it. Instead, you simply pulled his head down for a kiss, which he gladly obliged. You sighed into his mouth at the taste of yourself on his tongue, and it took every ounce of strength he had in him not to take back what he had just said, to drag your hands back down to his belt buckle and allow you to proceed as you wished.

But no.

It was late. You needed to get home and get to sleep, and he needed to wash off the heat of the day before passing out in his own bed. There would be a little girl busting down his door at 7:00 AM tomorrow whether he was ready for her or not, and you would be back in this very kitchen by 8:00 eager to share a cup of coffee with too-sweet creamer before he left for work.

So, like the gentleman that he wasn’t certain that he was, Frankie helped you slip back into your little shorts, pack your overflowing bookbag, and carry your things out to your car.

You turned to him one last time before you slipped into the driver’s seat, a soft if uncertain smile playing at the corners of your lips. “Mr. Morales – Frankie, I…” You drew your lower lip between your teeth. “Thank you. For tonight.”

His heart melted at your words, the quiet, hesitating way you said them. It was a vulnerability he wasn’t accustomed to from you, you who always seemed to have it all together, you who matched his advances beat for beat, never wavering. “Don’t need to thank me, baby. I wanted to. You take such good care of me, of Mila. You deserved it.” Releasing a deep, trembling breath, he added, “And…I’d like to do it again sometime. If you’ll let me.”

“That depends,” you replied.

“Yeah? On what?”

Your soft, sweet smile morphed into something sharper then, something with more intent. “On if you’ll let me return the favor. It’s like you said…I want to.”

Frankie couldn’t have reigned in the grin that split his face then if he tried. Dropping a kiss to your forehead, he said, “‘Course, cariño. I’m not done with your sweetness just yet.”

[moonhoures]

baby

pairing: jake (enhypen) + reader (fem.)

genre: non-idol!au, college!au (barely), smut

warnings: explicit smut, 18+, minors do not interact, friends with benefits, masturbation (fem.), oral (fem. receiving), fingering, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex irl!), pull out method, pet name “baby” for reader

word count: ~4.3K

a/n: based heavily off of the lyrics of madison beer’s song “baby”! hope you enjoy 😚

posted: august 7th, 2023

One downside of living with a roommate was the lack of alone time. You liked having your privacy and found yourself looking forward to the times when you got the apartment to yourself. Fortunately enough, your roommate had been working with their friend on a project for a class and the due date was tomorrow. So, they had told you they were going to stay the night at their partner’s dorm for the night so they could work on finishing their project. You did a good job at hiding how elated you were about this information, but you were already planning what you would spend the night doing.

They left right before dinner time, so you ordered some take-out for yourself. You dined in the living room, watching an episode of your favorite TV show. Then you went to take a shower, not worried about taking too long because your roommate wouldn’t be waiting on you like usual. You let your music play as loud as you wanted, and you sang at the top of your lungs. You walked from the bathroom to your room, draped only in your towel, and decided to put on a cute sleep set you had gotten from Victoria’s Secret.

With your hair still damp, and a sheen on your skin, you stood in front of the full length mirror at the corner of your room. You admired the set on you. It had sat at the bottom of your pajama drawer for months, forgotten, until tonight. You forgot how cute it looked on you. The black, silky material felt so good on you, and the floral trim hugged the top of your breasts nicely. You looked too damn good to keep to yourself.

You took your phone from the top of your dresser and opened the camera app, snapping some sultry pictures of yourself. You didn’t have any intentions of sending them to anyone in that moment, but you never know. The opportunity could arise someday where you could send them to someone.

After your makeshift photoshoot, you went back to the living room to watch a movie and enjoy some dessert. The movie you threw on was one you had seen many times before, so you were only vaguely paying attention. About an hour into it you found yourself growing bored. You switched the movie to one you had never seen before, hoping it would keep your attention this time.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t. Another hour passed, and you were growing restless. You felt uncomfortable despite being in the most comfortable pajamas, on the coziest couch, in the plushest blanket you had. Then, as the two main leads in the rom-com that you were half-enjoying started to make out, it dawned on you. You were horny.

You reclined yourself length-wise on the couch, sliding your hand under the silky shorts, feeling your folds. The pads of your fingers started to rub up and down the skin, attempting to warm them up. After a minute or so, you began to move your fingertips around your clit. Your body felt like it was heating up from the stimulation, but after several minutes there was practically no progress. Something didn’t feel right, and you weren’t sure exactly what. You wet the pads of your middle and ring fingers, going in for a second attempt, massaging your labia. You felt yourself growing wetter, but the usual feeling of excitement just wasn’t there. Maybe it’s just one of those nights, you thought to yourself. It just didn’t feel as good as you wanted it to. It felt incomplete.

For a moment you contemplated calling the one person that you knew could help you ease the tension you were riddled with. Then you decided, fuck it.

You grabbed your phone from beside you, opening it and going straight to the contacts. Your fingertips expertly swiped right to his name, tapping it before bringing the phone to your ear. While the dialing tone rang a couple times, you twirled the drawstrings of your sleep shorts. The line picked up and you instinctively sat up straighter.

“Someone better be dying.”

You smirked to yourself, “You know I wouldn’t call you this late unless something was wrong.”

There was a muffled sound from his end, like he was sitting up in bed. For a second you worried you might’ve woken him up—only for a second, though, “So, what’s wrong, ________?”

“I’m bored. And I really need you to come keep me company.”

Jake wasn’t stupid, far from it, actually. He was one of the smartest people you knew. It was one of the many things that made him so attractive.

“So you’re horny? _______, you do know it’s almost one in the morning, right?”

You tried to stifle a laugh, but the smile was still in your voice when you spoke, “Come on, Jake. I need you so bad. It’s been so long since you came over.”

Jake scoffed, “You were at my dorm three nights ago.”

“Yeah, that’s why I said ‘since you came over’. Keep up, Sim.”

The corner of your lips lifted further into a hopeful smile when there was a long pause. He hadn’t said “no” yet, which is a really good sign. The odds of him coming over were highly in your favor.

“You can’t just masturbate or something? I have class in the morning, so I really need to sleep.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’ve tried. It doesn’t feel as good as you do. And I have class tomorrow, too. We could always skip, though. My roommate won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon, so we could always have round two in the morning.”

Another, longer pause. You were so close.

“You’re crazy.”

He just needed one more push, then he would surely come running. You had an idea.

“I might be, but I always keep you coming back for more. If it sways your decision, I took some really cute pictures earlier. Fresh out of the shower,” while you spoke, you opened your text messages with him and quickly selected some of the mirror photos you took. You sent them without any hesitation, your heart pumping a little faster when they were immediately marked as ‘Read’.

A small groan emitted from him, and that’s when you knew you had won him over. He was coming, whether he liked it or not. Thank God you took those pictures.

“I’ll be there in ten.”

“The door will be open for you, as always,” you sing-songed to him before hanging up. You happily kicked your feet beneath the blanket that shrouded you. As stated before, there were many things to love about Jake, and one of them was how absolutely down bad for you he was. Sure, you two weren’t dating or anything; you two had just been casually hooking up for the past five months. But that didn’t stop him from practically worshipping you. He loved everything about you. He agreed to your decision to stay as friends with benefits because he figured if that was the only way to have a relationship with you, then so be it.

Several minutes passed, and you got up to go back to your room while you waited for him to arrive. You laid on top of the duvet on your bed, propping yourself up against your pillows to get comfortable. Just the thought of Jake coming over alone made you even more horny. You were already imagining how the night would go. There was no doubt in your mind that he would ask—no, beg—to eat you out, like he usually did. So you looked forward to that.

His tongue always felt so good between your folds, lapping up the juices that leaked from you for him. Because it was always for him, and only him. That was his favorite part. You grew restless at the thought of him and how he would touch you. How long would you have to wait for him?

You figured you could get started now, returning your fingers back to your heat. This time it felt much better, but there was still that feeling of insufficiency. Still, you were determined to feel something. So you continued with a vigor, massaging your clit, chasing any semblance of a release. Your knees were twitching and your toes were flexing as you started to feel the smallest hint of an orgasm.

“You started without me?”

You could hear the pout before you saw it. You didn’t even realize you had closed your eyes until you opened them to see Jake in the doorway of your room, dressed in gray sweatpants and a navy blue t-shirt. His blond hair was tousled (likely un-brushed) and confirmed that he had been sleeping when you called him.

“I couldn’t wait any longer,” you admitted, keeping a slow, steady rhythm on your folds. There was no shame anymore when it came to Jake. He had seen you in your most vulnerable states (sexually) so you weren’t embarrassed around him anymore. If anything, you knew it turned him on to watch you masturbate, “Are you just gonna stand and watch?”

Jake didn’t bother answering you; instead he just walked up to your bed and started to climb on. He had left his shoes at your front door before locking it behind him, so there was no hesitation. He knew exactly what he wanted, and his eyes were locked on it, covered in the thin, black, silky material. His mouth was already watering as he moved on hands and knees up your bed between your legs. He could practically taste you already.

Your boy toy was stopped in his tracks as your foot rested on the top of his shoulder, keeping him from moving any further. His eyebrows scrunched together and his lips formed into a pout as he sunk down in defeat. His glossy brown eyes resembled a wounded puppy when he looked up at you, looking for a reason as to why you were stopping him.

“Why are your clothes still on?” you asked simply, mirroring his pout. Though, while his was genuine, yours was mocking.

“I can take them off later,” he said, “I just wanna eat you out first.”

“At least take your shirt off, or you won’t be eating anything,” you set your foot back down on the bed and waited patiently for him to comply. He always did. He was a good boy.

Although impatient, he sat up and pulled the navy t-shirt over his torso and flung it behind him onto the floor. His hair stuck up in some places, but neither of you cared. He helped you tug your panties off before he got back down onto his stomach. His shoulders fit themselves between your knees, pushing them more to the side to make room. Honestly, that’s why you wanted his shirt off—to see his shoulders. They were broad and smooth, and you liked watching the way his back muscles flexed.

You watched as he sunk his face between the plush of your thighs, inhaling your familiar scent before pressing his flat tongue against your lips and dragging them up past your clit. You swore you heard him moan, but maybe you were hearing things.

Your legs shifted with his movements as he ate you out like a starved animal. If Jake was anything, it was a passionate pussy worshipper. He treated every time like it would be his last time. Sometimes you wondered if he was like this with every girl he hooked up with or just you.

“Shit, you taste so good,” he groaned after lapping at you for a few minutes. One glance confirmed that his lips were glossed with your juices. The tender skin of his lips were blushed red, “I would pay for pussy like this.”

“I should start charging you then,” you joked breathlessly, your fingers grasping the sheets beside you. His own fingers had begun pumping into you slowly, dragging in and out of your now-wet hole. Each thrust made you more sensitive.

“I would empty my bank account,” he replied without a second thought before diving back in, using his tongue to suckle your clit while his fingers sped up. Your legs tensed around his shoulders and your lower back arched a bit off the mattress. His name left your mouth in a breathy moan, making him go faster. He wanted your cum so bad it was driving him mad, “Cum for me, _______. Come on, baby.”

You clenched on his fingers, your orgasm following shortly after. Jake smiled to himself, watching his fingers pump and collect your cum. He never let any of it go to waste. He stuck his digits in his mouth, licking them clean before returning his tongue to your cunt. Any drop that he could reach was consumed. Even when he was done, he continued to lap at your wet folds, making your thighs twitch, attempting to close and shut him out. That’s when he knew you had enough, so he let up on you. He pressed simple, sweet kisses on the skin between your thighs and just above your groin.

“You taste like candy,” he said matter-of-factly as he sat back on his legs.

“Do I?”

“Mhm, the sweetest pussy ever,” he hummed with a smile that could only be described as pussy-drunk.

“The best you’ve ever had?” you asked, watching his eyes as he hovered over you, his bulge pressing against you through his sweatpants. Your jaw slacked open slightly as you felt him shift his hips subtly against yours.

“Of course, why do you think I always come back for more?”

“You’re right,” you chuckled, hands moving up to his face to bring him closer, “Be honest, though, I’m a handful.”

Just before his lips met yours he said, “That’s what hands are for.”

You hummed in satisfaction into his lips, tongues dancing together slowly, melting into each other with every flick. His hips continued to rut in between your legs, earning small whines and moans from you. You grasped at the top of his sweatpants, tugging at them. And even though he knew very well what you wanted, Jake enjoyed a good tease. So he ignored your want, continuing to leave a hickey below your jaw while you whined in frustration from attempting (and failing) to get his pants off.

A low chuckle erupted in his throat as he noticed you giving up, your hands resting on his waist, “You’re giving up that quick?”

“I’m not begging you to take your pants off,” you said with a hint of brattiness. Jake always called you that—a brat—and he knew it annoyed you. You didn’t want to be a brat, but you were one sometimes. In all honesty, he kind of liked when you acted like this. He liked when your lips pouted and you got impatient. It reminded him of how much you desired him. You two might not be dating, but it was always nice to feel wanted.

“You don’t have to beg,” he spoke so casually as he pulled back a little to look you in the eyes. He noticed a piece of hair clinging to your eyelash, so he moved it out of the way with his finger, “Just ask nicely, baby.”

“Please take your clothes off,” you batted your eyelashes for good measure. Jake’s favorite part of you—besides your pussy, of course—was your lips, but your eyes were a close second.

“Close enough.”

You internally celebrated as he got up to remove the gray sweatpants and his black boxers. You only had a moment to admire his erection before he was getting back on the bed. There usually wasn’t a certain power dynamic between the two of you in these situations—though Jake was very obviously more whipped for you and willing to do what you said. But when it came to positions, he was more likely the one to choose them. He didn’t even bother asking, just telling you or putting you into whatever position he wanted you in, and you usually didn’t mind. You simply propped yourself to his liking and enjoyed the experience, and tonight was no different.

His veiny hands gripped your thigh, and one look of his eyes let you know how he wanted you. You turned onto your stomach, and his hand pushed one of your knees up so that your cunt was spread for him. He got behind you, slightly straddling your leg that was still straight. His other knee was just behind yours that was bent. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel him pumping his dick in preparation. The sounds were already wet, presumably from his spit, and boy were they arousing. You could feel yourself growing wetter by the second.

“Ready?” he asked in that sultry accent of his.

“Mhm,” you were practically moaning already. You clenched at nothing, full of anticipation before you felt him at your entrance. You subconsciously sucked in your breath while he slowly slid into you. A small hiss escaped his lips as your tight walls hugged him, almost threatening to never let go—not that he wanted them to anyways.

“Fuck,” he whispered out, head thrown back as he bottomed out inside of you. A smirk played on the edge of his lips.

You barely gave him a moment to enjoy the feeling of just being inside of you before you started to push your butt up against him. His hands quickly caught you by the hips, stopping you and making you whine. He shook his head, but he gave you what you wanted nonetheless. He began to thrust into you at a moderate, shallow pace. His knees dug more into the mattress with every stroke, which progressively got quicker and more harsh as he went on. You never complained though, living for the roughness. You let out a string of groans and phrases that spurred him to keep going.

“How’s that, baby?” his voice sounded closer than before, and it was then you realized he was hovered over you now. His hands were digging into the bed beside each of your shoulders. His lips placed a kiss on your back just beside your neck.

“Perfect,” you replied. That was the only way you could think to describe it. The pace was great, a little fast but not too fast. Jake’s cock wasn’t too big or too small, it was just right; it was like it was made for you. And he knew just how to use it, hitting you so good it made you drool.

You were on the verge of tears from how good he felt, babbling some nonsense to him. He merely laughed softly at you, joking that you sounded dumb but that you “looked so cute like this”. You wondered what was so cute about you getting fucked to the point you could barely speak coherently or lift your head properly.

There was a pressure beginning to form in your lower tummy and you hummed, arching your back and stuffing your head into the pillow below you. You let out a load moan when he gripped your waist even tighter and deepened his thrusts, slowing down the slightest amount. You could feel him so well like this. You felt so full. So warm. While your moans were muffled by the pillow, his were let out proudly into the room.

“I love this pussy when it’s all mine,” he spoke breathlessly as he slowed down even further, treating every stroke like it had a purpose. He could feel you clenching around him, getting closer. It was driving him insane, “Isn’t that right, baby? All mine?”

You spoke but it was useless, he couldn’t hear anything because of the pillows. With the patience of an angel, he reached up with one hand to grip your hair. He gently pulled your head to the side and slid some of the stray hair away so he could see your face.

“What was that?” he teased, that damn smirk remaining on his lips.

“All yours,” you mumbled, glancing back at him.

His eyes seemed to darken from the contact, and he resumed picking up the pace just enough to get your orgasm closer again. You stuffed one of your arms between you and the bed, wedging it under your body until you felt your core. The moisture collecting on it from Jake’s thrusts was enough to help you massage your clit.

The room got to the point where it felt ten degrees hotter, and your body felt on fire, especially in your lower regions. The pressure had returned in full force, getting lower and lower. You begged Jake to make you cum, and who was he to deny you? He kept the pace up for you religiously, not faltering for even a second. Not even when your insides twitched and convulsed around him, seemingly wanting to anchor him inside of you. He grew even weaker when his name fell from your lips like a song and you came around him. Your insides grew slick, making it easier for him to slide in and out of you. It felt like pure ecstasy to him. He could die now and he’d die a happy man.

He was so lost in that feeling that he hadn’t had the realization that you did in that moment. Even in your orgasmic bliss, your eyes grew wide and your body went stiff.

“I’m gonna cum,” Jake whimpered, now sitting back on his knees while he continued to rut into your messy cunt with a new verve.

“Jake, we didn’t use a condom! You have to pull out,” you tried to stay calm, but your tone very much sounded panicked.

Still, Jake only hesitated for a moment before quickly thrusting again. He wanted—no, needed—to cum soon, “I will, ________, I promise.”

You had no reason to distrust him. After all, Jake was one of the very, very few guys you felt safe having sex with, even more so than some boyfriends you’ve had in the past. You two had only ever not used a condom once before, and that was also because you both forgot one. Luckily, Jake pulled out without you even having to ask, and he was really helpful in calming you down when you worried about it afterwards. You just had to have faith in him this time too.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he panted, his abdomen twitching. He was so close. So close.

“You can’t cum in me, Jake,” you reminded him, taking a deep breath. Despite the fact that you were in panic mode, you couldn’t resist how good he felt. He was still filling you up so perfectly that if you were in any worse state, you probably would’ve let him cum then and there without a care in the world. And you both would’ve loved every second of it.

“Gonna cum,” he repeated, eyes screwing shut. His neck was flushed red. Sweat clung to his hairline. His fingers gripped you like a lifeline. But he wouldn’t let up.

“Don’t you dare cum inside me. Don’t you fucking dare, Ja- Fuck,” your own moaning cut you off, catching you off guard. Your forehead slumped back into the pillows as your eyes screwed shut and your fists tightened.

You clenched on him again, but he managed to pull out with just enough time to spare. The moment his tip fell out of you, the first ropes of his cum were landing on the back of your thigh. Grunts were choked out of him with every spurt, making his body twitch. He let out some quiet expletives, and his hand helped him complete his orgasm, milking everything out onto your leg. Not one drop inside of you, just like you said. Once again, he was your good boy.

“Please tell me you didn’t get any on my bed,” you groaned, looking back at him with hopeful eyes.

He did a quick check, breathing heavily as he lifted your thigh to see beneath it. He shook his head, and you took that as a sign to relax fully onto the pillows. While you kept your eyes closed and recuperated, Jake left the bed to fetch some toilet paper from your bathroom. When he came back, you both mellowed in the comfortable silence while he wiped your leg for you. He took a few seconds between cleaning to admire how sound you looked, as if asleep already. You did look cute when you slept, according to him. No matter how rough he would be with you in bed, he always saw you as the one he would do anything for and protect until you didn’t want him to anymore.

“Are you sleeping over?” you asked once he returned from throwing the soiled toilet paper and washing himself up. He was in the middle of sliding his boxers back on. He swiped his hair back from his face, exposing his dampened forehead. Even in the crappy lighting of your college apartment, after a messy sex session, he still looked like a model.

“Depends, what YouTube videos are you going to make me watch while we go to sleep if I stay?”

You thought about what videos you had been watching as of late, and then your eyes widened excitedly, “I did watch a video of this girl telling ghost stories the other day and didn’t get to finish it, can we watch that?”

“________, you know I don’t like that stuff,” his face contorted into a mix of discomfort and pleading. He couldn’t handle most scary stuff, much less ghost stories. He wouldn’t be able to sleep.

“Come on, Jake, they’re not even scary,” you sat up in bed and patted the open spot beside you, gesturing for him to take it. He shuffled towards it begrudgingly, letting out a deep, dramatic sigh as he got into bed with you again. He noticed you had slipped your black panties back on but his shirt was the one you were wearing, and he tried not to smile. He would have to leave his clothes here for you more often.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this fic, please feel free to leave a like, reblog, and/or a message in my inbox! i would love to hear your feedback! ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

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[hopelessrromantix]

kinktober day 10 boot riding

daddy kink, amab reader yes ill post the missing days i swear sjdkf

cis women dni

The longer you stayed at a party, the more boring it got.

Sure, getting drunk and high and fucking around with your classmates was a good time. But after hours of huddling together with sweaty drugged up teenagers and having generic music blasted into your ears, it got a bit boring.

But Billy always found a way to make it more entertaining. Normally by pulling off a rather impressive keg stand. For once, he’d offered to be the designated driver (mostly because you’d done it for the past four parties and refused to do it again), so you were downing your second drink, talking to some junior you barely knew. The buzz of a high was clouding your head, though it wasn’t enough to impair your judgment.

But apparently your boyfriend felt like pissing you off tonight.

Eventually the junior wandered off, probably to flirt with someone interested. Billy, on the other hand, was chatting up some girl from your math class. You didn’t remember her name, but you most certainly remembered the way she talked to Billy.

She gave a fake laugh, making sure to lean forward and give him a decent view of her cleavage. Not that you blamed her for trying to sleep with your boyfriend. Billy was pretty, and it’s not like she knew he had a boyfriend. So no, you didn’t hold any resentment toward the girl.

Billy, on the other hand, was in a world of hurt.

He had every chance to turn her down. Every chance to make up some half-assed excuse or just plain tell her he wasn’t into it. But no. He joked and gave her some cheesy pick-up line. The brat even had the nerve to look your way while he was doing so, giving you a wink.

You watched for a minute longer, waiting for him to make some excuse to leave. But when it was obvious he had no plans of doing so, you decided to step in for him.

“C’mon Hargrove, you’re my ride home.” Luckily your head was clear enough to make walking out easy.

Billy frowned, trying to look as disappointed as possible. “Already? But I was having fun!” The girl next to him looked sad as well, as if begging you to let him stay longer.

“Sorry, I gotta get up early tomorrow,” You said, shrugging. Tomorrow was Saturday, neither you nor Billy had anything to do. But she didn’t need to know that.

“Fine, buzzkill.”

Billy, tap dancing on your last nerve, gave the girl a wink, causing her to let out an airy giggle. You rolled your eyes, stomping out of the house. You could hear Billy mumble what was most certainly a sarcastic comment under his breath.

You sat in the passenger seat the second he opened the door, waiting as he slid into the driver’s seat a second later.

After a second of him realizing you weren’t going to speak, he started driving, the music from the party fading into the background as he did so.

“Your mom and that bastard home?” You knew the answer was no. He’d made quite a big deal about getting the house to himself while Neil dragged his step-mom and Max on a ‘family outing’. Even with Max asking, Billy was left home alone.

“No, why?” He asked, glancing over to you before his eyes returned to the road. He was perfectly aware of ‘why’, you knew that much.

“Gonna let me stay over, pretty boy?” You asked, your tone low. He nodded, quickly taking a turn to head toward his house.

The trip was short and Billy got out of the car almost immediately after you arrived. You chuckled at how eager he was, fumbling with his keys in an attempt to get in quicker.

You followed closely, heading to Billy’s room without much hesitation.

The second you got in, you closed the door, pressing Billy up against a wall.

“You got some fuckin’ nerve, Hargrove,” you spoke quietly and quickly, though you knew he heard you from how he shivered. “You tryna get my attention, or just tryna whore around with some poor girl, hm?”

He shook his head rapidly, gulping down a breath.

Billy tried his hand at being a brat often. Always teasing you, getting your attention in public. But the second you were behind closed doors, he practically melted.

“Words, baby boy.”

“No, Daddy.”

God he knew what buttons to press.

“Then why were you flirting?” You spoke softly, loving how his eyes glazed over with lust when you did so. “Giving her hope for no reason. That just seems mean, baby.”

He made a noise of disagreement, shaking his head again. “Didn’t mean to, just wanted your attention.”

You chuckled. “No, you knew exactly what you were doing.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but you slammed your lips into his before he could. You took over the kiss quickly. His arms twined around your neck, one of yours on his hip and the other gripping his hair. You gave a soft tug to his hair, forcing a loud moan out of his throat.

You slotted one thigh between his legs, giving him the chance to messily rut against you. Both your pants were tight, his jeans no doubt uncomfortable at this point.

“Pleeease just fuck me.” He was practically begging, arms tightening around you. “Please, I’m sorry for flirting with her, I won’t do it again.”

You both knew damn well he’d do it again.

“I don’t think I feel like forgiving you yet, baby.” He huffed at your words, hips still moving against your clothed thigh.

“How about this,” You suggested. You placed your hands on his shoulders, lowering him to his knees and placing your boot between his legs. “You cum in under two minutes, and I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t remember your damn name.”

He nodded rapidly, head collapsing into your leg.

He moved his hands towards his jeans, only stopping when you firmly questioned what he was doing.

"I can't use my hands?" He asked, looking slightly hopeful. As if he'd get off that easy.

“If you really want me to fuck you, you can cum like this.”

He paused for a moment. “Like ‘this’?”

You smirked, tilting his head up slightly with one finger. “You think you can cum in your jeans for me?”

He shivered, nodding fervently.

"Good boy."

He started off slow, moving his hips against the firm leather of your boot. It was just enough stimulation for his sensitive cock. He was burying his face into your jeans, mouthing at your dick over the fabric. You just let him, watching as he desperately tried to get you to force your cock down his throat.

"One minute left." He whimpered.

His thrusts sped up, messily humping your boot in an attempt to get off. Barely decipherable mumbles of "please" "Daddy" and "more" tumbled out his lips, the words jumbled together and high pitched.

"You gonna cum, whore?" You asked, spitting out the term as if it was his name. He moaned, nodding.

"Please can I? Please Daddy? Wanna cum for you so you'll fuck me, please?"

You'd barely said yes before he buried his face into your thigh, hips stuttering and slowing. Cum slowly seeped through the fabric of his boxers, and suddenly he was thankful you'd waited until he was home to ruin him.

"Good job handsome," you said, leaving down and placing a surprisingly soft kiss on his forehead. "You get your reward now."

He was practically buzzing already.

[mischelmayleys]

Only this first one is going to be post here probably so for more go to my wattpad: football_woman_11

CHAPTER 1

Mapi and Ingrid were the perfect ending for each other. They knew it of course. But sometimes they felt like something was missing. Maybe someone. Some little legs running around their shared apartment in the catalonia town. 

It started as a thought from their conversation one simple evening that turned them into a fostering process. They were told they are too busy and always traveling for the games as all the workers have said. It wasn't an environment for a little kid that probably came out of something tragic to find itself in a foster system. 

They still tried. They still asked if there was someone they could foster and later adopt. But the simple "No" set their hopes to minimum, until one day.

„Are you totally insane Eliza!" My social worker yelled at me as soon as she found me in a police station sitting in the 24 hour jail. I looked down at my bleeding knuckles and pursed my lips to stop the pounding pain in them.

I shrugged my shoulders and let myself sink further into the uncomfortable wooden chair.

„Do you have any idea how this will look  on your record. Running from yet another of your homes is one thing there but fights. And don't let me start at your school records." She was looking at me through the bars of the cell.

„They weren't my home." I said looking up at her.

She sighs: „Eliza I know you don't like them, but you need to at least try. There aren't many families that want a 16 year old, yet trouble maker. You know how hard it was for me to find you Mr and Mrs Freemans?" She let the question sink. She didn't expect me to answer her, yet she stayed quiet.

„I was protecting myself in the fight AND running away was a way better option than staying." I argued back at her. She doesn't know how it is in the foster system. For her every family is good, but it's never the case.

I was in five families so far. Neither of them were okay.

In the first one the father abused me mentally the second one physically, but no one ever believed me.

Who would believe a 16year old girl over people who put everything together once they're investigating? No one...

I didn't eat normal food for a long time, of course I always ended up getting some bread or cold food, but my body was missing some hot and fresh food.

„Eliza we talked about this. A roof over your head is home.“ Again I stayed quiet and just stared at my now numb hands. She wasn’t right. Home is when you are somewhere you are loved and treated right. 

My social worker continued to look at me for a few more minutes until she signaled for the cop to release me: „You are sleeping in my office tonight. The family dropped your things into my car. Come on.“ She grabbed me by my arm and dragged me into her car. 

„You bailed me out?“ I asked as she started the engine. 

„Yes.“ It was a simple answer but it made me smile a little. At least someone cared. 

The next day my social worker forced me into my classes and said after school to go immediately to her office, saying she found a family for me to stay over there for a couple of days. I didn’t bother to go, instead I went to a small football field where I sneaked and borrowed one ball which was always lying around somewhere on the pitch. 

I threw my backpack onto the field which didn’t include any of my school stuff. Instead of books it was filled with my football shoes and a half of my skateboard. The other half was showing from the back pack as it of course didn’t fit into him.

I quickly changed my shoes and began to do some tricks with the ball that I learned online. They were simple but at least I didn't suck at it like I did with school. 

It wasn't like I was stupid or something, I just didn't care. Foster kids don't normally get picked out to the school football team or to anything really. You don't have many friends because you are always moving around and no one likes new kids anyway. 

After some time my phone blew up with messages and missed calls from my social worker asking where the FUCK I was. I just rolled my eyes and said I'll be there in a few minutes. It was better to come late, at least they won't pick me if they see that I'm not bothered. 

I would lie if I didn't say I was scared to go into the office door. It would mean meeting the people who I would live with. They never were nice people fostering me. 

They seemed okay but most of them turned out into drug junkies, alcoholics or abusers. Sometimes all at once. I am kind of used to it now. I mastered a skill in running away and quickly scanning the areas I was in to see a potential way out. 

I took a deep breath and with a bored expression knocked on the door and opened them immediately after. 

I was met with my social worker and two women talking.  

„Eliza, come here. Sit.” My social worker said, making me sigh and sit into the chair next to her facing the two women. 

„This is Maria and Ingrid and they will take you in, until I find someone to adopt you.” my social worker was saying but all I was focusing on were the two women in front of me. 

One of them had tattoos all over her arms and one on her neck. I focused on that one more: 

Looks can be deceiving

Hmm interesting. People with tattoos tend to look aggressive and most of the time they are. One of the last foster homes I was in, the man had many tattoos…I used to look at them when he beat me up. How his muscles flexed and the tattoos moved on his arms. 

„Eliza!” I was torn from my thoughts because my social worker called my name. 

„Yeah, sure whatever.” I mumbled annoyed and stood up. 

„Be nice and please stay out of trouble.” She said as I followed Ingrid and Maria out of the door. 

I took a deep breath: „No.” And with that I closed the door and turned around to find them staring at me.

„What?” I asked.

Ingrid smiles at me: „We are waiting for you.” she stuck out her hand and I just looked at it and walked past them. 

„Or not.” I heard Maria mumble as they followed me closely.

Due to me not knowing where to go I stopped and looked back at the two women. 

„It’s that black Cupra.” Ingrid pointed out a black car sitting at the back of the parking lot. 

I nodded and walked to the car feeling them right behind me. 

I quickly slipped into the back seat and sat down with my backpack next to all of my bags which I don't know how they got there. Probably my social worker. 

I pulled my board between my legs so I don't make the interior of the car dirty. It was so clean. 

„So, are you hungry? Or did you eat in school?” Maria turned from the front seat facing me. 

I shook my head quickly: „I am not hungry.” I learned that by now, when someone asks me if I'm hungry the answer always has to be no. I once said yes and I hadn't eaten anything for three days due to me being ungrateful. 

They both shared a concerned look which I didn't see because I was already looking out of the window.

When Ingrid stopped the car I realized that we were in front of McDonald's. I frowned, why are we here if I said I'm not hungry?

„I know you said you aren't hungry but I think some fries aren't that big of a deal, what do you say?” Ingrid turned my way smiling. Why the fuck is she smiling at me? 

„I guess…” I mumbled in case this was some kind of a trap. Ingrid and Maria looks nice…nicer that the other people, but I am done trusting the system putting me somewhere nice.

They both went outside of the car as I stayed in. 

„Well you are coming too let's go.” Maria said as she opened the door on my side. Fuck! I mumbled under my breath and got out of the car carefully placing my board into the space between the seats. 

They were asking too many questions. If I really want just fries? If I want a burger as well? Or what I want to drink. I tried to reply short and no to most of the questions, but in the end I ended up with The nuggets, fries and coke zero in the back placed safely in my lap as we sat in the car to their house.

I still don’t know what to think about them. They are smiling at me, buying me food and making sure I have everything and it has only been two hours since they first met me. There must be something wrong with them…

Ingrid parked the car in front of a flat building in the center of Barcelona. It looked expensive here…or at least better than the streets where my usual foster parents lived. Maria took all of my bags even though I said I could carry them on my own, but she dismissed me by saying: “Why would you do that?” 

I didn’t fight her back on it, not because I didn’t want to, but it was Ingrid who literally guided me out of Marias way. 

“Come on let Maria be, I am going to show you your room.” Ingrid said and with her hand on my back she led me into the elevator. I had the Mcdonald's back in one hand and my board in the other one. I get my own room? 

[thewritetofreespeech]

Gale x Tav

words: 1613

rating: E

pairing: Gale x Tav (post game pairing)

summary: part ii of the previous Gale x Tav work. (part i part iii)

tags: magic sex (literally. but also metaphorically), heterosexual sex, f/m, slight voyeurism, Gale still using magic for naughty reasons

To say it was hard to focus the rest of the day was an understatement.

Not only were you still reeling from what Gale had done earlier, you were also now looking forward to tonight when he would do it again.

Once classes were over, and the day done, you went home immediately. You ate a small dinner, which you weren’t hungry for with your stomach in knots, but Gale would be disappointed if you didn’t eat. You took a bath. Then you laid naked in bed waiting for the fun to start. The two of you hadn’t set a time. So, you anxiously waited to start feeling the now familiar touch on your clit and body from Gale’s ring.

You weren’t sure if it had been a while or blink of time, your anticipation making it hard to get an accurate read on an internal clock, but eventually the sensations started. You let out a sigh as you sunk deeper into the soft bedding.

Now that you knew what was going on, and you were alone, you were able to enjoy it fully. Letting your body go with the feeling. Uninhabitable moaning. Touching parts of your body that the ring wasn’t linked to. Your mouth gasped open as you cupped your breasts and played with your nipple. Pleasure building as you writhed on the bed for your phantom lover.

“Gods above….”

Your eyes snap open at the sound of that hushed exclamation. Sitting up on your elbows and seeing Gale there in the doorway. In the flesh. His own eyes on you with this look of dumbfounded stupor and lust. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at the summit.”

“I left early.” He told you. Crossing over the threshold now and into the room. “There was only one more day, and it was boring anyhow, so I told them I had to return home. Because my wife needed me.” You bite your lips and draw your knees closer together, as you feel a warm pull in the pit of your stomach. Technically, he didn’t lie. Oh, how you needed him.

Gale was by the bed quickly and was already out of most of the buttons on his shirt by the time he was there. “I see my new present works. Do you like it?”

“It’s certainly…stimulating.” You reply in a cheeky manner. Gale returns your smirk and touched the stone on his ring again. The reaction instantaneous as you moan to the feeling. Somehow more intense and arousing with him in the room.

“I’ll say. It certainly was stimulating watching you enjoy it earlier today through my minds eye.” The wizard climbed on the bed and on top of you with an uncharacteristic amount of grace for a wizard. His eye, normally warm and a soft brown, burning with desire only for you. “I had to come back and see it for myself.”

Your arms wrap around Gale’s neck and pull him down for a kiss. Unable to wait any longer. The kiss was hungry. Passionate. The build up was one thing, but now that Gale was here, it was like an inferno had been lit inside you. You don’t think Karlach and her infernal engine could burn as hot as you did right now for your husband.

Gale returned your fire wholeheartedly. It was a surprise. The former chosen was by no means apathetic in bed, but he usually liked to take things slow. Be patient. Capture and build on the moment. Make sure everything was done thoroughly and properly before you both exhaled in ecstasy and calling it a night. Now, however, he was like a man consumed with fervor. The distance and almost 8 hours of foreplay ‘til now, if you counted the anticipation from this afternoon until now, seemed to have its effect on Gale as well.

He fumbled with his trousers as he tried to get out of them but not break the kiss. Eventually, he realized that was impossible, and let out a curse as he pulled back from you to get them off. “Such language, professor.”

Gale smirked at you. Immediately back on top of you once he was free. “You’re one to talk. I heard you earlier, and just now. Nearly as bad as that foul mouth pixie.” Hardly, you want to tell him. But Gale was shifting his weight above you and pulled off his ring before handing it to you. “Here. Put it on.” He was already slipping the ring onto your finger by the time he finished asking. The band only able to fit on your thumb with the size difference in your fingers. “I want you to use it while I make love to you. Feel the full effect of its magic while I’m inside you.”

Your mind lets out a guttural moan at the suggestion, but your lips stay closed as you examine the ring. It was a thrilling idea. To be, in part, the master of your own pleasure. Hesitantly you touch the ruby red stone on the ring and feel a surge of sensation rush from your center and up your spine. This time, you do indeed moan.

“Gods above…it is better in person….” Gale’s attention seemed fixed on your face, fascinated by it, as he brought up a hand to caress your cheek.

Your eyes open, and you have to assume your eyes are as black as the darkness of Shar. “Are you going to just stay there and stare at me?” Your head lances up, out of his grasp, to give him a biting kiss. “Or are you going to fuck me?”

There was a low growl from Gale. Though he was usually a man who didn’t appreciate vulgar words in his immense vocabulary, in bed was the only place he tolerated them. Judging by the twitch of his cock against your inner thigh, he more than just tolerated them.

Never one to disappoint a request from his lover, Gale moved to position himself between your legs and slid in. You were so wet from earlier, and the anticipation of finally getting a hard cock inside you, that there was little resistance as he pushed in. You moan eagerly. Though the Mage Hands earlier today had been nice they were nothing compared to the firm feel of your husband inside you. “Gods you’re so hard….”

“You’re not the only one in need, my love.”

He began to thrust. Slow and deep inside you. Sweet words of how much he missed you this week fall from that skilled tongue. You reciprocate his feelings but are too tightly wound to respond. So you just babble.

His thrusting increases and you feel like you’re on the edge of a great void. Been on the edge of some great void. Yet you can’t jump off of it. You reach of Gale’s ring still on your finger from he behind his head, your legs and arms wrapped tight around his back, and start to rub. A cry came out of your mouth as it was more intense than before, but you were surprised to hear Gale cry out as well.

“Hells…I can feel it….” His hip movements become erratic as he thrust deeper and faster into you. Seeming to want to get closer to the sensation. “I never expected….this is an unexpected turn of events….Oh Gods…is this what it’s been like for you?”

You want to tell him yes but you’re too lost in ecstasy to say anything coherent. The magic from Gale’s ring teasing your clit. His hard cock plunging into your body. Hands on your breasts and body so much so that you wonder if he had in fact called Mage Hands back into play. Still you were just on that precipice. Until you toppled over it not with a step but violent push. Your body & mind racked with waves of pleasure that batter you like a ship as your hands cling to the bedding to make sure you weren’t swept away in its current.

Gale continues until you fall back to the bed like jelly, and he collapses on top of you. Clearly having splendidly finished as well.

After a moment to catch your breath, Gale rolled over beside you to his side. Then with a tired, limp hand he reached over to remove his ring. Placing it safely on the nightstand where it wouldn’t be bumped and cause anymore trouble. “That was amazing.”

“It certainly was.” You agree as you curl up beside him.

“You were amazing. I had no idea when I created this that it would…well…be so…” It was amusing to watch Gale stumble over his words on the topic. Like he hadn’t just aggressively fucked you into the mattress like a mad man. Like he hadn’t come up with the idea for his ring all on his own. “Well I think the word ‘stimulating’ was used earlier, and that certainly hit the spot.”

“You certainly did.”

You giggle at Gale’s flustered expression. Still finding the shift from Gale 30 seconds ago to now utterly amusing. And in all honesty, incredibly hot. You lean up to give him a kiss before your tired bones give out and call you back to the bed. “Let’s get some sleep. We can certainly do more ‘experimenting’ tomorrow, if you’d like.”

Gale doesn’t respond. But you can see the grin out of the corner of your eye before the close with desire for sleep. He lifted his hand and waved it in the air. A blanket carefully draping over you to magically tuck you in. Magic was certainly helpful for so many things.

[kimi240302]

I´m Yours

A/N: Before you read this story, be aware I am from Germany and can't write a bit of English. That's why I'm sending this through an app that translates it for me.

A/N2.0: In this story, the characters are all a little older.

Summary: Y/N Swan tries everything to keep her promise to stay away from Demetri Volturi. But can you stay away from the man fate bound you to?

Demetri Volturi x Female!Swan!reader

Words: 3,5k

Main Post / Twilight Masterlist / Request list

Last Part of Daylight Masterlist

Warning: violence towards a character

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“Tryna wash away all the blood I´ve spilt This lust is a burden that we both share  Two sinners can´t atone from  a lone prayer  Souls tied, interwined by our pride and guilt”

-David Kushner

"I promise you...," Y/N paused, turning her gaze away from Mara, who was standing in front of her with her arms crossed, and looking at Mick, who was looking at her with a raised eyebrow as he made himself comfortable on Mara's bed.

"I promise you I'll be back. I just want to be alone for an hour or two." Annoyed, the young Swan exhaled. She felt smothered within the four walls of the hotel room where she had lain in bed for the past three days. The fact that her two best friends, had not let her out of their sight for a second since the night with Demetri, supported this feeling.

Determined, Y/N took her bag from the bed and hung it over her shoulder. "Besides, you two could use some time alone." The young girl left no more room for arguments from her friends, as she was already halfway out the door when she spoke those words. But Y/N paused once more, stretching her torso back through the still-open crack of the door and looking back and forth between Mara and Mick in turn. "Just please don't have sex on my bed." Laughing, Y/N closed the door as Mara angrily threw one of the guidebooks at her, while Mick just laughed.

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On the street in front of the hotel, Y/N stopped. She turned her face up to the gray sky. She flinched slightly as the first raindrops trickled down onto the skin of her face. Pressing her raincoat closer to her body, she dropped the smile she had put on for her friends and closed her eyes.

The raindrops slowly began to make their way down Y/N's face, but they didn't bother the young girl, quite the opposite. Y/N gratefully accepted the coldness of the water. The drops replaced the tears that she herself no longer had left to cry. For once, taking a deep breath, she absorbed the smell of the rain, the certainty settled in her bones that tonight was the last evening for her in Volterra.

Tomorrow morning, she would fly back with her class, and never return. Y/N would then go back to Forks, to her father, her sister, and the Cullens, and Demetri would exist only in her memories from that point on. This thought sent a shiver down the young girl's body.

Shaking herself slightly, Y/N turned her head straight ahead again and started moving. She didn't know where to go, since she didn't know her way around Volterra. But she didn't want to go back to the hotel room either, so the young Swan decided to just start walking and hoping that nothing would happen to her.

„To live is the rarest thing in the World. Most people exist, that is all!”

Hours had passed during which Y/N walked around lost in thought. She had lost her sense of direction and was aware that her friends and classmates were certainly worried. But the young girl could not convince herself to turn back or take out her cell phone and find her way back to the hotel.

Y/N was soaked, confused and exhausted. She didn't know what she wanted or what she was trying to accomplish by wandering around Volterra.

With tears welling up again, the Swan girl sat down on the edge of a fountain that stood in the middle of an empty, yet lit, sidewalk. She let her fingertips glide over the water and smiled slightly at each tear drop that fell into the water. The rain had stopped and so had her will to resist the tears. With her free hand, Y/N reached into her pocket and pulled out the crumpled note Demetri had left in the book. Again she read the lines written there in black ink, as she had done over and over again in the last few days.

"Pretty girls like you shouldn't be walking around outside alone at this hour, or at all alone with your mind elsewhere."

Startled, Y/N winced. She stuffed the note back into her pocket and stood up properly. As she did so, she didn't take her eyes off the man who had appeared behind her as if out of nowhere.

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" Y/N closed her eyes for a brief moment as she saw the stranger's grin grow larger. Even though she tried, Y/N couldn't stop the tremor in her voice. Which only confirmed to her opposite that the young girl was definitely alone and scared.  

The unknown man took another step towards Y/N, which she answered with a step closer to the fountain. Defensively, the stranger raised his hands. "Don't worry little girl, I won't hurt you." The young Swan's eyes widened. She immediately felt as if she was looking at the man properly for the first time. His skin was almost white as snow, while his eyes seemed black. Y/N swallowed, for she had a feeling that if she had met him on any other day, his eyes would be red. She also did not notice any breathing or blinking of the eyes.

Laughing, the man approached Y/N, he reached out a hand and placed it on her cheek, making her wince as panic began to spread inside her. The stranger's skin was as cold as ice. "Not as long as you don't fight back," he finished the sentence he had started.

Startled, Y/N slapped the man's hand away, surprising him, and ran. The vampire immediately started laughing, which echoed on the empty street and made Y/N run even faster. She knew that the castle of Volterra couldn't be far, since magically it was always the first thing she saw when she walked through the streets. If the young girl could reach it before her attacker, she was safe, she would be with Demetri.

Without warning, Y/N slammed into the side of the wall with her entire body. Gasping for air, she hit the hard floor. She caught the impact with her hands, causing the skin on them to split open in some places. Blood leaked from the small openings, causing the unknown vampire to draw air through his nose. "Your blood smells better than anything I've ever smelled!" He muttered to himself, his eyes still closed.

Gritting her teeth, Y/N tried to crawl silently away from the vampire. But he grabbed her ankle and pulled her back. Calling for help, she began kicking and punching at her attacker with her legs and arms. All this triggered another loud laugh. The vampire put his hands around Y/N's neck pulling her up by it and pressing her against the brick wall. As he did so, his grip tightened with each passing second. Y/N tried to strike at him with her hands, also scratching at his hands to loosen the grip on her neck, but her attempts were in vain. Just as black dots began to surround her field of vision, the vampire let go of her and caught her body. Gasping for air, she noticed how there was no spark of strength left in her. Her body felt limp and burning. "Such a pretty thing. If I wasn't so hungry, I would have spent more time with you."

The vampire supported her body with one hand while turning her face to the side with the other. He let the dome of his index finger trail over her pulse point as he grinned in satisfaction. "Please don't..." , Y/N muttered. "Don't worry it will be over quickly!" This was the last thing Y/N was aware of until the pain set in. The vampire had buried his fangs in her neck. Y/N felt her life being literally sucked out of her as the vampire drank more and more of her blood. Again black dots began to dance in front of her eyes and the only thing she could think about was Demetri, while more and more tears ran down her cheeks.

With a jolt, the feeling of the vampire in front of her disappeared, as did the arm holding her upright. Exhausted and preparing to hit the ground again, Y/N closed her eyes. However, before Y/N hit the ground one more time she was stopped by two arms and pinned against a chest.

"Mon amour please open your eyes!" Demetri pleaded with his mate. Blinking, she opened her eyes, contorted her face in pain, and then looked him straight in the eye. "Demetri, you're here." Her voice was no longer even a whisper. Carefully, Demetri stroked Y/N's bloodied hair from her face and left his hand on her cheek. "I will always be where you are. You just have to promise me to stay awake!" Smiling weakly, she placed a hand on his cheek, trembling. "I'm so sorry." Confused, the vampire looked at her. "Sorry for what?" His mate shook her head weakly, her eyelids beginning to flutter as her hand slid down from his cheek.

Everything around Demetri slowed down. The sounds of his friends killing the vampire became a low hiss as Y/N's eyes began to close and her pulse continued to slows. Demetri rested his forehead against his mate's. "Please don't leave me again! You can't leave me!"  

But Y/N no longer understood a word, the ringing in her ears had become far too loud for that. "I love you, Demetri Volturi." Whether she said it out loud or just thought it, she didn't know, but she was glad to have seen the man she loved once again, before her world went black and her body went limp in his arms, she knew she was finally home.

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""Will she be awake in time?" Aro, and every other vampire in the throne room, looked closely at the doctor in front of him. The latter nodded slightly anxiously and looked around. "Miss Swan has lost a lot of blood, but nothing that can't be fixed with a blood infusion and bed rest." His voice trembled slightly, however, he did better than the Kings had expected.

Nodding, Aro looked to Jane. "Inform Demetri about this. He will be at her bedside. Felix escort the doctor out." Both guards stepped forward to follow what they were told to do. "And doctor." The man addressed stopped in the doorway and turned slowly. "Everything you've seen today, you'd better forget." Marcus looked at him, bored. Caius began to grin nastily, "Accidents happen every day!" Aro spread his arms, "And it would be a shame for such talent to go to waste!" Quickly the man nodded, "I was never here!" Satisfied, the kings looked at him. Felix put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him further in the direction of the exit.

"Why didn't he just turn her?" Caius looked questioningly at his brother. "He would have escaped the Cullens and that annoying sister that way. His mate would have no choice but to stay here to get used to her new life." Marcus turned to the blond-haired man. "And that's just it. It would have been forced." Aro nodded. "Our young friend wants his mate to want to walk this path willingly, with him by her side or without him."

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"Demetri?" Jane entered Demetri's room. He was sitting on the floor with his back against his bed where his mate was sleeping. He had drawn his knees to his chest, buried his hands in his hair, and rested his forehead on his knees. At Jane's voice he looked up. "The doctor's gone, he says she'll be fine. She just needs bed rest." Demetri just nodded and laid his head back on his knees. Jane looked down at her teammate and debated with herself. She closed the door and took thoughtful steps toward the bed. Y/N looked pale, but since the second blood infusion, the redness of her skin was slowly working its way back.

The vampire sat down on the floor next to Demetri, which made him look to the side in confusion. "I thought at the beginning that you had gone mad. Fighting so hard for the Swan girl, even though she didn't want you. Letting your heart break over and over again. Now that I see you with her, now that I've seen the way she was in your arms, the way she looked at you, the smile just before she thought she was going to die, just because she could tell you she loved you. Makes me understand why you did it. Why you ran after her and why you didn't want to turn her. I don't understand the soul mates thing, I only have Alec who I trust and I don't think that will ever change. But Demetri, when she wakes up, and she will. Don't let her go again. You both need each other!" Jane looked deep into Demetri's eyes and put a hand on his shoulder. Demetri looked at her gratefully and placed his hand over hers. "I'm scared." Jane nodded. "You two will get through this, and if anything happens, we'll be behind you and her." Demetri smiled.

Jane stood up and headed for the door, but turned back to him. "If you tell anyone what I said here, I will cause you pain that will make you wish you were never born!" Demetri dropped his head back into his neck laughing, "There's the Jane I love!" Briefly her eyes lit up and a smile settled over her mouth. Shortly after, she was gone.

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"You just confirmed what I warned Y/N about!" Bella looked angrily over at Demetri. The latter rolled his eyes, "And that would be?" "You put her in danger!" "She would never have been in danger if she hadn't been alone, and she was only alone because she pushed Demetri away because of you!" Felix laughed in disbelief from what he had just heard. Bella took a step towards the vampire, but Edward grabbed her waist and pulled her back to his chest. "Stop it now Bella!"

"You better listen to your fiancé young girl! It was pure kindness on Demetri's part to inform you of your sister's condition." Aro looked closely at Bella. "Kindness?!" Bella was turning red with anger. "Put a leash on your human before I do something about her!", Caius looked at Bella out of annoyed eyes. Edward tightened his grip around his fiancée. The latter took a deep breath and looked back at Aro. "If Carlisle confirms to us right away that my sister is fit to travel, I will take her back to Forks with me." She turned to Demetri and pointed a finger at him. "And you will stay away from my sister . From this day until her last day." Demetri shook his head. "You will not take her anywhere again. Until she can speak for herself, she stays here. Let Y/N make her own decisions, you've been calling all the shots in her life long enough!" "I only want what's best for her!" "By keeping her away from the one she loves!" Alec raised his eyebrow in amusement. Bella laughed mockingly. "She doesn't love him. My sister could never love a monster!" "Careful! Maybe none of our powers can do anything against you, but we can always hurt you, though! You forget you're still human!" Jane's voice became sharp. But Bella laughed again. "And that proves what I'm saying, you Volturi are nothing more than monsters!"

"The only monster in this room is you Bella."

All at once, everyone's heads turned to the kings. Y/N had entered the throne room through the back entrance. Next to her stood a sad-looking Carlisle. He knew he should not have taken Bella with him, for as the vampire knew Y/N would not return with them, but would remain with Demetri and therefore with the Volturi.

"Sister!" "Mon amour!" Bella and Demetri spoke at the same time. Y/N's gaze moved from her sister to Demetri. The latter looked at her with relief and a little fear, but she did not think twice. As fast as her bare feet could carry her, she ran towards Demetri and jumped into his arms. Relieved, he immediately wrapped his arms around her torso and hugged her to him. As he did so, the vampire closed his eyes and buried his face in the crook of her neck.

Aro began to clap and even jumped up and down once. "I think my young Bella, this is answer enough where your sister wants to stay. Isn't it?" Bella shook her head. "Y/N..." Her voice was occupied with bewilderment. Her younger sister separated herself from Demetri and stood up properly. As she did so, she buried her fingers in the fabric of his top, while he placed his hands on her upper arms, where he gently ran them up and down. Y/N accepted this gesture gratefully. Since she had almost fled the room when she saw only Carlisle, she was wearing nothing but underwear and a black nightgown. Lightly she leaned her back against the blond vampire's torso, taking in the warmth of his coat. Demetri who noticed this detached himself from Y/N took off his coat and placed it over his mate's shoulder. Then placed his hands again on her upper arms. Everyone observed the gesture with a smile, except for the Cullen family and Bella.

Bella watched as Y/N gratefully gave Demetri a kiss on the cheek and began shaking her head again. "No!" Confused, everyone looked at her. "You have to choose sister!" Bella emphasized the word 'sister' as if to remind Y/N that they were bound together by blood. "Between what?" Doubting her sister's mental state, Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Either you come back to Forks with me and the Cullens, or you stay here, with Demetri and the Volturi." She paused, put her hands to her chest, and continued talking, "But if you stay here, I will no longer see you as my sist..." Bella hadn't even finished her sentence when Y/N interrupted her. "Demetri and the Volturi." Bella dropped her arms to her side. "What?" "I choose Demetri and the Volturi." She repeated, more slowly so her sister would understand her better. This made every single Volturi grin as they looked at their future new member.

Before Bella could say anything further, Y/N turned her body entirely around to face Demetri. "Can you take me back to our room?" Demetri looked from her to Aro, who nodded with a smile. "Anything Ma princesse, will." In bridal style he picked her up in his arms, not wanting her to walk around in bare feet any longer and catch anything else, made his way past the Cullens. Where Bella realized once again that she had lost her sister to Demetri Volturi. Y/N didn't pay Bella a glance, burying her face in her mate's chest as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Well Bella that must have backfired!" Laughed Felix, making everyone except the Cullens laugh along with him.

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"Are you sure you made the right decision?" Demetri whispered these words while looking straight ahead and holding his mate securely in his arms at the same time. Confused, she looked up at him. "What do you mean Demetri?" Without saying anything he opened the door of his room, stepped into it, closed his door and carefully put his mate down on his bed. "You should sleep a little more, the doctor and Carlisle are..." , he spoke while walking back to the door. But Y/N jumped up from the bed, dropping the coat from her mate on the floor, closing the distance between them with a few steps and grabbing Demetri's wrist. "Don't do this Demetri." He turned his head around to face her. "Don't do what." "Don't drop me. I won't regret choosing you. I won't miss my sister and the time in her shadow. I won't regret you and my love for you, not today, not in our eternity you promised me Demetri." Carefully she pulled him to her by his wrist. His body turned completely to her, his eyes were filled with fear and yet hope was also hidden in them. Y/N let go of his wrist, took another step towards him and placed her hands on his cheeks, like he always did with her. "I will never forgive myself for how many times I have rejected you for a promise that was unfair to both of us and if you let me, I will try to make this up to you for the rest of our time together." Demetri closed his eyes and leaned more into her touch. "That's a very long time Mon Amour." "That's exactly what I hope!" Smiling, Y/N placed her lips on her mate's. Demetri returned her kiss instantly, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her closer. The kiss quickly turned into a passionate one as Y/N released her hands from his cheeks and let them disappear into Demetri's hair. When they both broke away from each other, their lips hovered just inches apart. "No more running away, no more hiding, I beg you!" Demetri looked at her pleadingly. Gently, she again placed her lips on his. Breaking away from him, she leaned her forehead against his and whispered, "I'm yours Demetri Volturi and I'm not afraid to show it to the daylight anymore!" They both started laughing and kissed again.

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A/N3.0: Thanks for reading this story. I hope you enjoyed it and if you think of anything else you want to read, like the wedding of the two or other things write it in my inbox, no matter if my request is closed or not.

@twilightlover2007 @ssnapsaurus @xxx-wounded-angel-xxx @ms-sasa @elissanatok @helen06dreamer @animequeen454 @svtbpbts @alyeskathewave @kezibear @m-ichelles-world @angelsincident @esposadomd @xxxsecuritybreach @a-avengerparker