#the way ray taps him on the chest.... man

[demonvampire180writes]

Walk With Me - BuckTommy Fic Prompt

This is me trying not to break down over today's election results.

Prompt from @aplaceinme (If you don't want to be tagged please, let me know.)

"a beautiful autumn day, walking around the park on a cute date??"

Rays of filtered sunlight peek through the curtains in Buck’s loft. Slowly, he blinks his eyes open, squinting at even the low light of the morning. Groaning quietly, he rolls onto his side and drapes his arm over Tommy’s stomach, snuggling deeper into his side. Closing his eyes, he exhales deeply and basks in the warmth of the man he’s coming to love.

Tommy stirs. One of his large hands digs into the curls at the back of Buck’s head, giving gentle scritches as he presses his plush lips against his forehead. “Morning.” His voice is raspy with sleep but so full of love that Buck feels butterflies in his stomach. Lifting his head, he pouts his lips until Tommy pecks them, smirking with a chuckle.

“Morning.” Buck yawns, eyes watering and jaw cracking. Getting up onto his elbows, he stares down at his boyfriend and asks, “Since we’re up early, how does a walk around the park sound? We can grab some coffee or something while we walk.” Leaning down, he places a gentle kiss against Tommy’s chest, along the smattering of slightly greying chest hair that always seems to make him a bit self conscious, but that Buck loves beyond words.

Running a hand through his hair, Tommy hums and grins at him, eyes crinkling with delight. “Sounds great, babe. But… maybe just ten more minutes?” He gives him a lingering kiss before settling back into the pillow, a blissed out look on his face. Buck doesn’t even bother arguing, instead settling back half on top of Tommy, nose buried in the crook of his neck. Tommy pulls the comforter back up around them, snuggling back into its warmth.

Ten minutes turns into thirty, that turns into an hour. Neither of them mind.

When they manage to crawl out of bed, they each don a pair of jeans and a hoodie; Buck totally stole one of Tommy’s, but he doesn’t say anything, instead grinning as he shakes his head, pulling Buck in for a side hug and a kiss to his birthmark.

Buck gathers his keys, his phone, and his wallet as they head out into the relative cool of a California autumn. As they exit the building, Tommy slides his hand into the hoodie pouch and takes Buck’s hand, squeezing it but not trying to extract it, and they walk that way until - laughing as they bump into each other every few steps - they reach the coffee shop three blocks west of the apartment complex. As they dip inside, Tommy places one of his hands at the small of Buck’s back, herding him while also marking his claim. Buck feels so warm. So safe. So loved. So… Possessed. A shiver shoots down his spine and Tommy asks, concerned, “Are you cold? We don’t have to go to the park.”

“No, babe. I’m good.” Buck elbows him gently in the stomach and approaches the cashier, who greets him with a pearly white smile and a hearty ‘good morning!’ Without even needing to confirm it, he’s known it by heart for months, Buck orders both their coffee’s and a muffin to split - chocolate chip, Tommy’s favorite.

They grab their things and go outside to stand at one of the bar tables to eat their breakfast, feeding each other bites between kisses and flirtatious quips. The street is so quiet that Buck feels like he’s in their own little bubble; it’s early enough that the songbirds still serenade the morning sun. An elderly gentleman sits a few tables away at one of the bistro tables, reading an honest to God newspaper that he flips the pages of every so often between sips of coffee. A woman taps away at a laptop at another table, dressed to the flawless 9’s, even though the sun has barely risen. The scent of freshly baked bread and newly brewed coffee carry through the air on the crisp breeze passing by around them.

Buck feels like he’s carved out, and captured, a little piece of heaven this morning.

Tommy returns their empty plate inside and when he returns, he holds out his hand to Buck who links their pinkies without hesitation, letting it swing between them, their coffee’s in their free hands. Tommy quirks an eyebrow at him with his usual deadpan stare and Buck stares back innocently, giving him the biggest puppy dog eyes he can manage. Tommy doesn’t last ten seconds before snorting, lips turning up into a wry smile. “Dork.” He shakes his head and drags Buck in the direction of the park, hanging on with his pinky for dear life.

There’s a pond with a trail a couple of miles long and perfect for a stress free morning warm up. As they enter onto the trail, Buck throws his now empty cup into the trashcan at the mouth and stuffs his now free hand into his pocket to keep warm. Tommy continues to sip at his as they stroll along the paved path, smiling at mom’s and dad’s passing by with their tots in strollers or the runner that zips by, music blasting from their headphones as ponytails swish back and forth and light glints off polarized sunglasses. Couples sprawl out on blankets along the green lawns on either side of the trail or the occasional person with their nose buried in a book, clearly fantasizing about other times and worlds. They watch as elderly men and women sit mostly alone on benches along the shore, staring off into the distance as their arthritic hands grasp onto walking sticks and walkers. Ducks and geese swarm around the bench areas as they’re fed bread that isn’t good for them. Buck grins as he spouts off facts about why you’re not supposed to feed wildlife bread anymore, and Tommy pays rapt attention like he’ll be quizzed on it at the end of the lecture.

They stop at an open bench and sit for a little while, Tommy pulling Buck into his side, allowing him to lay his head against his shoulder. Their silence is so comfortable Buck feels the pull towards sleep and maybe even dozes off for a few minutes, not that Tommy will ever tell him he did. When they decide to get moving again, Buck takes Tommy’s hand fully in his now, loving how Tommy’s hand is large enough that it fully engulfs his own; a feeling that he never thought he’d get to experience. While he absolutely loves women, there was something special about being the smaller one; the one that gets to feel fully encased by a partner's love and warmth.

“Ready to head back?” Tommy asks after one full circuit of the pond. Buck grins at him and leans in for a kiss, humming happily when Tommy gives him exactly what he wants.

“Yeah. Thanks for coming with me this morning.”

Tommy’s nose crinkles as he replies, “Any time, Evan. I love you.”

His heart gives a strong ba-dump as he says, grinning back, “Love you, too, Tommy.” He simply couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend, or a better start to his day.

[flownwrong]

Due South Timestamp Roulette > 4 x 05 The Ladies' Man

Timestamps (in minutes): 5, 6, 13, 17, 21, 41

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Unhinged Feral Boyfriends

The whole Batfam is under the assumption that Damian is the feral child. The assassin, the wild one, the demon brat that bites and stabs. Jason usually takes the second place, what with guns, heads in the duffelbag, and being a crime lord.

But Tim? Come on, even Duke is more feral than him. Tim is a nerd, and he keeps to his own devices most of the time, and, sure, sometimes he is plenty unhinged. But he's okay. Seventh place on the unofficial List of Feral Bats.

He's got a boyfriend lately, have you heard? Tim hadn't brought him to the manor for dinner yet, but each and every Bat and Bird have already seen the guy - in person or through the surveillance cameras or background checks, doesn't matter. Either way, Daniel Fenton is quite literally a ray of sunshine.

They look very cute together.

That is, until one day, they witness Danny and Tim rip Joker's ribcage out of his chest.

Nothing could have prepared them for it. It was just another patrol, just another night of fighting crime, nothing out of the ordinary. Sure, Joker was on the loose, but so far, no one has tracked the Clown down or seen any of his goons.

But then, Red Robin's tracker went offline. The Bats started searching for him immediately - his last recorded location, his trackers, his route, everything. But when they managed to find him...

Well.

They didn't only find him in that warehouse.

They found Joker, choking on the ground and clawing at his own neck, like trying to force some air inside his lungs. Over him, Danny was squatting on the ground, his eyes thoughtful and not worried in the slightest, tapping on his chin. And, just a step behind him, Red Robin is holding a fucking ribcage in his hands, studying it with calm curiosity.

"Should we put it back now?" Tim asks, relaxed and easy, like they are speaking about whether they should or should not get another box of cereal in a store.

Danny shrugs, "I mean, if you want to. It's not like he's gonna die in the next ten or so minutes, you've got time."

And then, as Batman makes the slightest of noises, Danny's head snaps to him, and the boy smiles, cheerful and bright. Like the ray of sunshine he is.

"Hi, Bats!" Then he blinks and looks down to Joker, who is already frothing at the mouth, "Oh, don't worry about him, he won't die. Red's just putting a tracker in his manibrium."

"I figured it'd be easier to find him next time if he can't get the tracker out," Tim nods, unbothered, as he is tinkering with the ribcage in his hands before passing it back to Danny, "Okay, done. Put it back."

Danny takes the ribcage and presses it to Joker's chest. And, before they know it, the bones sink inside the man, like a hand in a bowl of sand.

Danny wipes his hands on his jeans and stands. Tim smiles at the Bats, none of whom know what to say and where to start.

The next day, Joker is back at Arkham with a tracker in his sternum, Danny is invited to dinner in the manor, and Tim takes the first place of the Feral List, with a note 'never leave unattended when Danny is nearby'.

[whytheylosttheirminds]

snooze - r.c.

(season 4 bf!rafe x gf!reader blurb, 4.1k words)

summary Your man works harder than anyone you know, and you couldn’t love him more for it, but some mornings you just want to hold on to him a little longer…

content fluff/smut, mutual mast., p in v, 18+ minors do not interact

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Rafe’s alarm rings through the large bedroom like a blaring siren, jerking you violently from the sweet sleep you were just wrapped in. He doesn’t hear it at first, still sound asleep next to you, snores rumbling through his bare chest.

You blink your eyes open, the room is still dark, though the first golden rays of the sunrise creep in through the small crack in the curtains. You twist your body towards Rafe, snuggling your head into his neck, an attempt to both shield your eyes from the sunlight and get his attention, desperate for him to silence the loud alarm.

After a few seconds, he still hasn’t heard it, so you reach up and gently tap his cheek.

“Baby,” you groan, cheek pressed against his shoulder. “Too loud.” 

Rafe takes a deep breath in, eyes still closed as he reaches his bedside table, tapping his phone screen clumsily until the sound subsides.

He settles back in, placing a quick kiss onto the top of your head as he pulls you into his side. You sigh happily, running your nails softly up and down his chest and stomach, drawing little hearts and stars on his skin. He shivers when you graze over the soft skin of his lower stomach, following his happy trail down to his waistband. You fully plan on dipping your hand below it, where he’s already twitching and firming up for you under his sweatpants, but you get distracted by the delicious deep V lines on either side of his waist. You dip your pointer finger into the valley of muscle and trace the shape down, switching to the other side and drawing back up.

He stirs when you angle your finger to scratch lightly with your manicured nail, lingering just above the band of his Calvins that peeks out from his sweats.

“That’s so nice, baby,” he mumbles in his deep, crackling morning voice, “I love these hands.”

Rafe laces his fingers in yours with one hand, his other arm sliding under your neck and wrapping around your shoulders. He pulls you close so he can drop a sloppy kiss on your temple.

You sigh and lift your intertwined hands to place a kiss on each of his knuckles.

“Maybe you should stay home,” you suggest between kisses. “Then you can enjoy these hands all day long.”

He smiles knowingly, still not opening his eyes. You play this game every morning, trying to find ways to convince him to play hooky from work, though they never succeed. He’s always showered and out the door by sunrise, leaving you with a cup of coffee on your nightstand and a quick kiss as you drift back to sleep.

“Sounds perfect, but I have an 8 a.m. with a potential investor,” he explains.

In the quiet, Rafe starts to drift off again. You continue to stroke his chest and think of all the many enticing reasons for him to stay, but before you can list them for him, his alarm blares from his phone again. 

You lean over him, reaching to the phone on his nightstand. He takes the opportunity to snake his hand around your waist and slide it under his big t-shirt you're wearing. His hands feel so nice on your lower back, you pause, almost forgetting what you were reaching for in the first place, until the alarm rings out again, making you both wince with its volume. You tap the screen desperately until it’s silenced.

“Just hitting snooze so we can have five more minutes,” you say, settling down over him and resting your cheek on his chest.

“Liar,” he says with a sleepy smirk. “You turned it off.”

You fake an offended gasp, “I can’t believe you’re accusing me of such deception, Rafe Cameron.”

“So when five minutes go by and the alarm doesn’t go off again, what are you gonna say then?”

“I was hoping you’d fall back to sleep by then,” you confess with a giggle, laying a soft kiss on his chest, right over his heart.

“I knew it.”

He sits up in bed, causing you to fall back onto the pillows, immediately missing his warmth. You paw at his arm as he reaches over to check the time on his phone.

“Nooo,” you whine. “Don’t go yet.”

He smiles down at you, leaning over to place loving kisses on the edge of your jaw and up your face, touching his lips to your temple one final time before standing from the bed.

Your vision is still fuzzy from sleep and the darkness of the room, but you follow the general shape of him as he walks to the wall of windows on the other side of the room. He’s shirtless, the lower half of his body covered in soft gray sweats. You squirm a little under the comforter as you take him in. You didn’t know it was possible to be this attracted to someone, but it’s like every day you’re with him, your body craves him more, and it makes it that much more painful when he leaves.

Rafe interrupts your reverie by lifting his arms and throwing the curtains wide open. You flinch at the bright sunlight that pours through the windows like it’s burning you.

“Too bright, Rafe!” You protest. 

He just turns with a smug smile, his tall silhouette casting a shadow over the bed, blocking you from the blinding sun.

“I’ll make you some coffee before I go,” he promises as he leaves you alone in the bedroom, pulling a pillow over your face to shield yourself from the daylight.

It’s silly to complain when his hard work is the whole reason you can lay in this comfortable bed so late into the morning. When he’s not with you, he’s at the office, earning you all this comfort, but it still seems unfair when you want him this badly.

You used to be an early riser, but the way he lays you down every night when he gets home, fucking you hard and slow until you fall asleep clinging to him, it’s made you a whole new person. You’d pay him twice his salary if you had it just to get him to stick around a little longer, make you feel that good again.

A devious idea comes to your brain, and you pull the covers from yourself quickly, making fast moves before he gets back.

When Rafe comes back into the room a few minutes later, he nearly spills your hot coffee all over himself at the sight that greets him.

The comforter is bundled at the end of the bed, nothing covering your body as you stretch out on the mattress. You’ve switched out his t-shirt and your baggy sweats for a silky pair of boy-short panties and a lacy bra. You're facing away from him, laying on your side, the curve of your hips and peekaboo view of your ass casting a scandalous shadow on the wall. The fabric of your panties is so flimsy, it climbs up the curve of your ass, revealing you to him as if they’re barely there at all.

“Nice try,” he shakes his head, though the small crack in his voice betrays his defiance. You know you’ve got him hard and frazzled.

“Hmmm?” You don’t turn to look at him, instead bending your knee and sliding one leg up higher to give him an even better angle of your ass. 

“It’s not gonna work…” he insists, setting your coffee down, fully intending to turn and make his way to the walk-in closet to get dressed, yet somehow finding himself completely immobile.

“What’s not going to work?” You echo, feigning cluelessness in a way you know is gonna drive him mad.

“I really do have a meeting,” he continues his one-sided argument, trying desperately to convince himself. “I can’t be late, it’s important.”

“Okay! Have a good day, baby,” you yawn, shifting on the sheets as if you’re just getting comfortable, hoping he doesn’t see the smile you’re hiding in your pillow, obsessed with the strain in his voice that reveals his resolve is cracking.

The mattress sinks slowly under his weight, and you can feel the heat of him before he even touches your skin. His hand slides up your leg, from your ankle all the way up to your thigh, where he pauses to squeeze your flesh. 

“You’re gonna be late,” you let your mouth twist into a cheeky smile. 

He huffs a defeated laugh, letting his forehead fall onto your shoulder in frustration, “you’re killing me.”

“I’m not doing anything!” You giggle, arching your back and giving him a better glimpse at the other side of you, your nipples already pebbling in anticipation, clearly visible through your see through bra.

Rafe responds by saying your name, so low and needy it’s almost inaudible. You twist your torso just enough to meet his eyes, blinking at him sweetly through your eyelashes.

“Yes?”

He doesn’t respond with words, just a piercing gaze. His blue eyes are blown wide with lust as he takes you in, dragging over your body helplessly, fighting an internal battle as he plots his next move. Filthy thoughts are etched on his face, you know him well enough by now to see the gears turn behind his eyes, imagining all the things he could do to you if he stayed.

“Can I at least have a kiss before you go?” You ask, hoping the taste of your lips will tip the scales in your favor.

He can’t deny you a kiss, he never does, so he leans in and meets your lips with a nod, his hand rising to softly cradle your jaw. You run your tongue so gently across his lower lip that he wonders if he imagined it. When you part your lips for him and release a small sigh, the game is over.

With another squeeze of your thigh, he pulls back from you just enough to reach his phone on the nightstand. You watch with a victorious grin as he types out a quick message, surely to his secretary, and tosses the phone somewhere on the bed. 

“Bought us an hour,” he tells you.

“Only an hour?” You pout.

“Don’t be greedy,” he teases you, shuffling behind you so he can spoon you, placing a dozen quick kisses up your arm, making you giggle in delight.

Rafe’s hand slides from your thigh to your waist, dipping to splay over your stomach so he can pull you flush against him. You sigh dreamily as he begins to suckle on your neck, leaving little pink marks everywhere his lips touch.

“Wasn’t that kind of an important meeting?” You ask, feeling a little guilty for potentially making him miss out on a good opportunity.

“Nothing’s more important than this,” he assures you.

You let out a little whimper at his sweet words, igniting a fire in him. His hand drifts up your stomach until his palm is settled over your breast, kneading gently. 

“Oh,” you gasp. “That feels good.” 

“Yeah?” He drawls with a crooked grin, pausing to drag the tip of his tongue over the shell of your ear, making you shiver. “Just needed a little attention today?”

“Mhm,” you nod. “Needed you.”

His hand leaves you for a minute to fiddle with the clasp of your bra. You lift your arms up so he can slide it off and toss it somewhere on the floor of the massive master suite.

The rough skin of his palm comes back to rest over your hard nipple, the sensation is so sweet that your whole body hums with pleasure. 

“God you’re so soft,” he breathes over the wet spot he’s just left on your skin, “love these tits so much.”

With that confession, he pinches your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, the pain lasting only a second before he smoothes it over with the pad of his thumb.

“Rafe!” You squeak out at the sting.

He shushes you gently, lowering his mouth to pull your earlobe between his teeth, the pressure strong, but not strong enough to pull your mind from the way his hand is dropping lower on your torso towards your panties. A pool of silky arousal gathered between your legs, you rub your thighs together in search of friction as his hand continues to move maddeningly slow.

“Don’t worry baby,” he coos, “gonna take good care of you like I always do.”

Your fingernails dig into the sheets in preparation when he finally reaches the band of your panties, lifting them to slide his hand in.

“You always take such good care of me, Rafe,” you agree.

He places his other arm under your head for support, allowing you to look down at the outline of his big hand wriggling under the damp cloth of your panties. His fingers find your entrance easily, pausing outside to swirl in your wetness.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he praises. “Always so ready for me.”

After a few more swirls, he’s satisfied with the coating, dragging his fingers back up to your clit. He hits it right away, he could find it in a hurricane. He runs his fingers over you at the perfect angle, starting with delicate figure eights.

Your head falls forward in ecstasy, unable to form words. Rafe bends his arm at the elbow, laying his hand flat against your forehead to pull your head back into his chest, your neck arching with the stretch. The pink spots he’s left on your exposed throat have darkened nicely, giving him a chance to appreciate his handiwork. He reattaches his lips, desperate to claim you as many times as he can, hungry for you.

The sweetest, breathiest moans fall from your puffy lips, and he basks in them like the sunlight that’s bleeding through the curtains. He’s nibbling on your shoulder like it’s his breakfast as his fingers pick up speed on your clit. 

Between circles and flicks, he stops to tap quickly with the tip of his middle finger, the rhythmic pressure and release has the sensitive bud pulsing. You chase his fingers pathetically with the roll of your hips, needing more.  

As you writhe, his cloth covered cock slots between the valley of your ass, each wave of your hips grinding perfectly against his shaft. You shut your eyes tight, picturing his perfect length and the gorgeous noises he makes when he comes. You need to hear those sounds like you need air.

Your hand releases from the sheets, reaching behind you to rub the hard ridge of his dick over his sweatpants. Rafe clenches his jaw, a throaty groan vibrating through his chest and straight into your body. 

“This what you wanted, angel?” He asks, his tone dominant and desperate all at the same time. The perfect balance of ownership and a genuine urgency to please you.

“Just wanted you,” you confirm through labored pants, grinding yourself into his hand, “all I ever want is you.”

“Oh yeah? Show me.”

No further instruction needed, your hand finally dips below his waistband, immediately finding his pulsing cock. 

“Shi-ii-t,” he shudders as you wrap your fingers around him, stroking slowly and reveling in how hard you’ve made him.

You notice goosebumps rush up the arm that’s disappearing into your panties, you realize your hands must be cold. You know he’d never complain, but you don’t just want him to feel good, you want him to feel as amazing as he makes you feel.

You draw your hand back from his boxers, and he groans at your absence, nearly protesting until he sees what you’re doing. You dip your hand into your underwear, gently nudging his out of the way, and collect some of your wetness onto your own fingers. Your hand glistens in the morning sunlight when you pull it out, displaying it for him before returning your grip to his cock.

He’s speechless. Eyes rolling back at how fucking sexy that was, desperate to ground himself before he comes too quickly in your hand. He moves his palm down from your forehead to cup your throat, not too much pressure to hurt, but enough to remind you how strong he is. You whimper, swallowing hard under his broad palm.

“Jesus christ, baby,” he sputters, “you’re my fucking dream girl.” 

You fall in sync, Rafe rubbing tight, firm circles over your clit, while you slide your hand up and down his shaft, pausing at the tip with each stroke to swirl your thumb in the precum he’s leaking. His knuckles flex in response to each flick of your thumb, pads of his fingers holding and releasing your neck in steady pulses. 

You squeeze his cock as he squeezes your throat, so perfectly aligned in your drunken pleasure that you both chuckle at how unbelievable it feels. But if you’re laughing, then surely he’s not doing a good enough job.  

He draws your clit between his fingers, rolling over and over, not pinching too hard, but just hard enough to set every nerve ending in your body on fire. You draw your knees up, your hand slowing involuntarily on his cock as you feel the familiar coil tighten in your tummy, seconds from snapping.

“I can’t believe you’re real, you’re so perfect,” Rafe whispers into your shoulder, kissing you over and over.

“Gonna make me come talking like that, baby,” you warn him.

“You want that? You want me to make you come in my hand?”

“Not yet,” you choke out, so close that you’re already dreading coming down from your high. It’s too soon, it’s not enough. No amount of him will ever be enough, but you at least need him closer. “Want you inside, need you in me.”

“Anything. Anything you want,” he swears as he pulls his hand from your core to rip your panties down your legs. You pull them off over your feet and toss them away as he removes his pants and boxers behind you. 

The fabric finally out of the way, his dick spears into your back, somehow always so much bigger and more powerful than you remember. You pray he doesn’t make you wait any longer, wriggling back onto your side so your soaked pussy is perfectly exposed to him. 

In the soft morning light, he finally gets a good view of your slick folds, nearly busting all over your back at the sight. He’s filled this new condo with the most expensive art he could find, but nothing comes close to the masterpiece in front of him. To him, you’re fucking priceless.

He wastes no more time, tucking a hand under your knee to angle your leg up. You take his cue, understanding each other without words as always, and brace your foot flat against his calf, propping yourself open for him.

A combination of the angle and his picture perfect memory of your walls has his tip hitting your g-spot on the very first thrust. He stretches you so sweetly, the tight fit making your brain go foggy and your mouth fall open, gasping helplessly.

“Like this?” He asks, not taunting but not really asking either, already knowing the answer to “this how you want it?”

“Not quite,” you whisper. 

He freezes with confusion before you reach behind you to find the hand he has braced on your hip, pulling it up and placing it back around your neck.

“There,” you say, “now it’s perfect.”

“Holy shit,” Rafe stammers, hips jerking forward, slamming into you a little too hard, lost in his infatuation with you. 

At first he worries it’s too hard, but a dreamy moan rises from your throat and you encourage, “yes, yes, like that, please.”

Mouth agape in disbelief at his pure fucking luck in finding you, he obeys your plea, pulling back slow before thrusting in hard again. The hand that’s not on your throat pushes into the mattress beneath your head, lifting himself up for leverage. He continues to fuck into you hard, pausing after each stroke to hit as deep as he can possibly get. You’re a mess, crying out with each slap of his hips against your ass, blabbering incoherently as you clench around him.

“Ohhh my god you’re so tight,” he growls through gritted teeth. “‘I’m gonna come if you keep squeezing me like that. You gonna let me come inside?”

Your eyes fly open as an invisible light bulb goes off above your head, you twist to meet his eyes, his lids low and irises completely blown out with lust.

“If I do, will you stay home?” you proposition him.

He scoffs, shaking his head in pure amusement and adoration, tongue digging into the side of his cheek in the cocky way you love. From this angle, the sharp features of his perfect face hover just inches from yours. The sheer attraction you feel makes your walls flutter around his cock, a tease of his reward if he promises to stay.

Rafe screws his eyes shut, his head falling back as you pulse around him repeatedly.

“Fuck! Yes, I promise, I promise,” he cries out as he continues thrusting into you sloppily, “I’ll do anything. I’ll sell my house, I’ll change my fucking name. Just ask me and I’ll do it.”

His theatrics delight you, bubbly giggles rising from your stomach as he loses himself in you. You can’t remember ever loving anyone as much as you love him at this moment.

“Kiss me,” you whisper, completely enamored with the man inside you.

Without a thought, he slips the hand on your throat to the back of your neck, kneading your skin as he pulls your mouth to his. It’s not gentle, like his typical good morning kisses, it’s messy and wet and hard and completely mind numbing. You bite on his bottom lip, almost accidentally, losing your mind at the taste of him.

“B-baby,” he stutters, his hips doing the same, “can’t - fuck -  can’t wait any longer. Tell me where you want it.”

“Mmmph, inside, please! Please fill me up, Rafe.”

It’s all he needs to hear, he buries himself deeper than he’s ever been. 

“Come with me?” he pleads.

You’re so close, you can’t even find words, nodding rapidly. He hits your g-spot one final time and you slip off the edge of the earth into uncut ecstasy.

Your eyes roll back and your toes dig into his leg, bruising his calf. His tip hits your cervix hard, hot cum pooling deep in your core, spilling out of him for longer than you thought possible. His breath is ragged and his chest heaving as his body jerks around you.

Both trembling, his arm gives out and he slumps down, curled around you. Sweaty and satisfied, you catch your breath together, Rafe still buried deep. 

He plants wet kisses on the nape of your neck, brushing your hair out of the way and blowing gently to cool you down. You see only bright white behind your closed eyes, floating in a perfect pleasure you didn’t know was possible until you met this man.

After a few moments, or possibly hours, he starts to pull out. Your hips chase his defiantly, refusing to lose his warmth again.

“Nuh-uh,” you shake your head, reaching back to grab his hip and hold him in place. “You promised.”

“I also promised to change my name, you gonna make me do that, too?” He laughs.

“Maybe.”

“Oh really? What are you gonna call me?”

“I dunno,” you shrug. “How about daddy?”

Your teasing has the intended effect, Rafe twitching inside you, already hardening again. He knows you’re just playing with him, but his mind spirals out of control at the pet name. He’s so in love he thinks it might kill him.

Settling back into you, he reaches around the bed until his hand finds his discarded cell phone.

Your lips twist into a smirk as you hear him dial, still buried in your heat.

The dial tone rings a few times and he says, “yeah, gonna need you to clear my whole day. Something came up.”

He thanks the voice on the other line, hanging up and tossing his phone somewhere in the mountain of blankets on the floor.

“A whole day?” You ask, nestling back into his chest. “Aren’t you gonna lose the money from those investors?”

“Probably,” he shrugs, laying more slow kisses on your shoulder. “Worth every fucking cent.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[roanniom]

For the Road

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk

You lie in the quiet of dawn, cool rays of a hesitant sunrise filtering through the curtains, as Eddie plays with your fingers.

“I don’t want to go on tour.”

His words are so soft you almost don’t hear them muffled against your neck. It’s the first either of you have spoken since you’d woken up in each other’s arms. Distress pricks your throat.

“Why not? You’re going to have so much fun and the crowds are gonna be sick.” Your tone is cheery. You want the best for your man, even if that means feigning excitement in the face of his imminent departure.

Eddie shifts in bed in order to look at you.

“You won’t be there.”

In spite of the stubble that’s accumulated on his face over night, his crumpled expression leaves him looking boyish. Your heart aches.

“I will be there, silly. You know I’m coming to London to meet up with you.”

“Yeah, at the end of the tour,” he groans, burying his face back against your neck. The laugh you let out in response is genuine. You don’t want him to be hurting, but his petulance is endearing in this context. Plus, you secretly like knowing you aren’t the only one dreading your separation.

“I’ll just be a phone call away, you know.”

“Promise?”

You tap him till he looks up at you again so he can see your outstretched pinky. Grinning, he hooks his larger one around yours.

“I’ll be waiting for you, Eddie Munson,” you reply.

“And thinking impure thoughts about me?” Eddie asks hopefully, a wolfish grin lighting up his features. You slide your free hand down his chest and under the covers.

“I only think impure thoughts about you, babe.” You go to press against what you assumed would be his half aroused member only to find it fully rigid under your palm. You intake breath sharply with a laugh. “You’re already hard?”

“What do you expect? Your hand is on my dick.” Eddie says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world.

“Yeah, for like two seconds,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“What can I say? That’s all it takes—fuuuck.”

Eddie trails off into a groan as you wrap your hand around his length in earnest under the waistband of his boxers.

It’s only a few minutes before he’s panting, head tossed back and wavy hair sprayed out against the pillows.

“Oh fuck, just like that, baby.” His voice is low. Gruff with lust and leftover sleep. “You’ve got the magic touch, you know that?”

You hum in response. You’re too focused on the “task at hand” to let him really distract you with his praise. You’re stationed between his thighs, one hand gripping the base of his cock while the other fists up and down, squeezing and twisting over the mushroom head with a flourish each time.

Each time the tip is exposed, you flick your tongue over it, rewarded with his deep moans.

If Eddie was going to be on the road, you were going to be leaving him with plenty of material for his daydreams.

When you start bobbing up and down, taking him deeper in your mouth, that’s when his hips start bucking.

“Princess, it’s - shit - morning. You know I can’t…fuck. Can’t last long in the morning.” He attempts to push you off but you just look up with a grin, your hands still working him expertly.

“Oh I know.”

“I haven’t gotten you yet,” he practically whines, reaching to squeeze at your breast through your sleep shirt.

“I’ll sit on your face later. Right now I want you to cum, ok baby?” you ask before dropping back down to take him all the way down your throat without further warning.

Eddie gasps and his whole body jerks.

“Holy fucking…oh god. Yes ma’am.”

~*~

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—-

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I hope you enjoyed this little blurb as I get back into posting! Please let me know what you think! I’ve been gone a long time and would love to hear from you guys

[blissfullsvn]

under the glow

pairing. yeonjun x reader genre. fluff, established relationship word count. 0.6k warnings. n/a (just disgustingly fluffy. and they kiss a lil but ntg suggestive) masterlist

yeonjun shines on stage.

his body sways with the music, movements clear and precise. his voice melts into the instrumental and delivers the melody to curious ears, dripping with honey. his eyes twinkle when he looks at the audience; smile brightens when he sees looks of joy from them. on stage, yeonjun shines the brightest.

but in times like this, yeonjun shines differently.

in times like an early sunday morning, rays of light peeking through the curtains and casting a halo on the half-awake boy, yeonjun shines just like the premature sunlight. like the glow of a firefly under the summer heat. like the moonlight glossing over rippling waves and dark roads.

yeonjun doesn’t shine so brightly that it hurts the eyes, but he shines softly. comfortably. not enough to blind, but enough to grasp attention, that you can’t help but keep your eyes on him.

as yeonjun lets out a quiet groan and stretches with all limbs, then looks around like he’s processing every stimuli that he takes in, you only watch him silently. admire him silently.

when he turns to face you, the recognition in his eyes is instant. you truthfully can’t remember the last time his eyes weren’t this warm to you, scrunching into crescents whenever he so much as glances at you, even from miles away. so before he can greet you in his raspy, morning voice, you find yourself reaching forward to press onto his plush lips.

yeonjun’s eyes widen in surprise, and he looks a little confused, but fond all the same. his lips stretch across his face, and then it falters slightly, transitioning into a soft smile that translates all the adoration in his eyes. he taps your nose, asks you if anything's up, and stares at you with honey all the while.

your heart is full. so, so, full. this man, who has way too much love to give, is wholeheartedly ready to give all of that to you, and more. you stare at him, eyes dancing across his every feature, from the mole under his eye to the perpetual pout in his lips, and find yourself reaching for his lips again.

this time, when you try to pull back again, yeonjun frames your face and holds it there, thumb rubbing gently across your cheekbone. he smiles, then leans over to connect your lips once more. and again. and again. and a few more times more. it’s all quick, chaste pecks, until he pulls away again for longer, and he just stares at you. like he’s fascinated. like he can’t believe he has you under him (which happened in the midst of attacking you with love), one hand supporting his weight and the other carefully wrapped around your jaw, fingers trapped behind your ear.

and slowly, he tilts your head upwards, lowers himself, and closes the gap between you. slow and soft, but meaningful. in perfect rhythm, as if dancing for the birds singing their repertoire. with each movement, love seeps out from heart to heart, captured from mouth to mouth, until your entire body is so full of love that it’s about to explode and you have to place a hand on the stopper.

for a few moments, you look at each other, take in the sight of your heaving chests in sync, breaths echoing around the room, and the rays of sunlight bathing the room in a golden glow. it’s silent, but so many words are exchanged. 

then the sunlight grows stronger and shines directly on yeonjun, and he immediately yells at the blinding rays before rolling over and burying his face in his pillow, grumbling about how the sun is annoyingly bright for a sunday. 

the atmosphere vanishes with your laugh, but the love is always there.

that’s how it always is with yeonjun.

a/n. am i aware that this is incredibly self-indulgent (again)? yes. do i care? no.

also super unnecessary tmi no one asked: i wrote this while i was charging my phone bcs it was dying but then it ended up overheating (don't use your phone when it's charging) so i almost d worded . stay safe guys (no one)

© blissfullsvn 2024. All Rights Reserved.

[koenigami]

swimming lesson gone wrong with wriothesley. tags : fem!reader, fluff, pining, reader cannot swim wc : 1,4k

-

Rays of sunshine glimmer in the reflection of the sea while its distinct salty odour invades your nostrils, a light breeze sweeping through your hair. And while desperately trying to tame the wild locks, you realise that this could be such a wonderful scenery to enjoy if it weren’t for your clammy hands and the gigantic ball of doom resting in the pit of your stomach.

“Can’t we just sunbathe?” You sound rather sheepish as you let your naked toes wiggle in the sand, feeling the tiny corns slip through their crevices while you unconsciously dig yourself deeper into the ground beneath you. 

“We can.” Wriothesely states throwing a lazy grin at you over his shoulders before shedding each layer of fabric off his body, revealing scarred, bare skin and muscles that would make any other woman let herself drown in the sea just to get rescued by this adonis of a man. However right now, it’s not his astonishing looks that make your pulse ricochet but rather the sight of the recurrent waves that wash up on the shore and retreat back to the sea. Others consider it a pleasant, even relaxing movement while your body reacts as if it were the most vile thing you had ever laid your eyes upon, leaving you with nausea and dizziness. “But not now. Ever heard of work first, play later?” 

The lighthearted chuckle that he lets out when you mockingly repeat his words is enough to ease your mind for at least a little bit. Though in lieu of being in need of his comfort, you would much rather appreciate it if you could just stay on dry land, sprawled on your dry towel in a dry bikini. Instead, you feel the tight, stretchy fabric of the one piece swimsuit that you’re wearing cling to your body in a way that seems like it is restricting and suffocating you more and more with each passing second. 

Your fear is evident, Wriothesely can tell by the way you’re unintentionally making yourself look smaller, arms folded over your chest, and gaze not going any further than five feet in front of you. The view of the vast ocean obviously intimidates you now that you know that you’ll soon be inside of it. 

With tentative steps, he pads through the hot sand and approaches you. “You know that you have the last say in this, right?” What the sun does to you on the outside, is what his deep, steady voice does to you on the inside. You redirect your stare when you feel a reassuring hand of his settle on your shoulder, forcing you to look into another deep pool of blue. “We don’t have to do this today. Or at all.” 

Even though he’s speaking his words truthfully, Wriothesely has to admit that it would appease him a lot if he knew that you would not sink like a rock as soon as you stepped into water. 

“Is there anything that you can’t do?” He had uttered his rhetorical question earlier this week after you brought him a freshly brewed cup of tea and the exact documents of a newly admitted inmate. Getting his hands on them had turned out to be not quite as easy as he had initially thought, though with you being a renowned lawyer at the Palais Mermonia and having more than a handful of connections, you had managed to get access to all the official papers that Wriothesley needed. Leaning your hip against his desk, you lightly tapped your chin in thought with that sweet smile of yours that could brighten even the darkest corner of his office. 

“I can’t swim.” You confessed simply as if telling him that the sky was blue. “P-Pardon?” 

Wriothesley’s reaction was one that you were used to, especially because most Fontanians reacted similarly after telling them that you were a non-swimmer. Being afraid of water while living in a region that was surrounded by nothing but water and even ruled by the hydro archon; yes, a little ironic. 

You don’t remember what part of your conversation had deviated into Wriothesley offering you swimming lessons on your free days, and what part of your brain deemed it smart to accept said offer, but what you know was that there is no going back. 

So with a deep sigh and lopsided smile, you reassure him that you want to do this. That you can do this. 

-

In fact, you cannot do this, you realise once you feel the waves slosh around your waist.

Their weight pulls and pushes you back and forth, and even though you’re aware that it’s not some incredible strength, you and your fear stricken mind can’t help but imagine scenarios of you helplessly being carried through the depths of the ocean like a weightless leaf being thrown around by the winds. 

“You’re too tense.” Your lips part in a silent gasp when warm air tickles your ear, and Wriothesley’s hands settle on your upper arms. The light, barely tangible circles that his thumbs draw along your skin are something that he does unintentionally, though they make your stiff shoulders drop the slightest bit and let the air flow easier into your lungs. 

You’re safe; a constant reminder to yourself once you become aware of his proximity as the steady rhythm of his breaths lulls you into a trance.

For a short moment, you’re at peace. You let your fingers dance along the surface of the sea, dipping your hands inside and pushing the water back and forth as if being able to wield the power of hydro. Yes, you’re in control. You’re safe. You’re in control. You’re safe. You’re-

“Wriothesley-” There’s a sudden splash in the distance. Loud noise. Children screaming and laughing all of a sudden and ducks frantically quacking and flapping their wings as they flee the scene, flying away above your heads into the far distance of the horizon. 

You don’t realise how fast everything happened until you find yourself in the Duke’s arms, his sturdy chest against your soft breasts, so close that you swear he can feel the fast beat of your heart. He caught you. Of course he did. “Seems like we got some company.”

Looking past his shoulder, you see a group of people not too far away from you. Two adults and two children…a family. You watch the young girl and boy look up the cliff with wide sparkling eyes, amazed by their father as he jumps and dives into the water. Applause and more happy giggles and laughter follow, though all you can feel right now is the heat in your face as you unintentionally bury it back into Wriothesley’s neck. 

So that is what scared you. 

“Hey.” You feel his body vibrate against yours as he laughs, and you witness yourself refusing to look at him. “It’s alright. I should have expected that other swimmers might make you feel uncomfortable.”

“This is so embarrassing.” You miss his toothy grin as you mumble against his skin, pressing your face further into him as if he were a portal through which you could make yourself disappear forever. 

“It’s not.” And he laughs again when you smack his chest, a response to the hidden sarcasm behind his words. “Alright, maybe a little.” But he truly could not care less. You’re always so pulled together, so determined, so placid, so… you. Countless times, he has tried to get under your skin, be it with overly exaggerated sweet talk that would make you roll your pretty eyes in faux annoyance, or certain gestures just to get a reaction out of you. It never happened. You take everything he gives you with a certain naturalness that would make it seem as if his casual compliments are a matter of course, as if the gentle brush of his hand to get your hair out of your face while you work on a report is normal between people like you and him. Whether it is because you’re overly comfortable in his presence or because you’ve decided for yourself that you’re too far out of his reach to give his moves any mind, Wriothesley tries not to think too much about it. And if this current side of you might be one that not many people get to see, then he’ll absolutely make sure to treasure it like a precious, fragile gem. Just like he does with every other interaction that he has with you.  

[rustedhearts]

the one where 70s!steve gets jealous when eddie munson is flirting with you at the halloween bonfire (flashback)...

eddie munson was flirting with you.

it was halloween and eddie munson was flirting with you.

steve watched through the scalding amber rays of fire as eddie wiggled his way closer and closer as the night grew darker. the bonfire spit sparks against an inky sky, and someone’s car had an 8-track playing bob dylan.

steve didn’t like bob dylan, and he didn’t like eddie fucking munson pushing your hair out of your face.

he had no business voicing this matter, though. you were here to celebrate halloween like you always did, an avid member of the annual harrington bonfire circle. munson was here on his own accord, dealing scrunched-up dime bags from the pockets of his leather coat.

steve was here with nancy, though she left him alone a while ago. pranced off somewhere in the dark to chat with a friend.

leaving steve to watch you, his best friend, fall for the charm of that long-haired freak.

holding the miller high life steve gave you nearly an hour ago, in the sweatshirt he leant you yesterday that you decidedly would not be giving back, in the lawn chair you tanned in over the summer in his driveway.

steve gnawed on the skin around his thumbnail and bounced his boot on the grass.

eddie leaned forward and brushed your hair behind your ear. tipped his head to the side and flashed a dimpled smirk.

steve placed his beer on the floor and pressed to his feet.

his sneakers spit gravel into roaring bonfire flames as he closed in. with each stomp closer, your flirtatious giggles rang in his ears. eddie had his hand on your shoulder, rubbing through your coat. you flipped your hair out of the way and grazed his thigh on the way down.

"what's goin' on here?" steve's voice broke through the barier that seemed to form around the pair of you.

the barrier you'd happily been sitting in all night.

you looked away from eddie, cheeks warm and sore from grinning, and up at your best friend. "oh, hi, steve."

but steve had his eye set on eddie, and you watched in increasingly mortified shock as steve pulled his shoulders back and squared them off. his "tough" stance, a position you'd only seen him in one other time when you were fourteen and a man outside of the mini-mart started asking you strange questions.

"hey, man," eddie greeted, another coy grin on his face as he eyed steve in his periphery.

he still hadn't turned away from you and that just pissed steve off more. your knees were touching, for christ's sake.

"hey," steve barked, shuffling closer until he towered over the pair of you, hands shifting to his hips.

you screwed your nose up at him, brows knitting together—but he practically ignored you. someone on the other side of the flames began to strum "gallow's pole." the acoustic pluck was no match for the irritation you felt staring at your best friend while he blatantly humiliated you.

under his attempt at intimidation, eddie chuckled and collected his beer from the ground.

"ohh-kayy," he laughed. "see you later."

he tapped you on your knee as he stood, making his way toward the led zeppelin player. in his absence, steve scoffed and shook his head, sinking into eddie's abandoned chair with ease.

"can you believe that guy—"

"what the fuck was that?" you scolded, reaching out to punch his arm.

steve cradled it immediately. "ow!"

"why did you do that?" you glared at him sternly.

but steve only leaned back and shrugged, folding his arms together. the flames crackled and illuminated his face with an orange halo.

"you don't wanna be hanging around with him."

rage bubbled in your chest. "says who?"

steve shrugged again. stupid fucking broad shoulders. "me."

you stood to your feet with such force that it knocked your plastic chair over. steve's gaze followed you in instant surprise.

"you can't tell me who to hang out with, steve. where's your goddamn girlfriend anyway?"

steve swallowed, eyes bouncing around the circle of chairs and the bodies lingering beyond it in the yard. what was nancy wearing tonight? his cheeks burned red hot, spreading up to the tops of his ears. thank god he was growing his hair out.

"i dunno, in the bathroom—"

"well, go worry about her, harrington. not me."

he watched you disappear into the blackness of the yard. nancy’s pink skirt fluttered in his periphery as she took your seat.

“hey.” her lips touched his cheek and he wished he wasn’t pretending they were yours. “miss me?”

steve tore his eyes away from the darkness and turned them to his girlfriend. he flashed a handsome smile and tucked her under his arm.

“of course. like you wouldn’t believe.”

[wrestletotheground]

you get me closer to god - matty healy x reader (part one)

boss!matty

cw: ! minors dni ! smut, age gap (20/34), power imbalance, cheating, f!reader, dom/sub, male masturbation, spit, cumplay, voyeurism, semi-public, office work affair, general filth and nasty behaviour

wc: 2.1k

8:30am

you're sat on the sofa across from matty in his office, basking in the slanted rays of sunlight that peep through the blinds. the office is warm, the air filled with a faint musky scent that's recently become a comfort to you.

he called you in early supposedly to discuss your 'behaviour in the workplace', but so far it's just been him making small talk about work and typing away, deliberately acting oblivious towards the tension in the room. he throws you the occasional glance over his computer screen, but they never linger long enough to satisfy you. you're practically twiddling your thumbs in conversation, vying for his attention any way you can by throwing in little jokes and references or tapping your fingers on the chair, but he won't budge.

his breaking point is when you clear your throat obnoxiously loudly, spreading your legs and crossing them again in your skimpy little skirt just to taunt him. and oh, it works. this time it's more than a short glance. his jaw clenches as he watches you, knuckles turning white as he balls his hands into fists. it takes everything in him not to pounce on you, as if you'd mind. you smile sweetly, a glint in your eyes as you relax into the chair.

he mutters something under his breath before shutting off his laptop and clearing away the stacks of papers that litter the space in front of him. a few pens clatter to the floor as he carelessly throws everything aside. all the while you can't stop staring at him, trying to figure out the almost unreadable expression on his face.

he taps the desk in front of him twice, gesturing with his head and looking at you expectantly. the fiery look in his eyes tells you you're in for it today. he stares intently, hungrily, as you stand up and walk around as slowly as possible, just to push his buttons. before you have the chance to get up onto the desk, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you into him, making your entire face heat up.

'you know exactly what you're doing, don't you? been walking around all week in these little skirts,' he says, giving it a tug to emphasise his point. you bite the tip of your crimson painted nail and shake your head, acting naive and failing miserably. 'they leave nothing to the imagination baby, we can't be having that. nono,' he tuts, shaking his head and looking up at you disapprovingly. 'all those filthy boys in the office gawking at my girl, save it for the real man, the boss, yeah?' you feel yourself flush at his words, and all you can do is mumble out a vague 'yes' sound as your gaze wanders from his eyes to his lips and back again, almost like you're trying to memorise every detail in case he disappears.

'be good for me, darling,' he whispers, staring up at you like you're the messiah. 'mm, whatever you want,' you reply, tilting your head back as he starts running his hands up and down your body, squeezing your hips. you feel so small under his touch, acutely aware of how easy and effortless it is for him to hold so much power over you. he pulls at the fabric around your waist and you help him out by shoving the flimsy skirt down and kicking it off to the side somewhere, making his breath hitch in his throat.

without another word he lifts you up onto the desk. the cool wood touching your thighs sends a shiver up your spine, quickly being replaced by the warmth of his hands on your knees, spreading them apart without breaking eye contact. he's standing now, towering above your face and making you feel smaller than ever. 'you gonna help me out angel?'

you nod quickly, heart hammering in your chest and heat pulsing elsewhere. your thighs clamp around him, hips pushing towards the obvious bulge in his suit trousers. a condescending laugh echoes through the room. 'oh already? haven't even touched you yet and already you're fucking desperate for me,' he says, pulling your knees out from his waist. 'no, please, im just-' he cuts you off by grabbing the collar of your shirt and pushing his lips onto yours, unable to refrain from the way your voice wavers as you fall into subspace for him yet again.

the faint taste of your cherry lip balm makes him impossibly more turned on and his tongue presses into your mouth like he could just swallow you whole.

he unzips his trousers and you immediately reach out to touch him, desperate to help him, to feel him, regain some of that power, but as soon as your fingertips graze his stomach he swats your hand away and steps backwards. 'did I say you could touch me?' your head shakes of its own accord, and you whine in protest when he sits back down onto the office chair, leaving you exposed and helpless.

'you don't get to touch me or yourself. eyes on me, legs apart and keep them pretty hands behind your back unless I say, okay?' you sigh and breathe out a shaky 'okay', your head swimming at the thought of being there solely for his pleasure.

he grabs at his dick through the tight trousers and grunts at the relief. your eyes are trained on his hand, the way the veins push out as his fingers tighten around the clear outline. the way the silver band on his ring finger shines in the morning light.

you notice how his face is directly facing your cunt, drops of arousal spilling out and seeping into the baby pink cotton the longer he stares. it's getting harder and harder not to touch yourself, or him for that matter. especially when he lifts his hips and pulls down his trousers, letting them pool around his ankles. especially when he strokes along his length tantalisingly slowly, teasing the both of you. you're utterly fixated on the mouth-watering shape under the fabric, straining to be released.

he pushes his thumb under the waistband, momentarily denting the perfect shape of his rose tattoo. he moves them down, but only enough to free his cock. it's leaking already, red and angry and desperate and he groans at the feeling of the air hitting it.

'fuck, look what you do to me, love,' he says as he finally lets his hand wrap around his erection. your thighs twitch at his words.

he starts off slowly as usual. long, languid strokes as he drinks in your body in front of him, especially enraptured by the wet patch between your legs. you want nothing more than to wrap your mouth, your hand even, around him, help him feel good, but you're not in the mood of being punished today. instead you just let the coil in your stomach tighten with every little movement and sound that comes from him; let him render you an embarrassingly wet mess in front of his eyes.

you try your hardest not to squirm, not to give in and have him watch you disappointedly as you fuck yourself with your fingers selfishly, but good girls don't do that. you need to be everything he wants.

'lift up your shirt,' he huffs, teeth baring for a second as he pumps himself desperately. you oblige, gently hiking up the hem of your perfectly ironed white shirt and turning it into a vulgar sight as it touches your neck, revealing your chest to him, framed in pretty black lace that you always wear just for him.

'shit, my pretty little girl, fucking love those tits, all for me, aren't they?'

'all for you, no one else,' you reply, pushing them together and rubbing your fingers over your nipples in an attempt to ease some of the pressure inside you. you're so worked up that the simple action sends a jolt of electricity through you, making your back arch.

'what did I fucking say, leave your shirt up there, hands behind your back,' he spits. you inadvertently whimper as you obey him once again, catching the shirt under your armpits to keep it up above your tits as you place your hands back onto the hard wood behind you.

waves of humiliation crash over you at how bare you feel before him, and you have to look away for a second to regain composure.

your eyes flick to the gold rimmed photo on the wall and you can't help but wonder how long he's needed this. his appetite for you is seemingly insatiable at all times, despite the woman in white pictured next to him outside the chapel.

you're snapped out of your thoughts as a strangled groan leaves his chest. you look down and see his thumb swiping precum over the head of his cock. his hips start to buck upwards and he continues stroking up and down, faster now. you make a show of grinding up into the air as he stares at you with eyes clouded in lust. your pussy is throbbing, begging for anything, even a gust of wind, to soothe the ache that's worsening and worsening the longer you watch him getting himself off.

suddenly he stands up and comes towards you, eyebrows scrunched up in desire. he taps your jaw with one hand, the other continuing his unrelenting pace. you know the signal by now, and you open your mouth obligingly and let out a theatrical moan as he spits onto your tongue. seeing you swallow and grin devilishly up at him is what tips him over the edge.

'fuck- baby- come here,' a series of grunts falls from his lips as his chest heaves, fucking his fist hard and fast. he hooks a finger under the waistband of your underwear and pulls it outward, leaning forward so his tip is practically touching your abdomen. 'what...' you trail off, catching on to his plan as soon as spurts of cum start to dribble into your underwear, soaking and mixing into your slick.

'fucking hell,' he moans through shaky breaths. your breath catches in your throat, releasing a groan of pleasure as some of the warmth drips down and lands on your burning skin. he whimpers, eyes focused on your core and then rolling back into his head as he milks the last few drops out.

you can't help how quickly your hand goes to your aching bundle of nerves, desperate for more, hard contact, but he grabs a hold of your wrist before you get the chance. the glare he gives you makes you retract instantly, remembering his earlier orders. you lean back on your hands again reluctantly like a good girl, to please him.

he gives a satisfactory hum before gripping your neck, making you gasp and splutter with the force. even though he's a bit dazed and out of breath, the only thing that falters is his voice as he orders you around like his little plaything. 'you're gonna walk around with this pretty little cunt covered in me all day, right? come back to me at the end of the day and if you've been good I'll reward you,' as he speaks, he lets the elastic snap back against your hot skin and palms at your core through the soaked fabric. you nod and whine at the feeling of the warmth being pushed against you, the sticky mess spreading and mixing in an obscene concoction of lust, your head rolling back in ecstasy. it's wrong - so wrong - but you can't get enough.

'thank you sir,' you reply, your face burning up at the shame gnawing at the back of your mind. he rolls his eyes at how needy you look, not even 9am and you're already grinding against his hand, begging for anything he's willing to give you. 'pathetic,' he whispers, giving your cunt a light slap and dragging another sound from your lips. he slides his middle finger up his slit, collecting the milky remainder and shoves it in your mouth. he watches you moan in contentment as you lap it up, relishing in the salty taste and eventually releasing it with a pop.

without warning, all contact is lost and he's ordering you down off his desk to go back out to yours. you look up at the clock. fuck. 8:51. you scramble to get your skirt back on and fix yourself up as he pulls up his jeans with a smug look plastered on his face, throwing you a wink as he does up the zipper.

'enjoy your day sweetheart,' he smirks, grabbing your ass and pushing you out the door just before the first of your coworkers start to file into their respective cubicles. you check your reflection in a nearby computer screen to make sure you don't look as flustered as you feel, before sitting down. it's going to be a long day.

~

[velisle]

ᯓ♡ not maid for love .ᐟ

𖹭 ── 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 // nika x fem!reader, 2.8k wc, sfw. 𖹭 ── 𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 // pre-relationship, reader is (in denial) crown's fairytale keeper but not kate, nika being nika, likely ooc since there's only bread crumbs of his lore, al cameo, invented side characters, harassment from non-suitor, canon typical plot. 𖹭 ── 𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 // I wish cherry boy was as popular as his twin but sadly he isn't. So here's a little something i maid for him hehe (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠).

Twilight stains the sky in a messy palette of oranges, pinks and reds. Its rays spill into a certain room, enveloping it in its warmth. It goes on to veil the pure white walls, the ink splattered papers on the table, and — the soft profile of a person.

You nervously tug at the frilly hem of your apron, throwing quick glances toward the mirror and back at yourself. The reflected figure on the clear surface is donned in a maid’s attire from head to toe.

Sighing gently, you pull and tweak on its parts. From the lacy head-dress to the ends of the creamy bow tied behind your back, and to the concealed handgun on your garter belt. At last, you twirl around a bit, making sure there would be nothing amiss.

Still, immersed in your own thoughts, you fail to notice the pair of deep ocean eyes eagerly sinking you into its depths.

Your heart leaps through your chest when the sharp wolf whistle penetrates your ears. Head whiplashing, you glare at the culprit leaning against the doorframe. A cheeky grin from the dark-haired man welcomes you.

Nica.

The two of you have been going out on awfully many missions the past few months, courtesy of his white-clad leader, who proposed that both organizations should work together. Though you suspected foul hand to be at play from your Palace Reaper as well. Why else would you find yourself tied to the frivolous German each time?

“Where are your manners?” You cross your arms as you question, displeasure evident in your posture. A small chuckle escapes him, “My bad, Miss Robin.”

He taps his knuckles on the wooden material — twice, thrice — his rings clinking against it.

“So then, may I enter?”

Was he not practically inside already?

“Go ahead.”

Nica strolls in, turning to admire the delicate crystals of the chandelier and the brilliant gold that matched the otherwise pale room. Were you a stranger to his habit of unplanned visits, you would have thought it was his first time here.

Casting you a prolonged once-over as you button up your maid cuffs, he manspreads on the rich chesterfield, sprawling an arm over the top of it.

“Sure you can play your role well, cute Robin?”

“I think we should be worried about you instead, Clever.⁽¹⁾ Are you sure you'll be able to behave yourself?” You furrow your brows tensely.

The event you were going to attend was to last two days and three nights. Coupled with his charming penchant for going off script and improvising things by himself… You had a not-so-wonderful intuition that everything would eventually end up heading south.

He curves his lips impishly, visibly amused.

“Why wouldn’t I? I’ll be a good boy.”

“When pigs fly.”

“Autsch,⁽²⁾ after all the time we've spent together! I'm rather disappointed you still refuse to trust your partner in crime.”

You throw a glimpse at him from the corner of your eye. Not a tinge of sadness marred his features.

“There are,” you begin, “plenty of reasons as to why I shouldn't.”

A pervading silence follows as he falls unusually quiet. As if he were trying to figure out the convincing reason you had. The golden hour crowns him in its soft light, shadows fleeing from behind.

“Is it because I used my Curse on you before? I just couldn't help myself. We don't always have a choice, you know~”

You were not too fond of how you liked the way he drawled his words sometimes.

“Or maybe it's because I lent my hand for other uses? Buuut, I don't recall you telling me to stop,” his grin widens.

“Nica Schwartz.”

You swivel to face him, with a twitching smile and a raised nerve on your temple. The way he spoke had to be on purpose. Your mind inevitably flew into the direction he wanted.

Though you could not deny enjoying your banter with him. Few people manage to truly push your buttons — such as that cranky fairy or lascivious mirror, but never quite like the sly swan.

“Ja,⁽³⁾ Robin?” He asks in an innocent manner, which would be more befitting of his twin than himself.

“We’re running late,” you curtly state as you wrap your fingers around the handle of your leather-bound luggage. When you lifted it up, its weight dragged your hand down slightly.

You then make your way to the double doors, only to be stopped by blunt nails digging into your wrist. That and the coolness of adorned rings.

“Say, doesn't it look heavy for a little bird like you?” Nica had the sleeve of one arm rolled up, revealing the veins climbing on his skin like a vine.

“Sie könnten mich um Hilfe bitten.⁽⁴⁾”

It was not all that heavy, but who were you to refuse if he's so kind?

“Oof!”

A low, misty layer of fog covers the forest of oak trees. The wind wails a scream, tearing dead leaves from their spiny branches. One of them slams flat against the glass, which you were staring through.

Bump!

Every so often, the wheels of the crested carriage jolted when it collided with the rocks on the path. You fidget in the cushioned seat, annoyed at the feeling of polished boots digging into the side of your waist.

Much to your dismay, Nica thought it was apparently a good idea to stretch his legs in the already cramped space. This left you sandwiched between the wall and his lower limbs — and it was not the most splendid combination.

You travel a glance from the tip of his pristine shoes, to the river of white that ran across his trousers and vest, until you docked at the port of blue that was his eyes. If you stared hard enough, vague dark circles polluted the edge of the waters.

He must have been staying up late. Despite his slacking attitude, he knew when to take work seriously. Or rather, fool you into thinking you have the winning cards when he conceals a royal flush beneath his table.

“Am I that charming tonight?”

An abrupt question pulls you back from your shores to reality. He had caught you in his net. Biting your tongue lightly, you shift your attention to the scenery rolling past the window.

Poke!

Poke!

Nica nudges his foot against you.

“Robiiiin~”

“Stop,” you narrow your eyes in warning.

“Oh, this?”

Poke!

“Or thiiiis~?”

No words could describe the urge you felt to scuffle over and clasp your hand on his mouth. Tape it shut.

You steal a quick look at the smooth arch broadening on his face. It seemed to always dance on his lips. Rare were the instances you found it halting into a frown. Even then, it was likely feigned. Will all you ever see of him be his superficial side?

“What’s your pretty head thinking about now?” He doesn't move this time.

“The mission.” A lie.

“Nothing to fret about when you have me.”

“That’s if you don't get kidnapped first,” you retort. A surge of missing socialites is what drove Crown to investigate further into the case that could be human trafficking.

Oddly, the victims all had received an invitation to a banquet from the same organisation a week prior to their disappearance — Regal.

“Chances are that I could charm my way out of it, Robin. If not… Es wird für mich leichter sein, zu töten,⁽⁵⁾” Lazily tapping on the holster by his thigh, he flashes his pearly white teeth, as if it were a everyday situation for him.

Thump!

The landau stopped before the gates of the venue. Nica promptly sets down his legs, motioning his head towards the place, “Ladies first. I'll be joining you later.”

Upon entering the estate, you are greeted with a towering hallway of a golden hue; enormous paintings that cost more than money than you could ever make hanging on it.

You briefly peek into the open ballroom. Velvet curtains draped the windows, with ornate candelabras fixed to walls. The sound of violins and the piano flows into the room, but not many guests.

Your next stop should be servants’ quarters. Wooden baggage in hand, you saunter through the luxurious building, the layout of which you have memorized beforehand.

It was not hard to imagine someone could get lost here, given its size, you muse. Still, vanishing into thin air without any traces? A nigh impossible feat for anyone… Well, save for the curious Cheshire cat you knew.

“Oh!”

“Ah!”

Moments later, you unceremoniously crash into a petite figure while taking a turn around the corner. Vivid green, partly hidden behind a fringe of blond, widens as she stumbles on her heels.

“Sorry, I-” the two of you spoke at once. You pause awkwardly, waiting for her to continue.

“Don’t worry! I was in no hurry,” she steadies herself, a soft smile curving up the corners of her mouth. You take in her appearance — hair that cascaded down to her waist in thick drills, scattered freckles on her fair cheeks — and a surprisingly similar maid dress to your own?

“Wait, by any chance, are you new here?” a sparkle lit in her eyes at the realization as she too observed you and the case you carried. You nod your head, holding out your free hand, “Robin. Nice to meet you…?”

“Dahlia!” she shakes it with an extreme fervor. “The others and I have been talking a lot about you. Not in a bad way, uh I mean, it's rare for Regal to hire a new employee, so we were just really excited!”

It was the Queen's Aide who pulled some strings to let you enter as a maid, under the common alias Crown, and a certain Vogel member called you by. Strangely, you cannot recall a time where Nica called you by your real name.

Dahlia links her own arm with yours. “Come! I'll show you where the quarters are. And the rest of the place, but it'll have to wait until tomorrow. Oh, and maybe we can share a room?” She sings sweetly in a jovial tone.

She talks a lot; you note mentally.

After setting down your belongings, you head towards the grand ballroom where the gathering was held. A massive chandelier hung in the center of the vaulted ceiling, illuminating the horde of perfumed bodies.

The billowing, silky skirts of noblewomen graze your body as you shuffle in between them, clutching a tray with both hands. Bubbles pop off in the champagne flutes on it.

“It is rumored Count Fitzwilliam is looking for a bride…”

“Have you heard about what Lady Spencer did during the last outing…”

Conversations, both hushed and outspoken, were easily heard by you. The aristocrats paid no attention to a mere maid after all.

“They say we have an ambassador from another country here tonight,” a faint whisper makes you perk up your ears. “Whom?” another person inquired.

You concentrate on their words, feeling your heart pound faster for an inexplicable reason. It must be the adrenaline from trying to not come off as suspicious.

“I don't know his name, but they say he's German.”

“Did you get to see him?”

“From afar, yes…”

Pat!

You felt a sudden, foreign touch on your shoulder — not in a good way. It made the hairs on your nape rise warily.

“Why, hello there, lass…” A harsh, gruff voice.

Standing behind you was a man with wrinkly, creased skin and a head bald. Except for the auburn patches groomed evenly. He was dressed to the nines. A high born no doubt.

“Can I help you, sir?” you ask politely, despite how you felt uncomfortable in his presence.

“Such supple skin and bewitching body you have,” crooked fingers caress your hand, which grips tighter onto the tray. Mild irritation growing into a flame simmers in your eyes, “Excuse me?”

“You poor thing, all alone… I could help you become less lonely,” the invading touch slowly crawls up your arm.

Who did he think he was? Drawing in a sharp inhale, you grit your teeth, “Leave me alone. Or else.”

“Don’t you mean… pretty please?”

“—Master!!”

He paused mid sentence as a call interrupted him. With a dissatisfied huff, he grabs the stem of the last glass you carried, withdrawing from your side. You release a sigh of relief at his departure, scanning the crowd for who could have called him.

Familiar, curly locks of gold appear in your vision.

The night deepens, and the sea of people is still flooding the place. An ache struck your back and feet from how long you stood to distribute the drinks.

Unfortunately, your attempt at intel gathering has not been particularly fruitful so far. Most chatters were full of gossip and the latest trends.

But you did learn of one thing: apart from the revelry at night, Regal also held exclusive activities to engage in during the day. You reckoned it was a technique to make more visitors pay for a room and stay until the event is fully over.

Wondering if you should rendezvous with Nica about this, you try to search for his tall figure in the crowd. In spite of all the buzz surrounding the philanderer, you had not once seen him. Perhaps you were too absorbed into your task to properly notice him, or he passed by you without a single comment.

“—Mr. Schwartz! Mr. Schwartz!!”

Think of the devil. There he was. You catch a bevy of young noble women and men flocking to him. The sight of his usual disarrayed jacket was absent. Instead, it was worn snuggly on his well-built frame.

“Say, are you truly not free tonight?” A lady coyly twirls her hair around her finger with her strawberry lips stuck out in a pout.

Another one cooled themselves quickly with their hand fan facing up, “I’d love to dance with you~”

“Here, my trade card. You are free to drop a visit to my shop any time you want! I'll even give you a ten percent discount!”

It was apparent he was no short of desperate admirers. You tap your shoe on the hardwood floor softly, thinking about what your next course of action should be.

You could always meet up with him later, and there is still a floor you have not yet searched for clues: upstairs. Since everyone else was down here…

Fwoosh!

Startled by the sensation of a warm breath being blown into your ear, you scramble to grab your flailing tray. Your train of thought had been forced to halt. Again. At least there were no remaining glasses.

“My, my,” A rich, teasing tone. And you knew exactly who it belonged to this time.

“Alfons!!”

“One could easily get the wrong idea if you call my name out so passionately, Miss Robin. Especially... Your partner tonight.”

“He’s not sharing a Curse with Roger, Al.”

“If you will, please refrain from uttering that brute’s name next to mine. It is truly something out of a nightmare to hear.”

The manner in which he shook his head with a distressed expression — it was as if there could not be an ordeal more mortifying for him.

“Should I even ask what you're doing here?” To be fair, it was not entirely shocking for him to be here. Though, Victor did not mention he would be assigned to this mission…

“Here’s a better question. Don't you just feel yourself greening with envy by how they're fawning over him?” Alfons shifts closer, nearly touching heads with you as you both gaze at the star of tonight's banquet.

“Of course not!” Right then, Nica’s eyes meet yours. As if he really heard what you said. Air catches in your throat as a familiar, conceited smirk is formed on him.

“Don’t be mistaken. I wouldn't... ever like him,” you subconsciously clutch at your dress with one hand, crumpling up the delicate fabric. You were sure that he wouldn't come to like you either. You would nip any attraction towards him in the bud before it would ever have a chance to bloom.

Alfons clicks his tongue. “I would advise you to make wiser choices — but then again, the little robin who brought water for the sinners in hell was not so clever either.”

You lift your face to glare back at him, intending to rebuke. When you did, the space next to you was empty. Gone like the illusionary phantom he was. Or was he there in the first place?

What a shame. If only you had paid a little more attention to the black swan. You would have spotted how his smile faltered upon seeing that raven head with you.

𖹭 ── 𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒉 // notes + tl. cross-checked with multiple translators, but if you think that it could be corrected or further improved please let me know!

1. LINE chat reference

2. Autsch ➛ ouch

3. Ja ➛ yes

4. Sie könnten mich um Hilfe bitten ➛ you could ask me for help

5. Es wird für mich leichter sein, zu töten ➛ it will be easier for me to kill

𖹭 ── 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒑𝒕 //

and that's the end of part 1! to be honest, i think i will be putting this on hold, since I feel that my skills have not caught up yet with this kind of plot-heavy fic.

feedback would be greatly appreciated so that I can improve my writing! I still have a lot to learn.

[satorubrain]

Hey I heard you are taking requests what if “Gojo gets jealous cause reader getting hit on by someone TALLER than him” <333

Hydrangeas.

Pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader.

Tags: Fluff, jealousy.

Synopsis: Stupid baby is late to your date and then he gets jealous.

A/N: ANON THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA I HAVE BEEN DYING TO WRITE THIS SINCE THE MOMENT I SAW THE REQUEST ITS SO YUM I LOVE JEALOUS AND A LIL BUTTHURT GOJO

It was the hydrangea season, which was also one of your favorite flowers. Making it an excellent idea to ask you out on a date.

Wanting to stun him with your looks you decided to wear a bluish-lavender flowy dress, adorned with bows and laces around your waist and neckline, shoulder straps made of pearls exposing your shoulders, and a choker of the same pattern that came with the dress. Oh, how ethereal you looked right now.

Though you dolled up for your lovely boyfriend who has been half an hour late, people couldn't help but turn their heads to take a glance at you. Some were even brave enough to come up to you and ask for your number. You immediately rejected everyone's advances while waiting for Gojo, standing in the heat of the sun- until a man, a tall one at that decided to tower over you, blocking the sun's rays. You couldn't be more thankful to him, letting out a relieved sigh.

"What's a pretty lady doing here all alone? No way should someone dare to stand you? That too in such heat, that's quite cruel" He sighed. "But are you feeling better now?" He inquired, smiling gently.

Oh, he was quite a gentleman, nice and well-spoken. His tone would charm any person, easing their worries. And that's what it did to you. The heat had already cooked your brain with Satoru nowhere to be found, no texts received from him nor were you able to reach him. But you were thankful to the stranger for accompanying you- which stopped people from asking about you.

You were lost in your thoughts when you felt a tap on your shoulder. "Are you alright?" The stranger questioned, worried.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine! Thank you." You answered politely, not willing to further the conversation any longer which might lead to misunderstandings between you and your boyfriend but that didn't stop the stranger from talking to you.

As another half an hour passed by you were laughing with the stranger about some random things, him suggesting places to visit- creating a perfect picture of a couple having their cute little conversation.

This was bad, as Satoru overheard people talking about a couple while heading toward you. Fastening his steps to rush toward the entrance he sees you along with some random man. He was visibly annoyed. Not at you but at the man, he saw you maintain the distance but also saw how he made you laugh, how he stared at you fondly and realized how badly that random guy wants to steal his ethereal oblivious woman from him. Gojo wanted to stay calm but right now his heart was being twisted, the pang in his chest worsening every moment thinking how he was already so late for a date he planned.

And suddenly Gojo was beside you, pulling you into his chest by your waist standing in between the guy and you.

"Hello, my stunning lady, I'm sorry you had to wait for me" he complimented you before trying to kiss you, which you swatted away.

"Why. Are. You. So. Late." You glared at him before turning to the guy who visibly hovered over Satoru as well. Which quite surprised you. 'tall' you thought to yourself before collecting your thoughts together. "Thank you for accompanying me today, it was nice meeting you." you slightly bowed as a sign of respect and wishing him a goodbye.

"Yeah thanks but you can lea-" Before Satoru could finish his cold sentence, he was cut off and ignored.

"It was nice meeting you too, how about we meet later for a coffee? We can be good friends I think" the man suggested. This took you and Satoru both by surprise. You were amazed by the guy whereas Satoru was aggravated by his arrogance.

"Did your brain stop working and perhaps made you blind as well? Did you just ask my girlfriend for a date in front of me? Do you perhaps have a death wish?" Gojo's tone was sharp. He was barely holding himself back and to make it all worse he had to tilt his head higher than he would've normally had to. Satoru loved how he hovered over the most but this time his pride took a huge blow when this random guy flirted with his woman while ignoring him and towering over him.

"Well, then you clearly aren't doing a good job at being a boyfriend. Making your pretty girlfriend wait for at least an hour then you start being rude to people who help her? Seems a little...." He retorts.

It's almost as if Gojo is stabbed in the heart and if anything, he'd look like he's making excuses for his mistreatment toward you.

"Alright, that's enough. I'm thankful to you for tagging along with me but please I'd rather you not be disrespectful to my boyfriend" You cut them off, not wanting to escalate the issue any further and drag Gojo inside the park finally starting your awaited date. It doesn't help how he also entered the park with you guys before you soon went on different paths.

Satoru soon reverts to his old self, cracking up jokes, telling you the random fun facts you love while grinning proudly with you at his side and showering you with endless compliments. But you also notice how he's a lil extra close and how he is even more talkative today, almost as if he's overcompensating. You know him all too well and know how he's feeling quite awful. You know behind that overly confident person is your Satoru who, like any other human has ordinary feelings.

You are both seated on a bench enjoying your ice cream, speaking seriously once you both finish eating "Uhm, I'm sorry for being late. It is solely my fault and then they also called me up for an emergency- so yeah, but I promise I'll make it up" He looks at you with eyes pleading for forgiveness, slightly overthinking the entire ordeal.

"Satoru, it's fine, I realized that the moment I saw you, okay?" You comfort him by pulling him into a hug "But next time inform me alright? I'll be there to help you out!!"

You feel his shoulders relax a bit as he pulls away before gently cupping your cheek and kissing you softly with his other arm wrapped around your waist.

"You know that I love you the most, right?" He confesses sincerely, pure words from the bottom of his heart.

"Mn. And I love you too Satoru" You replied earnestly. "By the way, Satoru. Y'know you should've just started levitating while doing a T-post to assert your dominance over that guy" You joke around, giggling "Imagine. How that would've scared him" you continue successfully eliciting a genuine laugh from Gojo, a pleasant sound to your ears.

Gojo inhales sharply through his teeth. "Tsk. I really should've done that. Even better! maybe I'll pick you up and kiss you in front of everyone" he giggled. His worries are now long forgotten.

Except whenever he sees the man- around a stall or walking by, much to your embarrassment. Gojo does lift you in his arms in front of everyone before kissing you. The gesture announces to everyone that you both belong to each other.

"You're annoying" You giggle wrapping arms around his neck.

"Is that so? I fail to see that you're annoyed" He retorts as he shushes you before you say anything, with his lips.

I FEEL LIKE I KINDA WENT OVERBOARD BUT I HOPE U LIKE IT.

[REQUESTS ARE OPEN]

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Shiver Me Timbers! (18+)

pairing: pirate captain!seungcheol x siren!reader

genre: fantasy au, smut, pure smut with a fair amount of plot imo (MNDI pls), a little angst at the end

description: as seungcheol's ship drags up the shore, you watch from afar, eyes on the prize

warnings: PIRATE DIRTY TALK HELP, SLIGHT DUBCON bc hes u know a little under her spell, unrealistic ass transformation from fish 2 person, desperation, big dumb whiny cheol, bottom!cheol, kinda switch!reader, teasing, tiddie play, tiddie sucking, fairly graphic character death (drowning), seungcheol fucks yn like a ragdoll hihi, hes still bottom here tho, yn just has her tiddies OUT #progressive #2023

quotes from my proofreader: "I WAS WET!!", "he is soooo silly and sexy"

wordcount: 3.0k

“Anchor comin’ down!” 

“Aye!” 

There’s a mighty splash when the rusty anchor collides with the surface of the water. The chain clinks as it plummets, until it’s kicking up a storm on the sandy seafloor and the ship is safely secured. The Barbaric Seventeen is rocking like a mother rocks her young, gently swinging from the onslaught of waves from the North. 

“Another safe map-navigation performed by the great Woozi!” Seungcheol speaks from where he’s perched on the head of the ship, one knee bent to sit his foot atop the wooden railing. He’s half bathed in sunlight, hot from the scorching sun over the endless sea. The shipmates clap and cheer, the odd clunk joining the cacophony from the members with missing hands. “Now go!” he commands, “Go find me my treasure, boys! It shan’t be much of a challenge for ye’s anyway!” 

“Ye’s not comin’, Captain?” Mingyu calls from where the lot of them are crowding the planked deck, eyes squinted to stare at his silhouette in the sun. Seungcheol’s hat rustles as he shakes his head. “Naye, brother Mingyu. Today I will guard the Barbaric Seventeen,” he answers and pats the wooden railing like a dog.

The crewmates bugger off, one large group padding along the coast with their hooks and their scars and their swords in their belts. 

“Don’t be tempted by pretty ladies out here, brother Jun!” Seokmin advises, gloomily. “There be sirens in these waters!” 

“Don’t scare the kid, brother Seokmin,” Wonwoo snaps, standing on the other side of Jun, who looks at the two of them, lost and a little scared. “Sirens aren’t real.” 

“Tell that to Jeremy!” Seokmin retorts, “RIP.” And then their voices are fading into the distance.

Seungcheol hardly notices their conversation, as he’s placed himself on a gathering of finely-churned sand, squinting into the sun-lit sea from the shadow of his Captain’s hat. His jacket, much too warm for the every beating rays above, has been discarded beside him, and now his chest peeks through a thin, muddied white shirt. Forever enchanted by the gentle breathing, the rise and fall of the sea, he’s quick to see you. 

At first it’s simply a diamond-glisten under the surface of the water - Seungcheol knew the shine of gems, knew the way they reflected and captured the light - he half-sits up, biceps flexing as he peers in. Then, he catches the movement of something long and blue and scaly. The coasting water kisses his bare feet. 

You’re smiling in the water, long, flowing hair like seaweed in the ever-turning tides. You’d spotted the ship miles back, and had followed discreetly under it. Now there’s a man alone on the shore, and you’re splashing your tail teasingly above the surface of the water, soft, rhythmic taps, beckoning him closer. Then you open your mouth and begin to sing.

Seungcheol’s stumbling to his knees, crawling on the sand. There’s a beautiful, intoxicating hum coming from the seafloor and he must, he must hear it for himself. Crawling until the water is reaching his chest, you finally strike. 

Your head bursts from the water, splashing salty liquid onto the man, who’s gaping at the soft tunes from your ruby lips. You’re pushing your sopping hair back, eyes falling on him, sitting back on his knees now. You giggle, humming gently, when you lean into him. His eyes catch a diamond around your neck - the one he’d seen under the sloping water.

You’re the most beautiful woman - woman? - he’s even seen, and your chest is bare and glistening wet in the sunlight, and your cheeks are red and eyes sly. You’re leaning into him, hand brushing over his sculpted chest, poorly hidden from the soaked shirt, and you smell like the sea - you smell like home. 

“Hi there,” you giggle, biting your lip at him. He’s so befuddled by you, he lets out a strangled moan at just the sight of you, before he’s recollecting himself.

“Hi,” he breathes, awestruck. He’s almost cute, you think, hip jutting into the wet sand beneath you. His eyes - unfortunately - sway downwards to your tail, and his eyebrows are furrowing. Wait a minute, he thinks, was this not what Seokmin was just talking about? “What are ye’s?” he asks, because something in his body is oozing fear, filling him like water cascades into a drowning man, and the spell is broken. 

For an instant. 

You see it immediately, the way the adoration leaves his eyes, and something reminiscent of disgust overtakes him at your fishy parts. Thinking fast, you grab his bigger hand in your own and press it to your chest. “Oh,” he breathes, flushing, and he’s looking at your chest, and the way it expands when you heave a breath to sing for him. 

A song flows from your lungs and dances in circles around Seungcheol’s head. He can’t even remember what he was thinking about before, just feels his dick harden in his pants. Dazed and confused, the only thing grounding him is his hand, frozen on your chest and covered by your own. You smile, because he’s opening up to you like the shell of a clam.

“I’m a mermaid, silly. Don’t you want to touch me?” you whisper teasingly, emphasizing by shaking your chest and letting your tits jiggle right in front of him. He whimpers and nods, and you eye the hard-on in his lap, big and stretching the fabric of the pants to their limit. You look around, eyes catching the rock-quarry at the end of the beach, but seeing no one nearby. Then, you clumsily stretch yourself from your heavy, heavy tail, hand fondling him through the fabric. “You gotta pull me up,” you command, voice strained from the movement, and humid breath hitting his lips. He’s hissing and bucking into your hand, unable to comprehend your request.

“What?” he whines, panting and looking at your lips. Your tail is heavy as an anchor when on land, and the position is killing your back, so squeeze his chin between your fingers and grit your teeth at him. “Pull me onto land.” 

He’s nodding dumbly and without even an ounce of effort, he grabs you by your waist and pushes the two of you onto dry sand. You’re immediately covered in a salve of small sand particles and moaning, really moaning, because this man is so big and strong, but so dumb, he had no trouble lifting you all the way onto land. 

As soon as you’re out of the water, the diamond around your neck is glowing, turning hot against your collarbones, and Seungcheol is groaning, squeezing his eyes shut and holding a hand to shield himself from its intensity. 

It stops, he sees the back of his eyelids darken and peeks open one eye, unable to help the little gasp that escapes him. You’re lying on your stomach in front of him and your tail is gone, replaced with soft human legs. Without a thought, he reaches over to touch the skin of your slippery wet new legs. You giggled at his dumbfounded expression, when his hand glides up from your thigh and squeezes your ass. 

“You like it?” you chirp, and he chuckles breathlessly. “Aye.” 

You push at him, crawling into his lap, all naked and soft and ready for him, hands on his chest, soothing the muscles. “That’s why we needed to be on land, silly.” You smile at him, sitting completely still in his lap, where your pussy is pressed into his crotch, and you’re nonchalantly, he feels foolish for being so beet-faced and nervous. “Well?” you begin, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “take off your clothes, dumbo!” 

At your whim, he’s scrambling underneath you, shirt practically ripping, as he tears it off. His chest is so, so pretty - pale and defined and expanding into your hands. You watch him struggle with a fond smile, as you sit completely still on his crotch, even when he’s pulling his pants off. Your weight makes it damn near impossible to shimmy off. He doesn’t dare tell you to move though. Seungcheol feels like the luckiest man in the world, because your pussy is leaking onto his pants. Miraculously, he escapes the garments, and he looks up at you with a proud grin, as if he’d passed some sort of test.

“You did so well,” you coo, hand caressing his cheek and eyes shining in adoration when he nuzzles into your hand. Then your gaze drops. His cock is fucking huge and fucking red and pouring precum from the tip, oozing like blood from wound. “Let me reward you,” you whisper, satisfied when he whines and nods.

You press your thighs into his, hard, so he’s spreading his legs, a sprawled out starfish on a quarry-rock. You see his stomach tense at that, and he’s groaning. “Please, please, please.” 

“Y/n. Grab my boobs.”

His hands find your tits immediately at your request, thumbs pressing into the areolas.

“Please, please, please, Y/n!” he’s yelling because it’s torture, and he’s throwing his head back to call out to God. But you’re the mightiest being present, and you push yourself up to teasingly run his cock through your folds, over and over, humming to the melody of your sticky pussy kissing his cock. “Please,” he cries. 

“I don’t know,” you hum, rubbing yourself carelessly against his achingly hard cock. “I kind of like just this? Don’t you like this?” 

“In, in, in!” he’s sobbing, arms flexing where they’re stretched out to hold your soft mounds, clinging to them for dear life. “Oh,” your voice is laced with fake sympathy, “Oh, you want in?” 

“Please,” he gasps. You shrug in compliance, “Okay.” 

Finally you pause your grinding, stopping his cock at once when you feel it, the sticky head of it creating tension at your slit. You sink down. Then you stop. The head of his cock is nuzzled in your warmth  and you’re flexing your thighs to keep yourself on top of him. 

“No, no, no!” he cries, bucking his hips upwards and shaking from the frustration, when your hand pushes his abdomen down. You pout: “I thought this was what you wanted? Are you not in?” 

Usually, you can get away with fucking around with men in this manner, but it seems this time you’ve thoroughly miscalculated: In what felt like a split second, Seungcheol sits upright and removes his hands from your chest, anchoring them on your hips and bouncing you.

He’s pushing you down on his cock, and this time you’re the one crying out, utterly taken aback when, with seemingly no effort at all, he lifts your entire body weight and slams you down again. 

He’s grunting and panting, completely enchanted by your body and your pretty moans. He grunts at the way your perfect pussy chokes his cock. You’re no better. You’ve lost all control of the situation, slipping into a cockdrunk haze and crying out again and again at the way his tip kisses your cervix. 

“Beautiful, such a pretty girl, aye? Squeezin’ me cock so tight,” he grunts, and all you can do is cry, burying your head in the crook of his neck and kissing it feebly. “Mhm, ye better treat me nice next time? Hmm?” His voice is deep and baritone against the shell of your ear. 

Your clit is like the x’ed out treasure on one of Seungcheol’s maps, when he snakes his hand down your soft body to rub it in messy circles. “Prettiest moans me ever heard. Say me name, sweetcheeks, say Seungcheol,” he commands and you can only comply, orgasm fizzing in your stomach at his constant onslaught. 

“Seungcheol, Seungcheol, Seungcheol!” you chant as you cum, cunt squeezing his cock like you were trying to kill him. The image of your scrunched up, blissed out face and your pussy creaming on his shaft, has he himself cumming inside you, painting your walls with cum, white like seafoam. He’s rutting into you for a few last pumps, and crying into the valley of your breasts. Despite the sun burning into the skin of your back, you’re certain you see stars. 

You’re breathing each other in, foreheads pressed together as you recover and smelling the stench of salt and vigor. Seungcheol is still enchanted by you, your beauty, your voice, and he’s trying to capture your lips in a kiss, when you snap your head, almost startled, and peering out to a quarry of rocks at the end of the beach. Seungcheol is still feigning for your lips, thumbs rubbing circles in your waist, when he asks you: “Are ye okay? Ye hear sumthin?” 

“No,” you breathed, hesitantly ripping your eyes from the rock. You smile at him, and he leans in and you let him, but only for a peck. You’re pulling away, even when he chases your lips and whines. You giggle, suddenly slipping his dick out of you and laughing even harder when he bends over from the sensitivity. 

“Come back, Y/n,” he cries softly and you’re falling standing up in the sand, just in front of the water, beautiful and stark naked and glowing in the sun. “You come to me,” you tease, but without hesitation Seungcheol scrambles to his feet to follow after you. He stops when he’s standing right in front of you again, eyes big and soulful and full of so much love for you. “I’m here,” he announces in a whisper.

“Come with me into the sea, Seungcheol,” you pout and bite your lip at him. “I can’t be here.” 

“But-” 

“No! It’s not safe up here. I have to go back in the water,” you make big eyes and run a hand up his big, muscular arm. “But you can come with.. My necklace can turn you into a mermaid, too..”

“Really?” he whispers, grabbing your hands and squeezing tight, simply overjoyed. He’s too dazed from his orgasm to realize what you’re asking him to leave behind. All he wants is you. You intertwine your fingers with his. 

“Yeah,” you take a step back into the white foaming water, and once again your necklace begins glowing, so intense that Seungcheol once more has to close his eyes. 

When they open again you’re lying in the water, still mostly out of it, and your bottom half is gone, replaced by the glittering scaly tail he saw before. You were so plump, so pretty, the way your tits bunched up in the sand.

“Help me, Seungcheol, push me into the water again,” you request weakly, arms flexing as you try to unstuck yourself from the sand that grabs at your heavy tail. “When will you turn me into a mermaid?” he asks innocently, leaning down to help drag you, still stark naked and pale body glowing in the sun. “Just- just when I’m back in the water,” you mewl, strained.

When you stop feeling the seafloor drag against your sensitive tail, you tug Seungcheol to you harshly. He falls next to you, panicked. “H-Hey!” 

He’s only gone under the surface for a moment, before he bops his head over the water, black hair sticking to his forehead. Spitting out the salty liquid, pouting. “That was mean,” he complains, treading in the shallow water. You giggle, thriving in the cool slick of the sea, having missed the way the water hugs you, how it caresses and kisses and loves. That was why you needed to pay it back. 

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” you pout. “C’mere. Let me make it up to you.”

Seungcheol paddles himself into you and you hold him into your chest, his nose and eyelashes prodding softly at your skin. You sigh when he begins licking at the smooth skin, hands pawing your waist. 

“It’s such a shame,” you frown, looking at how pretty he is, as his plump, pink lips mouth at your nipple, lashes long and pretty over his downturned eyes. He hums questioningly, not stopping his ministrations on your chest. One moment you’re gently pulling the wetted dark locks behind his ear; the next you’re fastening your arms around him, and kicking your tail.

You’re underwater. Seungcheol flinches at the initial movement, then begins thrashing in your arms, when he registers that you’re underwater. You’re ignoring how painful, how strong his hands are when he punches and wriggles in your hold, only swimming deeper, deeper, deeper. The sunlight above, fragmented from the waves surface of the water becomes sparser. 

He’s even paler in the dark. You see him perfectly clear, tugging and kicking. Maybe there’s even a small hope in his chest - a hope, that this is just a little joke, and that just a moment from now, you’ll grab him by the hand and pull him back to the surface. That moment doesn’t come. Everytime he tries to push himself up, your hand is there to keep him down. 

It feels like forever, and it’s more painful than any other time you’ve done it. He’s humming groans from the lack of air and when he finally gives out to gasp for air, he chokes out the most haunting noise you’ve ever heard, bubbles trailing up from his newly-dead corpse. Finally he’s still against your chest. You pull him away with a deep frown and see his face, fully relaxed now and drained of color. You hold onto him by his shoulders, hoping to memorize his face, hoping to remember him. 

Then you’re releasing him and he floats downwards, hair dragging upwards, almost as if reaching for you. 

He’s just another rock in the sand, you try to tell yourself, as his body is cast away to the deepest, darkest quarters of the ocean. But it doesn’t feel that way. As you swim away, humming your siren song and reverberating in the dark, bottomless depths, you can’t help but feel that this time, your victim was not just a sandcorn; he was a bright, shining pearl. 

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Don't Leave Me! | Yandere Yuri Briar

“Oh, Yuri! I’m so happy you could come!”

Yuri blushed as he returned the hug from his sister; excited to finally see her. Unconsciously he let his eyes look past his sister’s neck, closing when he saw the familiar faces of Loid and Anya. What was this feeling? Disappointment? Disappointment from what? Yuri Briar shook his head, following after his sister who happily led him inside. Every now and then he let his eyes wander, searching fruitlessly for something unknown. He stopped when Yor cutely tilted her head out of curiosity. Yuri blushes walking deeper into his sister’s home. 

“Unkie!” He dodged the child intent on securing his seat next to Yor at the dinner table. 

“I’m glad you can spend this evening with us, Yuri.” Loid spoke with that annoying smile of his spread across his face. Resisting the urge to gag, Yuri turned away crimson eyes landing on the door. Hearing the angelic giggling of his sister right near his ear.

“Oh Yuri, are you looking for someone?”

“WhAt!? Pftt No! Why WOulD I?!” 

The secret policeman spoke louder than he meant to; he began blushing even harder as he realized everyone was looking at him. He shrunk in on himself allowing Loid and Yor to begin passing around the dishes that smelled delicious. Some of these included Yor’s stew which Yuri happily dug into first. Of course, (Y/n) wouldn’t be here…they were a nanny…

The sound of knocking filled the apartment home making Yuri perk up. With a teasing smile, Yor rose from her chair and headed for the door.

“Well, I wonder who that could be?”

The door opened and in rays of shining light revealed the most wanted person of the night. 

“Guess who’s here!?”

“(YYY/nn)!!”

“Borf!” 

Anya and Bond ambushed your knees and waist as they dragged you into the Forger. Shutting the door behind you Yor also gave you a hug from behind further making you stagger your way into the home. They didn’t let up until Loid gave a firm look as he came to take the dish you brought from you. Reluctantly they released their hold on you as they made their way to the dinner table where Yuri was still gawking at your entrance. You sent a thankful look to Loid before following Anya to the place setting she had set for you, right next to Yuri. 

“Well hello again, stranger? How’ve you been?”

“S-stranger? I-I was sure your memory would be better.” An offended bubble appeared in his chest as he crossed his arms. Only for you to tilt your head, immediately confusing him. 

“It’s just an expression, man.”

“O-oh…” 

He blushed in embarrassment deciding to pick at his food as he mulled over his incompetence. Was he so out of it that he embarrassed himself over a simple question? You were so close he could smell your natural scent! And you could see his face, his blush at this distance! Before he could let himself fall into a silent mania he was broken out by the softness against his clenching fist. The hand that rested on his led to (Y/n), whose eyes were soft and smile light andshiningbright as you whispered to him.

“Hey, it's okay don’t worry about it.”

That was all you said before you retracted your hand to assist in your pursuit to eat, turning towards Anya who was animatedly talking to you about her latest mission. A haze of red fell over his cheeks and Yuri let his mind wander. Throughout the dinner, he could only nod as Yor tapped him for his attention. Instead opting to lightly pick at his food and watch as you laughed with the whole family.

____________________________________________________________

“Alright well, I should get going.” You spoke while stretching out, having your fill of Loid’s delicious desserts and enough wine for the night.

Immediately the room was filled with ‘awws’ and whining from the Forger family; who were either intoxicated or tiredly clinging onto you as the night deepened. Both Yor and Anya held tight, forcing you to sink back into the couch to save the integrity of your shirt. You looked to Loid who chuckled at the two before turning to Yuri who was drunkenly letting his lips wobble at the sign of you leaving. 

“D-don’t leave.”

The words were quiet but the unshed tears bubbling in his blood-red eyes had both you and Loid sighing in unison. 

“I guess after we put them to bed… maybe then I can–”

“Yes. Thank you, (Y/n).” 

With great difficulty, you carried Anya off to bed while Loid occupied Yor who enthusiastically began raving about something to him. Finally returning from Anya’s room you only heard an inkling of a promise being made to Yor that had her heading straight to bed. Not before placing a red lip staining kiss on your cheek and ditzely waving off to bed. Returning to the living room you found Loid worriedly looking at Yuri who stayed planted in his seat. 

“What’s wrong with him?” You directed it towards Loid but the drunk spoke on his own.

“-home with…me”

“What?”

“T-take me home. I-it’s its THE LEAST YOU COUDLD DO…after all you’ve done!” 

You deadpanned at the misleading accusation before breaking out into laughter. You had half a mind to record but Loid’s icy stare had you coughing instead. 

“I-I guess I’ll take him home then. Wouldn’t want him waking up Yor or Anya.”

Loid hesitated for a bit before dashingly running his hands through his hair as he sighed. 

“Yes, that would be for the best. Though I wouldn’t want you running around when its so dark out. I’d prefer it if you stayed with us…”

“But you hardly have enough room with the both of us staying here,” You easily grabbed the Briar’s hand. “So I’ll take him now. See you later, Loid!” 

Pulling the complacent male along you waved to the blond before heading out the door. For the next hour you wrestled with a drunk Yuri who was insistent on pinching your ears and cheeks while you tried to locate his wallet. Even as he allowed you tug him along he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of you. Light pulls at your jacket, your waist band, the collar of your shirt, it was an ongoing struggle with him; you were just grateful no one was out at this hour. 

“Ah! Here.We. Are!” 

With great effort you shoved Yuri into his bed, silently priding yourself on successfully delivering the man. Turning to leave you halted when you heard frantic noises muffled by the mattress he was faced down in. You turned back to him bending in his direction to hear better only for a hand to reach out and you pull you onto the bed. 

“Stay.” 

The command wasn’t unfamiliar. He had been uttering similar phrases all through out the journey home so you thought nothing of it. That is until you couldn’t wrench yourself from the grip he had around your body. 

“Heheh this must be the power of a Briar, huh?” Sarcastically uttering into the empty space of his apartment. You experienced it before and had ended in many a situation like this but Loid would usually come to the rescue. But alas he was not here and you were beginning to feel the drowsiness that came with a hearty feast. 

“Fine…I’ll stay…just for c’ple h’rs thats it.”

Smiling in his sleep Yuri nuzzled further into your neck, sleeping soundly with the constant aroma of your scent. That would be the first night of many for what, Yuri considered, to be the perfect sleep.

Optional First

[lillian-gallows]

Kinktober Day 7: Shower Sex with Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Pairing: Johnny "Soap" MacTavish X Fem!Reader Word Count: 2091 Warnings: Shower sex, Oral (F Receiving), P in V sex, Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), Kinda fluffy, Laughing during sex, They are really really in love.

Kinktober 2024 Master(sub)list.

Minors DNI

The sound of the door closing was all you needed to make the show you'd been watching a distant thought, now too busy sprinting to greet your soldier.

Your Johnny.

This wasn't a special homecoming; he's been home from deployment for a couple months now. He was returning from his morning run, sweaty and a little short of breath.

It was always cute how he would go from Mr. Serious Face to a ray of smiley sunshine the moment his eyes landed on you, and this time was no different.

"Good morning, Bonny." He greeted as you approached, all but throwing yourself at him, not a care in the world for how sweaty he is, you rather liked it, the way the scent would cling to you when you let go.

"Good morning, Love." You cooed right back, arms wrapped around his torso as his did the same to you. "How was your run?" You asked, noting that the sky was grey, and it looked like it might rain.

"Chilly, Autumn seems to have arrived." He answered, his accent rolling over the words.

"Finally, took it long enough." You huffed, only half joking. "Still worked up a good sweat." You noted, knowing what his next course of action would be as his sweet smile turned salacious.

"Yeah? I should go take a shower then, aye?" He asked, his arms unwrapping from you as if he intended to walk away.

"Oh yeah, you really reek." You teased before pressing your nose to his chest and taking a big whiff of his unfiltered musk. "Pee-eew!" Your voice was muffled, and it pulled a guffaw from the Scotsman.

"Ah, c'mere you!" He said as he scooped you up over his shoulder, laying a smack to your ass as he started for the bathroom, your own excited giggling filling the narrow hallway as he went.

The bathroom light was already on when he lightly kicked the door open, finding that you'd already set out a clean set of clothes for both of you and fresh towels in a heap, an indicator that you'd warmed them in the dryer.

"You cheeky little minx." He teased, shaking his head like he couldn't believe how lucky he was.

Before you could respond with a quip, he had you back on your feet only to then pull you to his chest, calloused hands cradling your face as he claims your lips with his in a, frankly filthy, kiss.

Tongues twisted and teeth nipped, soft sounds filled the confined space, your pleasured sighs and his pleased moans.

Never a patient man, Johnny started to trail his hands down your body, caressing your neck, down your sides to grip your hips, feeling the soft flesh there and wrapping around to grab your ass once more for good measure before trailing back up to lift your tank top up over your head.

With more of your skin exposed to him, Johnny wasted no time parting from your lip lock to instead press a line of them along your neck, stopping to make a handful of little (huge) marks as he went.

It was in the same manner of slow caresses that he pushed your sweatpants off your hips, letting them fall in a pool around your ankles.

He wasn't surprised to see your lack of panties, you usually didn't bother with them if you weren't leaving the house.

His large hands rested where the waistband of your pants had been, rubbing lightly at the indents it left in your skin, before they slipped down and around your bum to lift you into his arms, walking toward the shower as you claimed his lips in another scorching kiss.

Once in the little glass cubicle, he put you back on your feet, back against the wall, his still clothed chest pressed to your bare one, the fabric of his shirt making your nipples tingle.

"Stay." He ordered against your lips before backing away just enough to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it away without a care, his own sweatpants following a moment later, boxers going with them.

With his whole body bare you couldn't help but admire him for a moment. Johnny is a perfect example of peak male form, the kind that would make art students drool to have as a model.

With his fit body with a little bit of pudge around his belly to make him perfect for cuddles. Strong arms littered with scars and tattoos, each of which with a story of its own. Powerful legs that you know can run for miles and miles before ever tiring. And all of it is sprinkled with dark hair that forms trails and paths to all your favorite bits.

As you watched him, he watched you.

Blue eyes burned like coals as they raked up and down your body, and you knew what a sight you made. Chest heaving with heavy breaths that you haven't gotten back since that first kiss. Face flushed and hot all the way down to your chest. Leaned back against the cool tiles like they're the only thing keeping you upright, and to be honest, they are.

"Bonny girl..." He murmured softly, still heated but much more tender than the fiery passion of mere moments ago.

Then he was on you, a blind hand darting out to turn the water on, filling the room with the sounds of drops on tile, and the air quickly filling with steam as the water quickly got hotter than intended.

"Shit!" He crowed followed by a litany of Scottish curses spoken so fast you couldn't even try to decipher them as he rushed to turn the knob cooler.

You both stood there frozen for a moment before laughter filled the space. The kind of fully body laughter that makes your sides ache a little and leaves you breathless for a moment.

And once the laughter had died down, and the water was a temperature that didn’t feel like it would burn your skin off, you two were right back at it like nothing even happened.

Johnny had you pressed to the wall once more, his chest pressed to yours, his hands roaming, stopping to hold your breasts, fingers playing with your nipples till they came to peaks that he proceeded to lean down and take into his mouth.

An airy sound escaped you as you leaned into the touch, your own fingers digging into his hair to pull him closer, forever craving more of his touch.

“Johnny…Please…?” You pleaded, knowing he knew exactly what you wanted.

His pretty blues looked up at you through dark wet lashes with a twinkle, a smirk forming around where your nipple disappeared into his mouth.

Rather than tease you, he let his lifted brow do the work as he sank further down, releasing your teat with a soft pop that was only barely audible over the shower. Resting on a knee, one of his hands trailed down over your hip and down your thigh to take hold of the back of your knee, lifting your leg up onto his shoulder.

His lips pressed to the inside of your thigh, his scruffy face scratching lightly and leaving tingles in his wake as he slowly kissed his way to the apex, where the position he had you in opened you up to him perfectly.

You desired him since waking that morning, after he’d gone for his run, and your body was more than ready to accept what he would give you, already wet from more than just the water running in rivulets down your body.

The first thing he did was press a filthy kiss to your clit, already aching a little from not having been paid any attention till now, and it pulled a soft little gasp from you that made him hum, pleased at how your body reacts to his touch.

Said hum sent a shock of vibrations through your body that had your hands gripping his shoulders, and you could feel more than see his smirk at that, always so pleased with himself, your Johnny.

Choosing to have mercy on you, and himself, his tongue lolled out to lap at you from bottom to top, where he gave your clit a suck before replacing his mouth with his thumb, rubbing slow little circles as his mouth moved lower to essentially make out with your pussy.

One could be forgiven for thinking that the sounds Johnny MacTavish made as he ate you out were over the top, put on for your benefit, but no. He just loved tasting you that much, as moans and sighs and the occasional muffled “Fuck…” drifted to your ears over the running water.

And you were left to choose if you wanted to give him your own sounds or hold them in so you could hear his better, an eternal battle between you, so desperate to hear the other than you both played a game to see who would break first.

You usually lost.

This time it was his free hand coming down to press two fingers into you as his mouth returned to your, now throbbing, clit.

A pattern of curled fingers and sucking lips and lathing tongues was started and your end, or at least the first of this night, came all too fast.

And as waves of pleasure washed over you like the hot water from the shower head, he cooed up at you, his fingers never stilling. “So pretty for me, Hen…That’s it…”

Once your orgasm had ebbed, he returned to his feet, strong arms holding you as your legs shook a little.

“Think you got another in you?” He asked, sweet heat burning in his baby blues as he watched your flushed chest heave with each breath.

“More than…” You promised.

“That’s what I like to head…” He murmured as he leaned down and claimed your lips once more, giving you a taste of yourself and him as his tongue twisted with your own. “Turn for me?” He whispered against your lips.

And you weren’t about to argue, not when your pussy ached to be filled, and his cock looked so desperate, standing fully at attention and the tip red.

Sneaking another quick peck to his lips, you turned and leaned forward against the wet tiled wall, cold to the touch in a way that made goose flesh sprout over your skin.

A low groan echoed in the air as he looked down at your pussy and ass, wet and glistening like a gift from heaven, an altar he was more than happy to worship at.

The feeling of his cock filling you wasn’t new, not by many miles, but it never ceased to drive you wild. Hot and thick, there was always a little bit of a stretch, but Johnny never failed to take his time and let your body go at its own pace.

Soft whimpering sounds left your soft lips once he was fully seated in you, his tip pressed right up against your cervix just right.

“Fuuucking Hell, Bonny…Gripping me just right…” He moaned before giving his hips a slow roll, pressing into you just that little bit more before pulling back and starting in on a slow rhythm.

You could feel the burn of his eyes on the place where your bodies met, watching as he disappeared into you over and over, tormenting you with his slow pace.

Knowing what he wanted, you pressed back against him, meeting his movements halfway in a manner than had his shaft rubbing right up against your g-spot.

You could practically hear his smirk as his grip on your hips tightened and he sped up, going from zero to a hundred as he slammed into you over and over.

The sounds that left both of you would have neighbors calling the cops for fear of two animals fighting. Your high whimpers and moans meeting his low groans and growls in an orchestral cacophony that was a filthy as it was beautiful.

It all came to a crescendo as your orgasms hit both of you like trucks, yours setting his off by mere seconds.

Your pussy clenching down on his in waves as he filled you to the brim, his movements not stopping as you both rode out the pleasure, his cum leaking down your thighs to mingle with the water as it was washed away.

The water turned cold a few moments later and the room once more filled with your laughter.

[girl-in-the-chairs-void]

Oh, Sweetheart...

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x fem!reader

Summary: Jake's roommate wants to go watch the sunrise, but he has other plans for the morning.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, this is basically porn, there is a small section that isn't filth at the start but the rest is just... yeah,fluff, size kink, solved sexual tension, oral sex (m and f receiving because reader is like that), p in v, unprotected sex (they are at it raw, so wrap it before you tap it!), slightly dry humping?, pet names, dirty talk, daddy kink, hair pulling, mentions of spit and saliva, overall this is the filthiest thing I've ever written, no use of y/n (?) I think there is an allusion of squirting but I'm pretty sure its just creampie...

word count: 4.1K of porn

A/n: this is my first piece of smut, so please be nice. also English isn't my first language so bear in mind there may be spelling mistakes.

“Jake, Jake, Jake” Dragging out the last of the vowels in his name, you ran into the man’s bedroom. Singing his name in joy and excitement. 

Jake groaned, rolling over to grab the pillow beside him and covering his ears with it to block out your deafening calls. But immediately regrets doing so because the second the pillow is onto his ear; you snatch it out of his grasp and pin him under you. 

“Ughh..go away.” he spoke groggily, annoyance lacing his voice as he tried to figure out the time of day that would have caused you to scream like this. 

Nope…you are like this everyday. 

He peels his eyes open to find not a single ray of light outside his window, only navy blue skies with stars like dusted sugar. The moon is still in tow, perched up in the sky, shining, glowing its way into the room. He could make out a few birds chirping outside through the closed window. Singing their morning songs before the sun woke up.  A soft breeze pouring into the room, rustling the white curtains. 

He slowly rubs the sleep out of them in order to get a better look at your joyous self. Immediately softening his gaze as they settle on you. 

“Sweetheart, it's not even morning yet, what are you doing here?” He slept naked in his bed, only a pair of boxers covering him. His chest was covered in a thin sheen of sweat from the heat.

His hands move to your hips in an attempt to keep you from crushing his pelvic where you sat snug, straddling him. Bare legs on either side, the cotton of your underwear sneaking into his eyesight from under the shirt you were wearing. Your hands immediately intercept their way into his palms, threading your fingers through them until they are joined like a prayer, pinning them on either side of his head. 

He is more than surprised by your sudden actions. Eyes wide, mouth parted: he yelps at your behavior, taking in a few deep breaths as he feels hot crimson start to creep up his chest. 

“Let’s go watch the sunrise,” you begin before a yawn has weaved its way through your throat, letting go of one of his hands as you cover your mouth with the back of it, “on the rooftop?” 

“The rooftop, huh?” he smiled, eyes lazily scanning over your shirt clad figure, his shirt… Heavy lidded eyes blinked pleadingly in his direction, a small pout forming at your lips as you sat further on him; grinding yourself just a little over his crotch. A little friction never hurts anybody…

“Please, Jake…”

He muffled a groan at the feeling of you against him, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath. His hands were out of your grasp in an instant. You let out a gasp as his hands found their way back to your hips and flipped you onto the bed, your legs on either side of his torso. 

“‘I can think of a few things we can do before the sun is up.” 

His hands move to your sides, squeezing the tender flesh then moving to your thighs, running his hands up and down them, softly caressing the warm skin. His touch is freezing against you. Cold fingers crawling their way into your inner thighs. 

“Oh, sweetheart..”

You let out a shaky breath, whimpering as his eyes met yours as you looked up. Hands instinctively raise to tangle themselves in his hair, wrapping around the back of his neck as you toyed with the ends. You looked at him, pleading. Brows knit together as you tried to reach his lips, but he turned, meeting the stubble of his cheek, rough against your lips. 

“Is this okay?” 

Your mind was nowhere to be found. Thoughts all over the place that you didn’t even register his words, only nodding dumbly to his question. 

His pupils are blown, the shade of green you admire so much is long gone, replaced by a dark look. 

“Tell me what you want, baby.” 

You reach for him again. Desperate to feel his lips on yours, but he persists. Never letting you latch onto them. 

“Meanie,” your head falls back on the pillow in defeat, needy whines falling off your lips as you hear him chuckle.

“You’re playing a dangerous game here, darlin’”

His gaze is all over you from where he is propped, a hand on the side of your head to keep him up, the other lost between the soft dough of your thighs. 

He tries to recall the time when you two became…this. Whatever this was. A drunken night that both of you never regretted…but were too scared to commit to. 

“That was a one time thing,” was something you both had agreed on. 

He’d love to take you out though. On a date, a picnic on the beach, somewhere that doesn’t end with you two in his bed at the end of the night, skin to skin, falling apart. He loves it, don’t get him wrong, but he hoped that you two were simpler than this sticky mess that came with being roommates. 

You search for his hand that was exploring your legs, dragging it up your thighs, to between your legs. His eyes widen just a little as his fingers make contact with the damp cotton. Your mouth parts at the touch. Letting go of his wrist, you shift, sitting up against the headboard, his hand following your cunt like a magnet. 

There is a smirk on your face. There is no doubt that Jake is wide awake, knowing of the soft mummering roommate that was begging a second ago is gone. Replaced by a siren, sharp and cunning as a knife. He wished you were like this all the time. That you wouldn’t hide yourself in the back of a party with your drink. 

But a part of him was glad that you were only like this with him. Jake Seresin didn’t like to share, and you were no exception. 

“Tell me what you want, darlin’,” he breathes, inching closer so you feel his breath down your neck, warm lips just below your ear. 

Your breath hitches, heart stutters at the nickname as a breeze passes you by, shivering. It makes you clench around nothing. Thighs closing their way in to create some friction, but the thick of his fingers latch onto them before you could, refraining you from doing so. 

“Keep ‘em open for me,” he orders, soft. Peppering small kisses down the column of your neck. 

He hasn't even kissed you, yet all you can do is whimper and groan softly. 

“Wanna feel you inside me, now. Wanna feel your mouth, your cock, your fingers.” 

The lopsided grin on his face is intoxicating, his head dips into your collarbone as he lets out a laugh. 

“Such dirty words for a sweet mouth like yours,” he humors, but there is nothing humorous about it. His eyes, dark as ever in the dim moonlight pouring in from the window. 

“Let me give you a reason to stay in bed.” 

it’s dizzying how quickly he can make you fall apart. He hasn’t even touched you yet but a whimper falls from your pretty lips as his latch onto your neck. Making their way down to your collarbone until he hits the collar of your his shirt. 

You tug at the fabric. Sitting up, sliding it up to your chest as you lock eyes with him, giving him a smirk. You tear it off yourself teasingly slowly. Hearing him take a deep breath just as the fabric reveals your bare chest. 

“Christ…you are beautiful.” It’s never failed to make you blush. He throws the compliment like it’s not meant to pierce through your heart and make it burst into flames. Saying it with such care, and softness that it makes you want to melt in the mattress. 

You grab onto his shoulder, leveling yourself with him. Letting out a shaky breath, his hands immediately crave their way into the dip of your waist. Feeling the lush skin, caressing with just the right amount of pressure that has you melting into him. 

He hoists you onto his lap, the sound birds chattering getting louder outside the window. The sky gets a little brighter. You sit snug in his lap, legs either side of his thighs. You let out a moan at the feeling of the hard length of him rubbing against your core as he manhandles you. 

“Jake…” 

“Y-Yes, sweetheart..”

“Kiss m-“ 

You don’t even finish the sentence and his lips anchor onto yours like seabed, dipping in with such intensity that you can’t tell who's taking dominance. The swipe of his tongue caught on top of yours, melting at the taste. relaxing as he digs in for more like a starved man.

You separate with a soft gasp and pop of lips, a string of spit hanging between the two of you, keeping your lips connected. But it’s gone just as quickly as Jake moves down to your jaw. Open mouthed and wet kisses and nipping at each part of your skin with a hunger you have never seen before. He moves to your neck, grazing his teeth at the pulse before his tongue swipes over the blush he had just created, then to your collarbones, kissing each dip of bone and skin until it’s hot and red.

His mouth moves to your breasts, biting softly at the nipple as he takes it in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it that has you making the most obscene sounds, arching your back to push them further into his mouth. 

He lets go of it with a loud pop! Moving on to your other breast to give the hardened nipple some attention. It makes you tug his hair harder, grazing your way to the roots that has him sucking harder. 

His hand has seemed to develop a mind of its own in this time. Latching onto your underwear. His fingers slide down the outside of the damp cotton, the effect of his touch already soaking them. He pushed them aside to feel the stickiness that clings to the fabric in thin strings. 

“All this for me, baby?” He coos, lowering himself to your cunt, blowing a low breath that has you seeing stars. 

You nod mindlessly at the question, he knew the answer to it anyway. But the thought of you being this wet for him makes him dizzy.

“Use your words, sweetheart.” he says, slowly dragging his index and middle finger down your folds. 

“I- Jake…” trailing off as his thumb presses into your clit, circling it until he finds that one nerve, that one spot that has you whimpering.

He makes quick work of you. Throwing the panties somewhere around his room, backing away as you let out a whine. He kisses along the length of your leg, moving closer to your inner thighs, squeezing the tender flesh. It makes you want to run your hands through his hair but he’s too damn far away that you’re left to bootlessly try and relieve the tension by squeezing at your tits.  

His mouth is getting closer now. He nips and bites as he gets closer to the sensitive flesh of your cunt. Breathing it in, he licks a stripe up your folds, doing it with such precision that has you seeing stars. 

It makes you look pathetic, he hasn’t even started and you’re already falling apart on his tongue. 

His saliva sticks thick to you, tongue slowly circling your clit as he brings a hand up to your clenching hole. Your mouth is left wide open, his middle finger inching into you- just a little but the pressure playing at your clit and his teasing makes you grind your hips further into him. Letting out the most obscene sounds. 

“More, please Jake…” 

The chuckle he lets out is criminally menacing. Like his mind is playing a reel of how he is going to make you beg into the morning. Instantly he withdraws the flesh from yours, making you chase after it. 

He brings them to his mouth, slowly putting them in his mouth to suck off the wetness. He doesn’t clean them fully though. Taking them out of his mouth to bring to yours. Your mouth is open wide before he can even command you to do so, letting him press the digits flat onto your tongue as your mouth closes, swirling the muscle around them. 

His cock is growing harder by the second, straining through his boxers as the sight of you, spread out on his bed, fingers in your mouth, it makes him groan. The pain of his throbbing cock is unbearable. 

You notice the pinch of brows in his forehead, his hand that inches towards his boxers to relieve some of that tension. You grab his wrist that is almost there, stopping it from reaching. You drag his hand to your waist, making him hold onto it as you let go. 

He looks at you, puzzled. It's wiped away as you push your hand through the thick band of his boxers, palming him slowly before tugging it out. 

“Hey, are you sure about this? We’ve never done this kinda thing before and I don’t want you to feel obliged-“ 

Your mouth is onto his in an instant, shitting him up as he lets out a ‘umph’. Immediately melting into the kiss, wrapping a hand around the column of your neck, holding it oh so gently. 

You pull away after a moment, smiling adoringly at him. 

“I’m sure, Jakey.��� 

He’s big. There was no doubt in your mind that he was big when you first met. The man had an ego the size of Texas and there must have been a reason for that. True to it, you found out he was big. 

The first time the two of you did this, he could barely fit into you, deciding to settle for his mouth rather than trying to fit him. And when you did manage to, after a few more ‘drunken nights’, you could barely walk the next few days. 

You flicked teasingly at the tip of his cock, which made him immediately withdraw his fingers from your mouth as he let out a moan. 

“Fucking Christ, doll” 

You smirk at him, coyly getting on all fours and tugging away his boxers. He lifts his hips to let you take them off, raising an eyebrow at you. But your actions have spoken louder than words and he’s already put the pieces together. 

You stroke it, slow, concise movements, hand sliding his slick up and down the thick of his shaft. Your fingers can barely meet around his girth and the length of him has you watering at the mouth as you bring your face closer to it. He won’t be easy to take in, you know that. But the thought of him spilling in your mouth has been on your mind for days. You thought about it last night too, coming up with the idea of taking him to the roof and taking him there. But this is ten times better than what you had thought. 

You wrap your mouth around the tip of him, tongue flicking that head. The wetness clings to the insides of your mouth, coating the walls of your inner cheeks in a creme white color as you start to take in more of him. You could feel the salty tears burning into your eyes now  You’re barely halfway down him when the tip hits the back of your throat, you gag around him, but the action gets a grumble out of Jake, deep from his chest and you’re sure if you do it again he will fall apart. So, you refrain yourself from doing so, slowly bobbing your head up and down his length. 

“That’s it, baby. Just like that,” he sighs. His hand comes to rest against the back of your head, guiding your movements. He’s so thick, you’re astonished that you can even fit him in you. 

Your movements turn faster within minutes, the sound of his struggling groans and noises that you’re making, mixed with the wet- almost obscene- sounds of his cock has made you dizzy. You turn your attention away from his happy trail and shift them to look at him. He’s already looking at you, mouth open, pupils blown wide that you can barely make out the greens in it in the dim light. 

You feel him twitch in you, and you know he is near a release. You wrap a hand around the rest of him that you can’t take in, stroking it out at the same speed. 

“Fuck, sweetheart…” 

Your movements stutter as you feel him release inside you. The thick of his cum is warm as it washes your throat and the outside of your neck. Suddenly your mouth is being pulled back from him, making you whine at the loss of contact. Jake pulls your head back gently, his cum still in your mouth as you close your mouth and swallow it loudly.

Jake swears under his breath as you do so, the sight of you, fucked out eyes, a white string of saliva drooling out of your mouth as you look at him with those big doe eyes as you swallow his cum. You look fucking angelic. 

“You still wanna go to the roof, darlin’?” 

The question has your eyes wide, if it were physically possible. 

You clean the side of your drooling mouth with the back of your hand, shaking your head. True, taking him to the roof was something you wanted to do, but that was only part of it. This, sucking him off, making him cum like he does you every night was your real motive. 

“Words, baby,” 

“Wanted you first.”

He almost melts at the hoarseness of your voice. His arm comes to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your hand pushes on his chest, making him fall back on his back, flat against the bed. You straddle him, your 

“Wanna ride you, daddy. Can I?” There is something so innocent about your eyes that he’s never seen before. Sweet doe eyes of a swan; he was enchanted by their beauty when you first met, still to this day it never failed to make him go feral. 

The nickname isn’t so foreign to him though. But the way the request falls out of your pretty lips, covered in a sheen of his cum like your vanilla lip gloss has him going hard again. And you feel him, the thickening of him against your already wet core. 

“Fuck, doll, you wanna ride daddy?” 

You nod, hands spread on his chest as you lean down, breathing your way down his neck, leaving sweet kisses as you make your way up to his lips. 

“Please?” 

He doesn’t give you an answer, rather choosing to bring his hand to your soaking cunt that hovers over his cock. Circling your clit, it makes you moan the most pornographic sounds he has ever heard. You’re so sensitive and fragile under his touch. He can feel the pulse dripping down to your pussy. Feel it pulse against his fingers as he coracles them. 

Your own hand comes down to meet his, lining his cock with your hole as you sink down slowly. The pain is familiar and god does it feel good to have him in you. You can feel it tearing your walls with a sweet stretch. 

He lets out strangled grunts, hand at your hip, the other circling your clit the same, overstimulating you before you can even get a full taste of him in you. 

“Jake, please, please don’t stop, you fill me up so good.” The filthy words are breathlessly falling out of your lips. 

He guides your hips deeper until your pelvic brushes against his happy trail. You’re sitting snug on him, not making a move as a mechanism to adjust to him. His movements that were abusing your swollen clit just a second ago have stopped, his legs are bent to support your back, open wide. 

Slowly, you start to bounce, moving up and down the length of him and the pain is soon replaced by pleasure. The sound of skin slapping is the only thing bouncing off the walls of the room as it fills with the sun's morning rays. 

Your movements continue their way, moving faster with each stroke inside you, you’re clenching around him, squeezing his cock as praises fall off his lips like prayers; “you’re so good f’me baby”, “gonna fill you up so nice you’ll be soaking for days”,”that’s it sweetheart, there you go, make those pretty sounds for me.”

It’s dizzying how the simplest of words have you making the most sinful sounds, his grunts and moans are stifled but he isn’t doing much better either as you feel his cock twitch wildly in you, coating your walls. It’s all too much. His hands on you, his fingers that are assaulting your clit at scandalous speeds. You feel yourself too over the edge, hands running down his chest as you bend down to lock your lips in a hurry, kissing him stupid. 

The hand at your hip is now wrapped around your throat, he knows you like it. But the way he ever so gently squeezes the column of your throat makes you spill moans into his mouth until you don’t know whose spit is whose. His tongue is teasingly wide in your mouth, tasting himself. 

“Jake, I’m-“

“It’s okay baby, go ahead,” 

You’re spilling. It’s everywhere, dripping down your thighs. He’s in you, fits in you so well that you’re sure he was made for it. You let out a muffled scream against his mouth, pulling out of him then thrusting back in immediately. That’s his last straw and he’s spilling in you. The wet sounds of your skin slows as you both pull away, catching your breaths while he’s still buried deep inside you. Your gummy walls are squeezing rapidly around him even now. You scold yourself for not doing those pelvic exercises because now you’re leaking uncontrollably onto his sheets and staining them. 

You let out a curse, already moving to get off him but his hands ground you back on him, refraining you from moving. 

“Don’t,” he lets out a soft grunt, brows pinched as though he is in pain and you realize it would hurt the both of you if you were to pull out immediately after an orgasm. “Let me help ya’.”

He flips the two of you carefully, settling you on your back, avoiding any cause of friction that would further your overstimulation. He knows every inch of you, knows how sensitive you get after sex. 

He slowly pulls out of you, making both of you let out a groan. The sheets are a mess, gray sheets covered in a sheen of white, it’s filthy. But Jake’s hand comes to rest on your jaw and you forget about the mess you’re in. 

“Let me clean you up, yeah?” 

You nod silently, shifting onto your elbows to rest against the headboard as Jake comes back with a wet towel. 

“This might sting a little, alright?” 

“Okay,” 

His fingers are working softly against your flesh, cleaning the tender skin that’s covered in his cum. He smells of sandalwood and sex. You don’t know whether you want to kiss him silly or fall asleep to it. But he senses your gaze on him, looking at him softly when his eyes meet yours, he smiles, throws the towel in the corner of the room and pulls you into a searing kiss. 

It’s anything but rushed. Soft lips against the taste of him, there are fireworks blasting in your mind, your tummy doing somersaults. He never kissed you with such…intensity before. All the ones before were rushed, sloppy, filled with lust but this…this is different. His loss holds such promise for a better morning that you’re sure you want this so be something more than casual hookups. 

But you don’t bring it up now. This is a moment too good to be ruined. 

You pull away first, taking a deep breath, all you can smell is him, it’s all over you. The smile on his face is intoxicating. You’re happy, he’s happy.

“I still wanna watch the sunrise though” 

“You little-“

God, you wish you could have these mornings forever. 

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[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Can I Stay? (A Baekhyun Story) Part 5.

Pairing: You x Baekhyun

Rating: M (Mature Content)

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: Outright overly dramatic, yet tasteful and sophisticated descriptions of sex between two consenting adults with an unspecified age difference between them, no mentions of/or absence of sexual protection implied or expressed, an English story that uses the word Noona for lack of another word in English that carries the same feeling, if you don’t like this, then don’t read this story.

Author‘s note: remember all those years ago I said I’d write a Baekhyun x Noona fic? This is that fic.

Inspired by the Ray LaMontagne song Can I Stay

Links: Can I Stay? Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Tag List: @andimoon @his-mochi-cheeks

“Noona, I think we like each other.”

You felt the deafening silence as every single voice of reason and each and every alarm bell inside of you went still when you kissed him.

You felt the lighting strike hit close enough this time to send a bolt straight through your chest when you kissed him.

Somewhere deep inside your chest, somewhere tiny and somewhere hidden, you were vibrating. You felt the steady hum of it.

Baekhyun’s lips were so soft and when you pressed your own into his, you felt the smallest movement from him in response. His response was gentle and yielding. He gave in to you so easily as you kissed him. You took what you wanted and he gave it to you.

Baekhyun’s face was still. His eyes took a little bit longer to open and when he did his heavy eyelids resisted. With pink cheeks and lips still wet from the kiss, he lazily pulled his heavy eyes open, you were caught again in the warm deep brown of them. The hands that had held your face earlier had broken the contact with the warm skin of your face when you had kissed him. His hands were frozen now, lifted in their former place but the man was too quiet, too stunned, too motionless in the still and quiet moments after you had kissed him.

After a few seconds he closed his eyes and drew in a breath of air that stuttered on its way in and out again and he laid the palm of his hand over his chest, lightly setting it just over his chestplate, giving a slow and gentle and almost undetectable tap, tap as he breathed through it.

It only took you a few moments of sitting in the aftermath but slowly, and one by one, your thoughts and your many worries came back to you. You gave your head a tiny shake and you rolled your eyeballs around inside of your head and you could feel each one slipping its fingers running them around your rim. You were vibrating. You could feel the hum when you lifted a hand to your own chest. It wasn’t your heart beat nor your breathing.

You’d done it. The President’s son. Your charge that had been carefully placed into your hands to care and to nurture and help grow — you’d done it. Each and every carefully grown, polished, expertly placed year of your career and every single painstakingly ripped and clawed your way through the competition milestone and award you had bled for, and every single sleepless night; every single soul sucking week after week, month after month so you could get to the top; every single fucking thing you have spent your entire life working toward — you could feel the thoughts racing and with each new realization that hit you like a train your breathing puffed out faster and harder from your chest and you had to close your eyes through it. You had to turn your head away from him and you lifted a trembling hand to your face, covering your lips with the palm of your hand.

“Shit,” you said from below the skin of your hand.

Baekhyun must have been alerted by your trembling hands, or maybe it was the very same swear word uttered in nearly the exact same tone as he had used to say it this morning.

You fucked up. Just as he declared that he had fucked up and there was simply no taking this back and rewinding and pretending like it had never happened.

“Hey-” his voice called from somewhere close to you, “hey, hey, no. No, don't say that,” he was whispering beside you. You felt his arms then. He was standing up it seemed and you felt a strong and steady warmth coating you as he wrapped both of his arms around your shoulders, bringing a warm hand up over the top of your head. You smelled him everywhere in this and you found yourself pressed inside the firmness of his chest as he held you so tightly in his arms.

“No, this feels terrible, is that what I said to you after I kissed you? Jesus, I get it. Please don't say that.” His arms were squeezing you tighter and you found movement impossible and the oxygen in here pressed up against the white t-shirt he wore with the heat and the warmth of his chest under the thin fabric. You had a hand in here as well, thoroughly squished by the tightness of the hold he kept on you and you had to breathe, you had to wiggle your hand, pushing against him slightly, anything so he could loosen the hold just a little bit.

“I won’t let you go until you take it back,” he said with an impossible tightening of his arms around you. You were going to die right here smothered between this man’s pectoral muscles. There was some bargaining taking place in the back of your mind. There was some acceptance happening back there as well as you weighed the two deaths. This way: smothered by his boobs, which actually had been featured in one of your more recent late night fantasies, certainly seemed preferable to the vomit-covered splatter fall to the pavement you’d contemplated earlier. Plus he did smell very nice. You could think of worse ways to go.

You did your best to nod your head. He felt the movement and responded by relaxing his body around you just enough, just enough for you to pull your head out of his shirt and lift your face and take deep satisfying cooling breath from the fresh air over your head. Your hand was still pinned right beside your face, a kind of zombie claw coming up out of the ground.

“Let me go—hmm?” you pleaded in a whisper.

“But, you’ll run away,” he replied with a severe pout.

“I don't have anywhere to run. I live here.” It felt like a weird hostage negotiation.

“You’ll find somewhere to run, you are very crafty and very smart.”

“Baek-hyun,” you squeaked out the words and he looked down at you, still very much wrapped around you, extremely close and with one of the most serious expressions set very deep inside his brown eyes. “It’s impossible,” you whispered into the tiny space between your lips and his lips.

“Whatever it is that you’re thinking inside that beautiful head of yours, I need you to stop. It’s not impossible. It’s not even close to impossible. Time travel is impossible. Moving things with your mind, that is impossible— I tried. This is just two people that like each other, nothing could be more possible than that.” His eyes searched over your face as he spoke and his lips hung open as he exhaled his breath over your lips again. The heat that traveled over your face had you gasping for air again, even though he had loosened his hold on you, you felt that pull into him again as he spoke passionately about what you were still pretty sure could not be really happening.

“Noona,” you saw the effects of your most recent negative thoughts roll over his back as he did his absolute best to push them away. His eyes sunk closed and you saw the furrow of his eyebrows as a somewhat pained expression landed on his pretty face. You didn’t like it. From this close up, you did not like to see him like this, in any state of unhappiness.

“Noona,” he repeated again as he inhaled once more, “I think my feelings are hurt.” He gave your whole body the smallest shake of complaint. You were blindsided by how cute it was and you felt your flimsy resolve shake at its foundation with the tiny earthquake he just gave you.

His eyes glanced down at you for a second and you looked up at him with that same look of uncertainty as you had before. This time you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and you bit down lightly, not hard enough to cause any pain but definitely hard enough for something like a smile to break though.

You heard a soft whine from the back of his throat now, and he shook you again. His arms appeared to be linked tightly around your back. It was evident that you weren’t going anywhere until you both had come to some sort of agreement. You heard a deeply dissatisfied sigh from way deep down in the pit of his stomach and you only had so much you could take before you felt yourself crumble in his arms.

“Baekhyun, what? What do you want me to do about your hurt feelings?”

“I don't know. Make it better,” he grumbled. You closed your eyes and bit down on your lip again.

“How can I?” You asked under your breath and when you opened your eyes he was watching your lips as you spoke. Reading your lips whisper. Reading your struggles and your frustration in them. “How can I, how can we—” the words trailed off and their meaning hung heavy on your tongue.

Impossible.

You would lose everything.

“We just do,” he whispered back into the space that kept you both separated. “You do, and I do and we just—” He shook his head back and forth ever so slightly. There were no answers here.

Only miracles.

His lips still held a pout. His pink bottom lip stuck out just enough for the upset to still be evident on his face. The impossible situation you’d drawn attention to and his frustration and hurt feelings and all of it sat there dripping off his bottom lip.

You looked up and you leaned in. Your own mouth opened over his lips and you pulled him into you. You heard the sounds from his throat, low and groaning at the sudden kiss. Again, only this time you kissed him for the upset. To rid him of that silly storm cloud that had settled over his head with your talk of impossibilities and your thoughts of doom and gloom.

Baekhyun’s lips parted for you and as he received your kiss he offered his own, pushing himself further into you, you felt the tip of his tongue slipping along the softness of your lip, painting along the edge of your teeth, and the suction of his lips as he pulled lightly against the flesh, you felt him bite down with his teeth as he did it.

You couldn't even remember the last time someone kissed you this way, as if under a spell in which every insatiable human urge needed to be satisfied at once.

With every gasp for air there was an undeniable need for more and with every touch of his hands over your skin, every wandering of your own hands over the smoothness of his chest, you came to realize a point of no return was quickly coming to a head and if you were going to stop it, you should act now.

You had to pull away from his mouth, and you had to do it for the sake of your own sanity. You left him with his heaving breaths and his lips hung open and all of that body heat and firmness and tension that you felt all over his body and you had to physically extract yourself from it. It took considerable effort and after a few seconds of feeling all of that cool air over your skin, your mind finally began to grab ahold of itself enough for just a few rational thoughts to finally sink their way inside.

This day; this evening, it snowballed with incredible speed. You felt blindsided by it.

You must have both recognized the danger. Baekhyun leaned against the countertop with his eyes still closed and his breathing finally settling, and you were still close enough to reach out and touch him, but you no longer found yourself trapped in his arms.

You inhaled and exhaled a deep breath and the sound of it pulled his eyes to you for a moment. After a few breaths of his own you saw the smile that appeared on his lips. That pretty smile that touched his eyes and overcame him for just a second. He had to close his eyes for it. It was contagious and you felt your own lips pulling into a small smile, you exhaled a small chuckle as you shook your head back and forth.

“Are you still upset with me?” You knew he wasn’t. You still had to ask.

You didn’t want him to ever be upset with you. That feeling was so strong and overwhelmingly certain inside of you. You tilted your head with the small question you asked him and he watched you with wide blinking eyes and one of his eyebrows bounced up and back down again. His smile was back only he had quit looking at you in favor of throwing his head back and rolling his eyes over the ceiling of your kitchen.

That smile felt like a drug. The small chuckle that burst from his chest was even better and when his tongue slipped out of the corner of his mouth and he bit down on his lip and his eyes slipped once again over to you. The look in his eyes was something you hadn’t been prepared for. You knew this look and it was only trouble. There was longing in there. There was desire and there was lust and there was only one destination with him looking at you this way.

Emergency evasive actions had to be taken for both of your sake if not for the mere fact that you had only just confessed your feelings to each other less than an hour ago and you refused to allow your insane attraction to the man get the better of you.

When you dropped the eye contact and cleared your throat, in some attempt to reel yourself in, you heard him make a sound and from the back of his throat. It was half of a throat clearing, half of some animalistic growl that you tried your best to ignore and you reached for the half full beer can. You put it to your lips, poured the liquid into your mouth, and you tasted nothing of what you swallowed but at least it was something to do with your hands. At least it was a welcomed distraction from the man who at this very moment was doing the exact same thing with his beer. He’d emptied his and you watched him wander from this dangerous spot beside you around to your kitchen trash can into which he noisily dropped the can. It clanked to the bottom and at the same time you heard the boom of another thunderclap from that storm that still raged outside.

It was bound to rain all night long. You wondered if you’d be able to get any sleep tonight.

You noticed he wasn’t reaching for another beer and you figured it was because he knew he would need to drive home at some point.

Your mind wandered through the events of the evening, landing curiously somewhere at the beginning when he first showed up.

What had he told you then?

“Why didn’t you park out front again?” You remembered he’d mentioned a truck, and something else was tickling at your mind as you looked at the clock and saw it nearing 1am now. “Where did you say you parked your car?”

You were asking him real questions now and he gave his head a tiny shake as he pulled his fortitude back into his sane mind so he could have this little conversation with you.

“Uhh…,” he began, and he widened his eyes a bit to clear away the fuzz, “yeah there was a moving truck parked in the front. I thought they might need the space to load up, so I had to park inside a secure lot on the corner.” He cleared his throat after he said it and your brow furrowed as you tried to think of any other lot besides the one that you knew closed for the evening between midnight and 5am, which was part of what made it a secure lot.

You did your best with it, but that was the only lot you knew of existence in this neighborhood.

Your stomach sank just a little bit.

“Baekhyun, the lot on the corner?”

He nodded his head as if he seemed only mildly curious about why you were discussing this right now.

“They lock it up at midnight,” you said flatly. Your eyes blinked steadily at him and you bit down hard on your bottom lip before inhaling to add another fact that you knew about this lot. “It doesn’t open until morning. That’s why it’s a secure lot. There will be no way for you to get your car out until morning.”

He was watching your face with more interest now. After a few moments of him staring his brows furrowed deeply, he inhaled and hissed his response, “Why would they do that?”

He gave his head a shake, as if this made no sense.

“What did you do?” You whispered in response, lifting your hand in his direction in question and you hopelessly fought the smile on your face as best you could, but something in you found this little blunder of his to be weirdly funny. You let a little giggle escape and you lifted your hand up to cover it up.

“I just gave them my car but I thought they would give it back to me,” he whispered back at you with his hand also lifted in the same way you had done and you were laughing outright at him now.

“Guess I’ll have to take a taxi,” he said to himself and another thunder boom sounded in the distance. Your giggles quieted down and Baekhyun was looking down at your counter from the safety of the other side now, away from where you sat on this stool having your own little struggles with the thought of sending him out in a taxi in this storm.

Baekhyun was slowly tracing the edge of your kitchen counter with his fingertip. It was an aimless and mindless motion and your eyes followed the path his finger took until he took a step and reached the end closest to your front doorway. You saw his focus land on a few things you kept there. You had a little dish with some loose change. You had a few sets of keys that opened various locks, some that you remembered, some that you did not. Some baubles and some things that just happened to land there when you got home. His hand landed around a small bottle of perfume that you kept there so you could spray some on your skin or on your neck before you headed out the door in the mornings, and either his curiosity or his brazen nosiness had him lifting the bottle and uncapping it to place it against his nose for a sniff.

“Is this what you wear?”

You hummed out your response, admitting that yes, lately that was your go-to scent.

Baekhyun sprayed once on his wrist and lifted a hand to his nose, coming back with a pout on his lips. Did he not like it? Was it too cheap for his expensive tastes and he found it unpleasant compared to something that you were sure he would buy for himself?

“Smells different on me,” he said after a while and he took two or three steps to close the distance between you both, leaving the bottle of perfume back where he had picked it up.

His hand was extended and you instinctively turned your nose into his wrist to see what he meant. You smelled the notes of the perfume that you loved. You smelled it paired with his skin and it smelled pretty good you thought. You gave a questioning shrug in response and he stepped in closer to you again, pushing his hand forward so his wrist grazed lightly against your neck this time, transferring the still damp perfume onto the skin of your neck just below your earlobe.

“Here,” he said softly and he was leaning his face, pushing his nose into your hair and breathing deeply and slowly from the skin below your ear, “here, you smell so good.”

A match was struck somewhere inside of your body and you felt goosebumps spread over your skin with his face so close to the skin of your neck like this. Everywhere, your skin pulled and prickled and as if against your will, your head tilted to the side giving him access to you. The softness of his cheek brushed against your cheek as he made his way down and when he pulled that breath deep into his lungs you felt your eyes close up and the air you gasped for got stuck halfway inside of your throat. The effect made a sound come out of you. The want pushed your hands forward and you wrapped them around his waist, pulling him into you. You’d been sitting on the stool and when you pulled him his hips landed between your parted knees and there was a fire spreading very quickly.

You heard the low throaty moan from his chest and it echoed through your eardrum, vibrating against your neck where you felt his soft lips press a kiss into the skin below your ear.

You were on fire. You pulled him harder into you with your arms tightening around his waist and you gave in to the urge to let your knees part, feeling him stepping in just enough. You could feel the effects you had all over his body and when he pressed himself between your legs you couldn't help the moaning sound that escaped from your throat. You felt your control slipping. The man was making you let go of every single rule you’d ever lived by and you could feel deep down in your bones a desperation building within you.

Baekhyun lifted his face to look into yours and his eyes were half closed with that same look of heady desire deep in those eyes.

He dipped his face into yours and you felt softness as his lips placed the smallest kiss on your lips. You responded with a puff of air and he pulled his face up again, seeking out your eyes with his own dark ones.

He moved in close again, pressing another tiny kiss over your lips and he immediately pulled up again, his eyes searching all over your entire face as his fingertips smoothed the hair around your temples, clearing it from your skin before he placed another tiny kiss on your face, beside your rapidly blinking eyelid; his next kiss was peppered delicately just over your cheekbone followed quickly by the smallest kiss over your jaw.

He was back again, those eyes were back on you and when he moved in to kiss you on the lips once more you responded. You opened your mouth to him pulling the tip of his greedy tongue inside of your mouth again, needing more of his lips and his tongue and his teeth with only the need for air stopping you from speending hours and days and weeks inside of his mouth.

And then he was back at your neck, only this time instead of inhaling he had an exhaled whisper on his tongue.

A question to ask you.

“Can I stay-” he breathed, “here with you-” his words were gasping, “til’ the morning?”

You wanted him. You wanted to keep him here with you and you wanted to keep him forever.

He was looking into your face again, with half closed eyes, swollen pink lips and that dark look in his irises. You knew what his question was. You could feel the desire in every cell of your body. You could feel the heat he pushed between your legs, desperate for some relief.

Your head nodded on its own. Your body responded to him without any effort on your part at all and even if you had wanted to push him away, you were too wrapped around him to physically be able to.

You knew what this was. It was stronger than either of you could stand.

After your nod, his lips were back to your ear, whispering again, setting your skin ablaze again with those sinful sentences of his. “Won’t you take me to your room?” he asked.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes I will.

Yes we can go there.

Somehow you found your legs were still working and somehow you found the courage to take those steps. It is just over here, you guided him without speaking as your mind raced, all a jumble of anxious nerves and disbelieving the fact that you were really doing this. You walked and he followed and somewhere inside of your bedroom with the lights turned off and only a small table lamp in the shape of a bird that you had purchased simply because it was cute, illuminated in the corner, you heard the smallest question from him.

“Is that a bird?” Of course he would notice it. It was the only light on in the room and it was fucking awesome. His eyes would be drawn to how sharp the lines were, how clean the design was and how fat its little belly was and how its tiny body was filled from head to tail and bursting with light. You paid so much money for it; way too much for it only to hide it away inside of your bedroom but it made you very happy and so did your bedroom.

“Noona, how can you be this cute?”

And now, Baekhyun was here too.

Standing in here with Baekhyun with him commenting on your very secret and personal silly little bird lamp had your hands trembling and your mouth had gone dry from trying to fill your lungs with deep calming breaths.

Your skin was too hot. Your body was too affected by him and you began to worry about how you might do this. It had been a very long time since you’d slept with anyone. You weren’t even really sure how long. Your last relationship had fizzled out long before you were dumped by him and that sex had always felt rather performatory and kind of unsatisfying. But what if it was you? What if you just weren’t that good at it? What if you embarrassed yourself with just how obviously and how badly you wanted him right now? Because you did. You’d never wanted anything more. A million self doubts were flying through you and you spun anxiously on your heels, turning into him, you quickly opened your mouth to speak.

“B-Baek, umm…” you were speaking quickly, “i-it’s been a really long time since I’ve b-been with anyone.”

Oh god, you sounded scared. You didn’t want to give him the impression that you didn’t want to be in here with him right now.

“I want to though, with you,” you swallowed, willing the audible shaking in your voice to settle down. “I want you.” You said the last bit as cleanly and as plainly as you could. He had to know this.

You could see his face clearly with the small light in the corner, thanks to your awesome bird, and you were sure he could see every shaking, trembling, uncertain expression that had just flown over your face.

He’d taken a step closer to you as you spoke and all the while watching your expression closely as you spoke. You had to close your eyes after a few seconds under his watchful gaze and you only realized you were holding your breath when the tips of his fingertips touched at the side of your face and the gentle touch made you gasp for more air.

“You want me?” He had a sort of wonder on his voice with the question and it pulled your eyes open to him. You could see his lips pulling into a kinetic smile, his lips moving with each of his exhales, his very slight smile pulled and slipped like it might have been powered by his heartbeat. The movements would have been undetectable had you been any further away from him.

“I’m nervous,” you confessed in a whisper with your eyes closed but with him touching you this way you could already feel something other than nerves overtaking you now.

“Baby, it’s me,” his warm breath fanned over your lips, between the kisses he gave you he also gave you promises, “and I’ve got you.”

His reassuring words overcame, “I’ve got you — no matter what, I’ve got you, my darling.”

Baekhyun’s promises coated over you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and you felt the ease that came with them.

My darling.

His hands had moved now, he ran light fingertips over the goosebumped skin on your waist, slipping his fingertips gently below the elastic waistband of your shorts.

Byun Baekhyun, your Baekhyun, had so carefully and expertly broken down every bit of your self defenses and excuses. He’d seen you so clearly from the beginning and he’d done it in a way that only he could have done. This choice — this act with him felt inevitable. You gave in. Up until this point, it had been a difficult battle against yourself, but ultimately and inevitably, you did it.

You gave in to this feeling completely.

As if you had always been meant to do with him.

When you’d found yourself completely bare before him and he was just as vulnerable before you; you let go of all of it.

The arousal had been so much that every touch of his skin on your skin had you reeling. Your skin was hot to the touch and when his strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist and lifted you up, he did it with such ease that you crumbled in his arms. When the cool temperature of the blanket that covered your bed first touched your bare back you gasped in shock at the temperature difference and when the heat and the weight of his body covered over you in one fluid motion, your breath left you entirely.

You’d underestimated the strength he had in his body. You’d underestimated your body’s response to feeling him here, pressing between your thighs, your thighs which he fit in between so expertly and with purpose, your thighs which he’d pushed open himself with a firm knee as you both fell together into this bed. Your thighs between which he sank with hip bones at first, his mouth still connected to yours. But between your thighs he was there, with a wandering hand and silent fingertips that touched and teased and urged as he found the exact places to touch you; as he found the exact pressure and rhythm to push you close and closer to the edge of your sanity and you lost his lips from your mouth in the haze and you felt him sinking lower and lower, down between your thighs. You gave in. You let go of the tight grip you’d had on his hair as he pulled you harder into his mouth and you gave in to it; the oblivion that took you over.

You’d had no time to recover when you felt his wet tongue and wet lips at your breasts. You’d had no time to recover when you felt those hip bones back between your thighs with the heat and the pressure he brought with him. Baekhyun pushed inside so slowly at first; then came the feeling of being inundated by him and with all of the fire and the pressure and the careless abandon that came with it.

What you hadn’t underestimated, what you just knew would be a truth about Byun Baekhyun and what you had shamelessly imagined many nights since you’d begun experiencing this silly little self indulgent infatuation involving your Assistant, was that the sounds he made as he fucked you were resonant; as thundering as they were thrilling. Many of these sounds he made directly into your ear, sending the moans and whines and whimpers directly into your brain as his body rolled, pulling you on top of him, lifting you again so easily with strong arms as you sank down onto him again and again. It felt simultaneously never-ending and fleeting. Spinning, spinning, spinning forever; the spool had been wound so tight something was bound to snap soon and you could feel a climax nearing for you both.

When the oblivion returned you were overcome with more than that took your breath away. The sex itself, the climax itself was not the only thing that you felt running through your every vein, filling you up from the inside with a pervasive all consuming force. The sex itself was incredibly unparalleled to anything you had ever experienced with anyone else in your life, but there was something more that took hold of you in that very moment and you could not find a name for it as it moved through you.

Even through the eventual separation of your bodies, even through the laborious breaths that were futilely chased and the thick haze and the dense fog that you climbed up through, for some sort of return to reality; you still felt gripped by it.

It felt like falling. It felt like you would never be able to escape from this.

It felt like — felt like—

Baekhyun’s whisper made its way through the obscurity followed by lazy kisses pressed against your sticky skin with a spoken question and you knew.

Even as he himself asked you the very question that danced inside of your mind, tempting you with its heavy implications; you knew the answer.

Whether or not he asked it out loud you already knew it so completely.

But still he said it — from his own lips came that tiny question.

“Is this love?”

[To Be Continued]

Links: Can I Stay? Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6